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talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain.

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder.

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment.

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car.

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.”

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later.

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald.

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.”

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later.

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks.

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off.

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.”

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve.

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING.

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head.

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her.

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals.

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom.

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife.

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process.

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop.

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache.

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink.

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers.

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest.

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room.

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward.

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket.

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages.

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side.

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door.

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.”

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going.

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him.

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear.

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat.

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes.

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down.

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.”

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching.

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #husband!harry #doctor!harry #surgeon!harry

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tyb1 · 4 years

Text

Daddy Issues

Words: 1445

Character: Seth Clearwater

Request: Hi! Can I request were the reader is Sams younger sister and their dad comes back in town. The reader gets creeped by him and Sam or Seth fights him. P.S can we have a bad boy Seth!

*seth is a tad aggressive*

~Sorry it took so long :)~

BTW thanks for requesting!

I snuggled deeper into Seth’s chest when I felt the breeze of the fall air enter my room. I always adored it when Seth came over for the fall and winter times. We’d always lay in my bed watching movies or playing board games (which he sucks at).

“(Y/N) if you snuggle any deeper you will cave in my chest.”

I giggled, smacking his chest lightly, “I’m really cold and hungry.”

He wrapped his arms around me pulling me on top of him. His lips were placed on my enormous forehead that he glorified. “You’re always hungry (Y/N).”

Sam and Emily were downstairs getting lunch prepared. The pack was coming over just to hang out and eat some lunch. It has become a mini tradition that everyone comes over and plays games or watches movies then at night we’d sit around the campfire. Even Bella has come over with Jake which really surprises me every time I see her.

“(Y/N) come open the door my hands are full,” Sam shouted from the bottom of the staircase. I groaned at the sound of Sam’s voice. I didn’t want to leave my personal heater and plus the movie was entering its good part.

“I don’t hear any footsteps (Y/N), our guests are getting cold out there,” Emily shouted.

“I’m coming, Emily! It’s literally only the guys outside!” I lifted my body from Seths, the cold air nearly knocked me back down to him. One side of my body was warm and tingly from him while the other was cold.

I walked downstairs, the smell of grilled food engulfed my nostrils. I could push Sam off of the grill right now and rob him of all of the ribs. It wouldn’t be the first time I tried that though…….would not be the last either.

“The food smells good Sam!” I yelled out to him as I reached out for the door. I heard him thanking me in the distance. I opened the door revealing everyone. Leah was the first to enter, she handed me a bowl of her Sue’s famous potato salad.

Leah bent down to my ear whispering, “Don’t let the boys see this, or else it’ll be gone in an instant.”

I nodded my head hiding the potato salad behind my back as the boys began to enter.

“What’s up Scar!” Jared gave me a harsh slap on the arm. Sometimes he forgets that I can’t handle his strength.

“Ouch Jared and my name isn’t Scar.” I grabbed my arm, it began to pulsate from the impact. The guys moved past me rubbing my head as they entered. Paul went as far as to grab my head nearly squeezing my eyeballs out.

I pushed the door closed when I heard someone shout from behind the door. I looked outside to see Bella on the porch, she stood there awkwardly trying to utter out some words.

“Hey (Y/N), there’s a man near the entrance who said he's looking for you.” She pointed her finger in the direction of the main road. I glanced down the dirt road looking at the figure as they leaned against their truck.

“Okay, thanks.” I moved to the side so she could walk into the house. I laughed, I walked because I knew that they were trying to play a joke on me. Jake didn’t come with Bella so I knew he was the figure at the truck trying to scare me.

“Jake you can’t scare me.” Then I realized the man was too buff to be Jacob. The closer I got the more freaked out I was. It wasn’t Jake at the car nor was it someone that I had recognized.

“Excuse me, someone mentioned that you were looking for me?” I stopped in the middle of the dirt road. I kept my distance from the man so he couldn’t try anything. He turned to look at me, his eyes stuck out as if he was surprised to see me. The cigarette that he held in his hand fell to the ground fully ignited.

“Wow, you’ve really grown.” The man took a step towards me while I took a step back. He really gave me an eerie feeling. The air shifted around us, I’ve never felt more uncomfortable in my life. There was a creepy smile that was cast upon his face that made me want to gag.

“If you’re not here for anything you can leave.” I turned to leave, he was such a creep. He smelt like cigarettes and beer. He really didn’t show any emotions, he was only shocked for a second then that same horrific smile appeared again.

“(Y/N) Uley, that’s your name.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Why wouldn’t a dad know his daughter’s name. I’m Josuha Uley, your father (Y/N).”

He stuck out his hand for me to shake but I just stared at it. The words kept echoing throughout my head. I felt so nauseous, I ran to throw up in the nearby bushes. Sam told me ever since I was little how dad abandons us. He left Sam when he was little then came back to conceive me then left before I was even born. He missed 18 years of my life, the only father figure I had in my life was Sam. He was nothing to me, I owed this man no respect at all.

I felt his foreign hand on my back rubbing it. He asked me something but the only thing I could hear was my racing heart. I shoved him away then slapped him in his face “Get away from me. Don’t you ever touch me again?”

“I just want a relationship with you (Y/N).” Joshua tried to hug me walking closer to me with open hands. I could see tears on the brim of his eyes. I knew they were fake, mom always told me that sweet-talked people to get his way.

“Get away from me you creep.” The cold air that was surrounding us didn’t make it any better. The tears on my face felt so cold. I just wanted him to leave me alone and let me live a life without him.

“(Y/N)”

“Didn’t she say leave?”

I turned to see Seth standing behind me. He placed his arm around my waist pulling me behind him. I’ve never seen Seth stand so tall in my life before. He stood his ground in front of my dad.

“Who are you?” He laughed mocking Seth, I could feel how tense his body was. Not out of fear but out of anger.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. She asked you to leave so leave.”

Joshua laughed again, he walked to us staring down at Seth. “You have no authority over me. You’re just a little pup. You couldn’t protect (Y/N) if you wanted to. You’re a sorry excuse of a boyfriend. Let me guess he imprinted on you (Y/N).” He scoffed in front of our faces.

“This is puppy love.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. Neither of us gives a shit. Let’s go (Y/N).”

Seth tugged me back towards the house. We left Joshua where he stood until he grabbed me from behind. I screamed as I felt him drag me towards the car. “We’re not done with this conversation (Y/N).”

Seth forcefully ripped me out of his grip. He grabbed Joshua’s face pushing it into the car window. “I will kill you if you ever touch her again.”

Seth flung his bleeding body into the dirt. Joshua took this opportunity to shift. He growled at Seth then charged. “Seth move!!”

I watched in horror as Joshua charged Seth. Seth jumped slightly to the left and Joshua was met with another big black wolf. Sam charged at him ripping at his fur with his teeth. I was shocked to see Sam appear that fast. I always heard stories from others about how dad names or presents would make Sam rage.

He pushed him further into the woods father away from us. Paul, Jared, Jake, Embry, and Quil were also in their wolf form. They ran behind Sam howling into the air.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine but I got to go. Leave the window open like you always do. I’ll be right back.”

He grabbed my face kissing me. I wrapped my arms around his neck to help me deepen the kiss more. He placed his forehead on mine winking at me before running off in the woods shifting.

“That wink was so cringy Seth Clearwater!!”

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wheniitbreaks · 3 years

Text

What I think the crows favorite Taylor Swift album would be:

Nina: 1989

LISTEN. This album is all about being the baddest of the bitches in a new town. Nina is confident, outgoing, fun, but at the same time she has that romantic side deep deep down her heart, just like 1989. This album is about not caring about what others think of you and your love life, living life at its fullest. Her top 3 would be Style, I Know Places and Clean (imagine her listening to Clean after burying Matthias’ body🥲) (honourable mention, she would think of Matthias while listening to Lover).

Wylan: Evermore

Pain. I mean it’s obvious isn’t it? First of all, it’s an indie album, so he would be able to follow the songs along with his flute (😭) also I think it would mean a lot to him bc these songs really feel like fairy tails and since he can’t read he would get to listen to them. His favorite songs would be Champagne Problems (he would be SOBBING), Gold Rush and Marjorie (this song is the main reason why I chose Evermore and not Folklore, I mean he would think of his mum while listening to it and just.. it’s too painful goodbye).

Matthias: Lover

THIS IS MY FAVORITE. REPEAT AFTER ME: MATTHIAS HELVAR IS A LOVER STAN. Do I really need to explain myself? He acts so tough but we all know he’s a softie. He just LOVES Lover (the song) so much he would call it a classic. Literally he would think of Nina all the time it’s just perfect for him. His top 3 would be Lover, Cornelia Street and False God.

Jesper: Speak Now

This was difficult. I think this is the most accurate thing I could come up with. I think Jesper is really theatrical and dramatic just as speak now is. Also this album is all about standing up for yourself and for your friends which he always does. He LOVES Enchanted bc it reminds him of Wylan❤️. His top 3 would be Dear John (Idk what you say this is his fav), Enchanted and Long Live (bc it reminds him of his friends<3).

Inej: Red

OKAY NOW. Don’t tell me she wouldn’t listen to treacherous and think about kaz ALL THE TIME??? literally that song must become kanej anthem. Anyways, she’s def an All too Well stan I don’t make the rules. Also I think this album perfectly resonates with both kaz and inej and their relationship. Its all about difficult but intense feelings which is exactly what’s going on between those two. Inej is more sentimental so I think she would like it better than kaz would. Her top 3 is Begin Again (reminds her of when Kaz saved her from the Menagerie), Starlight (would dance to this song with Nina) and State of Grace (acoustic version). (honourable mention she would think of kaz while listening to Untouchable ).

Kaz: Reputation

We all know it’s true stfu. This whole concept is P E R F E C T for kaz. I mean don’t tell me he didn’t went full Rep era after coming out of the water. All he cares about is getting his revenge and Inej. He would relate to a lot of the songs on the album: Look What You Made Me Do, This Is Why We Cant Have Nice Things, Don’t Blame Me (I mean love surely made him crazy when he ripped that mans eyeball out just because he stabbed inej), Delicate, I COULD GO ON AND ON. Also let’s not forget how love is like one of the main topics in this album. It’s about finding love during a tough time in your life and being scared about it bc you don’t know where it’s going to lead you. His top 3 would be Delicate, I Did Something Bad and New Year’s Day (he would think of inej).

#taylor swift #six of crows #nina zenik #wylan van eck #matthiashelvar #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #kanej #helnik #wesper

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1800sunaarinn · 4 years

Text

ADULT TRIO + TORTURER READER

anon asks

hiii! and thanks for enjoying my writing, idk idk i always feel like i can’t write for shit lmaoo. not even going cap, i legit got chills when i read this ask, this definitely right up my alley!! pls enjoy, anon!! :)

tw. torture, manipulation, uwu.

♰ Chrollo Luclifer

pause.

you were dangerously cute, so cute that you bordered on looking naïve. seriously, chrollo could spend hours eloquently describing how cute you were, how your actions made you even cuter, and how your words made you cuter than cuter. mans could even spend hours explaining how naïve you were. and, he could spend even more hours explaining just as eloquently that you were a manipulator.

both in nen abilities and mentality. god, you were a literal demon disguised as an angel, or something. you look cute, spoke cute, acted cute, but those hands were not cute. those soft hands have ended lives, have taken out eyeballs, yank teeth, broke bones, ripped out things that should definitely stay inside the body.

it was scary, but to chrollo, it was sexy. besides the point.

the first time he encountered your torture session was three years ago, when you had joined the phantom troupe as a pseudo member. you were an incredible informant, better than their last one.

when chrollo had left the base with his usual entourage of machi and pakunoda, it had been quiet as mouse. upon returning, he could hear the horrified and pained screams a few kilometers away.

chrollo’s first thought. feitan was torturing someone.

chrollo’s first sight. their sweet little informant torturing someone.

wait, stop the mfing music. [F/N] torturing someone?!?!

his initial reaction was to be frozen in shock, but doesn’t appear as if he was actually in shock by the events unfolding before him.

once he processed the entire thing, he could only stare for a few seconds in morbid fascination before it donned on him that you, [F/N], was actually torturing someone.

but what officially ko’ed him, was the expression on your face.

you looked completely frazzled, hair frizzy, clothes ruffled and spotted with blood. your eyes were wide like plates, pupils so tiny. the skin underneath your eyes dark and bruised. but it was the excitedly wide and sadistic smile on your face that caused him to actually sweatdrop.

chrollo was a refined young man, but seeing you look nothing like the cutesy naïve girl you had was a whole lot of shocking.

when the man had gave one last scream of pure, unadulterated fear, you had ended his life with a slow tug of his heart, pulling it free from his chest. it took a few seconds for him to truly die, you swinging his heart in front of his face with haunting giggles.

you had turned then, meeting chrollo’s eyes, appearance changing in a blink of an eye. you were back to looking cutesy, clothes clean and hair groomed. if you still weren’t holding the man’s heart, chrollo wouldn’t have known that you had just tortured someone to death.

“oh, dancho!” you had smile a true heart tugging smile, eyes forming little smiles as well. “i didn’t see you there~”

“yeah...” chrollo had trailed off, looking behind you and toward the dead man. “what’d he do?”

“hm, i want some cake. do you want cake, dancho?” you asked, before shrugging. “i’ll tell you everything over cake, pinkie promise!”

chrollo could only follow after you.

and, even now, three years later with you as his girlfriend. watching you torture someone will always cause him to sweatdrop.

he lowkey feared you.

🃏 Hisoka Morow

wait.

hisoka in a relationship with a girl who looks way too innocent to even know what —inter 🤢 interco— 🤢 intercourse🤮 is!! now that’s a sight to see.

first off, no one’s going to believe that hisoka, resident bitch clown, could bag someone like you. hell, you can’t even believe it because he is a bitch. b i c t h!

but anyways. hisoka thinks torturing is too slow, too drawn out for him, he likes fast pace things, like fights, and sex. but if it really came down to it, hisoka wouldn’t be opposed to some quality time torturing.

it was supposed to be a normal day, you know? hisoka actually showing up to the area to fight, and to secure his place in the two hundreds. you know, the usual. popping up at your house unexpectedly, and uninvited, was a normal thing. he even had a key.

but what wasn’t normal was hearing screams coming from your house, it was faint and you had to be up on your front door to hear it, but hisoka had good ass hearing.

the screams only grew louder as he entered the house, stalked around a bit to found it and then locating you and your victim in the basement.

you had a basement???! hisoka was bamboozeled.

but, no. what had him shivering his timbers, was you. his cutie pie girlfriend, looking not so cutie pootie anymore with frazzled hair and dark bruised eyes. covered in blood and wearing a bloodthirsty smile that put his to shame.

no, wait,

hold up

let him move his bangs real quick

...

nah, he saw that right

his initial reaction being “hah? why didn’t you invite me, [F/N]-chan, so rude~”

actually processed what the hell just happened. instant turn on. pervert face on, moaning immediately!

not only did you get a fright for your life, but the poor man you were torturing looked scared, disgusted and scared even more.

“oh, hisoka! hi!” you gave the man the biggest eye smile with a cutesy flustered expression, actually hearts and sparkles exploding around you. you didn’t even give the poor man a last thought before you sliced his neck so deep, his head nearly fell from his shoulders.

“what are you doing~” he had practically moaned.

“well, i’ll tell you over cake!” you all but skipped over to him, snatching his hand and bounding up the stairs for cake!

he’s totally using torture as a form of spicing up y’all’s sex lite. damn, perv.

📍Illumi Zoldyck

as the wife of a zoldyck, your ass better know how to torture. literally, it’s a requirement.

but, illumi had thought he would have to teach you how to torture. and how to kill, and how to manipulate, and how to do everything it require to become the best assassin wife.

you see, he was definitely fooled by your cutesy, naïveté act. your innocent smiles, glossy words, and dreamy stares. yes, that was it. you, a fine manipulator yourself, had fooled an even better manipulator.

poor dude was so confused when it came time to teach you how to torture.

like sorry dude, but you’ll be showing illumi a few pointers on which nerve is the quickest to receive a knee jerk scream.

his initial reaction was so stale. all he said was oh and looked on with the same dead fish eyed look.

processing... processing... completed.

“oh, oh! this is good, i don’t have to waste time teaching you.” the man sounded cheery, but he looked so dead.

you strived to have that sorta of resting bitch face.

you see, illumi can also make the weirdest, bizarre, downright ugly faces when it comes to actually releasing his bloodlust. so, seeing your features convert into something out of a horror movie only left him feeling a bit tingly.

why was he feeling tingly? what does it mean?,?!,

he lowkey enjoyed the way you lost yourself when torturing someone. you looked absolutely horrifying, and your sweet tone only added to the affect and your nen abilities working on your victim’s mind only strived to make you even more terrifying.

proud

this man was actually feeling proud of his wife

gah dayum 👨🏾‍🦳!! he found the right one, ladies it’s a wrap.

he definitely demanded little assassin babies.

like,,,,

“who taught you how to torture?” he had asked.

“a friend from my home city, he was so aggressive for such a tiny man.” you had answered absentmindedly, before bursting into horrible giggles as the man gave his last scream.

O.O —.— O.O, that type of beat.

“can we get cake?” you had turned to look at him then, smiling cutely.

“after we have intercourse. i want children, now.”

^.^ -> o.0 “hah???”

📍. 11/20/15

note — i hope you liked it. i absolutely hate the word intercouse, oh my god 😭

#illumi 📍#hisoka 🃏#chrollo ♰#hxh #adult trio #hxh scenarios #hxh headcanons #hxh imagines #hxh illumi #hxh hisoka #hxh chrollo #illumi imagine #hisoka imagine #chrollo imagine #tw.torture 🍴#tw.manipulation 😈

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oopsiedoopsie23 · 4 years

Text

Overdose part 3 | Machine Gun Kelly x reader

A/N: I’M SORRY! I know, I know I literally said that this would come out a couple weeks ago but school and life in general has been up my ass and I’ve had literally no inspiration whatsoever. But on a lighter note, the support and love I’ve been receiving for this series has been amazing! This has been the first time that I’ve implemented songs into my fics and I’ll definitely be looking forward to creating more song fics in the future since y’all love them so much. Anyways, I honestly think this is pure shit but I didn’t think it was fair for y’all to wait any longer for this. Hope your eyeballs enjoy :)

Prompt: The aftermath of the reader’s overdose

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of death, mentions of overdose

part 1 | part 2

And if I must go and die at 27 Then at least I know I died a legend Now, will you roll and ride like we're together? And keep the vibe alive inside forever And feel me forever

You opened your eyes slowly, the bright lights and your heavy eyelids making the task of opening your eyes nearly impossible.

You let your eyes flutter closed once again and resided to weakly squeezing whoever’s hand was loosely gripped around your own.

“Oh my god...Y/N?”

“Nurse! We need a nurse! She’s waking up!”

You heard scuffling around you, taking that as a sign to try to open your eyes once again, this time succeeding.

You squint under the bright lights, looking around the room in confusion at the faces of your parents smiling widely.

“W-where’s Colson?”

They say I need to slow down, but I don't know how

You should have known something was wrong when your mom’s smile slightly faltered and your dad’s jaw clenched, but your mind was hazy and all you could think about was your ex-boyfriend.

“Don’t worry about it honey, he won’t be coming near you ever again.”

You gave a shocked look at your dad, tears immediately pooling in your eyes.

“What do you mean? W-what are you saying? Is this some kind of joke?”

Your heart was pounding and you could faintly hear the beeping of your heart monitor begin to quicken.

“Honey look at me, calm down please.”

“No, don’t tell me to calm down! Where is he! Mom, please! I-I need to talk to him, I need to see him!”

Nurses were now scrambling into the room, trying to say soothing words and reassurances to you but you couldn’t hear them.

Yeah Real feelings from past dealings When people counted me out 'til I grew up to count millions, uh Like I guess it's good to be different, huh? I'm a star so the sky isn't the limit, huh?

“He’s no good for you Y/N. He’s not worth it.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“No! You don’t know what happened! I did this! Please, just let me see him, please I need to talk to him!”

You were screaming and thrashing, dignity flying out the window as you pleaded for Colson.

I'm living like it's my last day Smoke as if there's not already 27 roaches in the ashtray Smile as if no one hated at all As if anyone understood anytime I evolved Tell me what do you do when your dreams come true? Buy a Bentley and look just like you? How am I supposed to write a song when I'm famous And all the pain is created?

“Can’t you see what he’s done to you, Y/N?!” Your dad’s voice was booming and he was slightly held back by your mom, “He did this! He’s turned you into a drug-fuelled monster!”

“No!”

You screamed as nurses began to hold you down to try to stop you from thrashing around.

“You overdosed, Y/N! You overdosed because of him!”

And just as your dad spat those last words at you, the nurses stabbed a needle into your arm, quickly pressing down on the plunger.

I need to overdose on inspiration 27

You felt your vision become spotty and your eyelids becoming heavy once again.

“Please...I-I need to see him.”

Why don't you just go home? Well, I can't right now, I'm a rolling stone

Colson ran into the hospital, skidding to a stop at the nurses station to ask for directions before being directed to a small room at the end of the hall.

But just as he reached out for your door handle, he hears a booming voice interrupt the quiet of the hospital,

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Colson turned around and mentally groaned at the sight of your dad.

It wasn’t like Colson hated your dad, but your dad definitely hated Colson. He always made it clear that he believed that dating Colson would only lead you back to the drug-heavy life that you had once endured.

But was he wrong?

“I can’t go into that room to see my daughter but this fool can?”

The older man stepped closer towards Colson, shrugging your mom’s hand off of his shoulder,

“You’re the reason why she overdosed! You’re the reason why she’s in that bed! You’re the reason why she almost died!”

Colson kept his head down, knowing that if he looked into the screaming man’s eyes he would either burst into tears, punch him in the face or both, and none of those options would do him any good.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here.”

“Y/D/N, calm down.”

Your mom gently nudged your dad away from Colson, letting the older man cool off, before turning to Colson,

“Go home Colson, now isn’t the right time to visit her.”

But before she could walk away Colson responded,

“With all due respect Ms. L/Y/N, I would like to stay...I don’t think that any time would be the right time.”

The older woman paused, signalling that she was listening to whatever Colson had to say,

“I know that I fucked up by letting her go...sh-she was the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t realize how much I loved her until I found her laying on the floor. I know that I’ve hurt her but please...please just let me see her.”

Silence filled the small hallway.

“I’ll keep him out of her room for as long as I can.”

And if I must go, and fly away And kiss my baby girl goodnight And if this really is goodbye Then let's set the city on fire Can you take me higher? Now, can you take me higher? Can you take me higher? Can you take me higher?

Colson sat with you, placing his larger hand over yours, watching your chest move up and down, the only thing reassuring him that you were still with him.

If I must go, die at 27 Then at least I know I died a legend Will you roll and ride like we're together? And keep the vibe alive forever Keep the vibe alive forever

“Colson?”

Colson’s head snapped up at the sound of your hoarse voice,

“Your awake! Y-your fucking awake!”

He immediately jumped up and wrapped his arms around yours, engulfing you in a nearly suffocating hug, but both of you have wide smiles on your face.

“Um Colson I just escaped death, I don’t really want to die, now.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

He gently loosened his hold on you, backing away, letting the two of you properly look at the other for the first time in months.

You attempt to break the awkward silence that had entered the room,

“You look like shit.”

Colson chuckled, “You don’t look much better.”

“Hey at least I have an excuse, what’s yours?”

You watch as his face pales and his smile falters.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Colson sighs and runs his hand through his hair,

“Colson, I’m sorry, I’m so stupid I shouldn’t have sai-”

“Are you using again?”

Your eyes widen as he suddenly interrupts you,

“I-I...no.”

“Y/N...look at me.”

He gently nudges your chin so that you were now looking at him in the eyes.

“I found a vial in your room with leftover cocaine in it.”

“I-I”

You were at a loss for words, your guilt eating up your dignity and pride.

“Look it’s okay, I know that it’s been a fucking hard couple of months but I need you to be honest and tell me how long you’ve been using for.”

You looked down, breaking the steady eye contact between the two of you, choosing to instead look at your fiddling hands,

“It was only one time...this was the first time that I had used since becoming sober.”

“Y/N...”

“It’s true, Colson! I’m fucking telling the truth!”

Your voice rises and you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I-I wasn’t handling our breakup well...but I was holding on.”

“Then what changed?”

Colson’s voice was soft, easily lowering the rising tension that you had brought into the room with your outburst.

“I...I heard the song...the song you wrote about me...about us and the breakup.”

Silence filled the room once again until Colson finally responded,

“Fucking shit!”

I let these words seep through my soul And speak through the song 'Cause if one day, I'm no longer here in the physical Then at least I give you my voice to listen to

You flinch but keep your head down, not wanting to show him the uncontrollable tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

But out of the corner of your eye you can see him, pacing around the room, muttering profanities under his breath and, looking like he was going to rip his hair out.

Finally he stops pacing and stands at the foot of your hospital bed,

“Y/N, please you have to believe me, I was drunk and angry and fucking pissed off at everyone and everything when I wrote that song, I didn’t even want to release it but management was up my ass about releasing new music and I had no choice and I didn’t really think of you and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

And at that moment you could see it.

You could see how desperate and scared he was.

But he wasn’t just scared because of your reaction to the song.

He was scared of losing you forever.

And he almost had.

What is a beautiful life without a beautiful death? What is a beautiful mind, how is our beauty defined? Is it for you to decide, is it my duty to die?

You open your arms letting him cautiously walk into them,

“When I overdosed...I called you for a reason.”

You watched as a small smile slowly spread across Colson’s face,

“Is it because I was the one who caused all of your pain and misery?”

You scoffed and playfully rolled your eyes,

“Well you did...but also because I love you Colson Baker...always have and, always will.”

No matter how I'm remembered, just let me be remembered Kells Yeah, forever young, though, haha Always be those crazy kids running wide-eyed down the boulevard, huh 27 Bloom

@nowhereiswhereibelong @dreamlesswonder86 @mayaslifeinabox @deanwinchesterswife121 @honeymelon22 @poorlittlesuperstar @trashbonesroyale @vladsgirlxx @k-a-t-h-r-y-n-sbin @1teen1dream @bolivianchickennugget @bakerkells @hotel-colson @wesleypiper @sataninsatin @lolychu

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk #mgk x reader #mgk imagine #colson baker #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #est #xx #imagine #fanfiction #oopsiedoopsie23

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Text

HOSTIS, Chapter XIX: Rosa, Rose

Previous Chapter (XVIII: Renuntiatio)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): drama, FLUFF fucking finally and light smut

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“you’ve been trying to get rid of me for 10 years... and look where that got us?”

the crack that you could’ve imagined splitting the sky into pieces was short-lived, but it stirred you in your sleep, nonetheless.

bright, white light flashes through your opening lids but your body takes too long to prepare itself for the loud, vehement clap.

it sounded like someone had just thrown a bomb into the clouds.

you cower in fear at the call of mother nature, hands flying up to your ears as you push your head further into the pillow. there was some hint of sunlight spilling into the room, but that was the least of your concerns when the sky was trying to kill you.

a gentle, but firm force on your hips nearly warrants a harsh whack behind you if your hands weren’t preoccupied with covering your ears.

“stop being such a wuss,” barely opened eyes stirred under his lids, a left arm circling your waist as he pulls you closer to his chest. warmth was radiating off him as if the blanket you were nearly fully covered by wasn’t already keeping you safe from the outside world. “nothing’s going to happen to you, not while you’re here, at least.”

“ew, gro--”

clap

mother nature literally screams at you to shut up, forcing you to ball up further into his skin. his hold around you tightens, and he pulls your right leg up over his hip, palm resting flat and soft on your thigh.

“as much as i love to see you scared shitless, it sucks to know that i don’t ever want to see you scared like this alone.”

the words run through your hair and you now notice your hands were balled up into fists against his chest, his light breathing brushing against the little strands that fell over your forehead like little curtains.

“so be like this only with me, and you won’t have to be scared anymore.”

the skies refuse to let up and zeus hurls another lightning bolt down to earth, yet the orchestral accompaniment doesn’t faze you that much anymore, not after what he said.

not when it’s completely reduced your hatred for him into nothing but ashes. ashes and dust that fly away in the gentle wind.

what were the ten years for, if both areses were going to tread on it like it wasn’t the most dangerous thing to do?

what did the ten years of fighting do, if zeus meant for the two gods of war to round a circle in the ring of fire, only to put down their swords and admit defeat?

not to the fear of death, not to the lack of fight left in them.

but to surrender to one another.

where there were once thorns and daggers and poison now bloomed pansies, flowers that grow in winter; in harsh environments.

have you seen pansies in winter?

white on purple draws a striking, degrading memory in the little crooks and crannies of your mind.

for ten years, you’ve avoided drinking poison, or going anywhere near it, in fact. in the process, becoming poison yourself. it would’ve been like two pythons in a death match to see who could bite the other first.

yet, all of that was now of no value to you.

sure, you’ve lost ten years trying to fight a losing war; the entire duration worried that you would lose to he who would triumph had you chosen to take a step back.

but the very fact that nobody lost wears through you like tires on asphalt.

the notion that both sides took turns destroying each other only to fall in love, becomes the very cure for the tumor in your heart.

why did it take so long for you to realise that you hurt when you couldn’t read him? when he stayed so far away from you, breath on your skin but never touching you. eyes always glued to you, yet never soulful enough for your stomach to churn.

the very sight of him being away from you made you physically unwell.

so this was it.

he has claimed you and he has given himself to you.

zeus has failed in his plan to make the two of you fight to your deaths, but he smiles with pride and glory when he decides that ares’ happiness was more important than spilling blood and ripping flesh off bones.

but that was zeus, and you are ares.

ares is brutal.

and you would’ve not hesitated to rip her flesh off HER bones if you weren’t in a white coat and a doctor’s ID card was hanging around your neck like a dog tag.

“no, you’re joking!”

choi minhee was bright, pretty, cream-colored, and had a disgustingly white set of teeth looking like headlights on a fucking truck.

you?

you were poison, daggers, the thorns on roses.

of all doctors to be assigned to her father, it just had to be hyunjae?

mrs kang was rather entertained with the conversation that was happening in the other corner of the ward, and she must’ve known your blood pressure was skyrocketing through the roof because she shoots you a look of slight mischief, almost a glance of knowing.

“i should’ve known it was you,” the airy sigh that exits her parted lips calls for your attention over the clipboard.

“mr choi, you look too good for your age, honestly. this little injury will heal pretty good on its own as long as you take care of yourself while you’re staying here.”

“aw, no. you’re too kind.”

“he’s right, daddy. you’ll take care of my dad, won’t you?”

a wince exhibits itself on your face despite your pen flying across the report, mrs kang’s current condition coming out in ink though you weren’t even consciously writing every alphabet down.

“get anymore jealous and you’re going to be the one who needs your blood pressure taken, doctor l/n.”

mrs kang had her eyes focused on you in the corner of her eye sockets. slight embarrassment lights your soul on fire, but not as much as the irritation that was making your insides itch and squirm with despise.

“you should come over for dinner some time soon, do you remember the stew that you liked?

“ah, the one that mrs choi makes? of course, how could i forget?”

stew?

STEW?

“when daddy gets discharged, you have to visit sometime. mummy would be so happy to see you again!”

“would she?”

“of course! my wife loved you!”

so her parents don’t know he cheated on her.

doesn’t matter.

i’m gonna fucking kill him anyway.

“you should’ve seen him last week, child.”

the clipboard gets slid back into the slot at the end of the bed, and your neck cranes to look at mrs kang sitting up in her bed.

“the boy was in a mess.”

“you look very well, hyunjae. it’s really been a long time.”

“had you seen him and heard what he told me, you’d be in a mess too.”

“nah, four years don’t do much.”

“doctor l/n, are you listening to me?”

“you took four years to look like this! doesn’t he look great, daddy?”

“you flatter me too much, minhee.”

the mere trill of someone else’s name rolling off his tongue pushes you over an edge, an edge too close for comfort.

mrs kang reads your furrowed brows with ease and watches with a knowing smirk on her lips as you grab your patient files off the little cabinet next to the ward bed.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning, mrs kang.”

she sees right through your painful, forced smile, and she breaks out into a small chuckle.

the light hanging above her bed brightens the whites in her eyes, in contrast to the darkening sky right outside the window where choi minhee’s father was warded due to a small, almost unnoticeable stroke.

it tickles you to see mrs kang happy, but the voices coming from behind you were holding your heart in its hands, every word aggravating its merciless grip around you.

you turn on your heels and head out of the ward, trying your best to block out the voices that sounded like demons inside your head.

how you wished you could whack your patient files across that smug, pretty face.

how dare she talk to him like he didn’t cheat on her? how dare he talk to her like that despite that whole dramatic confession last week? just how dare he--

someone’s shoulder runs into your arm and your patient files clutter to the floor.

“oh, i’m-- y/n!”

he bends down to pick up your patient files before you could even process who you ran into.

“eric!” the surprised tone made your voice so much higher, you were sure it would’ve caught hyunjae’s attention if the clatter of the files hitting the floor didn’t. “what are you doing in the wards wing?”

“running off to find the patient file archive office... doctor min wants me to help him finish one more thing before i’m done for the day.”

he hands you the patient files, and your hands brush across each other. he doesn’t look at you with an ounce of awkwardness or distaste, and frankly, you missed his smile. you missed how enthusiastic he was.

you were lucky you were still friends with him.

“are you alright? you don’t look too--” rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes travel from your face to movement behind you that you could see in your peripheral vision.

“i’ll be right back!” hyunjae gestures into the room while he reverses out, and his patient files brush across your back.

eric’s eyes light up like bulbs and it stuns you to see how easily eric gets through it. “hyung!”

“eric! my boy!” he pushes past you like you were a road block and wraps his arms around the intern. “how are you? i haven’t seen you in so long-- the research department hasn’t called for me since last week.”

“yeah, i know. i’ve only been seeing y/n around in the research department. you must have more patients to care for.”

your eyeballs roll so hard in your head, you force a polite smile for eric while your feet turn to leave this party. “i’m gonna go--”

“whoa, whoa, where are you going? it’s dinner time--”

“you can find your dinner elsewhere, maybe have some stew at it if you like,” eric takes note of the disgust and disdain in your face before you pry the intern away from hyunjae so you could hug him instead. “i missed you so much. we have to catch up some other time, okay?”

“no problem! just drop me a text.”

the grin he presents you feels like soda on a hot day, and you walk off without bothering to turn to look at hyunjae.

the orange and blue sky outside your office window greets you like a flag, navy blue clouds cutting the skies into half across the horizon.

“‘you should come over for dinner soon’,” items get swept into your briefcase instead of being placed in it.

“‘doesn’t he look great, daddy?’ who even calls their father ‘daddy’ at 23? fluttering her eyes like she had something in her fucking eyes... smiling so hard that her eyes were literally missing from her fucking fac--”

the office door clicks open, and you see hyunjae walking in through your door in the reflection of the window.

the sharp sound of the zipper shutting the briefcase rings in the air like tearing a sheet of paper, and you shut off the main switch under your desk.

“y/n.”

a pen rolls off when you pick up your briefcase, coercing a frustrated groan out through your throat as you bend down to retrieve it.

“y/n, we said we’d have dinner together.”

“oh!” the sarcasm was dripping off your tongue, so when you turn to see his face, you know that he sees right through you.

but when has he not been able to?

“me? no! you have to get some of that mrs-choi-stew, don’t you?” steps were trying to take you away from him in the direction of the door, but you’ve barely made it past him when he grabs your upper arm without budging from his stance.

“kitten, wait.”

“don’t call me that and don’t tou--”

“kitten, are you jealous?”

“no, i’m not,” effort to writhe out of his hold becomes useless, but you struggle anyway. “let me go. i want to go home and--”

“so i’ll send you home and we can order takeaway.”

“no, i don’t need you to send me home--”

“i didn’t ask kitten. i’m telling you i will send you home and we will have takeaway.”

“ugh,” you vehemently yank your arm out of his grasp and glare at him. “do whatever you want, mr ‘my-wife-loved-you’.”

by the time you were in the car, hyunjae was very obviously finding some kind of fun and enjoyment watching you attempt to control how much your blood was boiling. he doesn’t say anything the whole ride to your place, and you try to convince yourself that you were only letting him drive you back because you didn’t want to pay for a cab or public transport.

but you remember that you love him now, and every little thing he does will end up crawling across the surface of your bones like ants on skin.

once in your apartment, you throw your keys into the basket atop the shoe rack by the door. your heels get kicked off and you dump your briefcase noisily on the kitchen island.

the front door clicks shut and you pull yourself onto the high-chair, occupying yourself with your phone and a menu you would rather have fill your guts than the thought of hyunjae flirting with his ex-girlfriend.

“kitten,” his feet shuffles against the floor and he places his briefcase in the hallway where it led to the front door.

oooh, sushi.

“kitten.”

maybe korean?

“kitten, look at me.”

“do you want sushi or--”

the device slides out of your hands and drops to the table with a soft thud, your high-chair being whirled around so suddenly before stopping abruptly.

the edge of the kitchen island etches itself against your spine as you lean back, one arm leaning on the surface while his fingers grip onto the edge of your seat.

“look me in the eye and tell me what’s wrong, kitten.”

is this man for real?

“for a smart man, you are really dense.”

“who said i didn’t know what’s wrong?”

what--

“i just wanted to hear you say it, that’s all.”

the skin on his cheek suddenly looked so plump and fitting for your palm to kiss.

“say it, kitten.”

“there’s nothing to say--”

“no, tell me you’re jealous, and that you never want me to let choi minhee flirt with me again.”

“i really wish i could stab you and get away with it.”

“you won’t even if you could, because you love me and that’s why you’re jealous.”

the smile on his face was so sweet, it makes you want to shove an insulin jab into your eye. he was so satisfied with the way you reacted, it was absolutely unbelievable that he was getting so much out of you.

his torso was rocking back and forth so slightly, his face leaning forward into yours. his flirtatious eyes locks with yours that were fuelled with anger and jealousy.

“i don’t think you deserve to hear anything because of what you let her d--”

you were interrupted in the form of a sudden kiss with his hands lining your jaw, eyes instinctively shutting upon the contact and your arms moving downwards to hold onto the edge of the chair.

unwillingly, you melt into the kiss like marshmallow over a bonfire between crackers.

it was gentle, like clouds in the sky and cotton candy on lips. he tasted sweet, with his lips buried between yours and his warmth seeping through his hands into your cheeks.

the anger and jealousy trickles into him with every passing second, and you marvel at his ability to have such immense control over your feelings. he didn’t even need to do much for you to become his kitten.

the kiss feels like eternity until he pulls away, lids slowly opening to reveal his slightly lustful eyes now.

he knows you’re starting to feel the same.

“say it, kitten, and we’ll forget about takeaway.”

a harsh exhale hits the top of his lip from your nose, and some tiny bit of anger and jealousy inside you surfaces.

“what if i don’t want to?”

he chuckles and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“why is it so hard for you to admit that you want me to yourself and the thought of having another woman in the picture kills you? you think i didn’t see how you wanted to use eric to piss me off just now?”

literally nothing you do gets past this man, it’s annoying.

you try to turn your head but he holds your chin and brings it back to him,

“don’t avoid me, kitten. you’ve been trying to get rid of me for 10 years... but look where that got us?”

his attention switches from your eyes to your neck, soft skin being littered with light kisses softens you even more.

“i’m waiting, kitten.”

a sigh that must’ve sounded like music to him rings in the air while his arms wrap themselves around your waist. your rear nearly gets lifted off the seat, so your left hand rests on his shoulder blade and the other finds his hair to tangle your fingers in.

“i hate you, do you know that?”

he smiles into your skin, and for a moment, it feels like pure bliss.

“but if you let anybody flirt with you like that and you flirt back, i’ll cut off your dick and make you watch it burn.”

one harsh suck evicts a gasp from you as you cringe under him. his strength channels through your spine as he lifts you off the seat and carries you to the sofa.

“that’s my girl.”

the rough texture of your sofa greets the back of your neck when he shoves his lips between yours once again, this time more desperate.

neither of you were trying to hide how much you were feeling for one another; all you wanted to do was to kiss him all night long and have his hands roam your body like he didn’t already know everything about it.

the kisses were desperate but slow and sensual, and the only piece of clothing that’s come off was his shirt.

so you could run your hands all over his torso, drawing circles and caressing the muscles on his back atop the soft squelch of your tongues and lips pressing together every second.

his forearms were resting on the sofa on either sides of your ears, biceps perching his torso up so he wasn’t crushing you under his weight.

your legs were apart on both sides of his hips and you could feel him fiddling with the button on your pants while he takes his time to press his bulge against your clothed core.

soft moans escape into his mouth, and you start to feel a heat gather in your underwear.

knock knock

hyunjae pulls away so fast, you register the emptiness on your lips before you process the sound.

knock knock

“y/n! are you at home? i thought i saw the backyard lights on!”

“oh, shit.”

of all times to come, your parents had to come now?!

you push hyunjae off you while removing yourself from under him, grabbing his shirt from the ground and recklessly hurling it into his face.

“put on your fucking shirt--”

“y/n, we can hear you inside! are you okay?”

“yes, i’m fine! give me a moment!” you run to the glass door of your backyard and fix your hair.

hyunjae barely gets his t-shirt on when you run over to the front door, opening it with a tiny gap to reduce the chances of your parents walking in on your sworn enemy being in your apartment.

“hi mom... dad...”

both of them look at you weird, but the scent of fried chicken garners your attention.

“you’re still in office attire-- have you eaten?”

“i--”

“i knew it. come on, we bought fried chicken to share,” your mother takes a step forward and tries to push the door open.

“ahH--”

she stops dead in her tracks, and your father shoots you a confused look.

“i-- well--”

“spit it out. the chicken’s gonna get cold if you don’t speak any faster.”

“i have a visitor with me right now--”

“a visitor? oh, goodie! we can all share, i’m pretty sure we got more than enough--”

“it’s not really a good time, mom--”

“nonsense! i can’t believe you invite others over and not your own parents!”

“well, this was impromt--”

clang

“ow!”

an awkward silence befalls between you and your parents. confused looks swamp their eyes and you struggle to contain your panic.

“is that--”

“that sounds strangely familiar...”

oh, god.

“we’ve heard this voice before, haven’t we, darling?” your mother turns around to look at your father, and your face distorts into an ugly mess of emotions when a second clang rings through the house, followed by a low curse that you were pretty sure your parents could hear too.

“we’ve definitely heard that before-- oh!” a light bulb appears above your father’s face, and you beg with your eyes not to say it--

“it’s that guy from your high school and college!”

your mother gasps, and she covers her mouth in shock.

“lee hyunjae?!”

“he--”

“LEE HYUNJAE! ARE YOU IN THERE?!”

“mom--”

“LEE HYUNJAE, WE HAVE CHICKEN!!! YOU WANT SOME?!”

oh, good god.

this is going to be a long night.

your parents were sitting across you at the table, with hyunjae sitting by your side.

the air between the party was heavy, awkward, dense.

your father was confused but cheerful.

your mother was shocked but she just couldn’t wipe that smug smile off her face whenever she gave hyunjae a piece of chicken.

“so... what brings you here?”

hyunjae looks like he was a deer caught in headlights when your mother takes a sip of soda after asking the question.

“i-- we... have a research project to work on.”

under the table, a familiar situation occurs to when you first had lunch with both eric and hyunjae.

his right hand finds your left thigh and he provides you a light squeeze, forcing you to clench down into the chicken you had in your mouth.

“oh,” your mother places the cup down. “y/n never told us she’s in the research department.”

“it’s a side job, apart from working with patients.”

heat starts to pool under you, and a chill involuntarily runs up your spine. his fingers were digging into your flesh on your inner thigh, and its only making you think horrible thoughts even with your parents before you.

“i see. must be real busy then? we haven’t seen her in like... what, eight weeks? since she started working at the hospital? the other day we wanted to drop by, but she said she was still working. it was a sunday, if i’m not wrong...”

“sunday? two weeks ago?” hyunjae side-eyes you when both your parents were looking at each other for confirmation.

your father pulls out his phone, nodding. “i believe it was sunday, i remember seeing the date when i texted her.”

“right, yeah. i saw her having takeaway in the pantry after dealing with a patient.”

great. now he knows i blew my parents off for him.

your thigh gets massaged over again, and it takes an immense amount of effort to swallow the moan that was already halfway up your neck. your heart was thumping so fast, you weren’t too sure why.

but your father finishes the last piece of chicken he has on his plate, and your mother gets up to wash some of the cutlery and utensils.

hyunjae’s palm finally leaves your thigh alone and you sigh with relief, watching your father peel little pieces of meat off the bones.

you watch in the glass panels of your backyard beyond your living room as hyunjae offers to help your mother wash the plates and cups, forgetting for a moment that your father was sitting right infront of you.

“what are you staring at?”

the white shirt hyunjae was wearing in the reflection loses your attention when your father catches your eyes wandering off axis.

“uh-- nothing!”

he turns around and looks at the glass panels.

“i thought i saw something in the backyard, that’s all.”

“oh,” he responds emptily, turning around. “i thought my hair was in a mess or something.”

my life is going to shorten by like 50 years.

your parents offer hyunjae a ride home (without knowing his car was sitting right outside your residence), and you butt in by telling them that he has to stay because he’s not done with his part of the project.

luckily, they miss his little grope on your rear when you escort them to the front door.

“it was such a nice surprise to see you again after all these years, hyunjae.”

hyunjae gives your mother a sheepish smile, leaning against the door frame with your shoulders perpendicular to his chest.

“we should meet up with your parents some time soon, it has been awhile. shouldn’t we, honey?”

your father nods, pulling up his sleeve to check the time.

“we have to go, honey. we both have a long day tomorrow.”

“okay,” she turns back to the both of you.

your relationship with your mother was never the best. but she looks at you with warm, soft eyes. eyes that said she was proud of you. eyes that said she was happy to be your mother.

and there was nothing more that could comfort you in that moment.

but your mother decides to ruin it, eventually.

“we’ll be taking our leave now...”

“oh, and uh... your shirt’s inside out, hyunjae.”

the look on your father’s face changes like a switch and he laughs at you, turning on his heels and making his way down the steps to the car.

a cheeky grin spreads your mother’s face when the both of you turn to look at hyunjae’s shirt, and the tag on the back was sticking out behind his neck.

she leaves without saying anything else, and they both wave to your embarrassed selves as the car drives off.

you wait until the car was no longer in sight, and then you choose to slam the door shut and give hyunjae a hard punch to his chest.

“you had one job!”

“you opened the door so fast!”

“it is a shirt-- how difficult is it to wear a shi-- oh, my god, they are going to call your parents. they are going to ask them out for a meal. we are going to need to go too. oh, my god--”

“kitten.”

“what?!”

“do me a favour and shut up.”

the dim hallway reminds you of the first time he has his hand wrapped around your throat. hours after you removed the oncology report from his folder meant to be submitted to doctor kim.

you remember the fiery hatred in his eyes. the burning sensation of the wine you downed just seconds before you got the door open, thinking it was your mother.

but this time, his hands were on your waist, his physique gently pressing against yours against the wall behind you when he fits his lips between yours.

you remember the feeling of the cool wine hitting your skin after the arrogant smile you had on your face was completely wiped away by him pinning you to the kitchen island.

your palms greet his chest as they slide up over his shoulders, getting your fingers tangled in his hair feels like he was becoming part of you.

as if he wasn’t already.

time?

one decade.

memories?

a million.

heartbreaks?

four in total, two each.

the first heartbreak, orchestrated by the enemy.

the second heartbreak, broken by a lover in silence.

death?

a better choice than being anywhere else besides in his arms.

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

Epilogue

A/N: I AM SAD

#hyunjae #lee hyunjae #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz #hyunjae fanfic #the boyz fanfic #timetohajima hostis #i am sad

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katrinawritesthings · 4 years

Text

jonghyun / Taemin; performance piece; PG

can you believe I actually wrote a prompt : )

"I," he says confidently, "am," he says loudly, "i-in," he says noticing the neighbor downstairs and to the right of Jonghyun looking through their own window, "love with you," he says quietly, face on fire. and then, because he knows Jonghyun well tell him to say it louder anyway, repeats himself in a loud rush: "I am in love with you!"

And then quickly puts his face in his hands and crouches down in the dirt for a moment as the family on the sidewalk actually cheers.

The little hat of the acorn in Taemin's hand has a bumpy texture when he rubs his thumb over it, kind of staticy, soft but messy, and that's exactly what it feels like inside of his brain as he stands underneath Jonghyun’s second floor balcony and tosses it at his window.

More accurately, it feels anxious in there.

The argument from just an hour ago plays through his mind as he nervously jiggles all of the spare acorns that he picked up and put in his hoodie pocket along the way. He tosses another one to be sure that Jonghyun knows that it wasn't just a random noise.

Jonghyun loud and indignant, speaking over him and piling on, Taemin guilty and defensive, lashing out and dismissing Jonghyun’s emotions, both of them out of line. Neither of them saying anything constructive right up to the point that Jonghyun threw up his hands and announced that this just wasn't fucking worth it anymore and left.

Maybe Taemin showed up to try to talk to him again too fast. Maybe he should have waited longer. But then, wasn't one of Jonghyun’s main points that Taemin didn't even seem like he cared enough to put in effort? If this isn't effort, then he doesn't know what it is. But still, his head feels like it's made out of static and his hands twist and knot in his hoodie pocket and maybe he should just leave and come back another time and--

And now it's too late because Jonghyun has opened his glass door and stepped out onto the balcony and is frowning down at him, arms crossed on the banister, eyes narrowed.

"What?" His voice, cold like ice. Somehow, though, that lessens Taemin’s anxiety. Replaces some of it with annoyance. Jonghyun really doesn't get to be as mad as he is. Taemin came somewhat prepared for this conversation; at least the first part, so he doesn't second-guess himself and just plows right through with it.

"Okay, first of all," he starts, trying very hard not to think about how good Jonghyun looks from this angle, "you were meaner to me than I think I deserved and I really don't appreciate that and if this works out then I definitely want to talk about that later." And Jonghyun scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he also sucks in his cheeks, what he does when he's trying to suppress a pout, so Taemin lets it slide. "Second of all," Taemin says, and then he sighs.

"You were right," he mumbles. "I didn't––"

"Sorry, say that again? Louder? Real quick?"

Taemin glares up at him. He's looking all innocent, eyebrows raised, one hand on his chest, the other hand cupping his ear.

"You're a brat," he says, at full volume, and then tacks on, "and you were right."

And then he sighs again. puts his face in his hands, rubs his palms into his eyes and forces himself to look back up. Wills himself to say the words that he practiced in his brain in between their looped argument. Jonghyun looks ready to listen instead of just yelling at him some more, at least.

"I didn't know how to," Taemin starts. "I kept. It's just, like." he groans in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes. This is exactly his problem. Jonghyun was right. It's just so hard for him to say things out of his mouth so instead of saying them he pretends like they don't exist and gets defensive when people try to bring them up.

But not this time. He refuses to let his gremlin brain fuck this up for him.

"Every time," he says, clenching his hands hard around the acorns in his hoodie pocket and staring so hard at Jonghyun that he starts to look through him, "every time you would flirt with me or say I was cute or imply that you had feelings for me or whatever. It would make me panic because I thought you were joking, and. And, like. Um." His eyes drift over Jonghyun’s shoulder when he catches movement there and he is mortified to find Jonghyun’s sister leaning half around the sliding door curiously peeping out at him. "Um," he says. Jonghyun’s mom appears behind his sister, saying something to her that Taemin can't hear and then looking at him as well.

"Can-- can you come down here?" he asks Jonghyun. "Please?"

"No," Jonghyun says. "keep talking."

"God," Taemin hisses. "fucker," he snaps. He rubs his hands into his flushed cheeks this time, running through a list of his priorities in his head. Looking out for himself and keeping himself comfortable is important, yeah, but so is Jonghyun, and making sure he doesn't lose Jonghyun is more important to him then being pushed out of his comfort zone for one conversation.

"Fine, but if I do this here then this is the only time I'll ever do something like this and you can't make me do it again," he calls. "This is a one-time-only event."

Besides, he can tack this on to the conversation that they'll hopefully have after this about Jonghyun being unnecessarily mean to him. But first things first, they need to be able to get to that conversation.

"Do it, then," Jonghyun calls back. His voice is steady, challenging, but Taemin can see him shifting his weight, biting his lip. Well. At least he does feel bad about it. That's something. He isn't completely dismissing Taemin’s boundaries. Taemin takes a deep breath and tries again. For real this time. For all the marbles.

"I thought you were just joking, so it made me panic and push you away because." he swallows, clenches his fists so hard he actually feels one of the acorn stems pop through his skin, hisses and whips his hand out of his pocket. Pinching the tiny little wound, a bead of blood rises out of it and he quickly covers it with his thumb before he gets all woozy about it. Focus.

He notices that Jonghyun’s mom has moved to the other side of the door, so the two of them look like they're flanking him, all three of them arms crossed, and that almost makes him even more woozy. He forces his eyes back to Jonghyun. Focus.

"Because I. I feel. About you. And when I thought my feelings were real and yours weren't, I--"

“You feel what about me?"

God, Jonghyun really is perfect for him. All his life Taemin has wanted someone that would cut through his bullshit and help him get his thoughts out clearly. He just wishes that it was as easy as he always dreamed it would be instead of how this is right now, sweat soaking his back, blinking so fast it's like he's his own personal strobe light. Maybe it'll get easier with time. Maybe that's the idea.

Fuck, he sure hopes so.

"I feel so-- so much. About you," he says. He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders, trying to think of all of the things that Jonghyun makes him feel and coming up with so many that they all mix and blend together into one cohesive mass that he can't pluck one specific thing out of. "I look at you, and I."

He looks at Jonghyun, and feels how Jonghyun makes him feel, And his face breaks into a smile, His lungs push out an enamored breath, and his body relaxes just enough for his heart to get out of his throat and swell in his chest Instead. "I feel--" he starts.

Then Jonghyun's left neighbor opens their window.

Loudly. And slowly.turning the squeaky crank deliberately, plastic blinds clacking together, until it's all the way open. And when they finish, they lean out of it, chin in their hand, and look at him.

Casually, pleasantly, like he’s a fucking street performer or something.

Taemin looks back at them, mouth open. What the fuck. He looks at Jonghyun, gestures at them, looks around to see if there is literally anyone else around here that they could actually be looking at.

He doesn't find anyone behind him, but on the sidewalk, he finds a whole family, mommy and mommy and two 5 year olds all on matching scooters, stopped with every eyeball also on him.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters. He lives in clown town and he's the main fucking attraction. Wrenching his eyes back up to Jonghyun, all he sees is raised eyebrows and smirking lips and he scowls. "Okay, fuck you too," he snaps. All Jonghyun does in response to that is smile wide, bright, dazzling, and lick his lips, nod at him in an order to keep talking. Taemin sighs loud and mucousy in the back of his throat and then decides to just rip the bandaid off and say it.

And then quickly puts his face in his hands and crouches down in the dirt for a moment as the family on the sidewalk actually cheers.

Then he pops back up before anyone else can say anything, including Jonghyun, who’s smile has changed into the one where the corners of his lips disappear behind his cheeks and his eyes glitter behind his lashes.

Taemin knows that smile so well, and he knows what it feels like inside of himself, and underneath all of his embarrassment and anxiety and shyness, he feels it now, repeating that confession over and over in celebration.

"And I've been-– like that with you for a long time. And so I thought you were joking and I brushed you off because I couldn't make myself believe that you felt that way about me back. But then, that made you confused. Because you thought-–" Their argument flashes through his mind again. "because you thought I wasn't taking you seriously. and you couldn't make yourself believe that I cared. And I am so sorry about that." He is so sorry that he ever did anything to make Jonghyun feel that he didn't care about him.

"But," he continues. "you said this-–" he flaps his hand back and forth between them two mean their friendship, then remembers he stabbed himself earlier and presses his thumb back into his palm– "I want to be worth it," he says. "I want us to make it worth it. Together." he doesn't care how hard it is. He cares about Jonghyun so much and if he has to stay up all night talking with him to make it work then he'll do it. "because," and then, still blushing, he repeats for good measure, "I love you."

One of the kids on the sidewalk cheers again.

Jonghyun stays quiet, looking at him, smiling at him, tongue between his lips. Taemin stays quiet too because he feels like he made his point and he also feels like if he said any more then he wouldn't shut up. Eventually, Jonghyun gets his forearms off of the banister and pushes himself up with his hands there instead, biting his lip before saying, "You really figured all of that out in an hour, huh?"

"Yeah, well," Taemin says. "Yeah." he brings both hands up together to push through his hair. It was honestly wild to figure out both Jonghyun’s feelings and his own in an hour , but he always has worked best under pressure. "Now you say it back." he demands. Sternly. Definitely without pouting. No matter what anyone else watching might say.

"What?" Jonghyun says blankley.

"Say you love me back, Jonghyun!" Taemin says, definitely in a very strong and clear voice that is not at all whiny, and definitely without stomping his foot into the dirt like a child. The whole fucking reason that they got into that argument in the first place was that Jonghyun was trying to lead into a confession, and if he's not even going to-–

"You tell him."

"Wuh?" Taemin turns, baffled, at a voice from the sidewalk. The family is still there, but now there’s some elderly gay there also, grizzled and grumpy looking, leaning on his walking stick and looking right at him.

"You tell it to him good, kid," he says. "Don't let him play you. He needs to be honest too." and he taps his walking stick on the ground with much more authority than Taemin thinks he will ever have.

"Uh," Taemin says, still baffled but at least glad that this nosy asshole has a point that he can use. He whips back to Jonghyun, pointing at the old gay loudly. "Yeah," he says. "Yes. Yeah! Say it back. Tell me you love me and you weren't joking!" He demands loudly. "Please," he adds, quieter, sheepish, because he immediately feels bad about yelling.

"OH!” Jonghyun exclaims, eyes wide. He giggles, tapping his temple with the heel of his palm and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, right, of course. Taemin." he takes a deep breath, steadies himself, widens his stance, and gets his face into something more serious. Or at least, is trying to fight down his smile.

"I am in love with you back," he says, and Taemin instantly inflates with the happiest breath he's ever breathed. "And I was never joking," Jonghyun continues. "Never ever. Never ever ever. And I'm sorry that I was so harsh with you when we were arguing," he adds. He has more of a sad smile now, guilty, regretful, which again, Taemin appreciates. "I really crossed a line. But I want to work on that and with you." He flaps a hand back and forth between them the same way Taemin did earlier. "To make being with me also worth it."

And then he falls silent, having made his point. Taemin looks up at him, and Jonghyun looks back down at him, and both of them just look at each other for a long while. Taemin bites his lip, feels His heart thudding throughout his entire body.

"Okay," he says.

"Okay," Jonghyun says.

"Okay," Taemin smiles.

"Okay," Jonghyun beams.

"Kiss him!" One of Jonghyun’s neighbors calls. Taemin doesn't even know which one because there are so many fucking people watching them by now. This is the worst possible place he could have picked for a confession, but he's here now, and honestly, the hard part is over. Talking about his emotions is awful. Kissing is easy.

Besides, for the first time, Jonghyun is blushing, pink over his nose. For the first time, Taemin smiles confidently and raises his brows up at him.

"Will you come down here now?" he asks. Jonghyun blushes harder, but he bites his lip and nods, turning to slip through his mom and his sister, hands coming up to his face. Taemin smiles at his back, then looks down at his hands, then remembers again that he stabbed himself with an acorn. "and can you bring me a Band-Aid?" he calls hopefully.

"Yeah," Jonghyun calls back from halfway through his house.

And then it's a minute or two of Taemin just standing there, in the dirt behind this apartment complex, trying very hard to pretend that he doesn't have at least 10 people watching him, before Jonghyun comes down the steps a few windows down and jogs up to him.

"Hey," he says, and "hi," Taemin says, and then they just stand there, both of them, smiling, blushing, blushing and smiling. Jonghyun picks up his wrist and Taemin shows him his hand, the little pinpoint cut that had stopped bleeding by now but pops and starts again when he squishes it to demonstrate."Ew," Jonghyun mumbles. He pulls out a little disinfectant wipe and a tube of medicine, and he very gently cleans and bandages the wound with a small circle Band-Aid with a puppy on it.

Then he kisses Taemin’s hand, lips touching only the Band-Aid, and then he just holds Taemin’s hand in both of his, under his chin, smiling at him, blinking at him through his lashes, expectant in a way that takes Taemin a very long time to understand. He's just too busy getting lost in Jonghyun’s gorgeous brown eyes to think about anything else. Eventually, though, he remembers they're supposed to be kissing, and with a start, he says, "Oh! You want me to kiss you?"

"Yes," Jonghyun says, bouncing down and up once like it should be obvious. Taemin blows a lot of air through his lips, shrugging.

"Well, I don't know," he says. "You're the one that's always talking about, like, how forward you are, and how you like initiating things, and, like. Like you're an extrovert, and you're outgoing, and you always say you're an Aries like that means something. And I figured, I don't know, you were the one that was trying to confess to me in the first place, so maybe you're the one that wanted to kiss me first, and like…."

He's rambling. Taemin knows this. He's rambling so quiet and fast and disjointed that he barely even knows what the fuck he's talking about, and it occurs to him while he's doing it that he could just be kissing Jonghyun instead. So he does that. He stops mid-sentence, cups Jonghyun’s face with both hands, and presses their mouths together.

Applause erupts from all around them, but in his hands, Jonghyun’s cheeks push his thumbs up, and that's all that Taemin is going to focus on from here on out.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #oneshot #pg #fluff #they finish kissing and go inside and talk more about like how much they like each other #and how Taemin is going to really try not to be defensive and avoid his emotions anymore #and how Jonghyun will work on his anger and the way he lashes out disproportionate to the rest of the argument #anyway tend it's a very nice conversation that gets interrupted by many kisses #and only eavesdropped on by Mom and sis this time and not like everyone on the planet #ydw

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lilytriestoexist · 4 years

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Erawan With Bangs: A Sequel

I was stressing myself out over a physics assignment involving eyeballs so I decided the ideal stress relief was...writing fanfiction about EWB. Again. Really, it’s all physics’s fault. Also, I haven’t read all of K0A, so this is nowhere near what actually happened in canon, but it's probably way cooler. Featuring: @crescentcitysux @croissantcitysucks and @antisjmmemes. Obligatory tag: @erawanwithbangs . And it’s 12am here, so goodnight lol. (i think i 'peaked' with the first one. also, tw/ erawan kills people and there's talk about blood)

His new look, Erawan decided, was the most powerful weapon in his disposal. It had struck his Valg Princes and common underlings speechless with its sheer magnificence. Not one person had spoken out against his mighty bangs, for they were faultless and flawless, and most definitely not because he had snapped the neck of the sole demon commoner who had given his hair a displeased side-eye. No, the people had spoken, and his bangs were glorious.

But while he and his bangs carried his side of the war to victory after victory, Maeve was not doing as well. The nasty brat who styled herself a queen - what was her name, Alien? Ayla? No, it was Eileen. Yes, Fire Queen Eileen had escaped from Maeve’s clutches and was reunited with her mate, Ronan, her cousin Adrian, her friend Lydia, and a few other Fae males whose names he couldn’t remember. They all started to blend together after a while, anyway. The last he’d heard from Maeve through their Valg bloodlink, Eileen’s court was a thorn in her side, and one she was determined to rip out and incinerate. Erawan had opened his mouth, intending to ask about her strange obsession with Eileen and Ronan’s romance, but he’d caught a glance of his bangs in the tableware and decided he had other priorities. A strand of hair was longer than the others in his otherwise immaculate bangs; Maeve, Eileen, and Ronan could wait.

Anyway, the point was that Maeve was not doing great, but he was doing pretty great, and so the clear resolution to this was to go help her out. Which was why he was here, using his powers a few metres off the ground, skin bleeding wisps of shadow. His bangs flapped in the gentle breeze as he lead his army forward to meet Terrasen’s own, smirking as it registered on their puny faces that he himself was leading his forces. Shock, fear, horror, and resignation flitted across their tiny faces in quick succession, but still they raised their weapons and charged, foolish bravery etched into their bones. A slow grin spread across his face, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth, as black swallowed his eyes whole and he leapt forward.

After a while, severing heads from bodies and tearing organs from beneath fragile skin got boring, and the spurt of blood from open wounds no longer gave him a similar rush of satisfaction. How easy it was to steal life from humans, to toss them aside like puppets with cut strings. He had lived thousands of their short lifetimes, and he would live thousands more.

“ERAWAN!”

A cry rang out through the battlefield, and he looked up, brows raised, as he shoved aside the latest victim of his dark, blazing whips. And speaking of blazing, Eileen was making her way across the grass, stepping over the dead and dying bodies of her soldiers, twin flames surging from her upward-facing palms and casting warm light across her pale face. Sunlight gleamed off her gold armour, and a matching broadsword hung from her belt.

“Eileen.” He gave her a nod of acknowledgement, but she just stared, jaw dropping.

“Did you just call me Eileen?”

Erawan blinked, unimpressed. “That’s your name, so of course I did.”

She spluttered, flailing her hands around and sending tiny embers of glowing orange fluttering through the air. “I - my name is AeIin!” she snarled, baring her canines.

He gave her a long, hard stare. “I’m going to call you Eileen,” he announced. “Because you look like an Eileen.”

“AeIin!” A hawk came swooping down from the clouds and transformed into a man with short white hair and word-like tattoos sprawled across half his face, Eileen’s apparent name spilling from his lips.

“Ah!” Erawan looked him up and down. “You must be Ronan.”

Ronan pressed two fingers into the inner corners of his eyes, just below his brow-bones, and ignored him. “AeIin - “

“I told you not to come, Rowan,” Eileen snapped. “This is between me and him.”

“Ronan can stay if he wants,” Erawan said. “The more the merrier. I’ve always enjoyed slaughtering Fae. Do you happen to have any friends you could bring along?”

“Rowan, I can do this,” Eileen said, staring deep into his eyes before surging up to meet him. Erawan averted his gaze as Ronan returned her action with equal fervour, coughing into his hand and whistling a tune, tapping his foot in time with the clashing of metal on metal and the haunting song of warfare that flooded from the still-raging battle.

When he turned back around, they were still going at it. With a growl of annoyance, he sent a snaking tendril of darkness and made it slap them away from each other.

“Are you done?” he demanded. “Less making out, more taking out.”

Ronan looked torn, but finally turned back into a hawk and took off into the air, flapping his great wings and circling the battlefield before something caught his eye and he flew until he was only a small speck against a sea of blue.

The glow of an approaching fireball made him look at Eileen’s face, twisted into a grimace of determination. He batted away the fireball, sending it careening into one of her own soldiers and grinning as the poor man was turned to ash, but she kept them coming - fireballs that shifted between red, orange, and yellow every time he blinked, massive walls of flame that engulfed the nearby area, since thankfully people had the sense to stay away, whips that mirrored his own favourite attack that tried to wind around his arms and lash out at his legs.

When she jumped deftly over a rippling wave of night and curled her fingers, conjuring another fireball and flicking it at him, his hand rose to hit it away, like he had for all the others. But this one had been aimed higher than his chest, and his fingers skimmed through air. Instinct kicked in, sending him skidding to the side as the fireball just barely missed his head and continued through the air. Erawan breathed a sign of relief, hand reaching up to caress his bangs and summon good luck.

He knew something was wrong when he felt plain skin instead of the comfort of his bangs, lovely and golden and smooth as the finest silk. His gaze turned to the floor, where strands of hair floated to rest on the grass, burnt off by the fireball. He barely registered Eileen taking advantage of his momentous loss, but his powers kicked in, a shield springing up between them.

Erawan sank to his knees, touching his fingers to what was left of his poor, poor bangs. The colour had been swallowed by ashy black, and a thin line of smoke wafted from the debris, twisting and twirling in the air, mocking him. Eileen was still hammering away at his shield. His hand went back to his forehead, measuring the wideness, touching where the hair had been burnt off. He could feel the tight coils of agony scrape against his throat, against the writhing walls of his stomach, and all he could do was let it out.

Darkness erupted from him as he screamed, pouring out all his pain and grief and agony into the one sound, loud and high-pitched and thick with mourning. It did not go to attack Eileen, though she took cover beneath a cocoon of flames, nor any of her followers. Instead, it danced around the blood-stained field before coalescing into a ring of black, rotating in mid-air, a thin glowing sheen of white barely visible within. His magic, acting on its master’s inner thoughts, summoning the only people who might understand.

Aelia, Lyn, and Salty appeared, stepping out of the portal and descending to the ground, confusion apparent on their faces as they took in Eileen, blanketed in protective flames, to the battle that was in the process of resuming, to him, hunched on the ground and shaking.

“Erawan with bangs?” Lyn asked, prodding at his shoulder. Another tortured cry ripped itself from the crevices of his throat at the cruel reminder, and she jumped, exchanging concerned glances with her companions. “Uh, Erawan?”

“It’s gone,” he murmured, covering his massive forehead with his left palm.

“What’s gone?” Salty asked with a frown, before realisation filled their eyes. “Oh no. It’s gone, isn’t it?”

“The bangs,” Aelia breathed, and winced as he howled yet again. “Okay, you can stop doing that now. How did it happen?”

“Her,” he whispered, limbs stiffening. “Her.” He pushed himself off the ground and extended a single trembling finger at Eileen, who extinguished her flames and blinked at the new arrivals and his fragile state.

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, embers flying from her fingertips in warning. “He’s trying to take over the world as we know it, I’m trying to stop him. I don’t know what lies he’s fed you, but it’s not true.”

Lyn waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “He hasn’t told us anything.” she said, “and he doesn’t need to. We already know what those in this world are doing with their lives, and I’m not a fan of either camp.”

“What?” Eileen’s brows shot up. “But I’m right! He’s literally an evil monster!”

Salty shrugged. “And you’re an annoying bitch who’s expressed take-over-the-world desires. I think both of you aren’t great. And I don’t really care.” Their expression hardened. “What I do, or did care about were those bangs. Those glorious, glorious bangs.”

“Always in our hearts,” Aelia said, resting her palm over her chest solemnly. “You will never be forgotten, bangs. We will remember you forever.”

Eileen sent a massive wall of flame at them, apparently losing her temper, but Lyn snapped her fingers and it disappeared. Eileen’s second attempt met the same fate, and then her third and fourth as well.

“You know, Erawan without bangs,” Aelia said.

“Yeah?” he replied, choking back a sob.

“I think we should give - wait, what’s this girl’s name? I thought it was AeIin.”

“No, it’s definitely Eileen.”

“Well, maybe we should give Eileen a little payback. You know, as a treat.”

A second later, he had strode over to where Eileen was desperately sending fireball after fireball at a cackling Lyn, his own night black flame cradled in his hand. She had no time to react before he’d coaxed it to leap through the air and onto the ends of her hair, crawling up the strands of gleaming blonde until her whole head was lit up, apart from the strands of hair that hung in front of her forehead. She screamed and writhed, but he had tendrils of shadow wrapped around her wrists and ankles, and more strips over her neck and chin, keeping her head immobilised. Within a minute, all her long hair had been eaten up, apart from the area he’d left untouched. She was almost completely bald, her hairless head shining like an egg.

“Here,” Salty said, handing him the pair of scissors he kept in his bedroom. “Don’t ask any questions.” He didn’t.

“Get away from me,” Eileen sobbed. “What are you doing, get away, get away!”

“You must face the consequences of your own actions,” Lyn declared, poking at Eileen’s pointed ears and looking very unimpressed.

He balled up all his rage and grief at the loss of his bangs, steadied his hands, and began cutting. Eileen dissolved into a string of whimpers as he ruthlessly cut her the worst fringe he could imagine having, all ragged and crooked lines, with no layering to break up the monotonous fall of hair, almost covering her eyes. When the final chunk of blonde fell to the floor, he waved his hand, ensuring that no strand of hair outside of his ugly fringe would ever grow on Eileen’s head. Aelia, Lyn, and Salty then each placed a finger on the fringe and said what he assumed to be an ancient, esoteric spell from their own world, sealing it with flashes from their rectangles. I wonder what magical properties the word ‘fuck’ has, he thought.

Once they had completed their spell, Erawan stepped back and waved away Eileen’s restraints. Aelia tossed her a mirror that he was almost sure came from his possessions as well, and they watched as Eileen ran quivering hands over her egg-like bald head, felt the fringe they’d left behind, and finally, looking like she’d rather be six feet beneath the earth, brought her face to the mirror.

Her ensuing scream of anguish was the most delightful thing he’d ever heard. He hummed the tune, the rising and falling in pitch and cracking of tone, as he grew himself a new pair of bangs the next morning.

#erawan with bangs #why am i doing this to myself

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amunraanders · 5 years

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KAI PARKER X READER

Summary : Kai meets Reader for the First time at the bakery. Reader has No Idea who he is but soon enough she will find Out (I'm not good at summaries)

PART ONE.

(Y\N) stormed Into the Salvstore's Boarding House as If a Thunderstorm was right behind her.Quickly Walking Into the living room she Put the cupcakes on the table and threw herself on the Couch besides Elena who was sitting next to Damon.

Elena wanted to say something but (Y\N) inerrupted her.

"You Guys won't believe what just happened" she started pouring herself a Drink as everyone watched her.

"I went to the bakery earlier today to get the cupcakes Caroline ordered for our little get together.So I stand there in Line and barely two minutes Into waiting some Guy bumps into me. As Always i had some Coffee with me wich was as you guessed burning hot and as this Dude bumps into me its content spilled all over my Dress and Floor" She gulped her Drink down in one go visibly angry about the situation.

"So I'm thinking ..wow this can't be Happening.He just walked by as if nothing had happened,so I started walking towards him ,grabbing him by the shoulder,making him turn around" (Y\N) pointed at her Coffee stained Dress annoyed and in disbelief.

The others Just stared at her in shock not knowing what to say ,they kept glancing at one another but No one said anything.

"And I'm Like geez are you blind?aren't you going to apologize?Look at the mess you Made" she gulped down her second Drink while she stood Up walking around the living room angrily looking for a mirror.

"Not to mention that he was on his phone this entire time.His eyes glued to the screen, but I couldn't Help but notice how he was grinning this entire time and I thought 'great another freak' .Just as I thought that he wasn't going to say a Word he looked Up at me and started blabbering nonsense for at least 3 minutes.

"Oh Hey didn't notice you were in the way.I Just Made and Twitter Account and I'm new to this technology stuff so it took some time but now I'm all Set Up but wow people Share the stuppiest Things on here.Like Who wants to know what they Just had for Dinner or what Kind of movies they're watching .I mean I don't .so . Kinda crazy.Huh?"

(Y\N) stopped in front of the mirror staring at the mess of a dess she had on.

"I was honestly baffled by this whole situation.I Just started at him dumbfounded" she said pausing for a Moment to wipe the excess Coffee away from her dress in a desperate attempt to dry it.

Damon pulled Elena closer to him as he whispered Into her ear "does this sound familiar to you?" Elena glanced at him with confusion in her eyes wondering for a Moment before she realized who Damon might be talking about.

(Y\N) was about to go on with her story when Damon spoke Up.

"Wait a second. Do you remember what he looked like? Something that caught your eye? Like large Rings?Lots of them"

She stared at him in disbelief.Her eyeballs almost falling Out of their Sockets.

"Do you know this Guy? Honestly I couldn't Help but notice how blue his eyes were..reminded me of the ocean..Any-anyways let me Finish"

Elena started tugging at Damons Shirt in hopes of getting his Attention when (Y\N) started ranting again.

"So when he finally put his Phone away he Just turned around without saying anything and grabbed the cupcakes that I had to picke Up and walked away" She was heading to the Couch again literally throwing herself on it. Elena handed her another Drink and she seemed to relax for the First time in the past few hours.

"Again I Just stood there dumbfounded by everything that had happened" gulping down her last Drink she let her head Fall back into the Sofa cussions.

Caroline stared at (Y\N) Kind of cathing on , about who he might have been.

"What happened next?You still brought cupcakes did ,you strangle this dude over it?" She giggled a bit after playing the Scene Out in her mind.

"I Wish I would have.I regret it by now.This Guy was the Most annoying Person I've ever met and he only talked for 3 minutes"

"First I Made Sure that I buy new cupcakes after that I quickly followed him outside but by the time I caught Up with him ,he was gone.Like magically gone.Vanished Into thin air.Like how is that even possible?One Minute he's standing right next to me the other minute he's gone.And I swear to God I felt Like being watch the entire time I walked Up to my Car"

At this Point everyone started to murmur stuff and (Y\N) quickly went in wanting them to hear the whole story.

"So Here comes the freakiest Part about this whole Freak Show" (Y\N) said nevously .

"When I finally get Into my Car ,I notice someone opening the door and getting Into the passengers Seat .Its this Guy again and I Start thinking to myself 'this Guy is either lunatic or his head is waay too far Up his ass to think that he could get away with Entering my Car without permission.just Like that."

At this Point everyone knew who (Y\N) was talking about and they were Just as pissed Off as she was.Kaid had promised them to stay away from her.She and Matt we're the only humas left in their Gang and everyone got worried when Kai started asking questions about her.

"So at this Point my blood is boiling and all I can think about is how I'm going to slap him Out of my Car If he won't Go willingly but then again I didn't know who he was .He could be a Psychopath for all I know and Just as I wanted to say something He started blabbering again.It felt Like it was going in for hours"she said her eyes closed ,hands resting in her lap.

"He goes 'Hey there cutie.I'm a bit rusy at this Thing called 'socializing, but you're really really pretty so I thought I'd ask you Out.Like on a Date.Movies or Dinner?Maybe both.What do you say?Your Heartbeat is Off the chats so I guess Its a yes' and this entire time He was eating a cupcake 'more Like devouring it' licking the frosting on top and Off his Fingers.I thought I was going to Pass Out"

The others shifted their Attention to the kitchen as Kai leaned into the door frame while eating a cupcake , he was visibly amused by (Y\N) Story and Just as Caronline was about to say something He Made a "shhhh" sign using his Magic to Cut her Off mid sentence.

"I thought Well ok this is it ,If I say No he's going to murder me or something but then He pulled Out a pen and grabbed my arm writing something on it.His fucking Phone number and Name.I was baffled" she tried so hard to say something,to Push him Out of her car to scream but nothing came Out of her mouth.Kai eyed her Up and down one Last Time before getting Out of the Car and vanishing Into Thin Air.

Damon felt and uncontrolable Anger burning inside of him but He tried hard to Push it away to ask (Y\N) one question . And He prayed to God that the answer wouldn't be ,'Kai' or Else he'd have to rip his Heart Out.

"What did it say? His name I mean" He asked while balling his hands Into fists .

That was when Kai slowly Made his way from the kitchen towards (Y\N),still eating his cupcake, frosting smeared all over his lips.

" 'Kai' that's what it said.Awwe don't Look that surprised I bet you all knew from the beginning" He has smriking from ear to ear seeing her with her mouth wide open as He made his was to to Couch sitting right next to her.

#kai parker fanfiction #kai parker smut #kai parker #kai parker imagine #tvd smut #tvd fic #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #readmyblog #readersofinstagram #part 1 #damon salvatore #elena gilbert

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deadlybeautydbz · 4 years

Text

Little Moments

So, the anon asking me the other day about 17 and 18 fic recs got me thinking. I wanted to write something for you, anon, but for a little while I was stumped as to what. So I took inspiration from my own life for this one. I myself have a twin brother and we’re both parents, so I asked myself, what does hanging out with my brother look like, and I give you this.

17 and 18 washing dishes.

You wanted random sibling hangs, here you go, with the most random hang of all. Really though, this is what hanging out as adults, siblings, parents looks like for us and I’m pretty happy with this for something I whipped up in a day. I hope ya’ll enjoy!

Little Moments:

“That’s the last of them gone,” 17 said, his voice thick with relief as he walked into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Who would have known twenty 7 year olds would be such a handful.”

He had just closed the door on last straggling guest of his oldest son, Onyx, 7th birthday party. He’d cheerfully waved goodbye as he watched the boy and his mother wander off down the driveway, party bag and balloon clutched firmly in hand. He felt kind of guilty, sending that child home hopped up to his eyeballs on sugar, but the guilt was short lived, birthday parties we meant to be fun-filled sugar trips.

“Literally everyone, 17” 18, who was seated at the table in the centre of the kitchen, nursing a mug of rapidly cooling tea, replied. “Literally everyone knows that. Why do you think I only have one?”

“You should give Marron a brother or sister.” 17 said offhandedly, as he began the arduous task of putting his house back together post child-birthday-party-chaos. “It’d be good for her.”

“Hmmm,” 18 stood up from the table and reached for an empty garbage bag. She moved about the kitchen, filling it with plastic plates and cups, deflated balloons and discarded wrapping paper. “Maybe,” she mused. “I’d be lying if I said we hadn’t thought about it. The timing never seems quite right though, and Marron was such a fussy baby, I don’t know if I have it in me to go back to the baby stage and do all that again. It’s so nice that she’s older and more independent now.”

“Of course you could do it again!” 17 said as he pushed furniture around the room, putting things back as they were meant to be. “You’re a great mum. Mare-bear is lucky to have you. Does she miss that old lump of sand you used to call home?”

“Hey,” 18’s brow crinkled as she only half-feigned hurt. “We all liked that lump of sand. A lot of good things happened to us there.”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” 17 teased “It was a fine sandbank.”

“Shut up,” 18 laughed. “You can hardly talk, all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.” She knew 17 was just trying to rile her up, that was just what brothers, especially hers, did. It didn’t matter how many years passed, or that he was now a husband, a father and a well-respected conservationist, he was an eternal man-child at heart. It was no wonder he got along with Goku so well. “She doesn’t seem to miss it too much these days,” 18 said, bringing their conversation back on track. “It’s been what,” she paused to quickly do the math, “three years now since Krillin joined the force, three and a half almost. She’ll always be an ocean girl at heart, but she’s happy in the city. It was the best thing we could’ve done for her really.”

Having filled the rubbish bag as much as she could, 18 tied a knot at the top, and placed it beside the side door, ready for disposal outside later, before turning her attention to the pile of dishes stacked up precariously beside the sink.

“You don’t have to do those,” 17 stepped in, but his sister was having none of it. “Don’t be silly,” she replied whilst squirting a generous amount of dish soap into the sink and silently patting herself on the back for buying a house with a dishwasher. “You and Amya hosted us all day, the least I can do is help tidy up. Tell you what, I’ll wash, you dry.”

“Deal,” 17 smiled. It was so rare to get to spend any sort of quality time with his sister these days, they were both so busy and their schedules always seemed to clash, so he would happily take whatever he could get, even if it was as mundane as standing together at his kitchen sink, washing dishes.

They stood quietly together for a moment, silently passing wet plates and glasses between themselves. From where they stood, they could look out into 17’s lush, tree filled yard, where Krillin was running around like an absolute mad-man, laughing and shouting with Marron and her three cousins. His love and exuberance never ceased to amaze 18. He was going to be forty soon, and yet there he was, after spending an entire afternoon entertaining a gaggle of under-10’s, still going, giving even more of himself to those kids out there, each of whom he loved more than anything else in this world – except maybe for her.

“He’s a good guy, Krillin,” 17 broke the quiet with an observation, “You chose well with him.”

“I know,” 18 smiled smugly. She liked hearing that she was right. “But you’ve certainly changed your tune over the years.

It was far from a secret that 17 hadn’t exactly been a fan of Krillin in the beginning. As a suitor for his sister, it just didn’t seem to fit. Why would he, of all people, be interested in her when he knew what he did about how, and why, she had come to be in this world? 17 was convinced that he must have had some nefarious ulterior motive.

“What can I say” he shrugged, “I’m a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s the best” 18 smiled as her eyes followed her husband across the yard. “Ugh,” 17 groaned “You’re still in puppy-love with him after all this time. Get a room, my god, yuck.” “As if you can talk!” 18 shot back, trying desperately to hide her embarrassment. “I see the way you look at Amya. You’re completely smitten with her!” “Of course I am!” 17 boasted proudly. “I mean, have you seen her?! She’s a solid ten outta ten. And she’s smart as hell, and she puts up with my shit on the daily. Every day I wonder how the hell I ever convinced her to marry me!” “She’s certainly way out of your league, that’s for sure.” “Ouch, that hurts sis” “Oh, don’t be such a baby,” 18 grinned and flicked soapy water in her brother’s direction.

A high pitched squeal from the garden caught the twins’ attention, ending their mild bullying of each other. They both snapped their heads up to inspect the situation and their respective children, looking for any obvious signs of hurt of injury, and to see which kid it was exactly, that was getting out of hand. It could have been any one of them really, given the unfettered access to sugar they had had this afternoon. “They’ll be right,” 18 said, confident no bones were broken out there, as she resumed washing the dishes in the sink. “Krillin is more than capable of keeping the four of them under control.”

17 shook his head and laughed, “I think you’re seriously under-estimating how rowdy my lot can be. They just seem to leech energy off each other. They never stop!” “He deals with criminals every day, I think he can handle a couple of kids.” “Whatever you say, sis,” 17 mumbled and shrugged his shoulders. “Personally, I’d take the crooks over those terrors any day of the week.”

As she handed her brother another clean dish, 18 asked. “No more for you guys either then, I’m guessing? It seems like you have your hands full.” “I wouldn’t say that,” 17 replied. “They’re a lot of fun, and Am would definitely be down for more, but it’s hard enough with the three of them with my schedule, and her research. I don’t know how she manages with them by herself while I’m away.” “It’s probably easier without you here riling them up all day” 18 joked “You kid, but let’s be real, you’re probably right!” 17 had to agree. “I’m basically her fourth child. I’m sure her life is much less chaotic when I’m not around.” “She loves the chaos, I’m sure.”

Handing 17 the last clean dish, 18 pulled the plug from the sink and watched the water gurgle down the drain. She wiped down the sink and dried her hands before flicking the kettle on to make herself another cup of tea. She pulled down two clean mugs and poured one for 17 too. He smiled and gladly took it from her and they sat down together at the table.

“If we did have more, we’d definitely adopt again,” 17 picked up his train of thought as he sipped his tea. “It was so rewarding giving River and Storm a second chance. I’d like to that again if I could.”

The story of how the now 4 year old twins River and Storm had found their way into 17 and Amya’s life was nothing short of remarkable. 17 had found them, abandoned as infants, less than six months old, in the nature park where he worked. He had taken them in, and taken them home. Much to his wife’s surprise, he had walked through the door one day, carrying an infant in each arm, and just like that, 17 and Amya had become parents to three kids under the age of three.

“And you know, getting as many kids out of the system as possible can only be a good thing. Stop them ending up, like, y’know…” he faulted for a moment “like us.” He stopped, waiting for his sister to respond, but she didn’t, she just sat, staring at her hands, not even able to look him in the eye. “Do you ever wonder if there is anyone out there missing us?”

“Don’t” 18 quickly interjected, her voice soft and wistful. “I can’t. I have to think that we weren’t wanted.” She stopped to sip her tea and think about what she wanted to say next. “The alternative, as a mother, is so much worse. Having your child ripped away from you, I can’t even comprehend it.”

That was, deep down, the real reason why Marron was an only child. 18 was so protective of her daughter, and the thought of having to split that devotion between two children, was terrifying. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to constantly have eyes on two children. Tying herself up with the demands of a newborn would surely mean having to accept the fact that there would be times that Marron would need to be left alone and that scared 18 to her core. She would never, ever forgive herself if anything happened to her precious child.

“How do you do it?” 18 asked, “How do you leave them without being terrified of all the things that could happen to them? That happened to us?” “You’ve just gotta back yourself in, sis” 17 leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. “Your job as a parent is to slowly back yourself out of your kid’s life and let them work it out on their own.”

At that moment, the side door swung open and a barrage of kid sized arms and legs tumbled though, followed by an exhausted looking Krillin. “It’s starting to get cold out there,” he exclaimed, shutting the door behind him. The kids quickly disappeared into the living room, to undoubtedly rip into, and probably break, all of Onyx’s gifts from the party. Much to their dismay though, they had already been safely packed away by Amya, who was just walking into the kitchen as the kids rushed out. “They are going to be completely feral when that sugar wears off. Hey, you guys didn’t have to tidy up in here.” She smiled as she noticed that her kitchen was once again sparkling clean.

“It was no bother,” 18 said with a smile. She truly loved Amya, she was such a kind and compassionate person, she was reasonable and level headed and truly balanced out 17’s more impulsive tendencies. She was so glad they had found each other.

She watched Krillin as he moved through the kitchen, towards her. He planted a kiss on top of her head before taking a seat beside her at the table. She smiled at him in return and rested her hand on his thigh. The afternoon had been hectic, with all four adults being pulled in different directions, supervising kids, cooking food, running party games, taking pictures, making sure no one ate anything they were allergic to, or tried to drink water from the dog bowls. 18 had hardly seen her husband all afternoon and she quickly realised she’d missed him.

Once upon a time, a moment like this would be seemed all but impossible to 18. She looked across at 17 and saw her thoughts mirrored back in his eyes. He was content and happy and soaking in every detail. He caught 18 looking at him and shared a smile back, he knew they were thinking the same thing.

While the big, grand gestures of life were amazing, it was the inconspicuous little moments that meant the most to them. Cosy afternoons in with family. Quiet conversations about nothing. A passing smile or I love you. This was one of those moments, unassuming and meek, but something they had both fought so hard to obtain. A swell of emotion rose up into 18’s throat and for a moment she almost felt overwhelmed with warmth and happiness. She was truly grateful to be alive to experience this moment, this completely normal, utterly mundane, human moment.

---

Should I upload this to the prompt collection or nah? Does it fit the feel of it? I’d love to know what you think, cause I’m human and a sucker for reviews!

Hope you liked this one guys, likes, comments, shares as always, are greatly appreciated.

What should I write next?? Lemme know!!

#Android 18 #android 17 #Android Eighteen #android seventeen #juuhachigou #Juunanagou #dragonball z #dbz #dragonball super #dragon ball super #dbs #krillin #marron #kuririn #fanfiction #fanfic #dbz fanfic #writing #deadlybeautyfanfiction

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thanksjro · 5 years

Text

Eugenesis, an Overview: Let Me Get Weirdly Serious About This Book For A Sec

HOLY SHIT WHAT A RIDE.

So, let’s recap what we’ve learned over the last 282 pages.

In 2001, James Roberts published nearly 300 pages of fictional prose, based in the established franchise of Transformers, specifically the Marvel UK comic continuity. This novel tells the story of the Transformers, in their dwindling numbers, being attacked, not by their opposing factions, but by an outside force hellbent on revenge. Those who are captured by this force- the Quintessons- are stripped of their very individuality, forced into servitude until the moment they die of exhaustion. Everyone is pushed to- and in some cases beyond- their limits, the horrors of a literal genocide beating down on them like a tidal wave. Only by casting aside their differences and banding together can they hope to survive the nightmare that is the Eugenesis Wars.

But people don’t really talk about all that, even though it’s a majority of what the book’s about. No, people only talk about what happens after the Quintessons are defeated. People only talk about the robots getting pregnant, because honestly it is the most bizarre thing.

Not because the idea itself is terribly odd- I mean, at least it’s in line with the lore the comics set up. It’s bizarre in how we get to that point. All the torture, all the suicide and death and depression and destruction of entire belief systems, leads up to these robots getting pregnant. Almost like that was the whole point. And considering that this story is presenting to us a bridge for the gap between the classic Transformers and the Beast-Era ones, it could have very well been.

I won’t say fetish, because that doesn’t feel quite right, but our dear author seems to have a sort of… obscene fascination with the concept of mechpreg. A fascination that will carry on well into his career as a professional comic scriptwriter, setting readers on edge for the duration of his run with IDW.

Comparing Eugenesis to More Than Meets The Eye and Lost Light, you get an interesting view of Roberts’ growth, as both a writer and a human being. Eugenesis is the work of what Billy Joel might call an "angry young man”, focusing on the despair of wartime and the futility of one’s struggle against the flow of time and mortality. The theme of time only being perceived as linear, and being in actuality an unending plane where all moments are equal and eternal might seem oddly specific, but it’s reflected upon by multiple characters within the story of Eugenesis. Perhaps this is why he has Brainstorm and Perceptor collectively and completely jack up time itself in the Elegant Chaos storyline.

Character moments sprinkled throughout the narrative give us a glimpse of the relationships that would be written later on- some of the most compelling scene writing happens between Quark and Rev-Tone, two original characters who have such a delightful dynamic between them, they very quickly became some of my favorites. You truly believe that they care so strongly for one another, they would do just about anything to keep the other safe. And they do, in a couple cases.

Then there’s all the death. There’s a lot of death in Eugenesis, and none of it is by way of natural causes- you’ve either got suicide, murder, or suicide-by-way-of-murder. You really see Roberts shine in these death scenes, both then and now, as he captures the utter, raw tranquility as one stares down their own demise, and on the other side of the coin, the complete annihilation of one’s very heart as someone they love is destroyed. It’s downright poetic how he handles these scenes.

Still, there is a difference in how the aftermath is handled. When someone dies in the MTMTE/LL run, there’s always meaning and purpose to it- nobody dies just to die, and those who are left behind are left at least something to comfort them.

A message of love.

The return of a friend.

A chance to keep living.

A chance to be a better person.

You don’t get that in Eugenesis. In most cases, there’s no salve for the wound, only more hurting. There’s no time to even mourn, as the fight rages on and on and on. Any happiness pulled from the narrative for the characters is laced with a bittersweet understanding that these folks probably aren’t going to make it, and they’re just as aware of that fact as the reader is.

And yet there’s something kind of beautiful about that, in a twisted sort of way.

Eugenesis is a sort of love letter to those dark thoughts hiding in our heads, those deeply scary intrusive visions of everything we care about being ripped away from us. It’s a book make up of catharsis, of hurting that begs for some sort of outlet. The characters in this story are lost, and scared, and hollowed out before the mass extinction even arrives, and are put through wringer after wringer, like some sort of distanced facsimile of self-harm.

Perhaps I’m reading a bit too into this, but with how intense things get, with self-insert characters no less, I can’t help but wonder if the James Roberts who was writing Eugenesis truly needed this outlet in more than just a creative sense.

Which isn’t to say that there aren’t issues with this novel just because it was a vessel for catharsis. Pacing can end up going so rapidly it feels as if you’re being pushed towards the edge of a cliff, then stutter to a halt to the point where continuing on feels like an absolute slog. But it always seems just as you’re about to put the thing down and give up, something completely thrilling, completely insane and powerful and profoundly attention-grabbing happens, pulling you right back in. If nothing else, this book demands one’s attention.

There are also some other, more interesting issues with Eugenesis. Issues I wasn’t really expecting to run into. To highlight one such issue, we’re going to play a game.

The game is called Guess That Character Design!

Hey Transformers fandom, got a new quandary for y’all to fight over. Forget the Frenzy/Rumble color debate, forget the Bombshell/Skywarp is Cyclonus debate, it’s time for the What The Actual Everloving Fuck Is Quark Supposed To Look Like debate! Do we follow the comic and its script, which show him as being either about on par with Rev-Tone and Mirage or taller, but fails to note any sort of color because it’s in black-and-white? Or do we follow the novel, which states he’s short exactly once, and crimson? And if he’s red, where did the blue paint chips come from in Part Five? They sure didn’t come from Rev-Tone, who I know is mostly red- not because the novel told me, but because I’ve seen art of him outside of this. Honestly, other than him having big honkin’ shoulders and a bust to match, nothing about Quark’s visual aesthetic is concrete.

Now, I could tell you all about his quirks and mannerisms, how he holds himself, how he talks, how he interacts with others, all sorts of stuff. Nothing wrong with the writing there, characterization’s great! I just couldn’t tell you for the life of me how his body is supposed to look. Rev-Tone’s in the same boat, except it’d be even worse without the helpful input of some friends. Did you know he has a visor? Because I sure as shit didn’t until someone showed me. It’s never mentioned in the book. You can barely see it in the prequel comic art if you’re looking for it, and the script is less than helpful to me because I’m not Matt friggin’ Dallas, nor have I had the pleasure of reading Transtrip. All the information presented in the novel about his looks involves his mouth.

Hell, some of the writing in Eugenesis seems to imply that he actually just has normal eyeballs.

What I’m getting at here is that Roberts leans a bit too much on the reader knowing exactly as much as he does about the characters, the plot points, the lore. And he knows A LOT about Transformers.

This book essentially requires the reader to have the wiki open with multiple tabs at all times. Roberts put his heart and soul into the prose, but the world-building had his nerdy little brains smeared all over it, because there are some obscure references in here, not to mention the sci-fi jargon. You basically NEED an internet connection to get through this- I’ve never read a novel that pretty much forbid an acoustic reading, but here it is, in all its glory.

Eugenesis is a dark, morbid, conflicted story with the oddest little bright spots in it. Within five pages, you’ll go from some of the most horridly bleak death scenes to someone accidentally burning a hole in their hand like a cartoon character. But never once, in nearly 300 pages, does it ever stop trying. It may not succeed in what it’s attempting 100% of the time, but goddamn does it go as hard as it can. This isn’t something that was done for money, or fame, or anything like that. Eugenesis is a passion project in the purest sense, and you can really feel it in the way it’s been crafted. For all the frustration it put me through, never once did I think “man, this guy just doesn’t care.” The ambition Roberts shows in the prose, in the world-building, in all the funny little moments that show just so much personality within the story, truly were harbingers for what was to come just a decade later.

Ambitious. Bleak. Brutal. Weird. Ultimately unforgettable. That’s James Roberts’ Eugenesis.

But let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we? The one question that truly matters for any novel: is it worth reading?

Well, that depends.

If you had a hard time with the darker parts of MTMTE/LL, I really couldn’t recommend that you read Eugenesis. You will have an awful time, because most of it is Grindcore x100 levels of depressing and brutal. There were a couple points where I had to take a break because things got so intense- and I’m not exactly squeamish. Maybe stick to a breakdown- like this one!- or try a group read-along. Friends make everything better, after all.

If you like Roberts work and want to see where he came from, like I did, I highly recommend you find a copy- digital of course, there are only a few hundred physical copies in existence. I recommend you find the 2nd edition, which includes Telefunken and fixes some of the more glaring continuity mistakes and typos.

It’s a good read. Just... it’s a lot at times.

Like, a lot.

Up next-

Oh, what? You didn’t think that was it, did you? This url is way too sweet to just be done with so soon.

Next, I’ll be taking a gander at Children of a Lesser Matrix, which is something that was never finished by Roberts, but is still floating around the internet because hey! It’s the internet.

If anyone has any other somewhat obscure writings from JRo, feel free to send them my way. Especially if you have any of the TMUK zines from back in the day. I wish to consume all the works.

#transformers #jro #eugenesis #recap #maccadam #Hannzreads #incoming analysis #overthinking about robots #text post #long post

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trashyswitch · 4 years

Text

The Evil little Cheater

Roman and Remus were having a sword fight. But, Remus keeps cheating by using animals to annoy him! In a revengeful attack, Roman uses a special kind of weakness to his advantage, using a tiny chipmunk with a familiar name...

"Oh, I LOVE, being given 2 D[rama]'s at once!"

XD So sorry! (Not sorry! ;P)

This fic was based off a roleplay I did with a few friends.

Roman and Remus were currently having a sword fight around the house. How the sword fight started? They're sword-wielding brothers...Does the origin really matter?

Virgil and Deceit were currently watching the sword fight take place on the couch. The sword fight was going well...But, it could've been better! Because to no one's surprise: Remus may or may not have been cheating...Just a little bit...

Roman, along with the audience in the room, could very much tell it was Remus doing the cheating. They were able to expect it at this point, and could only sometimes put a stop to it...He was just too evil of a Duke to throw away an opportunity to cheat!

Deceit was just watching, eating a bag of popcorn. "They're going to tear each other into pieces...This is gonna be fun!" Deceit declared. Virgil was also watching, making sure no one got deathly hurt during the fight.

"REMUS, I SWEAR TO GOD- STOP CHEATING!" Roman shouted at him.

"I don't know what your talking about." Remus denies. But, his attempts at lying are very obvious.

Virgil, who's watching this whole thing, is full-on biting his nails from anxiety. Roman pushed Remus’s sword blade away with his handle and backed up a bit.

Remus, feeling especially evil, summons a bee to fly around Roman's head, just to annoy him more. Roman's eyes narrowed as he watched the bee fly around him. Thank god it wasn't a wasp..."Oh, you fuckin’ asshole..." Roman mutters towards his brother. Remus snickers as Roman figures out how to handle the buzzing bee.

But much to Remus's surprise, Roman places the bee onto his shoulder and continues fighting. "You forget how good I am with animals." Roman says with a smug grin.

Oh shit...He DID forget about that! "Damn...too bad you aren't good with these guys:" He comments. Remus summons a swarm of rats, whom he has trained to be just as annoying as he is. They were all his little rat sons who he loved and cared for in his own way.

The swarm of rats began to run around his feet. Roman's eyes widened as around 20-30 plague-looking rats surrounded him. "EEP! HEY- OW! DO THESE THINGS BITE?!" Roman shouted, hoping and praying they didn't. Because WHO, IN THEIR RIGHT MIND, WOULD WANT THE PLAGUE IN 2020?!

"Only if they don’t like you." Remus winked.

Roman growled as he backed up, secretly scared of their unpredictable nature. Roman hugged his sword up to his chest as he looked down at the swarm of rats. “Okay...And knowing you, they automatically hate me...” Roman commented.

"Maybe just a little bit...but don’t worry! They don’t bite very hard..." he grins. The reality was: they don’t actually bite. The rats are just meant to freak Roman out, for the most part.

Virgil shakes his head, utterly disappointed by the cheating that was occurring right now. Deceit is just looking at the rats, both slightly nervous, but mostly intrigued by the use in such a circumstance.

Roman had started jumping around the rats, doing all he can to not step on them. After getting somewhat free from the swarm, Roman swung at Remus.

Virgil flinches, hoping and praying that no one got a blade in the face.

Remus ducked. "Ahaha! Bitch, ya missed!" Remus declares, placing his sword right on Roman's chest where the heart is. But, Roman had crossed his sword against it at the last second. Now, both swords were making a plus sign as they pushed against each other.

Deceit, who was interested beforehand, eventually began to get bored.

But right at the climax of the moment (Could be taken as a double meaning, I don't care...), Patton walks into the living room. His virgin eyeballs widen, as dad mode immediately takes over. "What is going on in here, kiddos?!" Patton yelled, concerned by the violent game.

Remus grins. "I have successfully killed my opponent. No offense your highness but you really need to step up your game." Remus explained.

But, Roman had a plan up his sleeve...literally. Roman used his magic and made a small chipmunk. The chipmunk crawled down Roman’s arm, and up Remus's arm under the sleeve. "Weaken the cheater, Alvin!" Roman cheered. Apparently, Roman had named his pet after the main chipmunk in Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Virgil giggles a little at the name reference. Patton put his hands on his hips and turned to the other two sides in the room. "What are they fighting about this time?" he asked.

Before anyone can reply, Roman shouts, "IT'S A SWORD FIGHT, AND REMUS IS CHEATING!" rather loudly with a smile on his face. Patton looks back at the two creative personas and sighs. Of course...why would it be anything else?

Roman mentally tells the chipmunk to go crawling all over Remus’s middle and belly. The chipmunk understood his instructions and crawled himself up to the belly. Remus tries to shake his arm so the chipmunk would get out without hurting it. "I WAS NOT CHEATING I WAS JUST SLIGHTLY CHANGING THE RUHULES- WHAHAT THE HEHELL?!" he yells, falling into some giggles as he tries harder to get the chipmunk out of his costume.

"Keep going! Don’t stop crawling! You're a quick little guy! You can do it!" Roman cheered.

Patton raised an eyebrow "Heheh! Now you're just sounding like Logan there, Remus! because you just defined cheating." Patton mentioned.

Virgil smiles at the scene in front of him.

"Now...GO FOR THE KNEES!" Roman shouts excitedly, before pushing Remus’s sword away with his own.

"Gehet ihihit ouhut! WAHAIT NOHO DOHON'T YOUHU DAHAHARE!" Remus yelled as he stumbled back, trying to get it out. When the chipmunk got to his knees, Remus's eyes widen as he tries even harder to get it out.

"Good job, buddy!" Roman praises.

Deceit just stares in awe, unable to process the sword fight - turned tickle fight.

"Aww... hmmmm." Virgil thought aloud. He began to summon his spider and puts it carefully into Roman's outfit to crawl down his back.

Roman just squealed and giggled as he felt the fur-covered tarantula crawl all over his back. "AAahahahaha! Whahahat thehe-" Roman giggles.

Being the dad he is, Patton smiles as he watches the adorable scene.

"GEHEHET OHUHUT, YOU FUHUHURRY LIHITTLE SHIHIHIT!" Remus falls, unable to keep his balance before bending his knees off the ground so he didn't crush the damn chipmunk.

"Greheheat job! Yohou can cohohome ohout now." Roman tells the chipmunk through his giggles. The chipmunk follows his owner's instructions, and comes crawling out of Remus’s leg, and attempts to crawl to Roman. Roman gasps and holds his hand out. "Stop! The rats are still swarming me..." Roman warned. "I'm just gonna-" Roman said, before making the chipmunk disappear with his hand.

Suddenly, Roman begins to feel something else that's soft, crawling down his back. Roman jumps and giggles as he reaches down his back. "EEEP! Nohohow whahahat ihihis THAHAHAT?!" Roman asks, giggling more at the thought of two- TWO pets crawling down his back. The spider crawled itself over to his side, before heading over to his stomach.

"Youhuhure ahan ahahasshole!" Remus said before summoning the rats back to his room. Roman continued to reach behind his back and giggle.

"Now now, no cursing-" Patton now snapping out of his trance of adorableness.

"I'll curse if I wahant." Remus said, letting his last giggle slip.

"Ohoho, yohohou stahaharted ihihit byhy cheheheheatihing!" Roman shot back through his giggle fit.

Virgil giggled at the separate fights taking place, before calling the caterpillar back. "Come here, Silk." Virgil called. When the caterpillar was back, Virgil reached his hands out for his spider too. The spider crawled up the back and onto Roman's shoulder, before crawling down Roman's hand to Virgil's hand.

Roman's eyes widened. He paused his giggling. "S-SILK?! Thahat was YOURS?!" Roman yelled, pointing at Virgil.

Virgil nodded. "Mhm! It was only fair!" he commented. Patton sighed again.

"But Virgil! He started it with the damn rats!" Roman argued.

"Eh. I just wanted a turn." Virgil replied.

"If you wanted a turn, you could’ve come down here." Roman argued further.

Remus protested, interrupting the conversation. "Hey my rats didn’t climb on you, you fucking dunce." Remus whispers.

"Newsflash, buttface: no one was asking for your opinion." Roman whispered back.

Virgil giggles, at the twins' quiet fighting. "What are you going to do about it?" Virgil asked, answering Roman's last question before Remus interrupted them.

Roman smirked and made his new, trusty chipmunk appear in his hand. This time, with a red shirt that said 'Alvin' against its back. "Hi Alvin! There's an emo that would like to meet you!" Roman whispered in a baby voice as he walked over to the couch. "This is Virgil! And boy, oh boy, is he in need of some love!" Roman hinted.

Virgil's smirk fell as the feeling of impending doom began to fill his body. "R-Roman-" Virgil warned. Deceit giggles at Roman's idea, while petting his pet snake.

The chipmunk stood up on its hind legs and smelled the emo, before crawling onto the couch and right into one of Virgil’s pant rips. Virgil squealed at the tiny tickly claws crawling around on his bare skin. Remembering the last routine Roman had made, Alvin crawled up to Virgil's belly and began crawling around on it. Not only was Alvin crawling around on his belly, Alvin was also sniffing his belly at the same time! All of this, caused Virgil to start squealing and laughing again.

"Dohohohon't snihihihihihiff!" Virgil begged, doing all he can to not curl in and squish the poor chipmunk. The sniffing was especially getting to Virgil because Alvin the Chipmunk was using his soft little whiskers to better learn about the belly he was on. Deceit chuckled in reaction, while Patton watched beside him.

"Ooh, keep going Alvin. What does his belly feel like? Is it warm from all the layers? Is he hiding a really cuddly belly?" Roman asked out loud.

The truth was: Virgil's skin was extremely soft! but, no one will ever need to know. "EEE! gehehehet him ouhouhouhouhout! Rohohohohomahahahan!" Virgil begged.

"Nah. You seem to be enjoying this!" Roman cooed back.

Virgil covered up his embarrassed, blushy face. He was NOT! This was not enjoyable! This was tickly, and strange, and revengeful, and-...okay, it was a little enjoyable...well, maaaaaybe it was A LOT enjoyable. But no one needed to know that! He had a reputation to uphold!

Meanwhile, Patton was just squealing excitedly and smiling widely. "Hahaha! this is just so adorable!" Patton squealed.

Now THAT was uncalled for! "Nohohot cuhuhuhute!" Virgil argued, refusing to allow himself to be seen as cute.

"Ha! That sounds like a lie. Would I be right about that, Deceit?" Roman asked. Deceit nodded his head as he sat beside Roman's lee.

"Yeah, it is adorable kiddo!" Patton added.

Virgil's blush visibly deepened to a light scarlet color. "Nooooohoho!" Virgil groaned through his giggles.

Soon though, Roman decides to lessen the tickles. "Alright Alvin. You can slow down. Go ahead and have a little snuggle in there for a bit.” Roman encouraged. Alvin did what Roman said, and curled into Virgil's stomach. Virgil's laughs began to drop down to soft giggles as he began refilling his lungs. Roman giggled as he noticed Alvin curling further into Virgil’s tummy. “He seems to like you.” Roman said with a smile.

"Obviouhuslyhy..." Virgil added, still giggly from the ball of fur that was laying on his belly.

Patton walked closer to Virgil and ruffled Virgil's hair. "You can't deny how cute this is, y'know" he said with a smile.

"Nuuuhu." Virgil replied, sticking his tongue out. Virgil still refused to let anyone call him cute, and that may never change.

Deceit slowly made his way to the exit, believing that his presence there was no longer needed. He walked himself to his room and closed his door behind him. Remus and Patton began to leave as well. Patton began rambling on and on about how cute Virgil and Roman were, while Remus attempted to listen, low key praying that Patton wouldn't mention his own tickle attack.

Virgil and Roman stayed together on the couch, admiring his chipmunk as he slept on Virgil's belly. While admiring the cute little creature, Roman couldn't help but give Virgil little tickles here and there on his belly. It was just too cute to handle. Not only that, but Roman discovered something incredible:

Virgil has a SUPER soft belly!

No wonder Alvin loved sleeping on him!

#ticklefic #sword fights #lee!remus #switch!virgil #switch!roman

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discotreque · 5 years

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Picard 1.10: Et in Arcadia Ego, Part 2

I don't really do predictions or theories when I'm watching something. Partly because I prefer to go along for the ride while it's happening and wait to judge with the benefit of hindsight, but mainly because I'm very bad at it.

Anyway, let's discuss Episode 10 of Picard, in which a bunch of things happen that I would have sworn up and down were never going to happen, and a bunch of things I thought would for sure happen did not.

Spoilers for the season finale:

I think I feel about Picard S1 the same way I feel about Discovery so far: I like every single thing about it more than the writing. The casting is great, the actors are pretty much all superb, I'm horny as hell for the production design, the VFX are the best I've ever seen on television, I absolutely love Jeff Russo's music...

...and the scripts are, you know, fine. Mostly fine. Moments of excellence, no doubt, especially at the level of individual lines and scenes, but overall? New TV Trek has yet to pull off a complete season-story that really impressed me. (I have reasons for extremely high hopes re: Disco S3, but I will save them for another post.)

With all of that said: I didn't come here for the writing. I wanted to spend time with my old friend Jean-Luc Picard at the end of the 24th century, and I got it. The rest is gravy. Not, like, the awesome gravy my sister makes at Thanksgiving; decent B+ restaurant gravy. I'm still gonna dip my fries in it.

"To say you have no choice is a failure of imagination." The first great Picard line of the episode, but not the last.

Blah blah Romulan incest siblings blah blah blah. They couldn't have mentioned sooner that Narek was the family fuck-up or whatever? He would have been like 6% less boring.

Raffi and Rios constantly, lovingly dunking on each other is one of my favourite dynamics on this show.

Okay I was just joking last week about Saga's whole brain being in her eyeball but the fact that the damage to her eye fucked up her memories...

Why are they sitting outside the ship having a campfire? Isn't the ship basically fine? Why not hang out inside?

"The Thousand Days of Pain" is the name of my metal band.

Agnes using Saga's ripped-out eye to bypass the scanner had big Minority Report energy. Thank god she didn't have to chase it down a ramp while it rolled away from her.

"The way that children learn most things: by example."

RSVP Sutra, the only interestingly-written villain in this entire season. Tamlyn Tomita is super duper watchable as Commodore Oh/General Nedar (and looking fiiiine in that black uniform), but she has no personality or motivation beyond "grr, robots bad." Sutra lives in a society that's mostly twins, but her twin sister was fucking murdered. Obviously I don't agree with her actions, but I understood and cared about her motivations, which is more than I can say for any of the Romulans.

All those exterior shots of La Sirena wobbling through space with Picard at the helm were adorable.

We literally never see Narek again after the androids take him away. I hope they just threw him in a dumpster. Bye bitch.

Seven didn't do a ton of hand-to-hand combat on VOY, and she sure didn't fight like this. Jeri Ryan moves like she's heavy, like her bones are made of metal, like she's still full of dense Borg technology. She practically lumbers around, using her limbs like clubs; Peyton List bounces off her like she's hitting a solid steel wall. It's excellent choreography and so well executed by both women (and presumably their stunt doubles).

GET FUCKED, RIZZO. You were barely interesting enough to hate, but I did hate you.

"'The Picard Maneuver.' Wait, that's actually a thing, isn't it?" Ell oh ell.

Loved the way the Romulan ships' disruptors sizzled and crackled when they were powering up.

What was wrong with Planetary Sterilization Patterns 1 through 4?

That motherfucking fanfare when the Starfleet ships came in. Awwww yeah.

ACTING CAPTAIN WILL RIKER. Still kinda wish it had been Worf on the Entrepreneur, though, because I'm greedy: we already saw Riker!

I do have my problems with the writing, but I loved the way they resolved the three-way standoff between the Romulans, Starfleet, and the ch'khalagu: not with an epic space battle, but with diplomacy and self-sacrifice and trust in the essential goodness of each other. (Plus, I guess, the threat of an epic space battle.) It was so perfectly TNG in so many ways.

All the Riker stuff was so fan-servicey. Which I'm mostly fine with: I'm a fan, after all, and I like to be serviced from time to time. But it felt a little like one slice too many of chocolate cake.

I wish the tips of the tentacles had got cut off when the portal closed. That would have been cooler, right?

What can I say about watching Jean-Luc Picard die. He's been my captain for 30 years. I physically fucking felt it. And making an android copy of him, while awesome, did not really diminish the emotional impact.

On a lighter note, I need to know what Jeri and Santiago were actually drinking in that scene, because it straight-up looked like soap. Yuck.

I also really like the dynamic between Rios and Seven. They both act a little harder than they are, and I think they see through each other's acts, but there's enough mutual respect (and self-interest) there to let each other get away with it. And no romantic tension whatsoever. Delightful.

I want to hug all of them so much :(

The blank grey surface of everything in the simulation was very creepy.

Oh Data. Oh, Data. My heart was already aching and then...

Listen. Like a fucking idiot, I went and saw Nemesis on opening night. I don't even remember what I was expecting, but I do remember walking out of the theatre with my friend and agreeing never to speak of it again. Data died, but the movie was so shitty I could barely feel anything about it. This episode gave me the emotional closure I've been waiting for since December 13, 2002.

It's also, if you think about it, a pretty hilarious "fuck you" to Nemesis in general: "You guys did such a bad job of killing Data we had to bring him back to life just so we could kill him properly."

They've been slightly aging-up Patrick Stewart all season. I stopped noticing it after a while, so seeing him without it at the end was quite a shock.

"You... you haven't made me immortal?!" "Relax, man. Everyone was paying attention." Okay, Altan can stay.

Speaking of ol’ A.I., can't he just make another golem for himself? Was there something unique about the one they put Picard in?

I thought I recognized the voice of the woman singing "Blue Skies" on my first watch, but I couldn't place her. Turns out that was Isa Briones herself, which meant I cried even harder the second time through.

"And our little life is rounded with a sleep." Goodbye, Data.

Seven and Raffi???????

SEVEN AND RAFFI?????????????

And once again, Jeff Russo ends the season with a mash-up of the old theme and the new one. Give my man another Emmy! Give him two!

God damn. What a ride. Let me climb into my clown shoes for one last shitty prediction. I think next season is going to be what I wanted from this season: Picard and his motley crew of rogues bopping around the galaxy having roguish adventures. Fingers crossed!

And thanks for reading. Star Trek is always more fun with friends.

#star trek picard #star trek picard spoilers #picard spoilers #amy's episode notes

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adoubleshotdepresso · 4 years

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And so it began.

I saw the light, and decided to be born. Not really, but I assume that’s how it goes.

hi, hello, my name is Em. There’s a few more letters to the name, but all my friends call me Em, so I thought it was appropriate to introduce myself as that, to you, the reader, whoever you are and wherever the hell you may be.

I was born in 1993, in Busan, South Korea. And that’s basically all I know regarding where I’m from. I was put up for adoption, and my parents adopted me when I was 12 weeks old. I don’t really have much to say about my time abroad, mostly because I was an infant and don’t remember, but also because it doesn’t make me who I am, and has not had any influence on who I am today.

So, adoption hey. You’d be surprised how many people you know are actually adopted. I know a handful myself, and I think it’s a pretty amazing thing. The first question I always come across is; “Do you think you’ll ever want to go back?” And “do you miss or want to find your biological parents?”. And look, depending on the day and how I’m feeling, the answers may vary. Slightly. But realistically, the answer is absolutely not. I have the best family anyone could ever imagine, and my parents are my best friends. I have an older sister who was also adopted from South Korea, Seoul. She’s 6 years my senior and is also one of my best friends.

My family is tight, yo. And we’ve always been that way. My mum is the most dedicated person you will ever meet. She puts her heart and soul into absolutely everything she does. I might be completely biased here, but I’ve never met someone who loves her family so fiercely and would do absolutely everything possible to make sure we are happy and well. She’s always the first person I call when I feel myself go under. She’s a pretty great woman. I know I can always count on her to be there for me and my family no matter what, and one day I hope to repay everything she’s given to me.

I’m so lucky to have a father like mine. He has always supported my decisions and even though some of them have been dumb, he’s never judged me for them. I mean, I get the whole “I told you so” every now and then, but that’s understandable. When I first started having issues with my mental health, dad didn’t really understand what I was going through, as he never really grew up with it nor had any involvement in the area either. But as I got older he really made an effort to understand me more, and ended up being my biggest support beam in my adult life. He’s the sort of person who tells you “I’m just a message away” and actually means it. At my lowest times, it’s nice to know he’s always got my back.

I have one sibling, my oldest sister, who is YOU GUESSED IT, one of my best friends. Our relationship has not always been easy, and there have been times when we wanted to rip each others eyeballs out, but now we’re both a bit older and understand each other better, we couldn’t be closer than we are now. She moved overseas for a while, met the love of her life and married him while still living in America. I went over there a couple of times to visit her, and to be a part of her special day, She’s been back home for a couple of years now, and though we don’t see each other frequently, I know I can talk to her about my struggles too. She’s had her fair share of mental problems, and she still gets through every day, and for that, she’s my god damn hero.

Now we’ve gotten the introductions out of the way, lets get into it. My childhood was pretty normal to be honest. My parents both had stable jobs, weren’t addicts or assholes whatsoever, so we always had food, hot water and a sweet bed to sleep in. Between my parents and their parents, we always had somewhere to go and never had to use babysitters or after school care, which is pretty extraordinary.

Primary school was whatever. And that’s about it. Girls are assholes, and boys were the most fascinating thing in the world. It was average, nothing that bad happened, and nothing spectacular happened either. But shit got real when high school started. For the first year of high school I attended a fancy private all girls here in town, and that was honestly the worst. Not the worst of my life, but for “back then” Em, it was pretty damn bad. I dealt with the usually bullying thing, and I think that’s when all my problems started. Which is kind of crazy because I was probably only about 13 years old when I started to develop depression and anxiety disorders.

Not only did I lose trust in my “friends and peers”, I also lost faith in the teachers and the other adults who were supposed to be there for their students, and to protect them while on school grounds. Well, what a load of shit that was. After holding out for a year, my parents finally agreed I needed to move schools. I was accepted into another private school, but this time it was a co-ed school, and much smaller in size. All in all, it was a pretty good school, but unfortunately I was a very had teenager to please, and hated every single second I had to be there

I started skipping school, chucking sickies every week and avoiding homework, study and assignments. I found it very hard to concentrate, and because of the first year of high school education for myself was an absolute damn nightmare, I had zero interest in my education. I started smoking cigarettes and nicotine at some point in this time, and found it hilarious to drink until I vomited on myself. Looking back now, I should have realised it was something more than adolescent behaviour problems, but what kid goes, “wow, I’m extra cranky today, I must have clinical depression!”. So I kept on being an asshole to everyone around me, not caring about my studies and doing whatever the heck I wanted to do, which included going to parties, seeing boys and lying to my parents. I would tell them I’d be staying with a friend, but lets be real, I was really at a party, getting hammered and kissing lots of boys.

So, high school eventually came to an end. It felt like it was going for an eternity, but I look back now and I wonder where the time had gone. And I think that’s when I realised I was having some real mental health problems. I had a full time job at a chemist, and stayed there for many years, 10 to be exact. I loved my job for a very long time, and stayed there up until a couple of years ago. I don’t think it helped my mental stability, and close to where I resigned, I felt myself crying and having panic attacks in the back room of my work place. I wanted to call in sick every day, rather than go into work and have to face customers and certain staff. I wouldn’t blame work for what happened to me in the end, but I’m sure it didn’t really help either.

That brings us the last few years of my life. And did SHIT GET REAL, my friend. I’ve had the worst days of my life, but have also experienced some of the best. Some of the worst you say? How much time do you have? There’s been a few doozies, that’s for sure. I was in a relationship that started off beautiful, but ended up being the absolute downfall of my mental stability. So many things contributed to my depression, but I dare say the break up, and the loss of my grandmother definitely was the icing on the cake.

I’m not going to point fingers and blame someone else for what happened, but okay I am. The break up I experienced was enough for me to want to die. Literally. My grandma who I was very close with was dying, and my ex didn’t really care. We used to fight all the time, even at the beginning of our relationship, but it only got worse. And even evenB when I thought it wouldn’t get worse, it definitely did. I started drinking a lot, and abusing prescription medication, Valium mostly, but also some sleeping medication too. One day, I was feeling very low, and begged my ex to come back home. I told him every 10 minutes he didn’t respond to my calls or text, I’d take another pill. And I did. I also felt like it was necessary to extinguish cigarettes on myself. The physical pains of the burn was a welcoming distraction to the storm raging inside my head.

After that, it was all a blur. I overdosed a couple of times, some I was able to manage myself, but two more times to come I would need medical attention. The first time I was hospitalised, I called a bunch of friends for help because I thought I was about to die. I don’t remember making the call, and I hardly remember leaving my home in ambulance. Once I gained consciousness again, I was forced to go see a therapist even when I declined. And let’s just say, therapy is not my thing. I have tried again and again to go, and to find that connection with a therapist but never really got remotely close enough to ever trusting one.

The last few years have definitely had its up and downs. I bought a house a few years ago, the house my grandparents owned when I was growing up, and not long after I moved in, I met my parter. I had known him for a couple of years before we started seeing each other, and not long after that, I asked him to move in. It was only a few months into our relationship, but it felt right. You know when you know and I can’t really explain much more than that.

I’m not going to sit here and lie to you and say everything gets easier when you’re older, and your problems you experienced before seem to fade away, I’m here to tell you the truth what it’s like to live with a severe depressive and anxiety disorder. Not every day is easy, and sometimes, the bad days feel like they’re never going to end. It’s easy for some people to hop online, and talk about how easy it was to get out of their own heads, and all you have to do is look on the bright side of life.

Because no. It’s never as golden as what influencers try and tell you, and it’s definitely not as glamorous as you see and read online. Some of the worst days I have experienced have made me feel like there is no possible way out. So, hold onto your seatbelts, and grab your Kleenex, because shit is about to get real.

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