#i was also WALKING AROUND A HOSPITAL the entirety of the first week

[lettersiarrange]

Me: I'll be able to recover from my nightmarish 3 months after I finish this 2 week work trip

Me: [gets covid on the 2 week work trip]

💀

[storiesofsvu]

Solace In Solitude Ch 4

Warnings: language, medical talk, mentions of trauma/Lauren episode. Medical injury, panic attacks/generalized anxiety. Very likely inaccurate information about DWB and medical procedures. I'm literally making things up as I go along. don't come for me. Also note that this is one of those chapters where it's little events over the passage of time so the ** means that it's a new day/few more days later kinda thing. Apologies for taking so much time between chapters on this and posting in general, being out of town really threw my entire week and vibe off and I hate it. Hopefully this will kick start me back to where I want to be lol

Emily was honestly surprised when she didn’t see you at all over the next two days, she heard your name a couple of times but nothing about you being in the hospital. She found that without you around she felt a little more obligated to actually do what you’d asked, as if she was a school kid doing extra credit on spring break, that if she had done it by the time you’d gotten back she’d get a gold star. When it felt like you were breathing over her shoulder it just made her less motivated, as if she was about to do it and then you’d ask about it and she’d immediately shut down and wasn’t going to do it any longer. She was doing it for herself, not for you.

She was whisked away one afternoon for a quick procedure, another doctor redoing the irritated stitches on her back and she was reminded once again to start being a little more active. Somehow she took that advice a little closer to heart, making it to the nurses station and back twice during the rest of the afternoon. Now that she was moving around a bit more her appetite was increased, each meal finished almost in its entirety and the nurses praised her level of hydration. She still didn’t like her required walks, she found there were too many people around, too many doctors watching out of the corner of their eyes, nurses badgering her if she needed anything or wanted to check out PT, families there to visit others who just stared. After one of her first walks she retreated back to her room and refused to get out of the bed the rest of the day.

It was later that night that she found just how empty the hospital got after dark. Hallways basically cleared, the rooms quiet, lights dimmed, windows that she could actually see the stars through. Emily actually started to enjoy those walks, something about them was calming, knowing that this time was hers only, that the city was asleep, she felt safe. She didn’t feel ashamed about how slow she was moving, how many breaks she had to take or something trivial like how bad her hair looked when she walked at night with no one to witness. Going to PT could still eat a bag of dicks though.

She was honestly starting to think that the little outburst between the two of you had been enough to make you throw in the towel, and she didn’t blame you either. She’d been incredibly stubborn, she always was and her realizing this wasn’t about to make her stop, she just wouldn’t judge you for giving up on her. She was used to it by now, it wasn’t like you were the only one who had done so.

She’d spent a good chunk of the night wandering through the hospital, taking breaks whenever she needed, she found a particularly nice windowsill up on the fourth floor and made a mental note to bring a book with her the next night. She just felt more alive at night, the darkness hid everything, hid her past, her secrets, her shame and guilt about everything that had happened. It was only when the building began to come alive that she let out a huff, returning to her room, surprising herself when she fell asleep instantly.

**

By the time Emily woke up it was nearing noon, sun streaming in through the open blinds, warming the room from the cool spring morning. She shifted slightly in the bed, stretching out a couple of tense muscles as she blinked her eyes open, glancing around the room. It was no surprise that her breakfast was left on the rolling table, ready and waiting for whenever she was awake, this had been a daily occurrence. It was just more often than not that she woke up when they did morning rounds, she was assuming her night crawling of the hospital had her conked out heavier than normal. She rolled her head to the other direction to look out the window when her brows furrowed at the sight of you on the small couch in the corner. You had what looked like a textbook in your lap, a pile of charts on one side and a notebook on the other, pen in your hand, highlighter in the top pocket of your scrubs. At first she was surprised you hadn’t jumped to attention the moment she moved and then she noticed your earphones. She pushed herself up to sitting but even that movement didn’t catch your eye, so she picked up an empty paper cup from the side table, crumpling it up and hucking it in your direction. You jumped, glancing up as you pulled out one earphone and then the other.

“Seriously? We’re resorting to throwing things at one another now?”

“Why are you in my room?”

“It’s quieter than the nurses station.” You shrugged, going back to the book, “I was in here a lot while you were still comatose. It’s easier to focus when you can actually hear your brain.” You mumbled, letting out a little sigh, flipping a page.

Emily didn’t say anything in return, not that you were expecting much. Instead she studied you, the profiler gears in her brain beginning to turn once again. You looked about as tired as she felt, but it wasn’t slow blinks or bags under your eyes, it was the dejection wafting off you, the way your shoulders hunched forward and you were curled around yourself like you were admitting defeat, like you were trying to comfort yourself. She could tell that your eyes were scanning the text but you weren’t absorbing anything, maybe it was because now she was awake and you were aware of her watching you but she was pretty sure that wasn’t it. There was something eating at you, something that was pulling you away from swiping traumas and surgeries from down in the ER for a more isolated day in the one place where no one would want to come looking for you.

“What’s with you today?” She suddenly asked, almost kicking herself instantly at the way she worded the question. Sure, she didn’t really care but she could’ve been a little more civil, if she pissed you off you did have the authority to prod at her with needles.

“Hmm?” You hadn’t even glanced up from the book.

“You seem…off.”

This time you let out another tired sigh, flipping the book shut and tossing it off to the side, “it’s my younger sister’s thirtieth today. We always do a girl’s trip for her birthday and considering it’s a milestone year we were supposed to be doing a big one.”

“What’s stopping you?” She asked, her brow scrunching as she reached out to her breakfast and you vaguely gestured around the room. “You use up all your vacation days already?”

“No.” You practically snorted, “but I can’t exactly take enough time off.”

“Then have her fly out here?” Emily suggested and your eyes narrowed in her direction, wondering why she was technically trying to help you out right now.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy you know.” You pulled her chart from the pile beside you, “besides, my family thinks I’m in Haiti.” Your eyes were skimming through the updates in her chart as she studied you for a moment longer.

“Why?”

“It was where I did my longest posting for Doctors Without Borders, I liked it the best and it was the one I was the busiest and most unreachable. It was the most believable cover so any friends and family wouldn’t wonder why I seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.”

“Oh…” She paused for a moment, picking apart the pastry in front of her, slowly chewing on a couple of pieces, “I didn’t realize Borders had a program here.”

“They don’t.” You replied dryly, not looking up, “at least not in the city. There’s a couple of programs out in the suburbs, lots of work helping refugees.”

“Is that where you were the last couple of days?” She asked and the pen in your hand stalled and you finally looked up at her.

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a bit,” she shrugged, popping another bite of food into her mouth.

“I’m not with Borders right now. The US government is paying my salary, when I said I was from Boston I meant that’s where I live, it’s where I had a very comfortable job that I loved and had just started doing research for a clinical trial so I could get a grant for it. Then I essentially signed a verbal NDA saying I wouldn’t tell anyone where I was or what I was doing for your safety and I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” You flipped the chart closed, standing from the couch, “so how about you cooperate for once and lean forward so I can check those new stitches.”

Emily felt a twinge of guilt creep through her at your admission, dropping the pastry back onto her plate so she could shift upwards and you could do what you needed to. She’d been so wrapped up in her own situation she’d just figured you’d either volunteered or were on a separate contract or something. She was slowly realizing that maybe you’d been thrown into this new life as much as she had.

You pulled on a pair of gloves, lifting up her shirt so you could examine the newly done work, gently touching a couple of them, “looks good. Plastics knows what they’re doing.” You let out a sigh, dropping her shirt back down, “I’m glad your appetite’s back, and clearly you’ve been moving around a bit more.”

“Guess you could say I got a little antsy staying in bed all the time.”

“Good.” Crossing back to the couch you started to pick up all your things, “now get your ass down to PT, I’m booking it for you on Wednesday.”

“Oh come on!” Emily groaned, slipping right back into the dynamic of her being insanely frustrated with this place, you, herself, “I was up walking the entire floor the last couple of days, isn’t that enough?”

“No.” You stated blankly, turning back to her from the door, “you’ve got muscles in your abdomen that need restrengthening. Not to mention your mobility, you’ll go to do something you’ve always been able to do and find that you can’t do it now or it’s gonna hurt like hell. You need to be cleared for at home PT before you get discharged.” You pulled the door open, “and for the sake of both of us, you want to get discharged. Go to PT.”

Emily grumbled, dropping back down onto the bed as you swung the door shut behind you.

This was bullshit.

She was a trained FBI agent who passed all her physical and fitness tests with flying colours, she didn’t need PT. She was fine.

**

This loop around the hospital got Emily down to the cafeteria, happily picking up a side of fries to take back to her room, a little treat, a reward considering she got herself up and moving today. She was eating them while flipping through a magazine when you slipped into the room and she noticed the way you spotted the smuggled in food, a frown taking over her face.

“Take the fries away and I’ll be on my worst behaviour.” She warned, actually earning a chuckle from you.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You replied, moving through the room to check on her vitals, “plus that means you made it all the way down to the caf, that’s a decent walk.”

“Hmph.” As usual, she shut down as soon as you managed to weasel your way a quarter inch through the door. You let out a soft sigh, scribbling down a couple of updates into her chart.

“Do you not want to get out of here or something?” You asked and it was Emily’s turn to sigh, chewing on her lip for a moment while she thought before looking up at you with a trace of worry etched into her features.

“What exactly happens when I do get out of here?”

“There’s an apartment set up.” You replied, “I’ll take you there, make sure you’re settling in. I’ve got other paperwork for you, passport, ID’s, bank account to keep you comfortable. They left me with a burner phone, said they’d call if there was ever a major update.” Emily let out a low breath, her eyes flitting between you, the window and then the door as a tightness wound its way into her chest. Your brow furrowed, perching on the edge of the bed, your hand gently squeezing at her leg through the blanket, “hey… what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She shook it off, avoiding your gaze, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You can lie to me all you want but the monitors you’re hooked up to can’t. So when your heart rate spikes like that, as your doctor, it’s my job to worry.”

Scowling, she crossed her arms over her chest, sinking back into the bed as she tried to retrain her body to not show the signs of stress no matter how much she was feeling it. However this time things were different, she really was vulnerable, she didn’t have her gun, her team, the strength to pull herself out of another hole. She took a heavy breath, her eyes closing for a moment before she finally dropped the mask. It had been long enough now, her mind was clear of all the fogginess that had came with the coma, with the higher level of pain meds, she’d been able to piece things together over the past couple of weeks and she knew the truth before she even asked, her voice wavering when she finally spoke.

“They didn’t catch him, did they? I mean… that’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

“I… don’t know.” You shrugged, “I’m sorry. But considering all the secretiveness, the hiding, I’d assume that whoever did that to you is still out there.” Pausing for a moment you watched the way she appeared to shrink even further into the bed, “was… what happened… a work related thing, or personal? Like are we talking about a jealous ex or a sadistic serial killer?”

Your words almost made Emily laugh at the irony of your question and she wasn’t even sure she could explain the situation to herself right now. Instead she slipped the mask back on, rolling onto her side to face the window, her mumble barely heard, “it’s a long story.”

**

The stars had been so bright through the hospital windows Emily felt incredibly drawn to them, the temptation of breathing fresh air for the first time in months too strong for her to resist. Head tilted up to the night sky, eyes shut as the breeze whipped around her she finally felt like she was free. You were nowhere to be found, the beeping and whirring of machines no longer attacking her senses, she couldn’t feel nurses hands constantly prodding at her body, she was the one in control. The city was strangely quiet, or maybe it was just that she was used to DC, that she’d forgotten what the European streets sounded like after dark, maybe she really could get used to this. She could smell rain in the air, heavy clouds hanging in the sky before a droplet hit her cheek. A smile split her lips as her eyes opened, fingers raising to wipe away the drop though her head tilted in confusion when they came away from her cheek coated in crimson. Another drop came barreling down from the sky and landed in front of her feet, when it hit the pavement it exploded into a pool of blood, trickling its way into the cracks of the sidewalk, sputtering in time with the beating of her heart.

“Hello Emily.” She could hear his voice clear as day, feel his breath on the back of her neck, his hands closing in around her waist, squeezing a little too tight on the side of her injury, his fingers digging into the stitches and she winced. “Or what is it that they’re calling you nowadays? Did you decide to stick with Lauren? I always thought it suited you so beautifully.”

She tried to shove away from him but when she turned around he was nowhere to be seen, only his dark laugh echoing through the air. The air seemed to be turning darker, stars vanishing from the sky, the rain had picked up, coating the streets in maroon and her vision began to tunnel. She whipped around again at Ian’s laugh, eyes darting around the buildings, her breath catching in her throat when she couldn’t see the hospital anymore.

“I found you once, you know I’ll be able to find you again.” Ian jeered, and she let out a groan as his fingers scratched across the brand on her chest, “I marked you. You’ll always belong to me. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re just waiting for me to come get you, take back what’s rightfully mine.”

Emily gasped at the feeling of cold metal at the back of her neck, digging into her skin as he pressed the gun hard against the base of her skull. She could feel the heat of his body right up against hers,

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to make any mistakes this time. I’m not going to leave you for dead. I’m not walking away until I see your brains splattered on the ground.”

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut in an attempt to hold back her tears as he cocked the gun and the jolt that shocked through her made her gasp out loud, she struggled to breathe for only a moment before her eyes flew open.

Emily was shaking, covered in a sheen of sweat as she bolted upright in her bed, her hand slamming out to turn on the light in her hospital room. Panicked eyes darted around every corner and crevice of the room as her heart hammered in her chest. Gaining the courage to move she checked under the bed, making sure the bathroom was empty before she returned to her bed. She could still hear Ian’s voice running through her brain, her arms breaking out in goosebumps as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She felt like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, her brain alert yet also foggy, almost dizzy as his words found their way back into her head. He was right, the longer she stayed here, the more of a sitting duck she was.

She had to get out of here.

Now.

She hopped off the bed, thankful that she was still in a set of the comfortable clothes you’d brought in for her. Rushing around the room she yanked her phone charger out from the wall, tossing it into the duffel bag while she quickly gathered anything else she might need. It was a flurried frenzy while she debated between slipping out the door or climbing out the window before she remembered she was on the third floor. Taking a deep breath, she unclipped the monitor on her finger, ripped the stickers off her chest and with a heavy wince tugged out her IV, holding a cotton ball to it until she was certain it wasn’t bleeding and wrapping a band aid over it.

She was so wrapped up in her own panic, in the fact that she felt like she was suffocating from the inside out, she tried to shake out of it, she just needed to get out of the four walls of her room and she would feel better, she knew it. They were closing in on her, darkness taking over in the exact same way the city streets had trapped her with Ian. Her eyes were blurring and she didn’t even realize it was because they were filling with tears, her hand clawed at her chest, tugging down the neckline of her shirt so it wasn’t constricting around her neck so much. She jumped, a quiet yelp escaping her lips when there was a flash of lightning outside the window and she was certain for a moment that Ian was in the room with her. She bent over, zipping the duffel bag up and wrenched it onto her shoulder and this yelp was much louder than the last. There was a searing pain in her side and she could feel something wet on her stomach, she couldn’t even get the bag off the ground and she was stumbling backwards before she even knew it.

“Whoa!” A voice called out and she jerked away from the set of hands that were gently wrapping around her waist, certain that they were Ian’s.

“Get off!” She managed out, her voice raw as she pushed away a little too hard, teetering back into the bed.

“Hey, hey…” your voice was calmer this time, “Valerie, it’s me, alright. It’s Doctor Carter, I’m not gonna hurt you, but I do need you to get back in bed. Valerie? Valerie, look at me.” Your hands gently closed around her wrists, pulling them away from her face and you realized just how wild her eyes were, that whatever kind of nightmare she’d been having she was still partially trapped in, “Valerie…”

“It’s Lauren!” She snapped and suddenly her body stilled as she gasped out a breath, muscles relaxing when she came back to earth and realized what she’d said. Her hand flew to her mouth and she tried to hold back the cries that were fighting their way out.

“Hey… you’re okay.” You assured her, squeezing softly at her hands, “but it looks like you blew a stitch or two. How about you lie back and we get that taken care of, okay?”

 She nodded softly, shifting backwards onto the bed with a wince as you turned around to grab a suture kit and pull on a pair of gloves.

Sun was peeking in through the semi shut blinds when Emily let out a groan, blinking open her eyes before she swallowed, her mouth incredibly dry.

“I feel like I just woke up from the dead.” She muttered.

“A nice drug cocktail will do that.” You returned with a yawn and she nearly jumped, her eyes flying to the couch in the corner where you were curled up with a book, finishing the page before you looked up at her, “you feeling better than last night?”

“I.. guess?”

“What happened in the nightmare?” You asked and she scoffed.

“There was no nightmare.”

“Yeah, right. It was the middle of the night and you were trying to make a run for it in the midst of a panic attack.” You closed the book on your lap, a concerned expression on your face, “listen. I know that you don’t like me and that is completely acceptable, but you do need to get whatever’s on your mind out. I may not be a shrink but you’ve made a very good point that you can’t talk to one, so talk to me. The more I know, the more I can do to help you, including getting you on the proper combination of meds to make sure you’re not having anymore nightmares like that.”

Emily hated that you were right, letting out a frustrated sigh as she slowly sat up to pour herself a glass of water, taking a few sips to counteract the dry mouth from whatever you’d given her last night to calm her down.  She felt the fear creeping its way through her veins, letting out a little shiver and tugging JJ’s sweater tighter around her body.

“He’s still out there.” She started, her voice barely above a whisper, “and he wants me dead.”

“As far as he’s concerned… you are dead.” You assured gently, “that’s why we’re here, remember? To keep you safe. I know it sucks, and who knows how long we’ll be here but it’s keeping you alive, okay?”

“I just…” she huffed, struggling to find the words as tears blurred into her eyes and she dropped her hands down to her lap with a defeated sniffle, “I can’t lift my arm above my head. If he tracks me down how am I supposed to put up a fight if I can’t even pick up a fucking duffle bag? I know it was stupid to try and run off like that, I was freaked out and wasn’t thinking straight. It just feels like the longer I’m trapped here….”

“That you’re actually trapped.” You finished for her and she glanced toward you, nodding gently.

“Yeah.” She replied, trying to wipe away a tear before you’d noticed it rolling over her cheek. You sunk back into the couch, honestly shocked to see her this vulnerable with her guard down this far. You weren’t sure if she finally trusted you or if she was just too tired to put up with it anymore but you figured now was the time to push your luck.

“Can I ask something?”

“Sure.” She reached out for her water, staring into the cup as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Who’s Lauren?”

“An old undercover alter ego.” She admitted, “the one that he fell in love with. The one who ultimately ended up betraying him and sending him to prison. He escaped, wanted revenge and was willing to take out my entire team along the way. So I took the fight to him instead.”

“Ballsy.”

“Stupid.” She scoffed, risking a look up at you as her fingers came to the swell of her chest, gingerly scratching through the fabric, “doesn’t matter if he never finds me I’m marked as his now.” Your head tilted and your brows furrowed as you looked at her, “what?”

“I knew the mark was new, I didn’t realize it wasn’t consensual.” You replied and she scoffed again, this time accompanied with an eye roll.

“Tattoos are more my style.”

“I know brands can’t really fully be removed, but it’s not my specialty, I can send plastics up for a consult?” You offered, finally shifting from the couch, stretching out your stiff body, “the scar tissue doesn’t look that bad, might have to do another skin graft but I’m sure there’s something they can figure out.”

“Uh… yeah, sure. Thanks.” A tight smile flashed briefly across her lips and you returned one to her as you approached the bed, “god you look like shit.”

“There she is.” You muttered with a sigh, “I didn’t want to go home and leave you on your own after that.” You checked how long ago you’d administered the meds, eyes flicking to the monitors to add a couple of notes in her chart. “I want to get you started on some daily anti anxiety meds and probably some sleeping pills too, if you’re having nightmares like that sometimes it’s better not to dream at all.”

“Yeah.” She ducked her gaze, her water cup suddenly very interesting as you replaced her chart and began to move to the door, “Dr. Carter?” She suddenly called out and you spun back to her with a brow raised, surprised she even remembered your name, much less used it.

“Yeah?”

“I need… to be able to take care of myself.” She felt heat creeping into her cheeks as she risked a glance up at you, “I can’t do that if I can’t lift a bag.” A small grin spread across your lips as she spoke, “is there an opening for PT today?”

“I’ll call down to find out.” You replied, pulling the door open, “make sure you get on the list asap.”

“Thanks.”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @swimmingstudentchaos891

[ten-cent-sleuth]

4, 10, 15 and 16 for the writer asks please! :)

Coming right up! :)

4. A story idea you haven’t written yet?

I answered this here as well, but I’m happy to trot out another one. It’s not like I’ll be running out of unwritten ideas any time soon. xD

Since you’re like my Hotchniss mutual (😜), here’s the entirety of a plot bunny I jotted down in a Doc literally just titled “Hotchniss Idea”—

Prentiss is always joining groups. Growing up and moving around, she was categorically, methodically The New Girl. When she joined the FBI, her colleagues frequently iced her out because of her mother and she had to wriggle her way into their dynamics. She often (or at least twice: Doyle and Hotch) dated men who had already experienced marriage and fatherhood. One day, an unsub somehow picks up on this (or he’s been stalking her? or she tells him all this by herself to build rapport?) and—in front of the whole team, naturally—urges her to pick him instead and for once to get to build something. “You’ve always had to fight for approval and justify the space you take up. Affection from your mother, friendship during your youth, trust from your team—it’s never been free, has it? With me, it would be, I swear to you. My love would be unconditional.”

This would, of course, lead to some fluffy team reassurances aaand Aaron getting to comfort Emily about any legitimate lingering insecurities. Welp, it’s not the most fleshed-out idea, and I don’t know that I’d ever get around to writing it, but there we go. :3

10. What is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

Ooh, I’m glad you asked this one because interestingly, my answer changed a couple of months ago!

The oldest WIP that I still haven’t shelved as “probably not going to finish this” is an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Service AU, which I started in like 2020 and which I still consider my baby, my pride and joy, my pet project. However, I suppose the question is more about a draft that has by now been completed, so I will instead say—

—this sucker ☝🏽☝🏽 sat in my drafts from June 12, 2023 (or, uh, June 13 at 04h00 😅) to September 30, 2024. Less than a year and a half might not be too long a wait for a multichap, but this was a 2k-word one-shot! For me, short stories get written within a week or not at all: those tend to be spun out of a whirlwind of feels rather than forged out of conscious outlining, so the heart of the story will decay after too long. Not in quality necessarily, but in vitality—in what it means to me, you know? So I was astonished and thrilled with my muse for making an exception here (and must once again thank @queen-vessaraia-ashlynne for giving that muse its direction again). ;P

15. Favourite weather for writing?

I had never given this thought before! During the summer, I seize the opportunity to write outside, so I suppose perfect walking weather would be perfect writing weather. If I’m indoors and comfortable though, I don’t really notice! In general, I love cloudless sunny skies and a good snowstorm, so maybe those can also be my favourite weather(s?) for writing in particular. ;D

16. Favourite place to write?

Idk if I have one! I’ve written in the bathtub, on the bus, during class, at the hospital, underneath my desk (floor time for those who like to hide and vanish 👍🏽), literally inside the closet, on hills and beaches……and honestly, I’ve found that as long as I am writing, I’m incomparably happy.

Maybe my old dormitory though? I felt very alive and productive there in general, thanks to my first contact with the beautiful intersection between convenience and independence. I’ll probably never see it again though, lol!

Click on the link to send more fic writer asks! 👻

Thank you so much for the questions. <3

[wizardfrog69]

Helppp ii just watched girl interrupted and i have an idea, yosano as an mental hospital doctor(idk how to call it, just a person who helps with the patients😭) and her mentee nb s/o whos a patient here, s/o might have borderline disorder if u want

Sorry if its complicated or cringey 💀, just a random though of my head

I just watched girl interrupted and it's a good film 10/10 would recommend, I also read some more about bpd but I'm probably gonna read more. So idk if s/o is supposed to be a mentee or patient so ill go with patient. Thanks for the request! :)

'•.¸♡ patient ♡¸.•'

Psychologist!Yosano x mentally ill!gn!reader

I'm not a mental health professional so I'm not gonna mention the mental illness cuz I could portrait it wrong or something and I don't want to mislead people and this isn't romanticising any sort of mental illness!

Fluff

Tw!!! Suicidal thoughts

If this subject is triggering in anyway please do not read, your mental wellbeing is more important.

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

You just signed yourself into a mental hospital to get better, you were promised this place was going to make you feel way better. The hospital halls were as meek and blank as one would expect, dull colours and emptiness for the most part. The room you were assigned was a bit more lively yet the bars on the windows made you feel like you were trapped there for entirety.

Your days there were miserable and boring, there was nothing to do there, not like there was anything to do at home either, if you were home you would probably be laying in bed sleeping or looking at the ceiling think up little stories in your head. Here you could stare at a different wall and a roommate telling you about something which you only drowned out to be background noise.

You had forgotten why you signed yourself in, if you were completely honest with yourself you felt as though there was no hope left for you, people should have just let you to die but they couldn't and had to intervene.

The hospital made you see a new doctor, you've never seen her before but many of the other patients there said she was only there to steal their money and she works for the capitalists as do all therapist and others, or that's what you believed, maybe you were just told to believe that and everything you believe in is a thought forced upon you by someone else.

You were told to walk into an office and as soon as you saw your new doctor your swore your heart skipped a beat or two. She must have realised you weird around her because she told you it was okay to sit down. She must have thought you were nervous, hopefully she doesn't know how you feel about her, she was so beautiful and her voice was like heaven to your ears.

The only thing you looked forward in your day was visiting her in her office where you talk about everything and anything but your feelings for her, she us your doctor after all and you didn't want to see another one. All you had on your mind was her, when you awoke, during breakfast, lunch, dinner, when you stared at the TV screen the only thing you thought about was her and her only.

How long has it been now, 5 months? 6? You had a plan to confess your feelings and you knew you were getting out soon you wanted to ask doctor Yosano to see you after you left.

You entered her office as per usual but this time she drew your attention to your smile, it was the first time she saw a genuine smile from you. You told her you had a surprise for her but only if she could confirm that you would be leaving some time soon. You didn't hate the place just that it wasn't a place for you, with all the people and all and beside you couldn't do anything with sharp objects so how were you possible supposed to cook?

After carefully confirming you would be leaving that week you decided to ask her to meet you a day after your leave from the hospital in a park near by. She agreed to your little idea because you seemed so happy from it.

You were waiting at the park, sitting on a cold bench. You saw Yosano approach the bench and you stood up. 'I need to tell you something Ako.' Yosano smiled to herself from the nickname you've been calling her a while. 'What is it?' She asked in her usual tone. 'I think I like you, like I want to spend time with you and stuff.' Your eyes were filled with hope, completely different from the ones which saw the hospital for the first time.

Yosano didn't know how to respond, you were no longer her patient so it could workout but could the two of you really work out? She asked you to take a walk while she can think about it and decide while talking to one another. After walking for a few minutes she decided to date you as she also developed feelings for you over time.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

As you can tell I have no idea how Yosano's personality is.

I'm really bad at ending stuff.

I'm thinking of writing more for anyone from the ada but idk who or what I should write yet.

Have a wonderful day/night and don't forget to drink plenty of water and stay safe! :)

-lots of love, Az

[joshscrookednipple]

The good, The bad, and The okay i guess

Pairing: Danny x Female OC

Summary: mags is best friends with the famous sam kiszka..and also a second year resident. what happens when his other best friend shows up at her ER

Warnings: Cussing, shitty writing, hospitals

there has been no proof reading of this so beware.

word count: 1,940

“I’m not taking you to the hospital just because you stubbed your toe”

Sam huffs and points down at his big toe which he so unfortunately stubbed into the kitchen counter when he was spinning around and singing “karma chameleon” into a whisk.

“what if it’s broken? what if i need to amputate it? i’ve seen greys anatomy Mags!”

Sam has been like this for as long as i can remember. i met him two years ago in a library, i had just finished medical school and started my residency to be an attending physician. he had bumped into me..or as he likes to say..i fell into his loving embrace. i spilt my coffee on him. it burnt him. he started freaking out and thinking we would have to amputate his arm (that always seems to be his go to whenever he gets hurt. a scrape on his knee = amputation. it’s all the same in Sam’s head really) i cleaned up his burn. he invited me over to his place. i agreed. we binged watched the entirety of Game of thrones and have been best friends since.

i raise my eyebrow and look at sam and look away before quietly opening my drawer and grabbing a steak knife before turning around back to him.

“say goodbye to your toe”

sam screams and promptly goes to hide behind the counter and starts throwing napkins at me. i’m about retaliate when his phone rings and he slowly stands up and grabs his phone before slow backing up into the bathroom and closing the door.

laughing to myself i put the knife back in its respective area and stretch my arms up above my head while yawning. this is the first day in weeks that i’ve had a full day off. being a second year resident has its perks but it’s also extremely exhausting. especially as a young second year resident, half of my time is trying to prove to the other doctors that “no i’m not a first year medical student” and “yes i know how to insert an I.V you dipshit”. The possibilities were endless of what i could do today..read that book that i impulsively bought because one of my influencers read it. Maybe i can try to bake bread (and ultimately fail). or maybe-

“We have to go mags”

i’m cut short from my daydream of a lazy day and turn to look at sam who was previously in pajama pants and no shirt and now in a black t-shirt and hopping on one foot trying to put on actually pants.

“go where? what’s going on?”

“it’s Danny he- crash- car go- boom-“ sam stutters as he finally manages to get his pants up to a decent height. i’m about to ask him to take a deep breath when i get a message saying they need me to come into the hospital and i sniff and grab my jacket. i’ve heard of Danny..he’s Sam’s closest and dearest friend but i’ve never had the pleasure of actually meeting him. after what seemed like forever in getting Sam to stop hyperventilating, we get to the hospital and before i can even stop the car he jumps out of it which leads him in promptly falling in his ass before he scrambled up and runs to the hospital. i sigh and park my car before quickly rushing to the E.R where i’m met with my old attending, Lisa.

“i’m so sorry to call you in on your day off, we’re so short staffed and the E.R is crazy today” Lisa apologized profusely, in which i also found out that as sam always does. was overreacting. yes Danny was in a car accident. no his car didn’t go boom. but he did have a fracture in his arm.

“Thanks for filling me in Lisa, i’ll go check on them and make sure sam doesn’t burn down the building with his worrying” i smile at her as she walks away and sigh when i hear the unmistakable voice of my best friend.

“you could’ve DIED danny!!” sam all but yells.

“but i didn’t.”

“But you COULD’VE!”

The hospital had moved Danny and the rest of the boys to a private room so that they would be out of sight for any potential fangirl or media hungry paparazzi. Jake was sitting in the corner of the room rubbing his temple and josh standing in front of sam and forcing him to sit in a chair.

“Samuel” josh started “Danny is alive, there doesn’t look to be anything wrong with him and he can probably go home just as soon as Magnolia comes and gives him the okay”

Sam huffs and crosses him arms slumping into his chair and mutters a barely audible “whatever”. i make my way to Danny’s room and try to go over all of the ways i was going to tell Danny..the drummer of a very popular band that’s about to go on tour..that he can’t drum for at LEAST a month and a half. maybe i’ll just slide him a note that says “hey man no drumming for you. sucks to suck ig” then run out of the room as fast as i can. but in the words of Lisa, that would be “Unprofessional”.

i enter the room and as soon as sam sees he he jumps up and wraps his lanky arms around my body.

“how much time does he have left mags. i can take it”

i laugh and push him back into his chair and look at the Drummer and damn. he looked quite literally like a greek god, he has brown curly hair with bangs and highlights. he was in a mint green t-shirt with black skinny jeans and white vans.

“You must be Danny”

he smiles this toothy smile and nods “and you must be magnolia, It takes a special kind of person to put up with sam”

“you’re telling me”

“so when can i get out of here”

i sigh and look at my i-pad which had all of the hospitals patients medical records on it. i set it down and look at him.

“We would like to keep you overnight for observation. you have a mild concussion and a sprained arm, which as you know Drumming could worsen the fracture”

that catches jakes attention and he looks up .

“okay yeah sure, but we have tour in three weeks. he’ll be fine by then right?”

i chew on my lip before shaking my head “it’ll take at least a month and a half before we can even consider getting you back on the drums Danny. i’m sorry i know this isn’t the news you want to hear but-“

there’s a beat of silence and finally the curly haired drummer speaks up “go.”

josh furrows his eyebrows and looks at Danny who is staring at his hands and twisting a black silicone ring that’s around his thumb.

“Danny nobody’s going anywhere-“ josh starts but the drummer soon cuts him off.

“Go. i wanna be alone. i’ll text you all when you can come pick me up”

after much arguing and debating they all decide to to push Danny anymore and leave. Hours pass by and the next time i look at the clock it’s nine thirty at night. i start making my rounds when i hear a sniffle come from Danny’s room and i poke my head in to see him wiping tears and i softly knock on the doorframe.

“you doing okay danny?” i ask as soon as he gives me the okay for me to come in”

“it’s just-“ he starts “we’ve already had to reschedule the tour so much and i feel like this is my fault..maybe if i hadn’t went out to get food or if i had been more cautious while driving-“

“Danny this isn’t your fault. the other car ran the red light, there’s nothing you could’ve done”

i didn’t even notice my hand was ontop of his until i looked down. he sighs and nods before speaking.

“if it’s okay i’d like to be alone now”

“of course.” is all i say before walking out.

————————

three months.

that’s how long it has been since i had last seen Danny. well seen him in person that is. his fracture healed and he made his way to a full recovery which means that they could start the tour back up again. he had found me on instagram and we have been talking almost everyday while he’s on tour. he’ll send me photos of sam trying to do a cartwheel on the tour bus or the food that Jake had whipped up. i’ve never been on tour with them but something in me aches wishing i could go.

now we’re here.

i’m lounging back against my couch with my phone on my coffee table and i’m trying to find a new TV show to watch when my phone pings.

Text from Danny:

Hey my beautiful, you know how you were wishing you could come to our show that’s conveniently only an hour away from your house but you’re too broke.

Me:

…

yeah?

Danny:

I GOT YOU TWO VIP TICKETS! okay i gtg josh is about to throw a apple at my head but i’ll see you tonight.

i smile big before looking at the clock and peel myself from the couch and stretch out my sore muscles. i had three hours till i needed to leave which means if i spend minimal time getting my makeup and hair done i could still have time to pick out an outfit. i was buzzing with anticipation on seeing danny in his element. that was until i got a text saying i was needed at the hospital. there was a bus crash and the ER was spilling over. god sometimes being a doctor sucks.

__________

it was 10:45 at night before i finally got to the venue and the show was over. i had missed it. feeling disappointment course through me i turn on my heel and start walking back to my car, ready to divulge in ice cream and a 2000’s rom com movie when i hear the all too familiar voice of my favorite drummer behind me.

“Mags- hold up!” he says breathlessly as he puts his hand on my shoulder.

i was so mentally and physically drained from the night that in all honesty i just wanted to go home and get wrapped up in a nice fluffy blanket.

“i’m sorry Danny i was- i was stuck in the E.R and it was crazy- i really tried to make it and i know you were so excited about it but i-“

i was cut off by danny’s large hands on either side of my face and his lips pressed with mine. before i could truly comprehend what was happening he pulls back and runs his finger though his hair and looks down at me.

“shit- i’m sorry- i should’ve asked- i’ll go-“

“danny wait-“

“no i’ll-“

“Daniel Jean Wagner! you can just kiss a girl then leave!”

he licks his lips breaths heavily as he stares at me. i cautiously walk over to him and cup his face gently with my hands and slot my lips with his before pulling back, eyes searching his, only for me to find the most captivating smile i’ve ever seen on a man.

“i was planning on going home and binge watching game of thrones..wanna join?”

he smiles and presses another kiss to my lips “i would love nothing more my flower”

[spaciousreasoning]

Ten Years After

As a friend’s text reminded me last night, it has been 10 years since I wound up in the hospital for ignoring the treatment of my diabetes. Worse shape than I had been in since the first diagnosis of the impending issue, when the doctor’s suggestions for changes in diet and doing regular exercise went in one ear and out the other.

A friend called me on Monday, Sept. 29, 2014, to tell me that some of the folks from church thought I “looked like shit” on Sunday. It was confirmed when the friend took me to the emergency room. After a bit of a wait I was admitted with a blood glucose above 800 and an A1C of 14. At least one nurse told me I was lucky to still be alive.

I spent a few days in ICU and a couple more in a regular room before being discharged on Oct. 5. I stayed another couple of days at a motel while some friends showed up at my house to do some cleaning and prepping for my return. Facebook was filled with lots of details of my progress for another couple of months.

In the years since that episode, consistency in taking care of my diabetes has not been my strong suit. Addiction to sugar seems to have been much worse than any of the other drugs in my history. Which is why I have once again been dealing with it, and once again in a more or less public way. Just not on Facebook.

Monday morning’s blood sugar was back up to 132. It was probably due to the “late” dinner time—i.e., after the Sunday recovery meeting. I’m glad it did not drop below 100 again, but I’m still sticking with the 1000mg pills for now.

Following Monday’s coffee and brain games we had some oatmeal for our breakfast. Part of the reason was to help us warm up. The overnight low was 42º and after the oatmeal we spent some time figuring out how to get the heat going inside the house, especially using the ductless air unit.

Nancy found a video that explained how to warm us up, which will be useful when it continues to get colder as the fall progresses and winter arrives. According to the forecast, that will not be happening this week. The daytime highs are expected to get into the low 80s again.

I took a few minutes to do some updating on the ABRS site, while Nancy attempted to figure out how her Medicare coverage got screwed up and resulted in a charge for our first visit to the new PCP. I have not received a bill, so it’s obvious that something is not right.

Nancy then made it through the entirety of our 2.73 mile walk around the neighborhood just after noon. Following showers and a brief rest, we had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, a little after 3 p.m. We also had a few bites of watermelon. Then we went shopping at Trader Joe’s for some items on our list and some more we added while wandering the aisles.

Dinner was late because lunch was so late, but not as much as last night, plus more balanced toward healthy food. We had a small salad, some leftover chicken tikka masala, and more green beans.

For streaming entertainment, we watched another episode of “Shogun,” another “Midsomer Murders,” and then wrapped the evening with one more “Colin from Accounts.”

[daddydoddsjr]

Alluring - Part 1/?

Pairing || Aaron Hotchner x Unsub!GN!Reader

Contents/Warnings || Mentions of schizophrenia, death, medications, trauma, some yelling, stalker-ish Aaron moments

Authors Note || quick disclaimer; this takes place late season five, so haley is dead

You had gotten out of the mental hospital you had been in for several years, deemed fit for society whether that really be true or not. You needed someone there for you, someone to take care of you and make sure you took your medications. But your family had disowned you, your friends shunned you. You had managed to live on your own for a few weeks before running into Jack, who Hotch had lost sight of for only a moment. You picked up Jack, not even knowing he was Aaron’s kid. You were worried about a kid standing in the middle of a sidewalk, looking around aimlessly.

You held him, but not too tight, also looking around for any parent running around panicking, “ Where’s your mom, hm? Maybe your dad? “

Jack looked around with you and eventually pointed at a frantic Aaron, whipping his head all over in search of Jack. You tensed up a bit, but made your way over to Aaron and set Jack down in front of him.

“ God, thank you, “ He breathed and hugged Jack tightly before looking at you. “ I- Y/N…? “

You looked uncomfortable. You were uncomfortable, and he could tell.

“ Yeah, uh, you’re welcome… “ You turned on your heel to head home, but Aaron stopped you, “ They let you out? How have you been? “

You sigh, “ Are you asking that because you’re genuine, or because you’re one of tons of people who didn’t want me to get out? If it’s the ladder, don’t bother. “

Aaron wasn’t surprised by your answer, but he had always had a special interest in your case. Something about YOU made him want to see you more and understand your brain in its entirety. You weren’t a serial killer, a rapist, arsonist, or con artist. You were a schizophrenic kidnapper, who wasn’t medicated and not dealing well with serious trauma. You never physically hurt your victims, but you would keep them tied, dress them up, take care of them as if they were children. Yet there was still something even more different about you. He thought about you more often than he’d like to admit.

“ Well, I… “ He started slowly, but you interrupted him, “ I have food I have to pick up, “ You brushed past him.

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

It wasn't hard for Aaron to find where you lived. Stayed late a few nights, asked Garcia for a few favours. He finally found you. Soon he found himself at the front door of your apartment, wiping lint off of his suit and straightening his tie. He knocked three times on your door, listening to your footsteps as you approached. You looked through the peephole, cursing in your head and saying out loud,

“ Why the hell are you here, Agent Hotchner? “

“ Can I come in? “

“ Answer my question first. “

“ I just want to talk. “

“ About? “

“ About how you’ve been. How long have you been out? “

You huff but unlock and open the door, walking away from it and into your kitchen, “ Like you don’t already know. “

Aaron shut and re-locked the door, heading after you, “ I know… but I want to know from you. “

“ You’re not going to leave me alone are you? You sent me to a hospital for years and now you want to crawl back into my life again. What’re you trying to do, send me back? Prove that I’m not fit to be in public? “ You opened a kitchen drawer, pulling out bottles of pills, throwing them onto the counter, “ See? I’m medicated, I live alone, I haven’t done anything bad since I've gotten out. Isn’t that good enough for you? “

“ I’m not trying to send you back- “

“ Then why the hell are you here? You’re not here just to check up on me. “

“ I am. “

“ I don’t believe you. “

“ You don’t have to believe me, but I’m here anyway. I’m still going to ask how you’re doing. “

“ I hate you for sending me to that godforsaken place. I don’t want to see you. I can’t believe you actually went through the trouble of finding my apartment. “

Aarons jaw clenched before he said, “ It was meant to help you. “

You only scoffed, “ Get out of my apartment, Agent. I mean it. Don’t think I won’t call the police, I don’t care that you’re FBI. “

He listened to you. Both of you knew that probably wouldn’t be the last time you talked.

Aaron thought about that day a lot, despite it only being a few months ago. He glanced over at you, who was sleeping peacefully beside him and he let out a small sigh. He rolled from his back into his side, facing your back fully; you were absolutely alluring in every way to him. He wanted to know everything and anything he could about you and your mind. Things were looking up for Aaron and Jack, and he hoped things were looking up for you too; he thought that you were doing well.

Thought.

[letarasstuff]

Hold On

Summary: This is based on the song "Hold On" from Chord Overstreet. After weeks and months of arguments, hurtful words and pain Spencer's daughter is convinced that this is the only option for both's happiness.

Warnings: attempted suicide (not specified how), hospitals, angst, sad, hurtful words, mean Spencer in the beginning

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone

The last few weeks weren’t easy in the Reid household. There is not one day, where no loud screamed arguments are thrown through the entirety of the apartment.

“(Y/N), you have to see things from my point of view, too! My job is demanding and I can’t be there for every little competition you have”, Spencer tries to reason with his daughter.

“I have to see things from YOUR point?! Little competition?! DAD! This was the math olympics and, mind you and your busy schedule, it was not the ‘petty’ school round. I went against people from the WHOLE country! Just- I- Sometimes it would be nice to feel like I have a father caring for me for at least an hour. But I see, your job is more important than your child.”

Her father looks at her, speechless. He didn’t know how far she came in that competition. (Y/N) hasn’t said a thing, didn’t make a noise about it. How is he supposed to know all that then?

“Just because I’m a profiler doesn’t mean I’m able to read your mind. Just try and cut me some slack here, I- I need you to understand how important the things I do are. Can you try to be a little less ignorant, please?”

It feels like Spencer has punched her in the guts. For years (Y/N) backed down, knowing that her father’s work is in fact important. He is saving life for crying out loud, but is it really that selfish to ask for his attention every once in a while? Ever since she is basically able to be on her own it seems like he stopped caring for her.

“Ignorant? Oh Dad, you really are an amazing profiler”, the teenager says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “You know what? Try and profile that!” She begins to walk out of the living room, showing him the bird. Seconds later her door smashes into the lock.

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Is he really that bad of a father?

When (Y/N) was born, he swore to himself to be the opposite of his own. Spencer wanted to be there for his daughter any time she wanted him to. School dances, spelling competition, kindergarten graduation, the whole nine yards.

But when was the last time they did something as a family. From cooking and eating dinner together nearly every night they went to occasionally seeing the other at the breakfast table before heading out.

Spencer understands her now. He is not better than his father at the moment. He just missed a big event in his daughter’s life and blames it on her. He called her ignorant, even though he is the one that didn’t pay attention. The oh so amazing profiler forgot to show his child that he loves her. That she is more important to him than anything in his life. He needs her in order to function, her love is the only thing that motivates him to do anything.

He knows he has to talk to (Y/N) about it, he was wrong and mean. Spencer just wants to give her time to cool off.

Meanwhile the teenager sits on her bed, staring at the wall. He did it again. He said these hurtful words. Tears stream down her face, but she is numb to them.

Everytime he calls her something, (Y/N) memorizes it. She doesn’t have an eidetic one, but when it’s about mean things, everybody has an elephant’s memory.

Ignorant.

Selfish.

Egoistic.

Childish. And many more.

And her father is right. She is all of the above and so much more.

Maybe he is better off without her. Better off without having to act like he cares for her.

She is a burden, she knows that. Her mother knew that from the beginning, why else would she have left them? Left her? Nobody’s life wouldn’t be better, if she isn’t in it anymore.

(Y/N) thought long and hard about this. Tonight just confirms her thoughts and boostes her decision.

Quietly she makes her way over to the bathroom, locking the door without making a noise. Hidden under towels is her little box. The contents she complained about using for so long.

You locked yourself in the bathroom Lying on the floor when I break through I pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Twenty minutes have passed since (Y/N) smashed her door. Spencer hopes it is enough time for a teenager to cool off. He knocks on her door, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

He tries again.

Nothing.

“Sweetheart? May I come in?”

The silence is louder than any gunshot he heard.

“Sweetheart, I want to apologize. May I open the door?”

Still nothing.

Spencer enters the room, finding it vacant. Oh of course, the moment he wants to talk with her she is in the bathroom. The Reids always had a thing for timing.

He knocks at the bathroom door. “Sweetheart, are you in there? Of course you are. Dumb question. I- I want to apologize. What I said wasn’t right and it was hurtful. Can- can you come out? There are a few things I have to make right.”

To his bewilderment there is no answer. No noises. A whole lot of nothing. This scares Spencer. “(Y/N), please say something. I care. I do. I love you, please answer me”, he desperately says.

Still no answer.

Spencer feels like he doesn’t have a different choice. He takes a step back and a deep breath, remembering what Derek taught him. With a loud crash he kicks the door open.

There she lies. His child. His daughte. The one human he promised to protect no matter what.

Her body lifeless, a small box next to her. Spencer identifies the contents immediately. His heart drops faster than he thought it to be possible.

In an instant he kneels next to (Y/N), pulling her in. His hands are shaking as he tries to take her pulse. “No no no no. NO! (Y/N), baby please open your eyes. Don’t leave me, no! You can’t do that, I love you, I love you so much. Don’t leave me, I need you!”

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

(Y/N) is in and out of consciousness. The dark seconds are terrifying to her. She regrets her choice.

In the seconds she is conscient, she hears a warm voice. The teenager feels safe now that it is there. At first the voice is quiet and blurry, but she is still able to catch a few words.

“Don’t” “Me” “Love you” “Much” “Need”

As her body finally slips away, she feels at ease. These words, it feels like lotion on her wounds. Because she also loves the voice and its person. She needs them like they need her.

Long endless highway, you're silent beside me Driving a nightmare I can't escape from Helplessly praying, the light isn't fading Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones

Spencer acts quickly. He knows his daughter doesn’t have much time left. He picks her up, trying to grab as many important things on his way out as possible. The genius runs to his car, hoping and praying to all the gods above that it will work after months of not using the vehicle. The motor does turn on to his relief.

The drive to the hospital feels longer than any roadtrip Spencer ever went on. The seconds tickle down and just like that (Y/N)’s chances. Chances of a happy ever after with him in her life, hopefully.

Not once does she move, her body looking more like a doll than a human being. Spencer just prays that it won’t be like this for long. He needs her, the light of his life. She can’t fade, she is not allowed to. It will break him. Darken his own light.

He has to be strong now. The glass is half full, the hospital only a few minutes away. (Y/N) will make it. Spencer doesn’t have any other option than that.

They took you away on a table I pace back and forth as you lay still They pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

“I need a doctor! A nurse! Somebody! My daughter, she-” Spencer screams, entering the ER with her lifeless body in his arms. He can’t end the sentence. But it’s also not necessary. A whole team of people crowd around the young man, one of them pulling a stretcher behind him.

Reluctantly Spencer lowers (Y/N) on it, knowing that he can’t do anything more. His child’s fate lies in the hands of the medical staff now. He has to trust them with her. With his lifeline.

One doctor takes her arm, trying to take a pulse. He shouts something, but Spencer’s ears are deaf to his words. Everything goes silent as they pull her away. Away from him.

He falls to his knees as reality hits him. He may not be a father any longer. And it’s his fault and his fault only.

“Please don’t leave me”, Spencer whispers.

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

Lights flash her. They hurt her eyes. But there is a greater pain (Y/N) can’t locate where it’s coming from. Where is her father? She needs him. She has to apologize. There are so many things she wants to say to him. To reassure him that she knows her decision was wrong.

As people continue to scramble around her, the pain intensifies. It becomes nearly unbearable and stops suddenly. The last thing she hears after a shrill high pitched tone is the voice of her father.

“I love you.”

I don't wanna let go I know I'm not that strong I just wanna hear you Saying, "Baby, let's go home" Let's go home Yeah, I just wanna take you home

“Family of (Y/N) Reid?” A doctor asks into the waiting room, looking exhausted. Spencer looks up from the floor. He memorized every little bump while pacing back and forth. He hasn’t called anybody. He doesn’t want to alarm then, not now. The young doctor needs time to understand what’s happening.

“Is she breathing?” is his first question. The doctor's face takes a pitiful look. “We stabilized her. But (Y/N) is still not through. We can’t say if she makes it through the night. If she does, we are sure she will be on a good way to a full recovery. Tonight will be critical for that. But (Y/N) showed us she is a fighter, maybe the chances aren’t that bad.”

Spencer is led through several halls to her room. He sits down in an uncomfortable hospital chair next to his daughter’s bed. Her hand is cold against his warm one. His are still shaking as he brushes a strand of her hair out of her face.

The only thing that Spencer wants right now is for (Y/N) to open her eyes and ask him to go home. He wants to take her there so desperately. But he can’t. Because he is the ignorant one.

“Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you, Sweetheart”, Spencer says, pressing a kiss onto her knuckles.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

@ellyhotchner

[freezethebeez]

catalyst!clingy drabble (aka screech)

You'd held his face between your warm palms. He looked dead; he never looked more at peace.

info: 2nd person pov, mentions/themes of anorexia, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, mentions of suicide

-> fic below the break :]

-

His poetry has left you hollow, shattered, and in ruins. And yet his hands are some of the softest you've ever held.

He's the kind of person that makes you want to kill yourself. It's not because he's bad, rather because he's so good. He's such a gentle soul– filled with so much wonder and hope for the world.

The light in his eyes was so bright when you met him; it's barely flickering now.

You'd jump from the highest building for him. You'd thread your head through the rope to replace his, and you'd pull the trigger with the gun to your head and you'd cram bottles of pills down your throat for him.

Hearing him complain about how his bones ache as he lays against the cold, November ground hurts you a little, too. You let him lay on you; he'd draped himself over you; he'd set his bag of bones on top of yours.

There was one night in the summer where you'd spent the week at his place. You had been sitting on his porch at night, a drink in your hand and a drink in his; yours was nearly empty; his was nearly full. You'd both gone to head inside– the bugs were biting; you'd stood; he hadn't. But you'd caught him before he hit his head.

You'd held his face between your warm palms. He looked dead; he never looked more at peace. And you'd waited patiently. You'd been the first to meet his eyes when they opened– not even his dad bothered peering out the open window after you yelped. He'd smiled at you, apologized, and you'd carried him in. He weighed as much as a child would; he was far from a child.

His head was buried in your chest when he confessed to you. "I haven't been getting better," he'd said. "I can't get better. This is just what I'm meant to be, y'know?" His words were laced with sleep and sincerity and slurred around the edges curtesy of the alcohol you'd provided (his bottle still sat half full on his nightstand, yours empty on his windowsill).

"I know," you said as your hand ran through the thinned hair at that back of his head. You don't know what his breaking point was, exactly, but it wasn't long before the front of your t-shirt began to grow wet with tears and soft hiccups shook you both.

"I'm sorry," he'd squeaked out between silent sobs. "I just don't want to do this anymore."

"Me either," you want to say. You don't. Instead, you repeat yourself, "I know," and you hold him tighter.

He's sick. He'd been sick for a while. He was sick long before you saw him in that hospital bed. A part of you knew this, but didn't want to believe it.

You saw him less when he was sick. Even after he'd been discharged, you hardly saw him. You'd had to take matters into your own hands– and you did; it was the least you could do.

You'd knocked on his front door and had his dad answer. You'd let yourself in and up the stairs to his room and you'd knocked again; he knew it was you by the sound of your footsteps.

He'd call out, you'd walk in.

He was always in his bed; he'd only gone from one to the next. You were allowed in this bed, though. There was always space for you– too much, you think. He wouldn't need to speak. You never did either– not much, at least, only ever a simple, "Album or a podcast?" (something to listen to) and, "C'mere." He'd settle. You'd always end up either laying next to him, holding his hand, or holding him in his entirety– which wasn't much at all at the time.

He's been better, though. He's gotten much better.

He has his rough days where he calls you in tears, telling you that he's not sure whether or not he'll make it through another night. He also has his good days where you've never seen him smile brighter and you've never heard him laugh louder. You've ran with him up a hill– and he's matched you stride for stride.

He no longer looks like death.

[cinnaminsvga]

intermission • vi | moonlight

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jungkook) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none!! it's just jungkook being a cutie!! → words: 3.7K → a/n: this intermission chapter was actually written by @jincherie!! i'm posting it on her behalf since she's currently on hiatus. she had this chapter mostly finished a few months ago and we were waiting to post it until we were both more active (lol) but yeah... things change i guess... anyway see you guys next year (i wanna say /j but really... is it really /j...)

— • masterlist | prev | intermission vi | next • —

Jungkook's strength has never been making friends.

In his mother’s words, a “pleasant and sweet boy” though he might be, that didn’t help much when it came to meeting someone new and the storm of butterflies in his stomach would grow so strong that it froze his limbs and caught his tongue. He’s not too good at first impressions.

A “pleasant and sweet, but terribly shy boy” is actually more along the lines of how Jungkook’s mother describes him, now that he thinks about it. That’s probably a little more accurate.

The sprawling complex he lives in is full of kids, and Jungkook knows each and every one of them. He might be challenged in the social area, but his mother is anything but. She says he takes more after his father, and since his father is usually relaxing inside and reading or drawing when Jungkook sees him at home, he figures that makes enough sense.

Every time someone new moves into the complex, Jungkook’s mother goes to greet them. Of course, he is graciously asked (read: forced) to come along too, just in case they have any kids around his age. This is how he normally meets the other kids on the block. It’s fine, he can’t complain. He has to admit it’s nice meeting all the new and different people that come through. His family is probably one of the ones that have stayed in the complex this long.

When the house next door is emptied of the family he knew, it’s a while before the next one comes in. By the time Jungkook peeks out his window one morning, woken by the telltale sound of a truck beeping as it reverses, and finally sees some movement in the house next to his own, his mother isn’t home. She’d moved into the hospital just a few days earlier, looking ready to pop with the little brother he’d heard so much about in her belly. He’s excited to meet his little brother, and now as he stands on his tippy-toes to get a good look from the window, he finds himself a little excited to meet the new neighbours, too.

It only has a little bit to do with the great, big, fluffy dog they have. Just a little.

It takes a few days for them to move in fully. Jungkook watches from his window every now and then, seeing all sorts of different cars come through. This family has lots of helpers, he notices. By the time they seem to really settle in, Jungkook doesn’t see much of them. Actually, to his disappointment, he doesn’t see anyone around at all. He still hears the dog, glimpses it every so often, but realised that they probably walk it in the mornings before he wakes up.

His mother is home before long, his baby brother cradled in her arms. The first thing she asks as she steps through the door is, “Have the new neighbours moved in? Have you met them yet, Kookie?”

This is perhaps the first time all week he hasn’t cared about the neighbours-- he’s transfixed with his brother. It stays that way for a few days, until the allure wears off when the tiny baby won’t stop crying at night. Perhaps his little brother is something best loved from afar for now, Jungkook surmises.

Back to the window he goes – except this time, there’s actually something to see.

There’s a child! A combination of nerves and excitement bubbles within him as he sees a kid in the backyard playing with the dog, throwing a Frisbee for the massive puppy to leap up and catch in its mouth. The kid looks a little…. feral. Like the baby from that one funny caveman movie he watched with his parents. They’re rolling around with the puppy, uncaring of the way grass and dirt get on their clothes and tangle their hair-- they laugh the whole time. It takes a second for the sound to reach him, but when it does it makes his heart do something funny in his chest.

Ah, the neighbour's kid is a girl.

It’s you.

Jungkook has always been a little more shy around girls, but has never known why. To meet you, he’s going to need his mother there for backup. This is probably the first time he’s outright wanted to go meet one of the neighbours. It’s a little embarrassing, so he elects not to think about it too much.

He thought he would have to pester his mother more to get up and go greet them, but it seems she’s a little sick of being in the house so much because she jumps up the second he mentions it. His baby brother is graciously asleep when they make the trip one morning to the house next door, nestled in his mothers arms looking like an angel wrapped up in fluffy clouds. Jungkook wonders if you’ll like his brother as much as he does. If you don’t, then he doesn’t know how good of a friend you’re going to be.

The doorbell is different, it’s the first thing he notices about the house. Your family must have changed it when you moved in. It’s a bubbly, fun tune now, and he doesn’t even realise the smile it brings to his face. His grip on his mother’s hand tightens, but he misses the fond look she casts over him.

When the door opens, Jungkook thinks his nerves just might eat him alive. He’s so stiff he’s worried he might turn to stone and disintegrate into dust on the spot.

It’s you who answered the door.

You don’t look as wild and unkempt as you did that day he saw you from the window. Actually, your hair is in two cute little buns on top of your head and there isn’t a spot of dirt or grime on your overalls.

The way your eyes light up when you see him and his mother, as well as the baby held to her chest, is enough to make him forget to breathe for a moment. When he remembers, he feels like running his head into the pole of the awning.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mother greets, that big smile on her face that normally wins everyone over. “We’re from the house next door! We wanted to come say hello and meet you. Are one of your parents home too?”

“Hello!” Your response is instant, and the smile you return is so big Jungkook can easily see the gap where you’re missing a tooth. It seems like you’re beating him, he hasn’t lost that one yet. “Yeah, my mama’s home-- you should come in! She said she wanted to meet you guys! Oh, also, we have a puppy! She’s big, and actually maybe she’s too old to be a puppy but… she’s cute. I want you to see her!”

You’re rambling, but you don’t seem to realise. Jungkook couldn’t get a word in edgewise if he wanted to, but he finds himself more than happy to simply listen as he and his mother follow you into the house.

Your mother isn’t as wild as you, but he notices the same little sparkle in her eyes that you have in yours. He wonders if he and his mother have their own matching sparkle. That would be cool.

Right away, his mother hits it off with yours – two socialites of a feather, it seems. You fawn over his baby brother for a few minutes while they talk (he knew right then that you were a good one), before grabbing him by the sleeve and insisting on showing him around. You get a full tour in, and miraculously Jungkook finds it in himself to ask a few questions as you go.

“S-so, you like it? Here?” Every time he opens his mouth the words don’t come out how he wants them, but he can’t do anything now. At least he only stuttered once.

“Yes! It’s so much better than my old house! There’s so many more kids here, and they’re all so nice too!” You’re more than happy to blabber on, a hand thoughtlessly carding through the long, fluffy fur on your dog’s back. Jungkook’s own hand is doing the same (the fur is just as soft and fluffy as he imagined). “There’s more room for Poopie to play, too.”

Jungkook still isn’t quite used to the name of your pet, but something more important in what you said is taking hold of his attention. “Wait, you, uh… you’ve met some of the other kids?”

“Yep,” you say, gaze off in the distance as you try to summon them all from your memory. “Not all of them, but some! Um, I think one of them is named…. Chanyeol…? He lives down the street. Then there’s-- …”

A queasy feeling fills his stomach. He thinks it might be disappointment. For some reason, he thought he was going to come in here and be the first kid you met, that he was going to tell you all about the complex, maybe show you down the street. If you turned out to be a real good egg, then he had even planned to show you his secret place. But now that he thinks about it, it’s a bit silly to think that none of the other families would have come to greet you by now. You’ve been here for more than a week, after all.

He had a good time when visiting you, but for some reason after that day, he finds himself hanging back a bit. He wants to go out and play with you and the other kids, but when he sees you getting along with them so well he’s reminded of that queasy feeling from that day and he stays inside. Which, oddly enough, makes him feel even worse. He feels like no matter what he does, he’s losing progress with you. Maybe you won’t even want to play with him at all, you might think he’s boring after having so much fun with the other kids.

“You gonna go out and play, Kookie?” his mother catches him staring out the living room window one afternoon. She’s bouncing his brother on her hip, the demon baby sated for the time being. “There’s still plenty of time before dark.”

“No, I’m okay,” he answers, hating himself a little bit for it. Why was it so hard to say that yes, he wanted to play, but also that he didn’t. He thinks his mother would be able to help, but he has no idea how to tell her his woes. “I think I might draw a little.”

“Okay, sweets.” She comes over and ruffles his hair. “But if you do decide to go out and play, just let me know so I know where you are, okay?”

He nods, and she leans to kiss his hair before wandering back into the depths of the house. Maybe he will do some drawing, he ponders. It might distract him from the sight of you getting along so well with all the other kids.

Jungkook’s strength has never lain in being outgoing. This proves itself over the months when his attempts to grow closer and befriend you turn out unsuccessful, without fail.

You’ve made a good space for yourself amongst the kids of the block. You’re nice, caring and understanding, and never mean – sure you pushed Chanyeol off the seesaw once, but that was because he was being mean to Suzie. He didn’t do it again afterwards, and peace was maintained in the playground in the park at the end of the complex. Your friendship is sought-after, and with the beginning of the school year looming so close he’s running out of time to establish a friendship between the two of you.

When he spends an afternoon riding his bike at the end of the street, looping around and through the park, it’s definitely not just because you’re sitting there with some of the other girls on the block. When he summons all the knowledge stored in his brain from watching those bike tournaments and attempts to do a little trick, it’s definitely not because he thinks you might be watching. If you happen to see and think he’s cool, then it is what it is. It’s not like he’s actually trying to impress you or anything.

It goes okay, for the most part. His legs are a little tired though. He probably shouldn't attempt the trick he’s thinking of next, but he swears he sees you glance his way and he feels a surge of confidence flow through him. He attempts it.

He botches it.

The bike clatters to the ground and he rolls a bit, but his knees take the brunt of his meeting with the concrete path.

Lucky he wasn’t trying to impress you, because that was pretty humiliating. Lucky you probably didn’t see, either. His knees burn and he feels tears prick at his eyes, probably not just from the pain. He feels so embarrassed, so dumb. He’s touched his bike five times since he got it for his birthday last year, why did he think he would be able to do awesome tricks on it? Dumb, so dumb. He flees the scene before anyone can notice what happened, and completely forgets his bike.

He’s made it all the way home before he even realises it, his vision blurred from the tears that just won’t stop falling and his knees still singing in pain each time he bends them. He almost goes inside, craving a hug from his mother and her gentle hands on his wounds, but then he realises she would ask what happened, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to tell her. It’s too embarrassing. He’s so embarrassed.

So he bypasses the front door, going around the side and slipping through the gate. There’s a tree that lines the side of the house where his window is, and it’s so tall it reaches well above the roof. Without pause, he climbs it, hands finding familiar grooves. He halts, hissing at the sudden sting – it would seem he’s scraped up his palms, too. His eyes burn with the added humiliation and he darts up the tree, making quick work of the climb until he reaches his special spot.

The roof of his house is mostly slanted, but there’s a flat bit at the very top on one side of the house. This is where he likes to go. No one ever looks for him here, plus the view is always very pretty. He doesn’t appreciate the sunset right now, though. He feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

The whole way home, Jungkook held in his cries. He didn’t want anyone to hear and tell his mother. But now, in the embrace of his little ‘safe haven’, he lets them out. He buries his head in his arms and sobs, the pain of moving his palms only making it worse.

He doesn’t know how his little body can handle so much embarrassment, let alone so many tears, but for the moment he doesn’t think about it and surrenders himself to his woes.

He must be up there for a while before his crying ceases. By the time he lifts his head, the last of his tears drying against his cheeks, the sun is just beginning to disappear beyond the horizon. It’s pretty, how it casts light around the shadowy silhouette of the city buildings in the distance. He kind of wants to show it to you. That thought is quickly shut down. He’s going to ask his mother if they can move cities so he doesn’t have to face you again.

Alas, the world just doesn’t seem to be working in his favour today. He hears the rustling of the tree before he sees it. By the time he looks over to investigate, you’re already clambering onto the roof, an oversized fanny pack bursting at the seams with whatever you’ve shoved inside slung over your shoulder.

“Hey!” You greet with a smile, apparently oblivious to the dumbstruck look on his face. “Man, it took forever to find you! If I didn’t see you from the window in my room, I never would have known where you went!”

That was the idea, he laments. He hadn’t wanted to be found.

“Anyway,” you say, plopping down a foot away from him, safely away from the edge of the roof. You swing the fanny pack around so the zip is at your front, and rip it open. Immediately, a tsunami of bandages and band-aids flow forth, fluttering to the tile before you. They’re all sorts of different sizes, but one thing is common across them all – they all have pikachu’s face plastered on them in one way or another. “These are my special band-aids! My mama uses them when I hurt myself, and they always make it heal really quick! I didn’t know how big your owie is, so I brought them all.”

Jungkook is still stunned into silence as you sort through them, organising the chaos at least a little. One of your buns has come loose, he notes. One pigtail, one bun. You look a little more like that wild child he first saw from his window. The knees of your overalls are smeared with dirt, too. He wonders if it got like that while you were looking for him. It makes him feel a little warm inside.

And a little warm outside – his cheeks are starting to burn. He doesn’t remember scratching them too, but maybe he did…?

“Let’s see…” you’re practically just holding a conversation with yourself at this point. He surrenders his leg without protest as you grab it to inspect his knee. “Yep. That’s a big ‘un.”

His whole face has lit on fire. Even his ears feel hot. Is that normal? Probably not. He’d have to ask his mother to take him to the doctor. Maybe he’s dying.

He notices how close you are suddenly, realises this is the first time you’ve been fully alone together (without Poopie), and suddenly he can’t think. Like, at all. He may as well not have a tongue because he can’t remember how to use it anyway.

Somewhere amongst the bandages you’d shoved some tissues. You pull them out now, gently clearing the dirt away from the wounds on his knees. You’re talking as you do it, but his brain is full of static. Your hands are even tinier than his. Is that normal? Wait, no-- they’re the same size. What is he doing…?

Is he going to get in trouble for being alone with a girl…? His mother hasn’t told him about the birds and bees like she said she would yet-- is that what this is? Will he turn into a bird if he gets any warmer? Jungkook doesn’t want to be a bird.

You are placing large plasters over his knees when he finally tunes in to what you’re saying. “… -that last trick was pretty cool, too. It would have been even cooler if you didn’t fall.”

Jungkook squeaks, “You saw that?”

You nod, apparently unaware of his utter humiliation. “Yeah! You’re pretty good on a bike. Can you teach me sometime? I want to show my dad.”

He makes a noise that sounds enough like an affirmation that you accept it, a big grin on your face. For a few more minutes, you finish patching him up.

“There! All done!”

Pikachu stares back up at him from his knees, looking a little wonky because of their shape. The band-aids are a bit wrinkled, but you look so proud of yourself he forces himself to ignore it. He looks up, the words of thanks he took so much courage to summon dying on the tip of his tongue as he sees you.

The setting sun changes the colour of your eyes a bit – it’s pretty, he finds himself thinking. Immediately afterwards, he blushes. Even more embarrassingly, he finds himself unable to help but observe that the sun suits you, actually. Bright, persistent, a little bit sparkly. In the sun’s last reaching rays of afternoon light, you look a bit like you’re glowing.

Of course, Jungkook is used to his silence, but it seems you’re only just noticing it. You seem to misunderstand it’s cause. “Oh, do they hurt?”

Your words tear him from his reverie, and the startled look on his face doesn’t exactly help his case. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise they were that bad-- oh! I almost forgot the next step! My mum always does this whenever I hurt myself.”

Then, without a second spared for him to prepare himself, you lean over and plant a kiss on each of his bandaged knees.

Jungkook thinks he might explode. The entire neighbourhood is going to see him take off and zip through the sky like a rocket. His earlier thoughts of moving cities and changing his name come back full force.

“There, they hurt less now, right?” But you’re still grinning, still bright as ever with shining eyes hoping for a certain response. Despite himself he takes a moment to assess the level of pain he’s feeling – oddly enough, it does feel a bit better.

There’s no way he can manage to say that, though.

Instead he nods, wide-eyed. You let loose a sigh of relief, muttering about how you didn’t know what you’d do if that didn’t work. He swears he catches the slightest warmth in your cheeks, but doesn’t know whether it’s a trick of the sun.

“Thanks,” he finally manages, his voice just shy of a whisper. You hear him anyway and flash that gap-tooth smile his way.

“Of course! This is what friends are for!”

You think of him as a friend? Jungkook can’t help the dumb smile that rises to his face. He likes that. Friends. As the two of you stay on the roof until moonlight begins to filter through the tree and your parents are calling your name, he thinks he’d like for things to stay that way.

He’d like to be friends with you. Always.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.24, FINAL)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twenty Four, FINAL) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,768 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: This took a couple more days than I planned. I had started writing and got to like 1,200 words and then I was like mhm... abandoned that doc and started another. I was grappling between two different paths and I went with the happier one. We’ve had enough angst!

Part Twenty Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

ALT ending (not complete, will not be completed)

Balancing the bowl on your stomach, you laid back eating grapes in silence. You were alone in the apartment. Again. Tony had been acting more distant now that you were really starting to show as you came into your sixth month. It smaller things at first, like you caught him staring at your protruding stomach and he looked away quickly when he noticed you saw or sex being from behind more often than not now. But now it was apparent something was wrong. He slept at home half the week now.

It should not be a shock; he had voiced his opposition to the whole thing from the start and you knew that is what was driving the wedge.

The grapes were doing little to satisfy your craving for French fries. You had just had some yesterday and you were trying to be good today. It was proving to be very difficult when you could just have them delivered and Wylan could bring them up for you.

As if on cue, the apartment door open and the smell of fried food hit your nostrils. You moved the bowl and sat up with some difficulty, spotting Tony walking towards the kitchen with a bag. Your mouth was already watering.

He tossed a look over his shoulder and asked, “Still having the craving?” He took in the look on your face and he cracked a smile. “Looks like it. I see I’ve brought you over to the dark side with it being a comfort food.”

“I don’t want this to last,” you said as you stood up, leaving the grapes behind on the coffee table. “I’ll be hundred pounds heavier if it keeps up.”

You sat down at the table, thankful that you had ordered the pillow covers for the chairs; they were far more forgiving on your backside than the plain hardwood. Tony placed a plate in front of you and handed you the ketchup and mustard before going back for his plate. He sat back down at the table in the chair across the table and began to eat.

Silence fell over the table as you ate some of the fries, paying more attention to them than the burger.

After a little while, you could not stand it anymore and you had to ask.

“Are... are we okay?”

Tony stopped eating and looked up at you with a concerned look. He placed his burger down and gave you his full attention. “What do you mean?”

“You seem… off. You have seemed off. The last couple of months. Like you kind of don’t want to touch me.”

He sighed, rubbing at his face. He looked like he was gathering his thoughts and you stayed quiet.

“It bothers me.” You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say more when he paused. “You’re pregnant, for one. It’s a... thing for me. Just thinking about the baby in there and my dick around it.” You did your best to not crack at that, even the slightest of smirks. You wanted him to explain himself and not interrupt. “But you’re also pregnant with Steve’s kid. It... it makes me uncomfortable.” He paused and chewed on his bottom lip before meeting your eyes. “I don’t like watching him watch you. At the appointments I mean. He’s just... I know how he is and it’s not a good look that he’s giving you. And he’s so touchy feely about it and it makes me angry. Yeah. It makes me angry. That’s it. I hate it. I hate what he did. And he still wins and gets what he wants.”

“He doesn’t have to suffer through any of it and meanwhile you’re over here with body aches and looking down the barrel of the gun of childbirth. And it stresses me out because Steve told me he wanted to be there at the hospital, and I don’t think he should be in the room with you. He doesn’t deserve to be. Because I was done dealing with him after I learned what he had done.” He hesitated and saw you were still listening with rapt attention. He swallowed sharply before his eyes softened and he said calmer, “And it made me angry you gave him this satisfaction. Rewarded him for his behavior in a way. I wish you would have listened to me and just let me pay him out so this wouldn’t be a thing. And now we both have to deal with.”

You were quiet, staring down at your hands.

“I... I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I think about it too. He didn’t even ask if he could touch me when I was on the table the first appointment, he just did it. And I didn’t make a scene. And he just ran with that as permission for whenever he was around me in the room at the appointments, he could touch me however. And still, I didn’t cause a scene because there was a nurse or a doctor in there all the time, and he seemed to know them all, and I didn’t want to have any bad blood with them myself. Just for the baby’s sake. I might not be keeping them but this whole thing isn’t their fault and I want them to have good treatment.”

“And as far as you paying him out… I didn’t want you to do that. I wanted it to be me. I wanted him to get that payment from me so he couldn’t write it off as someone else just taking care of me. And not take me seriously when I said I wanted to be done. It means more coming from me. It sucks, this whole thing is not a cakewalk. But, I think it’ll be worth it in the end. I didn’t have control of the situation at the beginning, but I do now. I made the decision.”

Tony was letting what you said sink in. He grabbed a fry and ate it slowly, looking lost in thought. He finally leaned back and met your eyes again.

“I get that,” he said sounding sincere. “It always means more if you’re the one that made the effort. Not just for them but for you.” He nodded and then said, “And I’m sorry for making you feel lonely.”

Trying to joke, you said, “I’ve got Luna.”

“I hope I’m not that easily replaced.”

“No. You’re not.”

He smirked briefly before saying, “Only three more months.”

“Or less.”

“Or less. Way to be hopeful.”

<><><>

You had had false contractions before, but these were stronger. And they were going on for longer than they had before. Gritting your teeth, you wobbled to the door and opened it.

“Terrence!” you called down the hallway. He was there quickly, and you leaned against the doorframe. “It’s bad.”

“What’s bad?” He asked sounding worried.

“The contractions. They’re longer and hurt. I think it’s time!”

“Let me call Tony.”

He whipped out his cell phone and dialed. He was speaking to him quickly. “Hey, Y/N says she thinks it’s time? I’m not sure. She said they’re longer and hurt more?” You gasped as you felt a pop internally and then wetness. You grasped at your crotch and felt dampness. Terrence had followed your hand and he looked slightly more pale. “Anddddd, I think her water just broke. Do you want me to take her?”

<><><>

A soft cry greeted you as you woke up. When they had brought you into the room, you had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted. How long had you been sleeping? You turned your head to the right seeing the baby next to your bed, fussing weakly. There was a nurse there and she noticed you were awake.

“Perfect timing, momma. I think he’s hungry.”

“It’s still here?”

“Yes?” The nurse said looking completely confused by your reaction and probably more so that you called him ‘it’. She watched you closely, looking suspicious.

Clearing your throat, you adjusted in the bed and asked, trying to sound calm, “Has... has the father come yet?”

The nurse shot a look in the corner, looking even more confused than before. You did not have time to follow her gaze before Tony’s voice sounded, “I only texted him five minutes ago.”

He was sitting on the built-in bench along the window. You had not even noticed him, all your focus on the small life next to you.

“He’s probably trying to get away from whatever he’s doing and get through traffic,” Tony continued.

So, Tony had not called Steve while it was happening. You had been in labor for five hours. Steve was not going to be happy that Tony had not contacted him, and he had missed the birth while Tony had been there instead. But you were relieved that Steve had not simply blown it off; when you had been in the delivery room, the thought had flashed through your mind.

The nurse raised up your bed and helped you open your gown. She adjusted a pillow to rest on your stomach and went back to grab him. You were hesitant but you held out your arms all the same, taking him gently from the nurse. She helped push his blanket so he was bare against you. You were trying to not be stiff feeling the contact.

“A little closer. The skin-on-skin contact is good,” the nurse encouraged.

Doing as she said, you forced yourself to relax more. His mouth was wet, and you shivered, causing the nurse to chuckle softly, saying to not worry, you would get used to that.

No you wouldn’t, you thought instead of saying it out loud.

Your finger traced along his cheek as he sucked, his little hand resting on your breast next to his mouth. He was calm now, serene in his eating.

“Looks like you’re a natural,” the nurse commented happily. “Be thankful for that!”

“He’s fine, then?” you asked her, looking up.

She nodded, “Healthy as can be.”

“Good,” you said quietly, looking back down at him. You searched his small face, trying to see any part of Steve. The nose maybe, but it was a little wide. His eyes had not been open long enough for you to see and you were not going to disturb him, choosing to keep him comfortable as he fed.

<><><>

You were woken again when you heard people speaking. Blinking awake, your vision cleared to Steve and Tony talking in low voices by the door.

“You fucking prick,” Steve was saying, sounding pissed. “I told you—”

“I was a little preoccupied as you can imagine,” Tony retorted quietly.

Steve spotted you were awake over Tony’s shoulder, and he sucked his teeth before clearing his throat. Snapping his head back to Tony, he said in a dangerous voice, “I’d like the room. If you can find it in yourself to back off for just a while.”

Tony looked over his shoulder, seeing you watching, and sighed before walking back over and grabbing his coat, sunglasses, and phone. He leaned over you and said, “I’ll be back.” He gave you a quick peck on the top of the head before moving past Steve, the two of them sharing a cold look.

Steve walked further into the room, and you were fixated on him for a moment before you turned your attention towards where the baby was sleeping. He approached and looked down at them, a small smile painted on his lips. Reaching out, he touched their cheek, his smile growing.

“Look at him,” Steve said quietly. “Perfect as can be.” He met your eyes and asked, “No complications?” You shook your head. “Good. And he fed?” You nodded again. “Look at you. Perfect as can be too. Though I am not surprised about that.”

Always with the flattery.

He collapsed into the chair beside the little bed and yours. He looked disappointed when he said, “I wanted to be here.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I was a little busy.”

“I’m not blaming you. I should’ve known Tony would be an ass about it. Always has to get a jab in. This one was taking it a little too far but I’m just glad everything went okay and you’re alright.”

“I was surprised he was still here when I woke up afterwards,” you told him honestly.

Steve told you, “I’ll take him when you are ready to discharge. It would look odd for me to take him before. Would raise a lot of questions that I don’t feel like getting into with the hospital.” That made enough sense to you. “Plus, let him get as much milk as he can from you before he switches over to formula and my wife’s. I’m worried he won’t take to hers but maybe he won’t be picky.”

He had never told you the specifics about what was going on with her child and you had not asked. You were sure you did not want to know.

“Well, he latches well enough to me. I hope she doesn’t have any trouble,” you said sincerely. Steve was watching you intently and you asked slowly, “What?”

His voice was soft, “Don’t you want to know what his name is?”

“No,” you told him sharply.

“Don’t want to get attached? I know a name can do that.”

“I don’t want to know,” you repeated firmly.

Steve looked sour for a brief moment before he remarked, “I’ll fill the paperwork out then, so you don’t have to see it. Have they dropped it off yet? The birth certificate paperwork, I mean.” You shrugged and he said, “I guess I’ll have to ask one of the nurses when they come in.”

“I’ll be staying here,” he continued on. “Just to make sure I get that paperwork and I’m here when you discharge. Won’t be leaving that up to Tony again. Unlike him, I’ll text him when you’re ready to go so he’s here to get you and you aren’t stranded here upon discharge. I’d take you myself, but Cecile is going to come to be able to go home with me and… the baby.” He had almost slipped up and you had a feeling he had done it on purpose.

He sat forward again, pulling the little bed closer to him, peering over at the little bundle.

“You did good, dove,” he murmured, his eyes fixated on his son. “I never doubted you for a second.”

<><><>

You stood up from the wheelchair and stood up, stretching a little. “Now that that’s over,” you muttered as Tony opened the passenger door. You had been annoyed they had insisted that you had to take a wheelchair out of the hospital. You had been in there for two days and you just wanted to walk more than just around your room, although that had not been recommended. You needed to take it easy while your body healed.

Steve’s voice sounded from behind you, and you turned your head, seeing him walking out with a woman. Your eyes snapped down to the bundle in her arms, seeing the little boy she was cradling. As if she sensed you, she looked over, locking eyes. You saw her eyes flick to Tony and you saw in real time the realization wash over her features before her eyes snapped back to you.

“Come on, Y/N,” Tony said at the same time as you tore your gaze away from her. His hand was around you, guiding you into the car.

The door closed behind you, and you waited for him to get inside. He was quiet when he did, pushing the start button on the car.

You snuck a glance in the side mirror and saw they were gone, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Could’ve done without that,” you exhaled.

“I’m sure she could have too,” Tony replied as he pulled away from the curb.

The city passed by as he weaved in and out of traffic. Your hands rested in your lap, watching the buildings go by. Your hand slipped up and you felt a small pang of loss at the flat abdomen you were greeted with. Your fingers flexed in, trying to force yourself to remember this is what normal was.

You startled slightly, pulled from your thoughts as Tony’s fingers slipped around yours, coming in between yours and your stomach. He closed his grip, holding your hand tight, bringing it back down to your thigh. He was quiet but he squeezed your hand reassuringly.

It was going to be okay, you told yourself.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16 @last-saturday-night @woohoney

[remakethestars]

RAVENCLAW 💙🦅🤎

Headcanons.

❝Even in the blackness, light can be found. My enemy can be outsmarted.❞

— Alex Hirsch, Journal 3

This is my house, y'all; buckle up!

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, & Slytherin. Headcanon masterlist.

The door'll let you in for witty responses.

We prop it open during exam season, when everyone's coming back from dinner, on party nights, & when no one can solve the riddle.

Questions become more difficult to answer after curfew.

Everyone waits outside & pretends not to know first night until the first-years figure it out.

Today's riddle & answer posted on the back of the door every morning; check before you leave just in case.

Sometimes you find the prefects debating over what the answer is; no one leaves the common room until someone's figured it out, so sometimes, the entirety of Ravenclaw is late to breakfast.

Again, if we absolutely can’t, we’ll prop it open.

If the door’s propped open and you remove the prop, we’ll use the guillotine on you.

Everyone has at least one hill to die on.

There's a podium by the fireplace with a record book on it of all the books in Ravenclaw's library that you can ask for help finding books from (pages flip in their own). 

If you’re in a reading slump, describe what you're looking for; we've probably got it!

If you don't like writing & highlighting in the books, it'll disappear while you have it, but everyone's free to mark in them. 

So good at reading their own messy notes and the notes their friends wrote they can read a doctor's handwriting.

And there are notes everywhere. As organized as some Raveclaws wish they could be, you can't make notebooks & journals as organized as Google Doc & Word documents. Unless, ya know … someone made a spell for that — hold on, I gotta write that down!

Professors find notes — ideas for spells & potions — on the back of homework & tests. More knowledgeable teachers will add their ideas or advice before handing it back.

Everyone leaves a copy of their favorite book with annotations before they leave seventh year. 

There's a coffee/tea cart in the common room. 

Hallways to the dorms are covered in graffiti from students long passed.

Dorms branch off based on your year. 

Girls can walk into the boy's dorms & vice versa. 

All rooms are extended for more space.

Beds are built into the wall like window seats & have bookshelves where the head and footboards should be. 

Dark blue curtains can be drawn shut if you're feeling introverted. 

Trunks go under the bed, so they're kinda high off the ground.

Cast an extension charm if you’re claustrophobic.

At the end of every year, everyone congregates in the common room, someone casts glisseo on the stairs to Ravenclaw tower, & everyone slides their trunks down (it's called "the trunk shoving").

No one gives a single sh¡t about house points.

Ravenclaw’s are always blowing something up & losing points.

Dramatic about stubbing their toe, but super casual about ending up in the hospital wing because they "wanted to test a hypothesis."

If you have a question or don't understand something, ask it loudly in the common room; someone will undoubtedly answer or direct you to another who can.

Just don't use bad grammar, or sixteen people will correct you in unison. 😅

Learn (a) new language(s) in the common room 20:00–21:00 Mon.–Fri.

Tutoring sessions are in the common room at 21:00–22:00 Mon.–Fri. Or ask for private lessons to work around your schedule.

If a particular teacher's sh¡t, we host a class in the common room after dinner.

Also, there're just classes for random stuff: art, budgeting, codes & code-breaking, cooking, dancing, darning, fencing, ice skating (in the winter months), knot tying, lock picking, makeup, Morse code, muggle martial arts, sewing…

First years are all offered a class on note taking.

A lot of us do our homework on Friday night so we don't have to worry about it all weekend, so there're no party activities tonight, but you can play a muggle board game if you want.

Karaoke on Saturday nights.

Dungeons & Dragons on Sunday nights.

D&D’s swapped out for a play once a month; screw the theater ban! (For an explanation of Hogwarts’s theater ban, see Albus Dumbledore’s notes on “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” in The Tales of Beedle the Bard.)

Morning yoga in the common room — feel free to join; we'll teach you some poses.

Ask around; whatever you're looking for — info, candy, contraband — someone probably hands it out, sells it, can get it for you, and/or can tell you where to find it.

Pass around a spell that allows them to clean themselves. Who has time for showering?

And a potion that gives them the same feeling & energy as if they slept. Who has time for sleeping?

Yes, we're building a guillotine in the common room.

Please don't utilize it in the decapitation of any living person or thing (unless it's the Snape or Umbridge)!

Our next project is a carousel. With working lights & everything.

Yes, we're building a house of cards in the common room; please don't blow on it.

Be quiet until noon on the weekends or get hexed.

Thank Merlin they teach sign language in the common room every year & everyone knows enough to get by.

Parties are highly regulated.

People volunteer to walk people back to their dorms & put up protection charms so you don't get assaulted. Those people are vetted with Veritaserum first to confirm the authenticity of their intentions.

People often get into academic debates, which can get a bit loud; just silencio them & move on.

The entrances to the dorms are hidden behind moving bookshelves.

The Ravenclaw copy of Hogwarts: A History will tell you more than you realized you needed to know; there're enough notes in the margins to make a second book, including how to enter the kitchens, how to sneak out if the castle, how to find the Room of Requirement…

They've located more secret passages & rooms in Hogwarts using spells they created than the Marauders were aware of.

First-years are told how to put extension charms on their backpacks so they're not heavy — that's a crap-ton of stairs.

There's an incredibly thick book by a armchair near the fireplace that's full of testaments of Ravenclaw's alumni. "What's one thing you wish you'd known when you started Hogwarts?" First-years are encouraged to flip through it.

And taught a low-concentration spell for levitating books while laying down so your arms don't get tired (flick wand to turn page).

Common room's extended to fit all kinds of activities (and the bookshelves).

Some third-years built an aquaponic system on top of one of the window seats; take a cucumber, if you want, or stop to look at the fish.

Again, explosions are not uncommon. (Please don’t drop any explosives in the fish tank. As water isn’t as compressible as air, this will kill the fish.)

Everyone just kinda glances over to make sure you’re okay before going back to what they were doing.

There's always a record playing.

They host a hike through the Forbidden Forest once a week, because what even are rules?

If you hear an intelligent conversation taking place, feel free to sit down & listen or jump in!

The wind whistles against the windows all year round, but they've been charmed to keep water out.

Played The Floor is Lava before it was a meme.

There's a two-way mirror on the wall above the fireplace. There's a muggle television on the other side. No one's sure whose T.V. it is, but a lady comes in in the mornings in hair curlers & watches the news.

She puts in V.H.S. tapes of Disney movies at the start of term. Hypothesis says it's for the first years & this person's a half-blood or a muggle-born.

Sometimes, people work together to solve the Friday crossword in The Daily Prophet. It's the hardest all week.

Look at each other like they're the camera in The Office when someone says something stupid.

Oh, boy, if someone's found a really good mystery book… That sh¡t’s getting magically copied & passed around. We discuss theories at meals, pass notes in class, & set up a murder board in the common room.

Actually, Ravenclaw house has solved a number of murders in its free time.

Visit my Ravenclaw YouTube playlist & Pinterest board.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[woozisnoots]

losing you | yoon jeonghan

° pairing: jeonghan x f!reader, jun x f!reader ° genre: soulmate!au, bittersweet angst ° summary: losing me is better than losing you. ° word count: 1.5k ° warnings: implied death but details aren’t explicit! i promise the fic itself isn’t bad >< ° a/n: TEEHEE @vibecheckvernon​​ SURPRISE I’M UR TCT SECRET SANTA !!!! 😌 posted this a little later for prime angst reading times :D I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS!!! p.s. pls don’t sue me i love you <3

inspired by: @95boysbe​ ‘s fic, ‘when you love someone’ (tysm for all of you for helping me find this again! 💓 pls go check out their work as well!) + wonho’s song ‘losing you’

masterlist!

jeonghan has no intentions of going to his family’s christmas party. at least not this early. looking into his appearance in the mirror, he wraps the red checkered scarf around his neck so the ends nicely drape over his white long sleeve shirt tucked under his matching sweater vest. a festive look to hide away his disinterest buried in his “enthusiasm”.

“daddy, are you not coming with us?” jeonghan jolts by the sudden tugging of his sweater from his side, looking over, forcing his eyes to meet with his daughter’s watery orbs.

he crouches down to one knee so he’s completely eye level, tucking in the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “not yet sweetheart. daddy’s gotta pick up a few things for the party.” he opens his arms wide for the tiny human to bury herself in a bear-like embrace. 

“stay by mommy’s side at all times, okay?” the little girl steps back to face her father, her hands gripping onto jeonghan’s index finger. “promise?” he continues to persist until she sniffles a series of nods. a small melancholy smile creeps onto jeonghan’s face as he wiggles himself out of her powerful grasp and cups her cheeks, creating small circles on her soft cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“good girl. i’ll be back before you notice i’m gone.” 

the walk there is shorter than jeonghan was expecting and it almost makes him sick to his stomach. he wants the anticipation to subside by the time he gets there, yet at this rate, he would arrive with nothing but the swell of guilt weighing down inside of him. 

the winter chill makes him shiver, hiding his balled fists in his pockets. the farther he walks, this once familiar street slowly turns into the abyss as the fog erases his footsteps along with the glimmery lights surrounding him. but jeonghan is only focused on the dark pathway ahead of him. weeks after hearing the news, and an additional few months of “recovery”, his imagination has conditioned him for far worser environments than some cold weather. 

the field of clean cut grass beside him is now closed off, barred by a wired fence painted white indicating he was getting close. it was a foolish thing really. this entire time, from the moment jeonghan left the house until now, he’s been trying to find the right words to say to you. what he would say to you if you were willing to hear him out. question he desperately wants answered. jeonghan lowers his head, scoffing under his breath knowing you probably would have. even though he knew himself that he didn’t deserve it. and neither did you. 

he comes to a pause at the entrance, reaching out to maneuver the chains that lock the gateway. taking a slow deep breath in, jeonghan looks up before entering the place of the dead, only to see that you already had company. 

the hint of discomfort causes jeonghan’s body to stiffen - the sight of an tall, unfamiliar man here with you triggering his fight or flight response, his instincts urging for the first rather than late. why would he be at a place like this? and on christmas no doubt.  

jeonghan takes his time walking towards you both, eyeing his physique up and down from afar. as he got closer, he examines the man’s notable facial features. the longer he stares, the more confused jeonghan gets causing him to crease his eyebrows. neither of you know him. jeonghan shakes the thought away- no, he doesn’t know him. maybe within the time you were away, the two might have met. jeonghan keeps his mind neutral, accepting all the possibilities. 

the mysterious man dressed down in this cold december, notices jeonghan walking this way before he could stop in his tracks to presenting himself in front of you. chuckling at the grimace look on jeonghan’s face. 

as respectful as he could possibly mutter, jeonghan opens his mouth to speak, “who-”

“so you must be yoon jeonghan,” he’s quick to cut him off, knowing exactly what might be running through his mind right now. he nods his head towards him, acknowledging the new, delighted presence that fills the air. “my name’s jun.” he watches as the imaginary fumes streaming from the top of jeonghan’s head start to dissipate. “a friend of hers back in america,” he lied, not that jeonghan would ever know anyways. “she talked a lot about you. it almost got annoying. 

just like how jeonghan did, jun studies him in his entirety. a smirk forming on his lips finding that he looked exactly how you described. as well as his own description: a good for nothing low life with faltering loyalty. jun scowls at the ring wrapped around jeonghan’s finger. “talk about that red string of fate, huh,” his words protrude the thick musk that wavers around them, finally breaking jeonghan’s walls. “don’t mind me though. i’m just here to pay my respects as a friend,”jun says, his words laced with sarcasm. 

jeonghan freezes in his spot, feeling only a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes as the flood of memories of the two of you replay in the back of his mind. the entirety of your childhood, including your teenage and what was there for your college years. until the dreaded day you decided to leave. “so, you knew?” he whispers more so for his curiosity rather than looking for an actual answer. 

and from the look on jeonghan’s face, jun could tell. “yeah,” he says just enough for jeonghan to hear. “i knew a lot.” he averts his eyes away from the soft hearted gaze that now appears on jeonghan’s face. 

jun may not have known you the same amount of time as jeonghan did. but the way you wore your heart on your sleeve despite being so vulnerable even after the fact, jun can pluck out things even jeonghan probably never noticed. how jeonghan could ever leave his soulmate for someone else, jun will never fathom at the thought. 

but jun knew your side of the story, how you felt watching your soulmate drew you guys apart. no, he wasn’t your friend per say, not in his official title anyway. when you were admitted into the hospital, jun was only there as a volunteer. he had a responsibility to look after all his assigned patients as comfort companions through their clinical care, including you. 

you were the hospital’s one exception. at the point of your critical condition, doctors truly didn’t know when the time would pass. knowing no one else in the states aside from your family, jun soon became your side by side as hospital bed buddies. and hated every moment of it. 

he hated the way you smiled so brightly for him every day despite how sick you were. but stare blankly at your food whenever it came to you and end up not eating. he hated how you easily created friendships with the nurses and other caretakers at hospital, including himself. but refused to take your medication. he hated how fondly you talked about love when you weren’t feeling it. he hated hearing the sniffles that came from your room every morning after he clocked in. he hated it so much that you still smiled saying your soulmate's name even though he was doing the same thing for someone else. in the end, jun was too late to tell you all that.

fate, being the sick bastard that it is, has jun meeting the one person he actually came to hate. and he’ll do one better. just like how jeonghan never got to know about your true feelings and conditions, jun will never tell him how much he truly cared for you. how he was entirely convinced he, a person who wasn’t even destined to have a soulmate, could fill the void that jeonghan had left. 

the longer jun stands there, the small pit of anger quietly begins to boil and that was his cue to leave. he avoids eye contact as he stirs away from the flowers he left you and tries to make his exits, stopping at his tracks when jeonghan speaks once again.

“then can i ask you something? your opinion as her friend. since you know,” he hiccups, the words coming out a beat too late. his voice also shaky, not knowing if it was due to the cold or the rise of his nerves. 

jun leans on one leg, stuffing his hands in the side pockets of his leathered coat. he almost says no. he wants to say no. “shoot,” sounding unbothered. 

“do you think she’d still want to be my soulmate in a different life?” 

jeonghan’s heart churns at his own question, as does jun’s. he could have asked any other question, but out of the hundreds he accumulated in the mile walk here, jeonghan figured this was the one that jun could at least give some thought. 

jun takes a sharp inhale in, his nails forming small crescent moons into his palm. with a heavy sigh, he turns back around and scoffs at the sight of jeonghan tearing up in front of you. and with gritted teeth, he responds.

“of course she would.”

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 1

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!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,” he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Two: Conjugate

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): invasions of privacy

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

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You sighed as the nurse pulled the IV out of your arm. The muscles in your body relaxing for the first time in hours.

"There we are," the nurse said. "Looks like you'll be out of here in a few hours. Just make sure not to get too far from that man of yours."

You smiled up at her, not wanting to explain that he wasn't your man and that you'd only just learned his name from a news broadcast a few hours ago. When Eunji had texted you that he was an idol, you'd thought she was joking. She was drunk after all and probably would've called any guy flirting with you an idol.

"This is crazy," Eunji said. "What're you going to do?"

"I don't know," you said. "I guess I'll have to contact him somehow."

"Did you get his number?"

"No, we never intended to see each other again."

"Well, he's looking for you."

---

"Jang Sumi?" a man asked, knocking politely as he entered.

"Yes?"

He bowed politely as he entered.

"I'm Bang Sihyuk, CEO of BigHit Entertainment," he said.

Your eyes grew wide and you immediately bowed, feeling slightly embarrassed you hadn't recognized him and done so before.

"We would like to discuss a proposal with you. If you'd please sit down," he said, pointing to the newly made hospital bed.

You sat down and the man sat down in the chair Eunji sat when you first awoke. "We have reason to believe you are Min Yoongi's soulmate. I'm sure the doctors have already explained that this means the two of you must remain near each other."

You nodded.

"In order to protect his career, we would like you to move into the BTS dorm. We will pay you and compensate you for any trouble."

"What about my career?" you asked.

The man nodded, his shoulders relaxing as if he'd expected you to question him.

"We've done our research and you're an English tutor? You can continue online sessions and do occasional in-person sessions away from the dorm. We don't want to take away your livelihood by any means. We want to protect both of you."

Your mind overflowed with thoughts. You'd be living with seven guys. Seven idols. Would girls get jealous? Would their fans even know? You had too many questions for the man to possibly answer.

You could certainly use the extra money and without having to pay rent, it would allow you to begin saving money. Something you'd wanted since you'd moved out.

You'd have to work less though, but you were sure the compensation that BigHit offered would be more than enough to make up for the fewer hours.

"All right," you said. "As long as I can keep my job, I agree."

---

"Boys, this is Jang Sumi," Bang PD said.

You bowed to the seven boys in front of you, secretly wishing the much more charming Eunji hadn't gone home. Even though it was obvious they had rushed to the hospital based on the various array of sweatpants and messy hair, they all still looked gorgeous.

The boys bowed back and their gazes wandered down to your neck, their eyes wide. You hadn't noticed the bruises there from the night before. You shyly broke eye contact and looked over to Yoongi who sat with his feet dangling off the hospital bed.

You met his dark eyes. Instead of the mysterious and hungry look they'd held the night before, they now looked exhausted and slightly annoyed. His gaze left yours momentarily as his eyes looked down at the bruises on your neck. His face remained expressionless except for a small flick of his tongue between his lips.

"The doctors need to run a few more tests and talk with Yoongi and Sumi," Bang PD said. "We should leave them alone"

The six other boys filed out of the room and you took a seat on the bed next to Yoongi, leaving a large space between you, so that it would be nearly impossible to accidentally brush against one another.

"Hi," you said. "So, it's been an interesting day, huh?"

The boy didn't respond and before you could make more futile attempts to fill the silence two doctors walked into the room.

"Min Yoongi and Jang Sumi?"

You both nodded and bowed.

"All right, I know this is all a bit overwhelming right now, but once we all discuss and decide on the various options, I'm sure you'll feel better." The doctor flipped a few pages on his clipboard before looking back up at you. "So, as you both know, this is still a fairly rare condition. Finding one's soulmate and having it cause heart attack like symptoms is not well understood. Due to this, we request at least monthly check-ups for at least the first year for both of you to ensure your heart is okay and to check your overall health. The rest depends on how the two of you choose to proceed. Are you two currently in a relationship?"

"No," you both answered.

The doctor nodded.

"The easiest and best way to proceed is to attempt a relationship. While it might be awkward at first, for your overall general health, it will be the best way to adjust and will allow the withdrawals to be less frequent and violent in the future. If--"

"No," Yoongi said. "We can't do a relationship."

"What do you mean?" you asked, your head whipping around to face him. The last thing you wanted was to be in a relationship with a man you barely knew, especially the day after you'd officially ended it with your ex. But if the doctors said it was the best way to deal with the situation, you were inclined to listen.

"It's for both of our own good," he said. "You have no idea what a relationship with an idol would be like."

"Well, there are other options," the doctor said, glancing between the two of you. "If you truly don't want to be together, we can work on trying to weaken or even sever the connection between you. It is rare and difficult to do, but it has been achieved. You will have to stay in the same building as the other person most of the time. There do seem to be some exceptions such as work or situations where the other absolutely can't be present. However, at first, these withdrawals will be powerful and you may not be able to leave the building without the other person at all. For the first week, we suggest not doing so.

"In order to attempt to sever the connection, we will have to monitor your mental health and work to keep the relationship on track. While you don't have to remain distant from each other, it is important to not have feelings for each other, or else it will not work. You will have monthly or bi-weekly appointments with a psychiatrist who is trained to work with cases like this.

"You will also experience something we like to call urges. These are instances of extreme attraction to one another. It will be extremely difficult to be apart from each other during these times. It is important that you be together in these times, but if you are choosing not to pursue a relationship, you must do your best to resist the attraction."

After the doctor was done explaining everything and had recorded your decision to attempt and sever the connection, they drew blood from both of you and allowed you to leave.

---

You'd spent the rest of the day packing. Your things were going to be confined mostly to one room, meaning you had to downsize and choose what was most important to you.

You heard a knock on the door and before you could answer it, it was already open and Eunji and the entirety of BTS came through your door.

"Sorry if I scared you," Eunji said. "I let them in."

"Sumi," the tallest one said. He was the leader, Kim Namjoon, according to Google. You figured you should at least try to learn your new roommates. He introduced himself and the rest of the boys, other than Yoongi. "We decided to help you pack up before the movers get here. I'm sure it's quite overwhelming to have to move all of a sudden."

"Yes," you said. "This is very sweet. I guess, um, you could help clean up a bit? I haven't had a chance to clean the kitchen since I got home. And, maybe someone else wouldn't mind getting dinner?"

"No problem," Namjoon said, motioning to the members.

"I'll be in my bedroom if you have any questions or need me for anything."

Eunji was already bonding with the younger members of the band and showed them where all of the cleaning supplies were kept. You smiled at her ability to make friends quickly and headed back to your bedroom.

Your suitcase laid open on your bed as you sorted through your clothes, trying to decide what to keep. You'd already packed the essentials, the rest of your closet spread out around the suitcase.

You felt something soft beneath your foot. You bent down and picked up the fabric, recognizing it as the dress you'd worn out the night before. You hated to leave it behind it, but you weren't sure you would need such a nice dress again. And if you did, you could just borrow one of Eunji's. You folded the dress and were attempting to make a decision when a knock sounded on your door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Yoongi walked in. He wore a beanie, a sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans. You almost liked the more casual look on him more than the slightly more dressed up look he'd worn when you first met. You weren't sure if you truly liked it better or if it was just the connection between you talking.

"Sorry to intrude," he said. "I was just wondering if you needed any more help? The rest of the boys pretty much have it handled out there."

You tried to put aside the resentment you felt for the boy from earlier in the day when he so bluntly decided not to follow the best option and try the relationship.

"You can pack up my knitting stuff," you said pointing over to your desk in the corner where you kept yarn, knitting needles, and the various guides. "Just be careful not to tangle the different yarns together."

He nodded and grabbed an empty box and carefully placing each skein in the box. You turned back to the dress in your hands. You fingered the soft fabric and sighed as you went to set aside. Before you could set the dress with the rest of your discarded clothes, you felt a hand take it from you. You looked up at Yoongi, who held the dress and placed it into the suitcase.

"It looks good on you."

---

"You like to knit?" Yoongi asked, a few minutes later.

"Yeah," you said. "It calms me down when I'm stressed."

He nodded as he placed the rest of the items from the desk into the box.

"Sumi!" someone called from the hallway.

"What do you want us to do with this?" one of the boys asked, you believed his name was Jimin, followed by a blond-haired boy, Taehyung. Jimin dangled your stuffed cat in the air, a smirk across his face.

"Hey!" you said. "Don't hold Kitty that way!"

The boy laughed as you snatched the stuffed animal from him. One of Kitty's button eyes was loose and dangled slightly, causing her eyes to look uneven.

"You named it Kitty?" Jimin asked laughing.

Eunji came into the room. She seemed slightly annoyed with the two boys who had run off from their duties.

"I was four!" you said, looking down at the stuffed cat. "Besides, it's an English name!"

"All right, all right," Jimin said, relenting his taunts. "Do you want to take Kitty or not?"

You made eye contact with Eunji who's eyes were wide. She knew what Kitty meant to you, but Kitty was also falling apart. Her eye was the least of her trouble, you'd sewed the majority of her seams back together multiple times. You didn't want to risk Kitty getting lost or falling apart altogether. You knew it was time to let her go.

"She is pretty old and I'm getting too old for toys anyway. Um, I guess put her in with the donation pile." You handed the stuffed animal back to Jimin who took it and hesitantly walked from the room.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes, but you held them back and went back to sorting through your clothes. The task felt harder all of a sudden, but eventually, you finished, zipping up the suitcase.

---

It was late by the time you arrived at the dorm. It was huge, the biggest apartment you'd ever seen. It was surprisingly clean for being inhabited by seven boys, but you figured they were just too busy to cause much of a mess.

The extra bedroom they'd been using as storage was already clear for you. You made your bed and then opened your suitcase and began emptying it into the dresser.

"Need some help?" Namjoon asked, standing in the doorway.

You smiled at the boy as he began sorting your clothes, making it easier for you to put away.

"Thank you," you said. "I'm exhausted and I'm honestly dreading the rest of the boxes getting here tomorrow."

He nodded.

"We've moved a lot," he said. "Sometimes I feel more tired after moving than dance practice."

You both laughed lightly.

"They told me you're an English tutor?"

"Yeah," you said.

"It'll be nice having someone else who can speak English."

"None of the other boys can?"

He shook his head.

"No, they all understand a little. But none of them are fluent."

"We'll have to change that then," you said, laughing.

"How'd you learn it?"

"My mom grew up in the US. Her parents were from here but moved to the US when my mom was a baby. She met my dad when she was here visiting family and she ended up moving when they got married. So, I grew up speaking both Korean and English. My parents recently moved to the US actually, to be closer to my grandparents."

"Wow," he said. "That's a better story than mine. I just watched Friends."

You laughed.

"That's more impressive though. You taught yourself. I kind of just learned it the same time I learned Korean."

You felt some of the nerves you'd felt coming into the dorm beginning to leave you. While you were sure it would talk longer for you to adjust, the boys had all tried to be as helpful and welcoming as possible. Even Yoongi. Despite the fact he'd barely talked to you, he still helped pack up your apartment.

"Sumi," you heard another voice say. You turned around and saw Yoongi standing in the doorway, his eyes focused on his phone. "We have a problem."

"What?" you asked, your eyebrows knitting together.

"Someone found your shoes."

"My shoes? You mean, the ones I left at the bar last night?"

Yoongi nodded.

"Someone is selling them online. They're using the connection to me to get attention. The bidding ends tomorrow."

You grabbed onto the dresser and tried to steady yourself. You'd expected something like this to happen eventually, but just twenty four hours after you'd even met Min Yoongi?

You heard Namjoon say something to Yoongi, but you didn't catch what it was. You felt a hand on your shoulder and saw the leader looking straight at you.

"We're going to get this figured out."

All you could do was nod.

[moldisgoodforyou]

ten voicemails

wordcount: 2.6k

______

Through the entirety of Rafe and Sophie doing long distance, he had been great about keeping it to himself that he missed her. He knew that sharing it once in a while was alright, but too much and he was convinced he’d make her upset and ruin her study abroad experience - the last thing he wanted to. He even put his phone away most times if he was going to get drunk, knowing he’d probably end up drunkenly confessing something he shouldn’t. He had a great track record - until he didn’t. 

He had to admit, he was feeling himself. Earlier that day, he’d FaceTimed her after his long-overdue haircut appointment, at her request. She had answered the phone in a hurry, walking to her metro stop with her bag slung over her shoulder and hadn’t really looked too closely at the screen, more just listening through her headphones. When she finally glanced at him she stopped in her tracks abruptly, nearly bumping into someone. “Oh my god, look at you!” 

He raised his eyebrows, running his hand through his hair nervously. He had let the hairdresser do whatever she wanted and she had gone for a shaggier cut that made his hair curl a little at the ends, a little trendier than he expected. “Is it that bad?” 

“No! No, no, not at all - did you ask for that cut? That’s not your normal.” 

He shrugged, still a little wary of her reaction. “No, I just let her do something new. It’s okay, right?” 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” she cursed, trying to be quiet as people moved around her in the busy street. 

He seemed to brighten almost immediately, his chest puffing up and cheeks turning a little pink. “Yeah? You think so?” 

“Absolutely.” Sophie glanced around, bringing the mic on her earbuds a little closer to her mouth as she spoke. “I cannot describe what I want to do to you right now, because I think I might get cited for public indecency, but holy hell. You look great, baby.” 

He beamed, but shook his head. “You’re just saying that because we haven’t seen each other in more than two months and you’re horny.” 

“I’m not! I’m not, I swear.” She laughed. “Look, I gotta go or I’ll be late to work, but we can talk later, okay? You look hot, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

That conversation alone had boosted his ego to the moon. He’d gotten off work early - thank you, summer Fridays - and immediately convinced James and Colin into day drinking. They had just moved into their senior house a week ago and Rafe felt miles better not being under the pressure of living with Colin’s parents, as hospitable as they were. 

Once the three of them were sufficiently drunk by five, they ordered multiple pizzas and indulged enough so they were somewhat sober again. Rafe had the brilliant idea of leaving Sophie voicemails every time they made the move to a new spot, keeping her updated. “Sophie! Sophie, baby, hello. We’re walkin’ to the Varsity Club now, then we’re gon’ get drunk again.” 

“I think you’re still drunk.” Colin pointed out, reaching for Rafe’s phone. “Hi Sophie!” 

“James, say hi.” Rafe ordered, holding the speaker toward him. James nodded and waved and Rafe was satisfied, despite the fact it was just a voicemail. “He says hello. Anyways, just giving you the update. I don’t think my typing fingers are all here ready to go, so m’ just gonna call you. Love you!”

That continued through the night as the boys got more drunk and got more indecipherable, with some yelling into the phone (“Sophie! James is hitting on a girl!”) and some accidental calls where the only audio was the muffled music in the background. Once they finally stumbled out of the bars at closing time, all on their way to a miserable hangover when they woke up later that day, Rafe dug out his phone again to call Sophie. 

She typically kept her phone’s ringer on, just in case he needed her, but when she was woken up for the fifth time in the middle of the night, she had to silence it. However, she’d also seen how at least one of the boys got hurt every time all three of them got drunk, so she could hardly sleep well anyways. She groaned when her phone lit up again with yet another voicemail from Rafe, this time of him singing Just The Two of Us horribly off-key. 

“Jesus Christ, Rafe, that’s like your tenth voicemail.” James shook his head, amused, trying to grab the phone away from him. He made a noise of protest, standing on his toes and holding the phone out of James’ reach. “No! Gotta keep Sophie updated, I promised I’d check in.” 

“Good thing she loves you, because even this would be too much for me.” Colin jested, throwing his arm around Rafe’s shoulders to keep him supported as they walked out the bar. “No, she’s in love with me. There’s a difference.” He corrected with a scowl. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Colin argued. 

“Does too matter. In love is like...” Rafe trailed off, thinking, then grinned. “It’s like when it’s finally spring again and you get to sit in that first warm patch of sun.” 

James rolled his eyes. “Okay, dummy. You’re a fuckin’ sap.” 

“M’ not. Not at all.” Rafe argued, fumbling with his phone. Colin plucked it out of his hand, raising his eyebrows. “What the fuck are you trying to do, dude?”

“Gotta check in.” Rafe insisted, grabbing it back and finally finding the FaceTime app and jabbing it with his thumb. Sophie picked up after a few rings, squinting with messy hair and reached to flick on a lamp. “What.”

“Baby!” He exclaimed, grinning. “Angel, look, I’m with my friends, you know them.” He turned the phone to show Colin and James and they waved, Colin rolling his eyes.

“Okay. Do you know what time it is here?” She yawned, pulling the blankets tighter around herself.

“No, how many times is it?”

She raised her eyebrows at his slurred speech and the unfocused look in his eyes. “Holy hell, you’re wasted, aren’t you?”

“No no no.” Rafe shook his head quickly. “No drinkings tonight. Nothing.”

“Not good to lie to your girlfriend, Rafe.” James teased and Sophie scowled. “He’s right. No lying.”

“Okay, fine. I had...um...two drinks. That’s all.”

“No you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t.” He agreed, nodding. “It was seven. Eight. Nine.”

“Alright. Are you safe? M’ kind of tired, baby.”

Both the boys grinned to each other, making a mental note to give him shit for the pet name later. Rafe ignored them, not looking away from the screen once. “My liver might not be safe.”

She snorted, nodding. “Okay. Can I go back to sleep?”

“No. If you’re already up then we can talk.” He insisted and she groaned, dropping her face into her pillow. “Rafe, no. I’m hanging up, I went to bed at three.”

“You’re not hanging up on me. You need to get more sleep though, your schedule’s out of whack. Hey, remember when we used to fight?”

She lifted her head slowly, annoyed. “Yes.”

“Are we fighting right now?”

“Will you let me hang up?”

“No.”

“Then yes. We’re fighting.” She rolled her eyes as his face dropped and he put on a big frown. “No! I don’t like fighting Sophie and Rafe. You know what, though?”

“What?”

“We missed out on a hate fuck.”

“Rafe!” She hissed immediately, turning bright red. “James and Colin are right there.”

“S’okay, they know I liked you for evers.”

“They don’t need to know about our sex life -”

“We know way too much about your sex life.” James interrupted, swatting Rafe upside the head just because he could. “So it’s kind of useless to be embarrassed about it now.”

“Oh my god.” She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. “Rafe, keep your mouth shut.”

He was completely unbothered and sent her a dopey grin. “Okay. Hey, when we get married, are you gonna let me buy the ring?”

Suddenly she was wide awake and she rubbed her eyes, unsure if she heard him correctly. “Hold up, you said when?”

“Yes, when. I don’t want to have to stick to your budget, you deserve the biggest damn diamond ever.”

Colin and James exchanged a glance as they walked up ahead of Rafe, a little wary of the conversation he was setting himself up for but too drunk themselves to care.

“Um. Who said we’re getting married?”

He frowned, sighing heavily like the topic was exhausting. “We are. You know it, I know it.”

Sophie hummed in response, unsure of how to answer that. “Okay then. That’s, um. Nice of you to say.”

“You have to promise me one thing.” 

She took a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m not sure I want to be promising anything to you right now -” 

“I want you to wear a garter so I can take it off with my teeth on our wedding night.” He insisted, looking way too serious as he told her. “We’re going to get married, or you wouldn’t have moved your ring.” 

She blushed and hoped he couldn’t tell from the dim glow of the lamp, ignoring his request. “I moved it because it fits better on my ring finger.” 

“I’m sure you did.” He nodded, placated, and she was grateful he didn’t press it further. “I wish you were here, it’s more fun getting drunk with you.”

“Hey!” James spun on his heel and Colin had to grab at him to keep him upright. “We’re plenty fun!”

“Are you gonna make out with me then cuddle? I don’t think so.” Rafe shot back, grinning when Sophie laughed.

“Rafe got hit on tonight.” Colin informed her, breaking into a round of giggles with James as Rafe sent them a glare. 

“You got hit on? Was she pretty?” Sophie raised her eyebrows, trying to hide a small smile. 

“Um…” Rafe trailed off, trying to form a complete thought. “She was nice.” 

“Yeah? Just nice?” 

He nodded decidedly. “Just nice.” 

“Practically flashed you.” James argued. “That’s more than just nice.” 

The girl had leaned over the bar to say hi to Rafe, giving him a view down her shirt - he had immediately blushed red and shoved Colin forward, telling her Colin was single but Rafe was most definitely not. 

“Bold.” Sophie commented, yawning. “Good for her.” 

Rafe narrowed his eyes a little. “You’re not mad?” 

“Did you flirt back?” 

“No! Of course not!” He exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously. 

She shrugged. “That’s what I thought. I’m not mad, I have no reason to be. Can I go back to sleep now, please?” 

“Pay attention, Rafe.” Colin called out, glancing behind him to see Rafe nearly walking into a streetlight pole as he kept his eyes trained on the screen. 

“No. You get to hang out with me.” He decided and she grumbled, but rolled onto her side and set the phone up hands-free so she could at least watch him get home safely. 

“Hey, Sophie!” James butted his head against Rafe’s to get in view of the screen, making him yelp. 

“Hi James.” 

“Remember you gotta come home soon. If you don’t, Rafe’s gonna be sad and I can’t have my buddy being sad.” He told her seriously, slinging his arm around Rafe’s shoulders. 

She laughed, nodding. “I’ll come home, don’t worry.” She grinned. “I would miss you and Colin too much.” 

“Hey!” Rafe exclaimed, indignant. “What about me?” 

“What about you?” 

He was about to open his mouth and make his case when he tripped on the uneven sidewalk and his phone clattered to the ground. James cracked up, picking up the phone and flipping the camera to show Rafe in someone’s front yard, lying next to a crumpled metal sign. “Get up, dumbass.” 

“Wait, no, hold on, is he bleeding?” Sophie frowned, suddenly more attentive. 

“Noooo. M’ fine.” Rafe insisted, clapping his hand over a slice down his arm. 

“Show me your arm, Rafe.” She commanded and he scowled but obliged, showing her a small but deep cut on his forearm and the blood trailing out of it. She nearly retched but squeezed her eyes shut instead for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Where’s Colin? Is he sober?” 

“Here!” Colin had gotten a solid block ahead of them, wandering, then jogged back once he realized his friends had stopped. “Damn, dude.” He mumbled, just standing there and watching Rafe bleed. 

“Jesus Christ.” Sophie muttered. “Okay. Can one of you get an Uber to the hospital? Please?” 

James handed the phone to Colin and took off his shirt, tapping it ultra-gently against Rafe’s cut, effectively doing nothing. “Mine’s dead.” 

“I didn’t bring my phone.” Colin added, then squinted as he finally got a good look at her. “You look tired, you should sleep more.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to lose her composure. “Where are you guys?” 

“Dunno.” Colin turned in a circle, nearly tripping over his feet. “Oh! We’re by the stadium.” 

“Alright. I’m going to hang up and call my friends to come get you, do you promise to stay there?” 

“Sophie?” Rafe asked, his voice a little weak. 

“Yeah, Rafe?” 

“If I bleed out and die, I need you to know that I love you and I miss having sex with you.” 

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s sweet. You’ll be fine. Stay there, okay? I need a promise from all of you.” 

The boys all mumbled a chorus of “I promise,” and she hung up, satisfied, then immediately called Allie and Julia to go pick them up. Luckily they were both sober and corralled the boys into Allie’s car, taking the phone from Rafe to keep Sophie updated. Once they made the short drive to the emergency room, Julia opened the door to help Rafe out, making Allie’s car light turn on. He groaned and threw his uninjured arm over his eyes, squinting. “I can’t go to the light. I gotta make it for my girl.” 

“That’s not - that’s the car light, Cameron.” Julia told him, tugging to get him out. He stayed limp like a ragdoll, shaking his head. “Tell Sophie I love her.” 

“You’re not dying. Get out of the car.” Sophie commanded from the FaceTime call. Rafe snapped his head up toward the sound. “I hear her.” 

“What on earth did you drink?” Allie asked incredulously, taking the phone from Julia. “Look, can we just text you when we’re out? Airhead here is gonna be too distracted.” 

Sophie laughed, running her hand over her face. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you for putting up with him.” 

Julia grumbled, finally tugging Rafe out of the car with James’ assistance. “He owes us a bottle of some good wine after this.” 

Two hours later, Rafe was fresh out of the hospital with a tetanus shot and three stitches, and a promise to detail Allie’s car in order to get the blood off of her leather seats (which she had just easily cleaned with a Clorox wipe). He was still a little drunk, but not nearly at the same level when the girls texted her a picture of him with a dopey grin and two fingers up on one hand, then one finger on the other. 

Allie: your boyfriend is a nightmare drunk

Sophie: unfortunately

what are the fingers supposed to mean

Julia: he said it stands for two and a half weeks until he sees you 

Sophie: aw. you two are the best, seriously 

Allie: a boyfriend of yours is a boyfriend of ours

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