#me: is it normal to have numbness randomly in random spots for no reason

[jxmieclayton]

the funny thing abt my issues w my hand/wrist/arm is two surgeries later and nearly 3 years now since my last one and I still have issues obviously and sometimes I ask my surgeon “hey is this normal” and she’s just like “yeah whatevs” and sometimes I ask “hey is this normal” and she goes “ummm I’m booked the next 3-5 months but tell reception I said to squeeze you in immediately actually”

[fandom-necromancer]

I want to tell the world I love you

This was prompted by a wonderful anon! Enjoy! It is very angst but it has a happy ending, don’t worry!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: Overprotectiveness, panic attack, internalised homophobia (+struggle to overcome it))

It was a slow day at the precinct and Gavin hated it. Sure it was nice not having to work every single second of your shift and still leave something for the next day, but the opposite wasn’t that nice either. He spent his day resisting the temptation to play on his phone, looked over his reports to find errors or change a sentence to better convey the message. He filed the pictures he had taken for evidence. He watered the lone cactus on his desk. He got himself a coffee. He watched Nines, who caught his drift and smiled back. That had made it a bit better, but still frustration and boredom settled in. He just wanted something to do or go home and the more he looked around the precinct aimlessly, the more random things annoyed him. The way he could hear Chris’ nose whistle barely audible, but being unable to not focus on that now that he caught on. The way Tina brushed through her hair the fifth time in a minute. The ringing of somebodies telephone for at least two rings too many… Gavin knew it himself, this was one of the days he would randomly explode on people again. And that made him even angrier. ‘Phhhck’, he sighed silently to himself and massaged his temples trying to force himself to relax. But the tension stayed and the frustration continued to nibble at him and he was seconds away from screaming at someone, something, anything to make it stop and have something to work on.

And apparently the universe had decided to throw Connor his way. Gavin looked up if only in the hope that the change would mean the bot got something for them, but the RK800 didn’t even look at him walking straight up to Nines and banging his hands on his table. Nines looked at them, then at Connor and turned in his rolling chair. ‘Is it true?’, Connor asked. Nines looked at him questioning. That one sleek brow lifted over stern eyes. ‘You’, Connor jerked his head in Gavin’s general direction. ‘and him?’ ‘What?’ Nines was now sitting ram-rod straight, glancing over to Gavin, who had simply froze for lack of better word. ‘Err… What do you mean? Con, I-‘ But Connor wasn’t taking it, stepping beside the table and grabbing Nines wrist, pulling his hand from the keyboard in the process. Gavin reeled back as he saw Nines’ LED dip to red and stay there while his skin was pushed away from where Connor’s hand connected.

A forced interface. Gavin knew what he was seeing, Nines had done this a few times with unresponsive androids. The way the other’s skin didn’t retract but was forcefully shoved aside. This… This wasn’t right, Connor had no right to do this and Nines wouldn’t allow him- ‘So it is true!’ Seldomly had Connor been this loud or angry. ‘You and this wretched human! This robophobic piece of shit, who held me at gunpoint twice and punched me on the first day? Really? Did you forget how he treated you? Did you?’ ‘Connor, I-‘ ‘What are you two doing, hmm?’ Connor leaned forwards and his grip on Nines was like a vice. His face went blank. ‘So you two are already fucking? Nines, I can’t believe it. How on earth could you let him use you like that? Do you think he loves you? Nines, he is playing with you, can’t you see that? There is no way someone like him will ever change and you should really know better than-‘ Nines didn’t allow him to speak any further. His free hand slapped on top of Connor’s and closed around his hull strong enough to indent it with an ugly crunch. ‘Don’t you dare say that’, he hissed. ‘Don’t you dare say that if you know nothing about us. When was the last time you two spoke a word with each other? When was the last time you re-evaluated your picture of Gav-‘

Right. Gavin. Gavin, who had told him to keep their relationship a secret at all costs. Gavin who had only recently had started showing his emotions, who had taken more than one night spent talking that it was okay to be friends, that it was okay to be more than friends even, that loving a man wasn’t wrong like his family had taught him, that Nines would be there for him and that a slow pace was fine, that… That it was completely fine if their relationship stayed at home, that they didn’t openly show affection and that both of them feeling safe and comfortable was more important than all expectations.

Nines let go of Connor, his priorities changing to see if his partner was alright. But Gavin’s chair was empty. His jacket was hanging over the back of his seat, that had turned as if left in a quick escape. The keys to his bike were gone from their usual spot and Nines didn’t need more information than that to leave his predecessor – because brother really didn’t fit right now – behind and go after his human.

He managed to intercept him on his way out of the parking lot. ‘Gavin!’, he called out. ‘Gavin, please!’ And the man stopped. The engine was still running, gently chugging along without a care in the world, making Nines all the more desperate. ‘Nines.’ His eyes were still wide and unfocussed, it would be irresponsible for Nines to let him drive, but it would be even more detrimental to make him stay. ‘Nines, I-I-I… I can’t.’ His breath was quick and irregular, barely enough to sustain him. He must feel like suffocating right now. ‘Gavin, I didn’t want to. He forced it. I. I would never tell anyone. I promised you!’ ‘I know’, Gavin breathed out, his voice nearly drowned out by the engine sounds. ‘I know and I… I trust you still but… I can’t. I can’t take it. I shouldn’t want it, it’s wrong and I… Con is right and…’ ‘Breathe’, Nines said calmly despite his own stress. Gavin needed him. And he breathed. ‘We can’t be together’, unfortunately were the next words that left his mouth as he had enough air again to talk. ‘We just can’t. I can’t. I want but I… It’s better that way.’ It is not, Nines wanted to say but didn’t. ‘I love you’, was what he said instead, disappointed, knowing it wouldn’t change anything. ‘I know.’ There were the tears. ‘I… I love you, too. But I can’t. I… You shouldn’t have to wait for me, you deserve someone nice, someone less broken and wrong and-‘ ‘Gavin!’ Nines couldn’t help but make him stop. He wouldn’t let him say it. ‘Gavin, you are perfect. You are. Please. Please, I beg you, stay and let’s talk!’ The man looked up at him out of swollen eyes and Nines would never be able to forget the way he looked at him, sad, grieving and worst of all believing everything he had said about himself.

And then he let the engine roar up and drive him away, leaving Nines standing alone in the parking lot.

-

He didn’t know how long he had stayed there. He just remembered eventually walking back inside the building, because really, there was no reason for him to stand there any longer, was there? It’s not like that motorcycle would reappear magically, that Gavin would come back and kiss him like he had so many times at home. Would they ever do that again? He didn’t dare to think such thoughts. No. Work. Work was what he needed. Something to keep him occupied, because if he had a free minute, he would think and thinking lead to ideas and Nines knew they wouldn’t be good at all. No, Nines couldn’t afford himself to be himself right now, else he would likely self-destruct on the spot. No, he went inside, ignored the looks and quiet questions, sat down at their – his - desk and interfaced with his terminal, concentrating on being RK900 only and digging up every unsolved case from their databanks.

The numbness was a blessing. Overworking his processors with wild pre-constructions that would ultimately lead to nothing left no room for Gavin. For his concerns whether he had made it home safely. For stray thoughts imagining him sitting at home alone, crying. Maybe drinking. Maybe worse. No, there were only murders and Red Ice and kidnappings and no end in sight. So, when Connor approached him and said something it took a while for the message to reach his systems. ‘/’m s0rry-.+’’#..||- I dIdn’t me@n t..-~ I c0uldn’t knw{-=-_.. I sh0uldn’t h@ve. I want t# apologise. Nines please listen to me.’ ‘I believe you said enough’, Nines spoke without intonation through heavy static. ‘Really, you can’t imagine-‘ His voicebox cut out and Nines laid all of his anger, sadness and fury into his stare while it restarted. ‘Don’t you dare talk to me like a simple apology could bring you absolution!’ With that he stormed off to the evidence room and locked himself in. This way there would be no further disturbances and he could again dive deep into the systems. Time didn’t matter, it’s not like he had anyone to go home to anymore. Their shift ended, the next had begun and Gavin had called in sick for the next day somewhere around 2 AM. Nines didn’t care. He simply pushed deeper, the clear orderly systems of the precinct a welcoming blanket to wrap his own chaos into.

-

Connor sat on the couch, mindlessly petting Sumo. He had never seen Nines like this. They had argued before. They had yelled at each other. It was normal. But this time something had changed. He had messed up badly. Even Hank ghosted him, telling him to set it right or not, but not to involve him in their fights as he would refuse to pick a side. He had just wanted to protect his brother! When he had overheard Nines and Hank talk about it, he had simply been concerned. He had only ever seen Gavin as the anti-android nuisance that couldn’t stay in his own lane. The arrogant man that only cared for his career. The guy without many friends because he never let anyone close enough to actually see beyond what was clearly your typical schoolyard bully grown up and misplaced in the police force. he didn’t want his brother to be pulled in for a prank. He hadn’t wanted his brother’s feelings to be run over by the truck that was human rottenness. He hadn’t – not even for a single moment – thought about the possibility that it was something genuine. That Nines really did love that man and that Gavin returned it. He hadn’t even taken into account it could be a chance. And he had hurt not only Nines’ feelings, but seemingly also ruined what had made them both happy. Some kind of brother he was… RA9, how could he set this right? He had to do something, it was his own fault, his doing alone. But how would he even begin? Nines didn’t let himself be talked to, Connor couldn’t even blame him for it. But Gavin… he couldn’t imagine the human to let him in, much less to actually listen or even consider his apology. But he had to do something and maybe even something as futile as this was better than doing nothing at all.

Statistically speaking there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place. He remembered thinking like this during the revolution. He prayed to whoever was listening that it would prove true another time as he knocked at the door. To his surprise the wood gave way at the impact and opened a fraction. The lock was broken, a footprint underneath telling him everything he needed to know. ‘Gavin?’, he asked as he tentatively opened the front door a little more and stepped in. ‘It’s me… Connor.’ He winced, bracing for the human to come running at him with something sharp. But his only response was a very weak, very drunken: ‘Phck off.’ So no threat at least. And he was a lot further down his plan as he had ever thought to come. ‘Gavin, I came to apologise. ‘Phhhhck oooff. Don wanna talk with ya plastic shit ass.’ ‘Very eloquently put’, Connor commented, before he could catch himself. He had made it to the kitchen, where Gavin sat next to the open fridge wrapped in Nines’ old Cyberlife jacket and multiple bottles – all of them empty, one of them shattered - to his side. ‘I sssay whatIwant, thisis my houssse.’ ‘I get it.’ Gavin blinked against the clearly too bright kitchen light and furrowed his brows in tired anger. ‘Get. Out.’ He prepared to throw the bottle in his hand at Connor, who quickly lifted his hands. ‘Hey, watch out, this one’s still full. I guess you wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good alcohol on me.’ He hadn’t known it would work, but it did, as Gavin looked at the bottle then to the empty stack next to him, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth the effort as he took another chug. ‘Fine. Whaddaya want?’

‘Apologise. It wasn’t my right to say that.’ ‘Yer damn right, asshole.’ ‘I didn’t believe you two really were in love.’ ‘Didn’t believe it either’, Gavin slurred. And as Connor didn’t respond, he continued. ‘I mean me? With a guy like him? God, I thought I was dreaming.’ ‘Really?’ Connor dared to sit down on the floor opposite of the man that had leaned back his head against the wall, smiling completely lovelorn. ‘Of course. I’m n asshole. I can’t keep friends. Think they don’t really like me, just pretend. Destroyed every single one so far. Forced myself to be with girls, y’know, thought that I’d learn with time. So then, Nines comes up and is perfect, feels perfect, cares and… Nah, didn’t believe it. Told him upfront he would get factory second. Y’know, like a decent man. Told him all my problems and stuff and he still stayed. Agreed to all. First time in my life someone heard that and stuck around.’ ‘And I messed it up?’ ‘Yeah. Big time.’

Connor shuffled uncomfortably. The open refrigerator made it far colder than it needed to be. ‘How can I repair the damage?’ ‘You can’t. You… You were the source but I… I panicked and broke up with him.’ ‘But maybe I could-‘ ‘No. I have to man up, go there and tell him I love him still. That I will phcking commit, that I’ll send my parents to hell and my childhood memories right with them. That this is me and only me and that I want him like my gay ass should. But I can’t. I am phcking drunk and that’s the only way I can say that without freezing or panicking or building up walls or-‘ ‘What if I drive you to the precinct right now?’ That seemed to be too much for Gavin’s inebriated brain and Connor waited for an answer. ‘Nines is still at work?’, he slurred, obviously confused. ‘Yes.’ ‘Yess… That’s… That’s a good idea… Just… Phck…’ Gavin made it surprisingly fast to his feet and to the kitchen sink before emptying his stomach into it. Connor was next to him in an instant, holding him upright and helping him clean up afterwards. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drive Gavin back to the precinct like this, but if this was the only way to right his mistakes, he would gladly do it. And besides, the night shift likely had seen worse already.

Gavin was still in Nines jacket as Connor helped him out of the car and guided him to the back entrance meant for supplies and smoke breaks. It wasn’t that far to the evidence rooms from there and Connor managed to get him inside without anyone really noticing. He tried to open the door to where Nines had locked himself in but was declined. ‘Go away Connor.’ The voice alone was what let Gavin next to him perk up and brace against the wall. ‘Nines? Nines, please, can you hear me? I love you. And I was an idiot, I panicked and I-‘ The door was ripped open in a heartbeat and there was Nines, catching Gavin by the shoulders and pressing him in a close hug. ‘Gavin!’ ‘I’m so sorry, I love you and I didn’t mean what I said, I panicked, and you know I say shitty things then, I need… I need you and I want you and phck everyone’s opinion, I am allowed to have you and I can do whatever the hell I want!’ ‘Yes’, Nines gently whispered. ‘Yes, of course. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told-‘ ‘No. Phck this! I want to tell everyone, and they will have to accept this shit! God pcking damnit!’ ‘Okay, but let’s wait with that until you are sober, okay? Come here.’ Nines drew gentle circles on his back and relished in the feeling of having his human – his – here in his arms and hold him and tell him he was safe and loved and cherished. He didn’t even know what he had murmured n the end of it, but it had made Gavin slump against him and fall half asleep in his arms. Nines decided then to retreat back into the evidence room. He did shoot Connor one last glance, grateful for bringing Gavin back to him, but also implying this would have repercussions as soon as their minds had settled.

Connor just swallowed, nodded and left them to it. He guessed he had deserved that.

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #1: That Night in Mykonos

[Heatwave // Godless] [Drabble Masterlist]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: That one not-so-forgotten filthy drunken night in Mykonos that you and Taehyung never speak about again. For good reason.

Genre: drabble, smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do it), beach sex, oral (m/f), taehyung’s tongue technology, dom!Tae, daddy kink, exhibitionism kink, facial (lol oop), cumplay, spanking, degradation if you count slapping your face with his dick, may make you fall in love with this couple even more soz

Word count: 6k (why am i incapable of making even a drabble short and quick?)

A/N: As per highly requested… :) If you’ve randomly stumbled upon this, definitely read Heatwave first to understand the plot.

.

The gentle washing of the waves sings a lullaby to your ears. You have always loved the sound of the ocean, so serene, yet holding so much power. Wiggling your toes, you watch the minute grains of sand trickle off your feet like a waterfall. Nonchalant, you take a swig of cider, its fruity acidity burning a bittersweet trail down your throat.

‘Man, I fucking love Mykonos.’ Taehyung slurs beside you, tipsy from his fourth bottle of beer he’s clutching like a trophy.

‘Thank you again for bringing me here, Taehyung.’

The two of you are sat on a towel by the beach, watching the moon paint its own reflection in the water. Sky crystal clear, as it is every single night here in Greece, the constellations hanging over your heads set a tranquil tone to the last evening of your trip.

‘Hey, what did I say? Stop thanking me. Now you have to finish your drink.’ Playfully, he flicks the tip of your nose in reprimand.

Grinning, you roll your eyes but follow his stupid rule. Not that you can’t hold your liquor, but this is your seventh drink, and you’re starting to feel it pulsating up to your head.

‘No, but you were right.’ Words tumble out of his pretty lips that you can’t help but admire. ‘It was a good call not to go out tonight. If we actually went hard at VOID, our flight tomorrow would be hell.’ He is referring to the club you have been religiously visiting almost every night this week. ‘This is much better. Nice and chill.’

With a mighty sigh, he falls onto his back, head hitting the edge of the towel, narrowly missing sand invasion in his hair. Rolling your empty bottle away, you join beside him.

‘This has to be the weirdest but also best holiday of my life.’ You ruminate. The stars are shining particularly bright tonight, you wonder if they know it’s your last night here and want to bid farewell.

The chesty chuckle Taehyung lets out reverberates into you. ‘Definitely the weirdest.’ He turns his head to face you. ‘I can’t believe I’m in Mykonos with this random chick I met in the club, who offered to rent me her place, so I guess she’s now my roommate, when this whole trip was planned to be a surprise for my girlfriend who had been cheating on me for months.’

Taehyung is especially chatty and vivacious when drunk, you’ve noticed from the past few days. Normally he’s laid back, spaced out even. But give him some booze, and all his emotions and thoughts cartwheel out of him. Though you’re only beginning to know him, he’s immensely interesting, you can tell he holds so many layers to him that requires inquisition over time.

‘Wow, random chick from the club? Bitch, you ripped out my hair.’ You laugh and smack at his chest, hand lingering for a little too long.

Wait, chest smack? Why are you using your classic move on him?

You’re a flirt, you can’t help it. The cider’s doing its thing, you guess.

‘Man, I’m so sorry about that, you have no idea how awful I felt.’ He inches closer to you until his head is rested upon your shoulder. Right, he’s also especially touchy when drunk. Anyone who walks past right now could mistaken you as close friends, when in reality, you’ve known each other no more than a month.

To be completely fair, you have spent everyday of this said month together since that club night, helping him move in and unpack, and now travelling together. You guess you’re kind of friends now.

‘These past few weeks have been so crazy. I was just trying to have a good night out when a wild Kim Taehyung appeared and somersaulted into my life. And now we’re lying by the Mediterrenean sea together, tanned and drunk.’ His hair is tickling your neck so you push it away. Your fingers brush against his forehead and he hums at the contact.

‘But hey, on a serious note, hand on heart,’ Taehyung gazes up at you, ‘I’m so glad I got to do this with you. You are one of the coolest people I know, and I wouldn’t have wanted to come here with anyone else. Not like I have anyone else right now… My ex can go fuck herself, or fuck Jimin. I have a bigger dick anyway.’

You sit up, choking on your laughter. Out of the blue, he’ll always hit you with these one-liners that are absolutely pure gold. ‘Okay, Mr. I’ve-Fucked-Nine-Girls-This-Week.’

Pride beaming from his smile, he tugs you back down beside him. ‘Hey, I was in a relationship for three years, I need this. Miss I-Had-A-Threesome-With-Two-Guys-On-Our-First-Night.’

The two of you splutter your drunken giggles. The two guys were Italian, come on, how could you have passed up on the opportunity?

Despite the time of evening, the breezes that gust pass are humid. The temperature is perfect, actually, no sun blazing down to melt you into puddles. You’re probably too drunk to appreciate this moment but one day you’ll look back at this night cherishingly, you hope.

‘You’re right. I’m glad I came with you, Taehyung.’ It’s your turn to look at him. ‘I’ll get such an earful from Lotta when I get back but it’s all worth it. I can’t believe we got away with half of the things that we did!’

‘I know right?’ His arm feels particularly warm against you. It may be the alcohol working its magic but his voice sounds so deep and mellow tonight, like dark chocolate dissolving in your mouth. ‘The way they upgraded our room to a premium when we pretended to be a couple on our honeymoon.’

The memory is fuzzy but fond in your inebriated mind. ‘You’re welcome. I’m a master bullshitter.’

‘We even got that couple’s spa treatment and free wine and dine night.’

To be completely honest, it wasn’t difficult pretending to be loved up newly-weds. A lot of that affection you were displaying towards Taehyung wasn’t fake; he’s this perfect specimen of a man, gorgeous face, toned body, captivating personality, quirky humour - anyone’s dream boyfriend, really. You’ve tried to tone your attraction to him down, you can’t be lusting over your new roommate after all. Things would get too messy. But it was just for fun anyway, there’s no harm in a few pretend embraces and neck kisses to get those couple’s perks.

You’re just friends.

Though a part of you envies the nine girls he’s slept with this holiday, because you’ve seen the outline of his bulge in his swim trunks and Holy Shit… But as much as you like to fuck around, there’s a clear line that separates roommates and guys you bang. Those are two mutually exclusive groups of people in your life, the Venn Diagram does not intersect.

‘Hey, you wanna go for one last swim?’ You’re pulled from your thoughts by Taehyung’s suggestion.

It’s a bad idea, swimming this late at night, having downed a few bottles. But when has your inner conscience ever stopped you from doing what you want?

‘’Course.’ He is already removing his shirt as he stands, and you can all but ogle at the muscle of his moonlit back as you reply.

Following his action, you turn away from him and peel off your shorts that have stuck to your skin from sitting for so long. Are you perhaps trying to tempt him with the view of your bent over ass? Hmm, possibly… He does pay an awful lot of attention to your rear every time you wear these shorts... Carelessly flinging your top onto the rest of your things, you spy him staring at you in your periphery, hands stuffed into his shorts pockets. You adjust the pad of your bikini top, perhaps more dramatic than you needed to.

A smirk plays at your mouth. Why are you trying to get his attention?

Feet sinking into the soft sand, you pad after him towards the calm beckoning water. Your head is feeling hazy from the ciders, and when you spot the lazy smile he’s wearing, you know it’s hitting him too. Gazing up at the moon, you realise you feel blue. Not blue in a sad melancholic sense. But blue as in cool, relaxed, heart-at-peace blue; you’re going for one last night swim in the most beautiful country with your handsome new roommate, blue. A hint of romantic lyricism. Maybe.

‘I’m really gonna mis- Taehyung!’ You screech into the quiet night when he all of a sudden picks you up and carries you bridal-style into the sea.

And tosses you into the water.

Arms flailing midair, you’re catapulted into the waves like a pebble. The cold hits your curled spine first, harsh and shocking. Then it detonates within you, a volcano of ice numbing all your senses and aching your bones.

When you find your bearings and gasp up for air, you see him, ocean up to his knees, head whipped back in laughter, clutching his tensing core, eyes pinched into crescents as the most warming sound leaves his mouth.

‘You piece of shit!’ You lunge for him, but your limbs feel heavy in the water, restricting the power of your attack that he dodges so effortlessly.

But you don’t give up so easily. Tide washing you towards him, you launch yourself again, saltine droplets splattering all over his face. Resigning, Taehyung lets you drag him by the hand away from the shore, waddling clumsily against the stubborn current that’s determined to push you back to the beach.

‘Dick and balls, it’s freezing.’ He heaves.

‘Wuss. You’re not the one who got dunked.’ The chill is licking at your skin, seeping into your hair that splays out in floating silk tendrils. You’ve stopped walking on the sand now, instead spreading onto your front and allowing your swimming arms and paddling legs to move you.

Water up to his chest, you see the goosebumps rise on his blue-bronze unsullied skin, star-freckled sea reflecting wavering diamond silhouettes onto his chiseled front. Following the defined protrusion of his salient collarbones, then the sleek inward curve of his neck, your gaze arrives at his face. His strong brow never fails to strike you; tongue loitering out between his folded lips; brown tufts of salt-kissed, breeze-licked hair a mess but a masterpiece still. Eyes painted with a warm summer glimmer, sapphire and still, he observes you from where he stands.

The fluttering in your heart is now indistinguishable from your shivering due to the wet cold.

‘Come on, let’s swim out a bit further.’ He nods to the open ocean, refusing to spare you from his pinning stare.

Body heavy from the alcohol, the cold and simply your lethargism, you dive below the surface. With your water-blurred vision, you swim after his slow walking legs, bubbles you release tickling your face. You grapple onto his ankle, hear his muffled yelp and stifle a mischievous giggle.

Launching off the sand bed, you lurch up to the surface, inhaling sharply at your first breath of air. You push your hair back to see Taehyung regard you with a mystical expression.

‘It’s too deep here,’ you whine, ‘I can’t touch the floor.’ Not particularly athletic, treading water in order to stay afloat is wearing you down.

‘Hold on to me then, midget.’ He chuckles and holds out his hand which you quickly grab onto. With the stability he provides, you pull yourself up his arm like a buoy line and perch your elbow on his shoulder.

Which draws you unexpectedly close to his face. Nose mere inches from his chin. You smell his familiar honey musk.

Unfazed by your proximity, his arm circles behind you before landing one your waist, the warmth of his touch blooming like flowers on your skin. Why does his hand feel so nice on you? Why can’t you stop staring at him?

‘Better?’ Vibrations of his throat hum into your core.

‘Thanks.’ Your poise on his shoulder is sliding so you snake your arm around his neck, hoisting your body up against his. The contact snaps a cord inside you, sensation of him tingling everywhere you touch.

‘You’re such a little princess.’ He rolls his eyes theatrically in feign mockery, but his smirk betrays his mirth.

‘Shut up, you love it.’ This playful banter weighs heavy in your chest, constricting it, winding it. Because if it were anybody else, it would be flirting... Or maybe you are flirting with him right now. You’re not sure anymore.

A droplet of water is trickling along the edge of his jaw, your focus is transfixed at its smooth descent to his chin. Your bodies are bobbing with the calm waves, up, down, up, down. Then your eyes lock and-

Fuck.

You want him.

You really fucking want him.

Right now.

Right here.

Taehyung’s glare sears a mark in you, and it’s burning like the flames of hell all the way down to your sex. With the side of his finger, he doesn’t need to so much as touch you to tip your head up his way because that’s how willing you are. One tilt, that’s all it takes to kiss him right now. His fingers are sinking into your tender waist, and immediately you wonder how they must feel inside you.

‘I do love it.’ He slides his cheek against yours and traces the bridge of your nose with the tip of his.

And then.

You taste the sea on his lips, salt and cold. It feels like diving into the ocean, plunging into the deep blue and simply allowing your body to be swept away. His kiss is greedy, hungry, willing you to submit to him and follow his lead. And in your intoxicated state, you do so.

Legs wrapping around his torso in the water, his hands caress up your thighs to your ass, digging into your plump flesh with an ardour that releases a damp arousal from your slit. Your own fingers grope down his chest and toy with his hair, scratching and tugging. When he nibbles on your bottom lip and you know that you’re done for. You melt like putty in his control, meeting his tongue with a soft obedience you don’t normally exert.

‘Taehyung.’ You gasp into his mouth.

‘I’m all yours tonight, baby.’ is all he says before diving back into you. Those words sends the possessive animal in your mind wild with satisfaction. Because yes, he better fucking be all yours tonight.

Kissing Taehyung feels different. Perhaps it’s because of the build up of tension you have been harbouring these past few days. Or maybe it’s the thrill of knowing that you shouldn’t be doing this, the thrill of doing the forbidden. Or rather, it’s the way he wields his dominance over you so ferally and fervently, like he’s been waiting for as long as you have to do this.

Kissing Taehyung is teeth and tongue.

Kissing Taehyung is salt and the midnight breeze.

Kissing Taehyung is blue. The kind of blue you see only in the hottest of flames.

When you feel his stiff length poke underneath you, your cunt is set ablaze with desire. Desire to sink down onto him this instant and have him pound into you amidst the ocean until you both feel faint. Desire for him to break you in half with all his might, make your eyes water with from the pleasure he stabs into you.

Slowly he begins to walk you back to the shore, gripping your legs around his waist as you lock your arms around his neck. Lips never leaving each other longer than a second to breathe.

His ravenous mouth travels down to your breasts, and he doesn’t hesitate to devour them from your bathing suit, suckling angry red marks down your cleavage and around your nipples. Though clothed, the prominence of his cock burrows between your wide open entrance, rubbing against your bikini-clad clit and making you thrust your hips further into him.

Feverish from his touch, you don’t realise you’re on land until he gently falls onto his knees and carefully places you on the towels below him. Too drunk to even care if anyone else is on the beach, not that there was before you got in the water, you pull him by the neck onto you.

As he kisses a torching trail down your wet body, your mind is somewhere else, in a heaven that worships Taehyung. Hands kneading your exposed breasts, the wisp of his breath tingles down your navel, tying a knot in your core. With his teeth, he obscenely tugs loose the string that ties your bikini bottom together. The fabric falls loose lifelessly, revealing your soaking cunt, shimmering with want for him.

‘So wet.’ He muses as he kisses your pelvic bone, finger stroking up your slick to gather the liquid of your arousal. Then he prods his finger into your mouth, your tongue compliantly lapping up your own taste, salty from the sea. ‘Who made you this wet?’

‘You.’ You’re practically pleading as he sucks viciously at your inner thigh, so close to your weeping pussy.

‘I want you to call me daddy.’

You stiffen under him. Daddy. He wants you to call him daddy. Oh, but of course Taehyung has a daddy kink. It’s so ridiculously characteristic now that he has revealed it, that if you aren’t drunk, you would be rolling your eyes and laughing.

‘Fine, daddy.’ There’s an undertone of travesty to your reply. Whether he notices, he doesn’t show as he kisses closer and closer to your slit.

At the first contact of his lips to your clit, your hips buckle upwards and fingers fly to entangle his hair. Sucking harshly on your sensitive bud, all you’re capable of is squirming and writhing underneath him like a possessed body. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your succulence sends a shot of ecstasy down your quaking legs. Your head feels dizzy.

‘Fuck!’ You whine.

‘You like that, baby?’ When he looks up at you, wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winds in your stomach.

‘Yes, daddy.’ Your grip on his hair tightens.

Then he’s gorging you like a feast, tongue fluttering on your swollen bundle of nerves, your kryptonite, teeth scraping along your folds seductively. After several licks of your entrance, he pushes not one, but two digits into your cunt. They ease in, lubricated by your moist walls that welcome the pressure of his intrusion into you like the open sea. He draws wide circles inside you, and it feels like your innards are being stirred to perfection by a metal rod. In the meantime, his assault on your clit does not falter, rhythmically hitting his tongue against you, allowing the vibrations of his humming to penetrate your core.

Looking down, this is simply the most beautiful sight you’ve ever witnessed. Taehyung, eyes glimpsing up at you hungrily, face buried nose-deep in your pussy, hands gripping under your thighs that are rested on his shoulders, all the while the moon shines its ethereal glow onto you and the iridescent ocean in the background plays a symphony harmonious to your moans and his filthy slurps.

Suddenly, an explosion of pleasure arrives at your clit. ‘Oh, fuck yes!’ You screech, throat raw from the pure elation that washes over you. The throbbing in your cunt releases at his continuous friction, pulsating so wildly you think you will burst. His fingers pump out your high as he sucks one last time, long and hard, on your beating clit. ‘Ah… Oh my god… Taehyung…’

Finally he emerges from between your legs to breathe. You watch as your fluid dribble down his chin lewdly, your thumb swipes to catch the wetness.

‘How was that?’ Untangling his arms from your legs, he walks up on his elbows to meet your lips in a tender kiss.

‘Mind-blowing.’ You utter against his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head for dramatic effect. ‘Let’s continue back in our room.’ Quickly you do up your bikini, impatient for more.

Without needing another word, Taehyung sweeps you into his arms, gathers all your belongings and hastily carries you back to your hotel located just a minute away from the beach. Although, it takes much longer than a minute for you to arrive seeing as multiple detours are made along the way, fondling behind a tree, kissing in the elevator and missing your floor.

And when you’re finally in the confines of your room, he pins you to the closed door, not even bothering to switch on the lights, lips latched onto your magnetising neck. Your wrists trapped in his grip against the hard wood, you ache to touch him as his teeth find your earlobe. Nipping at your soft round flesh, a pleasant shock is sent down your spine at the twinge of pain.

‘Daddy…’ You sigh.

He pulls away to stare into your beseeching eyes. ‘What do you want daddy to do to you?’ His voice is a low grumble of dominance, digging its talons into your brain.

‘I want… I want you to fuck me until I cry.’ In the dark of the room, your attention flickers to the moonlit terrace outside. ‘Right on that balcony over there.’

Something in his obsidian eyes ignite at your suggestion. Zealous with lust, he brings you through the glass door that opens to the fresh night. ‘You want me to fuck you right here, baby? For everyone to see?’

Danger lurking one kiss away, you sense the precarious position his sanity is at. So you reach down and grab his hard member over his shorts, and tip his mind to a carnal frenzy.

‘Yes please, daddy.’ The name is the last straw for him. His breath hitches as you tug down his pants and allow his enormous cock to spring free.

Spinning you around roughly, he bends you over onto the rail of the balcony and strips off your swimsuit in one deft gesture. From here, you have an unobstructed view of the coast, lined by bustling bars and closing restaurants. The neighbouring terraces are a metre away, if anyone walks out now, they would horrifically witness Taehyung’s gargantuan length about to drill into you from behind.

Your heart is pounding in excitement of the risk as well as the anticipation of his cock. Not being able to see him, he can thrust into you any moment now, he must be revelling in such control he holds.

Then you feel it, his large round tip pressing against your entrance curiously. Your legs shake expectantly while fresh arousal leaks out of you, mixing with his precum he’s pressing into you. ‘Beg one more time for me.’

Taehyung and his motherfucking ego.

‘Please, daddy.’ Allowing the words to drag out on your tongue, you twist your neck to look at him with wide pleading eyes. He looks like a king, towering over you with this much assertion, relishing in the power he holds above you in this very moment.

‘Good girl.’

Hands holding your hips in place, he slams his tremendous member into your gaping cunt in one forceful plunge. You can’t help but cry out at the sheer stretch of your walls he’s spanning. Holy fuck, he’s so big he makes it feels like your first time.

All you feel at first is an incredible cinching of your core, the ache of him impaling his rigid shaft through the resisting pressure of your vagina. God, is he fucking massive. He seems to know it as well because he gives you a second to adjust to his size, palm scaling smoothly up the hill of your back to gather your hair in his hand like a rein. Then he is pummelling into you, hips slapping against your bottom, ringing such vulgar sounds in your ears. His cock, hard as if carved from marble, piercing through the pain and moulding a thing of sweet sweet pleasure inside you. You grip the rail so tight its edge gouges marks into your skin, your head hung low between your tense arms.

‘Fu-u-u-uckk-k-k-’ He fucks those syllables out of you one by one. At this angle, his cock is curving up the wrong way into you, jabbing at pockets that normally aren’t reached.

A part of your soul is no longer with you, propelled elsewhere by his ceaseless merciless attack on your cunt. Then comes the sting of his palm when he spanks a searing hot mark into your ass cheek. The sharp pain is refreshing alongside the dull ache behind the euphoric throb he is penetrating into you.

‘This fucking ass of yours, baby. Been driving me nuts in those shorts all week.’ Another slap echoes in your ears, and you welcome it by curving your back more to tip your tush higher for him.

‘Daddy, you fuck me so good.’ Playing along with this narrative he’s into, you egg him on further, stroking his ego as your walls are stroking his dick. Because, damn, he is fucking you so good. Pounding into you with such vigour and violence that your folds are beginning to sting.

You’ve reached a point now where you’re no longer intoxicated by alcohol, but more the addictive fumes of him.

Moans that fall from his lips tingle at your clit, which you start to play with to add to your stimulation. Another smack on your ass, this time so surprising that you scream out. ‘Yes, be loud for me. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.’ He coaxes.

Taehyung begins to slow, which you know is a sign that he’s close but doesn’t want to blow his load yet. He bends over you, your hair still tied around his wrist, and nips at the shell of your ear. You’ve never known your ear to be such an erogenous zone, for when his tongue flickers at your inner shell, a shudder convulses through you. Leaving slobbery kisses down the curve of your shoulder, he slowly pulls out of you.

‘Finish on the bed?’ As Taehyung embraces you from behind, his strong arm comes under your cold lonely breasts that perk up at his attention, his dripping wet cock sitting between your red ass cheeks. The hum of his deep rasp on your neck sends your head lolling back onto his sweat-dotted chest.

‘Sure.’ What leaves you is a mere huff, you can’t even conjure your voice.

His lips seal yours as he walks you back into the room, leaving the glass door open for the night breeze to grace you. Amidst the savage sex, you treasure such a soft, delicate moment on your tongue, delighting in the way the tips of his fingers trace up your side. When his hand slithers up to your face, you melt into the warm flesh of his palm, mouth opening up for him to unfurl into.

Then the back of your knees hit the bed, and you know it’s about to begin again. Without breaking the union of your lips, you clamber onto the sheets with his frame hovering over you. Grappling on his neck, you drag Taehyung atop you as your head sinks down onto the plush of the pillow.

He sucks on your plump bottom lip one last time before pulling away. Fluid still profusely oozing out of the slit of his tip, telltale of his concupiscence, he perches between your legs. ‘How do you want it, baby?’ His tone endearing, yet eyes deadly dangerous.

Impatient for him to fill you to the brim again, you lift your both legs up for him to grab and place onto his shoulders. ‘Like this please, daddy.’

That’s all you have to say for him to grunt okay and push deep into you, knees digging into the mattress like lampposts. In this position, his cock reaches your cervix without hindrance, his swollen head slamming into your end every thrust he gives. It’s a different type of ache this time, more acutely targeted at the one sensitive spot inside you. As he continues you thrust into you, bollocks swinging at your ass, a build up of sensitivity gathers at your core.

You feel it approaching, that imminent contortion of your cunt, looming over you, on the brink of toppling your senses.

‘Keep going.’ You whimper, the filthy feeling of his prick hammering so fast into you enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to keep them open, watch his tongue poke out in concentration as he watches your body quiver under his. But the intensity of his fucking is truly too overwhelming that a single droplet leaks out and flow down your temple.

‘I’m so close.’ Taehyung heaves, pecking the bone of your ankle. Something ruptures within him, his sanity, humanity, and suddenly with an even more arduous determination he drives into your walls like a crazed beast. Sole purpose now to reach the climax awaiting him, he spreads your legs open wide before him and rabidly plunges his twitching prick.

And for the second and third time this night, your orgasm hits you, one immediately followed by the other. ‘Taehyung, I’m-’ You’re a crying thrashing body beneath him, the ecstatic pleasure obliterating your mind into ruins as your cunt erupts. The string of profanities that leave you sound incoherent to your own hearing.

You won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow, you’re sure of it.

Taehyung watches you break on his cock, walls tightening impossibly around him, until only a husk of your being remains.

‘Holy shit, I’m gonna come.’ Frantic with excitement, his hips move sloppily. ‘Where should I come?’

‘All over my face? In my mouth?’ Cupping your breast, you gaze up at him with salacious eyes.

‘Oh my fuck- Yes.’

Yanking himself out, a string of your own release threaded at his tip, he slides himself up the bed until his knees are on either side of your head. Pornographically he slaps his hot length on your cheek several times as you roll out your tongue for him. ‘You like that? You like my dick on your face?’

‘Hmmm.’ You engulf his seeping tip in your ready mouth while he jerks himself off with a teenage boy’s zest, his knuckles hitting at the underside of your chin.

Eager to coax his orgasm, you lick fervently at his sensitive head, right on the patch of skin around his slit that drives every man insane.

‘Oh fuck! Baby-’

Abruptly, he withdraws his cock from your mouth. Not after two strokes, he is shooting hot white spurts of his seed onto your face, your eyes shutting just in time to avoid being fired at. Some of his fluid lands in your mouth, brewing bitterly on your awaiting tongue. Eyes squeezed shut, his cock pulses involuntarily in his hand as he lurches his high to an end.

‘You look so fucking good with my cum all over your face.’ Taehyung stares at his piece of work, splattered across your cheeks, on your forehead, and unfortunately for you, in your hair. Feral demeanour dimming, he leans down and gently smears his ejaculation all over your skin before nudging it into your mouth.

Like his good little baby you are, you swallow it like it’s your milk.

‘Mm…’ Throat hoarse from all the moaning, you suck his taste off his thumb.

Exhaustion dawns over the both of you when the adrenaline drains from your blood. Ache straining between your thighs, you waddle over to the bathroom quickly before him cum dries into a crusty nightmare.

Your sex-ridden, hair-dishevelled, hickey-speckled reflection greets you in the mirror. Realisation of your actions sink into your heart along with the sour taste of guilt.

What the fuck have you done?

You just had the wildest sex with Taehyung, your new roommate.

Taehyung, your new roommate.

Taking a deep breath in and out, you try to form back the logic shattered by his brutal fucking. Why do you have to be the way that you are? Just why are you so incapable of controlling your nymphomania?

‘You okay?’ Taehyung’s bass booms from the bedroom, startling you from your turmoil.

You gave into your temptations. You fucked up.

But this isn’t unsalvageable, you two can recover from it. After all, it’s not like you have been lifelong best friends, you’ve only just met each other, still stepping into deeper stages of your friendship day by day. As long as you don’t let this happen again, stop seeing him in a sexual light, you two should be fine.

Yes, you’ll be fine.

Drying your washed face with a towel, your answer is muffled. ‘Yep, all good.’

When you roam back to the room, you see him sprawled out like a Greek God, still shirtless but now wearing sweatpants that outlines his bulge all too well, bed sheets bunched to the side to aerate his sweat-dampened body. His eyes crawl over your naked form with a thirst that has you willing to drop to your knees and suck him off again. Spoilt in the attention he’s doling you, you climb beside him perhaps too seductively than you should.

Stop. You shouldn’t.

Taehyung doesn’t waste a second to pull you into his chest and smother you with slow, passionate kisses. Such contradiction to his rough handling of you sheer minutes ago. His tongue feels heavier, nicer as it rolls along yours, maybe because you’re now sober, senses no longer dulled by alcohol.

It’s a difficulty to retract from his romantic poet of a mouth whose sole purpose is to entice you into its warm embrace. But you do. ‘Hey… We really shouldn’t have…’ You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence because you care too much for his feelings to hurt him.

But then the cool nonchalance in his pupils relieve you of your fear. ‘Yeah… Probably not the smartest move.’

His fingers toy fondly with your hair, twirling it like a velvet ribbon. Eyes wide with his boyish innocence, you wonder if this is the same person who was just slapping his dick on your cheek and made you call him daddy. This trip was meant to allow you to understand him better, yet you remain stuck, perhaps more than before, in his enigma.

And you wonder how his girlfriend could ever have sought after anyone else Taehyung is… Well he has just done that…

‘It doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still friends?’ You want to roll out of his clasp yet his arms feel so soft and smooth and perfect to fall asleep in.

‘Of course, Y/N’ From the earnesty in his tone, you know you can trust his word.

To resume your previous playful dynamic, you pinch his nose between your knuckles. ‘Then let go of me, friends don’t cuddle.’

‘Friends do cuddle.’ He frowns, shocked as if you’ve just slapped him across the face with a whole cabbage of kimchi.

‘Uh… No they don’t.’ Repulsed by such affection, you try to wiggle away but he locks his arms around your torso like a vice.

‘I don’t know what kind of friends you’ve had, but you’re stuck with me now and in Taehyung-land: Friends. Cuddle.’ Blowing raspberries on your ticklish neck, he lets you squirm like a fish in attempt to escape his coddling, chest rumbling into your back with laughter. Your squeals of help turn into giggles. Raspberries turn into kisses.

You freeze. ‘Oi, friends don’t kiss friends’ necks.’

‘Come on, we just had sex, let me just kiss you a bit more.’ Watching him pout so babily, your heart squeezes. Fuck. Why is your heart squeezing?

But you kiss his jutted lips, still. Savouring his taste that you know you won’t have the chance to delight in again. ‘Fine, but if you try to kiss me tomorrow, I’ll kick your nuts.’

Taehyung takes that as a green light to use you as a snuggle toy for the rest of the night, mouth gallivanting the ocean that is your skin.

.

07/09/18

© Copyright 2019

.

@shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365  @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @taexxxiiaa @spring2787 @monixreal

[snowedinpodcast]

Transcript and content warning below the cut!

Let’s Walk: Kind of Stillness [Transcript]

[Content Warning: in-depth descriptions of bodily coldness]

There’s something about being physically cold that’s so upsetting. Like, there’s kind of a sweet spot to it, I think. Right now, my right hand is half-numb—like, the ring finger and the pinky finger? If I move them, I can just about feel them, but that's it, and then the rest of my hand—the middle finger, pointer finger, thumb—are, like, burning? Like, they’re so cold they’re hot, y’know? So they are not numb, they are having a bad time, and I feel like the numbness is that kind of sweet spot. It’s like oh, my hands are so cold that they don’t even register how cold they are, so I am not in discomfort. This is fine. 

But it takes … an hour? Maybe 30 minutes? To get there, to that numbness sweet spot. And then, like, moving your whole hand feels really strange ‘cause you can barely—your hand barely registers that muscles are moving ‘cause they’re numb. So … it’s like, it’s comforting in that it’s not physically uncomfortable but it’s upsetting in that you’re watching your hand move but you’re not feeling your hand move … and then it’s like an alien creature has inhabited your arm or something. [Laughs]. It’s bad! It’s bad, don’t love it. Um, but also do love it, weirdly. I prefer the numb feeling to the burning. My left hand is entirely burning, so that’s great. 

Um … there is something a bit settling about being cold, though. Like, physically cold, once you hit the numb point. Because it sort of feels like a kind of stillness. When you’re hot, there is also a kind of stillness, but you’re, like, sweating, y’know? You’re, like, laying on your bed … just … pouring liquid out of your pores [laughs] and it’s sticky, and it’s uncomfortable, and where, like, your arm lays close to your body, there is more heat ‘cause both your chest and your upper arm are in close contact with each other. And so that—like, the heat enveloping both of them overlaps, so there’s points of heat where your limbs connect that you just can never do anything about ‘cause you can’t disconnect them. Whereas when you’re all-over numb and cold, you’re all-over numb and cold. It’s not more cold or less cold in any one specific place. When your whole body gets to that stage … your whole body gets to that stage. Or, more specifically, ‘cause, like, you tend to keep your core and your neck and your head warm—or else you’ll die—but, like, when your extremities all reach the same level of numb-cold, that is the best. That is the best. That is the kind of stillness that I go for. And it’s settling. But I hate the process of getting there.

I also hate the process of getting out of that kind of stillness … because when your hands are numb to the point where they’ve registered that the coldness surrounding you is like room-temperature-level or is acceptable hand temperature, bringing your hands back up to room temperature is upsetting to them! Your fingers swell up, they don’t know what they’re doing! They’re like, why have you done this? I thought we just re-established a new normal room temperature! And I’m like, well, we’re inside now, and I want to draw. Like, that’s the thing, when my fingers are, like, numb-burning—either going through the process of becoming fully numb or coming out of that process and readjusting to room temperature—your fingers puff up, they burn a little bit, and, like, their movements are not as precise. So I can’t draw. You don’t know how many times I have come home from school—high school—and just wanted to freaking draw. But I can’t. And I have to sit abjectly by the fireplace, sticking my hands out, until my hands are done warming up to the point where I can hold a pencil and make confident strokes. [Laughs]. It’s upsetting! Oh my gosh. But anyway, yeah. 

And I also haven’t felt numb-cold in a while because I spend most of the year in Washington state … going to university. Which I won’t be doing after this semester and then the one after it. Terrifying. We’re not gonna think about that right now. Being a senior is such a liminal experience. It’s a whole year of, just, being in-between places. If you think senior year of high school is weird—which it is, it’s very weird—ah, try senior year of college. Yeah. I’ll bet you, like, the last year before retirement is also weird—although I don’t know if you know that as certainly as you know it with high school and college. ‘Cause you gotta go somewhere after senior year but people can technically retire whenever they want to as long as they’re financially able to do so. I guess if you were keeping really strong track of your finances and you were like, yes, by the end of the next five years I will be able to have enough money to retire at this facility that I’ve researched intensely or on this island that I bought, whatever it is, whatever … [laughs] whatever percent … whatever tax bracket you’re in … 

If you earn over $100,000 a year, you should just be eaten—[laughs], no. You should have whatever other income you get on top of that skimmed off and donated. Maybe you can pick the charity you want to donate it to, how ‘bout that. That’ll make it feel a bit less like the government is strangling you but … like, as suspicious [as] I am of governmental structures and as frustrating I find it that bureaucracy slows everything down … millionaires cannot be trusted. Capitalism and its free-for-all, laissez-faire bullshit is going to favor … corner-cutting, rich, trust-fund baby types who have not read enough intersectional feminist theory to make informed decisions with their money. If you’re a shrewd businessperson who doesn’t have an ethical bone in your body, who chooses to ignore ethical considerations, you are going to trash this planet [and exploit workers]. That is how we got here. So I need there to be something that holds the millionaires accountable for themselves. If I have to side with the US government to fight the millionaires … I guess I just have to do it, man. I guess I just have to do it. 

‘Cause at least with the government, to some degree, you can vote people in. Not trying to say that there aren’t biases there that shut out people of color��women of color—and favor, y’know, the third Kennedy kid, whatever his name was. Like yeah, yeah—voting people in, having democratic representatives still isn’t perfect. But at least the people have some kind of say, unlike with millionaires. Like, you just become a millionaire or you don’t, like, you have that million dollar idea and it takes off but you haven’t been vetted—like, you haven’t … you, you don’t have to qualify to be an ethical human in order to reach millionaire status. Whereas if you’re going to be representing your, your district, your state, the country at large as one of the Supreme Court Justices, you need to do a lot of proving yourself worthy of that title to the people you represent before you get there. And I think that is better than nothing. [Sigh]. It’s definitely better than just millionairehood and the wacky ways in which that sorts itself out. God, I’m cold. 

How did we get here, how did we start talking about millionaires? God, I’m cold. Oh yeah, it’s retirement and the last year of retirement and how that must feel weird. I’m sure it does … “but not as good as me!” “Left, left, left my wife and 49 children without any gingerbread. Think I did right. Right? Right, by my—” 

I love that I can just quote … random passages from my favorite books that I read as a kid. It doesn’t even necessarily have to fit whatever I’m thinking, I can just call up exactly how the actor hired to read the audiobook read those lines and just play them in my head and then imitate them to the best of my ability with my own voice and it’s just instantly funny? I don’t know why it’s funny. Maybe it’s not so much that it’s funny but it’s comforting? And it’s a little silly ‘cause it obviously sounds different in my head than how I’m able to replicate it ‘cause my voice is not the same voice as the people who read the audiobooks for these stories, but … and then there’s also a bit of humor in, like, just randomly spouting a phrase that has no connection to what I was just thinking ... but that still feels right somehow. Like, the reason that “left, left, left my wife and 49 children” fit that moment was because it is comforting to me as a human, it did not fit with the subject matter of what I was talking about. So it fit for a different reason, and these incongruent contexts in which the conversation I was just having and this quote still somehow fit with, like, me as a human … that’s just weird! The contrast is weird! And weird things make ya laugh. [Laughs]. I don’t know, dude, trying to explain humor is like, … god … if you ever wanna watch an English major—er, a Lit major—froth at the mouth, ask them to explain a joke … and they will fall over themselves. 

Ok, great. Thanks for that, thanks for that. I love you. [Tongue click].

[baekhyunangst]

Heather

pairing(s): nomin (kind of) x oc(fem)

genre/warnings: angst,,just angst

tags: unrequited love, one-sided pining, bestfriends!nomin, heather!au

words: 3k

a/n: this is my first fic on this app so apologies for any mistakes you find here, entirely inspired by conan gray’s song called “heather” <3 i did not give the song the justice it deserves so im sorry in advance, that being said, please leave a comment if you did happen to like it ^^

note: https://youtu.be/24u3NoPvgMw

summary: Jaemin notices how Jeno's eyes glint when you are within his line of vision-  as you maneuver your way towards their table- him flashing a smile only reserved for you. He rips his stare away from the scene, his heart squeezing uncomfortably in his chest. 

 And just like that, Jaemin watches Jeno fall in love with you more and more, while his heart breaks piece by piece each time you show up.

I still remember, 3rd of december

me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me

"Here, wear this."

Jeno hands Jaemin a fluffy, red sweater with a pair of sweatpants while the latter blows air into his palm, trying to warm his hands.

They were just out and going about their day, strolling the city when it started to pour out of the blue. Thankfully, Jeno's place was nearby so they rushed to his apartment but still had gotten drenched halfway.

Jaemin eyes the sweater with clear distaste (or pretends to, considering he had worn the said sweater on multiple occasions he stayed over at his place, or had impromptu sleepovers without any complaints previously).

"Really, this ugly sweater, again?" Jaemin clicks his tongue but still takes the bright sweater from Jeno's grasp.

Jeno gasps in faux hurt, hand placed against his chest,

"Hey, don't say that! You're going to hurt its feelings."

Jaemin merely chuckles at his best friend's antics, turning around to change- taking off his wet sweater and pulling the clean cloth over his head, the soft fabric brushing against his bare skin that is accentuated with the distinctive smell of Jeno's cologne.

Oh how Jaemin hates the way his heart pricks and goosebumps cover every pore of his skin- because he shouldn't be getting this affected. It's just a sweater get over it, he reprimands himself. He quickly changes his bottoms as well before turning around to see an already freshened-up Jeno staring at him with a wistful expression on his face.

Jaemin quirks an eyebrow, "What, is there something on my face?"

He reaches a hand up to touch his face but Jeno shakes his head,

"No, it's just, I realized how it has become an unconscious habit for me give you that sweater," Jeno motions towards Jaemin's chest with his hand.

For some reason, Jaemin holds his breath awaiting for the next words that is about to stumble out of Jeno's mouth,

"It looks way better on you than it does on me. Keep it. The red really suits you." Jeno finishes with a playful wink.

And just like that, Jaemin's heart races a mile because stupid, stupid Jeno, and his stupid comment, Jaemin berates silently.

Stupid Jeno with his crescent eyes and wide, infectious smile.

Jeno walks out of the bedroom and head towards the living room, with Jaemin in tow with crimson ears, one that is almost matching the color of his sweater.

He futiely convinces himself that it is just a harmless crush (a supposed phase that has roughly gone on for about a year now). It will pass, he tells himself, albeit unconvincingly.

"Do you know what date is today?" Jeno asks as he turns on the TV and settles down on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels randomly.

Jaemin answers quizzically, "It's 3rd of december, why?"

Jaemin had just placed himself on the space next to Jeno when he abruptly shifts around and faces him, grabbing both his hands, pretty eyes filled with excitement,

"Oh shit, dude! How to train your dragon: homecoming comes out today."

Jaemin is taken aback by the overly enthusiastic Jeno, his insides going haywire with how close Jeno's face is to his- the proximity rendering him immobile. He can also feel his hot breath fanning across his cheeks, prompting him to bite the insides of his cheeks to stay in check, because, Jeno is all up his personal space, eyes crinkling at the sides, and his pink, soft pillow of a lips lifting up at the corner. Their faces are mere centimetres apart, and he could just feel Jeno's touch if he leans in tad more.

It is scary how he is easily evading his senses, leaving him unable to formulate any rational thoughts, as he can only drink in the view in front of him, and maybe feel his lips, thoughts drifting into dangerous waters. He can feel his pulse quickening, lips drying up as he swipes his tongue out to lather them in moisture- it has only been mere seconds yet his heart is pounding against his chest. His eyes roaming about Jeno's face wordlessly, counting his moles and freckles that decorated his countenance like constellations.

However, he quickly snaps out of it when he feels Jeno lightly squeezes his hand still with that expectant look,

"O-oh yeah, I completely forgot. Why don't you turn on netflix while I fix us some warm drinks, yeah?"

Jaemin averts his gaze and stands up straight not waiting for an answer, making a beeline for the kitchen. Once he is within the safe confines of the kitchen, he places a hand on his chest hoping to aid his racing heart to settle down, trying to regulate his breathing. It's getting worst, shit, he curses in his head. He should be more careful because he almost slipped, he makes a mental note.

They spend their time together watching the movie, a blanket on their lap, thighs brushing, their drinks empty on the table in front of them.

Sometime later in the middle of the night, during their third movie, Jaemin feels a light weight on his shoulder, and glances towards a sleepy Jeno, already nodding off.

He sighs affectionately, although it's laced along with anguish. He extends his hand to brush Jeno's bangs away from, eyes raking over his soft features mutely.

The sudden urge to grab his face and kiss him dumb and drunk is overwhelmingly strong, which startles Jaemin for even having such a thought.

(Although the irrational part of his mind is already wandering off in the deepest desires of his thought, like how kissing Jeno would feel, to act on his selfish thoughts, to just give in, and succumb to the chaotic mess of his thoughts until there's only white noise, and he can no longer breathe, the only source of air being Jeno.)

His heart clenches painfully, oh, was Jeno so beautiful and magnificent as red rose, lush green leaves, covered in thorns that could tear your skin, but it still wouldn't forbid you from touching it- the blood seemingly an easy price to pay to just get a feel.

But the ground reality was, Jaemin knew him well enough to know Jeno couldn't possibly feel the same way as he does, because you were there.

He wasn't oblivious to how Jeno's demeanor changed when his phone vibrated in the middle of a movie, how his smile spread further across his cheeks if it was even possible, eyes glued to his phone screen, and how he watched the rest of the movie with a light bounce in his feet, chin up, and a pretty smile on his lips.

(Like I could never, his heart breaks a little at the revelation).

Jaemin gazes at Jeno's sleeping figure, expression etched with a deep ache of longing, a hand reaching out under the blanket to hold his warm ones, giving it a comforting squeeze, while this action also causes his heart strings to tug against each other painfully.

It is only a matter of time before any of you realize your true feelings.

So until then, Jaemin will keep Jeno caged in his selfish thoughts.

Until he no longer can.

Until he falls in love with you.

If only he knew how much he liked him.

                         You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

Jaemin observes from a distance, the scene unfolding in front of him; Jeno's arm on your shoulder, eyes entirely captivated by your presence, like nothing else mattered and the rest of world just disappeared.

It's almost pathetic, how Jaemin could easily spot his sweater from the crowd as if it was mocking him, because of all things, Jeno's sweater caught his attention. There's nothing special about the black piece of cloth, with random scribbles of letters on the back, almost fading in color because of how frequently the boy wore that article of clothing.

There really is nothing special about it, so why did his insides poke at him, why did his eyes prick at the sight of you wearing his sweater- he thinks it's so silly and stupid and he shouldn't even be feeling hurt given the fact you are dating him- it should have been a completely normal occurrence.

It is blatantly obvious how much he likes you better in his faded black sweater, eyes never wandering elsewhere, always on you- he liked you so much better. He could never bring that shy smile on his face and the sparkle dancing off in his eyes like you did.

While Jeno might have given him a red sweater, he gave you his favorite sweater, even though it is just polyester. Jaemin realizes, knows, nothing could compare to that.

For some reason Jaemin can't seem to break his gaze away from the two of you- hands clasped together, similar tinted cheeks, occasionally sharing kisses, your surrounding passing in a blur. You look warm in his embrace.

Everything comes to a halt in Jaemin's world, and he pretends it's him with Jeno, sharing loving gazes, endearing smiles and gentle touches- if only he knew.

Jaemin finally looks away, heart heavy in his chest, cold hands crumpling the end of his sweater, the chilly winter breeze biting at the exposed skin of his neck. He's hoping the cold would somehow numb his pain.

It is so silly to have worn the red sweater, Jaemin thinks.

Because he is not you, and Jeno likes you better.

And black is a much better color than red, anyways, Jaemin muses with a crestfallen expression.

 But I watch your eyes, as she walks by

what a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than a blue sky

Jaemin wishes he could erase the mental image of Jeno painted in his head, when you dropped by earlier to their table, beautiful face and everything.

How Jeno's eyes instantly brightened as he spots you in the hoard of students, calling out your name with such fondness that it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Their conversation stops midway when Jeno's eyes zeroed behind Jaemin, eyes turning all tender and crescents, and god, did he look so in love.

Jeno looks prettier than ever, and his heart shatters a little.

The view now taunts him, as he recalls the memory, how you could just kiss him like that. The action causing him to flit his eyes away from the two of them, his heart squeezing in slight discomfort.

He also watched as you walk away from the clutches of Jeno's arm for your next class, Jaemin's eyes never leaving his side- the way Jeno's eyes significantly dimmed and lips jutted out, it is so childish, Jaemin thinks.

Except for some unfathomable reason, it was ripping his insides into shreds, making him painfully aware that he could never do those things to him.

What a sore sight, Jaemin wonders bitterly.

But how could I hate her? 

she's such an angel

Sometimes Jaemin wishes you were a complete bitch, because then he could hate you and it wouldn't hurt as much.

But you aren't.

You are nice and sweet and kind, and just so profoundly you. It was not a hard feat for anyone to fall for your charming personality. People liked you instantly from exchanging a few conversations, because he did too.

Jaemin could tell why Jeno is so in love with you.

Jaemin recollects the instance in which he got sick and had missed two important classes; because the two of shared the same class, you had prepared separate notes for him despite him not asking you for anything, or the numerous times you would invite him to your dates with Jeno, worried that you might be leaving him out deliberately. Because you understood more than anyone how much Jeno meant for him, he is his bestfriend after all-afraid that you might be overstepping your boundaries when it came to their bond.

How you would ask permission from him for the insignificant of things like staying over during their movie or gaming nights. How you would also prepare meals for him on the day the three of you happened to be at Jeno's place, insisting that he stay whenever Jaemin feels like he is intruding during your private time with him, even though his visit was unannounced. Jaemin could never bring himself to hate you-how could he when in fact, he envied you. You were everything he was not- kind, beautiful, and thoughtful, always so considerate and mindful of others, gleaming with confidence.

He wishes he were you.

You are such an angel.

She's got you mesmerized while I die

The pinnacle of Jaemin's heartbreak comes not too soon after they spend a night at the beach, partying together with several other people from the same batch of their course-in celebration of their upcoming graduation ceremony.

They are sitting in front of the bonfire, a bottle of beer in both their hands as they take occasional swigs; the flame cackling and hissing, sending little sparks up in the sky. Jaemin discreetly eyes Jeno from the corner of his eye, the fire illuminating his sharp features, making it appear even more beautiful in the night glow, accompanied by the flame light.

Jeno is always radiant, he deems.

His gaze falters a bit when he observes the quite smile that makes it way to his countenance, his subject of interest being you when you grace your presence at the party with your friends. You don't notice them just yet, and Jeno's eyes are permanently fixed on your every little movement, the quirk of his lips widening by the second.

You have him mesmerized.

Jeno finally tears his stare away from you, seemingly satisfied, a prominent beam gracing his visage. Jaemin feels a dull ache in his chest, reminding him of the reality, the quite sound of bass playing from the stereo adding to the melancholic atmosphere. He watches their silhouettes that is reflecting on the sand, shadows close and almost touching, yet in reality, they are drifting apart.

"I'm going to marry her," Jeno breaks the calm serenity (breaking Jaemin's heart alongside it). He tilts his head up, taking in the starry night, a content grin playing on his lips,

"I'm going to marry her, Jaem," he says again, this time with a reassuring smile on his face as he spares a glance towards Jaemin's direction.

Jaemin can only offer a tight smile in return, hoping it doesn't turn out like a grimace. Thankfully Jeno seems too busy in his own little world to notice the brooding silence that has taken over Jaemin.

By the end of the semester, things seems to have escalated because Jeno stands there with you in front of the whole class, a shy smile on your face and a contagious beam on his face as he announces,

"She said yes."

Loud cheers erupt in the class as confetti's drop everywhere, and amidst the celebration Jeno makes his way towards Jaemin, arms spread widely, ready to engulf his best man in a tight embrace,

"Congratulations, Jen. I'm so happy for you, both of you," Jaemin lies through his teeth, hoping, praying, that his voice doesn't break.

Jaemin dies a little within.

He lied, he died a whole lot more than little.

why would you ever kiss me

I'm not even half as pretty

"You may kiss the the bride,"

The pastor informs and Jaemin watches, his heart twisting and flailing inside his chest, a thick lump forming in his throat, eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears, as Jeno and you seal a kiss, officially pronounced as married couple.

You looked so pretty in your white gown, the most gorgeous bride, Jaemin thinks, and Jeno is adorned in a black tuxedo, gone was the boy he knew when he was younger, now a refined and mature Jeno stood in front of you. A man full of committing promises, until death do you apart.

The ceremony is held during a warm spring day with only close family members and friends invited, at a local beach.

After entertaining the guests and spending some time with you and Jeno, Jaemin excuses himself to take a breather. He finds himself walking along the shore of the beach, away from the noisy chatter and blaring music behind him.

With his shoes in one hand, his feet digs into the sand, leaving prints before it is washed away by the water. It was almost metaphorical, as if reminding him that his existence will be diminishing from Jeno's life gradually. The waves align perfectly to the shore, covering his feet entirely at random intervals. And he walks and walks until the sound behind him is nothing but a white noise.

He also belatedly realizes his shoulder is trembling, vision blurring as tears are streaming down his cheeks, his resolve and endurance now breaking. He falls apart completely, silently weeping as he strides further away, huffing and gasping for air. It feels like someone's stepping on his chest, blocking his airway, making it hard for him to breathe. The crashing sound of waves and the cicadas singing provides him a bit of comfort, telling him he has got company, but is still not enough- it does not mount to the anguish that wells up inside of him.

He chokes on his tears, trying to breathe through his mouth, swallowing the thick lump forming in his throat. Jaemin could not even tell where it hurt the most because, it hurt everywhere. The searing pain was overbearing and everything becomes a throbbing memory, Jeno speaking his vows as he peers deeply into your eyes, voice cracking in between, so much love being conveyed from his stare alone, and how he kisses you tenderly by the end of it.

It's haunting him now, how he could never be you. How he never stood a chance. How pretty of a girl you are that it almost stung his eyes, how Jeno would never dream of kissing him. 

He slow trudge ceases as he comes to a halt, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, and taking a deep breath.

It is not the end of the world, he tries to console himself. He'll be fine, eventually.

He takes solace in the fact knowing Jeno is loved and cared for by someone like you.

He will be okay, the last of his tears rolling down his cheeks.

[bedheadisme]

Part 2

It was around the end of January 2019 that I missed my period. I waited and waited, thinking it was my body adjusting to not being on birth control for the first time since I was 13. All the same, I decided that I’d stop drinking to be better safe than sorry. 

A few days later I worked up the nerve to go buy a pregnancy test. I spent a lot of time online looking for one that was the most accurate before I went to the store and picked out the one I had decided on. Even though TJ and I had been together for eight years and my mom was constantly nagging me about giving her grandbabies I was worried that someone would see me. Funny that I was still afraid that my mom would just decide to be at Kroger at that very moment and lose her mind. I knew at that point that even if I was pregnant the chances of a miscarriage were high. 

I didn’t want anyone but me and TJ to know until we were through the scary part. So the next morning I woke up extra early so that I could take the test. It was around 5:30 a.m. when I took it and I went and laid back in the bed with TJ. I wasn’t going to sit in the bathroom staring at the clock. I held his hand while the time ticked by and he remained blissfully asleep. Five minutes passed and I crept out of the bed. I stood in front of my bathroom door for another two trying to psyche myself up for whatever was behind the door. Finally, when my heart felt like it was pounding in my throat, I opened the door and peeked at the test. 

I was pregnant. 

Holy shit I was pregnant. 

I crept back in the room and curled up next to TJ. “Hey babe,” I whispered into the dark. 

“Hmm? What babe?” 

“Are you sure you want kids?” 

“Of course I do” he said tiredly.

“Well, that’s good because I’m pregnant.” 

He grabbed my arms and looked at me, as if to make sure I wasn’t kidding and then pulled me closer to him and crushed his lips to mine. When we finally rolled out of bed together he stretched over the bed and kissed my stomach with a little grin. 

“I don’t care if we’re late today, we’re getting donuts and coffee before work. Wait. You can’t have coffee. Or caffeine. Or sushi. “ 

“I’m sure it’s fine hon. I’ll get a tea and it will be fine.” 

I spent a lot of that first day randomly grinning and resisting the urge to text literally everyone I knew that we were starting a whole new adventure. My mom was going to be so happy. The one thing she was always asking me for was grandbabies. Between the random grinning and impulse control I also yo-yo’d with little tinges of fear. What if I lost the little nugget? What if I was a bad mom? What if the major change to our relationship pushed us apart instead of further together. I had spent the majority of my youth doing everything in my power to avoid being a single mom. 

If I’m being honest I never thought I wanted kids until TJ. I had always held the stance that if I wanted a child i’d like to adopt because of how full of addiction, depression, and anxiety my family history is. My mom, great as she is, got so stressed that she would pass out in random places. I imagine some kind of panic attacks because I only ever heard about it in hindsight. My dad, an alcoholic who consistently made the worst life choices possible. Supposedly a great grandpa who killed himself. An uncle who recovered from alcohol addiction just to hang himself in the garage. Another who died of cancer. Add all that up to a gene pool that I didn’t know how to protect a tiny little human from. 

The thing about TJ was, he was the only boy who would pass his line down and I had watched him for the last eight years. Confident that we could overcome anything. Every child he met was mesmerized by him. It’s like they saw him and simultaneously saw a big kid and a jungle gym to climb on. He’s so good with them that the fears I have of being a bad single mom with a crappy gene pool seem like a minor risk. 

The next week he surprised me with conversations about things like decorating for the baby, taking me to the pharmacy and buying me prenatals. Once, when I sat my phone down and didn’t hear it ring he showed up where I was, saying he was worried that something had happened. I laughed it off and told him that he was already acting like a worried dad. He went out and got a little onesie with his family crest that said “Coming Soon” for his parents. 

I had scheduled my very first appointment for February 18th. It was a Friday when I started spotting. I was worried but a quick google told me that a little spotting was normal but much more and it was a sign of a miscarriage. A rock settled in my stomach that night when I told TJ what was going on. 

“We knew this was a risk, we’ll just wait it out and see what happens.” 

Saturday I was still bleeding and I called the doctor and asked them what they thought. They told me that they couldn’t see me until after the first appointment but if I was really worried I would need to go to the ER. Sunday I was still spotting and I procrastinated, thinking I would go tomorrow if I hadn’t stopped. As I sat at my desk on that Monday, still bleeding I texted TJ and told him that I was going to go to the ER. He told me that he would go with me if I waited until he was off of work. 

Looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t wait. Maybe it’s because I’m used to dealing with my health on my own. Maybe I was afraid that I had waited too long. Mostly, I think I didn’t want to see TJ’s face when the doctor told me that I was in the process of miscarrying. I was convinced that I had done something to make this happen. Maybe it was that I hadn’t quit smoking soon enough. Maybe the universe was telling me that this wasn’t meant to happen for us yet or at all. 

I walked into the emergency room and spoke in hushed tones with the admissions lady. I explained why I was there and they took me back almost immediately. They took my blood and asked me questions like how long I had been bleeding and if I had taken a pregnancy test. The sterile smell of the hospital was making me nauseous. I sat in the room in my paper gown and waited - shaking. 

How was I going to tell TJ about this. I wanted to text my mom and ask her to be there but I hadn’t even told her that we thought we were pregnant for this very reason. The doctor came into the room finally and sat across from me in my paper gown. He was a middle aged man and I don’t really remember what he looked like. 

“So after looking at your blood levels, it doesn’t look like you are pregnant. Your hormone levels don’t show that you’re having a miscarriage because you weren’t pregnant. I’ll let you decide if that’s good or bad news. We’re going to give you a routine pelvic exam and then you’ll be free to get out of here.” 

“OK.” 

I shuffled to the table and let them poke and prod me. It was cold and I couldn’t stop replaying what the doctor said. It was like, because I was there by myself, it was no big deal. Just another girl dodging the pregnancy bullet. I did cry for a few minutes in the silence of the office. Then I told myself that I didn’t want to walk out of the hospital crying. I needed to be somewhere else. I waited in my paper gown to have them take the IV out of my arm. When the nurse came in and took it out I asked her “Is this common?” 

“Oh I don’t have your case I don’t know.” 

“Oh, is having a false positive pregnancy test common” I asked numbly.    

“I’m sorry honey, it’s my first day. I really don’t know.” 

After the IV was out and I made my way to my car I sat in the ER parking lot for about 20 minutes numbly. I think I texted TJ that we’d talk about it when he got off of work. I’m pretty sure I went home and sat in my living room in silence. I might have turned on the TV but to be honest I just sat there and replayed the doctors words in my head over and over again. When I was finished replaying his words I tried to mentally rehearse how I was going to tell TJ that I had let him down. 

What if I couldn’t give him a child? Was this the beginning of the end for us? What had I done wrong? Was I seriously so dumb that I had managed to do a pregnancy test incorrectly? And that little baby onesie was just sitting in my office at home. Staring at me like some kind of beacon of failure. When TJ texted me telling me he was ready to get out of work I drove in silence to get him. I sat at the wheel and gripped it as he climbed in. 

I started driving and as we got on the new circle exit he asked “So are we going to talk about it?” 

Woodenly I told him that I had never been pregnant. And then I told him that I didn’t want to talk about it. What I meant when I said that was that I didn’t want to talk about it with other people. Looking back on that conversation, I can see why he interpreted it as me not wanting to talk to him about it altogether. I told him that he could talk to another person about it. I certainly wasn’t prepared to work through everything that was going through my mind at that moment, much less his feelings. 

“Honestly, I think it would have been worse if you had had a miscarrage. At least we didn’t lose it.” 

I didn’t. I had been mentally preparing for the relatively common miscarraige that one out of three women experience. Not to find out that I never had a child. Not to hear the doctor say he’d let me decide if this was a good or a bad thing. Not to be hit in the face with the fear that I wasn’t going to be able to give TJ something that he wanted so desperately. 

I spent the first week after that doctors appointment glancing at the alcohol in my house thinking that I shouldn’t pick it up at all. I had a gut feeling that once I started, I wasn’t going to be able to stop drinking. I try not to drink when I’m feeling down. Sometimes I succeed and more often I end up crying at the bottom of a bottle. The next week I broke the news to my mom and she was understanding. We both cried. She said I was young and that me and TJ could try again. 

It was around week two that I broke down and started drinking again. Every night for weeks. I’d wake up numb and hungover, go to work, listen to depressing music and go home and do it all over again. There was one Saturday in particular that was pretty bad. It was the weekend after my scheduled first pregnancy appointment. I had cancelled it but I marked it on the calendar all the same. TJ went out to hang with his friends and I sat at the house by myself. I was drinking and depressed. I was lonely. 

That’s the thing that I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t know how to talk to people about everything that had happened. I didn’t even tell my best friend. I just swirled further down the bottle. I was getting more and more anxious as I drank more. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that there was a gun in our bedroom. Let me pause here, because I know what this sounds like. It sounds like I was thinking about blowing my brains out and being done with everything. 

But that’s not what this was. This was me thinking about it being there. Me thinking about the possibility of getting so drunk that I’d lose all reason and my drunk self would make the decision for me. I didn’t want to die. If only because the thought of how it would hurt everyone around me. That being said, the more I thought about that gun I decided that I needed someone here with me. 

I texted my best friend Becki and asked her if she’d come over and keep me company. That I was lonely and sloshed. Looking for someone to pass the time. Looking back, I’m glad that I did. She came over and we talked about everything except what I should have talked about. Movies, television, books. Those are easy things to talk about. Losing a pregnancy that I never had, that was something infinitely more difficult. 

February and March were difficult months. I was at an all time high consumption of bourbon. The first week of April TJ and I got into one of our bigger arguments. We both got drunk and ended up yelling at each other. Him about how I was always drinking and wasn’t talking to him about the no baby thing. Me about how I thought he was going to leave me because I couldn’t even get pregnant. 

“Do you really think that I would leave you if you can’t give me a baby?” 

“Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s what you want more than anything. Why stay with someone who can’t give you that? I’m fucking useless.” 

“Babe, I’m not going to leave you. I love you and I’m tired of you saying I’m going to leave. I’m not.” 

On April 13th we both woke up and shuffled around each other. Offering apologies and me promising that I’d try to communicate better. Surprisingly, the fight had left me feeling lighter. Like for the first time in months, things might start to turn the corner for us. Maybe the timing hadn’t been right for us to start a family. But we could keep trying. Through the haze of the last few months I had learned that it wasn’t unusual for pregnancy to take up to eighteen months to happen when you’ve been on birth control as long as I had been. It didn’t change what had happened, but gave me a little hope that my body wasn’t defective. 

“You wanna go out today and see a movie or go ride? Just get out of the house today? I think we could both use it?” TJ asked. 

“Sure. I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so let’s go ride today. If you still want to see a movie we can go tomorrow. I’d hate to waste the sunshine.”