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rogerswifesblog · 1 month ago

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Never ending story

My Masterlist

Summary: After an accident something happened to you…and the accident was in 1913.

Warnings: accident, character death, brief alcohol drinking, smut, p in v sex, protected sex (i feel like it’s the first time I’m writing a smut with protection lord help me), brief handjob, light fingering, do I need to add anything more?

A/N: Jesus a one shot after such a long time omg I’m actually nervous. 😅 I recommend the movie „Age of Adaline”…it’s pretty much what happens in this oneshot too and it’s also a good movie:) the accident description is from the movie:) thank you @rogersbarber and @jamneuromain for proofreading

Steve and reader have an age gap here, with her being older but let's be honest considering he is like a 100 later on the 8 years difference don’t change a thing😂 besides I’ve probably messed up the ages and many things since it was hard to keep up😂

The story is not 100% accurate with the CA:FA movie.

Accidents often affect people’s life’s, not just from injuries but also because of the aftermath.

Yet you never expect your accident to change your life so dramatically.

In 1913, on your way to your parents house something highly unusual occurred, something almost magical... snow fell in Sonoma County, California.

Distracted from the road by the snow you lost control of your car, driving from the bridge right into a river.

The immersion in the frigid water caused your body to go into an anoxic reflex, instantly stopping your breathing and slowing your heartbeat. Within 2 minutes,

Your core temperature had dropped to 87 degrees... her heart stopped beating.

Then, a bolt of lightning struck the vehicle discharging half a billion volts of electricity producing 60,000 amperes of current.

Its effect was threefold.

First, the charge defibrillated your heart.

Second,

You were jolted out of yoir anoxic state causing you to draw your first breath in 2 minutes.

Third, based on Von Lehman's principle of electron compression in deoxyribonucleic acid, which will be discovered in the year two thousand thirty-five, y/n y/sn will henceforth be immune to the ravages of time...

At first you had never noticed it, but after over ten years you noticed something different-or rather nothing. Not a single wrinkle, not even a little change in your face nor body. Everyday was the same.

You were 36.

Yet you looked 25. Not a day older.

And people started to notice it, especially when you started to look very similar to your daughter. When she was 17, but both of you looked like sisters.

Even your husband noticed the lack of differences in your appearance. Luckily soon after he was drafted-of course it broke your heart to see him go, but considering your other problem, it was easier to think of a solution.

Moving. Running away.

So when the question started, you had to move, not expecting this would be your future from now on.

During the war it wasn’t hard to lay down, especially since everyone tried to do so, most people helped each other, while others just avoided most people.

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked around the World Exposition of Tomorrow, many people, not knowing you, nor your daughter. It was her birthday and you both decided to spend it somewhere special.

After getting some snacks you wanted to go to the front to watch the presentation of the new ‚flying car’. „I’ll go powder my nose, Y/N”, your daughter informed you. Y/N. She had stopped calling you ‘mom’ when she was 15. Sometimes, at home, but rarely. Especially now that you looked so close to the same age. You were 24 years older but…it didn’t look this way.

„Watch out-“, You called after a man that had hit your shoulder, making your purse drop, a couple of things falling out.

When you wanted to bend down someone was already holding up your purse.

His soft blue eyes looked you over once, before stopping to meet your gaze. „Ma’am, your purse”, said the gentleman, still holding the purse with a shaky hand. „Thank you, Sir”, you smiled at the young man.

He was slightly shorter, especially with the shoes you were wearing, giving you two or so inches more. His hair blond, looking soft but frail, like his frame. The jacket hanging rather loose around his shoulders, the pants held up by a belt tightly buckled around his slim hips, you could see there was an extra hole made for the belt to fit him.

„I’m…I’m Steve Rogers”, said the young man, holding out his hand. You shook it, introducing yourself to him, but just then your daughter walked back up to you.

When Steve’s friend walked up to you two, with two other dames who seemed to be rather interested in the friend himself than Steve, but that was the cue for you to go.

Besides, why were you even interested in spending time with this man? You were a married woman-and older. It might not look like that but you definitely were older than him by a couple of years.

Yet a bit of fantasizing wasn’t a crime, right? His blue eyes were probably the prettiest thing you’ve seen in a while.

During the expo you saw Steve a few more times, small smiles and gazes were exchanged before you had to leave, not expecting to ever see that man again.

Two years later you had to move again after the police accused you of having forged documents and a false ID.

But you were alone this time.

Your daughter had a husband, only married for a few months but she decided to stay with him-which you understood.

Nevertheless it didn’t break your heart any less. Especially since you knew your husband was also dead, after receiving the condolences letter.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at the small bar in Italy, a completely new country where nobody was looking for you. Briefly you’ve heard about the Captain America creation and other things, but you weren’t too interested in it, not with the heartbreak after being completely alone.

Heartbroken and alone.

Funny enough Steve felt the same way, walking into the bar, sulking and making his shoulders as small as possible, not wanting the attention of other people.

He really thought Peggy might like him-but he got it all wrong, she was seeing someone and just moments after this information he also found out Bucky's unit was missing.

Tomorrow he planned to look for them, waiting for Stark to arrange everything needed.

But tonight.

Tonight he was alone and heartbroken.

Steve wasn’t that type to flirt with random women or ‚hook up’, but tonight…he just wanted to be someone else, not the heartbroken little boy from Brooklyn, even though usually he’d be proud to be that.

But he felt like he let his friend down.

The woman he fell in love embarrassed him, which wouldn’t be the first time but it felt worse than ever before.

„Whisky”, he ordered, sitting next to you, making you lift your head at the slightly familiar voice. It’s like you’ve heard him before-but you shook it off for now.

Sipping on your cocktail, your gaze was glued to the many pictures at the wall, people smiling at the camera, while others looked away or at their friends.

The man next to you cleared his throat. „How…how is your evening ma’am?”, when you looked over at the man, your voice seemed to be stuck in your throat. He was handsome, yes, but it wasn’t what made your breath hitch. It’s his eyes. The blue eyes that you were never able to forget.

„Steve”, you said quietly, a sad smile creeping on your face as you looked at him over again. He furrowed his eyebrows a bit, before sighing. “Yeah, it’s me, Steve Rogers, the captain-“‘“wait, no Steve it’s…I mean, yeah, I’ve heard about it but I didn’t know it was you but-yeah, I can see the change”, you chuckled, placing your hand on his bicep and squeezing, before pulling away. That felt quite rude.

“We met years ago…At the…the world exposition of tomorrow-about the future flying car? You were-well, smaller-and with a friend, I was there with my da-“, you cleared your throat. “-dearest friend.”

It didn’t take long for him to remember the time you two met. After some catching up you ordered yourself another drink, Steve got another one too.

Minutes turned to hours…

“…I’m moving a bit around. I lost my husband-the war took him….”

“….Bucky was drafted…his unit…”

“….Buck always said I was stubborn and would either get enlisted or died trying, since I surely wouldn’t stop or…”

“….I wish we could just have a quiet life without wars…”

“..I remember when I was a kid…”

“…There was a time when I….”

The conversation kept going, skipping from one topping to the other, first the usual talk about what was going on, then sharing some memories and comforting words.

When the barkeeper informed you it was already time to close the place, you looked down at the drink you were still sipping. It was still the second one you had ordered, mostly untouched.

Steve helped you put on your jacket, you knew you didn’t want the evening to end.

Without saying a word you just wrapped your hand around his arm, walking with him along the streets, only a few minutes before entering your apartment building.

Steve followed. He wanted to be with you that night. He wanted to feel you close. He wanted to feel…needed….loved…cared after…

He wanted to forget about all the horrors around him.

So did you.

When entering the small apartment you took off your shoes and jacket, Steve hanging up his own and yours, before looking back at you, a nervous smile creeping on his lips.

“I don’t….usually do such things”, he started, making you take his hands. “Me neither Steve”, whispering you let your hands roam to his neck, slowly pulling him down as he placed his hands on your waist to pull you closer as you kissed.

Gentle, yet passionate. So full of…feelings. You couldn’t call it love but…but it was still close to it. It was shared pain.

And you knew the line between love and pain was so small it barely made a difference.

A quiet gasp escaped your lips when Steve wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs and lifted you onto his hips. “Where is the bedroom-“ “the couch is fine”, but Steve only clicked his tongue.

“I don’t…I don’t want it to…be rushed and meaningless”, he mumbled against your lips, making you smile a little. Not that you thought about it…you didn’t want to rush it yourself.

So you told him where to go, before being placed onto the bed, Steve carefully climbing over you, kissing your neck.

Slowly he undressed you, making sure to kiss every inch of your skin he uncovered. Your shoulders, your arms, hands…your stomach…before having you only in your underwear.

“You…you’re beautiful”, he whispered, before slowly taking the rest of your clothes off. A blush crept on your cheeks when you felt his eyes on your body, especially with him being still dressed. “Steve, come on let me help you with those…”, you chuckled, making him also smile a bit, as he sat back and started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the white, tight undershirt beneath it.

A grin crept on your lips, sitting up, you let your hands roam over his chest and arm, before quickly grabbing the undershirt and pulling over his head. Your lips find its way to his neck, down to his pecks, making him moan quietly and letting you push him down onto the bed.

Now it was your turn to leave kisses along his body, lowering yourself till you were level with his zipper, opening it. Steve helped you push down his pants and underwear, his cock immediately slapping against his abdomen, hard and leaking.

Before you could get your mouth on him he pulled you up and once again on your back, his hands once again all over your body, spreading your legs apart, as he sat back on his heels and looked at you, especially your crotch. “You look so good…”, he mumbled, gently sliding his fingers through your wet folds.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Steve slowly pushed two of his fingers into your wet hole, wettly squelching as he pulled out again, watching his finger being covered in wetness.

You let your head drop into your neck, moaning quietly with every time he pushed his fingers back in. “Steve…I need you…”, you gasped.

It immediately made Steve’s heartbeat quicken to hear those words, hovering over you and reaching into his pants pocket, pulling out a metal condom tin and opening it, taking the condom out. “Already prepared?” “The captain has to be responsible”, Steve smirked teasingly.

You felt yourself blush at that, rolling your eyes with a grin on your lips.

Then, you watched as Steve slowly put the condom on, stroking his dick a few times, before letting it slide between your folds, brushing over your clit. You weren’t sure if he was purposefully teasing you or just doing it to…well, considering his grin he was doing it on purpose.

“Steve please-“, before you could finish, Steve leaned back down again, kissing you passionately, as he slowly pushed his cock into your pussy. A quiet and slightly surprised gasp escaped your lips, the stretch feeling more than expected.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, one hand buried in his hair, while he was covering you with his wide frame-which didn’t feel intimidating in any way- it was rather comforting. Feeling his warmth and the weight of his body made you feel like you were in the right place.

The rest of the night was spent in a tight embrace, skin to skin, soft pleas and moans reaching your ears and the smell of sex lingered in the air.

When the sun started to rise you fell asleep in Steve’s arms, after having spent the best evening you could imagine together.

You woke up to a kiss on your temple and a soft whisper, “I hope we see each other soon.”

But you didn’t.

After saving Bucky and his unit Steve had many other missions following, which he had written about in a letter. One letter, with a lot of explaining and apologies and…an invitation for a date, after he’d be back.

But this also never came. You waited months. Years.

And then he flew the plane into the ocean, falling to his death.

Only then did one thing occur to you.

Were you able to die? Or specifically, from old age? If you’d ever meet a man, would you be able to spend your life with him? The idea of falling in love and watching your partner die broke your heart-you had already buried your husband, then Steve died and…oh god, you would watch your own child die.

Once again you got yourself a whisky, this time just at home not wanting to meet any new people, especially since that was how you had found Steve again. You swore you’d never get close to another person again, never get your feelings involved in something. There was a voice at the back of your head, it had been there for some time now, that always reminded you of Steve but now…you knew you needed to forget about him,

….definitely not expecting to ever see him ever again.

The years passed by, every ten years you moved, illegally bought a new passport, ID…a whole new life, whole new person. You wrote letters with your daughter, meeting up with her twice a year on your and her birthday.

You watched her age.

You watched her birth children.

You watched them grow up.

And you watched your daughter die.

At the age of 86 in 1998.

While you still haven’t changed since 1913.

Her funeral was beautiful. Many people were there-even though nobody knew you-or at least not as who you were. A family's friend. Her nurse. Kid from a friend…many different ways. But not as her mom. Her mom went missing in 1943, during the war, probably killed…yeah, that was the story people knew.

So you continued living, year after year.

Until 2012 arrived.

Two unexpected things happened.

An alien attacked you.

And you saw those beautiful blue eyes again.

Hi! Thank you for reading!!

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated. Support your content creators:)

Taglist: @rogersbarber @inlovewithchrisevans

Flood my inbox with HC, Drabble/OS ideas or questions! Just whatever you want to leave there! Anons welcome 😋

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #flood my inbox #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers au #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x female reader

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drnikolatesla · 10 months ago

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X-Ray Image Taken By Nikola Tesla (1896)

Though not widely known, Nikola Tesla spent a great deal of time intensively researching X-rays, publishing his results during the period between March 11, 1896 to August 11, 1897. He also gave a lecture on April 6, 1897 presenting designs of several different devices that could generate these powerful rays. During this lecture, he shared similar data and conclusions from his earlier experiments with Crookes tubes in 1894. Crookes tubes were invented by British scientist William Crookes in order to study electrical discharges in vacuum tubes. During Tesla’s experiments in 1894, he observed that some of the tubes that produced only feeble visible light had more effect on photographic plates than tubes which were brighter. Since it was obvious that there must be some kind of energy coming from the tubes with feeble light, and their properties were still unknown, Tesla used the term “radiant matter" to describe these radiations. With these tubes, Tesla produced some of the first X-ray imaging, which he called “shadowgraphs,” due to their dark nature, but still did not realize the importance of these radiations. To him, the photographs taken seemed to be spoiled due to unaccountable marks and defects. In March of 1895, a fire broke out in his laboratory, destroying practically all of his equipment and experimental data to date. It took several months before he could resume his work, and in the meantime, a German scientist named Wilhelm Röntgen made his X-ray discovery in the same year (December, 1895). Roentgen first detected the radiation by accident in his experiments where he was testing whether cathode rays emitted from Crookes tubes could pass through glass, and or other solid objects, but was astonished to find that the rays emitted would pass through thinner objects and leave shadows of the more solid objects behind (such as with skin and bones). When Tesla heard this news, it was immediately obvious to him what had been problematic in his laboratory work. Realizing and regretting that he had missed out on making a major scientific discovery, Tesla would say, “I realized that my guiding spirit had again prompted me and that I had failed to comprehend his mysterious signs.” He repeated Röntgen's experiments, and came to much better results than Röntgen and others since he had his newly developed Tesla Coil. With this apparatus, he immediately realized the importance of high voltages for producing powerful rays and suggested using his newly developed single-terminal tubes and connecting them to the secondary coil of the transformer. In 1896, Röntgen acknowledged Tesla’s discoveries and in a lecture before the Physical Medical Society in Wurzburg, Germany, discussed the advantage of using Tesla’s high-frequency transformer in generating X-rays. Tesla would also become one of the first scientists to point out the harms of these rays and developed safer ways to utilize them for medical use. Methods we still use today. On the other side of town, others like Thomas Edison thought these newly discovered rays could cure the blind. Many patients who were experimented upon starting showing terrible illnesses, one being his assistant who later had to have both arms amputated. Edison was quoted in an interview saying, “Don’t talk to me about X-rays…I am afraid of them.”

Nikola Tesla would later give all credit to Röntgen for the discovery, and throughout the next few years, produced some of the best X-ray imaging that even Röntgen praised. In a letter to Tesla, Röntgen wrote, “Dear Sir! You have surprised me tremendously with the beautiful photographs of wonderful discharges, and I tell you thank you very much for that. If only I knew how you make such things!”

#nikola tesla #science #history #x ray #X-rays #technology #invention #medical #electricity #quotes #ahead of his time #ahead of our time

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astrobiscuits · 1 year ago

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Chiron: where is our physical (and mental) wound?

I'm currently reading a book about Chiron (did you know it's actually half asteroid, half comet? me neither), which inspired me to make this post. I'm in no way an expert in medical astrology, just a curious owl that wants to learn more about every branch of astrology out there (my Sag Venus loves it!!🤭)

DISCLAIMER!!! I'm not a doctor. If you've been feeling any symptoms described here, TALK WITH YOUR DOCTOR, NOT WITH ME

Observation: Before we dive in, i'd like to mention that the position of Chiron in the houses is important. Not every house placement suggests having a poor physical condition. The most prominent Chiron placements when it comes to having a medical condition are: Chiron in 1st house (house of self, visible illnesses), Chiron in 5th house (illnesses since birth/early childhood), Chiron in 6th house (house of health, if Saturn is also sitting there it points to chronic illnesses), Chiron in 8th house (house of death, may point to severe diseases or poor reproductive health) and Chiron in 12th house (house of the unconscious, deals with mental illnesses)

Honorable mention to Chiron in 3rd house and Chiron in 9th house as they represent accidents while travelling. If Chiron is heavily afflicted in these houses (unless it's also conjuncting Jupiter), it may point to...let's just say you're gonna be in a hospital bed in a vegetative state, but remember, nothing has a 100% possibility of happening, you're just more susceptible to it happening. I suggest checking the position of Chiron in Solar Return charts for the possible timing of it happening (look for Chiron in 3rd house/Chiron in 9th house as it activates your natal Chiron)

Without further do, let's dive in⚕️

Chiron in Aries: frequent headaches, frequent nose bleeds, teeth problems (sensitive teeth, tooth decay), deafness, skull fractures, cerebral anemia, brain tumours, hemophilia, epilepsy, BPD

Chiron in Taurus: frequent colds, frequent voice loss, thyroid problems (goiter, hyperthyroidism, hypothyroidis, etc.), tonsilitis, OCD

Chiron in Gemini: lung problems (asthma, tuberculosis, pneumonia, etc.), speech problems (stuttering, cluttering, mutism), alzheimer's disease, ADHD, OCD

Chiron in Cancer: frequent stomach pain, prone to lactose intolerance, (for girls) breast lumps, breast cysts, breast infections, nipple discharge, depression, anxiety

Chiron in Leo: prone to insolation, frequent heart palpitations, chest pain, hypertension, hypotension, arteriosclerosis, scoliosis, kyphosis

Chiron in Virgo: frequent bloating, prone to gluten intolerance, chronic allergies, diabetes, rabies, autism, ADHD, OCD

Chiron in Libra: prone to acne, frequent lower back pain, disc herniation, spondylolisthesis, chronic kidney disease, kidney stones

Chiron in Scorpio: frequent pain down there, chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis, HIV/AIDS, depression

Chiron in Sagittarius: frequent pain in the hips, prone to hips dislocation, cirrhosis, sciatica

Chiron in Capricorn: prone to knees dislocation, osteoarthritis, bone problems (osteopenia, osteoporosis), gout, depression

Chiron in Aquarius: electrical injuries, shin splints, osteofibrous dysplasia, ankle sprain, ankle fractures, poor blood circulation, schizophrenia

Chiron in Pisces: prone to break toes, athlete's foot, bunions, addison's disease, hormonal deregulation, aphantasia, psychosis, schizophrenia, anxiety

Yes, i'm aware of the fact that it's a generational planet and it moves very slowly through signs

BONUS: It's important to take into consideration all planets that conjunct, square or opposite Chiron (regardless if they're personal or generational) + the Ascendant for additional info about our illnesses

Ex. Let's take me as an example. My Chiron is in my 10th house in Capricorn squaring Saturn in 4th house (so double Capricorn energy) and Aries Ascendant. Guess what? I've got TMJ (basically a jaw disorder affecting the joints) and i've got it from my fam -_- (Saturn rules tradition i love my fam)

I also believe that having a heavy afflicted Chiron in general makes someone prone to having a medical condition, even if it's not in the houses mentioned previously (like in my case). However, these people are more focused on the main meaning of the house, not their health problems. They tend to ignore their health problems or they just don't care

I hope you enjoyed my post and found it insightful :)

What's your wound? Lmk in the comments your placements and your illnesses

Kisses xoxo

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queenshelby · 9 months ago

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An Illicit Affair

Part 15: Domestic Violence

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity, Mention of Domestic Abuse

After Danielle departed in order to do some shopping, you took upon yourself to talk to Cillian about his lie to you and the other medical staff, confronting him gently about the issue at hand.

Your gaze lingered on him as you entered the room at around 11 o'clock that morning and, right after you closed the door behind you, Cillian put his book aside and smiled at you gently, pretending that nothing had happened.

"Just to let you know, I hate needles," he then chuckled with a soft smile, shifting uncomfortably on the hospital bed while you sat down next to him, setting the tray containing his booster shot in front of him.

"I promise it won't hurt much Cills. I will be gentle," you winked as you prepared the injection and before running your hand over his cheek gently.

"You know I could have gotten one of the nurses to do this, but I would like to have a chat with you before working on your discharge papers," you then began, causing Cillian to frown slightly.

"Okay, shoot," he said cautiously, biting his lower lip nervously while meeting your gaze searchingly.

"Why did you lie to me and the medical staff about how you sustained the laceration?" you asked Cillian, your heart pounding in your chest. The air was thick with tension, and you could feel the electricity crackling between you both.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before replying. "I didn't want anyone to worry," he said, shrugging casually. "Besides, it was a simple misunderstanding," he added, his gaze flickering nervously.

"A misunderstanding between you and Danielle?" you pressed Cillian, your eyebrows shooting up. "Or perhaps an argument that escalated into something worse?" You held his gaze, trying to read his emotions, and it wasn't until he looked away that you understood.

"Cillian, what happened last night?" you asked, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to but if Danielle is acting abusively towards you then you should open up about it," you urged, your heart sinking as you saw the torment in his eyes.

"No, no, it's not like that Y/N," Cillian protested vehemently, his voice cracking slightly. "We just had a disagreement last night after the event. She noticed your lipstick on my shirt and she accused me of cheating on her with one of the women from the committee. She has been accusing me of cheating on her for ten fucking years Y/N and, let me tell you, until I met you, I never did. I never even contemplated it. We were arguing in the kitchen, the knife slipped. That's it. It was totally innocuous, Y/N," Cillian insisted defensively, his eyes pleading with yours but something deep inside you knew that there was more to it.

An injury this severe could not have been caused by an accident like this and you suspected that something darker lay beneath the surface.

"Okay, I believe you," you lied calmly before quickly injecting the needle into his arm tenderly.

"Are you okay?" you asked as you administered the shot, feeling a surge of protectiveness wash over you.

"It doesn't hurt that much," he nodded, causing you to smile warmly.

"Yeah, but you do seem upset," you observed, swallowing hard as you watched him try to pull himself together.

"I'm fine," Cillian muttered, flashing you a half-hearted smile before turning his gaze away, his eyes filled with sadness. "I just need some time to think," he sighed, his eyes locked on the hospital room door. "Danielle can be a bit possessive sometimes, you know, and I cannot deal with it anymore," he mumbled softly as he looked back at you, his eyes filled with concern.

"How about I give you some privacy then, so that you can relax and...," you began to suggest, preparing to leave the room, but Cillian grabbed your hand, halting you in your tracks.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, looking up at you with his piercing blue eyes. "You are really something else," he continued, his voice dropping an octave. "I wish things were different..." he trailed off, leaving you to fill in the blanks. But you knew that his words held deeper meaning.

"Me too but, you know, when you are in London, we could still spend time together occasionally if you like. We just need to be more careful," you smiled gently before leaning forward to caress Cillian's face.

"I would like that," Cillian responded before leaning forward as well, his lips brushing against yours gently.

You kissed briefly, both of you hesitant and unsure of where this was going. But there was something magnetic pulling you towards each other, a force neither of you could ignore.

"You better get out of here before someone walks in," Cillian eventually murmured against your skin, his voice husky and low. "Plus, you need to prepare my discharge papers, don't you?" he grinned slyly before kissing you once more quickly.

"You're right," you gasped, breaking apart and standing up abruptly. "I will get your papers ready, but James will need to approve and sign them. I am still on trial," you explained before, finally, heading towards the door.

As soon as you left the room, you asked who was assigned to ward management and, not much to your surprise, it was Nurse O'Nelly who was in charge that day.

Approaching her desk, you introduced yourself and inquired about the availability of Cillian's medical records from other facilities, which was a request that surprised her.

"He is only in for a laceration so we didn't obtain any records from his health fund and the public hospital system in Ireland," the nurse explained, raising a brow skeptically.

"I am concerned about domestic abuse which, in itself, legally warrants to obtain the records. So, you could you please get them?" you argued diplomatically.

"You think that he is a victim of domestic violence?" O'Nelly gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief while you nodded reluctantly and, even though you felt as though you had betrayed Cillian's trust, you followed the hospital's protocol. "Well, then I understand your concerns. Let me ask the attending physician to authorise the release of the information," she said, picking up the phone.

"About that, I would like the attending to take over. I do not wish to view the records myself for personal reasons," you explained delicately, averting your gaze from Nurse O'Nelly.

"Okay," Nurse O'Nelly chuckled, peering at you with curiosity. "You're worried, but you don't want to delve into it yourself?" she asked, her tone is matter-of-fact, bordering on sarcastic.

"I have a conflict of interest. It wouldn't be proper for me to view his health records. I used to date his son," you explained, feeling the nurse scrutinize you suspiciously. "I don't want to cross professional boundaries, especially since I'm still training," you admitted, averting your gaze guiltily.

"Oh I see," Nurse O'Nelly said slowly, pursing her lips tightly. "This makes sense then," she conceded reluctantly and picked up the phone again. "James, this is Mary. Can you come to Ward 3 for a minute?" she spoke into the receiver firmly and, within minutes, James walked into the room, looking puzzled as he approached us.

"What's the problem here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he scanned you and Nurse O'Nelly.

"We have reason to believe that Mr. Murphy might be a victim of domestic abuse," O'Nelly stated plainly, her expression grave.

"Really?" James responded, his eyes widening in astonishment. "That's certainly unexpected," he muttered, his tone skeptical.

"Is there anything specific that makes you question this?" he then asked and Nurse O'Nelly explained the situation to him discreetly and James immediately acknowledged your concern.

"Alright, get his health records if you can and get the wife's records too. I think she was admitted to this hospital before and signed a release just a few months ago," James instructed O'Nelly while exchanging a significant glance with you before disappearing again to attend another patient while you moved on to work on some other cases as well.

There was one patient in particular that day who needed your attention. A young woman who had just suffered a miscarriage and had to be admitted to the ward for further observation due to complications.

Her name was Laura and she was accompanied by her partner Sam, a kind and caring man who had stuck by her side through thick and thin and, just as you finished up with her, James came barging by and asked whether you had a minute to spare.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he asked, holding on to Cillian's and Danielle's records tightly.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you stepped out of the patient's room alongside James.

"What do you want to discuss?" you questioned him warily, your pulse quickening in your veins.

"Let's go to the break room," James suggested quietly, leading you there while you followed him, a million questions swirling in your mind. What was wrong with the records? Could it be true? Was Cillian being subjected to abuse from his own wife?

"I reviewed the records and found some concerning patterns," James whispered, his voice barely audible as he leaned in close, which is when you stopped him.

"Listen James, I cannot get involved in this. I have a personal conflict of interest in this matter because of my past relationship with their son Max," you began, taking a big gulp of courage. "Like I said, I do not want to cross professional boundaries," you admitted, averting your gaze guiltily.

"I understand that," James agreed, nodding sympathetically. "But I have a legal obligation to follow up on your suspicions and I have a moral obligation to protect you from physical harm, so I really need to discuss this matter with you," James told you worryingly, causing your brows to furrow.

"Why would I suffer any physical harm?" you challenged James, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

"Y/N, I am not stupid," James began to explain calmly, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You are involved with this man, and I think you are blindsided by the situation," he told you sternly before explaining the findings in Cillian's and Danielle's records.

"Cillian's records don't show much other than a few fillings and colds. He hasn't been to a hospital in over ten years. His wife's medical records however are quite eventful. There is a pattern of injury and I feel as though you might be wrong about who is abusing who and I do not want you to be in the same boat," James confessed, swallowing hard.

"Danielle has been treated for a range of injuries including sprains, fractures, and blunt trauma. It's quite evident that...," James revealed, causing you to interrupt him mid-sentence.

"So, you are suggesting that he is abusive towards her?" you interrupted James sharply, narrowing your eyes in disbelief. "There is no fucking way, James!" you shook your head. "I mean, even just considering everything he told me today, I find that highly unlikely," you argued defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Maybe he was lying to you," James retorted coolly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Abusers often hide their true nature behind charm and charisma," he reminded you, throwing you a pointed glance.

"But Cillian isn't like that," you objected. "He's kind, considerate, and wouldn't hurt a fly," you told James who rested his hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N," James sighed heavily. "Look, I know you care about him, but it's possible that he's hiding something. Abusers rarely reveal their true nature unless pushed," he warned, his tone sombre but you would not have a bar of this.

"I am going to talk to him. This is ridiculous," you declared resolutely, pushing past James impatiently and, even though he tried to stop you, his efforts were futile.

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine

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shakespearenews · 11 months ago

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“A letter came to me a few years ago from a long-retired actress who had, as a youngster, been taken to see Edwin Booth play King Lear. It seems that towards the end of the play, when the mad Lear was brought face to face with his daughter Cordelia, there was a sharp pause, then – for a second that couldn’t quite be caught or measured – a startled, desperate, longing flicker of near-recognition stirred somewhere behind the old man’s eyes, and then – nothing. The entire audience rose, without thinking, to its feet. It didn’t cheer. It simply stood up. It was as though a single electrical discharge had passed from one body on the stage, instantaneously, through a thousand bodies in the auditorium. Something had been plugged into a socket; two forces had met.

This meeting is what the theater is all about; it is its greatest power . . . The theater gains its natural – and unique – effect not from the mere presence of live actors, or the happy accident of an occasional lively audience, but from existence of a live relationship between these two indispensible conspirators, signaling to one another through space.”

–Walter Kerr (1913-1996) Author and Theater Critic From his book THE THEATER IN SPITE OF ITSELF

#shakespeare #william shakespeare #king lear #lear #edwin booth #walter kerr #cordelia #theater #theatre #theater history

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shyficwriter · 2 years ago

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This isn't really a fully formed idea but imagine being part of the Guardians of the Galaxy and having like lightning powers.

And like, when you get angry or frustrated an electrical charge builds up. Sometimes it's just static arcing through your hair. Other times you accidentally discharge the electricity into a metal table or something. Or you'll purposely reach out an grab onto a metal pole to make sure you don't discharge the lighting into whatever person is pissing you off (Rocket)

One day you discharge the lightning into a pole when you're pissed at Rocket and it looks like a transformer exploded. Rocket cockily asks "Was that meant to be intimidating?" and you answer, "No, that was to prevent me from electrocuting you when I kick your furry raccoon ass." *cue Rocket lunging for your throat and the others needing to break up the fight*

Also I imagine the following exchanges would happen: "Damn it! They've fried [electrical device] again!" --- "Sorry!" Or, "If you don't stop arcing my ship-!" --- "It was an accident!"

Because problem is you can't always control it, and once the charge builds up either you discharge it intentionally somewhere where you won't fry the electrical (or fry any of your friends) or it will just happen on it's own the next time you touch something- anything. Like static electricity shocks- but worse because it could either be a tiny tingle (if you're mildly frustrated or annoyed) or you could electrocute whoever comes in your path (if you're royally pissed).

Mantis has actually been forbidden from trying to use her powers on you after one time she attempted to see if you were angry and got blasted across the room when the electricity discharged (She was fine though, but you still felt real bad)

Obviously those who have metal implants are less than thrilled if they accidentally brush into you and you have a charge built up. (Nebula could have killed you the first time it happens, and Rocket legitimately tries when it happens to him- also his tail was singed for a week)

Eventually someone gets you a rubber mat to stand on to mitigate this, especially when the charge becomes too great. It's the only thing that allows you to discharge the electricity without electrocuting your surroundings. (Your rubber soled boots apparently weren't enough and you often get sentenced to go stand on your mat until you "cool down" when you're frustrated.)

It's not all bad though. Sometimes you get to see Drax's more playful side because the tiny shocks barely faze him- in fact they kinda tickle he claims. So sometimes you'll even sneak up behind him and give him a little shock just to make him laugh and every once in awhile he'll even chase after you if he's in the mood to be playful. Doesn't happen often, but it's still fun when it does- though he always catches you and gives you a playful noogie in retaliation.

It's also a real asset to the team. Lighting powers are super helpful with taking down big bad guys. You may have also even been convinced at least once to jump-start Peter's ship too lol

#gotg #imagine #story ideas #lightning powers #x reader #rocket raccoon #nebula #drax the destroyer #peter quill

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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'til kingdom come - tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

the evolution of your relationship with peter parker.

a/n: my entry for the April TFC Writing Challenge! it was for a fic based on a song, (til kingdom come by coldplay - off the soundtrack!) I happened to watch The Amazing Spider-Man and No Way Home in the same weekend, and well, here we are. enjoy! 🤍 (just for the record - this would be no way home era tasm!peter parker, so at least a 5-6 years older than at the end of tasm 2!)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of car accidents, hospital stays, broken bones, fluff, not completely explicit but still explicit smut, this was INCREDIBLY self-indulgent and I regret nothing

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works!✨

You’re used to him disappearing, at this point.

To waking in the middle of the night to an empty half of the bed, the pillow still warm, the only sign that he was here at all your scattered clothes on the ground, the ghost of a kiss on your mouth, and the satisfied hum in your bloodstream. It’s routine, to a degree, and has you burying your face in his pillow, chasing whatever remnants you can until he comes back.

And he always comes back.

It started as some kind of strange, electric current that ran beneath your skin when this doe-eyed scrap of a man paused in the doorway of your hospital room. He heard you crying, walked in, concern in that chocolate-coloured gaze and asked you if you were alright. Given the circumstance, your leg casted six ways to Sunday and a painful crick in your neck, you blubbered out a no, but then he introduced himself - “Peter Parker, I’m…I’m Peter.” - as he handed you a tissue, and then all of a sudden he was sinking into the chair at your bedside, distracting you from the pain.

“You don’t even know me,” you protested, shaking your head.

He’d just lifted a shoulder, dragging the chair a little closer. He handed you another tissue, asked if you wanted some water. “If you told me your name, then I would.” His grin was infectious. “Besides, when I heard you crying, I couldn’t just keep walking.”

You talked for hours. Until the nurse came in and declared visiting hours over, your evening round of pain meds in your hand. Peter hovered as she pushed the syringe into your IV, and your vision swirled at the edges. Ah, morphine. “Say your goodbyes,” the nurse prompted, giving him a pointed glare. “Boyfriend can come back in the morning.”

“He’s not my…” you trailed off, the meds kicking in fast, making your words slur. Your hand flopped off the edge of the bed, and Peter could resist the urge to squeeze his fingers around yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he grinned, and you were out cold by the time he reached the door to your room.

You saw him the next day. And the next day. The day after that, and the day after that. He became a permanent fixture in the chair at your bedside, distracting you with anecdotes and cheesy jokes while your leg healed. He never showed up at the same time each day, but learned the visiting hours window quickly, and was good with his timing, always showing up within it. Your nurse still had to kick him out when he showed up later in the day, your visits often trailing well past the end of visiting hours, but she let him stay longer more than once.

He was there the day they discharged you, and helped you into the taxi to take you back to your apartment. He was patient, helping you up the steps and into the elevator, carrying your bags. At that point, you knew each other supremely well, and there was something so comforting about being around Peter, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“You hungry?” he asked, setting you up on your couch, propping your leg up the way the nurse had instructed. “I’m no chef, but I make a mean boxed mac and cheese.”

“Everything in my fridge has probably gone bad,” you pouted, wincing as you adjusted slightly. “It’s been weeks since I’ve been home.”

“Shit. Right.”

“Pizza?”

He grinned, nodding in agreement. “Pizza.”

And so you spent the day together on your couch, watching old movies and eating pizza. Peter made sure you had water close by, doled out the meds the hospital had given you, fluffed your pillows.

You forgot about the pain, and it wasn’t the drugs.

And before long, you were half asleep, as you were most nights when he visited you in the hospital. Except now, your head lolled on his shoulder, his t-shirt covered chest rising and falling beneath your hand. “I should go,” he mumbled into your hair. “Let you get some rest.”

“I can sleep here,” you mumbled back. “You can take my bed, if you want. You don’t have to go.” You hummed, your voice drenched with sleep, and then you were out like a light.

You woke some time later in your bed, your leg propped up on pillows, blankets pulled to your chin. There was a note on your nightstand, scrawled in a hasty hand.

Couldn’t leave you on the couch. Quite the first date, if you ask me. Hope you slept well - Peter x

Your eyes lingered on the words first date, and you tried to ignore the thump in your chest, but no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

About a month later, after your cast was removed, the first few rounds of physical therapy done, and you were feeling good.

Good enough to call Peter out.

You’d finally gone back to work, and perched at your desk, staring out the window on your lunch break, you dialed his number. You’d seen each other a few times since you’d been discharged, the odd cup of coffee when you were both free. But the note he’d left at your bedside still lingered in the back of your mind. You needed to know.

“Hello?” he answered with a grunt, and it sounded windy as hell wherever he was. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, spine prickling at the concern in his voice. “Everything’s fine, I’m just…”

“You’re what?” he questioned, almost heaving a breath on the other line.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He grunted, and there was a sound like he almost dropped the phone. “You’re what?”

“You called it a first date,” you spewed out, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “The day I came home from the hospital, when you stayed with me.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I did.” You could almost see the blush in his cheeks. “Is that okay with you?”

“It is,” you said slowly, ignoring the whip of wind on his end of the line. “But you realize that calling it a first date implies that there’s gonna be a second date.”

“Does it?”

“It does.”

“Then how about I pick you up at seven?”

“I wasn’t gonna do this,” you breathed out against his mouth. His hands - god, his hands - were on your hips, pulling you against him while his lips ghosted over yours. He’d spent the elevator ride mapping out the curve of your jaw, making your pulse jump beneath your skin as he roamed your neck. “I was gonna make you wait, I was gonna-”

“Shut up,” he mumbled back, and his hands jumped from your hips to your mouth, pulling you more firmly against him, his lips claiming yours. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”

He’d knocked on your door at almost half past seven, and as you yanked the door open, some chastising comment about him being late, he’d pushed a semi-crushed bouquet of flowers into your hands, leaning forward and pecking your cheek as he murmured, “You look nice.” And the comment died on your tongue.

Dinner was great. The conversation passed between you as easily as ever. You talked about work; your journalism gig was busy as ever, and when you told him you had Spider-Man to thank for your latest front page article. “Your pictures worked perfectly,” you said over the rim of your wine glass, not missing the way his ears turned red. “It was the perfect cover shot.”

“I’m glad.”

A few hours of conversation, a brief tussle over who would pay the bill - Peter won, claiming that it was your article that put his photo on the cover, so he owed you one - and you were walking back to your apartment. You had to stop a few times, rubbing at a rogue pain in your leg, and after the second time, Peter tugged on your hand until you were behind him, then gestured for you to hop up.

“Are you insane? Peter, I’m not light, you can’t-”

“I carried you to bed on our first date,” he quipped, dropping his hands and turning around. He watched the puzzle pieces fit together in your expression, the details sussing themselves out. It formed a little dip between your brows, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and smoothing his thumb over it.

“You did, didn’t y-”

And then he kissed you. Right there on the street, lamplight pouring over the both of you, the slight pain in your leg forgotten.

You were speechless when he pulled back, and a moment later, you were on his back, the pair of you striding towards your apartment.

He’d kissed you again in the lobby as he set you back on your feet. Again as you waited for the elevator. When it was blessedly empty, he crowded you into the corner and pushed his face into your neck, teeth scraping your pulse. When your breath hitched, he did it again. Again and again and again.

Then, inside your apartment, he pushed you against the wall, quieting your words, drinking them down with his hands on your face. Your blood thumped in your ears, heat flaring between your legs as he pushed his tongue between your teeth.

Fuck waiting.

He was careful. Gentle, even, as he snaked his hands back down your body, glancing around the curve of your ass before he was gripping behind your knees, lifting you up and against him. You squeaked at his strength, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom. You undressed each other slowly, lips never far apart as clothes scattered across the floor.

Something like panic flared in your eyes when you saw the bruises along his ribs, the scratch at his collar, but he kissed you again, silencing your worries when he snuck his hand down your front, fingertips licking at your nerves, pulling sensations to the surface of your body you hadn’t felt in a while.

The carefulness continued, both of you bathed in the darkness, the only source of light the slit in your curtains. Peter moved differently in the dark, somehow anticipating every move you made, as you explored each other. He pulled noises from you you didn’t think yourself capable of, making you cum hard once on his tongue before he was crawling over you on the bed, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as he made his way up to your lips once more.

There was that moment of realness, that pause of trepidation that filled the space between you when you fished a condom out of your nightstand. He hissed when you moved your hand over him, following his movements, tracing his outlines.

When he pushed into you, your good leg wrapped around his hip, his hands braced around your head, his face buried in your collar, you lost what little breath you had left. He managed to find every last nerve you needed touched, and it wasn’t long before you were losing it again, your head thrown back on the pillow, fingers buried in his wayward hard.

You fell asleep shortly after, curled on your side, Peter glued to your back.

But when you woke up, he was gone.

Peter avoided you as long as he could.

He felt bad about it, obviously, the guilt tugging at his insides anytime he saw something that reminded him of you, caught a scent in the air that smelled suspiciously like your shampoo.

He hadn’t wanted to leave. Truthfully, he could have stayed there in your bed all night, even if sleep evaded him. He would have watched you for hours, committed every inch of you to memory as you slept, maybe woke you up once or twice with his mouth or his hands or a combination, just to hear those sweet noises of yours again.

But then his senses had prickled, the scream of alarms outside reaching his ears. You stayed soundly asleep, your brow furrowing again. Despite everything in him yelling that he needed to go, Peter reached out, swiped his thumb across the dip in your skin yet again. It hadn’t disappeared when he’d kissed you hours ago, his movements taking you slightly by surprise, but then, your lashes fluttering with dreams, it smoothed out beneath his touch, and he smiled.

He didn’t want to leave.

He was falling for y-

The thought cut short. He shook his head, snuck out the fire escape and climbed to the roof of the building, pulling his gear out of his bag and disappearing across the city, his senses chasing the alarms.

The thought, and the feeling that accompanied it, wouldn’t leave him alone. Even when he went back home, Aunt May chiding him to eat him something when he appeared in the kitchen the next morning, his mind wandered back to you. You would have woken up alone, the only evidence he was there in the first place being the condom in your garbage can.

And the sucked bruise he’d left on the inside of your thigh.

He was a mix of longing and guilt, heat and despair. His body begged him to go back to you, to apologize as many times as it took for you to let him kiss you again. But his mind said no, told him it was too soon, that his past was too fresh.

But could you really put a timeline on grief?

He’d never forget Gwen, never forget the way he’d held her that night, the way life had so cruelly ripped her away from him. She was a part of him, forever. No amount of time would change that.

Aunt May’s voice echoed in his mind. What she’d said when he found her packing Uncle Ben’s things into boxes.

You’re throwing his stuff away?

No, god, no. I couldn’t do that. It’s part of me. I’m just finding a better place for it. I’m gonna take one last look, and I’m gonna put it where it belongs.

For years now, he wasn’t sure what to do with everything he felt for Gwen. It still loomed around his heart, clutching at him like a vise, sneaking up on him at the most inopportune of moments. The love he’d had for her, it had nowhere else to go, so it sat in him, brewing like oversteeped tea, making him feel sour for what he’d lost.

Finding a better place for it.

Put it where it belongs.

He intended to call you that day. He was running late for an appointment, rushing through the city streets, when he collided with someone, a cup of coffee falling to the sidewalk at his feet. He narrowly avoided the hot liquid, cursing under his breath, and then he caught the scent of your shampoo, forcing himself to ignore the way it twisted his gut.

But then he took a deeper breath, and realized it wasn’t just the smell of your hair.

It was you.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, shame and guilt washing his cheeks rosy. “I’m so sorry, I’m-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you said, rising to your feet, now-empty coffee cup in hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

He pulled you to the side, avoiding the coffee spill, dragging you into a doorway a few steps up from the sidewalk. You went willingly, but he could see the hesitation in your eyes, and he couldn’t blame you. Your eyes darted anywhere but his face, leaning back against the doorway, chewing at your lip.

“I screwed up,” he said bluntly, and that had your eyes zipping to his. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to sneak out on you, or avoid you, or any of it. I just…I’m sorry.”

Your brow lifted slowly. “You keep saying that.”

“Would you give me another chance?” he asked, the words still pouring out of him. “Please?”

Your chest lifted as you inhaled deeply. “I don’t hear from you for weeks, you come out of nowhere and spill my coffee, and you ask me for a third date?” Your tone was almost flat, but there was a quirk at the corner of your mouth you couldn’t hide.

Daringly, Peter took a step forward, crowding into your space. His hand hovered for a moment before he lifted it, curling his fingers and letting his knuckles trail down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered and he took another step.

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning down until his forehead was pressed to yours. His knuckles caressed your cheek again. “Please.”

Your next inhale was sharp and you tilted your head back, the tip of your nose moving along the curve of his. “I swear to god, Peter Parker, if you disappear on me again, I won’t-”

He was too busy kissing you to hear the end of the sentence.

Three days later, you had him in your bed again. It was an interesting evening, to say the least.

You made him wait this time. Sort of. It was your fourth date now, technically - you’d held out after the dinner he’d taken you to after your collison on th street - but the way he’d kissed you goodnight after this one had you saying fuck it to waiting yet again. There was something different about him, something less haunted in those dark eyes, something less hurried behind his movements.

Your kisses lingered in the elevator, the doorway, the hallway. You drank glasses of water in the kitchen, and Peter was distracted, his eyes catching on the drafts of your latest articles, spread out on the countertop. “No more Spider-Man?”

You lifted a shoulder. “No one’s seen him around in a while,” you answered, stepping close to him. “Plus, my favourite photographer disappeared on me.”

He cracked a smile. “Well, he won’t do that again, I’ve got it on good authority.”

Your smile echoed his. “Good.”

But then just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded. “Listen,” he started, his brow going hard, rubbing his hand up the back of his neck. “I promised myself I’d be honest with you, and there’s…there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, tilting your head to the side as you set your glass down. “So tell me.”

He braced both hands on the sink, pressing his lips together for a long moment before his head turned in your direction. “It was me that saved you that night. The car accident, when you broke your leg.”

Your brows pulled down, instantly confused. “No, it wasn’t. Peter, we didn’t even know each other back then, it was-”

The cops had told you who it was, your nurse repeating the story with the tiniest bit of disdain. It was what had inspired your front page piece, when you finally went back to work. A thank you, of sorts. It was-

“Spider-Man,” Peter says, his jaw hard enough to cut glass. Your head is spinning. “That’s me. I’m Spider-Man.”

You started laughing. Giggling like mad, nearly bent in half. “What are you-”

Without a word, Peter stepped away from you, one hand held palm up, and jumped. The ceilings in your apartment were low, but it was still a good three feet above your head. His bare hand connected with the ceiling…

…and stuck.

He swung slightly, staring down at you, his lips still pressed together.

“You…saved me?” you murmured out, your voice dropping as he did, his feet back on your kitchen tile. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Your memories of the accident were hazy; you’d spun out, your car diving off the edge of the bridge and into the river below. You remember being filled with fear as soon as the car hit the water, but the impact knocked you out. You woke up in the hospital later on, and the cops filled you in, told you that Spider-Man had carried you into the emergency department.

Peter just nodded. His shoulder lifted. “It’s kind of what I do.”

“But then you…?” you trailed off, your brow scrunching again.

He closed the distance between you, his thumb smoothing between your brows, something of a habit of his that you were already growing used to. “Then I came to see you in the hospital. I had to. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You…You’re Spider-Man.”

He smiled as his hand moved around the outline of your face, his thumb now riding the curve of your lower lip. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I’m having sex with Spider-Man?”

“I thought we were dating, too.”

You pushed at his chest, curling your fingers in the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him close. “I’m having sex with Spider-Man.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and you kissed the grin off his mouth. He moved faster than your eyes could track, grabbing you up into his arms, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

You lay sprawled in your bed hours later, the sun long gone. Peter is stretched out, his arm tucked behind his head, while you are laid on his chest, your chin resting on your hand. You’d only stayed quiet when he’d had his mouth on yours, your questions deterred while he was busy having his fill of you, making those sweet noises echo off the walls of your bedroom. He wasn’t sated, not by a long shot, but he could see the questions on your face as you both came down, chests heaving.

“Go ahead,” he prompts you, tugging you close. “Ask me.”

He tells you everything. He fields every question, tells you as much truth as he could bear. He doesn’t hold anything back, his words spilling out faster with every question on your lips. Soon enough, you’re kissing the words out of each other’s mouths, tangling in the sheets once again.

And then you have a secret of your own to share.

“I’m in love with you.”

His heart stalls in his chest. Every feeling he’d battled over the last few months brought back to the surface. “I…” His eyes search yours, so full of emotion - so full of truth - he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

He’s told you about Gwen. You know what happened, you know the story. And you hadn’t pressed him for details, when he first brought it up. You were in the hospital still, laid out in that bed, him perched in the chair beside you. Your fingers had curled through his when he first brought it up, your eyes shining back at him. “It’s okay, Peter. I…I lost someone too. A long time ago. I get it.”

He wants to. He wants to tell you the same. He wants to admit it - to you, and to himself, finally.

But…

“I can’t,” he says, the words feeling like lead weights on his tongue. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you reply, an echo of what you’d said when he’d first told you. “I get it, I just-”

He grabs your forearm, pulling you further up his chest, until he can bury his hand in your hair, his kiss cutting off your sentence. “Can you trust that I want to? That I want to say it, I just…need time? I’m not gonna ask you to wait for me, but if you-”

It’s your turn to cut him off, your mouth lingering on his. “I can wait, Peter. I will wait.”

And so it’s continued. More dates, more nights spent in your apartment. Walks through Central Park, dinners at Aunt May’s. May is in love with you from your very first meeting, which Peter predicted, and it’s all too easy to fall into the patterns, to become an even steadier part of each other’s lives.

Every time he has to go, his senses pulling him to another corner of the city, he sees the concern in your eyes. “Be careful,” you beg him, kissing him soundly. “Come back to me.”

“Always will,” he grins, returning the kiss, ducking out the window.

And he always does.

But now, he’s been gone for hours. You’ve been checking the news like a crazy person, scrolling on your phone, refreshing your best sources every few minutes. But nothing. You even go so far as to call the hospitals, making sure he hasn’t turned up in an emergency department somewhere. You can’t tell May; you can’t worry her like this.

Hours turn into days. You deter May’s worried calls with a white lie that Peter has food poisoning and has been sleeping it off at your place. Almost two days, and your worry is at an all time high. This is different. Something feels different, something you can’t quite put your finger on.

All you can do is wait. You told him you would.

The weird tingling from Dr. Strange’s spell fades, the brightness clouding his vision fading away, and Peter finds himself standing in your living room. A glance at the kitchen clock tells him it’s very early, and as the exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours starts to set in, already making his limbs heavy, he heads for your bedroom, stripping out of the suit as he goes.

By the time he steps through the doorway, he tosses the suit in the direction of your laundry bin. His mind is still spinning, churning with everything he’s witnessed in the last few days. He doesn’t really know how to make sense of it all, but there’s one thing he has to do.

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out and covering your shoulder with his hand, shaking gently as he pulls the blankets back with his other hand.

You grumble for a moment, your eyes cracking open, but when you see it’s him, you surge upwards, throwing your arms around his neck. “Peter!”

“Hi, baby,” he mumbles into your neck, dropping the blanket and wrapping his arm around your waist, the other finding a home in your hair. “Sorry I disappeared on you.”

“What happened?” you cry, pulling back, taking his face in your hands, your eyes instantly inspecting him. “You were gone for two whole days, I didn’t know what to-”

He kisses you hard, wrapping your hair around his knuckles. You return the affection, holding him as tightly as he’s holding you. “I wanna tell you what happened, but I don’t totally know myself? All I know is that I’m exhausted, and there’s something that I do have to tell you.”

You pull him down into bed, instantly fitting yourself against his side, pulling the blankets over you both. Puzzle pieces falling into place. Your brown furrows, and he moves his thumb over the dip. “What is it, Peter? Tell me.”

He drags his knuckles down your cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”

THE END.

#my fics #'til kingdom come #tfc writing challenge #tfc april challenge #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker fic #tasm fic #andrew garfield peter parker #idk how else to tag this #tasm peter parker fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker smut #Spotify

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pokemoncenter · 5 months ago

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I am in a nightmare situation called: I'm a water type trainer, but my eevee evolved into jolteon instead of vaporeon and is now terrorizing the rest of the team.

Is there any way to get jolteon to play in the water with the rest of the team without causing accidents, or would it be better to rehome it?

Unfortunately, there is not. A Jolteon's fur will build up electricity, regardless of the Jolteon's own will. This electricity is also vital to the Jolteon's health and grooming- The electricity repels dirt (to an extent) as well as fleas or other health risks.

A Jolteon may enjoy playing in the water, but it should not stay there for long. The water will dissipate its electricity, but this is a health risk if maintained for too long. If it would want to play in the water, I would generally recommend no more than about ten minutes at a time, and be sure its fur is fully spiky again before allowing it again.

A rehoming may not be necessary if you can manage to train it to keep it from discharging, but it is still something to consider if you will be spending too much time in the water.

#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #unreality #jolteon

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pokeroid-central · 5 months ago

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<<today's pokeroid is a GEN 1 drive System, named PKD-0297 Powyama (or was used to be called Iron hands in the past)!>>

Powyama is a heavy-power Class, Electric Quark type config GEN 1 Q.drive Pokeroid, that was designed for combat training, on-site emergency unit, and for heavy lifting. It has 2 Electro-magnetic powered hands that have a separate connection from the main body, that allows them to discharge electricity via its Electric type Q.drive. these hands have a recorded tonnage lifting weight of 33 tons (basically the average tanker truck when its loaded.) and are able to toss them with relative ease.

they're found in Paldea, hoenn ( mainly in cities mauville and at slateport), and even unova, all doing cargo lifting or aiding Medical/rescue Response teams incase of natural disasters or accidents. in paldea they regularly are seen in plains or mountains with hariyama and training with them.

PKD-0297 was created by Magnezone Labs at Paldea in 2065 to test the limits of how much a pokeroid can lift. as well as figuring out a way to introduce a versatile powerful pokeroid that can do various roles or jobs if it wanted. Oddly someone suggested the idea of basing the frame and body after Hariyama, and it turned out to be a major success with its capabilities reaching the specifications that Magnezone Labs desired.

#zetai speaks // zetai posts #pokeblog irl #rotumblr #future paradox pokemon #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #pokeroid information tag// future paradox pokemon lore #paradox pokemon #pokemon lore expanded

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would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend · 1 year ago

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I'd like to request Elekid! He seems like quite a silly little goober

Unfortunately, an elekid may not be the best pet for most owners. That being said, should someone be well-prepared to handle their needs and understood the inherent risks of elekid care. This is a case where there is some discrepancy between the pokédex data and move data, so you can happily take their score with a grain of salt.

To start with, like you said, they are “silly little goobers”! They are just the right size and temperament for a pet, as they are known to do well under the care of humans. They do get a little rowdy when storms approach (Sword), but the sound of storms raise their spirits, even if they’re recordings (Silver, Ultra Sun). It’s important to keep in mind that elekids might not get along well with other electric-type pokémon, since they may think they are trying to hog electricity; wild elekids have been seen in tussles with togedemarus for this very reason (Moon).

Speaking of electricity: elekids use it for both food and self defense, both of which harm their pet-compatibility score. For one, elekids like to get their food from electrical outlets like they’re baby bottles (Sun). Over time, it’s going to become much more expensive to feed an elekid than many other kinds of pets that happily munch on store-bought food. Expect a much bigger power bill! Some of the electricity they absorb, both through outside sources like outlets and by twirling their arms (Gold), is stored between their horns (Crystal). Fortunately, elekids cannot yet store very much electricity, so the worst you’ll receive if you touched one who hasn’t safely discharged is a “shocking jolt” (Ultra Moon). At least, that’s what the pokédex says.

Elekid’s moves say otherwise. Elekids can use a variety of pretty concerning electric-type moves that can really pack a bad punch, like Thunder and Thunderbolt. Moves like Discharge and Thunderwave can paralyze targets, an effect that could easily exacerbate serious health concerns. Now, none of this means that elekids are particularly aggressive. What it does indicate, however, is that their capacity for electric charge is much higher than what the pokédex indicates. If when the pokédex warns about accidental shocks they are referring to complete paralysis or a huge bolt of lightning, it becomes a much more serious accident risk! So just how dangerous is it to have an elekid around? This contradiction frustratingly makes it really foggy.

Surely, however, so long as someone knows the risks and provide their buddy with plenty of safe ways to discharge harmlessly, an elekid could be a manageable pet. Feel free to disagree with the score here, as elekids are definitely nowhere near the most risky electric-type pokémon we’ve covered. Just maybe steer clear if you have any heart problems…

#pokémon #pokemon #elekid #pkmn irl #PR-D

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harrisonarchive · 1 year ago

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Pattie and George at the airport, May 1972. Photo by Trinity Mirror/Mirrorpix/Alamy Stock Photo.

The following pertains to 1972, but, as most are probably familiar with the car crash photos (via Google), those will not be included here. On February 28, 1972, George and Pattie were in a car accident as they drove from Henley-on-Thames to London: "[The accident occurred] on the M4 motorway near Maidenhead in Berkshire. Around midnight, during an electrical blackour in the area, their 6-litre Mercedes car approached a recently opened roundabout and collided with a lamppost on a centre barrier. (The bright fluorescent lighting on the road had been extinguished just 75 minutes before the accident occurred.) George, with blood streaming down his face, and Patti [sic - Pattie], are immediately transferred by ambulance to Maidenhead Hospital where they are treated for their head injuries in the casualty department. George is discharged but has to return later to the hospital to have his stitches removed. He returns to his Henley mansion while Patti [sic - Pattie] is taken to the nearby Nuffield Nursing Home in Fulmer, Slough, suffering from concussion. She is detained for observation and the following morning the hospital announces that she is 'quite comfortable.'" - The Beatles Diary Volume 2: After The Break-Up 1970-2001 (2001) "July 12 - George appears before the magistrates in Maidenhead, to explain his car crash on February 28. He tells the court: 'I hit a motorway interchange crash barrier because I did not see the warning sign.' George is later found guilty of careless driving and is fined ₤20. In addition, his license is endorsed for the second time, the first being pm Tuesday February 23, 1971. [That charge was for 'driving without reasonable consideration,' per the same book.]" - The Beatles Diary Volume 2: After The Break-Up 1970-2001 (2001)

You can read an article about the accident at Meet The Beatles For Real.

#George Harrison #Pattie Boyd #quote #quotes about George #quotes by George #Harrison cars #1972 #1971 #1970s #fits queue like a glove

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year ago

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[ A team of amateur astronomers led by Marcel Drechsler, Xavier Strottner and Yann Sainty made a surprising discovery to win the overall prize in the 2023 Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition. "Andromeda, Unexpected" shows a huge plasma arc next to the Andromeda Galaxy, the closest large spiral galaxy to our Milky Way. ]

By: Jess Thomson

Published: Sep 15, 2023

The universe is filled to the brim with weird and wonderful sights, which we are often lucky enough to see thanks to the skills of astrophotographers.

This year's Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition, run by the Royal Observatory Greenwich in the U.K., showcases some of these unique spectacles, ranging from the roaring surface of our sun to our galactic neighbor Andromeda.

Giant Plasma Arc

The overall winning entry of the Astronomy Photographer of the Year 2023, taken by Marcel Drechsler, Xavier Strottner and Yann Sainty, shows the Andromeda galaxy next to an unexpected hazy blue cloud.

This cloud, never before seen, is thought to be an enormous arc of plasma stretching across the space between the Milky Way and our neighboring galaxy, situated 2.5 million light years away.

"What you see is [a] gigantic blue arc of ionised oxygen gas that has never been seen before," amateur astronomer and astrophotographer Drechsler explained in a statement.

This picture reveals how new findings are always being uncovered just under our noses, as we have been observing Andromeda for over 100 years. The reason that the arc—christened the Strottner-Drechsler-Sainty Object 1 (SDSO-1)—had not been spotted before is that it only emitted light in the Oxygen 3 (OIII) wavelength, and was very faint. OIII is a wavelength of light emitted by clouds of oxygen, which only comprise around 1 percent of gas in the universe: hydrogen, by contrast, makes up over 75 percent.

"It was an absolute accident," Drechsler said. "No one expected to see it and that's why it's called Andromeda, Unexpected, because we wanted to take a beautiful image of the Andromeda Galaxy. And we looked at the first data and we spotted this hazy smudge on the edge of the image."

[ Angel An won in the Skyscapes category for snapping the extremely rare phenomenon of Sprites—or red lightning—in which atmospheric luminescence appears like fireworks. "It creates an unsettling, alien image that can't help but draw your eye," said judge Ed Bloomer. ]

Red Sprite Lightning

The winner of the competition's "Skyscapes" category is a spectacular red sprite lightning display, photographed by Angel An.

"Sprites are large-scale, lightning-like discharges that happen above thunderstorms," Caitano L. da Silva, a physics professor at New Mexico Tech, previously told Newsweek.

"They happen in response to powerful cloud-to-ground (CG) flashes in the underlying thunderstorms. These CG flashes radiate a strong electric field that creates sprites at the edge of the lower ionosphere, aka the edge of space," da Silva said. "Sprites are brief, but are huge, 50 km [30 miles] tall by 50 km [30 miles] across, about the size of a small town."

This image was taken at Lake Puma Yumco, in Tibet, China.

"I was standing on the highest ridge of the Himalaya mountains, enjoying the dancing lightning sprites like gorgeous fireworks in the night sky," Angel said. They acted as fairy-like creatures, giving a transient firework show for the audience on Earth. Seeing this extremely rare phenomenon of atmospheric luminescence with such high intensity was something that I have never witnessed before."

[ Eduardo Schaberger Poupeau's photograph of the sun with a huge solar filament in the shape of a question mark won in the Our Sun category. "If you zoom into the surface of the Sun, the image has a paint-like quality—I feel like I can see the brush strokes," said judge Sheila Kanani. ]

Solar Tendrils

The winner of the "Our Sun" category is a close-up of the sun's surface taken by Eduardo Schaberger Poupeau, showing a long tendril of solar plasma.

"This is such a clever image as while we have seen the granulation and surface of the Sun before, I've never seen a filament shaped like a question mark before," Sheila Kanani, competition judge, said in a statement. "If you zoom into the surface of the Sun, the image has a paint-like quality—I feel like I can see the brush strokes. There's a sense of movement and you can almost see the question mark filament moving if you stare long enough."

[ Ethan Chappel won in the Our Moon category for capturing in detail the moon passing in front of Mars on December 8, 2022. Judge Steve Marsh described the occultation as "one of the last and greatest celestial events of 2022." ]

Mars and the Moon

The "Our Moon" category was won by an image of the occultation of Mars by the moon, which is when Mars passes behind the moon in our skies. This image shows Mars as it peeked out from behind our satellite on December 8, 2022, as taken by Ethan Chappel from Texas.

"To capture the level of detail on Mars that you see here takes a huge amount of skill and practice," Steve Marsh, a competition judge, said in the statement. "Combined with a crisp, clear, perfectly processed lunar limb, the result is like taking a gigantic telephoto lens into lunar orbit itself! This image is a technical marvel and a real treat to look at. Two factors which make it a worthy winner in this category."

[ Monika Deviat's image of an abstract aurora in the shape of a brushstroke topped the Aurorae category. "We are accustomed to seeing aurora from an earthly perspective with mountains, trees and humanmade structures framing the dancing lights. This photograph offers something different, showcasing the beauty of the aurora in isolation," said judge Katherine Gazzard. ]

Northern Lights

The winner of the "Aurorae" category was of a long flame-like wisp of aurora, taken by Monika Deviat in Finland. Auroras are caused by solar wind slamming into the Earth's atmosphere and magnetic field, causing gases to emit light in the form of the northern and southern lights.

"This photograph is an aurora abstract. I focused on this structure as it looked like a painter's brushstroke across a canvas. It's not the usual corona or big nightscape scene, but I thought it was a unique and beautiful shape with the feathered ends. I pointed the camera almost straight up to capture this formation," Deviat said in a statement.

New Nebula

The winner of the "Stars and Nebulae" category was an image of a galactic nebula around the YY Hya star, taken by Marcel Drechsler from Germany and Xavier Strottner from France over 360 hours of exposure across 100 nights.

This nebula was previously unknown to science.

"In its centre, a pair of stars surrounded by a common envelope was found. For the first time, amateurs and scientists have succeeded in providing evidence for a fully developed shell of a so-called 'common envelope system'," the photographers explain in a statement.

Several other images won their categories, while tens of others filled the longlist and shortlists, all revealing the beauty and mystery of the universe.

"Once again, entrants to the Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition have conspired to make things difficult for the judges, with a flood of high-quality images covering an amazing range of targets. The highlight of this year is perhaps a number of genuine discoveries being imaged, but we've had wonderful efforts in every category," Ed Bloomer, an astronomer at Royal Observatory Greenwich, said in a statement.

[ The Young Astronomy Photographer of the Year was awarded to two 14-year-old boys from China—Runwei Xu and Binyu Wang—who captured the vibrant colors of the Running Chicken Nebula. The giant cloud of dust and gas is nicknamed that because it looks like a giant chicken running across the sky, according to NASA. ]

[ Tom Williams topped the Planets, Comets & Asteroids category for photographing a unique view of Venus using infrared or ultraviolet false color. "Capturing these atmospheric details from the sunlit side of the planet when it is so far from Earth is a remarkable achievement," said judge László Francsics. ]

[ The Sh2-132 complex lies near the border of the Cepheus and Lacerta constellations and contains multiple deep sky structures. Aaron Wilhelm's winning photograph in the Best Newcomer category includes 70 hours of data and shows the rich interplay of all the gases. ]

[ John White claimed the Innovation prize for capturing the sound of a black hole at the center of the Perseus Galaxy using audio source material from NASA's Chandra Sonification Project and playing it through speakers with a petri dish attached to them. "Here, we are shown an interesting and playful visualisation of astronomical data that we could not 'see' by ourselves nor 'hear'. This is an image of a sound generated by a source that is invisible. Stark, beautiful, rather weird, and certainly innovative!" said judge Ed Bloomer. ]

[ Vikas Chander's photograph of star trails poking through the gray sky above a ship stranded in the treacherous, most northern part of Namibia's Atlantic-facing coast on August 25, 2008, prevailed in the People & Space category. ]

#astronomy #space #andromeda galaxy #religion is a mental illness

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dibidibifiction · 2 years ago

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Reasons to Live

Pairing: Kim Jonghyun x Reader

Category: romance

TRIGGER WARNING: depression, self-harm, death, foul language

Word count: 3.5k+

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist

...

TWO YEARS EARLIER

JONGHYUN

I hear the curtain metal rings slide harshly two opposite ways, shocking me awake.

“Oh, good. You were sleeping with your mouth open.”

“Great. Thanks, Mom,” I say sarcastically, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s already ten past five. I’m going home. Are you going to be okay?” my mom asks. She has taken care of me since day one I’ve been in this hospital. But now, since I’ve improved a lot, I insisted that she doesn’t have to visit every day.

“Yes, ma’am,” I roll my eyes jokingly.

“Aww, Jonghyun, you should find a woman who will take care of you from now on instead of bothering me,” she joins my kidding around.

After she pinches my cheeks and kisses me, she heads out the door. I sit up to reach for my phone on the side table. I got messages from the boys on our group chat.

14:36

Kim Kibum: Hey, Kim Jonghyun! When are you getting discharged? You’re delaying our project. Get your shit together, yeah? Love you

15:18

Jinki: They ran some tests on you a few days ago, right? How did they go?

15:24

Minho: Hope everything’s okay, Hyung. We’re just here waiting for you~

16:20

Taemin: Hyung, did you receive my fruit basket? Hope you like it.

Reading their messages instantly puts a smile on my face. I start typing to reply that everything’s good and that I’m getting out of here soon. Maybe next week at the very least.

I’ve been in this hospital for almost a month because of the car accident on my drive to my parents’ house after work. It was already dark and I was on the expressway when it started to rain so heavily that visibility was close to zero. Unexpectedly, a huge truck was running too fast in my direction. I managed to avoid it but then made me hit an electric post. Even though I was in a coma for three days, still, lucky for me, I had very little damage compared to others who have gotten into accidents like this.

I’ve never felt more alive. It may be hard to believe or even admit, but it might be a miracle, what happened to me. I was in such unbearable pain that I could already imagine my loved ones crying at my funeral.

I grab my little notebook and head up to the rooftop. I sit in my usual spot, which is at the very corner of the floor, overlooking the city. The city lights are like stars, the cars like elves, and the people like ants. It’s like a whole new weird world. I pull up my pen inserted at the last page I wrote on. Every time I have an idea for a song or a poem, I always write it here.

As I’m turning the pages to look back on what I’ve written, I catch a glimpse of someone’s legs way across this wide rooftop. It looks like a person lying on the floor.

“Hello?” I call out.

No response.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” My voice is a little louder, hoping to be heard.

Still nothing. Not even a subtle movement.

I drop everything and walk briskly over to check on them.

I gasp at a young girl in a hospital gown like mine, which means she must be a patient too. I draw closer to see that she’s unconscious. And pale.

My heart twists, I hurriedly kneel down to her side and lightly put my head on her chest to check her heartbeat.

Shit, I hear nothing. A quick shiver sends through me.

Her pulse. I quickly grab her hand to feel her wrist and hope to feel something.

Thank God. I exhale after what feels like twenty minutes. “Stay here. I’ll go get help.”

I run down four flights of stairs and realize how ridiculous that sounded since she couldn’t even hear me. I finally reach the nearest nurse’s station, catching my breath in order to get words out.

“Excuse me! There’s a girl up on the roof. She’s unconscious. Please help!”

A nurse nods once and quickly picks up the telephone. She recites something I didn’t quite understand. Two guys with a stretcher appear immediately and ask me to let lead the way.

. . .

It’s now hours later and I can’t stop thinking about her. My last sight of her keeps flashing before my eyes. She was pale and almost lifeless. She looks pretty with her dark neck-length hair, her thin bangs fly off her forehead because of the wind. I wonder what’s wrong with her. I hope she’s okay now. Turns out she is the one who stays in the room next to mine.

My door slowly opens for a nurse to take the tray of my already finished dinner. “Hey, um, do you know what happened to the girl next door?”

“Do you know her?” he asks me right back, his eyes dead.

“Actually, yeah, I went to college with her.” I lie.

“Oh, okay, then,” he sighs. “Well, she attempted to kill herself again.”

My jaws drop in shock. “What?” I stutter. My heart sinks even more at the word ‘again.’

“It’s the third time she’s done that during her stay here. I really hope she'll stop. I’m worried about her. She doesn’t even have a family for us to call for a situation like this. There’s only this one guy that comes over every now and then.” His eyes suddenly change and fill up with pity when he walks out the door.

---

PRESENT DAY

Y/N

I run to the bus stop to see Jonghyun already waiting for me by his car in hazard mode at the side of the road. Two weeks passed and this is the most I’ve seen him since he’s been busy with his comeback.

He spots me, then waves so happily that he’s almost jumping.

I land in his arms. “Jonghyun, I missed you,” I weep on his chest.

He pulls away to look at my face, cupping my cheeks. “How’s my girl?” his eyes twinkle. He lovingly leans in for a five-second kiss.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” I pout.

“No, I just got here,” he smiles. “Shall we?”

We both hop in his car and drive to Taemin’s house to have dinner with the boys. It was supposed to be a celebration for their comeback promotion weeks ago but it always fell through. Now that their promotion ended, they decided to have the gathering tonight. It was Minho and Kibum’s idea. Taemin offered his place to hold it.

They love a good party. Kibum wanted to invite as many people as they could but Minho wanted an intimate gathering with just close friends. The decision was made democratically but it was tied up. So all that long heated, turbulent discussion led us to the lowkey one with just close friends.

Jonghyun and I arrive with three handsome boys already in sight. Minho greets me with a warm hug and then leads me toward the kitchen where Jinki and Kibum are preparing food.

“Mmm, smells good over here. Where’s Taemin?” I ask no one in particular while I make my way to sit on a spinning stool by the island.

“He’s not here yet,” Kibum answers me while he holds a wooden spoon in front of me to let me taste his soondubu stew.

“What? He’s late even at his own party being held at his house. Great.” I say as I nod approvingly to Kibum, telling him that it’s delicious.

Jinki giggles. “That’s our youngest.”

I laugh, wiping off droplets of soup on my chin.

“Speak of the devil,” Kibum mutters as soon as I hear the front door beep.

I welcome Taemin with a giggle and my arms open for a hug. “Hey, what are you doing late at your own party?” I say, pulling away from his one-hand embrace.

“I came as fast as I could. You’re at my house. Stop complaining!” he laughs too.

. . .

It is now four hours later. Jonghyun and I are back in his car on our way to his apartment. I insisted he takes me home but he insisted harder for me to stay at his place since it’s closer.

“Plus, I missed you and I want to be with you a little longer,” he says, kissing my hand while his eyes are on the road.

“Really? Well...” I say, having something in mind. I start drawing closer to him and slide my palm on his lap up to his crotch. I lean in closer, humming into his ear.

He swallows. “Hey, I’m driving.”

I laugh at him. “Fine, I’ll wait until we get home.”

“Home?” He looks at me for a second, smiling. Then back on the road.

I pause, thinking of what I said. “What?”

“Did you just propose for us to live together?”

“Where’d that come from? You’re making stuff up again.” I playfully punch his arm.

He laughs out loud. It is so beautiful that it is the most musical sound I’ve ever heard.

After a few seconds of silence, he grabs my hand. I turn to him, waiting for him to say something. “So, do you want to move in?”

My mouth opens in quite a confusion but immediately curves into a huge smile. “Yeah, of course! I’d love that,” I screech. I lean into him for a kiss on his cheek, then rest my head on his shoulder while he pulls over into parking.

He turns to me, cupping my cheek. “I love you so much, Y/n.”

It makes me melt every time he says those words to me. My eyes fill in with tears. “I love you, too.”

---

TWO YEARS EARLIER

An overflowing burning sensation boils in my stomach, making me abruptly sit up and throw up on myself. I feel like my internal organs are about to come out of my mouth. I feel so heavy that I can't open my eyes. When I do, it’s brief and cloudy.

I suddenly hear the door open. Somebody walks into my room. A nurse perhaps. After I feel them carefully laid me back down, I catch a blurry figure of a man standing in my direction by the door outside my room. Before I can control my own consciousness, everything goes black again.

. . .

I slowly open my eyes with the sun blaring at me. It irritates the shit out of me. I get out of bed in an attempt to close my blinds but somebody stops me.

“Whoa, wait, be careful.” A guy in a hospital gown like mine suddenly appears before me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I glare at him.

He looks startled by my sudden rage. Despite this, he adjusts the wire connecting the needle inserted in my arm and the IV that’s hung next to my bed before I could mess it up.

“Let me get that for you,” he mutters before closing the blinds for me, leaving a bit of sunlight.

My face relaxes from frowning as I watch him walk back toward me. He sits on the chair next to my bed. I notice his attractive appearance. Dark hair that covers his entire forehead, a cute smile and a muscular body. I somehow get lost in his stare with those innocent and sparkly eyes, making the anger inside me fade. I feel some kind of warm relief.

“Uh, I’m Jonghyun. Sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I have not heard about you since I found you on the roof a few days ago.”

I snap out, bringing back my scowl. “Why?”

He stutters. “Well-”

“We don’t even know each other.”

“No, but-”

“Do you like me? Is that why you saved me?” I’m getting more pissed with this stranger in my room. “Or are you just trying to be some kind of a hero that saves my life, then our story would turn into a cheesy romantic cliché?

Silence. He just stares at me. Probably awkward and shocked.

“Get out of here before I call security.”

Without saying anything else, he gets up from his seat and walks to the door. Looking flustered, he glances back at me before sliding it close behind him.

. . .

The moon has come out. It’s the only time of day that I appreciate the outside. I stand before the window, looking out, watching the cars and cabs go about down there. Thinking that there are millions of people existing, I question why the fuck I’m alone.

Literally.

Emotionally.

I fall on my butt, and for the first time in almost a year, I cry out loud. Extremely loud. Numbingly loud. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I pull my hair out, punch my head, slap my own face. Dig my nails into my neck, scratch down to my chest, and then my arms. I kick my legs hysterically. Repeatedly.

I hate being alive.

Eventually, my hearing went faint, abandoning its purpose. I feel someone grab me from behind, restraining me tightly.

“Let me go! Just please let me go. Please! I don’t want to be alive anymore.” I continue to scream furiously, trying to escape everything that tries to come at me.

But then, I see that it’s Minho who’s hugging me. I crash into his arms, shut the fuck up, and cry silently.

“Y/n, I’m here. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m here for you. Please, stop now,” he hushes me. I can finally hear his voice. He's the only one I can trust. His embrace is the only comforting thing to me.

I’m breathing heavily, trying to calm down. I watch a nurse approach with a syringe but Minho immediately shoves it away.

We just stayed like this. I have not idea how long but I don’t want it to end.

After some time, the noises in my head settle down. I can see clearly again.

---

PRESENT DAY

JONGHYUN

After my radio show, I come home to a beautiful lady waiting for me on the couch in the dressing gown I got her for Christmas last year, and a pair of thick-framed reading glasses with a book in hand.

I join her, laying my head between her breasts. “Hi, roomie.” I look up at her, then give her a wink. We talked about moving in together weeks ago and the day I’d been waiting for has finally come. She’s finally settled in with me. There couldn’t be any other day happier than this.

She hisses. “Shut up,” then goes back to reading her book, blocking my view of her pretty little face.

I hiss back. I then crawl out off the couch to pick her up bridal style, spinning her around.

Y/n shrieks, laughing. “Jonghyun, stop!”

So I do. “Oh, hey, we haven’t done that thing couples do once they move in.”

“I thought you were going to be too tired from work,” she says, her arms around my neck.

Her thinking about sex is heaven to me! But that’s not what I’m talking about. “No, stupid,” I chuckle at her while I put her down on her feet. “Come here.” I grab her hand for her to follow me out the front door.

“Wait, what? Where are we going? I’m not dressed,” she complains.

I close the door once we get out. Y/n is still confused about what we’re doing. I pick her up again, bridal style. “Now, enter the code.”

She doesn’t say anything else and does as I say.

Once she opens the door, “Welcome home!” I cheer.

She laughs out loud. “Oh, so now we’re officially living together. Amazing!” she says playfully.

But I don’t put her down just yet and head to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re doing that other thing that couples do when they move in together.”

“Yay!” she cheers, then kisses me deeply on the spot as I bring the action to our bedroom.

---

TWO YEARS EARLIER

There’s a knock on the door while I watch a movie on the flatscreen. I hit pause on the remote control.

“Hyung!” Minho calls out enthusiastically as he enters my room with bags of food in his hand.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t a guy visit his guy friend who is unlucky enough to get into an accident?” he jokes around, handing me my lunch.

“Thank you very much,” I bow to him.

Minho and I do some catching up, talking about his new drama series, and some other work stuff until our conversation finds itself about the girl staying next door.

“Then she just kicked me out of her room and threatened to call security on me. This is what she did to a person who saved her life?” I pout.

“Oh, my God. You’re the stalker she’s been talking about?”

“Stalker? Woah, that woman. After what I did for her?” My blood is boiling with intense irritation. But it subsides quickly once I realize something. “Wait, you know her?”

“Yeah, I actually spent the night in her room.”

I pause, staring at Minho in confusion. “You’re not… Nothing’s going on with you two, is there?

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’ve known her since childhood. Our parents used to be close. That was when her mother was still alive and her dad hadn’t moved to Japan.”

“Wow, she has it tough, huh?” Just like that, irritation turns compassion.

“Yeah, but there’s more to that. Something that no one can explain, not even her herself.”

She’s been suicidal. Her depression has taken a lot from her. Hearing this makes me want to look after her more.

---

PRESENT DAY

Y/N

Since then, Jonghyun had been visiting me every evening to have dinner together even when I kept pushing him away, asking him to stop trying to save me.

Days after he got discharged, he came back, but I wasn’t in my room anymore. When he found out that I was transferred to the psychiatric ward, he came running to my door.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were being transferred?”

“Why would I?” I frowned.

“Right,” he laughed awkwardly.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Hey, what are you-”

He trailed off, his face turning red as he listened. It’s definitely Minho.

I suddenly snatched the phone from Jonghyun’s hand and walk near the door out of earshot. “Hey, where the hell are you?” I scolded Minho in a whisper. “You are not letting him-”

“It’s okay, Y/n. He means well. Maybe it’s time for you to let somebody else in for a change,” he laughed statically. “Love you.”

I sighed in irritation as I heard the dial tone. “Here.” I hand Jonghyun’s phone back to him while he just smiled at me goofily.

If it wasn’t for Minho, I never would’ve trusted anyone again. And because of Jonghyun, trusting and loving again was worth it.

By the time I got discharged from the ward, Jonghyun and I eventually started dating officially. He was always there for me. Offered to come with me to my therapist twice a week but I insisted that I could go by myself. I would meet the rest of the boys not long after we got together. Since then, I’ve got the best friends ever.

Sooner or later, I would get back to work in teaching kindergarten. I can’t imagine my career going any other way. I thank myself for being alive today. Some days, I’d join Jonghyun and the boys in organizing a charity mission. I’d teach kids in far provinces. I forgot how fulfilling working with children was when I was too busy being miserable.

I’ve never felt so alive. Not to mention grateful.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” my dad tells me with a big smile on his face.

“Thanks, Dad,” I smile back at my computer screen. “By the way, when are you coming? You should tell me ahead of time so I can prepare you something.”

Before I can hear his response, the front door of my apartment beeped. “Oh, I have to go. Jonghyun’s here.”

“I should really meet this Jonghyun. You’re talking about him a lot,” he says.

I shake my head and laugh at him before hanging up.

“Was that your dad?” Jonghyun asks as soon as he approaches and kisses me on the lips.

“Yeah.”

“Is he coming to visit?”

“He didn’t say,” I tell him, shutting down my laptop.

I stare at Jonghyun while he removes his shoes and walks towards me.

“What?” he asks, then kisses me on the forehead.

Trying not to tear up, I just shake my head and giggle at him. If it wasn’t for Jonghyun, my life would be so much different right now. Hell, I’d be dead. Because of him, I regained my bond with my dad.

Months ago, they had to go to Japan for work and he made me come with them so my father and I could finally talk. We had never seen eye to eye ever since Mom died. We had drifted apart. Now, we are closer than ever.

I’m not saying my depression is gone and my attacks are non-existent anymore. They still come every now and then, although not as bad as before. Jonghyun has always been so caring and understanding. I could cry just thinking about it. I got to be with the best person and have the best friends in the world.

#hi! it's been quite a while since i last posted a story on here #the last post i made was in June 2021 #anyway i'm always grateful for everyone who reads my work and likes them #i'm not promising anything but i'll try to post more stories for you #i hope you enjoy this Jonghyun x reader fiction #in this piece i expressed how much Jonghyun and the rest of SHINee means to me despite having to go through difficult times #happy reading!#shinee jonghyun #kim jonghyun #SHINee fanfiction #shinee fanfic #shinee x reader #jonghyun x reader

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