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modernmagdalene · 3 years ago

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Saint and Crystal Associations Part 2

Once again, I’m posting this as a potential resource for other Christian witches or Christian mystics (whatever you call yourself). These are my own personal associations, not official associations of any Christian denominations, so if they don’t feel right for you feel free to use different crystals with different saints. Thanks and enjoy.

Saint Francis of Assisi --> Amber

Francis is best associated with Amber. While not technically a crystal it still is used in a lot of crystal magic. Francis is a very complex saint who helps with a lot of different things: voluntary poverty, helping the poor, antiwar, and oneness with nature. Amber is very old and connected deeply to the earth. It helps with grounding, clarity, patience, wisdom, dissolves negativity, eliminates fear, and balances emotions. All things Francis needed to leave his life of privilege behind and follow God. I think it represents much of who Francis is and can help support the same virtues that Francis represents.

Saint Brigid --> Opal

St. Brigid would be associated with Opal. Brigid is a saint that is very connected to the goddess Brigid. Their stories are extremely intertwined that you can’t really talk about without the other. Both are connected to fire, love, and hope and that’s all things Opal is connected with as well. I also personally tend to associate Opal with the divine feminine and Brigid connection to a goddess makes that work as well.

Saint Julian of Norwich --> Moonstone

Julian of Norwich I said in a comment that I associated with Lapis Lazuli but then relaized I was already using that crystal with St. Perpetua and Felicity. So I did some more research and decided that Moonstone would work really well for Saint Julian of Norwich. Moonstone is obviously associated with Lunar magick and the moon is also regularly associated with femimine energy. Which works wonders with St. Julian who often depicted God as femimine. One of the things that made her contraversal. St. Julian of Norwich had visions and was a prolific writer. Moonstone helps those seeking wisdom and strengthens psychic abilities. St. Julian of Norwich is also a known cat lover so have moonstone carved into the shape of a cat is even better.

Saint Mary MacKillop --> Obsidian

(Trigger Warning Mentions of sexual abuse in this.)

Mary MacKillop is the first saint of Australia and one of my favorites! Mary MacKillop reported a priest who was abusing children and not longer after a friend of this priest used his connections to get her excommunicated. Her excommunication was eventually lifted. I have always admired her strength and resilience. That’s why I chose obsidian for her. Obsidian shines a light on the negativity and clears it away, helping us to choose the path leading towards light and love. It is also a protective stone as it used to be used for weapons. If you need to fight the devil obsidian is up there with tourmaline as an excellent crystal to clean house.

Saint Raphael the Archangel --> Ametrine

St. Raphael the Archangel is another favorite of mine. If you use a Protestant Bible you might not have read about him. Raphael is featured in the Book of Tobit which is only in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles. The Book of Tobit is an epic love story between Tobias and Sarah that also features thievery, exile, and fights with demons. Where Michael and Gabriel tend to appear to humans briefly then leave. Raphael, disguised as a human, travels with Tobias throughout the whole book. Raphael is most associated with healing and I connect him to the crystal ametrine. Ametrine is associated with healing, harmony, strength, balancing physical and spiritual life, and aids in contacting spirit guides. This works with Raphael’s connections to healing. Furthermore, Raphael’s role guiding Tobit and being a spiritual being working on earth makes ametrine perfect in helping to connect with him. Use this stone and ask him to help find balance in your practice and assist you with finding spiritual guides.

Saint Rita --> Smoky Quartz

St. Rita is the patron saint of impossible tasks. She is someone I rely on when I really need to overcome an obstacle or problem in my life. She is also prayed to when someone has a deadly illness or serious problem helping with things that seem impossible to deal with is just her jam. Because of this I associate her most with smoky quartz. This crystal is super powerful and is a great grounding and balancing stone. It absorbs negative energy like a sponge (because of this it should be cleansed often-ish use your best judgement). It’s so useful and can even cleanse other crystals. It keeps all the negativity away from you which is something that one really needs when dealing with impossible situations.

Saint Mary Magdalene --> Celestite

Mary Magdalene is one of my favorite witchy women in the Bible. She wasn’t scared away like the other disciples when Christ was crucified, she was the first to preach about the resurrection, and was active in preaching and teaching others about Christ. One of my favorite stories about her comes from the Orthodox tradition where she was preaching to Emperor Tiberius Caesar about Christ and turned an egg red to prove to the emperor that Christ’s story and power was true. I associate Mary Magdalene most with Celestite. Celestite raises spiritual vibrations, promotes spiritual growth, and aides in communication with the spiritual realm. This crystal also boosts self-worth and self-expression, all things Mary Magdalene had in abundance. Mary Magdalene also seems to be the most connected to the spiritual world out of all the apostles (with the exception of maybe John) so this crystal is perfect for her.

Saint Joan of Arc --> Bloodstone

St. Joan is a warrior and protector. I also consider her a trans and/or genderfluid saint who will naturally protect trans and genderfluid peoples. Because of this I associate her most with bloodstone. Bloodstone promotes justice and strength, it is also good for healing and renewal, but bloodstone is probably best known for boosting spells and banishing spirits. Or as I prefer to use it, boosting protection spells and banishing TERFs.

Saint Francis de Sales --> Kyanite

St. Francis de Sales is one of my favorite saints purely because he is the patron saint of writers and I am someone who greatly enjoys writing. Kyanite is the crystal I use with this saint. It promotes creativity and also dispels negativity aka those negative thoughts that tell you that you can’t write. It’s also supposed to sharpen your focus which can be especially helpful with writing or any creative work, especially if you are easily distracted like me.

Saint Anthony of Padua --> Amazonite

St. Anthony was one of my grandmother’s favorite saints and probably the saint I use the most in day to day life. He is the patron saint of lost items. He was a devout priest and taught students from a book of psalms. He once tried to preach to people who refused to listen to him. He instead decided to preach to the fish who all started to gather near the shore to listen to him. When people saw this they decided they should listen too. So you know when in doubt preach to fish I guess. Anyway, I associate St. Anthony with amazonite. Amazonite helps sharpen the mind, aids communication and promotes good luck all of which are great attributes for learning and teaching, finding lost items (that’s the good luck bit), and aiding communication could help you talk to people or fish, your call.

Saint Valentine --> Rose Quartz

St. Valentine did a lot but he is most associated today with marrying couples in the Christian church during the height of Roman persecution. So naturally I associate him with rose quartz, a crystal that promotes love and fertility, dispels loneliness, opens the heart to compassion, and even strengthens faith. The perfect stone for this romantic saint.

Saint Scholastica --> Citrine

St. Scholastica was the twin sister of St. Benedict, and was the founder of the women’s benedictine order. As someone who went to a benedictine college I have a fondness for her. If you are a storm witch in particular I think this might be the saint for you. At one point Benedict and his monks visit Scholastica and her nuns. Scholastica didn’t think she would live long enough to see her brother again after this meeting so begged him to stay the night, but Benedict didn’t want to spend the night outside his monastery and told her he couldn’t. So Scholastica prayed and a massive thunderstorm suddenly came making it unsafe for Benedict and his monks to travel. And here is my favorite bit:

“Realizing what had happened, Benedict reproached her: "What have you done, my sister?” Scholastica answered simply, "I asked a favor of you, and you refused to listen to me. So I asked my God, and He, more generous than you, granted my request.” Once again Scholastica’s pleas won the favor she was seeking.”

With Scholastica I associate the crystal citrine. Citrine is all about manifesting change, protection, creativity, and success all things she needed to live the life she did.

Saint Dymphna --> Blue Lace Agate

St. Dymphna is one of my favorite saints and she is one I utilize often. She is most associated with mental and emotional illnesses. If you are a spoonie witch this is the saint for you. Because of this I associate her most with Blue Lace Agate, which helps people express themselves (helpful when going to therapy or a doctor) and also helps with dealing with any sorts of fears or anxiety. (Reminder: That utilizing this saint and crystal is meant as a prayerful way to ask for help dealing with mental and emotional illness. It is not a replacement for therapy or meds.)

St. Sara-la-Kali --> Jasper

St. Sara-la-Kali is the patroness of the Romani people. She is said to have helped the Three Marys of the Bible arrive safely in Gaul after she had a vision of them arriving. She used her dress as a raft and helped the women get to shore despite the tumultuous waves. She was also extremely generous and often collected alms for the poor. I associate her most with jasper. A crystal native to Romania it aids in peace and wisdom and also is particularly helpful during times of transition by providing stability and protection. It also supports perseverance and acceptance, something we definitely need Sara's help with right now.

#christian witch #catholic witch #christian mysticism #crystals #saints #crystal witch #witchcraft

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scuttle-buttle · 4 years ago

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Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

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#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle #tw self harm #tw suicude #tw child abuse

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justmypartner · 3 years ago

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Still Breathing: Chapter 6

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hi!! Oh man am I excited about this chapter. It’s sweet and flirty, but also pretty angsty, so you’re welcome and I’m sorry? I’ve hit a good spot with writing this story, so I will probably be posting more often. I still can’t promise weekly updates, but I will do my best. Thank you so much for the kind words on this story. It truly means a lot. I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 or below

“Hailey?”

“Hello?”

It wasn’t until a coffee cup was being raised in front of her face that she pulled out of her absent stare.

“Sorry,” she shook her head, blinking her eyes back into focus. “Thank you,” she said, forcing a smile as she reached out to grab the cup.

Everything had been a blur since that last dance with Jay the night before. When the song ended and she finally worked up the nerve to pull away from him, she desperately tried to swallow down her emotions with the rest of the bottle of wine. Not long after, when she couldn’t get her mind to shut off, she told him she was beat and asked him to drive her home.

She then spent the rest of the night stuck in that moment in his arms, debating whether or not she was falling in love with him, or the moment. Then, every time she closed her eyes she saw his beautiful emerald eyes and his infectious smile and she knew the question was rhetorical.

She woke the next morning with a text from him asking to meet at what had become their coffee shop. She had the weekend off. She knew he knew that, so she had no real excuse to blow him off. So, she compartmentalized everything that happened the night before and agreed to meet him there.

“You okay? You seem off this morning,” he posited, taking a sip as he eyed her from the opposite end of the table.

There he was reading her like a book, the way only he seemed to be able to do.

“Yeah, no matter how much red wine I have, I always feel it the next morning,” she lied, taking a large swig of her coffee as he nodded, eyeing her carefully as she did so.

“Sorry,” he offered, the slight pout on his face expressing his empathy.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly.

“So, I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to run something by you.”

“Okay…” she said, a resistance in her voice.

“How would you feel about sneaking into a college party with me tonight?”

“Why on Earth would we do that?” she breathed out a laugh with the question.

“I’ve never been. It’s on my list.”

“You’ve never been to a college party before?”

“Nope. I enlisted right out of high school, then my active duty filled the education requirement for the academy. Never even stepped foot on a college campus until I was a cop and needed to for a case,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re not missing much. I only went to maybe one party in my undergrad years, wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Yeah well, my brother spent all of his college years partying. Figured I ought to see what the hype was all about. I was waiting for fall to come around so I could blend in with of all the incoming students, but I only want to go if you agree to come with me.”

“Fine, but only because it’s on your list… You’re going to have to do something about this look though,” she said, waving a hand in front of her as she gestured to his outfit.

“My look? What about you? You’re the one who dresses like a cop.”

She scoffed, taking one of the sugar packets on the table and flinging it in his direction. He flinched, a sneaky grin on his face as he laughed at his own joke.

“I can still wear my hat, right?” he asked once the laughter died down, a serious look overcoming his face.

“Yeah. I actually think I still have a U of C one you can borrow.”

“Cool.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a hat.”

“You don’t want to. The chemo has thinned my hair out so much. I just haven’t had the courage to shave it all off yet.”

A sad look overcame her face, and she quickly adjusted it when she noticed his eyes dart away timidly.

“Actually, I have been wondering since we met, are you a brunette or a red head?” she questioned, trying to divert the mood.

“Oh, that’s a surprise.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his now intentional pattern of aloofness.

“One day, I’m going to be the one to surprise you.”

He gave her a disbelieving nod as he brought his cup to his mouth, concealing the smile she knew was breaking out across his lips.

— — — —

Later that evening when she had just finished clasping the back of her last earring, there was a knock at the door. She made her way downstairs, hurrying to answer it.

Jay stood on her doorstep in a maroon button up, dark jeans, and his usual ball cap. In the time she’d known him, it was always t-shirts and henleys, so to see him more dressed up had her heart racing in an entirely new way.

As distracted as she was by his appearance, it didn’t stop her from noticing the way his eyes trailed up and down her body. She wore black jeans, black leather boots, and a silky blue tank that cut a little low. It certainly wasn’t her typical attire, but she knew it was basic enough of a look to blend in with every other college girl at whatever party they wound up at.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his mouth falling slightly agape as he seemed to force his eyes to train on hers.

“Wow yourself,” she told him, stepping aside so that he could come in.

Once the door was closed, they stood before one another in her foyer, both still silently gawking at one another for a minute longer.

“So, what do you think? Do I look like I should be at a college party?” he asked after clearing his throat, holding his arms out as he sought her approval.

She pursed her lips to the side as she eyed him up and down, taking a little more time to do so since he had granted her his permission.

“I don’t know I feel like it just needs-“

Her eyes fell to the top of his shirt where the top button was secured. She stepped forward, her hands moving to unbutton it and expose a little more of his chest. Her breath became shallow with the proximity. She pulled the collar out a little more once the button was popped. Doing so exposed a gold chain she’d never noticed before, one with a small medallion attached that rested in the contour of his chest. She noticed the way his jaw tightened as her fingers brushed his skin when she picked it up to inspect it further. She rubbed a thumb over it in her hand, an inquisitive look on her face as she did so.

“Do you always wear this? I’ve never noticed it before.”

“It’s my brother’s. He gave it to me a few weeks ago. It’s St. Luke, the patron saint of doctors and surgeons. My mom gave it to him when he first told her he wanted to be a doctor. He thinks it’ll somehow help me, I’m not so convinced, but it reminds me of her so I wear it,” he explained, only his mouth moving as she still inspected the small medallion in her hand. She smiled, releasing it as she took a step back, folding her arms over her chest.

“You know, the more I learn about your brother, the more I think I might like him more than you,” she told him smugly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he spat, squinting his eyes at her jokingly.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me go get your hat.”

She momentarily disappeared upstairs, pulling the hat from her closet before descending the stairs once more.

“Here,” she told him. He grabbed it, holding it in his hand as he peered over at her with a look of patience.

“Right, um let me get my things and we can head out,” she said, turning around to grant him the moment he was silently asking for. When she came back, his hat was swapped out and he wore a shy look on his face.

“Thanks,” he told her, and she knew it wasn’t just gratitude for the hat.

— — — —

Even a block down the street from the house they could hear the music and voices of a hundred or so college kids. It was enough to send shudders down Hailey’s spine, a reminder of why her first college party was also her last.

“You sure you wanna do this? Can’t we just go get plastered at a bar and call it a night,” she offered, looking up at him in the dim light of the street.

The look he sent her was one of both amusement and certainty, and she knew his decision on the night’s plans was unwavering.

“Fine, but you’re my designated driver. The only way I’m getting through this is with booze running through my veins,” she sang.

“I didn’t plan on drinking anyway.”

The comment was enough to stop her in her tracks. She sent him a look, silently questioning the statement as a smirk grew on his face.

“I mean I’m going to have a beer or something, but I’m not supposed to get hammered or anything. I’ve already got enough chemicals in my body trying to kill me.”

She nodded, and they continued their slow pace towards the house. Another reminder of what seemed like many lately that he was living on numbered days. She just wasn’t sure what that number was. Her face fell, and she focused her attention on each step she was taking, trying to pull herself out of the instant sullen mood she’d fallen into.

“Alcoholic,” he mumbled under his breath, causing her to kick at him playfully with the tease. It was just what she needed to smile again, but not quite enough to keep that reminder from plaguing her thoughts.

Once inside, they were met with the overwhelming smell of beer, musk, and weed.

“How many of these kids do you think are underage?” he whisper yelled into her ear as they brushed through the crowd blocking the entrance.

“All of them,” she returned, shaking her head at the thought of a time when she was one of the many carefree kids they were surrounded by.

They found the drink table. Jay went for a can of cheap beer and Hailey poured herself a couple of shots of tequila. The smitten look and prideful smile he gave as he watched her down the first two were enough to make her do a third. It was going to be a long night with him looking the way he did, let alone with him looking at her like that. She knew she needed to be loosened up to get through it.

By her fourth shot she was in the middle of a crowd of people, her hips doing most of the work as she danced to whatever song was playing through the speakers. Jay opted out, claiming he was much more a slow dancer than a party dancer.

She’d been alone for a while, a couple of young guys dancing alongside her before getting the cold shoulder and moving on. Even when the guys approached, it didn’t stop Jay’s eyes from keeping a determined stare. She pretended she didn’t notice, but he kept a watchful eye as she swayed to the rhythm of the absurdly loud music.

About an hour had passed. Hailey watched as Jay broke his stare, moving to play a few rounds of beer pong. She laughed when she watched him swap his beer for soda water when the other guys weren’t looking. Not that it mattered considering how good he was at the game. Hailey had kept her eye on him every so often as she danced with various groups of soured sorority girls.

Eventually, the strands of hair by her face were stuck on with sweat, and she had lost sight of Jay for about 15 minutes. When she finally found him again, he was leaned against a wall, some young college girl standing only inches away from him, hung on his every word.

She blamed it on the booze, but it sent a heat rising in her. She couldn’t blame the girl, he looked damn good, but she couldn’t help but envy how oblivious the girl was to what it meant to be close to him.

She watched from the other side of the party, the low light seeming to only shine on the two of them in that large room of people. Her jaw was clenched and she thought about going over and pulling him away, being close to him in a way that had been stuck in her mind since the night before.

She then watched as he said something that sent the girl running, and a smile came across her face. She made her way over to him, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.

“You must really know how to sweet talk a girl,” she teased, practically having to scream over the noise.

“You would know,” he said it in a way that caused her cheeks to become even warmer than they already were.

“What’d you tell her?”

“She asked if I would go to her um… what’d she call it? Formal or something? She said it was some sorority thing. I told her I couldn’t because I have chemo that day. She thought I was kidding and then, well you saw the rest,” he chuckled, both of them looking over Hailey’s shoulder as the girl found some other guy to mingle with.

“You look like you’ve had fun,” he told her, instinctively bringing a hand to brush the slightly damp waves out of her face. “Why don’t we go outside for some cool air?” he offered. She nodded, grabbing a bottle of water on her way out.

The backyard was unexpectedly empty. It was a charming little courtyard with a few tiki torches keeping it dimly lit, and a big porch swing hanging from the large tree in the corner. Hailey made her way over, plopping down on the swing less than gracefully as she opened the water, her weak attempt at sobering up a bit.

“What do you think of your first college party?” she asked him as she tried to settle herself onto the swing.

“Overrated,” he said simply.

“Told you,” she returned, swallowing down a large gulp of the water.

“I kinda like seeing you like this,” he told her, laughing at the way her short legs swung back and forth to move the swing.

“I kinda like seeing you in general,” the words came out before she could fully process, and she squinted her eyes closed tightly, cringing at how forward her boozed up brain was making her.

He leaned against a tree across from her, crossing his arms as he snickered at her words. She laughed too, shaking her head as she took another pull from the water. He brought one of his hands up to readjust his hat as he watched her. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. The pop of his collar, the way his eyes were still so vibrant in the low light. He was a sight to be seen, but it seemed like every time she looked at him like that lately, it only reminded her just how short her time with him could be.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or maybe it was that thing that the shooting awoke in her, but she felt like she needed to tell him how she felt. No matter how much time they had left. Then her brain dwelled on that. Time. What did his prognosis look like? She’d never asked him. Never had the courage to ask him. But in that moment? Hammered Hailey was just about ready to ask, do, and say anything.

“How much time do we have left?” she broke after a few moments of being lost in her jumbled, tequila ridden thoughts.

“If you’re ready we can go if you want. We don’t have to sta-“

“No. I mean how much time do we have left,” she repeated, her eyes glossing over in a way that made the sight before her look like the view through a rain coated window.

His face was twisted in confusion, then it softened as he realized what she meant, and dropped immediately into a pain inducing look of sorrow. He walked over, grabbing the swing to stop it from moving before falling down next to her. He let out a sigh, bringing an arm to rest on the bench behind her back as she felt him looking over at her. She sniffled, fidgeting with the bottle in her hands before she brought her eyes to meet his.

“Why now? Why wait until now to want to know that?” he asked, the words coming out benignly.

“Because I want to tell you something, and if I’m going to tell you, I need to know first.”

“If I tell you, will the answer change your mind about whatever it is?”

“Maybe,” he kept his eyes on her, somehow knowing she wasn’t being truthful, somehow pulling the truth out of her with one look. “No,” she looked down into her lap, took a breath, and reset their gaze. “I just need to know.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes moving to stare straight ahead as she kept hers on him.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, taking a beat before continuing. “If this chemo does what it’s supposed to do, if it shrinks the tumor enough, I have surgery, go a few more rounds of chemo, and I could be in the clear. If it doesn’t? Things only get worse, and… I don’t know exactly how long, but the doctors give me a 30% chance of 5 more years.”

Silence fell upon them. Her gaze pulled away from him. They both looked straight ahead, not even daring to look at one another as Hailey let the news simmer. There was a pain in the back of her throat as she tried to hold back the sadness that plagued her body. It was a heaviness that started in her chest, extended up into her head, and burned the back of her eyes with a pain she hadn’t experienced before. She pinched at her temples with one hand as she kept the tears from streaming down her face. The only sound that surrounded them was the loud bass and indistinct voices coming from inside the house.

“Change your mind?” he finally asked. She could tell he’d turned his head back to face her, but she couldn’t find it in her to look back.

She shook her head, her stare still avoiding him as she closed her eyes. The tears that had built up spilled out and rolled down her cheeks. She groaned, those tears falling down hopelessly despite her best intentions.

“Are you going to tell me?” he asked, his voice was hopeful and quiet, and it only broke her heart even more.

She shook her head again, sniffling as she wiped the tears away.

“It’s a surprise,” she eventually told him, her voice raspy. She finally turned to face him, forcing a smile through her hurt as she jumped from the swing.

“Hailey-“

“I think I am ready to go home,” she told him, resting a hand on his knee briefly before making her way around the house and out to the street, not even glancing back to see if he was following her.

The ride home was quiet. His eyes kept tied to the road, and hers roamed out the passenger window. The same magnetic like force that seemed to always pull them together was somehow pushing them away in that moment. She finished the rest of her water. It wasn’t enough to sober her up completely, but she wasn’t quite as foggy as she’d been back at the party.

When he pulled up outside of her place, he told her a short and quiet goodnight as she hopped out. She returned his farewell, flashing him a fake smile as she closed the door and headed up towards her place.

She walked up to her stoop, trying to focus on her steps to keep from stumbling over. She was still somewhat drunk, but she was also just overwhelmed by the emotions weighing her down. Her brain kept replaying what he said. A 30% chance of 5 more years with him, or an unknown chance of a lifetime. The idea of each scared her for different reasons, but there was only one that seemed impossible to accept.

There was the sound of a door shutting behind her, and she spun around. Her face fell into a frown as she saw him jogging towards her. He got dizzy just from standing, the last thing he needed to be doing was running after her.

“Jay, woah,” she called out, reaching her arms out towards him when he was close enough to touch.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured through winded breaths.

“Did you forget something or-“

“Look, I don’t know what you were going to tell me earlier, but I have something I need to tell you,” he interrupted, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to restabilize his breath.

She looked up at him, a blend of confusion and expectation on her face. His head was tilted toward the ground, and she could just make out his eyes from underneath the brim of his hat. They were glossed over and they avoided hers as he seemed to prepare whatever it was he had to say.

“I don’t know how much time I have left. That’s my truth, and it’s scary and frustrating, and probably a little unfair, but every time I think about it, all I can think about is how I want to spend every minute of whatever it is with you. It sounds crazy because we haven’t even known each other that long, but… there’s something here. It’s something I’ve known for a few weeks now, but if I’m being honest it’s something I knew somewhere in my mind from the moment I stepped on that damn elevator,” he said it with a sense of urgency and passion that broke her heart in an entirely new way that night.

That pain of holding back her tears returned as the words cut straight to her heart. Then he reached out and wrapped his hand around her forearm, allowing it to slowly slide down until it was grasping her hand in his. She shuddered at the touch. At the electricity that seemed to jolt through her body with his fingers against her skin. There was a reluctant and almost fearful look on his face as he did so, and she just squeezed his hand back, allowing him to know it was okay. He then grabbed their joined hands with his other, stepping forward as he brought them to rest on his chest.

“Hailey, I need to tell you this, and I hope it doesn’t scare you off I just...” he cut himself off, his eyes falling to the ground once more. He inhaled sharply, bringing his eyes back up to hers and peering into them with the same desperation and fire she carried in hers.

His mouth parted and the words left his mouth as if time had slowed down. It was one sentence, six simple words, but she could have sworn the world stopped spinning when he said them.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

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Imagine: Being friends with Alice and asking Carlisle for help on your chemistry homework

Characters: Cullen family, female reader

Rating: G

Word count: 2120

Warnings: None

Request by anon: Wait, omg I’m so happy I found a blog that’s updated recently and I’m definitely gonna ✨stalk✨ your blog and read all your writing after hw but if you’re still doing requests, I thought of something that I would just love to see written. And this could be short or something, y’know? It can be whatever you want it to be, but what if the reader is somewhat friends with the Cullens? Reader (maybe like 20 years old?) is invited to their house one weekend after bumping into Alice and becoming friends and from passing conversation, reader knows that Carlisle is a doctor so she asks him if he could help her with her organic chemistry hw cause she’s studying to be a med student?

A/n Wow I’m so sorry this took me so long! It’s such a cute request and I loved writing it! Thanks for sending it in and for being patient with me :)

Shoot.

Mentally, I groan, stopping my progress towards my car.

I still have chem homework.

I fiddle with the keys in my hand, contemplating. You could go home…lay in bed…maybe with a pint of ice cream…and pass out in a stress and sugar-induced coma.

Oh, how tempting.

But then I remind myself of why I’m putting myself through the hell that is a STEM degree, and turn on my heel, heading back to campus. I know I won’t get any work done if I go home, so the library it is! Thank goodness it’s open twenty-four hours, because it’s creeping up to eleven and I don’t have the heart to return to one of the academic buildings.

Seeing as it’s Friday night, the library isn’t crowded. Still, I push past all the tables on the first floor and head up to my favorite spot on the second. Settling in at my favorite partially secluded table, I pull out my organic chemistry textbook, pop in my earbuds, and get to work.

{***}

A small, pale hand skims over the table near my book, and I look up with a start.

Alice Cullen stands by my desk, clutching a set of books that look too heavy for her thin arms, but she seems to be managing fine. She and I met during the first week of classes, and have been tentative friends ever since. We don’t see much of each other, given our varying degree programs, but she always greets me with a friendly smile and an offer to join her to study. I pull out my headphones, and give her a tired smile. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good!” She smiles excitedly, somehow keeping her energy levels at—I check the time on my phone—1:12 am! “Have you been here for long?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of the late hour on my shoulders. “Since around eleven. I was going home but then I forgot I have o-chem homework. I don’t think it should be taking me this long, but I’m struggling. Thankfully only half of it is due in the morning. The rest isn’t due until after the weekend.”

Alice peers over to look at my book and the problems I work through in my notebook. “Oh, those do look hard. But you know, my dad is a doctor, and he probably knows this stuff like the back of his hand. He’d be more than happy to help you.”

I blanch. An invitation to the Cullen’s house? And free help on o-chem homework?

But then I remember my manners. “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t—”

“Please,” she squeaks, balancing her books in one arm and using the other to retrieve her phone. “We’d be happy to have you over! I’ll let my family know. Does tomorrow around lunchtime work?”

“Uh,” I swallow, not sure I’m believing my ears. “That works great, thank you! I can bring the food?”

She shakes her head, waving off the offer. “Don’t worry about it—Mom loves to cook and will be excited to really use the kitchen. Oh! And there’s this new series my sisters and I have been dying to watch. It’s called Broadchurch. Have you heard of it? Maybe we can start it and see if it’s any good!”

I nod dumbly, too tired and relieved for the help to refuse again. “That sounds fun! Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiles, shrugging like it’s nothing. “What are friends for?”

My smile softens. She considers us friends. “Do you want to walk out together? It’s pretty late.”

She beams and waits while I collect my stuff.

{***}

I pull up to the front of the massive house.

Alice is waiting for me on the porch. She waves excitedly, and I notice her fiancé standing near the door, looking uncomfortable. I stifle a chuckle. It’s well-known that Jasper, introvert in every sense of the word, fell hard for Alice who is the embodiment of an extravert. I wave, grabbing my backpack and stepping out of the car.

“Welcome,” Alice practically shouts. Jasper gives me a polite nod.

I smile at the two of them, calling out my hello’s and climbing the stairs to the porch. The second Jasper opens the door, I’m greeted by the warm smile of Esme Cullen.

“Hello, Y/n, welcome to our home! We are so happy to have you here.” She extends a warm smile, one I can’t help but return immediately.

Alice leads us straight to the living room, where two of her adoptive siblings, Emmett and Rosalie, lounge. Rosalie sketches something I can’t see, and Emmett yells loudly at the TV, losing at a video game.

“Beat it, Emmett,” Alice chirps, dancing over and taking the controller from his hands. “We’re going to watch Broadchurch.”

Putting his frustration at the game aside, Emmett grins, standing and ruffling Alice’s hair. “Alright, I was getting my ass kicked anyway. Hey, Y/n, good to see you again.”

I return his greeting, familiar with Emmett from an intro to theatre class we had together last semester. The image of his interpretation of Juliet for our final project comes to mind, and I have to stifle a laugh. Emmett goes to leave the room, pulling Jasper with him.

“Send Bella down, would you,” Alice calls after them, already settling on the couch. “Rose, you know Y/n, right?”

Rosalie looks up from her sketching. She smiles briefly at me, then returns to her task. I sit awkwardly next to Alice, waiting for Bella so we can start the show.

“There aren’t many women in STEM.”

My head shoots up, wide eyes turning in Rosalie’s direction. She doesn’t look up from her work, but I know she’s addressing me—Alice is studying fashion merchandising and design.

“Y-yeah,” I stammer. Alice’s older sister is just so intimidating. Well-spoken, obviously intelligent, tall, prettier than anyone I’ve ever met, and top of her law class. She’s not exactly warm either, like her mother or sister—even now, there’s a cold bite to her tone. But the edges of her lips quirk up, and I can tell she’s being nice.

“Don’t let the guys push you around. What you’re doing is important, and you’re probably smarter than them. What do you want to do with your degree?”

The answer, always on my heart and mind, is automatic. “I want to be a doctor. So, med school is next.”

She nods once. “Good.”

And apparently that’s the end of our conversation.

I try to hide my smile by rummaging around in my backpack for my water bottle. It’s nice to feel supported.

Bella comes gliding down the stairs and twists into the living room, folding herself easily onto the love seat. She greets me, and then tosses me the throw over the back of her couch. Alice nods as if forgetting something, then reaches into a basket hidden between our couch and Rosalie’s chair and produces three more blankets, throwing two to her sisters and keeping one for herself. She shoots me a grin as each of us, even the serious Rosalie, snuggles up.

Alice stands, turning off the lights and then wraps back in her blanket and scoots near me on the couch. “I hope this is good!” With a grin, she opens Netflix and plays the first episode.

{***}

Broadchurch does not disappoint. Before I know it, we’re halfway through the second episode, eyes glued to the screen. Bella, who was definitely reading a book under her blanket at the start, has put it to the side, leaning forward and watching the show intently.

The front door creaks, then clicks closed, and Alice smiles, pressing pause on the remote. “Dad’s home.”

Before long, the famed local doctor comes in to say hi to the girls and to greet me. He’s just as welcoming as his wife!

“Alice told me you are having trouble with some organic chemistry homework?”

I nod, hoping it’s not too much to ask for his help. “I got a good start on some of the problems last night, but I keep messing up. I’m not really sure where I’m going wrong—there’s no answer key so I can’t work backwards through the problems.”

He nods, casually resting his hands in the pocket of his slacks. “I remember o-chem homework quite well.” He grins conspiratorially. “It is the bane of many a med student’s existence. Why don’t you girls finish up your episode and then join Esme and me in the kitchen for lunch? I can take a look at your homework if you like.”

Relief washes over me. “That would be great, thank you so much.”

He smiles warmly. “Of course. Now, if you all will excuse me….” With a twinkle in his eye, he leaves us to rejoin his wife.

This family is so nice! I wonder why they get so much flack at school?

Alice resumes the episode, and soon my musings are washed away as I try to piece together the mystery of the murder before the detectives can.

{***}

Esme is a wonderful cook. Carlisle sings her praises but doesn’t fix a plate for himself, saying he ate plenty as she was cooking. We all sit down at the table, though I’m the only one who eats in earnest — Bella claims to be filled up on snacks, Rose says she’s on a diet, and Alice takes a small helping for herself, every now and then poking the chicken in mild disgust. I don’t see what the problem is, the food is fantastic!

Carlisle sits down next to me, and I slide my textbook and notebook in his direction. He smiles, looking almost nostalgic. “I remember these. The good news is, as a doctor, you won’t be doing much of this in day-to-day life, if at all. But it is important for some courses you will take in medical school, so it’s best to master the concepts now. See, on number nineteen, you start the problem correctly, but get lost once you have to balance the equation to continue. Instead of waiting until the middle to balance, I would do that first, that way, you have a solid base before moving on to solve the rest of the problem.”

I nod, peering over at the paper intently. I hadn’t tried that strategy before.

Carlisle takes out a pen, and begins scratching out an equation. Then, he grins, shaking his head, and crosses it out, starting again in much neater handwriting. “Forgive my penmanship. Though, if you decide to continue and become a practicing doctor, your handwriting will soon be indecipherable, too.”

From across the table, Rosalie snorts, and I can’t help but laugh along. It seems almost a rite of passage for a doctor to have horrendous handwriting.

In clearer script, Carlisle continues working out the problem, then slides the paper over for me to see. He explains what he did at each step, and I nod along, trying to commit as much of it to memory as possible. He works out another problem in the same way, then asks me to try on my own. I smile tentatively as I go, hesitant to accept that I actually know how to do the problem now.

But I do.

It takes concentration to work through the steps, but I can, which is a far cry from where I was last night. Carlisle waves off my thanks, saying I just needed to try a different approach, but I had it within me all along. I bring up another section I had issues with—structures of the elements—and Carlisle teaches me a better strategy for memorizing a few and then figuring out the rest. By the time Esme and Bella have put the food away, my homework is done—in a fourth of the time it would have taken me struggling through it on my own.

“Seriously, Dr. Cullen, thank you so much.”

He smiles pleasantly, handing me back my textbook. “Of course. If you need help again, just come on over. I know the girls love having the company, and my wife and I enjoyed the opportunity to meet you as well.”

Esme appears behind her husband, laying her hands affectionately on his shoulders. “Absolutely, Y/n. Please come over any time.”

I pack up my homework and thank them once again for lunch and for the help. Alice darts to my side, grinning. “Ready to finish the episode?”

I feel so much lighter now that my homework is done, and I don’t feel guilty at all for spending time with my new friends. In fact, I may even indulge in that ice cream when I get home.

“Absolutely.”

A/n Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, here’s the link to my masterlist :)

#twilight #twilight renaissance #platonic twilight #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #jasper cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #esme cullen #bella cullen #twilight imagine #carlisle imagine #alice imagine

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cosmictulips · 3 years ago

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Feedback

Hii there! I'm glad that I did the game ryt lol

But love why everything u explained is looking like my real life story‽lmao

Ok with the therapy part, my frnds does call me their therapist frnd. It feels like my advices works as therapy in their life. I almost feel like ELSA lol but it does reminds me of a scene from a Pokemon where May did the snowflake show with her Pokemon hehe. I'd loveee helping people n making them happy by doing this forsho- ok! Travelling nurse 😳 I'm a med student, on my way to pursue my doctor degree. The most shocking thing here is that I hv felt this way too many times that I can control the rain, wind n light storms!?!?!? Since I was a lil child, I hv experienced this. If I say that I wish rain would come guess what? There'll be rain outside; if I say I'm afraid of lightening, there'll be no light storms after that🙂is it real or I'm being delusional here? I think it is real but again ��💔 I do get deja vus n through visions I hv seen my or my frnd's future so many times. Saved lot of lives while I'm still bit on a private side felt too relatable (this is who I am irl). People can sense my feelings thru weather is such a cool idea. I wish this would be real but 😂 I hv always imagined myself controlling big tide waves n calming em down? 😨 Mood necklace 😭I want to hv one I really really want to hv crystal jewelry, mood rings n necklaces n stuff like that but my parents won't let me but that's fine. Once I get independent, I'll definitely buy em all. Not to mention I'm wearing one necklace from the last 15 years n the other one probably from the last 4-5 years(both r spiritual)👀

Thankyou so much for hosting such a wonderful game, take care, stay hydrated n again HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎉

haha that's so wild.

I swear I just draw from my imagination LOL it's so great when I can connect someone so well to a character haha.

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sly-merlin · 4 years ago

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killing me - 5 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : slight mention of weapons , cursing

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! ) @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @suhweo @exfolitae @minejungwoo

{reposting because of the stupid tag problem}

K.M masterlist

k.m 4 k.m 6

tuesday

“How’s everything doyoung?” taeyong’s deep voice echoed through the spacious basement.

“I have double checked, just in case. CCTV’s are handled, there would be no interference, like always, but -”

“But!” taeyong raised his brow at doyoung.

“You can’t deny that yuta is best with knives so why not just let him join as well?” he verbalized his opinion. Despite only doyoung speaking, it was beyond doubt that every single men in the room agreed with him. Yuta paired well with his knives and pistols, proving to be an asset for the already well packed, trained squad.

“It sounds more like you chickening out than your concern for the assignment do!” taeyong replied, giving doyoung a smug smile. Doyoug would rather fix affairs outside the business than being involved directly but taeyong loved teasing him for choosing the more sheltered option.

“When have I ever done that!” doyoung’s high pitched voice earned him few laughs from the room. “But you know-

“I’m not going to fall for your sweet tongue. Save it for others!” doyoung sighed loudly, focusing again on his holster.

“I CAN’T FIND THE SUPPLEMENTARIES” mark shouted from other side of the room addressing no one in particular. Taeil grimaced at his voice, running to join him near the cabinets he was rummaging through since forever.

“What are you missing? And don’t shout next time!”

“Aah sorry hyung. I want some magazines. Last time I fell short of them.”

Taeil nodded briefly and went on helping him in finding bullets for his personalized gun.

Everyone was getting ready for some action at the centre of gangnam. Some protection fee disagreements had led to a clash with some other faction, needing immediate action. A strike at the centre of well-protected city was never easy but that was the reason that mafia in seoul was mostly underground and well hidden. People knew what was taking place in their surroundings but no one was aware of the sources from which it materialized.

“Am I not invited?” all the heads turned towards the rather small metal door. Yuta was standing on the stairs, his body leaning forwards, supported by his hand on the upper frame of door.

“No. you are not.” taeyong said while moving his head playfully, flinging a knife back and forth to show yuta what he was missing. thrill

“Oh come on, you guys can’t go without me. They are called dagger’s troop for a reason.” he descended the stairs, making a dramatic slow entry to the room. “And to handle them, you need me. The dagger king himself!” his exaggerated hand gestures were now irritating taeyong.

“It’s a no again. And besides we have our switchblade prince so we’ll hardly need you.”

“Ten has never handled them before and you need someone experienced to wrap up quickly. He is short-

“Short and skilled who taught you to use knives in the first place, yuta. Don’t make baseless arguments. If you want to do something, then go, sit with the techies. Maybe you’ll learn some tech from min or hyuck or you can join renjun and xiaojun in the med facility. Absorb their energy and acquire some patience! You need it more than they do actually”. Everyone was now focusing on their heated convo.

“Taeyong, I agreed to your proposal that is clearly not in any way beneficial to me, so now, you have to restore me here. I’m needed and you know that!”

“You are needed indeed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it without you. You are useful until you are not dangerous. This is underground yuta. An apology won’t make up for something that you’d lose forever and you understand what I’m saying. So please move out.” taeyong’s stern voice echoed in the room again. Yuta wanted to argue back but the words got stuck in his throat. His hands went through his already messy hair whilst he eyed a chair with infuriation.

Glancing one last time at taeyong with his hooded eyes, he hit the chair with extreme force, leaving the room immediately. Ascending the stairs he felt too many emotions at the moment. He has never felt like an inconvenience to his own people before, his most slips ups just going unnoticed by everyone. Others, rather than being seen as a trouble appreciated the expertise he acquired here. Until specific someone decided to barge in!

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

Wednesday

“We should eat here more often, I’m so glad the café was full!” yugyeom and yeong nodded their heads in agreement. The three of you were sitting in the garden next to the cafeteria, eating your sandwiches. The sky was filled with grey clouds, the cool breeze brushing your skin and shirts flowing in the wind’s direction. The weather was happy and so were you all.

“Give that scarf a break y/n. it’s been two days. This combination is an eye sore!” yeong told you off earning an eye roll from you.

“It’s the 3rd day!” gyeom corrected her.

“Yaaah! Who bought you the sandwich!” you huffed at him. As you expected, yeong pinched her nose, showing how disappointed she was in you.

“Y/n. you need to start the exercise again.”

“Noooo” you whined at her, wriggling your whole body. you’d rather choose staying in the dorms than doing her fashion exercises!

“Before leaving the room in the morning, you will send me a picture of your outfit. I don’t want to do this like last time so please don’t argue. Thank you and now please remove this fashion blunder” she said everything in a honey dripping voice, reminding you of the last time when you disobeyed her same order.

Yugyeom chuckled with the sandwich still in his mouth before responding to her demand. “Leave it yeongie. The scarf is hiding her sinful deeds. I’d prefer you see her with it, not otherwise. Maybe wonwoo gave a standing ovation worthy performance this t—-aahhh! Don’t hit me doofus.” But you kept attacking him with your bag, yeong was watching you both with a dissatisfied look but it was nothing she wasn’t used to already. He tried to dodge your actions but you were tougher especially with the weapon in your hand. He was sprawled on the ground now, laughs turned into recurrent coughs. “Sorry y/n. y/n

“y/n” you both looked at each other when you heard a third voice calling your name.

You straightened yourself, visage turning jovial, neck craning to face the visitor.

Your relaxed posture stiffened at the sight of the said caller.

Yuta.

Yuta was standing there, beaming towards you. He waved at you, which you couldn’t return because of the initial shock you were in. what was he doing here. Yugyeom and yeong were also staring at the stranger.

Yuta extended his hand for you to lift you up from the ground, but you didn’t move an inch. He inclined his head a bit, questioning you silently. You took his hand to rise up. Your friends were now curiously watching the awkward exchange.

Yuta gave others a toothy smile, waving energetically at them as if they were long lost friends he just found today. And he did indeed looked like one of you. with black polo tucked in his washed jeans, blond hair down and earnings adorning his earlobes, he looked like a normal extrovert student , who could turn people into friendly puppies just with a flash of smile.

“Can I borrow y/n for a minute? I won’t take long , I promise” he blinked his eyes at them , assuring your friends that he wasn’t abducting you , which was, you guess, his first instinct, assuring people of his virtuous intentions . He took your hand and started dragging you towards the concrete path. As soon as you were out of other’s eyes, he jerked your hand away making you groan loudly.

“Why are you so rash? Don’t you have sense? What the hell are you doing here and how the fuck did you find me in this goddamnit big campus!” you growled at him.

“Stop bitching at me! I’m not Johnny or taeyong, watch you fucking tongue in front of me!” yuta fiery eyes bored into yours. The previous cheerful expression already changed into one of frustration.

“Then don’t treat me like one yuta. Simple as that! You might not be used to this, but I am not a servile flatterer.” you retorted, mirroring his aggression.

You crossed your arms against your chest, titling your head to reciprocate his look. “Now say why you are here cause unlike you, I have work to do!”

Yuta scoffed at your words, his hand graciously fixing his now messed up hair. You took this time to give him a once over. He was distracted by the wind, and you by his face. At first blush, he looked devastatingly fuckable but your self-esteem was of far more importance right now. You hated men who had no regard for women and at this point, yuta’s behaviour was fulfilling all the essentials.

“What did u mean that day when you said you’d be leaving,” he was still giving you the same stern look but his voice came surprisingly calm “what is there between you and taeyong that I’m missing?”

His question confused you. You were sure that the conversation between you and taeyong was not so classified. So maybe yuta was there just to bother you.

“See! I’m not at all obliged to answer you. So you better ask your boss. And never show up here again, unless you are called, which would obviously never happen!”

“Just answer me! I’m not here for your bloody lecture!” he tiredly blurted at you. But you were adamant so you just turned away from him.

You were about to successfully dodge him when he caught your forearm and in a flash, pulled you against himself. You were now eyeing his chest, which was soon replaced with his face. He had leaned down to face you, his eyes scanning your now alarmed expression. His eyes lowered to your chest which was stuck due to the breath you had sucked in.

“Breathe baby. I come in peace. No need to be afraid.” he said softly and you’d have believed him, if you were blind to his capabilities. You struggled to step away from him but his grip was tightening enough to bruise your arm. He found your little effort very amusing.

“At least you are entertaining hmm.” he jerked away your arm again, this time you let out an audible yelp. “I just came to check your status, nothing else” he said looking particularly nowhere.

“my what?” You asked him, rubbing your arm to soothe the stinging sensation. You were also perplexed at how he simply forgot about the previous topic.

He feigned hurt, rubbing over his chest “don’t be so hostile. I wanted to know about your status with your friends. The one you were hitting so cutely! He’s one of your friends who know everything about you right.”

“You don’t need to be so friendly. Bear with my hostile attitude coz that’s what you’ll be getting from now on.”

“At least you are acknowledging this union.” his mocking tone was nauseating you. “So when are you going to introduce me or do I have to take the initiative!”

“Stay away yuta. I’m not your laughing stock.”

“Okay, so you are not going to do it!” he gave you a once over mid-sentence. “Fine. I’ll do it by myself.” he started walking down the path to the garden your friends were sitting in. but before you could stop him, you saw both of them coming your way. You hurriedly ran over to them, passing yuta. He was seriously enjoying your distress.

“Shorty, your bag.” gyeom handed you your bag. “We have to go to class .your sandwich is in the bigger one. eat it before going to library and we are going to 67th street again. Meet you there tonight”

“No I’ll pass”

“And who is that hunk? Your secret boyfriend?” yeong questioned wiggling her brows. Before yuta could take charge of the situation, you spoke to fit it to your own mould.

“n-no. He-he’s a junior’s older brother. Just here to talk about his poor situation.”

“Okay. But he’s so your type. You can try something you know” she whispered, your eyes widening in pure horror.

“He can hear us yeong!!!” but she took a back step before you could say anything else.

“Ok bye bye. see you later. And don’t wear that scarf again or I’ll increase the time period of exercise.” she shouted. You showed a middle finger to her which was returned with a flying kiss.

“The scarf! I totally missed it!” you rolled your eyes before facing his smirking self, his breath fanning your neck hair, his face being too close for your liking.

“You look quite fond of hickies. Just let these one disappear then I can decorate you myself.” he whispered, voice meant only for you to hear.

“Meet you on Saturday, babes. I think I’ll lose my sleep if I admired you anymore!” he whirled around leaving your fuming form behind. it was as if he was fond of having his last say in every conversation.

“These hickies would only disappear in your fucking dreams boy!” you murmured, glaring at his back.

The true intentions of his sudden appearance were masked by his fake excitement but that had struck a chord in you. You couldn’t avoid it for too long. Sooner or later, it had to be done.

starting with your roommate.

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

Your vision was almost blurry for the time you spent staring at your door, takeout from her favourite restaurant dangling from your arm. Chelin was inside waiting for you. She was busy these days like any other student but you always had some tricks up your sleeve to get her to agree. Today it was her favourite authentic Chinese dumplings. You shifted from one foot to another to calm your nerves, like it was going to make any difference. You had to tell chelin and this laborious task was to be accomplished today. Now or never, you decided finally, knocking on the door.

The door opened almost instantly.

“Why do you make me walk when you have the key!” she said, pretending to be irritated at you.

You stuck your tongue at her whilst shoving the food bag in her face. Sniffing the bag, her eyes widened, sparkle adoring her black orbs and lower lip trembling to form the most stupid fake emotional look she could muster. You lifted yourself up to flick her frowned forehead playfully. Both of you broke into laughter, the room turning lively.

“What is it this time?” chelin asked you curiously, making her way to the small corner you both called kitchen. You removed your bag and shoes meanwhile.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you and talk, you know. It’s been days since we have seen each other properly.” you replied gently. Chelin was 4 years younger than you in age but only 2 years behind in classes. Her intelligence was hard to be matched. That’s why even being younger than her classmates, she was the smartest. A deadly combo of beauty with brains.

“ohh.” she returned .you reached out for the food boxes and moved to let her sit on your bed. “Now tell me what it is. This restaurant doesn’t deliver inside uni and you have to wait 45 minutes for their delivery and unless you want something-

She trailed off, wiggling her brows at you.

You have always been the most amusing subject for her psychology projects, defying everything her books said. You were suprising, yet predictable.

“I’ve got an internship” you blurted out a lie, eyes setting on the food instead of facing her.

“Nothing new in that. You get them all the time without even applying, unlike us. But what happened to your mantra, Chois or nothing!!!” she declared her surprise.

The only way to make your story credible was to avoid her eyes and occupying yourself with dumplings was the best tactic at this point.

“Yes, but I’m not going to do freelance writing anymore. It’s boring and its paid internship and not a servant service so I’ll give it a try.”

“Hmm. good. But you didn’t spend your precious money just to inform me of another shot right! So get on the point.”

You chewed the food in your mouth, before putting an end to her queries.

“Umm. I might be moving out” you said sheepishly to gauge her reaction. The dumpling which she was about to put in her mouth was now messily dipped in the sauce pot.

“You are what?”

“I’m moving out!”

“But why and where?” she straightened her back at the seriousness of your statement, the food long forgotten now.

“It’s not finalized yet” you stated shrugging your shoulders. “I want a place near the northern or eastern court complex. It’s going to be easy if I start already. And chois are also located there.”

“Which company?” while bundling your lies, you had missed this. Nervously, you picked up the chopsticks again trumping up an answer to satisfy her.

“Aah umm moon industries!”

An audible gasp escaped her mouth. She was shocked at first but regained herself in no time.

“Anything is possible if it’s you.” you knew that this would work. you were a graduate so job offers were not anything suspicious.

“you can finally have your peace.” you made an effort to lighten up a bit but chelin went quite for a moment.

“So you are leaving me. Just like that.” her voice came out as a mere whisper. You looked up to find her glossy eyes, a heaviness in her voice. You didn’t expect her to be such responsive!

“You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“don’t do this chel-

“And who would buy me ice-cream when I breakup with jay again. An- and who will remind me to change my toothbrush. My hangover pills. And moreover how are you going to make your food. Your only source of homemade food is me. You are still scared of the beeping of the bloody oven. You always eat cold takeout’s when I’m not here!” as she ranted, you felt your own legs trembling at her voice.

“Take me with you” she said abruptly making you shook your head at her. You knew she won’t be easy but you hadn’t anticipated this at all. You had to lie again, for her own sake.

“it’s not feasible chelin. I’m gonna be an hour away. but my job demands that’s why I’ll have to move out. you can’t afford living outside of campus right now. don’t make this harder, please.”

And you saw visible stream of tears leaving her eyes. You wanted nothing more than to hug her tightly and cry out your own sorrows but you couldn’t. You were not allowed to express your feelings just yet.

“Why can’t you just stay? I don’t want to live without you!”

“It’s just a year more anyway.” you tried to justify your departure.

“A full year! And that’s different. I’ll also be leaving next year but now it’s just you!”

“Move in with jay, chelin.” you suggested. “He always nags at you for refusing him. It’ll make him happy and maybe your intermittent breakups would stop as well!”

“I don’t want to”

“You do want to. It’s me who’s been holding you back till now. You just don’t want to leave my grown up ass alone.”

“No! I’ve been refusing him cause I’ll chose you over that asshole any day.” she said while rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. You both were closer than sisters. She even spent some of her vacations in the campus just so you won’t feel like a loner. She was the closest to the family you could have at this point. And no, you were not ready to let her go.

“When are you moving out?” her sniffling was now replaced with soft breathing.

“Maybe next week” you lied again.

“Are you happy?”

“Leaving you? No. I could never be. But it has to be done.”

“I hope your roommate knows how to cook. Otherwise you’ll die from takeouts. And let’s spend the week together. We’ll go shopping for new skirts. You won’t be wearing any trousers this time!” she proposed, trying to smile again.

“We are still in the same uni and you’ll find me here all the time. The internship demands weekend working hours anyway so it’s manageable.” you reasoned as an attempt to satisfy the budding questions in her mind.

“But it won’t be same”

Nothing would be same from now on! you thought.

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

Saturday morning

The dreadful day came sooner than you desired. Sprawled on your bed, you looked around the small room, which has been your residence from the day you left the orphanage and that you still planned on inhabiting until the end of next year if nothing has changed but now it was better to dust it off and move on.

What were you even supposed to call it! Wedding day? Or effective date? You weren’t even sure of it being a contract or an arrangement! Maybe contract to keep your mouth shut! But it also requires a free consent that was hard to find in your current position. A legal agreement binding you with taeyong’s will or an arrangement! Arrangement to make your life easy while being driven away from the one you were somewhat content with!

You could make any assertion to console yourself.

You were alone this morning for chelin has gone to jay’s apartment. You were somewhat glad that she was gone. Moving out in her absence would be good otherwise she won’t let you go out alone with all your stuff and you weren’t ready to explain her anything yet. As per her knowledge, you were leaving next week. your all braincells were spent while satisfying her that packing a week before was just out of convenience and nothing else.

You got up from the bed to shower your worries away. Following a forty minutes of comforting bath, you opened the small closet to choose something from the clothes you were yet to pack. As if on cue, your phone made a very familiar sound.

Ping. The fine tune was now set for a very fine person.

Little shit: I can’t wait to meet you noonaaa! Please wear something white!

White! You gave your closet and packed boxes a once over. There was plenty of white but nothing white! There was a white dress –with cherry blossoms on it. Then there was skirt, with black stripes. The only thing you had in crisp white was 3 pairs of shorts and sneakers.

And you were definitely going to wear those. After all, jaemin did say something white! It’s not daily that you get to have fun with interpretation.

After contemplating for 5 minutes straight, you chose the red bell sleeved round neck crop top to wear with your white high waist denim shorts. from nowhwere were you looking like someone about to get married! But like your everyday chant- who cares!

You were brushing your hair when a sound from the phone distracted you from flattering yourself.

Johnny: are you ready?

As decided earlier, Johnny was going to pick you and your stuff from the dorm. He was more cordial than doyoung, parking the car just near the dorms.

You: yes, I am.

Johnny: good. Let me in.

And you did. But instead of one, there were two of them. You looked curiously at the shorter men who was glancing you up and down.

“He’s ten. And ten this is y/n.” the said guy waved, giving a sweet smile.

“Hi!”

“So how many boxes do you have?” Johnny asked looking around the tiny space.

“7 in total.” you started explaining. “Two boxes of shoes and clothes each. And other one for the accessories and random stuff. One medium sized luggage of my books. I have yet to pack some clothes from the closet and my desk space needs to be cleaned up as well. So I think it’ll take about 30 minutes to do everything.” you finished.

“Only 2 boxes of clothes?” ten asked, a look of judgement all over his face.

“Yup. I’ll take winter clothes afterwards. My roommate is going to keep them so I’ll collect them later and 3 boxes! I’ve yet to fill one.”

“Aah ok. Let’s do it then.” that being said you showed Johnny the side of the little hallway where you had placed your plastic boxes.

“Johnny, please be careful. The boxes are all rented and keeping upside down would ruin the shoe package. Just a li-“ you stopped midway when Johnny started giggling at your distressed tone.

“Don’t worry. Just pack the other stuff.”

You nodded and started with the packing. The closet was clear of your belongings. The only place left was your desk. You crowded your backpack with laptop, chargers and other stationaries that you kept out as an act to cover from chelin.

Johnny and ten made several trips up and down and finally after about forty minutes, you were finally done.

“Shall we go?” ten asked you. You didn’t reply instead choosing to walk outside silently.

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

You reached the destination in about 40 minutes. The area had a different ambiance than the city side. It was not secluded but wasn’t crowded either. The house looked more like a closed off architectural 2 storey building, giving a “enter with caution” feels.

You only took your phone with you as you were going to the new place in few hours anyway.

As you entered, déjà vu took over your senses. The couch in the hallway was jam-packed just like the last time. And if it was not enough, you saw few younger boys coming down the stairs from other side of the hallway. And one of them was too hard to miss.

“Noonaaa” jaemin ran down the remaining stairs coming to stand in front of you. He gave you an electric smile, your own lips curving upwards.

“I told you to wear white!? He whined at your choice of clothing.

You visibly rolled your eyes at him. “And this is white! The shorts and shoes are crisp white. What else do you want?” as much as you wanted to be polite but your nature didn’t allow you to take offense.

“Ok ok fine. I only saw red. This’ll also do. You look good.” he stated, eyeing your sleeves.

“Come inside.” he took your hand, swiftly moving you towards the centre of hall. Once he left your hand, you bowed a little in greeting, hoping you won’t have to do that again and again.

Johnny had told you the other day that few of them were older than you including him, yuta and taeyong. So you had to greet them with respect. you were a women with manners!

“No need for formality y/n. just sit down.” taeyong also descended from the same stairs. You sat at the only unoccupied chair in the room whereas taeyong sat on the arm of the bigger sofa.

“You got everything?” you nodded at his question.

“Ok then. Yuta is arriving in few minutes. Until then if you want, you can go explore the house.”

You shook your head at him. You were sure everyone could tell how apprehensive you were being. A roomful of boys was staring at you like hawks. It was confirmed to you by now that you were only girl in this house. You were fiddling with hands, crossing and uncrossing your legs to make yourself more comfortable but your fidgeting only made others awkward as well.

“Stop making her nervous!” Kun’s voice reached your ears before you could see him. It looked like he came from outside. At the lack of seat, he made a beeline for the space you were filling , sitting at the arm of your sofa. Maybe it’s a habit, you thought.

“I knew you were coming, so I made a special meal for you. Jaemin helped a lot though.” at your mere bob as an answer, kun realised that he couldn’t do anything to make you feel any better. the immensity of the setting was far more on your conscious than others.

“noona , this is jisung and chenle, you didn’t meet them right!” you saw two boys whom jaemin was dragging to stand in front of you. they looked quite younger than the other ones. their charming smiles directed at you finally turned your stoic expression to mirror theirs.

your little interaction was interrupted by light footsteps on the marble floor.

“Were you all waiting for me?” yuta’s voice resonated in the silent room. “why couldn’t you complete this mission in my absence taeyong. It’s not like you don’t have substitute!” he sneered at his leader, looking around to find a seat.

jungwoo got up from his seat, motioning yuta to sit.

“I have to be somewhere else, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get it over with!” yuta offered. taeyong nodded at him, directing doyoung to get something from inside.

doyoung went away and came back with a bundle of files. he opened a file and placed it in front of you.

“you can read it first. i completed the registration forms, your bio data is filled. just check for any misinformation. there was no poof of your permanent residential address so jaehyun got exception for you because you are a student. but you both might need to visit district office as they won’t grant exemption from appearance.” doyoung pointed everything and explained it to you.

the papers were legitimate, you bio data including your identity number, parents name , everything was correct. the only astonishing thing was the name of your legal representative. you thought I’d be doyoung but you were wrong.

through counsel,

jeong jaehyun.

your fingers lingered on his name. it was not possible as johnny told you he was just about same age as you. you looked at doyoung with a raised brow.

“jae was chosen by our own company so he started working under taeyong immediately after graduation” doyoung mumbled and you snorted at his statement. obviously , he had it easy!

“where do I have to sign?” you asked in a small voice.

and you scribbled right where he marked.

he passed the papers to yuta.

with a frown on his face, yuta also did the same. throwing the papers in doyoung’s face, he rose up from his seat, turning towards the door.

“wait yuta” taeyong’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“what do you want now. do I have to kiss her?” his questioned carried a mocking tone, making you straighten your back. you were just as disgusted at the thought as was him. but you were not throwing tantrums like him.

“the rings. you have to make it believable right” taeyong extracted a velvet rectangular box from his pocket, placing it on the table. he signalled you to open it.

you reached out for the purple box. inside it were two platinum bands with a single diamond shining right in the centre. they were beautiful but meaningless.

“your hand yuta. why do I have to tell you everything?” yuta scoffed at him and snatched the box from your hand, pulling your arm in the way.

he took out both bands, tossing the box in taeyong’s lap. he wore the one meant for him, in his left finger and grabbed your hand to put the ring on. you flinched a little at the force but he didn’t seem to give a shit about you felt.

“oh the ring is loose.”he commented at the band being not of your size. you jerked away your hand to remove the ring, instead placing it in your forefinger.

“you are not supposed to have what isn’t yours baby!” he remarked slyly before modelling his way out. his mouth was acidic, that you were sure by now.

“CONGRATULATIONS ON THE WEDDING MRS. NAKAMOTO!”

and yuta’s words kept ringing even when he was gone. mechanically, your hands were balled into fists, anger rising. you were not feeling bitter at his words for didn’t expect anything better from him. but he shouldn’t have attacked your dignity in front of strangers.

only five minutes had passed and you were already encumbered with the weight of the ornament!

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

where do you think this is going?? do you like it so far? please lemme know if you get time to leave some feedback!

and welcome all the new readers! i hope you are enjoying this!

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #ncct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct mafia #nct arrange marriage #yuta mafia #yuta arrange marriage #killing me yuta #yuta #yuta angst #yuta series #nct series

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floraone · 4 years ago

Text

So tamagooo posted this fucking spectacular Mamoru fanart yesterday that included Mamoru in scrubs with a bunny mug that reads "usa" AND IT OWNS MY HEART NOW.

ANYWAY my friends made a prompt out of it in their prompt-challenge and this is unbeta-ed and not all that creative but here you go this is what I wrote for it:

---

When Rina first started her residency at Juuban General Hospital, she hadn't much taken note of many of the other residents. Most residents here came from Keio, she and a handful of others came from Waseda, and she'd learned along the way that college boys were super annoying and super not her thing most of the time and really didn't bother.

While she had worked her ass off in medical school, had worked so hard in the first place to even GET into medical school and pass the rigged higher bar in place to keep many women out, she'd been so deeply disappointed at the way so many guys in her classes were just... not. She had excelled at every step of the way and pushed at sexist walls that were made of steel. And yet, Waseda had been full of stuck up rich boys that slacked off and gotten where she'd fought so hard to be, and then felt scared of a woman who knew as much as they did or, god forbid, more.

It had been infuriating, and it had made Rina not want to date again.

So when she'd seen Chiba Mamoru drive into work in a flashy red foreign Alfa Romero two weeks into their residency, out of breath and with his hair terribly disheveled as he rushed through the door just barely in time, she'd rolled her eyes and thought she knew all there was to know about him.

It wasn't until rounds half a year later that her view of him fundamentally changed.

Rina hated rounds. Not because she didn't know every answer the chief of medicine ever asked, but because he never asked her.

Usually, when the Waseda boys around her wouldn't know an answer, they'd try to talk their way out, say some very vague and always-accurate non-answer to save face and the Chief of Medicine would press his lips together and yet let it go.

And so Chiba Mamoru's reaction surprised her so hard she almost physically recoiled.

"I don't know," he'd answered easily, confidently. And if that hadn't been shocking enough, he kept talking. "But I am sure Sato-san will know the answer, why don't you ask her?"

Her eyes blew so wide she lost control over her facial muscles when, for the first time, the Chief of Medicine's eyes landed on her, and only after his searching gaze had roamed over the faces of quite a number of boys - boys who were all silently looking at her, too. (And...didn't the Chief of Medicine even know her name?!)

She was so shocked it took her a moment to speak, and when she looked back at Chiba, his eyes were growing alarmed too, as if he suddenly got worried he'd accidently thrown her under the bus and not helped her after all, and that reaction was all the confirmation she needed.

Chiba Mamoru was helping her. He had been confident she knew this difficult answer.

"The lack of joint inflammation and abatement of both digital and abdominal pain in the patient speaks for a misdiagnosis. I suggest testing for fibromyalgia instead," she shot out once she finally got her bearings.

The room was completely silent after that.

But of course she was right. And she could answer every last follow-up question, even when he made it harder and harder, and the Chief of Medicine, in the end, looked impressed.

"Sato Rina, yes?" he asked to confirm, leafing through his charts.

He definitely knew her name after that.

And the way Chiba Mamoru smiled smugly afterwards - not at her, but at the Chief of Medicine - left her even more perplexed than she'd already been.

It didn't let her go.

"Why'd you do it?" She asked him hours later when she found him in the break room, pulling a mug from the little compartment that read 'Chiba' and pouring his coffee.

He didn't react to her informal address, only to the sheer puzzlement in her words, and shrugged.

"You remind me of a friend of mine. She's a Todai med student. She's as brilliant as you," he said easily, and lifted his mug to his mouth. It was pink. There was a bunny on it, and the word 'Usa', and yet he'd clearly marked it as his in a way no one else here marked their things. It steamed.

"I think you both fight the same battles sometimes," he said with a kind expression, and Rina tried to collect her jaw from the floor.

She really couldn't believe herself when her mouth opened and she started to dig for information before her brain had the decency to consent to it.

"A friend...?" she asked, and then immediately blushed in a way she had not blushed since middle school.

But he didn't even notice. He just looked at his girly mug fondly and then he beamed.

His smile turned brilliant. Blinding. "One of my very best ones, yes."

He exuded a level of sheer happiness that was quite frankly almost overwhelming.

It only came to her later that night, as she walked home exhausted in her blue scrubs completely wrinkled, that it had been the first answer in six months of daily rounds he hadn't known to answer correctly.

And she'd watched him, then.

He was impeccably friendly and polite, and yet he seemed to slip through the seams of conversation among the staff most of the time. But he didn't seem to mind at all. He kept to himself, and yet he did not seem lonely in the least.

He was terribly good with kids. He knelt down to their level and smiled that blinding smile. He had a Sailor Moon key chain. Sometimes, there were roses on his socks. And every day he would over-use that pink mug as if he didn't get enough sleep, and clutch at it throughout the day when it got long and tiresome.

It were small glimpses that were so endearing it puckered in her chest.

Until one day she had a patient with the most curious hairstyle and a smile even brighter and more trusting than that of Chiba Mamoru. Even when she was bleeding and in visible pain.

Tsukino Usagi.

Chiba Mamoru was one big breathless and disheveled mess when he burst through the door where he wasn't supposed to be, completely out of it.

His hands were trembling in a way she'd never seen anyone tremble and yet still talk through it somewhat calmly when he begged her to be careful with this particular patient, and told her with shining, trusting eyes that flitted so very uncharacterically agitated around the room that he wouldn't trust anyone with her but Rina.

It was a few months later that Rina had started dating again. Chiba Mamoru had proven to her that there were other boys out there than the Waseda boys she knew.

There were those that weren't scared of a woman with a brain, those that drank coffee out of pink cups with their girlfriend's name on it, and who lost all countenance when this girlfriend was in pain.

She wanted one of those.

---

Anyway I think a Mamoru who met Tsukino Usagi when he was 17 and grew the rest of the way up with her would be a quietly happy person in the long run. She brought out all the good parts. Happy good parts people would be drawn to that are there because of her.

Also I really like all those Asanuma-like situations where an outsider is looking at our babies and slowly starts to get why they're the OTP🤷‍♀️

#my fic #tumblr shorts #my stuff #sailor moon fanfiction #usagi x mamoru fanfiction

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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Title: In Bad Waters - part fifteen Word count: ±6250 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part fifteen summary: The hunt is over, and Zoë and the brothers go separate ways. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Also a deep bow to @fangirl-and-medstudent-help who was very patient with me when I asked about a hundred medical questions. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

The lights of the suite switch on when Zoë slips the keycard in its holder by the door. After the assault she suffered earlier today, the Hampton Inn hotel management provided her with a bigger and better accommodation. Although she doesn’t plan to spend another night in Paragould, she took the generous offer. Dean enters the spacious room as well, Sam following close behind, in case his brother needs assistance. It bugs the hell out of the older sibling, who has grumpily told him that he’s fine a couple of times already. Yet, he allows the hovering, because honestly; he doesn’t feel so fresh.

On the way over, Zoë told him to lose the soaked shirt, which contradicted Dean’s instincts, because he has never felt this cold in his entire life, despite the heaters blowing air into the Chevy at level inferno. Even now, he can’t stop himself from shivering, his teeth clattering every now and then, despite his favorite leather coat that he’s wearing, the only clothing item that didn’t get drenched.

Exhausted, he plops down on the kingsize bed, to out of it to comment on the luxurious suite. Closing his eyes for a second, he rubs his forehead, trying to rid himself from the throbbing inside his skull. He coughs again, the involuntary action burning his lungs. It’s a painful yet ironic sensation, because he didn’t expect to feel like his airway is on fire after drowning in a fucking lake.

“Get out of those wet clothes, Dean,” Zoë tells him sternly, nodding at his jeans while slipping her Harley Davidson jacket on a coat hanger. “We need to warm you up.”

Normally, he would have had at least three sly remarks ready, but not this time. Instead, he nods with a sniff, bending down to untie his shoelaces with shaky fingers. Sam drops one of their duffel bags on the other side of the bed, pulling out a clean pair of jeans, one of Dean’s henley’s, a hoodie, socks and underwear. “I’m gonna take a shower first,” Dean says, pulling off his soaked boots.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Zoë intervenes, setting up her extensive medical kit on the nightstand. “I made quite an effort to bring you back to life, so it would be an awful waste of my time if you go into shock and die on the bathroom floor.” Sam raises his eyebrows at that, much like Dean, who lets his hand slip from his face. “How else am I gonna get warm, ‘cause I’m fucking freezing,” he returns, his voice still hoarse. “By raising your temperature slowly. Sam, can you grab a towel and fill that hot water bottle we got from the front desk? And get the extra comforters from the other bed.”

While the younger Winchester goes to collect the required items, Zoë opens the lid and takes out an ear thermometer from the metal briefcase, placing a clean probe tip on the end while she sits down next to the battered hunter. Dean flinches away from her when she cups his face firmly to hold him in place, earning an annoyed glare from the former med student. “Would you like me to use the regular one? Because I’ll give you one guess where I’d have to stick that. Now, sit still,” she orders, pulling his ear back to insert the device into his ear canal. “Jesus, you’re not the one for bedside manners, are you?” Dean mutters, but cooperates either way.

Zoë doesn’t respond, waiting for the thermometer to beep. She retreats it when it does exactly that and reads the display. “You’re at 95.2.” “That low?” he says, unpleasantly surprised. She nods, placing the small device on the side table. “That’s what happens when your main generator loses power. The central heating shuts down real quick when your heart stops beating.”

Dean sniffles, very much aware of the fluid that is still creeping up his throat. He fights the urge to cough again and clears his throat uncomfortably, when Sam returns with the hot water bottle under his arm, white towels with the Hampton Inn logo on them in one hand and two thick duvets in the other. “Dry yourself off and put on something warm, then wrap yourself in these.” She takes the comforter and lays it on the bed next to the older Winchester, before folding the water bottle in one of the towels. “Here, keep this close to you. Don’t lay down and don’t fall asleep,” she warns. “I’m gonna freshen up.”

She gets up and muffles a grunt behind gritted teeth, her cracked ribs once again reminding the huntress of her current fragile state. Adrenaline pushed down the pain in the midst of action, but now that the dust has settled, it’s back at full force. Picking up her bag on the way, she heads to the spacious bathroom, locking the door behind her. Not really ready for the sight, she peels her wet top from her skin while she stands in front of the nine ft. wide mirror. Dark bruises greet her when she discards the tank top, her bra following suit. They match the colorful display on her right cheekbone and the black and blue fingerprints on her neck.

“Wonderful,” she muddles, continuing to strip down, the soaked through fabric smacking against the nature stone tiles. She has no idea how she’s gonna ride all the way up to the Canadian border with an injury like this, but she doesn’t have a choice. Time isn’t exactly on her side.

After a shower, Zoë runs a towel over her head and blow-dries her brown locks quickly. Usually, she allows her curls to dry naturally, but wearing a helmet on wet hair is anything but pleasant, not to mention that she will have to deal with a fogged up visor throughout most of the trip.

She puts on clean underwear and hoists her leather biker pants up her legs, cursing under her breath at the ache that sears through her side with even the slightest movement. Something needs to be done, because she won’t last an hour on the Harley. Before she steps outside the bathroom, she secures her bra clasps. Not bothered to put on her top just yet, she pops her head from behind the door. “Sam?” The tall young guy looks up and for a second she wonders if he can actually see her through the fringe of brown damp locks. “Can you grab me some KT tape from my med kit?” she asks, nodding at the briefcase next to Dean, who is huddled up in the exact spot where she left him, wrapped in the thick comforters. “Sure,” Sam obliges, getting up. After rummaging for a few seconds, he finds what he’s looking for and turns to the bathroom to hand it over, but apparently she has different ideas. “Get in,” she tells him.

Perplexed, but not brave enough to hesitate and give her a reason to scold at him, he enters the large room, which could easily be considered a mini spa. A large jacuzzi is situated in the corner, a walk-in shower next to it. There’s even a sauna, the wooden benches shielded off by a glass wall. It’s nothing like the shabby motel rooms he and Dean usually coop up in. His admiration for the luxury comes to a sudden stop when his absent gaze lands on Zoë. Like a virgin teenager who walked in on his friend’s older sister, he stares at her for a short second, eyes wide and blown away. Shit, she’s not wearing a shirt.

“Done gaping?” she responds, bored, placing her hand firmly in her unharmed side. “I need to tape my side and I can’t reach properly.” Feeling caught, he shifts his attention to the KT tape in his hand. “Uh… y-yeah, sure,” he stammers, fiddling to open the package. Rolling her eyes, she snatches the small box from his hands and opens it. “I swear to God, Sam, get yourself together. You’ve seen me in less.”

Uncomfortably, the younger Winchester runs his fingers through his hair. Why is he being so awkward? Or maybe the better question is; why can’t he keep his eyes off her? He tries his best not to stare, but when he does, he notices the dark bruises on her ribs. “Damn it, Zo. She got you good,” he huffs, worry replacing the uneasiness. “It’s not that bad. I just need to secure it before I hit the road,” the tough woman mutters, peeling the plastic away from the sticky coating. She turns her back to Sam, moving her brown wavy hair over her left shoulder and out of the way. “You need to place the first strip diagonally and downward, starting from just below the scapula. You might need to lift my bra a little.”

Somewhat nervous, the thoughtful guy rubs his hands together first, not wanting his touch to be cold. After handing him the medical tape, she lifts her right arm, hissing at the stretch. “Right here?” he asks, lifting the wing of her lace bra, before sticking one end of the strip right below her shoulder blade. She nods, breathing out a shuddering breath. “Yeah.”

Sam handles her gently, the pads of his fingers not as rough as she expected hunter’s hands to be. In silence he works, focussed on his task. Zoë watches him in the mirror, a small smile of amusement pulling at the corners of her mouth, despite the discomfort. His eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, hazel eyes tracing her bruised form. After a few more instructions, he secures the second strip with the same precision. Zoë can’t deny nor ignore the current that his touch sends through her body, and it has her intrigued.

“One more. Vertical along my side,” she says, her voice softer than she has spoken to him all evening. The younger Winchester tries not to gulp visibly, holding the enchanting woman still, while he smoothens the final strip down her bruised rib cage. He’s careful to prevent pressure on the sensitive area, not wanting to hurt her, but she shivers anyway. When he directs his gaze on her in their reflection, Sam notices it’s not pain that has her shuddering, because her challenging eyes tell a different story. They behold a hint of curiosity, interest... lust even.

Not sure how to cope with the tension that hangs in the air, he clears his throat and lets his finger slip from her beautifully toned and proportioned body, averting his eyes from the mirror. “I’m - uh - I’ll let you get dressed,” he stutters, awkwardly pointing his thumb over his shoulder before he heads to the door. “I’ll be right out,” she promises, picking a clean shirt from her bag.

Zoë watches him leave, smirking at his behavior. He really doesn’t know how to act around her, and it’s highly entertaining. There is a definite pull she experiences towards him, an attraction that she can’t quite place, but it’s not something she can dwell on. This case will be the last one they worked together and tonight will be the last time she ever sees him. But before they go separate ways, she needs to give his brother a thorough check up, even though she doesn’t like his company half as much as Sam’s. Suck it up, Zo. You’ve got work to do.

Refreshed and dressed, she enters the master suite again, Dean still on the side of the bed, wrapped up in comforters like a burrito. Zoë’s plump lips press together in a thin line, because now is not the moment to make fun of the hunter, who without a doubt feels miserable.

“Alright, let’s give you your physical exam so I can hit the road, huh?” she suggests, sitting down next to the older Winchester brother, taking her stethoscope from her briefcase and hanging it around her neck, after which she picks up a blood pressure gauge as well. “Stretch out your right arm.”

He shrugs the heavy comforter off his bare shoulders, silently obeying his physician’s orders. Again, Dean misses the perfect opportunity for a dirty comeback, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Although Zoë hasn’t known him for long, she did pick up on his usual demeanor, lightening the mood with a witty comment and some dark humor. Now, the joker is awfully quiet.

“Y’know, you guys can have the room for the night,” she offers. “It’s paid for anyway.” “Nah, I feel fine. Besides, if we don’t leave tonight, we’re gonna be late for our wolf hunt,” Dean replies, watching her strap the cuff around his upper arm. Sam leans against the wall, observing the skilled woman as well. He hates to admit it, but Dean has a point. “He’s right. Today was the first night of a full moon, we won’t have much time if we stay any longer.” “I’m just saying it might not be a bad idea to rest up,” Zoë points out, squeezing the rubber pump that’s attached to the cuff, filling it with air until circulation is cut off. “But you two kamikaze morons do what you gotta do.” Sam scoffs at that. “You’re one to talk.”

Her head cocks in his direction, staring him down intimidatingly, but Sam doesn’t budge and arches one eyebrow at her knowingly. His attitude annoys Zoë, and yet she doesn’t bite his head off. If circumstances were any different, she would have gladly spent at least the night in this luxurious suite and added several more, but she simply can’t. Wanting to avoid the reasoning behind her departure by all costs, she drops the matter.

Instead, she pulls the stethoscope from behind her neck, widens the headset and places the tips in her ears. She then continues to place the diaphragm just above the crease of the elbow, while allowing the cuff to deflate. Blood begins to flow through the brachial artery again, causing a beat to thud against Zoë’s eardrums, and she reads the systolic pressure on the meter. Once the blood vessels remain open and the pounding sound stops, the closest what the Winchesters have to a doctor reads the meter again.

“Your BP is 125 over 80. For a guy who lives off gas station food, pizza and burgers, that’s pretty damn healthy,” she comments, hooking the stethoscope around her neck again. “Great. So can I go now?” Dean is about to rise up from the bed, but Zoë grips him on the junction between his neck and his shoulder, pushing him down to sit on the bed again. “Did I say I was done?” she snaps back at him.

Dean bites his tongue when he feels her nails dig into his shoulder. He wants to yelp and call her names, yet he doesn’t, because Sam shoots him a warning glare. He argues with his little brother in silence, the younger sibling’s wide eyes sending death threats when Dean’s upper lip twitches while hinting at the woman who currently has a tight hold on him. He then shakes his head and gives in, too tired to have this discussion.

Zoë ignores the tension all together. “Well, if you aren’t gonna stay, do you mind starting to load up the car, Sam? I wanna check out as soon as I’m done here,” Zoë states, giving him something else to do other than lurking over her shoulder. “Sure,” the tall hunter says, and begins to gather their things, including the wet clothes Dean discarded earlier.

When Sam has left, the tough Winchester drops his head, blinking a couple of times, clearly not feeling his best. Zoë monitors him closely; she had a hunch he was keeping up appearance in order not to worry his sibling. “So now that your brother is out of the room, how are you really feeling?” she asks, removing the cuff from Dean’s arm. “And cut the bullshit. No one expects you to feel fine after flatlining.”

The hunter looks up at her from under heavy eyelids, trying to figure out what her intentions are. He assumes she’s asking to determine further medical action, and so he drops the act. “I - uh… I feel off, man,” he admits, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Headache?” she wonders, storing the sphygmomanometer away. He nods, swallowing hard. “Let me guess; you’re experiencing dizziness, decreased muscle strength, and feel like you could sleep for a week?” Zoë fills in for him. “Sounds about right,” Dean sighs.

Zoë puts in the ear tips of her stethoscope again in order to examine his heart, holding the bell between her second and third digit. She places the diaphragm on the right of the sternum, tracing his ribs under her fingertips to determine the right spot in order to hear the aortic valve. A stillness falls over the two, as Zoë concentrates to dissect the sound of Dean’s steady heartbeat, her other hand still holding him by the shoulder, her touch much more gentle this time around.

Not wanting to disturb her focus, the older Winchester brother allows his gaze to wander, spending this rare moment without them yelling at each other to admire her. Whenever the tough as nails huntress boils his blood, he tends to only see the ugly side of Zoë Sullivan, but right here in this peaceful serenity, her beauty stuns him. Her face is slightly turned away, the profile of her sharp jawline and slightly upward pointed nose brought out by the warm light on the nightstand. She’s close enough for him to smell the coconut shampoo lingering in her freshly washed hair. Only now does he realize that his shivering has stilled, but he’s not sure if it actually has to do with his body temperature steadily going up, or that her soft touch is what calms his tremors. He’s not used to kind contact, a hand on his shoulder, a sweet ruffle through his hair like his mother used to do, but deep down, he craves it.

When she shifts the bell of her stethoscope to the left side of his chest, Dean glances to her hand still gently gripping his tattooed arm, which is decorated with a short sleeve that fans out over his shoulder blade. Shades of black display what he stands for, symbols and sigils mixed with personal references to his life and the people who mean the world to him. He only now realizes she has been studying the piece of art forever edged in his skin, while she was listening to his heart.

When Zoë is sure the pulmonic valve of Dean’s heart sounds normal as well, she slides the bell of her stethoscope to listen for the heart sounds on the right, but when the hunter flinches under her touch, her eyes dart up at his. “That hurts?” “A bit. It’s fine,” he claims, shifting somewhat on the edge of the bed. “Sure I didn’t break a rib?” she ponders, feeling the tender area in the center of his chest, where the first stage of a bruise is surfacing. “I worked your chest pretty hard.”

Dean looks up at her, perplexed, as if it only now dawns on him what lengths Zoë went to save his life. She performed CPR on him, used all her capabilities to bring him back from the infinite darkness that was about to swallow him whole. Capabilities Sam doesn’t have, simply because he’s not trained to give medical aid. It hits Dean like lightning; if she hadn’t been there, he would have died.

“Zo?” The huntress shifts her attention from the sound of the mitral valve opening and closing, to her patient’s genuine eyes. The twenty-six year old tough guy seems that much younger all of a sudden, not sure how to get across what he wants to say. “You - uh... If it wasn’t for you, I… y’know--” “Don’t mention it.”

Dean carefully glances up at her, meeting a small smile. A silent huff leaves his lips when he realizes she just returned his own words to him. Words he spoke in response to the huntress, when she tried to express gratitude for his rescue, earlier this afternoon. “Well then, guess we’re square,” he comments. “Too bad I wasn’t conscious for the mouth-to-mouth action.” “Ah, there he is. I was wondering when you were gonna feel good enough to start behaving like a jackass,” Zoë sniggers. “Your heart sounds fine, I’m gonna check your lungs now. Take slow breaths, okay?”

With an amused smile on his lips, Dean does as told. Concentrating, the woman who would have aced med school listens to his respiration, using the stethoscope as an amplifier. Like she was taught, she starts at the left upper zone, then the right, comparing the two sides, before she moves down. “Can you inhale a little deeper for me?” she requests.

The hunter pulls in a big breath through his mouth, the action igniting a fire in his chest, similar to the time when he was a teenager, when he had a neglected cold that turned into something worse. He tries to fight another hacking fit, but loses the battle, quickly turning his head away from Zoë and coughs violently. When he settles, she continues the examination. “Pain?” she wonders, although she has an idea what the answer might be. “Burns,” he manages to say, his voice hoarse. “Try again, take it easy this time,” Zoë encourages.

After moving the diaphragm across her patient’s bare chest, she removes the medical instrument and takes a seat on the side of the bed as well, placing the bell on his back now. Staring at nothing in particular, she lets the sense of hearing take over completely. Brown eyes slightly shift from left to right, narrowing at a certain point. “What?” Dean wonders, noticing a hint of discontent in her expression. “Your lung sounds are a little faint; you still got some fluid in there,” the huntress explains, putting her stethoscope away. “It should clear by itself, your blood will absorb it, but if that cough gets worse, you're gonna need to see a real doctor.” “You seem like a real doc to me,” he shrugs, covering the compliment by clearing his throat. “Haven’t had a check up in years.”

Zoë casts her gaze down, appreciating the words, but unable to thank him for it. “Let’s keep it that way. Take these.” She takes a small plastic bottle from her briefcase, a prescription on the side. “With the swamp water you took in, you’re likely to develop pneumonia without antibiotics. Take two tonight. The coming days, one in the morning, one in the evening, never on an empty stomach, until the bottle is empty, alright? If it hurts, you can take Ibuprofen, but don’t go over the maximum dosage. You want me to pack you some?”

Somewhat stunned, Dean nods and takes the bottle between his index finger and his thumb. The doctor role Zoë is fulfilling right now, brings out an attentive and empathetic side of her, which he hasn’t seen yet to this extent. His injuries aren’t downgraded, he’s not told to man up and keep going, like his father so oftenly does when he suffered an injury on a hunt. He’s not used to this kind of care, but he values it.

“Thanks.”

The simple word that falls from his lips in a whisper has Zoë shift her eyes to him in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting a ‘thank you’, but doesn’t call him out on the sentiment. Her smile grows a little wider and for the first time since their reunion, Dean sees the innocent Californian surf girl he remembered from back in the days.

The huntress takes out the thermometer one last time, inserting it in his ear. He doesn’t move away this time, but slightly leans into her. The device beeps and she pulls it back. “96.8; you’re getting there. If you want you can take a shower now, just not too hot.” She removes the tip and gets up, throwing it in the trash can. “You’re all set.” “Alright,” he says, putting the water bottle aside and picking up a towel and his clothes.

He retreats to the bathroom and appreciates the spacious rain shower, and returns to the main suite, dressed in a warm hoody and dry jeans. His brother is back as well. “Ready to hit the road?” Dean nods, putting on his leather coat and straightening the collar. “Let’s go.”

The three hunters check out and walk out towards the parking lot five minutes later. The Impala is parked in front of the building across from Linwood Cemetery, the black paint job shimmering beautifully in the pale moonlight. Zoë approaches her bike, carrying a saddle bag over her shoulder and her helmet in the other hand, as the boys walk over to their car. Instinctively, Dean moves around to the left side of the car, but Zoë stops him. “You’re not driving,” she decides, as if it’s her call to make. “Unless you wanna be a road hazard.” “Oh, c’mon,” the owner of the car complains, redirecting a glare from the woman in their company to Sam, who is waiting for the keys with a smirk. After rolling his eyes, he tosses his brother the keys and drags his feet to the passenger side. “Sleep upright for a night or two,” the med student suggests. “Why the hell would I do that?” Dean returns, puzzled. “Because I reckon you don’t want to suffocate during the night.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s called secondary drowning, asshat.” Dean scoffs. “That’s a thing?” Zoë chuckles at his obliviousness. “That’s a thing.” “Noted,” Dean says, shoving down his warm jacket coat.

“You made your deadline,” Sam reminds her, leaning his arms on the hardtop while looking over as she checks the time. “Not yet, but at least I’ll make it in time for the big show,” she smiles faintly. “What about you two? Texas?” “Yep, Waco,” Sam specifies. Zoë nods. The Winchesters can tell from her reaction that she knows the place. “When you’re in town, stop by at Honeybee Ham & Deli. I tell ya, their ham and turkey is awesome,” Zoë recommends. Dean smiles happy as he pictures the plate full of juicy meat. “Will do.” “What about you?” the younger sibling wonders. Zoë climbs in the saddle of her Road King, which faces the two men. She doesn’t put her helmet on just yet, though. Her small smile disappears when she’s confronted with what’s coming. “I’m going up north,” she answers vaguely.

A silence follows and Dean glances at Sam over the top of his car. They can both sense that something’s up. “If you need a hand--” Sam starts carefully. “No, I don’t. Really guys, you need to stay out of this one. It’s not your fight,” Zoë says, stern. “Complicated case?” Dean comments. “It’s just something I need to take care of. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help you gave me here, but this is personal business,” she answers, looking from one to the other. “Whatever you do, don’t follow me.” “We have our own personal business to take care of,” Sam assures. “Your Dad?” the huntress assumes. “We want to find him. He’s probably after that thing that killed Mom and Jess by himself,” Sam states, determined.

For a moment Dean observes his brother, aware of the strong mindedness in his voice. He could fight him. Hell, he can start an argument with him right now, but what would it matter? Sam isn’t easily convinced otherwise, not when it comes to this. He wants to find Dad and kill whatever brought so much misery upon them so desperately, that it’s becoming an obsession. When he returns his gaze Zoë, he’s caught off guard by her, who stares directly at him. She has been reading him all this time. “Seems like you do have your own personal business to take care off,” she states wisely, hanging her helmet on the handlebar.

“Sure you can ride?” Dean checks with her. Zoë glances at him, but he isn’t mocking her, the oldest Winchester son actually has a solid point. She doesn’t feel great at all. Her head is still throbbing from the blow she took during her physical fight with Laura; she probably suffered a mild concussion. A 520 mile bike ride isn’t going to improve the ache in her bones either. She would love to go back into the Hampton Inn and get some sleep, which she normally does after an exhausting hunt. This time things are different, there’s just too little time. “I don’t have much of a choice,” she sighs. “I should get going.” “Be careful,” Sam offers. Zoë only responds with a smile and looks down at her biker boots. It’s funny, all this time she has been fighting the Winchester boys, but now that she’s about to leave, she’s lingering.

“I hope you’ll find John,” she says out of the blue. Surprised, the brothers take her in. Where did that come from? The huntress notices the surprise on their faces, because she continues to explain herself. “He’s your father. I know he can be a pain, but he’s family. Treasure that as long as you can.”

Sam watches Dean nod agreeing, and he too realizes that she’s right. The last time he saw his father, they had a huge argument. Ever since, he has been afraid that he might never see his dad again, that he will never get the chance to say he’s sorry. That’s what he is, because he regrets yelling at him, he regrets picking a fight. He knows he’s not the only one to blame, but he bailed on both his brother and his father and chose his own path. He stands by that decision still, but he does realize how much his actions hurt them. The youngest Winchester is done fighting his Dad, he just wants to make sure he’s alright. Zoë knows loss. She lost her father in an unforgivable and certainly unforgettable manner. It’s that fact that makes both Dean and Sam understand that these wise words are coming straight from the heart.

The huntress looks at them with a calm expression on her face, a satisfied one, and yet a glint of sadness is noticeable in her eyes. She doesn’t expect to see them ever again. Not wanting to wait until the goodbye becomes sentimental, Zoë kicks the ignition, the characteristic Harley Davidson rumbling loud in the night. Before she can put on her helmet, Dean calls out for her. “See you around.”

As he watches her response, Zoë keeps quiet. Not likely, she realizes, not pronouncing the words out loud. She gives them a last nod, pulls the helmet over her head, turns the throttle, and with a loud roar her Harley hits the highway. The brothers watch the single red taillight get smaller, then she disappears out of sight. Silently, they stare at the road ahead, both thinking about what she just said. Sam is the first one to reply to it.

“Did she just… say goodbye?” he checks, making sure he didn’t just interpret her words wrong. Dean doesn’t respond and forks his fingers together while leaning his forearms on top of the car. Pondering, he stares down the street. “As in… for good?” Sam adds.

He glances at his older sibling, who opens his car door. Sam takes his example and settles in the driver’s seat. Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac sounds from the speakers as soon as the younger Winchester turns the key in the ignition. “Are we going after her?” Sam wants to know, before he drives off. “No,” Dean responds, annoyed by the fact that for a split second, he was thinking about it himself. “She’s a big girl, Sam. She can take care of herself.” “That’s what you said last time,” his sibling bounces back. “That was just bad luck. It’s not our job to protect fellow hunters, it’s our job to protect innocents,” Dean brings to mind. “If Zoë's in trouble, she's innocent.” “Believe me, Sam. I believe Zoë is everything but innocent,” the oldest of the two disagrees.

“I don't know, man. I think she’s after something big, or something big is after her,” Sam sighs, staring through the windshield in the direction where Zoë vanished just moments ago. “So she’s onto a big fish,” Dean returns nonchalantly. “If she needs our help, she’ll call.” The driver scoffs. “No, she won’t.” Dean glances aside and observes his brother for a moment, confused by his brother’s motives. “I thought you were so determined to find Dad?” “I am,” Same confirms. “Then why the fuck do you care so much for some girl? We have better things to do. There’s a werewolf on the loose last time we checked and I don’t see why we should be bothering ourselves tracking down a hunter who’s fine on her own and is not keen on our company,” Dean rambles annoyed, after which he quotes her. ‘Whatever you do, do not follow me’. Her words, dude.”

Sam gives in with a huff; maybe he’s right. Zoë made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want them on her tail. Maybe they should just let her be. But deep inside he feels it eating at him. His gut tells him that something bad is going to happen to her. Contemplating on the choice, he stares ahead. “Seriously, if you want me to believe that you don’t have a major crush on her, you’ll have to do better than this.” Dean’s brows are raised as he looks aside.

His younger brother glares at him, but decides not to respond. Dean is making fun of it, but he’s not sure himself how he feels about Zoë. She’s such a mysterious girl, with a dark sense of humor and a peculiar personality. She’s fierce, rapid on the counter, sarcastic, confident, smart. An amazing huntress with a big heart, even though she might act like she couldn’t care less. He can’t help but to be curious about her. Why? He can’t put his finger on it. There’s a connection between them, if they like it or not.

Sam decides to change the subject, determining their new destination. “So? Waco then?” “Waco it is,” Dean agrees. Sam turns the Impala around, when they hear a strange clunk coming from the back of the car as he drives over a speed bump while exiting the parking lot of the Hampton Inn. Uh-oh, he realizes, assuming his brother heard it too. “What is that?” Dean says out loud, looking over his shoulder. “Did you close the trunk? Stop the car.”

Sam does as told and in the middle of the exit, Dean gets out. Sam stares in his back mirror, waiting for the inevitable. He already noticed the damage when loading up the car, but didn’t have the courage to tell the person who loves the Impala so dearly. That, and he wanted to give Zoë a head start. When he rolls down the window and pokes his head out, he sees Dean, boiling in rage. “What’s going on?” Sam asks, pretending to be unaware. He gets out and joins his brother, beholding the back of the Impala. The paint of the trunk is scratched, leaving the Chevrolet damaged by the shovel that Zoë used as leverage to break open the trunk. For a moment, Sam just stares at the car without saying a word. Dean, on the other hand, grits his teeth so hard that his brother can hear them grinding. His face looks like a volcano that is about to erupt as he clenches his fists, trying to contain his anger.

“Insulting Baby is one thing, but this -” Dean hisses furiously, “this is unforgivable. I’m gonna kill her, I am so gonna fucking kill her!” “Calm down,” Sam tries to ease him. “Calm down?! She fucked up MY CAR!!!” he shouts as he turns red.

He slams the trunk and pushes it down hard, but it doesn’t lock as it should. Then he strides back to the front and gets in on the passenger side again. Quickly, Sam sits down behind the wheel, not wanting to piss him off even more. Dean is about to detonate; one wrong move, comment or facial expression and he will explode. “Get the fuck going,” the owner of the classic car growls, squeezing the blood out of his hands around his cellphone, tempted to call perpertrator. Sam gulps, surprised that the device doesn’t break in half, and uncomfortably leans back before he hits the gas. The day that Dean got this car from Dad, he learned a very important lesson; if you mess with the Impala, you mess with Dean.

“For the record,” the older Winchester starts off. “This isn’t the last time we will see Sullivan.” “It isn’t?” Sam carefully questions. “Oh, we’ll see her again,” he snaps. “And I’m gonna kick her fine little ass when that time comes.”

Poor Zoë, Sam can’t help but to think. She’s probably laughing that same fine little ass off right at this very moment, as Dean so poetically described it. A part of him hopes they will indeed never run into her again, because she is going to feel his brother’s wrath. What are the odds anyway? America is a big country; she is only one of over 320 million people in this nation. Sam glances ahead into the dark night and grins, because something tells him that their paths will collide again. Maybe even sooner than expected.

Well, that’s it! Episode 2 is wrapped up, now on to the next one.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural OFC #Supernatural #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #dean winchester x ofc #Sam Winchester x ofc #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #STSS #In Bad Waters #1x02 In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

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not-poignant · 4 years ago

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Hey Pia hope you’re doing well

I was wondering, is the thing where Arden picks up a bunch of random hobbies and commitments a part of his ADHD or does it have like a name?

I’m a highschool student and I get told by all my friends and teachers that I have overcommitment issues and part of it’s just for uni and whatever ofc but it’s also that I want to do ALL THESE THINGS

Like I’m in 4 different science competition teams, the school debating team, school orchestra, scholarship classes, editor of my school newsletter, I lead the school amnesty and unicef clubs plus the IB program and being in the national maths Olympiad team lol and I don’t want to let any of these go but it’s so stressful and I’m so tired and ppl say I have to say no to stuff which is also stressful!

Also, doing more is always portrayed as such a great thing and I feel rlly guilty letting stuff go? So I’m just reaching out because you portrayed it in such a refreshing way and I was really curious!

Firstly, massive respect for your ability to fit this ask into the Tumblr ask limits. Seriously :D

Okay secondly, Arden’s habit of picking up a bunch of random hobbies / commitments is part of his ADHD. People with ADHD have this to different degrees, and my beta in particular relates really hard to this habit of Arden’s.

But actually, one of the reasons I put this in is because this is a very bad habit of mine - which is overcommitting, and overworking. And not wanting to let anything go.

People teach you a lot of skills in your life on how to pick things up, but almost no one teaches you what to do when you have many hobbies you love, and they’re hurting you because you’re working too hard and don’t have time for your loved ones (or to even really have loved ones) as an example. And it absolutely is a crucial skill to learn for people who are dealing with this, though capitalists don’t want you to learn it.

In the media what I see is most folks having no hobbies and someone being ‘oh you have to learn some.’ I liked Arden as a contrast to that ‘no, that’s too many things, put some back.’ Where Arden’s ADHD manifests - though it’s much more controlled than it used to be - is that he desires to spend a lot of money on the thing as soon as he gets into it (because he only wants the best of the best - which wasn’t great when he wasn’t earning much money), and that he starts really hooking into it in an obsessive kind of way. Spending a night making bows for your dog is one thing. Then wanting to spend $500 and start an Etsy store small business is like...from one day of work, not great.

A lot of Arden’s life has involved choosing to let go of things he’s loved doing, for his own sanity. This is something I’ve had to do as well and I fucking hate it, and these are the techniques I’ve developed for myself (and my still frankly overcommitted ass, who has people saying ‘when are you going to do LESS’ all the time to my face).

* Remind yourself that dropping some things now doesn’t mean you’re dropping them forever. It doesn’t have to be permanent. Sometimes it’s good to put a time limit on something. ‘I’m going to drop this for four weeks / four months and put a note/reminder in my phone about it right now.’ Chances are high you are not going to be as interested in that thing in four weeks/four months. (Chances are sadly also high you may have replaced it with something else). Like, there will be science groups you can join for the rest of your life. And debate groups. And newsletters.

(That being said, none of those things count towards our grades in Australia? So I don’t know how much these things are counting towards your grades in general and I’m not going to like, touch that side of things - however overcommitment is a super fast way to do a lot of things not that well, or to suddenly get so sick you can’t do any of the things and then feel terrible while you’re sick, more on that later!).

* Time caps on certain hobbies and activities and commitments. This is to actually shoot my habit of hyperfocusing in the foot. I don’t have time to play piano for four hours, but I’m allowed to play it for ten minutes a day (sometimes more but not often). And ten minutes a day adds up over time. I literally sit down and put the timer on my phone. If say there’s something that meets up twice a week but some people only go once, be one of those people!

* Rate the things based on how they contribute to your a) career and b) quality of life and c) happiness. Anything that rates lower on the list compared to the others (that isn’t like, literal money-making work or literal classes) needs to be dropped.

* Dropping things is just actually one of the hardest parts and there’s no real trick to making this easier. I just remind myself: ‘Just because I can do this thing, and do this thing well, doesn’t mean it’s good or healthy for me to do this thing. I need to spend time with people I care about, and I need rest, and those things matter more even if they feel less like ‘accomplishments.’ I want to care for myself through my hobbies, not punish myself.’ That goes some way in keeping perspective, but look, ngl, it sucks to drop commitments if you have an accomplishment/achievement/job satisfaction addiction. It just sucks.

* Accept that you are going to feel guilty, and that guilt is just an emotion, and it doesn’t mean you’ve done something bad. Look sometimes guilt gets it wrong! Sometimes you feel crushingly guilty just for breaking a bad habit, it’s not useful, you just have to kind of be like ‘huh I’m feeling a lot of guilt for trying to look after myself, that’s really interesting, I guess I can understand that but I’m also going to try and praise myself for doing a great job. Just because this isn’t an obvious kind of achievement, I know I achieved something really big and difficult today.’

* Oh yeah, use achievement and ‘job’ type language for doing things that involve successfully taking care of yourself and your energy levels. Just...sometimes you have to ‘if you can’t beat them join them’ - chances are you’ve never been as kind to yourself or proud of yourself for resting and taking it easy and seeing friends, than you are for taking on too many commitments. So...challenge yourself to be kind to yourself and proud of yourself for resting and taking it easy and seeing friends and committing to less. Trust me, you are never going to forget how to overcommit, and you are never going to become lazy or lax because you dropped a few of the (billion) things that you’re committed to. You can afford to praise yourself for this! And generously!

* Seriously, seriously consider seeing doctors or psychologists about this. Despite a TON of PTSD, I actually see my therapist most for working too hard and overcommitting. We spend a lot of time talking about why I might not be the worst person in the world for taking a break. Take it seriously. Your list alone made me feel like I was about to have a panic attack, lmao, your friends and teachers are right, you have overcomittment issues.

* Workaholicism and work addiction is real. There is a growing amount of information about how to deal with it and it’s worth googling.

***

Er anyway that’s what I do. It doesn’t always work. I have a lot of rules in place and I abandon half of them about halfway through the year and then s u f f e r. And have been doing that for over 25 years and I’m going to say bluntly now - it’s why I’m as sick as I am, and some of that sickness is irreversible. If nothing else, if you want to stay as active as you are now, I do not recommend that anyone push themselves so hard that they can no longer even do things that they enjoy on a regular basis, because they’re too physically debilitated to manage it, because they pushed their bodies too hard during the university years and just after. Because that is 100% why I became so sick in the first place.

And even extremely healthy people who have no history of chronic illness often develop something, in conjunction with years and years of working too hard or overcommitting. I’ve seen it happen to far too many of my friends, and you might feel like ‘just another six months’ or ‘just another three years’ but you’d be surprised how quickly you can go from ‘I’m doing it I’m doing it’ to ‘I keep getting migraines all the time doctor how do I fix this so I can go back to working as hard as I was before’ and your doctor being like ‘...yeah this isn’t curable. I’m going to give you some meds, that all come with horrible side effects, and you simply can’t do what you were doing before.’ Game over.

Trust me, that shit catches up with your body always. It might not be now, and I hope frankly it’s never, but overcommitment and workaholicism are the two fastest ways I know to chronic illness and once you get there, you can’t work your way out of it again.

Though god knows I have tried.

#asks and answers #personal #workaholicism #work addiction #like if you start stress grinding your teeth #for years #because you can't sleep well #because you're working too hard #trust me that will be over ten years of absolute misery and agony #as you crack your own teeth #because once you start stress grinding #you never stop #oh one final thing to keep in mind #you have been brainwashed by capitalist rhetoric #to believe that working is the greatest virtue out there #if you don't want to be a capitalist stooge for big business #unpacking overcommitment psychologically #even outside of impulse issues #can be pretty meaningful #but expect to need to do it more than once #because you will get that brainwashing all around you #for the rest of your life #(it's like body shaming sadly it's just everywhere)#some of my friends are going to read this advice and be like #WHY AREN'T YOU DOING IT PIA #tons of sympathy anon it's hard as fuck #seriously anon if you don't want to spend your life with a fucked up body FOREVER #learn some crucial skills now #administrator Gwyn wants this in the queue #Anonymous

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comrade-meow · 3 years ago

Link

“If men could get pregnant,” Gloria Steinem famously said, “abortion would be a sacrament.” But we live in a new world — one wherein men can get pregnant, which has made things a little bit awkward for those fighting for abortion rights (though they refuse to acknowledge it). Today, it’s important not to exclude “men” from the abortion debate, as “men” can get pregnant too.

“Gentle reminder,” Imani Gandy tweeted last month, “it’s not only women who need abortions.” Gandy is Senior Editor of Law and Policy for Rewire News Group, once called RH Reality Check, Rewire has been focused on the abortion fight and reproductive rights since 2009. Today, they publish articles like, “Medical Students Are ‘Driving’ for Change Over Gender-Inclusive Language,” which tells the story of “Sam,” a trans-identified female whose pregnancy symptoms were, we are told, not taken seriously because she was not a “cis woman.” Rewire writer Alys Brooks concludes that “Sam’s story illustrates not only the high stakes of accurately communicating a patient’s gender and their sex assigned at birth, but also the need for health-care providers to factor those details into clinical decision-making.”

Medical students are “driving and demanding” changes to the med school curriculum that “better accounts for transgender patients,” Brooks reports. Which includes “degendering”: replacing terms like “pregnant women” with “pregnant people.”

Biology professor’s like Karen Hales, who is employed at Davidson College in North Carolina, have moved towards replacing “mother” and “father” with “egg parent” and “sperm parent.”

In truth, “Sam” had failed to inform the nurse that she was female, identifying herself as “transgender” and, even worse, her medical records showed she was a “man.”

To me, this exemplifies the false propanganda pushed by trans activists and the complicit media, constantly claiming incidents of “transphobia,” which are, in fact, simply about either people who identify as transgender being correctly sexed, or about people lying about their sex, thereby confusing the sane.

“Sam” was not treated ineffectively at the hospital because she claims to be “transgender,” but because it is imperative that medical professionals know the sex of their patients, and “Sam” had been informed by the government and trans activists that it was not only acceptable but necessary to her survival and happiness that she lie about her sex.

The notion that what is needed is to “degender” (which actually means “desex”) patients is ludicrous. Health care professionals need basic information about a patient’s biology/sex, easily communicated by using the (correct) language that already exists: female/male, woman/man, he/she. Imposing gender identity ideology on medicine and biology is clearly confusing, not clarifying, matters.

~~~

On Saturday, thousands gathered across America to protest Senate Bill 8, which was passed in Texas last month and allows people to sue anyone who helps a woman get an abortion after six weeks. While the conversation about abortion should be extended beyond the “legal” vs “illegal” one — a conversation too complex for this particular piece, but that I will say is oversimplified and limited by the notion that women should be reliant on the medical establishment in order to have autonomy over their bodies and reproductive choices — I of course disagree with a law allowing those who “help” women get abortions to be sued. But what is worse is the fact that so many of those fighting this legislation refuse to say that this is an issue affecting only women.

If you can’t understand or say that abortion only impacts women, you cannot fight effectively for abortion rights.

There is a reason men have attempted to control women’s bodies, autonomy, and reproduction all these years, and that is because of biology. ***In an evolutionary sense, men need to know if their offspring is indeed their offspring, in order to stick around. They have an evolutionary drive to spread their seed, as it were, and they don’t (again, in an evolutionary sense, perhaps not an ideal/moral one) wish to invest their time in a family that isn’t “theirs.”*** This is why men decided to keep women in the home and out of public life, gallivanting with other men who might impregnate them. If women have control over their reproductive choices, it limits men’s ability to control women and keep them dependent/in the home, tied up with baby-making/raising.

I am oversimplifying, but the point I am trying to make is that only females can get pregnant, which is why men have tried to control their bodies and lives, historically, and is the basis for women’s historic oppression.

Women were never kept in the home, their autonomy limited, because they grew their hair long, wore skirts, put lipstick on, or named themselves “Caitlin” or “Alana.” Nor have women ever been able to opt out of historical oppression by wearing pants or cutting their hair short. Their status remains vulnerable because they are biologically female. Modern, Western civilization and legislation has protected women from institutional oppression, but the fact of pregnancy still means we may be vulnerable to, well, having little control over our lives. Abortion and our ability to control if and when we get pregnant offers us some control over our life circumstances and freedom.

This all seems like basic feminist information, but has become invisibilized by trans activism and its woke disciples. At abortion rallies across the nation, trans activists insisted on disrupting what should be unequivocally woman-centered activism to remind participants that this was not just a women’s issue as “men need abortions too.” In Washington, trans-identified athlete and activist, Schuyler Bailar, said:

“This is a women’s issue, and it is also a transgender man’s issue. It is also a nonbinary person’s issue. It is also a gender queer, gender fluid, transmasculine person’s issue. This is about all of us.”

And, yes, pregnancy and therefore abortion could well affect anyone who identifies as any of these things, but that still doesn’t mean men need abortions. It just means only females will ever want to access an abortion, making Bailar’s entire statement unnecessary. Pregnancy doesn’t care how you feel about gender roles or about how you identify. The only thing that matters is your biology.

You might think it is merely “polite” or “inclusive” to discuss pregnancy and abortion in gender neutral terms, or to remind people that “men can get pregnant too,” but what you lose in doing so is massive: why this matters and is a fight in the first place. It is also, of course, embarrassing and farcical, and makes a mockery of women’s rights advocates. Who could possibly take seriously an activist (or reporter, or politician, or academic, or health authority) who demands female autonomy while also insisting that “men can become pregnant”?

Young women in particular have completely lost the history of and context for the women’s movement, and, as a result, are losing hard fought for rights. That they’ve allowed themselves to be bamboozled by a group of narcissists who have zero interest in women’s rights and are so privileged they can manage to occupy their time with academic notions of “gender,” rather than the material circumstances of their lives, is shameful, and demonstrates how thoroughly out of touch they are with the current and past real life struggles of women across the globe.

Erasing women from the fight for reproductive rights should be sacrilege, but instead it has become doctrine. Women’s rights will continue to disappear in front of our eyes so long as women continue to go along with this nonsense ideology. If you can’t even acknowledge what a woman is and what rights are particular to females, your role in this fight is a joke.

***replace evolution with class society imo***

#Anglo.txt

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morgansyorkie · 5 years ago

Text

Too Afraid of Losing You ~ Nolan Patrick

Summary: You’re a med student and you had to graduate early due to the Corona Virus pandemic happening in the Philadelphia area. You have been working insane hours and the exhaustion from it all has definitely took a toll not only on you, but on your boyfriend Nolan Patrick well. You both have come to realization on truly how each of you mean to one another and how much you need one another during this difficult time.

Word Count: 3,660

Disclaimer: this is my first writing that I am posting, I hope that you all in enjoy it and would love to get any kind of feed back. Thank you :) Also thank you to @quinny-boy-hughes and @kravistonecny for giving my the courage to write and post this!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who would have thought that two months ago your normal life as a med student was going to change, but change in a way you never thought could happen. Sleeping was starting to become more and more difficult nor it never came at all. You frequently found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night or during the day depending on your crazy schedule. The world as you knew it was changing and not in a good way, your school decided to let all medical students graduate early if they chose to due to the pandemic that was happening here in America.

Sixteen hours...sixteen hours later you were finally walking into your apartment in downtown Philadelphia feeling completely exhausted and worn out. Your shift was only supposed to be from 7 pm to 7 am a normal twelve hour nurse-based shift, but with the amount of cases that were pilling in overnight, your team had to work overtime to make sure there was enough room for everyone coming in. You quickly kicked your shoes off and headed straight to the bathroom so you can remove your uniform and jump into the hot scolding shower. As you were removing your clothing you noticed a note and a single red rose laying on the countertop of the sink. “You’re so amazing and I’m so proud of you” Love always Nolan

As exhausted as you were, you couldn’t help but smile at the little gesture that your beyond amazing boyfriend Nolan has done for you. Nolan is your absolute everything in this world, he has seen you go through so much while attending med school and knowing that your graduating year had to be cut short due to the Corona Virus outbreak put a toll on the both of you. He was looking forward to watching you walk across the stage and finally getting that diploma that you’ve worked so damn hard for. He was looking forward for after graduation to settle down some and enjoy sometime together and maybe start planning your guys future together before you landed your official nursing job at University of Penn. He was even in talks to the guys about proposing to you when the time was right, but now that’s all thrown out the window due to this insane virus that no one has control over.

Once you got out of the shower, you changed into some sweats and one of Nolan’s hoodies that he totally sprayed his cologne with overnight to make sure that it smelled exactly like him. You walked out of the bathroom and was surprised to see Nolan still spread out in your guys bed peacefully sleeping. Must have been a long night of video games, if he is still sound asleep at this time of the day. As much as you desperately needed sleep you didn’t want to disrupt your boyfriend so you headed towards the spare bedroom and crawled under the blankets. You turned to lay on your side but the scarring on your face made you jolt some, but after a while the cooling of the pillowcases felt good against your beat-up face.

Nolan rolled over and looked at his phone which had a bunch of notifications that he could care less about, he saw that it was almost noon. He opened his text’s and saw that the last text from you was around eleven in the morning stating you were finally clocking out and heading home. But it’s almost been an hour since that text and he doesn’t understand why you’re not home lying in bed next to him. He got up and walked out of the room “Y/N? Y/N you home”? He asked in a low mumble tone. When there was no response, he got worried, he was about to grab his phone to call you when he noticed the guest bedroom door slightly closed and the bag with your scrubs in it laying out in the hall way. Seeing the bag out in the hall way made his nerves calm down a bit, he softly opened the guest bedroom door and saw you peacefully laying in the bed sleeping. He was glad to have you home safe, but he would be lying if he wasn’t a little hurt for the fact that you were sleeping in the guest bed instead of next to him in your guys bed.

You were finally getting some good sleep for once until you heard the loud ringing coming the night stand next to you. You sat up and rubbed your eyes a few times before answering the phone.

“Hello?” You answered still half a sleep.

“Y/N” I am so so sorry to wake you; I know how worn out you must be but I need you to come in for another overnight shift tonight. We just got about another 100 or so cases that rolled in from the time that you left and it’s getting out of hand here. We are going to need all hands-on deck tonight and tomorrow.” Your boss explained to you.

You had no choice, you had to go in this is what you signed up for. Well not this exactly, but you knew that becoming a nurse meant you were going to have some really tough days and nights.

“Yes, of course I’ll be there for shift change at seven tonight” You said in mid-stretch and getting ready to hop out of bed since it was just pass three thirty in the afternoon.

“Ugh thank you so much Y/N see you later hun.” Your boss said quickly and hung up

You walked out of the bedroom and headed towards the living room and kitchen area. You might as well start planning on cooking a big meal since you don’t know when the next time you will be able to eat a proper meal next. You saw Nolan sitting on the couch with his gaming headset on, trying his best not to yell into the mic at the person on the other end which was most likely Travis and maybe Carter.

“Dude Trav what the fuck are you doing? You just shot me I am on your team you stupid idiot, such a dumbass, god you are so fucking bad at Call of Duty.” Nolan said into his headset.

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself and shake your head at the site of Nolan. You walked over and leaned over the back of the couch to run your hand through Nolan’s hair and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen.

“Hey guys, I gotta go.” Nolan said as quickly as he could before shutting down the game and throwing his headset onto the coffee table.

You’d just finished getting out some pots and pans to start preparing a meal of spaghetti and meatballs when a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped themselves around your torso and a nose nuzzled into your neck.

“Done your game already.” You said giggling.

“Why were you in the spare bedroom?” Nolan questioned, as he spun you around so he could properly kiss you.

“I slept in the guest room because you took up the whole bed and you looked so damn cute and peaceful that I didn’t want to disrupt that. It's been so hard for me to even get a good night’s and in this case a good day’s worth of sleep lately so when I was done showering and found you sprawled out, you looked so peaceful. That I didn’t have the heart to ruin your beauty sleep in case I couldn’t fall asleep.”

I appreciate that babe…but I missed you.” Nolan breathed. “Was worried that something happened to you or that something had happened at the hospital.”

“Nah…never.” You insisted. “Not when I have you here to come home to after a long exhausting shift at work.”

With Nolan’s arms bringing you closer to him and him resting his head over your shoulder you sighed softly.

“Baby, what’s wrong and why are you cooking now? I thought that we were just going to snuggle and relax tonight and order some take out.” Nolan said as he played with your hair

“Plans changed...” You said barely above a whisper

“Y/n? What’s going on?” Nolan asked while stepping next to you so he can get a good read at the expression on your face. He knows how exhausted, worn out and beat up you have been lately. Seeing all of scars on your face every time you walk through that door reminds him how serious this virus actually is, it reminds him how scared he is that you are on the front lines during this time and how he doesn’t exactly know what you are battling every day, hour and minute.

“My boss called...hundreds of more cases came flooding in after I left the hospital, we need all hands-on deck. So, I have to head back down to the hospital later for another overnight shift.” You spoke softly as you pour the pasta into the boiling water and went to the freezer to grab the bag of meatballs.

“Y/n...no you were supposed to have the rest of the evening off, you weren’t supposed to go back into work until tomorrow morning. We were finally supposed have a relaxing night together, I feel like I don’t get to see you anymore.” Nolan said grabbing your hand squeezing it tight afraid that he might never get another relaxing night with you again.

“Patty, trust me I more than anyone in this world want that. I just want to crawl onto the couch and in your lap and just wish this horrible nightmare of a virus away, but it’s not like that. It’s getting worse by the hour and minute it seems like now and I just can’t say no. I just can not just not show up when there are higher doctors and nurses out there who never really get chance to go home and see their families and loved ones.” You said squeezing his hand back and kissing his soft lips to reassure him how much you love him.

“Here why don’t I finish dinner and we can sit outside on the balcony and enjoy some fresh air…” Nolan said picking up the ladle. “Then we can have a little cuddle session before you have to leave for the night.”

“‘Deal.” You said in agreement, while quickly rising up onto your tippy toes to plant a kiss onto Nolan’s lips before grabbing the place settings for outside. Being a med student wasn’t easy, but it was certainly easier with Nolan by your side the whole entire time. Now being a freshly new nurse isn’t easy either especially during this pandemic time, but again it was certainly a lot easier with Nolan by your side.

Nolan brought out dinner and you two just shared the moment that you were in. Eating a great dinner together while enjoying each other’s company and looking off into the cities sun. Every now and then you would glance over and give Nolan an adorable look and smile. He would try to give you the same reassuring glance back, but you knew there was something off with him. His eyes didn’t have that sparkle or shine to them like they normally do and it worried you.

After dinner, you joined Nolan in the lounge chair that he was sitting on and crawled in between his legs so your back was snuggled up to his chest and he could tightly wrap his arms around you.

“I can’t wait for this new normal to be over. I can’t wait to actually get my diploma and hopefully have an actual ceremony or at least party to celebrate my hard work with our friends and family. I can’t wait to see what an actual regular day of work is going to look like, a day where I don’t have to wear protective gear 24/7 and have to social distance myself from everything and everyone that I love.”

“Can’t wait for that too...” Nolan said barely above a whisper

Nolan’s voice alarmed you, you spun around so you were facing him. You looked up at Nolan and could see a sea of tears forming in eyes and a few slightly falling down his face.

“Nolan, baby are you okay, baby what’s wrong you’re worrying me.” You said grabbing onto his shoulder and running your hand through his hair.

“No..I’m not okay y/n... I’m scared...I’m scared as hell.” He said mumbling

“Scared about what Nols? Baby please talk to me; you’re really worrying me here. I have never seen you like this.” You said wiping a tear away from his face

“I’m scared to death of losing you Y/N. Ever since this virus has gotten more and more out of control it has frightened me more each and every single day. Every time you walk out of our door it kills me not knowing if that will ever be the last time that I get to see your face, hold you and kiss you. I’m so damn afraid that one of these days you aren’t going to be walking through those doors again and right into my arms. I can’t imagine my life without you Y/N, I’m so incredibly proud of you don’t get me wrong you’re a fucking super hero in my eyes but you’re also my girlfriend who I’m madly in love with who one day I hope to make my wife and the mother of my children. It’s like I need that reassurance to know that every time you leave to fight this virus that you’ll be able to come home back to me. It's why I have arguments with my mother on daily occasions about why I decided to stay here instead of flying back home because of the season being postponed. It’s because in reality I could never live with myself if I did that and god forbid something happened to you and I wasn’t here and I couldn’t get to you! It’s why I leave you little notes with a rose in the bathroom so when you come home you know that I was thinking about you the whole entire time you were on the front lines at work. As much as you hate not being able to sleep properly lately, I kind of love it because I can be there to protect and comfort you through it all y/n. I feel better when I have you tightly in my arms, I feel better when I’m able to look at you from a far, I feel better when I can play with your hair and kiss your lips. Over all I’m a better person when I am with you, if you don’t believe ask Travis and Carter, they have heard it all.” Nolan said full on breaking down at this point

You have never seen Nolan this vulnerable before, in all the years that you have been dating. It killed you to see this side of him, you never realized how much this was also affecting him until now.

You grabbed his face with both of your hands and kissed him like you have never kissed him before. You pulled away and leaned your forehead against his and wiped away a few more tears. “Nolan Patrick, I promise you I will always come back home to you.” You said looking straight into those gorgeous eyes that you love so much.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was 7:05 in the morning, you were hoping to run into your boss so she can give you the all clear to head home. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen until a few hours and a break down alone in the hall way later. Your one coworker made sure to give Nolan an update every so often to let him know and that you were alright even though you weren’t. But she didn’t want to worry him anymore than he already was, plus she did it since you were too busy running around and forgot to leave your phone on the charging station to charge.

One O’clock...One O’clock in the afternoon that is the time that the clock read when you were able to finally clock out for the day. An eighteen-hour shift was way more than enough that you could ever possibly handle. You looked into the mirror and could barely recognize the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t you, this woman had dark bruised circles and lines around and under her eyes. This woman had broken and cracked lines on her cheek bones, where her mask had laid and dug into her. The only good thing that is coming out from these past horrific days is that your boss was giving you the next few days off to rest and compose yourself.

You drove yourself home and the moment you parked your car in the garage exhaustion took a new total on you. You didn’t member the elevator ride up to your floor, you didn’t remember walking down the hall to your apartment door and noticing all of the lovely and cute little notes that the children on your floor made for you and hung on the front door for you to see every day. You didn’t remember walking in and taking off your shoes and heading straight to the bathroom to take your routine hot shower. The only thing that brought you back to normal thought and time was the strong arms of Nolan wrapping you up tight into his arms while leaning next you on the cool bathroom floor.

“Shh, let it all out baby. It’s okay y/n I’m here..I’m here. Just please talk to me.” Nolan said while kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulder

“In the eighteen hours that I have worked I have seen way too many deaths than I ever wanted to see in my life Nolan. People are dying alone..because their loved ones aren’t allowed to come in contact with them. Its people of all ages young and old. Some I stood by their side because it broke my heart that they were dying alone. I broke down in a hallway at work, because I don’t understand how we are going to continue to fight this. You aren’t the only one who is completely scared to death, I am too. I am scared just as much as you are about not being able to return home and being able to crash into your arms. Nurses are already starting to get tested for the virus in different departments and floors and I’m so worried that soon we will have to be tested. I’m trying not to think of the worse, but what if I get tested and I’m positive I can’t imagine never being able to see or talk to you again. You deserve so much better”

Nolan brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, brushed the falling tears away from your cheek with his thumb and turned your face so you were looking right at him. “Don’t think like that baby, you are one strong woman. Each and every single day I find more and more reasons to fall in love with you. This pandemic made me realize to appreciate and love the little things in life more, to hold and adore your loved ones a lot closer. I can’t imagine what you and your staff are going through day in and day out but know that I will always be here waiting for you, so I can ease your mind and try my best to take it all away from you. If anyone deserves better it’s you y/n, I’m just a bonehead professional hockey player. But you, you are a talented young woman changing the world every single time you out walk of this apartment. Here come with me, I have something I want to show you and I think that it will make you feel a lot better.” Nolan said picking you up and carrying you into your guys bedroom and placing you onto the bed.

Nolan took out his iPad and handed it over to you and started playing a video for you. It was a video that the entire Flyers team put together thanking you for everything that you are doing during this crazy and difficult time. Even Gritty made a special appearance for you in the video which told made you light up and giggle. They even went on and talked about how such an amazing person you are and how much you mean to not only Nolan but to them as well. They were so grateful and thankful for you and it warmed your heart so much to hear them say it. The video ended with Nolan obviously getting emotional about much he is so proud of you and how he can’t believe that you were willing to get your degree early and risk your entire life just to save others without any hesitation.

Once the video ended you looked at Nolan and thanked him, this is what you needed to help you get through these times.

“I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us, if we can get through this together than we sure can get through anything in life together.” You said leaning in and closing the gap between you with a kiss

“As long as I have you in my arms, I don’t care where life take us. I realized that as long as you’re in my life that I have officially won no what matter. You’re my absolute everything y/n and I wouldn’t change it in a heartbeat.” Nolan said cupping your cheek and kissing you passionately

Nolan was right, as long as you had each other you knew you were always going to be safe and have strong arms to come decompose home too.

#Nolan Patrick #Philadelphia Flyers #Nolan blurb #nolan patrick imagine #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #flyers hockey #thank you nurses and doctors

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taylorswiftdiscographyrate · 4 years ago

Text

#140-131

140. Starlight (5.688) Highest score was 8; Lowest score was 0 (@inweedsferociously)

Taylor’s Kennedy fanfiction unfortunately doesn’t cut it for a lot of people. At a stretch, this song might be considered a precursor to The Last Great American Dynasty with its focus on historical storytelling. But where TLGAD has a strong thematic link to the rest of the album it belongs to (we’ll go more into that when we get to her!), Starlight is definitely an outlier in Red, and perhaps that contributes to the not-so-positive feelings towards it.

Highlighted comments: @inweedsferociously: “This song has always sounded super tacky to me and reminds me so much of the melodic composition of another song that already exists - hence the zero” @yourivysgrows: “She's cute but forgettable??”

138. Untouchable & The Man (5.700) Untouchable: Highest score was 8; Lowest score was 3 The Man: Highest score was 9; Lowest score was 1

We have our first tie! Untouchable is the only cover that I included in the rate, and for good reason - Taylor transforms this song so much from the original that she was even granted a writing credit for it! Taylor truly made this song her own.

Highlighted comments: @corneliaavenue: “I dont think I can describe the disappointment I had when I learned this song was a cover” @yourivysgrows: “I had no clue this was a cover but it's beautiful”

As for The Man, there’s a lot I could say about The Man, but I won’t because I’m not trying to start fights here (well, I am, but only the fun kind of fights, not the serious kind of fights). It is a delight to hear Taylor drop her very first instance of “bitch” in a song though! And irregardless of what you think of the music video, the makeup work in it deserves all the accolades.

Highlighted comments: @treacherousdemo: “the bridge is the saving grace of this one.. does not excuse the production though” (once again, we have something to blame Joel Little for) @corneliaavenue: “the lyrics are great, the production is god awful” (see above!) @liabilitys: “i overhyped it when it first comes out. its a good song as long as we dont view it as a feminist anthem.”

137. I’m Only Me When I’m With You (5.763) Highest score was 7.5; Lowest score was 3

It’s time for me to be mad again! If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from doing this, it’s how much you all play Debut and Fearless dust. This is a bop! It’s fun and happy and deserves better than you lot!

Highlighted comments: @yourivysgrows: “The personally made video 🥺” (yes! Here is the link for the uninitiated)

136. How You Get the Girl (5.772) Highest score was 8.5; Lowest score was 2

The best thing to come out of this song was the tour performance, to be honest. For a long time the love for this song in the fandom felt overblown because of it, but it seems like the hype has mostly died down to a regular level.

Highlighted comments: @yourivysgrows: “A manual that most men don't use sadly 😭”

135. epiphany (5.788) Highest score was 9.5; Lowest score was 1

Sigh... I suppose this was to be expected. epiphany has always kind of been the unloved child of the otherwise very-much-loved folklore parent album. I think this is a beautiful song that discusses death in a very nuanced and timely manner, but I can respect why this song isn’t for everyone.

Highlighted comments: @corneliaavenue: “as an online med school student, there is a lot that med school isn't covering right now” @yourivysgrows: “Had no right to make me cry”

134. Beautiful Ghosts (5.919) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 0 (@itspeterlosingwendy)

This song’s biggest sin is that it reminds us that the Cats movie exists, and that Taylor willingly chose to be a part of it. And it’s very transparent Oscar bait (and transparent Oscar bait that didn’t even work, at that!). Be grateful that I didn’t force you all to listen to and rate Macavity.

Highlighted comments: @itspeterlosingwendy: “look.... it's just...... not good. i'll go a round with anyone who gives this higher than a 4″ (there’s plenty of you out there who did, who wants to volunteer for a 1v1 with maddie?) @treacherousdemo: “if it weren't for "chonces" and being associated with cats this could've been like a 9 rip” @liabilitys: “this fandom ignores this song sm but lyrically its such a good song!” (unfortunately i think that’s a consequence of us just ignoring the entirety of Cats lol)

133. It’s Nice to Have a Friend (5.931) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 0 (@tobesolonely)

In an album of bops and bangers, It’s Nice to Have a Friend stands out for its understatedness and non-traditional structure. It fits perfectly as the penultimate song on the album - after the rollercoaster that is the Lover tracklist, it’s a calm interlude before the final act of Daylight. In my mind, INTHAF is essential to the album, but alas, many of you are tasteless and here we are.

Highlighted comments: @tobesolonely: “this song literally just sounds incomplete and the disdain i have for it is unreal.” @yourivysgrows: “I like how different it is”

132. Teardrops on My Guitar (5.934) Highest score was 9; Lowest score was 1

Another example of Taylor holding nothing back and straight up naming this guy she had a crush on (and who already had a girlfriend!). The story about Drew eventually showing up at Taylor’s house after this song released, only for Taylor to be like “not interested anymore sorry!” is honestly hilarious. Poor Drew.

Highlighted comments: @itspeterlosingwendy: “it's just.... not it” @everfolk: “this song is such a banger and it STILL holds up today like the talent?? even on her debut album” @yourivysgrows: “Probably my favorite off of debut”

131. Everything Has Changed (ft. Ed Sheeran) (5.956) Highest score was 8.5; Lowest score was 1

The fandom’s hatred of Ed Sheeran rears its ugly head again, as this song places a lot lower than I believe it otherwise would. It’s funny to think of how positively people viewed Ed back in the Red era, when “Sweeran” was well-liked. As someone who neither likes nor dislikes Ed Sheeran, I do wonder if he and Taylor are still friends, and if not, how the rerecording of this one is gonna go.

Highlighted comments: @everfolk: [after giving the song a 1] “please im begging” @yourivysgrows: “My favorite Ed x Taylor”

#results

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago

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Could I pretty please request Zen and MC ~platonically~ getting hammered together and just getting into shenanigans? I’m a ✨lesbian✨ and still reslly would love to have these characters as best friends, especially zen because he seems like such a ride or die. If I could have one wish it would be getting plastered with Zen and him making sure I don’t die. Thank you in advance and feel free to reject this one lol

Yes !!! Ofc I can do that :) also I have literally never rejected a request LMAO I’m here for your enjoyment. I’m rlly excited to write this bc everyone is SLEEPING on zen and also ?? The Zen friendship content in Jumin’s route? I’ll never shut up about how much I love it. Also I threw Yoosung in here too pls don’t hate me

Clubbing - Platonic! Zen

Warnings: alcohol (duh lmao)

Summary: you’ve had a rough day at work. Zen’s been meaning to show you around to some of his favorite bars. Zen’s responsible but also wouldn’t hesitate to punch a bitch if need be. Yoosung has to clean up after your messes

Oh! Also. PSA, I’m 19. So have I ever gone out and gotten drunk... no LMAO. I do drink (it’s legal where I’m at as long as you’re with your parents, still wouldn’t be able to drink in a bar though) but only enough to get buzzed usually. Anyway if this is inaccurate that’s why I am so sorry LMAO

You honestly had had the worst day today. It was a pretty bad week, truth be told, and you were so grateful it was the weekend. You texted Zen a lot throughout this week; the two of you had become close friends since the RFA party and hung out almost every weekend. Hearing all about your bad days, he suggested taking you to a bar to let off some steam and give you something to look forward to. You’d never turn down a drink.

You took an Uber to the bar, as did Zen. You expressed your desire to get plastered and Zen agreed wholeheartedly. You had never been to this bar before, but Zen swore by it, so you trusted him.

“Hey!” Zen exclaimed as he saw you get out of the car. He was leaning against the wall of the bar coolly, dressed in the leather jacket he must have pulled out of his closet from the time he was in a motorcycle gang.

“This better be worth the commute,” you teased, not letting him live down the fact that it took almost an hour to get here (primarily due to traffic honestly).

“Oh it will,” he had a giant grin on his face. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t been here in a while, but i doubt it’s changed.” He pushed himself off the wall and made his way inside alongside you. “It’s right outside of a college so you get all the fun college students here.”

“Sounds messy,” you commented, glancing at some girls in skimpy crop tops and high-waisted shorts getting drunk already.

“Much better than bars for real adults. You’ve always got some guy moping over a glass of whiskey in those. Here, it’s all singing and dancing and getting drunk. Of course, I only come when I want to get completely hammered, but it’s always fun. The kids are nice too.”

It was at this point that you reminded yourself that Zen was only 23. He seemed so much older because he’s been on his own for so long, but nope, he was 23. The same age as a lot of the grad students here. So partying with them was not weird or creepy in any sort of way. In fact, the students probably were over the moon to party with someone so famous and, if they weren’t aware of who he was, handsome.

“So what do you typically start with here?” You asked, wanting to get the full experience.

“Shots. Classic move, especially for the med school students. You’ll see them soon enough. They start off with fireball but then make their way down to the cheapest vodka they have as they get more drunk and can’t actually taste it.”

“Let’s follow their influence,” you suggested. Zen went up to the bar and ordered some shots, bringing four glasses back with him. “Do they normally do two at once?” You asked.

“Nah, they’re way too broke for that. But I thought it’d be fun.” He handed you your shot glass and clinked his against it. You gulped down the shot, feeling the familiar fire burn in your throat. (I love fireball LMAO) You shook your head vigorously to counteract the burn, as though that would help, then looked back at Zen. “Good?” He asked.

“Perfect. Round 2?”

“Already?”

You laughed. “Well, it’s here isn’t it? The faster we can get drunk the better.”

You got drunk pretty fast. Zen was constantly handing you drinks, which of course you didn’t turn down. Maybe it was because the two of you hadn’t gotten drunk in a while, but this one hit you hard.

“Will you sing karaoke with me?” Zen chuckled, his cheeks flushed from all the alcohol in his system.

You laughed out loud. “Sure. I’ll even let you pick the song.”

You did not expect him to pick “Before He Cheats” but honestly? A banger of a song. Who doesn’t know all the words to this song?? “Hey, I’m Zen, and this is my best friend,” he slurred out, introducing you before the song started.

You sang in unison, the first instrumental break coming out. “This is for my asshole ex!” You cheered. The college students cheered with you.

“And all my old managers who told me I’d never make it!” Zen added. Everyone cheered again. You walked over to him, tripping on the microphone cord. He caught you a few inches off the ground.

“That would’ve hurt like a bitch,” you commented, bursting into laughter again. He helped you up and held your hand as you crossed over the wires this time, ensuring you wouldn’t get caught again.

Was your performance good? Probably not. Even Zen, who usually sang pretty well, was some sort of hot mess since he was so drunk. But the drunk students seemed to enjoy it, so you padded off the ‘stage’, proud of yourself.

Some dude called your name. Ew. Maybe Zen shouldn’t have introduced you.

Zen whipped around to face him. “If you so much as look at her right now I swear to God I’ll knock you into- Yoosung?”

“Hi!” You turned around to see the origin of the voice; it was indeed Yoosung. “You guys are kinda drunk.”

The two of you simply laughed, brushing him off. “What are you doing here?” Zen asked.

“Oh, well I live right down the street.”

“Oh my goodness you are a college student!” You observed keenly. You were connecting so many dots.

“Yup. Uh, I had an LOLOL event tonight but was super tired, so I thought I’d come and take a shot and it’d help wake me up. Never expected to see you two belting out Carrie Underwood.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh! I have a great idea,” Zen exclaimed, focusing his attention on you.

“I’d love to hear it.”

“Why don’t we just crash at Yoosung’s place tonight? We won’t have to pay for an Uber at high time and get stuck in traffic!”

Yoosung’s eyes widened. “But-“

“That’s pretty smart,” you agreed, nodding. “What do you think Yoosung?”

“I-“ he sighed. “I guess it’s okay. As long as I can play LOLOL.”

“Yay!” You cheered. “We can go now. Lead the way.”

Yoosung hesitantly led you out to the street, walking ahead of the two of you, glancing back every few seconds to ensure you hadn’t died. Zen wrapped an arm around you and you one around him, and you stumbled down the street together, only slightly more stable than you would have been if it were just you on your own.

Luckily Yoosung lived on the first floor. You weren’t sure you’d be able to do steps right now. He unlocked the door to his apartment. “I only have like... a bed and a couch,” he muttered awkwardly. “But we can figure something out.”

You stepped into his apartment, looking around. “Wow Yoosung! This is cute as hell.”

“Uh, thanks, I think.”

You made your way to his couch and collapsed down on it. Zen did so on the other end of the couch at the same time, your legs bumping into each other. You both shifted so that your legs were on top of his so that it was more comfortable.

“Is that really comfortable? You can take my bed,” Yoosung offered.

“Nah, this is great. Will you get us a blankie though?” You asked. Yoosung left to go find something. Zen shrugged off his leather jacket. You were very happy you wore something comfy enough to crash in.

Yoosung draped a blanket over the two of you, his face bright red. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect! Thanks Dad,” Zen joked. Yoosung’s face got even more red, his ears heating up now too.

“Night Yoosungie. Don’t stay up all night,” you commented, shutting your eyes.

You heard something set down on the coffee table. Cups of water and Advil. He was too sweet. “I have class in the morning, so feel free to see yourself out whenever you’re up and ready tomorrow,” Yoosung said. “Goodnight you two.” He chuckled to himself. You and Zen probably looked like absolute idiots, but not that you cared. You had a great night out. Good thing Dad Yoosung was there too.

#mystic messenger #mysme #zen

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