#The Imperfectionist

[sopstvena]

One antidote is to allow yourself to imagine what it might feel like to know you'd never fully get on top of your work, never become a really disciplined exerciser or healthy eater, never resolve the personal issue you feel defines your life's troubles.

[...] When I let myself be permeated by this thought – that I might be stuck with certain inner disturbances forever – I definitely feel a bit of peevishness in response: "Wait, I'm never going to get to the problem-free phase? That's not what I signed up for!" But then comes the sense of a heavy burden having been lifted. The pressure's off. I get to unclench, relax, and fall back into the life I'm living. Far from this being dispiriting, I find myself much more motivated to get stuck in. It turns out my really big problem was thinking I might one day get rid of all my problems, when the truth is that there's no escaping the mucky, malodorous compost-heap of this reality. Which is OK, actually. Compost is the stuff that helps things grow.

— Oliver Burkeman, Are We There Yet?

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 10

part 9 | part 11

pairing: vinny hong x jo!reader

cw: fem!reader, jo!reader, second person's pov (you, you're, your) rAgh get ready this part is just the beginning

—

On the way to Vinny’s house, you stopped by a convenience store that didn’t have that many people compared to the ones in the middle of the city. The last thing you’d want is to attract unwanted attention, and worse case scenario, to be spotted by someone your parents know and be reported looking like this and with a male.

Your stomach was begging to be filled. So with a single “hey, can I eat at your house?” to Vinny, he agreed—well sort of—and told you to grab something. If you weren’t being considerate you wouldn’t have had asked for permission, but it’s his house and you have to be respectful.

You both went to the convenience store but he said he’ll just wait for you outside. You grabbed convenience store food for the both of you. You didn’t bother to ask if he was hungry, you bought him food as an initiative. After you paid at the counter, you went out through the glass door of the convenience store and found Vinny outside. 

Taking a good look at his face clearly with the help of the light from inside the convenience store, now you can see some of the bruises that weren’t noticeable a while ago because the evening sky was already dark, started showing in hues of purple-blue. You know those hurt, but he’s either numb or good at hiding pain.

Just like you. 

“Ice?” Vinny asked after he examined the bag you were carrying when you got out of the convenience store. The ice was in a transparent plastic bag while the food was in a translucent one so he didn’t see you bought two sets of them.

“It’s for your bruised face.”

He didn’t reply. 

Why do you care? 

He started walking forward with you following behind, trusting him to lead you to his home. You don’t know why you trust him this much either, maybe it’s because he has shown you a lot of proof that regardless of his grumpy attitude, he’s harmless. You have trust issues, but somehow you don’t sense any ulterior motive when it comes to Vinny, even if your first impression of him wasn’t all that.

Vinny stopped walking in front of a gate down a small neighborhood. You immediately get the hint that you’ve arrived at his house. Vinny held the keys to the gate, he was about to open it, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He thinks about the fact that you’re wealthy and his house isn’t really pleasant to be in for someone standing in a social class like that such as you. He’s insecure of his status, and he’s ashamed of you seeing the proof of it. He contemplates whether he’s making the right decision. There’s a big part of him that wants to back out and decide otherwise.

But then when he looked over his shoulder to you, there was no sign of discomfort nor displease. Nothing but your normal face, patiently waiting for him to open the gate. He snapped out of his thoughts and wordlessly continued to open it. The priority here is treating your wounds and not anything else.

When you stepped inside his home, there were a few scattered things, although it wasn’t messy. It’s warm and it’s home. You scanned the interior as Vinny searched for the first aid kit his mother had, avoiding to see your expression, because if you were disgusted by his house, he’d rather not see it, honestly. But you weren’t. Not in the slightest.

While scanning his home, your eyes caught a glimpse of a wooden framed picture. It’s Vinny when he was a kid, and an older woman behind him holding his shoulders, who you reckon is his mother. There was another person but it looked like the picture was cut and the person was cropped off the frame. His dad? You shrugged it off and stared at the picture intently, specifically at the young Vinny. He has the same fiery hair and hetero-hued eyes. His unique facial features are natural, after all. 

Quite a lively looking kid, he was. 

He’s cute.

Meanwhile when Vinny found the kit, that was the first time he laid eyes on your face ever since you got inside his house, although only one side of your face was available in his view, he could see your small smile while looking at the framed picture. He halted his steps while holding the box.

You envied how he looks with his mother. In the portrait, he looked happy regardless of his knocked off front tooth. His mother was, too. How you wish you could experience that. You cannot recall a Jo family picture where your smiles are of genuine happiness. You shook your head and diverted your attention to Vinny, the grown-up one, who was now carrying a box, the first aid kit.

“You’re quite cute when you were younger. I wish you hadn’t grown up.” You commented and sat yourself at the floor, opening the plastic bag of convenience store food. Vinny’s mouth set in a hard line. “Can I have that picture?” you pointed at the framed picture.

“No.” He sat down with you while still keeping distance, that you didn’t mind, and avoided your eyes. 

“Fine.” You glared at him. “Eat while you deal with your cuts.” you gestured to his food. 

Vinny eyed at the instant ramyeon and self heating rice. “It’s you who should eat, not me. I didn’t tell you to buy food for me, I’m not hungry.”

“You are now.” you faced the mirror on his wall behind where you were sitting while holding your glasses and disregarded him. “I’ve missed you.” 

Vinny accidentally broke his avoidant eye streak to look at you, because for a second there he thought you were talking to him. You held your glasses like it was a beloved living thing before discarding Jay’s spare one that you borrowed and putting it inside the protective case, and wearing yours. 

“Go on, eat.” you told him while still looking at yourself in the mirror. You also pointed at the ice to gesture to him to ice his bruises.

Eventually, after contemplating, he took one bite and then got the gauze pads and betadine bottle himself to treat his cuts. You observed him, he sucks a sharp breath and hisses whenever he presses the gauze pad on his cuts. He’s having trouble with it, because he’s pressing his hand on his own wounds too hard. You sighed.

“Give it here.” you got the gauze pad from his hand and threw it. “You’re too rough with your own skin.” Then, you got a pint sized cotton ball and dampened it with betadine solution.

You pressed lightly under his eye. Vinny thought it’d hurt still, but when you were the one doing it, it didn’t. When Vinny registered the close proximity between the two of you, he looked away immediately. While you were focused on treating his wounds and completely oblivious, rather casual, to even consider just how close your face was to his right now.

Vinny opened his mouth while still avoiding looking at you directly. “You do have a sort of calling to always patch people up. Tsk, I can do it myself. Stop doing things for me.”

Not even Sung, that little fucker, has touched his face in any context, yet here you are.

“I just don’t want to see you in the emergency room when you get an infection because you treat your injuries poorly.” you looked up at his eyes for a second and continued with the scratches on his cheek. “Besides, the reason I asked if you have a first aid kit is because I want to know if you have tools to patch yourself up. You’re the one who wanted me in your house.”

Vinny’s mouth slightly hung open in disbelief. “Because I thought you wanted to patch yourself up before you go home!”

“Whatever.” you dismissively uttered. 

His hunch while waiting for you outside the convenience store, and strengthened by the ice, was right.

Both of you are here right now because you thought about each other’s injuries.

He thought of the conversation he had with Sung just a few days ago. “How is your stab wound, by the way?”

Your fingers halted as you were taken aback by his question. 

“It’s… fine, I mean, not fully, but the wound's closed. Although even if it’s already semi-healed, it sometimes stings when the weather’s cold.”

When you attended to his busted lip, he had the chance to finally look at you without you noticing because your eyes were fixated on the corner of his lip and you wouldn’t notice if he stares at your face. His eyes perceived your appearance in this closer look he was getting. Greyish feline eyes, long lashes, flowy dark hair. 

He thinks you look like somebody he currently knows, but he can’t point a finger who. 

“Done.” you finished securing the gauze with surgical tape. “You still gotta ice those bruises, though.” You sanitize your hand and pick up your chopsticks to go back to eating your ramyeon. “Don’t touch your wounds, wash your hands first. the E.R. 's cramped enough.” you reminded him.

Vinny groaned at your nagging as you continued eating. He stared at you as you spilled five whole ketchup packets on your corndog. Okay, that’s a lot, you clearly love ketchup, he can see that.

“Do they pay you in that hospital?” He asked while paying close watch to your weird eating habit.

“No, there’s no place for a high school student there. I’m just there because my mother wanted me to familiarize myself with medical procedures before I go to college. But then I became divergent from her sponsor and–” you stopped when you realized something. “The hospital training… Oh no, oh no, no. What is she going to say?” 

You anxiously sat and covered your mouth as you thought how you hadn't attended hospital training for weeks. 

“She’s going to kill me.” you mumbled, still anxious.

Beside you, Vinny looked puzzled. “Who?”

“My mom.”

“Oh.”

Vinny tried to read your facial expression yet he couldn't. Your mother must really be a problem. The fact that you were seriously willing to be stitched up by him, rather than go to a hospital where your mother would see you, already says a whole lot. Plus, the fact that you would have rather bled to death if he didn't come to your side, not because no one brought you to a hospital, but because no one convinced you to.

“Well, I gotta go home now.” 

You put all your trash in one plastic bag to toss outside on your way and stood up to stretch your back. You keep surprising him. You’re not even scared of walking in the dark. While cracking your spine, you lagged when you caught his eyes staring at you like you were an alien.

“What?”

He shook his head in disbelief. But then he also stood up and pulled his jacket. “Let’s go.” and then he left first. 

It took a moment to realize what he was trying to do. You let him do it because you gotta admit, talking to him amuses you, unexpectedly. And you feel good when you tease him.

“Wait a minute, you’re going to walk me home now? That’s really something.” he ignored you. “Hey, I’m not done talking to you, Vinny.”

“You got stabbed a week ago, you got into a fight tonight. And don’t call it walking you home, it sounds weird.” he grimaced. “I’m not doing this because I want to keep you from harm. I’m doing this to accompany you while you deal with harm.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” you said, obviously unconvinced. “What about your part time job?”

“It’s already late. I can’t come in now or I’ll be nagged.” Just thinking about how the lady manager’s going to beat his ass and nag him for skipping a shift already hurts his ears.

You grinned. “What difference would it make if I get mobbed or we get mobbed together? Do you think you’ll make a difference? What confidence you have.”

Vinny flashed a sinister smirk. “Then at least they’d suffer more by fighting the both of us.” 

You stopped your tracks. If you think about it, apparently Vinny has this subtle… protective instinct. You don’t know if he’s like this to anyone else. Just like when he could’ve left while you were sleeping after you were taken to the hospital, but he stayed true to his words and waited for you to wake up before leaving. Now, this.

He looked back at you with his heavy-lidded eyes that always made him look arrogant. “Well? Lead the way, grumpy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? You have unpredictable mood swings, and unresolved anger issues. It suits you.”

Childish he is, comparing you to one of Snow White’s seven dwarfs. He’s learning to make childish clapbacks. 

You threw an empty bottle at him, which he swiftly dodged. “You talk as if you’re not like that.”

“At least I don’t abruptly switch between being non-verbal and angry.”

You bit your lower lip in annoyance as you restrained yourself from how badly you wanted to smack the back of his head. You almost forgot about his injuries.

“I told you we should’ve gone for the shortcut. Who are those guys, anyway?” Not bringing up how those guys knew you too. From your past.

“Guys I once fought with.”

“Thanks anyway for letting me in your house, without me initiating it.” you said, highlighting the last phrase to make a point. “You’ve done a lot of favors for me. What do you want as a reward? Don’t ask for a girlfriend, I don’t have anyone to string you with.”

He looked straight ahead and breathed. “The charm is enough.”

“Charm? What–oh. That.” You realized what he was talking about. The cat charm. “Cute isn’t it? Looks like you. I didn’t know you liked it.” 

Vinny clicked his tongue. 

“That’s only a trinket, not a reward. You know, like, a promise of ‘I'll-see-you-again-soon-and-I’ll-give-you-something-better.’”

Vinny furrowed his brows, “Why do you think every favor done for you obligates you to give something back in return?”

“Well, that’s how I was raised.”

“Were you raised in chaos too and that’s why you can fight?”

“I only fight people when I need to defend myself.” You kicked a small rock out of the way. “I once initiated a fight with a male classmate but that was three or four years ago, because he was extremely sexist. ‘Kept making comments about what I do.”

The anecdote piqued Vinny’s curiosity of what happened next. “What happened after?”

“Oh, he dropped, transferred to another school, and got home-schooled.” You nonchalantly continued the story.

A moment of silence.

“What did you do?” Vinny looked at you suspiciously.

“What?”

He expectantly waited.

After seconds of a staredown, you were the first one to cave in. “...I accidentally broke four of his ribs,” your voice gradually grew quieter with every word.

Vinny’s expression went like he just heard a crime confession. He knows he's deemed as a savage, but you, you’re also something. Part of him wants to grin because of how normally you told a story of something unhinged.

“Serves him right,” He quipped. That sexist jerk deserved more than just getting his ribs pounded, he thought.

“So, take my offer. Let’s fight each other next time.”

Vinny groaned, “Is this still about Jay? I didn't even know him yet at that time.”

“He got impeached from being Student Body President and he got a suspension. Because of that the workload I have as the Vice doubled because of you, just so you know. I’ll only let it slide now because my body is sore, but I’ll get you back for that.”

You really held a grudge at him for that. For both you and Jay.

“I can walk and take care of myself from here, thanks.” You faced him when you reached the corner to your apartment.

Vinny stopped his steps to look at you. 

“Someone might see you and… tell my mom,” You voiced out even if he didn’t ask.

He opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it again. Another time. He didn’t say another word before turning back to walk in the opposite direction to find his way home.

The corner of your lips rose. “Hey, Vinny!” you shouted while his back was facing you at a distance.

His head panned to you.

“Thanks! I’ll give you back the favor somehow!” You followed while waving your hand. “Let’s fight next time! I’ll wipe the floor with you!”

He rolled his eyes and turned his back again to continue walking. Your mischievous grin impossible to wipe off.

Out of your sight, Vinny kept his genuine amused smile—often mistaken for a maniacal grin—to himself.

***

[laf-outloud]

Looks like Jared has a new campaign with new offerings at Stands!

[lowkeyren]

hi pookies i have caved and created a hsr oc because me n my fellow hunters has been talking abt ocs in the server and i picked up a scrap so now... everyone say hi to lyvia (insert pic here, i'm no artist 😭)

[spoopsmcgoops]

People just be like "I'm such a perfectionist :3" but me? I'm THE IMPERFECTIONIST I ACTIVELY MAKE THINGS SLIGHTLY IMPERFECT TO RUIN YOUR DAY!

You know how you get in your car and try to put on your seat belt but the buckle is backwards so you have to have a fold in the belt?

WELL IT WAS ME! I WAS THE ONE WHO FLIPPED YOUR SEATBELT BUCKLE!

MWAHAHAHAHA

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

Go for it bb. And for a disabled child she was very brilliant. Possibly a saving grace.

Another cryptic poll...

[thesophistiicate]

“It might be tempting to think of willpower-based goalsetting systems as hardheaded and realistic, while dismissing those that leave space for spontaneity – or for just not feeling like it today – as self-indulgent and second-tier. But I think it’s the other way around. Our changing moods and energy levels, and how inspired we’re feeling on any given day, are part of the hard reality we must accept in order to take effective action.”

— Oliver Burkemen, The Imperfectionist newsletter (this one is a must read if you struggle with goal setting and self-discipline - his approach and mindset are very similar to mine)

[positivexcellence]

@jarpad: Remember you don’t have to show up perfect for other people!! It’s about being the version of you that makes YOU happiest.

ALL of you is worth fighting for !!!! 🙏 #AKF #SPNFAMILY #Imperfectionist ShopStands.com

X

[conehwa]

Imperfectionist - A Seonghwa x Reader Fanfic

Summary:

After 2 years of relentless bullying that you’ve had to endure from your upperclassmen, your mom decides to finally take a leap and have you go to a different school.

On the first day of school at Myungshin High School, you meet your new locker neighbor; Park Seonghwa. Charming, beautiful, and nerdy; the Captain of the Dance Club at the school. Your meeting and initial friendship go well, but who could be lurking on the sidelines, attempting to sabotage your closeness to him?

(Extra note: main character / reader is canonically plus size; so there will be a lot of themes covering that!)

(Im aiming for 10 chapters with this, but it’s my first one so bare with me!!

[riikive]

lights camera and action ⌕ 강태현

synopsis. living in a world of imperfectionist and bitterness, when everything around comes with a price or two. everyone will seek anything and everything whether it will be becoming a verison of a perfectionist or a people pleaser or both together as one. No matter what the choices may be, everyone wants to be perfect to satisfy themselves or others around them or all together.

staring. actor!kang taehyun x fem!oc

genre. romance, actor au, model au, hurt/comfort, etc.

status. coming soon

warning. dry humor, suggestive scenes, mental health, traumas, alcohol, neglection, overworking, hospitals, burn-out, saesang, crazy fans, fans, cold/blunt oc & taehyun, people pleaser, emotional abuse, self-harm, eating disorders, getting physical, fighting, attempt murder, threats, kidnapping, harassments, sexual assaults, blood, stereotypes, drama, etc.

I recommend that nobody under 16 years old read this story since there are a lot of tiggers/sensitive topics!

taglist. open (please send an ask to be in the list! ask requests will only be accepted, srry!)

note. I hope you enjoy this series! This will be all written, maybe a little bit of social media/smau here and there, but it will mostly be written. There will be a lot of things going on in this story such as drama and tiggers content. I really want to write a Taehyun actor fanfic because I was looking through tiktok. He will be a good actor same with the rest of the members.

characters . playlist . aesthetics . others . wattpad ver

masterlist

00. tba

01. tba

02. tba

03. tba

04. tba

05. tba

06. tba

07. tba

08. tba

09. tba

10. tba

more chapters coming soon

© 2023 — all rights reserved to user rikive, please do not steal, plagiarise, or translate any of my work without prior permission from me !

[ao3feed-ateez]

Imperfectionist - A Park Seonghwa x Plus Size!Reader Fic

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/qtPklGm by conehwa After 2 years of relentless bullying that you’ve had to endure from your upperclassmen, your mom decides to finally take a leap and have you go to a different school. On the first day of school at Myungshin High School, you meet your new locker neighbor; Park Seonghwa. Charming, beautiful, and nerdy; the Captain of the Dance Club at the school. Your meeting and initial friendship go well, but who could be lurking on the sidelines, attempting to sabotage your closeness to him? (Extra note: main character / reader is canonically plus size; so there will be a lot of themes covering that!) Words: 1759, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English Fandoms: ATEEZ (Band) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M Characters: Park Seonghwa, Reader Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Reader Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Bullying, Violence, Love, Stalking, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/qtPklGm

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 1

part 2

pairing: vinny hong x jo!fem!reader

warnings: SFW, fem!reader, gifted!reader, cursing, mentions of blood & violence, mentions/flashbacks to vinny's shitty childhood. jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), physical descriptions (resemblance to jay, jay's mother, heavily implied asian features) intelligent!reader, female rage, implications of academic pressure, middle child trauma, second person's pov (you, you're, your), ANGSTY, lowkey self-indulgent, SPOILERS everywhere, includes momma bear vinny but then reader is also kind of a momma bear, reader is NOT yumi, but yumi still exists here. lmk if i forgot anyth

note: i can't stop tossing and turning while reading s4 lol this is how i cope. vinny pls come back now im bawling my eyes rn

—

None of the recontres you had with Vinny Hong in the entirety of your life was normal.

Just like the first time you encountered him, when you accidentally bumped into him in a vulnerable state while walking home under a light rain shower after a tiring day volunteering at the hospital your parents were working in. The light pouring rain hit your umbrella with soft thuds as you were finding your way through the alley you accidentally passed by after taking an alternative route, but getting a little lost in the process.

You shuddered when you heard a groan. You immediately looked around and kept your guard up in case it was a kidnapper. But no, it sounded like one of pain. Stopping your tracks and pulling over your feet, you looked around the alley. Your eyes expectantly scanned until your eyes found the source of the grumbling noise. There he was, slumped against the wall.

I knew it, you thought. It was a man. How cliché. His head was bowed down so he couldn't see you. Let me guess, a high school boy was mobbed and injured somewhere and now is left to die in a dark alley to be found lifeless once the sun rises?

You scoffed. If only you had all the time in the world to be a delinquent, that will most likely be where you're meant for. These high school boys are wasting their lives when they unknowingly have the time to choose to be a better person. You discreetly envied how these kinds of people can still choose how they'll live their lives, regardless of presence of sense for separating actions between good and bad.

And so you walked past the alley.

Your steps slowed down as the man groaned again, this time followed by a rustle. A slight pang of guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. Damn it, this wasn't–

You reluctantly looked back to where the man sat. You've always sworn your life you wouldn't meddle in anything that wasn't your business. But for some reason, the guilt of having the ability to help but refusing to, drowned your fixed principle.

Just as you were having an inner banter with yourself, your feet made the decision for you instead and took you to him. You pushed the button on your umbrella to automatically close it, pointing the sharp end to the stranger. You weren't even sure if he's still alive because he suddenly quieted down after that last groan. Only the light from the nearest post gave you an unclear sight of the man and the fluff of his fiery red hair.

One of his hands fell limp on the floor while the other was covering his wound. It seemed like he's been in the same spot for minutes yet the distinct bright colour of fresh blood told you the injury happened not very a while ago. You weren't sure of how to approach him properly, so you lightly kicked his leg once, but he didn't respond. So you kicked him for the second time, this time, harder. Finally, he responded by quietly groaning in pain once again.

“Who… the hell… are you…?” He weakly questioned as looked up to squint and take in your face, but your figure was against the light from the lamp post, so your silhouette was the only thing he's capable of registering. Even when in pain, his voice still sounded atrocious. Like he's someone used to speaking to people harshly. Luckily, you weren't intimidated for a single bit. It'll take a lot more than harsh tones to drive you away. You've been there.

You fumbled inside your tote bag to search for your phone, “Who are you to ask?” When you got ahold of your phone, you turned the flashlight on and you got a clearer view of the blood oozing out of this stranger's side, staining his hand in the process. It looked like a stab wound, judging from the volume of the blood oozing out from the wound.

“As expected.” You raised your hand to point the sharp end of your umbrella to him once again. “I will help you. But if you attempt to do anything funny, I'll stab you on your other side, too.”

Your first option as was to call immediate professional help. As you tried to dial the hospital hotline to call an ambulance, your phone kept indicating there was no service. The signal's jammed. You almost threw your phone to the nearest wall out of frustration as you hit the side of it with your palm. You side-eyed the man behind you.

Shit. Now what? This kind of stab wound is fatal, especially because he already lost plenty of blood beforehand. It wouldn't bleed that much if the penetration wasn't deep. It might have even hit a vital spot. Calling for help now will be difficult because of this deserted alley and the continuous pour of the rain didn't help either, plus, your phone has no service.

“I don't need… your help!” he glared at your silhouette and cursed himself as he shut his eyes tightly while attempting to sit upright, enduring the excruciating pain on his side.

“You're quite obnoxious for a dying man.” You looked around to search for more resources. This is a closed alley. If you leave him here for another minute to find help, he might completely lose his consciousness, he was already limp in the first place. You were left with no choice. Your hand hesitantly reached to fumble around your bag once again until you got an OS, gauze pads and sterilized medical stitching needles.

Your mother would be furious if ever she finds out you stitched a stranger's wounds. You can only imagine her yelling, "Patients are not your playthings and the Medical field is not your playground! Who are you to perform Medical procedures? You're not even a Doctor yet!" Yeah, for sure Dra. Jo wouldn't be so pleased to find out her daughter's attempt to fix someone up. You kneeled and looked at the stranger. You needed to gain his trust as professionally as possible.

“I won't ask your name since you're clearly hard to talk to. I'm [Y/N]. I'm no Guardian angel of yours. I do light voluntary work in hospitals and I have current trainings on how to attend to emergency patients. But I'm still a high school student so I'm not yet licensed. Anyway, going to a hospital will always be the safest option, but I have knowledge about stitching wounds, at least. I'm going to temporarily stitch you up so you don't lose more blood, then we'll get you to a hospital once I find phone service.”

You surveyed his overall state, he looked very pale, although it's easy to tell that he's naturally pale, by losing a lot of blood, he's getting even paler each passing second. You were running out of time.

“Do you consent to this?” You asked him calmly through your glasses.

He breathed out heavily. You knew he was wary and reluctant. Which is understandable. But if it's not you, who else will do it? You heaved a sympathetic sigh. As you unemotionally tell him about the circumstances of his skepticality, that you well acknowledge.

“Hey, you might have a family member waiting for you at home. They would be devastated to just hear from the news that you were found dispatched and lifeless out here in the morning.” you looked around, left and right. Right now, you're the best chance he has if he wants to live. “I won't force your consent out. I haven't touched you anywhere yet and I wouldn't if you don't want me to, so I can just leave you here without me being a potential suspect of your murder. But you should probably think about the ones that didn't know their last sight of you alive was the last they'll get, ever.”

He looks at you for a few seconds while he grits his teeth, before he slowly, lightly nods. Shutting his eyes and removing his hand from covering the wound, implying that he had put his trust in you.

You checked his carotid pulse first. Just as you thought. Erratic and weakened. And then looked over to watch the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders. Shallow breathing. He definitely lost a high volume of blood already. You hastily started disinfecting everything—your hands, the tools, even the gloves. You checked his expression. You gave him a heads-up before lifting the side of his shirt to attend to the wound properly. You began working up and stitching the wound on his right side. You looked at his face once again that's being covered by the shade of the unfinished constructions caging the alley, while going through your first stitch.

“I'm sorry, this is the only option, for now. I'll find more professional help after this.”

He had no more energy left to open his mouth and reply. He grunts in pain while you were busy ushing the needle through-and-through. You asked him to bite down on a cloth while enduring the pain, since you didn't have anesthesia and he can feel every poke of the needle on his skin. You stitched him with precision with your skilled hands. Your hands were painted crimson red during the process.

This wouldn't be your first time stitching. You've done this a couple of times, but only to a simulator. You pulled yourself together as you kept in mind that a person's life is in your hands this time.

While you were focusing on the stitches, all the stranger can muster are croaky groans, as the pain of the wound and the stitches stung, so you tried to do it faster. When you were done, while wiping your blood-stained hands, you noticed how his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was wincing in pain. He tried to look up at you again, but his sight of you was blurry.

“Don't worry, that'll be removed at once when you're taken to the hospital. What I did is only first aid, and you already lost a lot of blood so we still need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.”

You pushed your knees to stand up and find phone signal, but before you can, his hand rose and reached for yours.

“No.” He clutched your hand to stop you. His hand was rough—and also large. You have large hands for a female, but his hand almost completely enveloped yours.

The side of your lips shifted downward while looking down at him. “When I said 'trust me', I only meant temporarily so I can temporarily close your wound. I didn't mean with all your life."

“Just no hospital.”

“You must really want to die.”

He gripped your hand tightly from the severe pain he's enduring. You know how much pain he's going through right now and he didn't mean to do so, so you let him squeeze your hand.

“I would rather die, than pay a hospital bill.” he weakly held on to you, falling completely unconscious as his head fell on your lap. You furrowed your brows and put his head into a more comfortable position.

Oh, so he was serious on dying?

You coming to his rescue definitely doesn't just end with a few stitches.

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2023, don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

always remember to put seeking professional help as top priority if you ever encounter this kinda scenario irl

[laf-outloud]

JaredPadalecki As we wrap up this year's AKF campaign, I want to thank y'all for your tremendous support!!! I appreciate every one of you #Imperfectionists with my whole heart 🙏❤

What a sweetie!

[rhopaper]

I haven't been writing in my journal as much this month, because I'm spending a lot of time typing. Or, as I call it, making pages with my typewriter.

I usually write at least one letter-sized page a day, sometimes two. I try to steer myself away from dismissing my thoughts as “rants” or “ramblings”.

Even though none of these pages would likely go anywhere, they are a perfectly imperfect snapshot of who I am at this moment.

Typewriter records every keystroke on paper, jammed keys and typos all. It's an imperfectionist’s ideal instrument.

[minanimals]

Tia Kratter, Imperfectionist

[welovejarepad]

jarpad Remember you don't have to show up perfect for other people!! It's about being the version of you that makes YOU happiest. ALL of you is worth fighting for !!!! #AKF #SPNFAMILY #Imperfectionist ShopStands.com