#the night i saw that on a chart and cracked up thinking it was a typo only to discover it was a real thing

[marmotsomsierost]

I feel like today is a great time for my favorite medical abbreviation (which they sadly renamed apparently as i discovered when i went to wikipedia to snag a link) - Bronchiolitis obliterans with organizing pneumonia, aka...

BOOP

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 6

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You sleep sitting up. Aside from the stiffness in your muscles, your stomach is gurgling from the greasy meal. The night fraught with worry and restlessness leaves your head even more cloudy than before. It’s real, you know it, and yet you just don’t want to accept it. 

The doctor comes after 8am. He checks your father’s vital and makes some notes on his chart. Andy asks about his condition as you can’t bring yourself to speak. He looks ragged and tired, you must not come off any better. 

“We’ll have to wait until he’s stable to make any further determination. We’ll need to test his cognizance along with his physical capabilities. The injury like has caused a TBI, meaning the effects will vary. He’ll need to be monitored well beyond his time here,” the doctor explains as Andy listens intently. You cling to every word but your mind is reeling. “Best to discuss what sort of therapies would be covered by insurance.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Andy says, “thanks, doctor.” 

“Of course. You did a good job getting him here quickly,” the man in the white coat pauses and sends you definitive look, “keeping pressure on him. You both saved his life.” 

Your eyes sting and your nose burns. You can't cry. Not yet. Once you crack, you know that’s it. You won’t be able to stop. Your cheeks tug and you thank him, swallowing down the swell of horror.  

“Andy,” you eke out as the doctor leaves, “I couldn’t get through to my mom. Do you mind if I try again?” 

“Hm, I haven’t charged my phone,” he slides his cell from his pocket, “I’m at twelve percent. Could do the trick.” 

“Oh, maybe I could ask the nurse’s desk. I think I saw a patient phone around here.” 

“Good idea,” he nods. “I texted Jacob but I don’t think he has service up there. We’ll need to go grab some clothes so how about we do that today?” 

“I... I can’t leave my dad,” you insist. 

“Sweetheart, they said he’s going to be out for some time.” 

“He shouldn’t wake up alone,” you argue. 

“Alright,” he shows his palm appeasingly, “I’ll drive up, grab your stuff, and we’ll get everything else sorted when I get back.” 

“I can do this,” you avow, as much to yourself as him, “you’ve done enough.” 

“Right, I know, you’re a strong girl. But what do you do next? Once you talk to mom. You gotta call insurance, right? Do you have what they need? You’ll need the plan number, that’s probably in his wallet, right? You’ll at least need proof of ID. We brought him in in his trunks and nothing else. All that’s up at the cottage,” he shakes his head, “I don’t doubt you can handle it but a little help can’t hurt.” 

Your eyes widen and you sigh. You drag your hands down your cheek, “yeah...” 

“You can’t think of it all right now. That’s expected. You should worry about him. So I’ll deal with the details.” 

“Andy,” you utter, “I...” you look at your dad and get up, shuffling to his bedside. You take his hand, careful not to tug the tubes and tape, “I owe you.” 

“It’s what people do for each other, right? I’m a dad too. I know if anything happened to me, Jacob would be lost.” 

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” you crackle from your dry throat. 

“Try to rest if you can,” he sniffs and scratches his beard, “I’ll be quick. As quick as possible.” 

“Sure,” you squeeze your dad’s hand, barely hearing Andy. You just want him to wake up, or maybe you can wake up from this nightmare. 

🌅

You force yourself out of the room to ask the nurse about a phone. She points you towards a worn phone down a few halls meant for emergency calls. You punch in your mom’s number and wait for it to dial. It takes six tries for her to answer but you won’t give up this time. 

“Hey, what’s up?” She answers casually. 

You don’t answer right away. You can hear the lightness in her voice and the rustle of unknown movement. She’s busy with something or someone. Probably her latest fling. 

“Mom,” you scratch out, “it’s dad.” 

“What is it now? Tell me he’s not drank himself into the tank again. He’s too old for that.” 

“Mom,” you say firmer than before, “mom, he’s hurt.” 

“Hurt. Well, call the paramedics, I don’t know,” she giggles and you sigh. 

“We’re at the hospital,” you raise your voice, “he’s... he’s not awake. He hit his head. And I... I’m scared.” 

She’s silent. You hear her move around and she excuses herself. A door clicks on her end and she scoffs, “well, what do you want me to do about it? He’s your father.” 

You’re stunned by her callous response. 

“And I’m your daughter,” you insist, “what... you should...” you shake your head and deflate. “Well, mom,” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry I interrupted fun for something so stupid as this.” 

“Honey, please, I’m a bit shocked is all,” she squeaks, “I mean what can I do from so far away. For my ex-husband of all people? You’re an adult. You need to learn how to handle these things.” 

“Gee, thanks, mom,” you sneer and slam the phone on the hook. 

You don’t know why you expected any different. You’re not at her house because she told you plainly that she didn’t want you spoiling her fun. She gave up trying to be a parent the minute you turned eighteen. 

You roll your eyes back against a new wave of tears; these one angry. You guess you just need to grow up. It’s your turn to take care of your dad. 

[hyuny-bunny]

Hi Rose!

Can you do a fic where SKZ are in an interview and one of the questions for each of them is, "If you have a sister, whom would you want her to date?" And Minho vehemently objects to his metaphoric sister dating his friends, then notices Changbin looking all suspicious. Turns out Changbin has been chatting up Minho's cousin. Juicy, juicy.

Thank you! But please, please don't feel obligated if you're not comfy writing this, okay?

of course ! thank you so much for the request and i hope this does it justice :') i did tweak the details abit and kinda ran with it 😅. i hope not too much to disappoint. if you want something a little more spicy feel free to submit again and i can do a follow up pt 2☺️

i'll wait | C.B. ft minho

genre: fluff overload, friends to lovers, slow burn romance

content warning: cuteness overload, kissing, slightly upset minho, minho threatening to break changbin.

Minho had always been like an older brother to you. You weren't too far apart in age, you were glued to the hip at 3 and it's always been that way. Both sets of parents had to have a difficult talk with the two of you, explaining you weren't siblings. It didn't stop him referring to you as his sister and for you your brother.

Even during his time as a trainee, you were always there supporting. Whether it was dropping by the company building for a 15 minute break to have coffee and catch up, you'd always make time for him. When he was recruited by Chan to be a part of a group, you were ecstatic for him but your time together was cut down significantly when he went on to do the survival show.

After getting his big break to debut, he spent a lot of time out with his group doing street performances and advertising their group. You'd often join him with passing out flyers or just helping them record videos as they hadn't been supplied with staff just yet. You got more familiar with the rest of his group but you were always shy around them, not really knowing your place in how to interact with them.

Changbin and Jisung were the first ones you warmed up to. Han was always respectful but treated you like a friend, always making you feel comfortable around them. Changbin was much shyer with his approach. He found you pretty the moment Minho introduced you to all of them. He'd always crack jokes to you when you were around. Teasing your camera work when they were going back of their vlogs. It wasn't until one afternoon, you were supposed to be meeting Minho & Changbin for lunch, Minho had been running behind with his dance practice. This was the most nervous Changbin had felt in a long time, not even his performance review came close to he felt knowing he'd be alone with you until Minho would arrive.

All his worries washed away when he saw you sitting out on the terrace of that cafe. You were wearing a grey sweater with a black skirt. It was fall so the cold hadn't set it but he could see your legs shivering. Without thinking about it, he was already pulling his jacket off. He walked over to you seeing the way you beamed at him melted his heart.

"Here, for your legs." He extended the jacket out to you.

"Oh... it's fine, binnie," His heart skipped a beat at the nickname, "I'm not that cold! I don't want you getting cold either."

He cocked an eyebrow at you before laying the jacket over your lap himself, he didn't know where the confidence to do that came from. Your heart swooned at the gesture, your legs find a new found warmth from the heat that came from the worn jacket and the blood rushing in you. From that day on you had kept a close friendship to him, one Minho himself would've seen.

Much later down the line your friendship grew closer but never anything more. It wasn't until a few months before their new comeback, Changbin was stressing beyond belief. The pressure to have a big impact on the music charts this time around was getting to his head. He was practically calling you every night to talk. One night he couldn't take it anymore, he needed to see you. It was 2 in the morning, he was letting his legs were move and think for him.

He's standing at your door debating on whether or not to ring your bell, not a second is able to pass before you're already there opening the door. The next moment we're all a blur because once he's stepped into your apartment, his shoes kicked off, his lips are on yours. After a moment or so he stops, apologizing for not having asked for your permission but you're already pulling him back down to kiss him some more. After the night he swears off kissing, he wants to be able to date you properly. The other obstacle you face is your beloved cousin. You know the one who brought you two together, the one who doesn't know the details of your relationship with his group member.

From then, you both find time to sneak off for dates. Your dates mainly consist of eating dinner at his studio, or he's bringing you food to your place for a movie night. You're trying you best to make things work, away from prying eyes, deranged fans, and most importantly, from Minho.

The truth about the two of you comes spilling out suddenly and unexpectedly when SKZ is on a variety show. Their staff at this point had a vague idea of you relationship status to Binnie but it was unbeknownst to them that Minho did not know. Minho had invited you to come watch the variety show so you could all grab dinner afterwards. Things took a turn when the host was going around asking about the members siblings.

Lee Know candidly spoke about a cousin that was practically his sister, you could see Binnie glancing your way past the camera.

"Would any of you let your sisters date another member of the group?" The host asked.

Seung is the first to adamantly say 'no'. He's waving and shaking his head no in disgust, they're all laughing at his reaction but Minho soon joins in on him.

"Nope, never. Not happening, maybe when I'm dead." Minho deadpans looking across his members but his eyes land on Changbin who is dead staring at you.

He clocks it then. Minhos eyes are darting back and forth between you two. It takes Chan kicking the back of Changbins chair for him to snap out of his daze letting out a loud 'huh'. Minho's eyes are narrowed on him.

He knows something but he doesn't know for fact.

"Would you let your sister date any of the members?... Or better yet would you date any of the members sisters?" The host is laughing while repeating the question. Minho isn't laughing though.

Changbin flusters out a 'no' but his cheeks are a tint of pink now that he was caught staring you down. The filming wraps up and staff are asking the production to send them over the final product before they release it, just as an extra precaution. Minho says nothing when he brushes past you. He's pissed.

Shit maybe he does know.

You're standing out by your car waiting for Minho. It was supposed to be 4 of you. Jisung, Minho, Changbin, and you. You wave your goodbyes to rest of the members, finally seeing the three of them walking out together. You can tell Jisung is yapping about something based off the way he's moving his hands while talking. Changbin walks beside him head low and Minho walks on the opposite side of Han. He's staring you down all the way till he gets to you.

You're all standing outside the car but no one is moving.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Minho's never had such a cold tone with you, it makes you straighten up.

"I uh... We wanted to... I just..." You can't find the words but Changbin steps up.

"Take it out on me," He's stepped in between you two now. "We didn't know how to tell you, I asked to keep it quiet until the time came."

"And when was that time? Because I just had to find out in front an entire production crew and our staff. Was that your ideal time?" He's pissed but he's also hurt. Hurt that you would hide this from him.

"I'm sorry, Min. I am really. I was just scared that you wouldn't..."

"That I wouldn't what?" He snaps at you.

"You wouldn't approve of it."

beat

His eyes soften looking at you. He looks to Changbin.

"Do you love her?"

"I love her"

It was the first time you heard him say he loved you. It wasn't the way he imagined it going. Minho sighs looking at you again, he can tell it was your first time hearing this too.

"Okay.... If you so much as lay a hand on her or do anything to break her heart, i will break your fingers off one by one, and you'll never lift a weight again, got it?" Minho has a hand on his shoulder and a finger pointing in his face like a parent scolding a child.

Jisung has been stuck in same pose for the last 20 minutes with his jaw slack to the floor while clutching his hand over his heart. You're right there with him ever since you heard Changbin say 'I love her'.

Minho moves to open the car to put his bag in the back, unfortunately you're still frozen in place and haven't unlocked.

"You know the least you could do is feed me now?" He looks at you gesturing the car keys in hand. He grabs the keys from you to unlock the car now. He hugs you for a moment before patting changbin on the shoulder.

You look at Changbin who is matching the flush on your face. He kisses your forehead trying to bring you out of your state of shock.

" You know 'I love you, too' would've been nice to hear ," He laughs taking the keys and walking to the passenger side to usher you in "But I'll wait."

[gam3-b01]

winter

pairing(s): jeon wonwoo x reader

genre(s): angst

wc: ~1.3k

warnings: suggestive content (hankypanky related activities), just sad hours in general, minors dni just to be safe

(a/n: my first post on this blog, this was one of my earliest drafts and i needed to get it out of my system ahahsjdnd. the way some people might know who i am because i used the term hanky panky is concerning but also hilarious, if you see this i love you bro sorry for angst hours i stayed up too late to make sane decisions sorry i had to. song inspo for this fic is winter by two feet)

It's not a thing, right? This hasn't happened before.

But the familiarity with which you look up at him from under the covers slaps Wonwoo in the face before he has the time to process the content haziness clouding your eyes. His tense frame relaxes involuntarily, and he slips in beside you but not before checking your bare skin for any bruises he might have accidently left after almost soldering you to the mattress barely ten minutes ago. As he slips an arm around your middle and you tell him without any kindness whatsoever that his hands are way too cold for you (and that he should probably get checked for anaemia because, and he quotes, "even hell freezing over generates more fucking warmth than you do"), he realises he has to stop lying to himself and acknowledge the fact that realistically, this has actually definitely happened before.

This exact night, every single frame of it, happened last year. And the year before that. And the year before that one? No, the both of you were still together back then. Probably. What year was three years ago? Time was always a muddy, comically abstract concept when it came to each other for the both of you.

Maybe it would be easier for him to count the years winter to winter. Because when Wonwoo visits his hometown at the beginning of every December, a series of events occur. He sets his bags down at his place and spends the first week in radio silence recuperating with his family, ignoring the 20 odd messages he gets from Mingyu about his dog and updates (read: gossip) from their shared workplace. The next week usually is spent catching up with old friends mostly out of obligation, and the third week is occupied by Christmas. The fourth-ish week is when all of his friends asking about you begins to get to his head. By around the 28th of December, he's sick of lying awake in his childhood bed, staring at the ceiling as he tries to forget things that should never have happened in the first place. Eventually he sits up, runs a hand through his hair, puts on his glasses, and spritzes on something that you liked to call "sandalwood crack" before shrugging on his jacket and heading out.

Where to though? He pretends to think for a while before giving up. And when he steps into the bar after paying for his cab, he is never, ever surprised or secretly relieved when he spots you sitting in the stool furthest away from the air conditioning. You look wasted, but the soda cans strewn about you indicate otherwise. You've stopped drinking after the breakup. You're doing well with sobriety. He opens with that like the asshole he is, and you have the decency to cuss at him like a sailor and pass him a stool as you say something vaguely self-depreciating as a joke about the near-alcoholism you contracted back then. He opts for silence. And you ask him to take it easy despite him having opened the fire. Ever tolerant. Like the gentle undercurrents of a river (not like you didn't have a temper on you, you just tended to be nice when you saw him after long periods of time. Was it because you missed him? The mere thought had him shrivelling up a little inside). Wasn't he supposed to be the water sign between you both? He remembers the natal chart phase you had when you were nineteen, which reminds him you were his best friend of nine years before the both of you stopped talking. He expertly shoves that piece of information away before it tries to hurt him one more time.

(...What kind of best friend asks, no, begs him to leave and never contact them again? Maybe the kind whose best friend actually proceeded to do exactly that without ever putting up a fight? Fuck.)

Things somehow, without fail, end up leading you both to the nearest motel when one of you ends up saying something incredibly reckless and all the other person can do is gape hopelessly, words murdered in cold blood right when they were about to be bailed out from their throat. The rest of a night is a senseless, irresponsible blur, and then?

The rough part begins.

One of you is going to leave in the next thirty minutes if Wonwoo's doing his gut arithmetic right. He wished he sucked at math sometimes, he really did.

However, he blinks a bit. Something feels off, something feels different. You're not leaving (is it his turn this time..?). Instead, you're turning around, eyes vulnerable and still blown a little wide as you touch his hair with a flavour of fondness he could not imitate even if he tried his damndest to.

He freezes for only a second before his lips seek yours out of habit. He truly loathes the way he groans at how much it affects him, but what else is he supposed to do when he knows you're trying to hold back that little sound you make when you get desperate for him? He's almost willing to let you take the lead because he feels like his system is going into overdrive, willing to let you finally ruin whatever's left of him, but sanity prevails by a hanging thread as he takes back control from you with a firm hand on your jaw. His grip is gentle unlike earlier, and despite knowing you like it when he's mean to you, his eyes shine with something completely different when he breaks the kiss for a moment to take in everything he can about you right now and burn this anomaly into his memory.

(Because what else will he be ever be able to think of on every single cold, miserable night for many years to come after that look you gave him before he kissed you? That look that made it look like you still loved him, why did you have to do that?)

You're staring at him like you've been burned, and he's trying his absolute best not to flinch away when he sees raw, unabashed hurt begin to filter through your soft irises.

"Don't look at me like that." You start.

"Like what?"

"Like you-", you gulp nervously, eyes quickly losing the content sheen radiating off of you earlier.

"-like you actually want me or something."

Externally, the tenderness in his eyes is instantly replaced by whatever the fuck he usually looks like, but internally, he's trying his best not to scream. Your words are unfair, cruel even. How can the one person who knows him like the back of their hand not grasp the one fundamental truth that makes up his very core?

The alarm system inside his head built just for you tells him you feel sick, just like he does. He knows you've gleaned that much as well, and makes no effort to stop you as you slip out of the bed with the sheets hugging your chest in one fluid motion.

"I feel so sick, Wonwoo."

"I know."

Your heart is as tangled up as his is, and no matter how many times the both of you manage to land into each other's arms, neither of you seem to be capable of unravelling the other without tearing everything apart.

He watches you collect yourself before turning to him, face stone cold, with eyes that now look foreign to him as you deliver the parthian shot.

"I think that I should go."

[danikamariewrites]

Fake Sleeper

Eris x reader

A/n: just something cute with Eris. Also, I am participating in @erisweek2023 and I’m super excited about what I have planned!

Warnings: none

You had woken up before Eris, a rare occurrence, and instead of falling back to sleep like your body was screaming at you to do, you just stared at your mate. Admiring the morning sun lightning his freckles across his cheeks and the way his bare chest rose and fell in peaceful breaths.

Gods he was perfect, you just wanted to reach out to feel him, to make sure he was real and not a figment of your imagination. You wanted to trace the freckles on his face like when you would chart the stars on clear nights together.

But you didn’t want to disturb him. Sleep for Eris was a rarity these days. His workload had increased in the last few weeks so you were content to just let him be.

As your mind wandered you had come to the question of what Eris does when he wakes up before you. You know he gets dressed, trains, comes back, washes, dresses again, and then leaves.

But does he talk to himself? Does he leave a kiss on your forehead before he leaves your bed? What little noises does he make when he stretches when no one’s listening?

Curious about your mates habits you closed your eyes pretending to sleep. You knew Eris would be up soon so you had to look natural. As you relax back into your pillow you hear Eris begging to stir, pulling himself from sleep.

Eris lets out a groan and stretches his long body. You hear him crack his knuckles and sit up. His movements pause and you feel his eyes on you. You remind yourself not to break, to stay asleep and not crack a smile.

You feel Eris brush your hair back, then he leans down placing a long kiss on your forehead. He murmurs, “Good morning little fox.”

He pulls himself out of bed, his footsteps heading toward the bathroom. You take a risk and crack an eye open to watch him walk away.

As Eris finishes his morning routine and dresses you resume your fake sleep, making sure to move around a bit. He approaches your side of the bed, brushing a knuckle down your cheek placing another kiss on your forehead. This time he whispers, “I’ll be back, little fox. Like I promise every morning.”

You hear the door open and shut, straining your ears to listen to his footsteps get farther and farther away. Opening your eyes and smile to yourself. You felt absolutely giddy at the love Eris gave you even though you were asleep. Deciding you didn’t want to wait for him to come back after he has breakfast you get up.

Once you were dressed you headed down to the dining room, an extra pep in your step and a smile on your face. You take your usual seat that would normally be empty at this time. Eris should be done with training soon and you couldn’t wait to see his surprised face when he saw you.

Minutes later Eris, followed by his brother Cyrus, walks through the open double doors. Eris stops short, a wide smile growing on his face when he sees you. “Y/n! Good morning love, what are you doing up?” He asks joyfully.

You stand as he rushes over to you, pulling you into a crushing hug. “I woke up early and thought I’d have breakfast with you.” You smile up at him. Eris gives you a quick peck on your lips taking the seat next to you.

The conversation flows between the three of you. Joking and gossiping about court members. Eris wasn’t one to gossip but you loved talking about the latest drama with Cyrus. He was easily your favorite brother-in-law besides Lucien.

As you leisurely walk back to your room you hold onto Eris’ arm, resting your head against his bicep. You let out a content sigh, a smile gracing your lips as you think to yourself. “Why are you so smiley this morning little fox?” You blush at your favorite nickname and Eris pulls you closer.

“Just you. You make me happy.” “You make me happy, y/n.” He kisses the top of your head.

“I actually have a little confession to make.” Eris stares down at you curiously. “I was up before you this morning. I was pretending to sleep.” He stops in front of the door to your quarters, a shocked look on his face.

He laughs a little, sliding his hand into yours. “Why didn’t you say good morning?” “I wanted to see what you do every morning. Well, hear, since my eyes were closed.” Eris lets out another laugh, throwing his head back this time. “Was my morning interesting for you?”

You nod, rising up on your toes to kiss his freckled chee. “Yeah. It made me feel extra loved. Knowing that you kiss me and say goodbye. Do you really do that every morning?”

Eris wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into him. You wrap yours around his neck as he leans down to kiss you. It was soft yet passionate. “Every morning.”

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Haunted

Mark Sloan x Reader

Summary: Mark Sloan finally finds where his wife had been hiding

Warnings: Angst, cheating, mild smut, Addison has poison oak, medical talk, death

Word Count: 5.7K

Masterlist

I sat in the foyer of the beautiful brownstone Mark has bought us, seething. I had arrived home after a long 30-hour shift, just wanting to relax with my husband but I had instead received a call from Derek delivering the worst news of my life.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Derek, everything okay?” I asked, concerned at his strained voice.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

My heart crawled into my throat. What could have possibly happened to warrant this much concern from him? Has Addison been hurt? Had Mark? “What? Derek, you’re scaring me.”

After a pause, he spoke again. “I just found Mark in bed with Addison.” My entire body felt like it had filled with ice. I knew Addison and Derek had been on the rocks for a while but I thought Mark and I were solid. “I’m leaving, tonight, for Seattle. I have an old friend out there who’s gonna make me the head of neurosurgery. I know it’s sudden and you’re dealing with a lot right now but I’m happy to bring you out there.”

Tears pricked in my eyes, I felt so helpless. “Derek, I’m a second year resident, I can’t just up and move to a different program.”

“Richard, the chief of surgery at Seattle Grace, will help you. You may be set back a year but what’s the alternative?”

I thought for a second. I could stay here and try to work things out with Mark but I knew I’d never be able to look at or trust him again. I could break up with him and stay here but knowing him he’d never leave me in peace. My best option would be to flee. “You’re right. I’ll meet you at the Starbucks across from JFK?”

“I’ll see you there. And Y/N? I really am sorry that this happened to you.”

“I’m sorry it happened to you too.”

I had packed only the essentials into a duffle bag that sat next to me as I waited for Mark to get back to his home. My beautiful rings sat on the coffee table between me and the door, clearly visible from the doorway.

Mark had a devastated look on his face even before he opened the door. His face dropped even further when he saw my expression along with my rings on the table. “Y/N-”

“Don’t,” I interrupted. “I want a divorce,” I asked calmly, picking up my bag to walk out.

But Mark stood his ground, continuing to stand in front of the doorway. “Can we at least talk about this?”

“Why? Nothing you could possibly say could make this better or make me not hate you. You hurt your best friend and your wife,” the tears were falling now. “You threw away our entire relationship for what? So you could hurt Derek? You just had to have Addison? You wanted to hurt me?”

“No, no,” Mark protested, his own voice cracking. “Addison wanted to hurt Derek and well… I wasn’t thinking.”

“‘I wasn’t thinking?’ That’s a pathetic excuse.” I moved to walk past him but he grabbed my arm, yanking me back in front of him, moving to further block the door.

“You promised to love me for better or worse, Y/N Sloan. Well, this is worse. You made a vow.”

“You also vowed to love and honor me,” I threw back.

His grip slackened enough for me to remove my arm from his grip so I continued towards the door. But before I could step out into the night, Mark spoke again. “At least tell me where you’re going?”

I sighed. “Derek and I are getting hotel rooms for a little while,” I lied. Not wanting him to ask me anymore, I slammed the door shut, quickly hailing a taxi.

~

I stood at the nurses’ station, filling out charts when Alex came up next to me, grabbing a chart from one of the nurses. “Your patient in 402 is demanding your presence,” I told him.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “She’s been demanding ridiculous things all day. I’ve got a surgery I need to study for.”

“Oh yeah? Tell you what, I’ll take this patient off your hands if you take my ruptured abscess.”

Alex stopped to think for a second before reaching his hand out. “Deal.” I smiled, eager to switch when suddenly a fist came out of nowhere, hitting Karev in the face. I whipped my head around, horrified to see Mark.

“What are you doing with my wife?” he yelled down at a still slightly dazed Alex.

“Mark! What the hell?” I demanded.

But before Mark could speak, Alex was up and lunging at Mark. Noticing him, I stepped between the two men, stupidly, getting myself tackled into Mark’s chest in the process. The rest of the hospital had finally realized what was going on as they pulled Alex away, Izzie trying to calm him down.

Realizing I was still in my ex-husband's arms, I pulled myself away from him. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Addison told me.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know of all the ways you could’ve found me, that is the last one I would have wanted to hear.”

“Y/N, please, just hear me out,” he begged.

I sighed, “Fine. But after I listen and make a decision, I want you out of my life forever.” Mark looked like he wanted to argue but nodded nonetheless. So I led him to an on-call room for privacy. He smiled upon entering the room. “I remember these from my residency. Or when I’d have a surgery with you at New York Presbyterian,” he flirted, stepping closer to me.

I pressed my hand against his chest, pushing him away. “Don’t. Just say what you need to say.”

He looked disappointed at my rejection but spoke anyways. “First, I want to apologize. What I did was unforgivable and it was just a moment of weakness. I love you, I always have and I always will. These past few months have been hell and everyone refused to tell me where you were.” He paused, waiting for my response but I just quirked an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. “Look, I want you back. I’ve been wanting you back ever since… well Addison and I… anyways. Please, I can’t do this without you, come home.” He then pulled out my engagement and wedding rings and I noticed for the first time he was still wearing his ring. “You’re still my wife, Y/N Sloan.”

I took a shaky breath. “My name is L/N and the only reason we’re not legally divorced is because I didn’t want you to know where I was. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.”

“Babe, please-”

“Don’t call me babe. I have work I have to do.” I went to move past him but he grabbed my arm again, just like he did all those months ago.

“No, we’re gonna makeup,” he insisted. He pulled me in front of him again, peering down at my face. “God, you’re more beautiful than I remembered.” I remembered lines like that from early on in our relationship. They used to make me melt… I shook off any feelings from the past, trying to steel myself against my husband’s charms that would make me putty in his hand in an instant. His hand slipped under my jaw, cupping my face, fitting perfectly just like back when I thought we were made for each other. And then his lips found mine and I was gone.

I felt his other arm slip around my waist and he pulled me closer to him. Feeling my resolve slip, I brought my hands to my husband’s face and neck, kissing him back. Noticing my reciprocity, Mark lifted me slightly, bringing me to the bed. He laid me down gently, careful to not put too much weight on me. With practiced hands, he went straight for my scrub pants. Neither of us were strangers to hookups in on-call rooms. Mark and Derek had their own practice back in New York but he’d have to come to my hospital for the ORs and he’d always drag me into the on-call rooms before surgery and sometimes after.

I made no moves to undress him, a quiet voice in my mind screaming for me to stop but I ignored it. Mark didn’t seem to mind though as he pulled down his own pants and moved his lips down to my neck. It took everything in me not to moan as he hit the parts of my body that made my toes curl.

He groaned when he finally sheathed himself inside of me. “Oh my god, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, gripping the sheets next to my head. “You haven’t been with anyone else?”

“No,” I answered, fighting out pleased sounds. Truthfully I was still in love with Mark and I didn’t want to hurt him, especially the way he had hurt me. Even though I had proclaimed that we were over, sleeping with someone else would still feel like cheating. “Have you?”

“No, no of course not. It’s you, it’s always been you, it will always be you,” he professed, continuing to thrust in and out of me. He was cupping my face again and trying to look deeply into my eyes but I refused to meet his gaze. Instead just looking up at the bunk above us, focusing on making it seem like I wasn’t enjoying this. Fortunately, he gave me the decency of nuzzling his face into my neck so I wouldn’t have to avoid his gaze.

He continued pumping in and out deep, and slowly, his fingers nestled against my clit, moving in the way he knew I liked. I was gone in about two minutes, embarrassment creeping up my neck and face at being at Mark’s mercy. I could feel him smirk into my throat as he chased his own release, finishing shortly after me.

The second he did, I was pushing him off of me, hiking my pants back up around my hips. “Babe,” he protested as I headed for the door.

“I have work to do,” I explained, not even sparing him a glance. “And don’t call me babe.”

I rushed out of the on-call room, intent on finding Alex’s whiny patient but I ran into Derek first. “Y/N, I heard about Mark, are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. Told him to fuck off,” I rushed out.

“Why’d he punch Karev?”

“I think he thought we were flirting or something. I don’t know, didn’t bother to ask.” I tried to move past him but the sound of the door I just came through opening, stopped me.

“Mark,” I heard Derek say in shock. He looked between Mark and I and the on-call room we just came out of. Mark was wearing a proud smirk and I knew it was over for my decency. So in Derek’s surprise, I took the opportunity to slip away.

~

“Y/N Sloan, to the nurses’ station. Dr. Y/N Sloan to the nurses’ station,” the intercoms rang out across the dining quad.

“Are you the Sloan they’ve been calling all day?” Cristina asked as she approached the table along with Meredith, Izzie, and George. “I didn’t even know they still used these intercoms. Why don’t they just page you?”

I groaned, looking at Izzie, who was there to witness Mark’s outburst. “Because my ex-husband is trying to humiliate me into talking to him.”

“Wait, you’re married?” George sputtered out.

“Ex,” I clarified.

“But he called you his wife?” Izzie clarified. “Who is he? What happened? Why’d he punch Alex?”

I sighed, not wanting to tell them. But I knew they’d never stop asking and soon enough my business would be all over the hospital, might as well get control of the story. “Fine. That guy? That’s my husband, Mark Sloan. We’re not legally divorced but we will be soon.”

“Wait, you’re married to Derek’s ex-best friend?” Meredith asked.

“You’re married to plastic surgery god Mark Sloan?” Cristina asked at the same time.

“Yes, and yes. Mark and I met while I was finishing up in undergrad. We got married after two years and then three years later Derek finds him in bed with Addison. So I kind of fled New York in the middle of the night with Derek. Mark is here now because Addison finally told him where I am in order to beg for me to go back. As for the punch, I don’t know, probably thought Alex and I were flirting or something. He was always a little possessive.” George scoffed a little at that.

“So you’re married to McSteamy?” Izzie mused. “I did not see that coming.”

I set down my fork. “Did you just call my cheating husband ‘McSteamy?’”

“Yeah she did,” Cristina jumped in. “Can’t say I blame her, or Addison, or you.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname. “So I guess I’m still just as pathetic as you?” I smiled at Meredith.

“Welcome to the club of getting screwed over by attendings.”

“He’s not an attending, he’s leaving as soon as possible,” I insisted. The rest of them stared at me. “What?”

“You know that lionitis patient? Dr. Sloan offered his services. The Chief offered him head of plastics on the spot and he took it. Said he wanted to be close to his wife, which I now realize is you,” George explained.

I stared at him with wide eyes. “No, no he is not staying here,” I seethed. Standing up, I began to storm towards the surgical floor’s nurses’ station, knowing that’s where he’d be.

I stormed up to the nurses’ station, finding Mark speaking with the Chief. “Mark, stop paging me!”

“Then don’t fuck me and immediately walk away,” he countered.

My eyes widened, shocked at his words. I glanced over at Dr. Webber, blood rushing to my face, mortified. He choked a little, excusing himself. “What the hell was that?” I demanded in a whisper yell. “First you punch one of my friends and now this?”

“What? God forbid people know that a man has sex with his wife?” I shushed him again. “And I can’t defend my wife either?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not your wife.”

“Yes you are, neither of us have signed divorce papers.”

“Okay fine, but not for long. I’m going to see a lawyer when I’m done with work so you may as well get used to not being married anymore.”

“I can’t call you my wife, or babe, or your legal name. What should I call you?”

“Nothing, leave me alone. Tell the chief you can’t stay.” I whirled around, intent to walk away when Mark called after me.

“I won’t sign them.” I stopped dead in my tracks. Turning around, I looked at him. “I won’t let one mistake end our marriage.”

“It wasn’t one mistake. Are you saying you accidentally went to the Shepherds’ house? Accidentally started taking your clothes off? Accidentally took of Addison’s? And then your only mistake was to sleep with her? No, you made a hundred choices to cheat on me. So please Mark, give me mercy and leave me with a shred of decency to sign the papers and then leave. Do you know how much you’ve humiliated me?”

“Just give me three months. Three months to win you back. If you still hate me, I’ll sign the papers and go back to New York.”

“No.”

“Come on, you wanna throw away 5 years in one night? Three months.”

I sighed. “One date.”

“Two months.”

“A week.”

“A month.”

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “One month.”

Mark smiled victoriously, “A month.”

~

It was about 3 am and I had just wrapped up on an emergency heart surgery. I was the last resident to leave so I had the locker room completely to myself. At least, I did until I heard the door swing open. Assuming it was just some other exhausted resident I didn’t bother to turn around until I felt familiar arms wrap around my waist. I turned my head slightly, my cheek brushing against Mark’s lips. “You were amazing in that surgery,” he murmured.

“Thanks,” I dismissed, continuing to sort through my bag.

“You really are such a gifted surgeon. You know what specialty you want yet? You’ve got the face and skill for plastics.”

“You know this is the residents’ lounge, right?” I changed the subject. “Attendings’ is down the hall.”

“I like this one better. It has you in it.” I rolled my eyes at that pickup line. “So, I was thinking you and I could get dinner together. Catch up. Get late night takeout from whatever was open like we used to.” I had to admit, I had missed those late night takeout sessions… and Mark. The worst part was that I missed my husband.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I dismissed, twisting out of his arms.

“Y/N, our deal only works if you give me a fair shot.”

I sighed again, admittedly he was right. “Fine, we can get dinner, or I guess really early breakfast.”

Mark smirked victoriously again. “One of the other residents told me about this 24 hour place that has sandwiches.”

~

Mark opened the door to his hotel room, letting me step in. It was lavish, Mark having never shied away from the finer things in life. Mark stepped towards the desk, setting down the bag of sandwiches and sitting in the chair. Leaving me to take a seat, cross-legged on the bed. He handed me my sandwich that I eagerly opened, having not eaten anything in 6 hours. “So what’ve you been up to the last few months?”

“Work,” I answered bluntly. It was an honest and complete answer. I had to restart my second year of residency when I moved so I was barely above the bottom of the surgical food chain. “And all the residents in my year were already cliquey so my only friends are interns.”

“Richard told me you run with the girl Derek fell in love with.”

“Yeah, Meredith Grey. Now I’m the other girl who got screwed over by an attending,” I teased lightly.

He chuckled embarrassedly. “Yeah, well, sorry about that.”

“You know, when I first found out, I couldn’t wait to hear you grovel. But you’ve apologized to me so many times it’s like nails on a chalk board.”

“Sor-” Mark began but he pursed his lips when he saw my expression. “So that guy I punched? What’s up with him?”

“Beyond being a sometimes decent coworker? Nothing. But you should apologize to him, for me. He wants to go into plastics and I think you punching him threw a wrench into that plan. And as long as he’s not still pissed at you, I think he’d love to learn from you.”

“You’re going awfully out of your way for the guy that is ‘sometimes a decent coworker.’”

I sent Mark a tired look. “Are you actually going there right now?”

“I guess I don’t have much of a leg to stand on when it comes to this,” he said shyly, realizing his mistake.

“Ya think?” I asked sarcastically. “So what’ve you been doing?”

“Well when you first left I stopped working for a while. I poured everything into finding you… and admittedly a bottle. I was a mess, I couldn’t eat or sleep. All I really did was drink and beg for people to tell me where you were. But after like a month I finally gave up and went back to working. I did nothing but work for 4 months. Then… Addison called, said she was in Seattle with you and Derek and I was on the next flight here. I had to fly economy because there were no first class seats available,” he said with disgust.

“Oh the horror,” I laughed.

We fell into a comfortable silence and it felt almost like back when we were still happily married. The silence was first broken by my yawn since I had now been up for 20 hours. “I miss you,” Mark admitted. “I miss your smile, your laugh, your kindness. I miss how cute you are when you’re tired. How you used to come home and collapse into bed with me. I miss your cooking and how you said it was the next best thing to surgery.” He scooted his chair closer so he could grab my hands which had been sitting limply in my lap. “I miss your hands,” he kissed them, “and your legs, and your hair, and your eyes, and your nose, and your lips,” he punctuated each body part with a kiss there. But it was finally the kiss on my lips that made me snap out of Mark’s trance.

“No,” I said, pushing away. “Earlier was a moment of weakness, a mistake.”

“Ahah, so sleeping with someone is one mistake?” he beamed. “And a moment of weakness is just that, a moment.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. He had been so sweet and apologetic, now he was trying to get off the hook? “This afternoon wasn’t like you and Addison at all. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew I’d regret it but I chose to anyway. And when I sleep with you I’m the only one getting hurt. I wasn’t cheating.” He looked dejected, realizing I was right and he couldn’t get out of this on a technicality. “I’m going,” I declared, moving to get off the bed.

“Y/N, you have work in two hours and we’re right across the street from the hospital. Sleep here.”

“You’re that eager to get me into your bed?” I scoffed.

“Look, I’ll sleep on the floor if that makes you feel better but I’m not letting you leave.”

“Fine,” I agreed, crawling up to the head of the bed to slip under the covers. Mark grabbed one of the many pillows from the bed, throwing it down onto the floor. As he laid down it dawned on me that he didn’t have a blanket. Feeling bad, I spoke. “Get up here.”

Mark didn’t have to be told twice as he quickly slipped under the sheets. But as soon as he did, I was turned the other way, refusing to acknowledge him further. “Goodnight,” he wished me as he turned off the lamp.

~

In the morning I woke up the same way I used to, the same way I had been missing for the past 5 months. My head was rested on Mark’s chest, his arms wrapped around me, and his lips murmuring against my ear that it was time to get up. Upon regaining my senses, I jumped out of bed, trying to find my shoes and jacket. Being back in his arms made me realize how much I had missed him but I couldn’t afford to slip back into those old habits.

“So am I just a bed warmer to you?” Mark asked from his spot in bed, watching me get ready. “I mean I’m fine with it if that’s all you’ll give me but I’d just like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

I sent him an eyeroll. “No, I just felt bad for you. Thanks for the wakeup, by the way,” I thanked, checking my watch to see I’d be right on time.

“Of course. What else are husbands for?”

I took a breath, not wanting to encourage him. “Bye.”

“I’m actually headed there myself, gonna operate on the lionitis kid. You wanna scrub in?”

“Are you actually trying to buy my love with surgeries?”

“It worked last time,” he laughed. “Well, you were still in school so more like homework answers but it still worked.”

I laughed, dismissively shaking my head, “I’ll see you later.”

~

Cristina, Alex, and I were waiting around the main nurses’ station, waiting for our assignments for the day. “How’s your face?” I asked Alex.

“Fine, I’ve taken worse,” he answered casually.

“Only reason he’s not mad is because he wants to kiss the plastics god’s ass,” Cristina teased.

“Shut up,” was all he said, offering no other defense for himself.

Fortunately for him Cristina couldn’t prod anymore because Derek was approaching. “You three, you’re assisting with Jake Burton today. Come with me,” he called, barely stopping to talk to us. We all scurried after him as we headed towards his room. Upon entering we found Mark drawing on the kid’s face.

“Dr. Sloan,” Derek interrupted him. “Don’t you think this is unnecessary?”

Mark gave him an annoyed look but before he could say anything, the parents spoke up. “We talked with Dr. Sloan and Jake, we’ve decided we’ll go ahead with the facial reconstruction.”

Derek pursed his lips, annoyed. I knew that about half a year ago Derek wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in on this joint surgery. It’s what their practice had been built on but now Derek was letting his feelings get in the way of patient care. “Fine, doctors,” he looked at the three of us and Mark, “come with me.”

We all shuffled out after him except for Mark who seemed to begrudgingly storm after Derek. “You have no right to undermine me in front of patients like that,” Mark immediately began.

“You’re a guest at this hospital, an unwelcome one at that. You have no right offering surgeries to patients— my patient.”

“Did you already forget that Webber made me Head of Plastics? You’re not the only surgeon with a fancy contract anymore,” Mark shot back.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Fine, Karev, you’re with Dr. Sloan.”

“Actually I’d like the other Dr. Sloan-” I sent him a glare, “Dr. L/N. The Chief gave me full authority to use whatever resources I need for this surgery.”

“She’s not some tool you get to use. Or something to play with whenever you feel like it. Is that what our marriages were to you? Something you could break when it suited you?”

“Dr. Shepherd!” I interrupted. “I appreciate that you’re trying to defend my honor but I don’t need you to. Besides you really want to do this here?” I gestured to all the people watching us. “Alex, you go with Dr. Sloan, I’ll go find something else to work on,” I dismissed, heading down to the pit.

As I was waiting for the elevator, I saw one of the last people I wanted to interact with. Addison stumbled towards me, looking like she had a squirrel in her pants. “Dr. L/N, I know we’re not exactly on the best of terms right now but I need a consult.” I looked at her, confused. We had worked on a few cases together perfectly civil. “I need a consult,” she clarified.

Catching her inflection and the fact that she was clearly uncomfortable, my mouth formed an O. “I see, c’mon, we’ll go to one of the private exam rooms.”

“Ah thank you,” she sighed in relief.

Upon having Addison in the stirrups and her explanation of her morning walk, I knew exactly what she was suffering from. “Yep, poison oak in probably the worst place you could have it,” I confirmed her suspicions.

She groaned, lying back on the table. “I guess this is karma.”

“You could say so,” I laughed gently. “I’ll get the calamine lotion and don’t worry, you have my discretion.” I grabbed the lotion from a storage closet, retuning to Addison.

“How come you don’t hate me?” she asked as I began to get to work. “Even my own husband, who chose to stay married to me, hates me.”

I sighed, “I don’t know. I did hate you, maybe I still do. But Derek can really hold a grudge so maybe that’s why I look so forgiving in comparison. But I have a hard time hating and turning my back on the people who were my family, even if they hurt me in the worst way possible.”

“I really am sorry. Mark and I, we regret everything.”

“I’m so sick of apologies. Do you know how many times Mark said he was sorry yesterday?”

“I heard he was here. And that he punched one of your friends, Karev.”

“Yeah, always been a bit possessive. Of course that’s painfully ironic now,” I laughed bitterly. “Alright, that’s as much as I can do for you right now. Apply more tonight.”

~

“Hey,” I heard Mark’s gruff voice gently coax me out of my thoughts. I turned, finding him in scrubs, his surgical gown open and flowing behind him. He always looked so good in scrubs.

“Hey,” I replied. “I heard about Jake. I’m so sorry.” Cristina had told me that the lionitis patient had died almost immediately after Derek had opened his head up. I felt bad for the kid, he had been so excited for a normal face.

He shrugged, taking a seat next to me. He sighed, pulling off his scrub cap. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t give him a sense of normalcy. But I talked to his parents, they said I could still do the surgery post mortem so he could be buried the way he wanted. Wanna help?”

I thought for a second. On one hand I didn’t want to continue to entertain the idea that Mark had a chance with me. On the other I needed to cut so desperately. “Sure, why not?”

He smiled. “Atta girl.”

We went down to the autopsy room in order to do the procedure and I had to admit it felt nice. I used to love performing surgery with Mark. It was always a comfortable silence while we worked together and when we did talk it was easy. Moments like this and memories of moments like this made it so hard to stop loving him. As we worked quietly I really thought for the first time since he came here. I had never really stopped loving him and even though I never wanted to see him again, a small part of me was relieved he tried so hard to find me and now he’s fighting for me.

By the time Jake’s parents came down to see him I was an emotional wreck. Seeing them grieve for their son made me burst. “I’m sorry,” I choked, stepping into a back room.

Mark was beside me in a second, closing the door for privacy. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, a distressed look on his face. I just crossed my arms, looking at the floor, trying to force down my emotions. I wanted to be strong enough to not tell him how I felt but I felt his finger underneath my chin. He pulled my face up to meet his concerned eyes. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me.”

I swallowed harshly, unwilling to tell him. “I miss you,” I relented. “I miss us. I am haunted by you. I didn’t even realize I still loved you until you showed up. But it hurts. It hurts to love and miss you because you hurt me.” I could feel the tears slipping down my face and my throat straining against the sobs. “You hurt me so bad, Mark, and now I can’t trust you. I used to say that cheating is it, I’d never be able to forgive cheating but the worst part is that I want to forgive you. And I can’t forgive you and love you and still have any self respect.”

“C’mere,” Mark sighed, pulling me into a hug. I broke down, sobbing into his chest. “Sleeping with Addison was a mistake, one I fully own up to and take responsibility for. And I’m gonna tell you this not because I want you to feel bad or I think you should have any of the blame but the reason I did it was because I wanted you to notice me. You were at the hospital all the time and I knew then, and know now, that that wasn’t your choice. I guess it was just hard for me to see you be independent because it felt like you were so dependent on me for so long and I liked that you needed me. And I’m sorry for trying to hold you back and for hurting you in order to hold you back but please, let me help you grow and succeed now. That’s all I want in the world.”

“Promise not to hurt me again,” I demanded.

“I promise. You have my full permission to cut off my testicles if I do.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “I’m in, Mark. I’m in it to make our marriage work.” I tilted my head up to look at him as I spoke.

“Thank you,” he beamed in relief. “Thank you,” he repeated in a relieved whisper.

Masterlist

[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe

Trust and believe me

You're gonna need me

Trust and believe me

She'll never be me

Authors note: I’m nervous as hell! This is my first time writing…well I mean publishing one of the many stories that I’ve written in my Google docs on here. This is one of my goals for 2025. So let’s see how it works out for me. Enjoy.

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

TMZ EXCLUSIVE

KEYSHIA ANOA’I

ARRESTED FOR ASSAULTING WOMAN

In Roman Reigns's Penthouse

Keyshia Anoa’i spent a not-so-pleasant Monday morning in jail ... after allegedly assaulting a woman who apparently spent the night with Keyshia's husband WWE wrestler Roman Reigns.

Keyshia showed up at the swanky penthouse building in Miami at around 5 AM. We're told she came to Miami to surprise her husband after being on tour for two months.

Our sources say ... she got into the penthouse and she saw another woman and went nuts.

We're told Keyshia attacked her ... leaving scratches and knots all over her face. Cops were called ... and Keyshia was arrested for battery.

She was just released on $46,000 bail, which her husband paid.

We called Reigns and Keyshia's reps ... so far no comment.

Keyshia Anoa'i, a soulful R&B singer with a string of chart-topping hits, had always prided herself on her relationship with Joe Anoa'i, better known to the world as WWE wrestler Roman Reigns. Since their marriage in 2010, they had built a life together—one that, from the outside, appeared perfect. On the surface, they were the picture of success and love, navigating the pressures of their high-profile careers while raising a family. But as the years went by, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The more their careers flourished, the more the distance between them seemed to grow.

Joe’s career as Roman Reigns had skyrocketed. His fame and schedule with WWE meant long stretches of time on the road, and his larger-than-life persona brought both admiration and envy from fans and fellow wrestlers alike. Keyshia, on the other hand, had continued her journey as a chart-topping artist. Touring, recording, and engaging with her fans had become a huge part of her life, but it also meant being away from Joe for extended periods.

The couple's physical separation, driven by the demands of their respective careers, slowly became emotional as well. What started as occasional misunderstandings soon evolved into deeper issues. Trust, communication, and intimacy—key components of any relationship—were fraying at the edges. Joe’s long absences and late-night workouts at the gym were often coupled with his refusal to share much about his personal life. He bought a penthouse in Miami without consulting Keyshia first, something that, in hindsight, symbolized the growing distance between them. He would justify it as his need for space, a private place to unwind after a grueling schedule. Keyshia didn’t think much of it at first, but deep down, it only served to fuel the quiet fire of suspicion she had begun to feel.

Over time, those suspicions grew. Keyshia had always trusted Joe, but there was something about his behavior that began to feel off. His late nights, his constant phone calls, and his cryptic responses when asked about his time away made her wonder if there was something more going on. It was the kind of feeling that gnawed at her insides—a woman's intuition that something wasn’t right. She had asked him about it a few times, but each time, Joe brushed her off, assuring her there was nothing to worry about. But Keyshia’s gut told her otherwise.

On the night in question, Keyshia had just finished her twentieth show as a part of her five-month tour, Trust and Believe Tour, and decided to surprise Joe at his Miami penthouse. She was exhausted, but her mind was consumed with thoughts of reconnecting with her husband, of finding a sense of closeness that had been missing for so long. She’d gotten a few days off and felt it was the perfect opportunity to show him how much she still cared. However, what she didn’t know was that Joe had been keeping secrets—secrets that would soon be laid bare in a shocking way.

Keyshia arrived at the penthouse, a place she had visited only occasionally over the years. She felt a flutter of excitement as she stepped out of the car and walked toward the building. She imagined the surprise on Joe’s face when he opened the door to see her. Perhaps they would have a romantic evening, catch up on lost time, and rebuild the emotional connection they had once shared. But as she approached the door and inserted the key card, everything changed in an instant.

Keyshia stepped into the penthouse and froze. The sight before her took the breath right out of her chest. There, in the living room, was Joe—her husband—sitting on the couch with another woman. The woman was leaning into him, and Joe appeared to be speaking to her in a way that was far too intimate for a simple friendship. The woman’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of Keyshia, and Keyshia’s heart dropped. The floor beneath her seemed to disappear, and all at once, years of confusion, pain, and suspicion crashed down on her.

Her first instinct was to confront Joe, but the anger that surged within her was overwhelming. She felt her fists clench at her sides, and before she could think, she marched toward the woman and pushed her away from Joe. In the heat of the moment, words failed her, and all she could do was physically lash out. She slapped the woman’s face, threw punches, and clawed at her in a fit of rage. The betrayal, the hurt, the disbelief—all of it culminated in an uncontrollable outburst. Keyshia wasn’t thinking about the consequences; she was thinking only about the woman sitting with her husband, a woman who had crossed a line that Keyshia had never expected.

The woman screamed in surprise and tried to back away, but Keyshia was relentless, shoving her toward the door, her hands swiping and scratching. "Stay the fuck away from my man," Keyshia spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I better not evee catch you around my husbans again! Slut bucket!"

In the chaos, Joe stood up, trying to intervene, his voice raised in an attempt to calm the situation. But the damage had already been done. A neighbor heard the commotion and called the police, who arrived shortly afterward to find Keyshia still at the scene, her emotions running wild. The officers quickly subdued her, arresting her for misdemeanor battery. The police report would later note that Keyshia had struck the woman multiple times and caused visible scratches on her face. As the cuffs were placed on her wrists, Keyshia’s mind was a swirl of emotions—confusion, anger, and heartbreak. It wasn’t just the sight of Joe with another woman that cut her so deeply, but the years of tension that had been building up between them. This, she realized, was the breaking point.

At the police station, Keyshia was left alone in a holding cell for what felt like an eternity. The time felt like a blur, and every second she spent behind those bars was another moment for her emotions to spiral. She had always been known for her composed and graceful persona in the public eye, but here she was—gripped by raw emotion, fighting to make sense of the man she had married, the man who had been her partner for over a decade. Joe had always been her rock, her protector. But in that moment, he had shattered her trust in a way that felt irreparable.

Hours later, Joe arrived at the police station to bail her out. He appeared tired, his usually sharp features softened by concern and frustration. His presence was both comforting and maddening. He had been the one to create this mess, yet now he was here, trying to smooth things over as though nothing had happened. When Keyshia saw him, her anger flared up once more, but she fought to control it. She had no idea what she was supposed to feel at that moment—anger at Joe, at the woman, at herself—or a combination of all of it.

"Keyshia, you can’t keep doing this," Joe said softly, his voice strained as they walked out of the police department together.

"You’re telling me what to do? You’re the one cheating while I’m on tour, Joe!" Keyshia snapped, getting right up in his face. Her voice was trembling, but it was also fierce. Every word she spoke was filled with pain. How could he do this to her? To their family? She had trusted him, loved him, and this was how he repaid her?

Joe sighed, his frustration evident. "Chill, we ain’t even leave the police department yet."

Keyshia’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again. She wanted to scream, to hit him, but instead, she just exhaled deeply, the fight leaving her body as quickly as it had come. She felt drained, emotionally and physically. She had never imagined that their love story would end up like this, not in a million years.

The drive back to Joe’s penthouse was silent, filled only with the sound of the engine humming in the background. Keyshia stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts, while Joe kept his eyes on the road. There was no quick fix for what had happened, no simple apology that could erase the betrayal Keyshia had felt. But as the minutes passed, she couldn’t help but wonder: Could they find their way back from this? Was there still hope for them? Or had the damage been done beyond repair?

For Keyshia, the road ahead was uncertain. The life she had built with Joe, a life she had once believed in so fully, now felt like a house of cards, teetering on the edge of collapse. Would they find a way to rebuild, or would this be the end of their story? Only time would tell.

[lisacameron99]

Could you make a Jack Gibson x female reader one-shot, can it be smut?? Also can the doctor work at Grey Sloan as a surgeon, I know that is irrelevant but whatever.

Just Us? J.G.

Warnings: kissing, smut, angst, piv, situationship turned relationship, Jack kinda being an idiot but loveable, swearing, smut with plot

"What?" I said, staring at him blankly.

"I kissed Vic." I blinked at him for a moment before turning on my heels and walking away, fast. "It's not what you think -"

"Ohhh, you do not get to tell me what to think." I snapped at him, grabbing a tablet, logging in and looking at a chart.

"Okay, you're right. Bad choice of words." He admitted. "I don't know what to say."

"I didn't ask you to say anything." I snapped, anger flooding my body.

"In my defense, she also kissed me." I stared at him, was he kidding me? "And - and we aren't together, not - not technically, you and me, and I think Vic's going to tell Theo and - and it was a mistake, we were drunk and it's not going anywhere - and I can tell that none of what I'm saying is right and I'm just making it worse and - and."

"Stop talking." I told him.

"I can do that." We stared at each other, blue eyes clashing against mine.

"Sloan, we have a trauma." Owen Hunt told me, saving me from the bell.

"I have to go," I told Jack, trying to follow Owen to the pit.

"Can we please talk about this?" Jack pleaded.

"Not right now." He grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me back. "I'm so mad at you right now Jack. I need to work, okay? I need to think and I can't do that when you're looking at me." I rushed off to follow Owen.

"Wanna talk about it?" Owen asked as we gowned and gloved.

"Nope."

"You good to work?"

"Yep."

"Let's do this."

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

After a very long shift, losing two patient, talking to both the police and Bailey about what happened, I changed my clothes and walked out of the hospital. I froze when I saw Jack leaning against my car. I pushed the hair out of my face and my shoulders slumped. I didn't want to fight with him, I wanted to go home and cry.

"I just want to go home," I told him, putting my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying, but it didn't work.

"Okay," He pulled me into a hug. I leaned against him as he wrapped me into a hug. "Okay."

I cried, "I just want to go home."

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

Thankfully, Jack and I both had the next two days off. Jack drove us to my apartment, which was delayed a little because of traffic. I fell asleep after a few minutes, due to exhaustion. I woke up when I felt Jack picking me up.

"I can walk," I mumbled.

"I like carrying you around." He told me. I gave him a soft smile.

"I'm still mad at you." I told him.

"That's okay." He said.

I sighed, resting my head in his neck. Once we got inside, Jack put me down. I stood in my kitchen, watching Jack move around the small apartment.

"Well, I put take out in the fridge, and there's bottled water in there too." I nodded, cracking my neck. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Where - you're leaving?" I croaked out.

"Well, uh, you're mad at me."

"I am." I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget today.

"Usually - usually when a person's mad at the other person - they don't stay over night."

"But - I - I'm not a usual person." I cocked my head to the side, hair flowing over my shoulder. I rose my eyebrow at him. "Some might argue that when people are mad, they like to lose control."

Jack stared at me for a moment before stalking over to me.

"You're so confusing." He muttered before pushing me against the fridge and covering my mouth with his.

"You're the one who kissed another person." I said, threading my hand through his hair and tugging his face back down to mine.

His hands slipped down my body, resting on my ass, pulling me flush against his dick, which was growing harder by the second. "It didn't mean anything."

"Whatever," I shrugged, trying to not think about Jack kissing another woman, pushing him back to my mouth.

"I'm sorry." He pulled away, breathless.

"I don't want to talk about it," I pleaded to him.

"I think that we need to talk about it. Because it made me realize something when I saw you."

I pulled myself out of his grip and walked into my bedroom. "What could you have realized?" I asked him, more confused than I was before.

"I don't know what this is." Jack had followed me into the bedroom. He motioned between the two of us before continuing on. "That's what I realized."

I balked at him. "You just realized that you don't know what we are? That's what you realized? That's why you went and kissed Vic?"

"It sounded better in my head." Jack admitted, scratching his beard.

"You think," I glared at him.

"What I meant to say is I want this to be more than whatever the fuck is going on now." I balked at him again, and he continued, noticing me. "I really like what's going on now, but everything with Dean, I don't - don't - ugh." He gripped his hair in frustration. "I don't know what life is going to throw at us, but I want - I want us to have the whole thing." I was in shock, I couldn't say anything. "I love you. I want the whole package. I want the Sunday morning breakfasts, I want the weird phone calls you have with Jackson and April twice a week, I want the fights about who's going to close the cupboards. I want to buy you chocolate and flowers when we get into fights. I want to listen to you bitch about Amelia when you get mad at her even though she's your best friend. I want it. And I want it with you." Tears welded up in my eyes again as he finished his speech. "Oh no, no, no, don't cry again."

"They're happy tears, you idiot!" I told him.

"Oh, okay." He nodded quickly. Kneeling in front of me, he grabbed my hands.

"I love you too," I cried.

With that, he pushed me on my back and kissed me, hard. His hand slid under the hem of my t-shirt. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of me. I moaned when he pulled away and kissed down my throat and my collarbone. I pulled at his shirt, wanting it off him. He slipped his shirt off and then tugged at mine. I pulled him back on to me. I gasped when he pushed himself against me. Jack moaned against my mouth.

"Oh, Jack!" I gasped when he did it again. Eventually, I pushed at him so he was on his back and I was on top of him. I put my hands on his chest as I swirled my hips on top of him, grinding softly. Jack's hands found their way to my ass, helping me steady myself in his arms.

Jack quickly tugged off my pants and underwear and did the same for himself. I gasped when I realized how hard he was. I pushed him back onto the bed and crawled on top of him. I leaned down and kissed him. He ran a hand threw my hair and the other one down back to my ass, and to my center. When he slipped a finger inside me, I moaned loudly.

"You're so hot," He grunted out, rutting his fingers in and out. "And wet, holy shit."

"I'm ready," I told him, panting as I felt the coil in my stomach tighten. He removed his hand from my center. I whined at the loss of contact, but it was quickly replaced by a moan when his dick was inside me. "You're so big."

"You're so pretty." He pushed so he was on his elbows, watching me roll on him. Eventually, he got tired of not being in control and flipped us so he was on top and I was underneath.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head when he put himself back into me. "Jack!" I chanted his name over and over as he pounded into me. He brought his mouth down to my chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth. One hand holding him up, the other down at my center.

"Come for me." He told me, pushing his face into my neck, and I did just that, all over him, Jack closely behind me.

Jack collapsed on me, well half on me, half on the bed. We panted, trying to regain our breathing.

"Just us," he pushed the hair out of my face and kissed me again.

"Just us." I agreed.

End.

Okay, smut was trash, but I'm still new at writing smut and don't know what I'm doing. Please enjoy! I love Jack so much it physically hurts.

[zeroseuniverse]

Cat Nap

Word Count: 696 Warnings: Mentions of narcolepsy (incase that's triggering) none other than that. Summary: In which sharing a sleep schedule in separate time zones was not a good soul bond.

“Good news it’s not narcolepsy.” The doctor hummed looking down at her chart with an odd look.

“Then what is it? Because falling asleep in the middle of work is something I can't afford.” She frowned, twiddling with her fingers trying to wring out her anxiety.

“Seems it’s your soul bond, you’re connected by sleep.”

“Oh that’s perfect!” Her father cackled, finding the whole things amusing.

“Dad!”

“What? I’m not wrong, you are paired with someone who sleeps a lot, it would explain your recent insomnia spells if you live in a different time zone.”

“Let’s not go into time zones,  maybe they work a night shift.” She groaned, packing her bag after filling out the necessary paperwork to leave.

“I don’t know honey.”

“Are you packed?” She wondered, hoping to change the topic, her father rolled his eyes, putting the car in gear and backing out of his parking space. 

“Yes, I am. But I’m not comfortable leaving you here alone.”

“I’m a fully grown adult.”She deadpanned, not liking that her father was babying her.

“A fully grown adult with a soul bond that causes her to sleep sixteen hours a day, I mean come on, is your soulmate a cat?” He argued, turning a corner.

“Probably, you know I’m a cat person.” She shrugged, not even thinking twice about the joke her father had cracked, “I can survive alone.”

“No you won’t because I think you should come with me.” He blurted, earning an eye roll.

“This is ridiculous.” 

“No it’s really not, if you’re here you’ll eat during the night and it’ll mess up your systems more and make you sick. So come with me and I can monitor you. You’re already basically in Korea’s time zone with the way you sleep so you won’t have to readjust much.”

–

And that’s how she ended up in Seoul, South Korea. Her father had a huge conference to attend here and so she was mainly left to her own whims. After about two days she realized she really was on Korea’s time, she slept perfectly through the night and woke up more energized than ever, and her father was rather smug about this when he noticed. One day she was taking a walk near the river when she saw six men playing around in the grass, one of them looking her way when he noticed the eyes, he gave her a weary bunny-like smile before turning away. She looked around to find a bench, though someone was already sitting on it, there was enough space for her to give them distance. So She sat on the edge of the bench and looked up at the clouds with a soft smile, not noticing the soft gaze she received or the thrumming under her skin from the bond, all she knew was the most relaxed she had ever been, and as she dozed off, the man next to her followed in suit. And so they rested, the most content faces being shown to the members nearby who knew Yoongi would never fall asleep next to a stranger, so he must’ve fallen asleep before she sat. Jungkook walked over and woke his hyung up but was startled by Jimin’s gasp, he glanced back to see what was going on and followed Jimin’s eyes to the woman on the bench began stirring, which really didn’t make much sense, they hadn’t made any noise.

Yoongi grumpily woke up, shaking Jungkook's hand off of his shoulder, reaching out to the woman subconsciously, and when their skin connected, the thrums were impossible to ignore for her, making her gasp loudly. 

“Oh My God.” Taehyung watched on with wide eyes as Yoongi initiated affection with the stranger, Yoongi pulled her close nuzzling into her neck sleepily which she squealed a bit at. 

“Are you actually a cat? Cause if you are, my dad is going to love this.” She teased, causing Yoongi to bite her gently in defiance. It might’ve been too soon for that in normal relationships, however soulmates were known to basically jump each other on sight so he’d say this was pretty tame.

“Oh you are such a cat.”

[utilitycaster]

Hi! I saw your tags on the escape room poll that Team Liam would be last and I wanted to ask why? While I agree that they wouldn’t be first, I wouldn’t put them last either. Do you think they would just have too much conflict to use their skills?

I didn't realize this was from last night's 4SD and because OP said "Battle Royale" I assumed that it was in some way a combat-oriented escape room, in which the lack of a dedicated/significant healer (Vax has, what, 30 lay on hands and a couple low level spell slots) and the fact that Orym is one decent but not incredible tank among two of the most tissue-paper characters in terms of HP would spell their defeat.

With the understanding that this is a traditional escape room here's my thought process:

From my escape room experience there are four skills that map easily into D&D skills and one that does not map into the D&D character skill chart but does map extremely well onto players. They are:

Investigation/raw intelligence. How good are you at inspecting and comprehending things?

Sleight of Hand/raw dexterity. How good are you at manipulating objects/fine motor control?

Persuasion or Intimidation/raw charisma. How good are you at convincing people to work together or perform tasks?

Perception. How good are you at generally noticing things right away?

The most crucial thing, however, is "do you try dumb shit and push buttons and try to figure out everything quickly." And so:

Toss up between Travis and Sam's character teams in terms of the D&D skills; Chetney and Veth are both particularly suited for escape rooms between strong intelligence and high dexterity. I think Sam's team overall is probably stronger; Tary's mechanical knowledge and FCG's desire for everyone to work together and Scanlan's general buffing abilities/capacity to get people to do what he wants (presumably win) mean everyone has a lot to bring to the table. FCG is the only one with decent perception, iirc, though, and Travis as a player is fundamentally a button pusher and therefore his characters will inherit this energy even though Chetney and Fjord are going to be carrying the entire thing (although, actually, Grog will probably respond well to being asked to perform tasks or look for things).

Taliesin's characters have the combined skills but unfortunately with the except of Caduceus they all have the trait "does not work well with others" and Ashton and Percy in particular wouldn't listen to Caduceus and they're the ones with the most relevant skills here. Beau could do an escape room on her own and probably would (note: someone told me this is what Marisha said on 4SD and I agree wholeheartedly) but necessarily will be less effective than groups who work together. Vex would do pretty well and would be competitive enough, but none of Laura's characters are particularly expert in investigation and if Vex and Imogen clash it is 100% over in terms of getting out in time, though I think Jester would make a valiant go of it. None of Ashley's characters crack +1 in investigation and no one has 20 dex, and I doubt most would be interested or competitive about this, though I do think they'd get along the best by far.

Rounding things out, I suspect that Liam's characters are just behind Taliesin's in terms of conflict; it won't be quite as heated but I get the sense all three of them, all of whom are very much about working together with their respective parties, will not be very good at working together with each other, and Orym is the least likely to take the lead despite most suited for it. Caleb is extremely smart but I don't think he'd be the most invested in going super fast. I don't think they'll be last - Ashley or Taliesin are more likely - but they'd certainly not be first. The NPCs, meanwhile, have the advantage of two people who know each other well, a very agreeable and mature person in Eshteross, and Essek and Allura will probably vibe solely on the basis of being wizards who know and like Caleb if they don't know each other personally yet. Iirc Essek and Eshteross should have decent dex scores though not 20, and everyone has diplomatic skills. I believe Allura's wisdom is respectable as well. They'll certainly be the most well-behaved and adult about it.

In conclusion, you're right, probably not last (would almost certainly be last in the combat scenario I mistakenly imagined) but absolutely should not be first.

[trashboatprince]

Apparently, I'm still in a bit of a writing mood!

Here's a fic inspired a bit by The Fires of Pompeii.

As always, I write Fourteen with they/them pronouns.

On with the fic!

--

"Ooh, it's been ages since I've last been to a Roman exhibit!" The Doctor grinned, walking through the entry way into the large room containing countless artifacts on display.

"You've been to Rome, multiple times," Rose pointed out, smiling as she unfolded the information pamphlet she had been given, "what excites you about a museum exhibit?"

"Oh, lots of things. For one, I can leave the features one at any time to go and explore the rest of the building, all in the same ticket! Two, it's like time travel, in a silly, human-y way. C... no, three! As much as I have issues with archaeologists..."

"Except your wife." Donna sniffed.

The Doctor rolled their eyes. "Yes, besides River, I do appreciate that many want to preserve human history. Also, sometimes exhibits display old things I've lost! One, I had a really nice pocket watch that was found in an old tomb, however, it hadn't originally ended up in there because of me."

Shaun chuckled. "How did it end up in there then?"

"I... may or may not have lost it in a game of lots, and it got passed around. Amazing that the thing still worked!"

It was a lovely day, a Noble-Temple-Mott family outing, and Rose had wanted to go to the museum. She said that though she gave up the DoctorDonna from her own mind, she still felt some effects, phantom sensations. She had said she had a dream of a marble statue of the goddess Fortuna and knew it had to do with her uncle.

Sadly, that exhibit was no longer here, the Doctor would have loved to have seen their old Rose statue. But that was alright, there would be other fun things to see.

"Think they've got a star chart or two, Doctor?" Wilf asked and the Doctor smiled, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair.

"I'm sure they do! Let's go!" They laughed, with Wilf joining in as they pushed through the people in the room. They heard Donna call out to them, telling the Doctor and her grandfather to stay out of trouble.

They found some old mosaics of the night sky, with the Doctor happily telling Wilf what they showed, and how different the sky looked back centuries ago.

Rose caught up to them, dragging the two with her to look at old pottery, having the Doctor translate any Latin they found on objects about the exhibit. Yes, they had the TARDIS translation device, but sometimes it was more fun for the Doctor to play teacher, and they loved playing tour guide!

"Oh my God!" They paused in the middle of talking about some graffiti carved into a block of stone at the sound of Sylvia's voice.

"Was that Grandma?" Rose asked, glancing about.

"I think so." Wilf added. "Sounded a bit shocked."

"Think she broke somethin'?" The Doctor asked, trying to spot her in the crowd. "Hope she didn't, don't know if they'll let me repair anything..."

"Doctor!" Came a shout from Shaun, and the Doctor saw him waving a hand about in the air. "Come here! You gotta check this out!"

"Stop shoutin', you two!" Donna said from somewhere near her husband. "We're in public!"

The Doctor, Rose, and Wilf snickered, following the sounds of their family's voices, before seeing Donna and Shaun, with Sylvia's back to them. "Alright, what's the problem? Did my mother-in-law break a priceless object?"

"Hmph!" Sylvia turned sharply, glowering at the alien in the room with her. "Excuse you! I haven't touched a thing! Unlike you, I'm sure you've licked something already!"

"Not yet." Rose said quietly, making Wilf laugh once more.

"Oi!" The Doctor pouted, then grinned. "Okay, give me time, I probably will. Anyway, what's got you shoutin'?"

"Care to explain this?" She pointed at something on the wall.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and slipped on their glasses, moving to examine the large slap of marble. It was old, worn in place, cracked in several others, and was missing a whole corner, but the image was obvious.

There were two figures standing there, a woman and a man-shaped being, along with a tall, rectangular box.

"Oh. My. God." Donna gasped, apparently having not seen it yet herself.

"Looks like you and the Doc, yeah?" Shaun spoke. "The sign for it says 'household gods', from a villa in Rome. Did you two go to Rome?"

"I've been, during modern times." Donna pointed out. "Dumbo here landed us in a different Italian city, we ended up in Pompeii! On volcano day."

The Doctor moved closer to the slab as Donna gave a brief story about their adventure in 79 AD. Unconsciously, the Doctor touched their face when Donna brought up Caecilius, all blue eyes and angry eyebrows, and a reminder to save people. They looked at the marble images of their tenth incarnation with Donna, the details were not as strong, but it was still clear it was them.

"Marvelous craftsman, that Caecilius." The Doctor said. "He must have done this himself, the details are too good to have been a commission, and we saw his work with the circuits."

"Did he really think we were gods?" Donna asked.

"Possibly? I mean, we knew things about the future, we traveled in a... what did his wife say? Something about a temple that was far larger on the inside? We came back and saved them, we made sure they lived."

Shaun stepped closer. "He did a great job, Donna, you look beautiful in Roman artwork!"

Donna blushed, laughing. "Stop, don't get my ego going."

"That's amazing!" Rose smiled. "Household gods, huh? What's that mean?"

"It means we protected them, that we kept their lives and home safe from danger." The Doctor replied. "What an honor! Normally, I don't care much for the whole 'worship' thing, it makes me feel weird and kinda like I have too much on my shoulders. Makes my ego feel huge in a way. But this? I think it's nice. And hey, Caecilius got to be someone who helped people later! At least... his face did."

Donna blinked. "What? Wait..." She gave this some thought. "That Scottish you! All eyebrows and runnin' about like a penguin with his ass on fire!"

The Doctor groaned. "That's what you remember of him from the Metacrisis?! He was so much more than that, I was cool, I could play the guitar! And I'm president of the Earth! And still am!"

She scoffed. "Makes your ego feel huge, eh? And all that stuff you just said doesn't?"

The Doctor pouted and muttered something under their breath. "Oi! Don't get smart at me in Latin, spaceman!" She said, giving them a light push, and they laughed.

"Are we able to take this home?" Sylvia asked. "I mean, technically it's art of you two, it should be your right to keep it, yes?"

"Ehhh... technically? Maybe, but I doubt the Roman government is gonna hand it over just cause those two look like us, they'd think it'd be a joke." The Doctor sighed. "Still... I could commission it, go back, ask for one of my own from him?"

"Nope." Donna shook her head. "You're not stealing the TARDIS to do that. Might mess up a timeline or somethin'! Come on, let's keep going, I wanna hit up the museum's cafe!"

"Fine, fine." The Doctor sighed again, watching the family continue on. They looked at the marble, smiling, then turned to see Donna still standing next to them. "I took your advice, you know? About helping people, even if it seems impossible."

Donna looked back at him. "That's why you had his face, yes? As a reminder?"

"Just as this one was to remind me to slow down, to rest." The Doctor nodded. "You've left quite the influence on me, Donna Noble."

"Yeah? And I'm sure I'll continue to do so for your other future selves, including your bi-generation twin."

"Oh, you have no idea how big of an influence you've left on him. Come on, let's keep wandering, I'll get your coffee."

--

It is amazing how much influence Donna has left on the Doctor.

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Why Don't We Rely On Chemistry?

Fandom: Ready or Not x Saw VI (Crossover)

Pairing: William Easton x Grace Le Domas (Willace)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Takes place at the end of Saw VI, but in an AU where William lives, and after the events of Ready or Not. While it arguably messes with timelines, Grace has been working at Umbrella for around a month, and as a new hire in administrative would not have been targeted the same way as those who have been part of his team for longer. 

Summary: Grace is unprepared for William’s sudden arrival at her apartment but lets him in regardless. 

Author’s note: Every now and then, a crack pairing that forms seemingly out of nowhere becomes important enough to write. In this case – there were three different concepts that demanded attention, so I decided to tackle them all in between other projects. Dedicated, with affection, to @eternal-learner whose interest in the idea of the pairing finally got me to think about it clearly. 

The Song That Inspired This

Why Don’t We Rely on Chemistry?

            It’s the last thing Grace Le Domas expects – her boss leaning against her doorframe: bloody, disheveled, and looking as though he’s been through hell and back at least twice – but she would be lying if it also wasn’t a relief to see him. 

            Things with the estate she’d inherited had gotten complicated, as it was only a few months after her horrific ordeal on the night of her wedding. In fact, she had just ended a tense phone-call with her lawyers. Honestly, a distraction was exactly what she needed. 

            “Will,” she reached out quickly to catch William Easton’s tall, lean body right as his legs gave out beneath him. “My god, what happened?”

            “Jigsaw,” he gasped, the gravel in his voice revealing the pain he was in. 

            Grace’s eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t he supposed to be dead?”

            Somehow, her employer manages a brief laugh while she hoists him up, draping one of his arms over her shoulder so she can cart him inside her apartment properly. 

            “Apparently even the dead can exact revenge.” He remarked as she charted a path through her messy living room.

Admittedly, it doesn’t take too much to guide him into the small bathroom at the end of the hall. While she has a tinier frame than he does, she is also strong enough to carry him entirely if need called for it. Luckily – that doesn’t appear to be the case.

            She lets him recline against the counter, flipping on the light switch so she can see things more clearly. “Take off your shirt and tell me what happened.”

            Again, he laughs, though there’s a wounded hiss and he inhales sharply right after. “You’re being so bossy. Do you get that from watching me all day?”

            She finishes rummaging in her medicine cabinet, turning just in time to see him struggling with the buttons. The sarcastic retort she’d prepared dies on her tongue and her gaze softens. 

            Grace crosses over to William and takes over, popping each button on his blood-stained shirt open in rapid succession. “Please tell me, as best as you can.”

            He takes another shaky breath before doing so, while she gingerly pushes the ruined garment off his shoulders. 

            He leaves nothing out in his retelling of the harrowing encounter in the abandoned zoo, but what might be the most alarming part of all is how haunted he is about not being able to do more. 

            In ordinary circumstances, she might ogle his surprisingly defined torso a bit, but she is more consumed with tending to his injuries while he relays his story. 

            She winces in sympathy when he is unable to keep a whimper at bay while she cleans the puncture wounds on his hands – wiping the blood away as gently as possible despite the sting of the rubbing alcohol. “I’m so sorry, I’m almost done,” she mutters. “Then I’ll stitch up that gash on your side.”

            “Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head, dark brown strands of hair coming loose from where he had smoothed them back earlier. “You’re rather adept at this, actually. Did you have any medical training?”

            “On myself you could say,” she holds up her own hand, where scar tissue is visible right on the center of her palm. 

            He blinks, concern crossing his handsome features. “How?”

            “A fucking kid shot through my hand, that’s how. And then I impaled it again on a nail.”

            “Grace…how much about your past have you told me?”

            A rueful smile tugged at her lips. “Well to be fair, I was only recently hired.”

            “True, but now I’m doubly curious,” he turns when she instructs him, so she has a better angle at which to sew in the stitches. 

            In a way, it’s a great release to finally share her own story, and she’s certain William appreciates being able to take his mind off his own for a while. 

            What she isn’t counting on is the tears that have sprung to her eyes by the time she’s completed her work, and when she peers up at him, the emotion reflected back in his sea-colored gaze nearly takes her breath away. 

            Gingerly, he frames her face between his damaged hands. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” 

            “You need to tell yourself that too,” she half sobs.

            The next thing she knows, she is cradled in his arms, flush against his solid chest, and listening to the steady beat of his heart while he soothes her with kind words.

            “This isn’t hurting you?” she risks a nuzzle.

            “You’re worth the pain,” he rests his chin against the top of her head. “If there’s something I’m grateful for, it’s that you weren’t with my team long enough to get dragged into that game with me. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t have saved you.”

            “If there’s something I’m great at: it’s surviving,” Grace admits, tilting her head back so she can look at him again. 

            Her heart skips when he smiles genuinely for the first time that night, and then he raises a hand to trace along her cheek before whispering, “I don’t doubt it.”

            Whether she moves or he does is beside the point – in the next moment, their mouths are colliding in an ardent kiss.

            She parts her lips eagerly in invitation, delighted when he takes it, and his tongue delves with practiced precision. 

            She hooks her index fingers into his belt loops, tugging him forward as she steps backward to lead him to the shower. 

            They separate for air and for Grace to shuck her tee shirt over her head. 

            There is no mistaking the lust in William’s gaze the second he gets a glimpse of her in the black lace bra she has on underneath, those eyes of his trailing slowly over her. 

            She makes a show of removing the undergarment – and then she is standing there, half-naked and hoping that he won’t let reason cloud his judgement. 

            He hesitates for a split second before throwing caution to the wind. 

            She’s in his arms again in a heartbeat, elation coursing through her entire body as she blindly reaches for the faucet to start the hot water. “You sure?” she mumbles, fumbling with the rest of his clothes.

            “I need to feel something that isn’t pain,” he responds, assisting her until they’re both completely nude and stepping under the refreshing, warm spray. 

            If he weren’t recovering, she’s certain that he would be lifting her up and pinning her against the wall. Instead, she straddles him on the tub floor and takes initiative.

            They’re careful after joining together, moving in a deliberately paced rhythm so as not to aggravate his injuries. The water cascades over them while they exchange loving kisses, and a symmetry builds. 

            It’s been some time since she’s connected with another in this way. She relishes in how good it feels – as though he’s been made for her because he fits so perfectly. 

            His name falls from her lips like a mantra as they pick up speed, and she cards her fingers through his damp hair while looking deeply into his eyes. He braves gripping her hips more tightly, and she can’t deny that she likes witnessing a hint of dominance, especially when it adds to his allure.

            “Grace…” his already low register is akin to an inhuman growl, and she shivers before kissing him again, encouraging the movement of their entangled forms until there is nothing left but the pleasure they share. 

            “For the record, this was probably the worst idea, and I should have immediately taken you to a hospital,” Grace confesses not long after. Her hands are preoccupied with stroking through the hair on his chest while they lie in her bed, twined with each other and the sheets, recuperating. 

            William’s quiet laugh rumbles against her cheek. “You gave me some painkillers and food. I should be fine till tomorrow morning,” he sighs and sweeps his fingers tiredly through her unbound, blond waves. 

            She lifts her head from where it’s pillowed comfortably and purses her lips. “One hint of a fever and I’m dragging you there completely naked.”

            “That’ll be a sight,” he grins, yanking her close for a sweet kiss that she happily returns. 

            He’s right. Being responsible can wait till the morning. 

The End

[whataboutmyfries]

Take my breath away

Boy oh boy did the inspiration hit me like a freight train, i wrote the previous post and went into my notes app where i found this little gem of an idea, and naturally it fit prompt 13 on the details for fictional kisses prompt list so here we are!!! reads a little bit like crack and it's also completely un beta-ed so we die like men.

cw: sex, mature content, and painfully cheesy nerd jokes.

enjoy!

13. pulling your lover closer by the waistband

~

It wasn’t often that Remus Lupin contemplated the sanity of his decisions. This, however, might be a record for the charts, his piece de resistance, even. Two weeks ago, Remus had decided to introduce his woefully ignorant boyfriend to the masterpiece that was the Top Gun movie. (after all, what gay could resist Tom Cruise on that bike?) It wasn’t Sirius’s first rodeo, so the wonder of muggle films had long since faded. But the passion in Remus’s voice and the flush on his cheeks when he spoke of the movie had him intrigued. 

And so, two weeks ago, on a pleasant Tuesday night, Remus had found himself looking at the two most stunning men in his life (nay, the world, dare he say) meet as Sirius watched the screen, enthralled. Sirius had laughed and gasped in all the right places, vowing to learn how to play ‘danger zone’ on the guitar if it killed him. Remus had laughed, and tucked his boyfriend into his side as they walked away from the theatre; a date well spent. 

Skip to two weeks later when he was prepared for the wrath of his ancestors for the horrific, grievous crime he’s committed. 

Remus walked into the garage to see Sirius sprawled casually on his motorbike, looking like a wet dream come to life. He’d barely had time to take in the aviators and the leather jacket (where the fuck did he find all the patches? Remus had been looking for those for ages.) before his knees buckled as the onslaught of ohmygodmyboyfriendlookslikesexonlegs hit and Remus stumbled a little. 

The light of the open garage door made every feature starker, from the strong line of his jaw, to the shallow dimple when he smirked at Remus. Oh the bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. For all his dry wit and sarcasm, Remus couldn’t think of a single clever thing to say as he looked at the lovechild of his two soulmates come to life. 

Tom Cruise, wherever you are, I thank you for baby gays everywhere. And whatever gods of gay dropped this specimen in my lap, I don't know which one of you I sold my soul to, but THANK YOU.

“Like what you see Moons?” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Aw shucks, it’s just Sirius to you sweet cheeks” 

Sirius kicked his leg off the handlebars, putting both feet on the floor as he looked at Remus. 

“What? Dog got your tongue?” 

“That’s not the expression and you know it.” Remus mumbled, his brain short circuiting too hard for him to come up with any sort of witty retort. 

Sirius laughed, leaning forward to tuck his fingers into the waistband of Remus’s jeans and tug him closer. Remus went easily, too stunned to do anything other than stare. Sirius’s thumbs sat warm against his skin and Remus shivered at the contact. Sirius smirked, taking away a hand to push the aviators into his hair. 

Remus couldn’t decide if looking him in the eye was better or worse. The roguish grin, the slight tilt of his head, the fucking leather jacket. He was about ninety percent sure his brain was broken.

Naturally, Remus did what any sane person in his place would do, and he leaned forward to kiss his (impossibly hot) boyfriend. Sirius made a satisfied little sound against his mouth and Remus leaned further into the space between Sirius’s legs, sliding his hands under his boyfriend’s shirt to get at bare skin. 

“God, the things you do to me.”

Remus felt Sirius’s smile against his lips. “Well, a man’s gotta keep you interested, don’t I? I saw the way you looked at ol’ Tom in that theatre Moons, I’m hurt.”

Remus huffed a laugh, tangling his fingers in Sirius’s hair and dragging him closer. “Well he’s not the one I’m about to blow, is he?”  

Sirius pulled back just a little at that, looking very dishevelled as he gaped at Remus. “Oh god, Yes yes yes yes, close the fucking door.” 

“Whatever you say, Mav.” 

Remus didn’t miss the way Sirius’s breath hitched and he smirked as he reached for his phone, fumbling to find the app, barely pushing the button before shoving the damn thing back in his pocket. 

He surged forward, pushing Sirius against the bike as he kissed and kissed and kissed him, hands roaming across every inch of skin they could reach. Sirius gasped into Remus’s mouth when he leaned down to hitch Sirius’s knee against his hip, grinding his hips down into Sirius’s, making the both of them moan. 

“Moons, ah— Moony.”

“Going to come for me, Mav? Going to let me suck your cock?” 

Sirius groaned, tightening his grip in Remus’s hair, kissing him sloppily. “Oh god, anything you want, Moons, anything.” 

Remus’s grin was nothing short of feral as he dropped his head to the curve of Sirius’s neck, sucking and biting as he shoved the leather jacket off his shoulders. He pulled away for all of a second to take Sirius’s shirt off, leaning in again to bite and kiss at every inch of skin he could reach. 

Sirius’s boot dug into the back of  his thigh when he pushed him back to suck a nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it, before using his tongue to soothe the hurt. 

“Remus, fuck, Remus please—” 

Remus hummed, dropping to his knees as he trailed kisses down Sirius’s torso, making quick work of his belt and jeans. He looked up at Sirius, utterly debauched 

“Great balls of fire, baby” 

Sirius barked a laugh between his gasps for breath. “Moony you did not just—oh my god” 

Remus smiled around Sirius as he sucked him deeper into his mouth, groaning when Sirius’s hands tightened in his hair. He rubbed soothing circles onto Sirius’s hipbone with a thumb, hollowing out his cheeks as he took him deeper. 

“Moons, ah— Moons, slow down, or this is going to end very fast.” 

Remus pulled off with a smirk. 

“I got a need for speed, darlin, need for speed” 

Sirius groaned at that, half exasperated, half laughing, “Re, you need to stop doing that—fuck”

Remus hummed, swallowing around the head of Sirius’s cock as he took him back into his mouth, sucking him off languidly. He reached up to flick at a nippled, smiling as it made Sirius twitch in his mouth. 

“Fuuuuck,” Sirius groaned, “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

Remus breathed through his nose as Sirius hit the back of his throat, his hands tightening in Remus’s hair as he let out a choked gasp. 

“Re, Re, fuck, I’m gonna—” 

Remus hummed his encouragement, sucking hard, swallowing every drop that Sirius spilled down his throat.” 

“Moony, c’mere, Jesus Christ, get up here.” 

Sirius tugged Remus to his feet with frantic hands, grasping at hair and clothes and arms as he tugged him in for a kiss, hard and bruising. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you so much” 

Remus smiled, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist to pull him in closer. 

“Love you too, Mav, so much” 

Sirius ducked, burying his head in Remus’s neck as he chuckled. “Who knew Tom Cruise could get a man so riled up?” 

Remus laughed, running his fingers through Sirius’s hair. “Hmmm, we should watch The Mummy next time.” 

[allegra-writes]

"We are Never Getting Back Together"

Armand x Daniel Molloy, Lestat x Louis

Crack, All-human AU

Teen and Up

Warnings: Mention of alcohol abuse, mention of arson, mention of animal death, vandalism against Lestat's luscious locks

Lestat and Louis keep breaking up and making it everyone's problem

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable character, and for legal reasons I won't be accepting tips for this story or any story set in Anne Rice's Immortal Universe. Thank you!

MY MASTERLIST

Daniel never saw himself as the kind of person who could be friends with his boyfriend’s ex. He had always thought of himself as too jealous, too possessive to be able of something like that. He knew, of course, that Armand was friends with his ex-fiance, Louis, but that was different.

Don’t get him wrong, he would still get a pang of jealousy sometimes, Louis was hot as fuck, probably the hottest person Daniel had ever met, and that was saying something. But Louis had actually been the one to introduce him and Armand, and besides, he was too wrapped up in his own relationship for his eyes or his heart to wander off. No, Daniel knew there was no space in Louis’ life for anyone but Lestat.

Lestat, beautiful, mercurial, charismatic Lestat. It had come as no surprise to Daniel, after years and years of hearing about his adventures, his charm, his talent, when his band had hit it big, going viral and topping charts with only an EP and a homemade youtube music video. 

What had come as a surprise, as Daniel interviewed the man for the San Francisco Bay Times, was how quickly they had clicked, getting along like a house on fire right from the beginning. They both had the same sardonic sense of humor, the same wanderlust, general lust for life, and if Armand was to be believed, the same recklessness. Overnight they had become besties, thick as thieves, attached at the hip, so much so it was rare to spot one on a night out without the other. Extending an invitation to one meant extending it to both of them, they were a package deal. 

Unfortunately, that also meant he was, along with Armand, his emergency contact, his first number on speed dial, and his unofficial therapist/attendant whenever he and Louis had a fight. And they fought a lot.   

He was so used by now to Lestat’s late-night emergencies, he picked up his phone before even waking up completely.

“Hmwah?” 

“Daniel, can you come pick me up?” Not even a good night, Daniel, I hope I’m not waking you up then, but Lestat’s nasal voice told him he probably was in no state to think about pleasentries. Daniel went instantly into alert.

“Lestat, what happened? Are you ok?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because on the other side of the line, Lestat started to sob. Shit. It was going to be one of those nights, then. 

“Lestat, listen to me, are you hurt?” Daniel decided to check, just in case, “Do I need to call someone else?” Gabrielle, the police, an ambulance…

“Lou- Louis and I had a fi- …fight” Lestat hiccupped. Yeah, no shit. “Can y-you come pi- pick me up?”

Daniel sighed,

“Alright, yeah, sure. Where are you?” 

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, then some shuffling, as if Lestat was moving around, then a sound of distress, a little pathetic whimper before he seemed to give up.

“Can’t Armand just track my phone?”

Armand was already sitting up on the bed, iPad in hand,

“I got him, let’s go”

Twenty-five minutes later, they were in the bay, parking in front of the seedy bar their friend had undoubtedly been drowning his sorrows in before being cut off, looking for a blonde head of hair in the small crowd. 

“There,” Armand pointed at a slouched figure sitting criss-crossed applesauce on the sidewalk. 

No wonder Daniel hadn’t spotted him before, he was looking for a blonde, and Lestat’s hair was a dirty reddish-purple. Just what the hell had happened to his friend this time?

It took Daniel’s and Armand’s combined strength to pull Lestat up and stuff him into the back seat, uncooperative as he was being.

“Give me the keys” Daniel pretty much demanded once they had managed to close the door without Lestat toppling over.

Armand frowned,

“Why?”

“Because you drive like a maniac” Daniel explained, trying to suppress an eye-roll, “and Lestat’s totaled, so unless you want to be scrubbing his diner off the upholstery at sunrise, you’ll let me drive”

His boyfriend did roll his eyes but tossed the keys at him anyway. 

“Fine. But if he does end up getting sick, you’ll be the one cleaning it”

“Yes, boss” Daniel muttered under his breath as he turned the ignition. A quick side glance at Armand’s unamused face told him he had been heard. 

“Love ya” He offered, sheepishly. There was a choked sound coming from behind. Then, not ten seconds later, full-on wailing as Lestat cried, 

“Louis used to love me!”

“Louis does love you, Lestat” Armand deadpanned, the picture of disinterest on the passenger seat.

“No, he doesn’t!” Lestat all but shrieked, “He called me a sow’s ear! He said I was thin and carping!”

A sow’s ear? Who talked like that anymore? What did that even mean?

Armand let out a pensive hum.

“You are carping. Probably why you get along so well with Daniel…”

Daniel huffed, 

“We’re not carping, we’re simply brutally honest. And for what it’s worth, Lestat, you’re thick af. I think Louis was just trying to hurt you”

“You think I’m thick?” Lestat sniffed. Of course, that was the part he was latching onto.

“Yes, Lestat, you are thick, beefy, swoll, ripped, more strapping than Michelangelo’s David” Daniel could almost physically feel Armand’s new eye-roll, “Happy?”

Jesus.

“Babe… Is there something I should know?”

“Yes, Daniel, Lestat and I are having the most scandalous and torrid illicit affair” His boyfriend spoke at him  in the same bored tone he had used for Lestat, “We’re planning on eloping”

“... Imp”

“... Asshole”

“Brats”

Lestat and Daniel sulked in silence for a while, but at least the blonde had stopped crying. Speaking of, 

“Lestat, what happened to your hair?”

“Louis threw his drink at me” 

Just what was in that drink? Cool- aid? Manic panic? Daniel hoped Lestat had some strong clarifying shampoo at home. It was a testament to Lestat’s love for Louis that the normally vain rock star didn’t even seem to care about his hair at all at the moment.

“He made a mess of me and then broke up with me in front of the whole bar! People had their phones out! It was so humiliating! And then the blaireau blocked me! I tried to call him forty-three times. Look!”

Lestat almost fell to the front seat trying to press his cell phone to Daniel’s ear to show him.

“It’s ok, dude, I believe you,” He said. Then, because he evidently loved to voice the most controversial opinion no matter what, he told him, “Maybe it’s not a bad thing, you know? Maybe it’ll be good for you not to talk to each other for a while…”

Lestat looked completely bewildered. Armand looked alarmed.

“What do you mean?”

Armand was frantically gesturing at Daniel to shut his mouth, but Daniel being the absolute idiot that he was, kept talking.

“Well, I love Louis, you guys know I do. But maybe you guys are…” Dysfunctional? Toxic? More fucked up than Courtney and Kurt? “Not very healthy together. Maybe some time apart will be good for you”

Daniel was sure if the gesture wasn’t so undignified, Armand would have facepalmed. Lestat, on his part, let out an incredulous bark of laugh.

“Not healthy? No, no, we’re passionate. We can be intense sometimes but it’s only cause we love each other so much…”

“Lestat, he set your house on fire once” 

He shrugged,

“So what? He set Armand’s dorm on fire once too”

Daniel felt his jaw drop,

“You realize that makes it worse, don’t you?”

“I don’t know, Daniel” Armand mused, “I had killed his cat…”

“Not on purpose!” Daniel missed the look Lestat and Armand exchanged in the rearview mirror before the latter uttered a dry, 

“Right”

“All I’m trying to say” Yeah, Daniel never knew when to shut up, “is maybe you guys should take a break. You know, explore other options” Daniel really thought he would convince him with that one. How naive of him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel, there’s no one for me but Louis!” And Antoine, and David, and Dora, and Jesse, and Rowan and Gretchen and- “A break? A break?? What would he want a break for? No, Louis and I are forever, he is MINE! There is a CHORD tying us together, an unbreakable bond! He might not see it, but it is REAL!”

 The rest of Lestats rant went on in a french too fast for Daniel to even try to understand, but he got the gist. Armand occasionally threw the perfunctory dirty look at Daniel, but by the time they reach their apartment, Lestat had worn himself out. It was a struggle to get him to the elevator and an even bigger struggle to get him through the hall. There was a perilous moment right after they got inside when Daniel had aimed for the living room and Armand aimed for the kitchen, and they had almost ended up a tangle of limbs on the floor.

“Dude, where are you going?”

“He is not sleeping on the Massaud like that” Armand’s tone broke no argument, making Daniel sigh but immediately yield, following Armand’s lead to the kitchen sink, where Lestat came to just enough to curse at the cold water being poured over the back of his head, but even he in his drunken state knew there was no use fighting when it came to Armand and his ridiculously expensive couch, so he remained pliant as they scrubbed his head with dish soap.

“Well, shit” Daniel declared when it was clear no matter how much they rubbed, rinsed, and repeated, Lestat's previously golden locks were now a bold shade of magenta. 

“Wha?” His friend made a valiant attempt to ask, but his unfocused stare made it clear he wouldn’t understand -much less remember- what happening around him.

“Nothing, buddy” Daniel was swift to reassure him anyway. If anyone could relate to the confusion, vulnerability, and physical discomforts Lestat was undoubtedly feeling, it was him. “Just, Louis left you something to remember him in the morning…”

Lestat’s already glassy eyes lit up at the mention of his (ex) boyfriend,

“A present?”

Daniel sighed, 

“Yeah, dude. Something like that…”

Next to him, Armand took his phone out and snapped a quick picture. Daniel didn’t even bother scolding him.

“For Claudia?” He asked. Armand nodded. Louis’ little sister and he only ever saw eye to eye to talk shit about Lestat. 

“Claudia?” Daniel tried not to laugh at Lestat’s panicked expression and the way his eyes darted around the room searching for the nonexistent threat. 

“She’s not here, you can relax, dude” 

The former blonde visibly deflated, the tension leaving his frame, making Daniel adjust his hold so as not to drop him as he guided him to the couch. 

“She hates me” Lestat confided before throwing himself on the cushions.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Daniel said with as much patience as he could muster, “she’s just very protective of his brother”

“No, she does hate him” Armand stated with his usual solemnity. Daniel fought not to find it endearing.

“Armand, remember our talk about white lies” He waited till his boyfriend nodded his affirmation, “That was one. Lestat is in a vulnerable state and he doesn’t need to be distressed any further” Not to mention they didn’t need another one of his meltdowns.

“Oh” Armand observed, “I don’t think he’s heard anyway”

It was true, Lestat was already out like a light, snoring softly as he held one of the tiny green velvet pillows to his chest. 

“He looks so peaceful like this, I can see what you saw in him”

Armand scoffed derisively, 

“I was young, stupid and had terribly tacky taste back then” 

“Oh, yeah, I can see how your taste in men improved” Daniel snorted, pointing at his Rick and Morty’s black and green pajamas. Armand hooked a finger on the waistline of his cotton pants, tugging him closer.

“My taste has improved greatly” He declared before crashing their mouths together in a kiss that would have their friend howling and whistling at them if he was conscious. 

A sudden bolt of brilliance had Daniel breaking the kiss to suggest,

“Let’s use Lestat’s face to unlock his phone, I wanna change Louis’ ringtone” 

“... Very well, beloved, what do you have in mind?” Armand’s curiosity beated his annoyance at having their moment cut short. 

“Taylor Swift” was all he needed to say. Armand threw his head back in one of his rare, musical, almost boyish bursts of laugh Daniel loved so much. 

Whatever Lestat’s revenge to their little prank would be, Daniel decided right then and there, it would be worth it.

[zjeany-blog]

Is it still not over yet?

Geez, I thought I moved on already. I thought I moved on the day I went on the day trip as planned. I thought I moved on when I wrote down the final piece of the memoir. I thought I moved on when I stopped texting weeks ago.

It turns out that you don’t know you are insane when you actually are. You think you are okay, but you are really not. I was still insane weeks ago. I am still not okay now. It’s been more than a month already, but I am still reminded of whatever that is by random things in life every so often. A smiley face with an equal sign. An afterschool program from the east side of the town. A glance at the stars in the sky. I have flashbacks here and there. I am still losing sleep.

Why is it still not over yet!?!? It is overshadowing everything that I like doing.

“He doesn’t like you anymore. Just repeat that to yourself every day and reclaim your sanity. Grief is fine but no need to over-rationalize it,” so advised my best friend.

“I know, I know. But you don’t understand…” Over-rationalization is but a symptom of grief, if only she understands. The truth is that no one will ever understand, and I hope from the bottom of my heart that no one would ever have to understand.

I hope that no one would ever have to understand what it is like to live through hell. It was a period of time when I thought I was doing okay every day only to find out the next day that the previous-day-self was totally insane. I could calmly explain everything that happened, and even joke about it, but an inexplicable pain in the chest and around the neck would come at me late at night. I would convince myself of one set of explanations, but I would also wake up at 3 am, grabbing a pen to crack another layer of the story. Ridiculously enough, I even drew a line graph and a flow chart at one point just to screen through where the problem was. I would not feel tired even if I only slept 3 hours. I would not feel hungry even if I did not eat anything. I would not know what day or what time it was. That went on for about four days and four days have never felt so long. By the fourth day, I began to forget what I wanted to say even if I just had the thought a second ago when I was in conversation. By the seventh day, I would still drift away into thoughts when friends were eating together. “What were you thinking just now,” they asked. “This is what feels like to live through hell,” I said. Because when you decide to open up and be vulnerable with someone, you are also passing on a dagger that points at the softest spot in you. You trust the other party by telling them the truth, so when they stab you exactly where it hurts most, you are essentially emotionally murdered.

Living through hell was no fun, but the thing is, I didn’t feel any resentment. Instead, I chose to understand. I tried to stand in his shoe and walk his mind. If he was the person that he said he was, that was why he did what he did. When I finally (kinda) understood, I was able to forgive. Forgive the person, not the behavior. It was healing to forgive, but now that I think about it, this is the part where I thought I regained my sanity, but I was still insane. I could have a thousand reasons to hate someone who led me on and ditched me last minute (and who said there was still residual feeling but went back on the market the day after, what a jerk, huh), but I didn’t. Some called it empathy, and it is a strength, though I learned it the hard way.

However strong I could be, my heart was still shattered, not broken, but shattered into pieces. Even if it was glued back together with the love and support from friends and family, the cracks between the pieces were still hurting. The cracks hurt every time I saw a sign that brought back a piece of memory. Every piece of the heart is still filled with memories. Memories that I didn’t want to let go of yet.

I have been following the advice of my best friend. I have been brainwashing myself that he doesn’t like me anymore, or he might not even like me to begin with. For sure, this rationalizing helped me come to terms with the most common explanation. The grieving rationalization helped me stand up again. Yet, it hardly helped with consoling the heart. Now that the rational brain was satisfied with the cold answer, the emotions started to flow out. Grief turned into sorrow.

Maybe it was this advice of rationalization that made it hard. If I keep telling myself that, I am also forced to believe that what I have remembered to be good was false. Even worse, I am facing the danger of falling into the old trap that people never like me back. It also discounted the other person’s struggles that I tried to empathize with, so I resist accepting the theory. But if I were to believe that my memories were still real, I am afraid that I’m too naïve and stupid to empathize. As I swing between the reasons, the sorrow also flows in and out as waves. It still bothers me that don’t know the actual reason.

But I gotta move on now. Does it really matter what the actual reason is? I mean, he doesn’t even know, how would I know? Well, if that’s the case, why not choose to believe in something that makes me feel the best? On that thought, I returned to the more empathetic version of the story. I even had chatGPT to write a poem out of it.

Me: Write a love poem from the perspective of an avoidant-attached person.

chatGPT: 

My heart is yours, yet I remain apart, 

A prisoner of fear that holds me in its grip. 

I long to hold you close, to share your heart, 

But every time I try, my mind takes a dip.

Into a world where I am not enough, 

Where love is painful and only leads to pain, 

Where the thought of losing you is too rough, 

And the idea of closeness makes me feel insane.

But still, I yearn for you with all my might, 

To be near you, to bask in your warm glow, 

To share my life and make everything right, 

But my fear holds on, and I cannot let go.

So I hide and keep my distance, it’s true, 

But know that my love for you will always endure.

————————-

There it is. Maybe another month from now this will still look ridiculous. But at least at this moment, my heart is finally at peace again.

[allthemusic]

Week beginning: 29th September

Fresh from the horrors of Close the Door, are we going to be back on an even keel? Just going off the titles, I suspect so, with at leastw one track that's got to be a Western theme.

The Man from Laramie - Jimmy Young (peaked at Number 1)

Not only a Western theme, but a popular Western theme - this song reached Number 1! It was apparently from a film of the same name, whose summary sounds incredibly bloody - a quick scan and I'm immediately seeing rival cattle barons, shooting mules, selling rifles to Apaches and people being thrown over cliffs. I don't know how much this was par for the course, though. Maybe all Westerns were just a bit like that.

It starts strong, with a strummy beat that keeps up throughout the song, and lyrics about how the titular man form Laramie was a man with a peaceful turn of mind / He was kinda sociable and friendly / As friendly as can be. Sounds like a nice fellow, the sort of guy your grandma would approve of.

But then, the twist, as you find out that you never saw a man outdraw / The man from Laramie. He may be a dear, but he's also a crack shot and a badass with multiple notches in his gun - I particularly enjoy the line about how There was no coyote who could outshot / The man from Laramie.

Aside from that, we also learn that he has a flair for ladies and that The ladies loved his air of mystery. So we're adding a few more layers. Honestly, this guy is a Mary Sue. I mean, he's lovely and likable, but also a badass who shoots people, plus he's a chick magnet? Could he even be cooler?! Strong main character energy.

On a small note, I also really like the melodrama of the line about how Danger was this man's specialty. It's such a cheesy, pulpy line, used without any irony at all, and I just think it's neat.

There's a few touches later on from some backing singers - presumably the man from Laramie's army of swooning broads - but otherwise, the song just keeps trotting along pleasingly enough. As a cheesy pulp Western theme, it does its job just fine. I might watch this film, if it was on at the cinema back in 1955.

Love Me Or Leave Me - Sammy Davis Jr. (8)

This song did not fare as well in the charts as Jimmy did, which is a shame, because it's excellent. It starts jazzy and speedy, a real energetic toe-tapper that I almost immediately realised that I know and really like already!

It's a standard, taken from a 1928 musical comedy called Whoopee! that looks rather silly. This song is definitely the breakout from that play, sung by a singer called Ruth Etting, who got a boost from a 1955 filjm about her life, named after this song, where she was played by none other than Doris Day. So that explains why we're seeing versions of it at this point - it was a retro throwback song!

It starts strong, as mentioned - all energy and brash trumpets, and Sammy imploring his love to Love me or leave me / Or let me be lonely, insisting that I'd rather be lonely, than happy with someone else. There's something kind of beautiful about that, as a sentiment, I guess? It's romantic, at least.

I love the internal rhymes, too, especially in the second verse as we hear that You might find the night time / The right time for kissing / But night time is my time / For just reminiscing / Regretting instead of forgetting with somebody else. That's some good, solid word-smithing, right there, and again, it captures Sammy's desire to be alone, rather than move on from what at least seems to be an unrequited love.

We get some more lines about how I want your love / But I don't want to borrow, and then the best bit of the song begins, as a saxophone blares, and then Sammy launches into a rapid stretch of scatting, and I won't make a fool of myself by transcribing what he's actually saying, but just know that he makes the wildest mix of sounds, changing on a dime and picking out a completely different rhythm on top of some bass and keys with such energy and aplomb. He's throwing himself into it in a way that is just undeniably sexy, somehow. I can just tell, even via the audio, that this guy had stage presence.

And then we get a sax solo, introduced with a blasting notes and a shouted Blow, Sam! which is probably my favourite way that anybody can introduce a solo. I just like it when the singer gives their soloist a shout-out, okay?

And then the song brings it home with another few verses, livened up with a few handclaps, this time. It's a final excellent element of a song that doesn't ever let up or slacken off. The song starts strong, and remains strong all the way through, and honestly, it should be so much more well known than it is! What a banger!

I think my favourite is clear, here. Honestly, it's a shame - any other week, The Man from Laramie would have a real fighting chance, with its pulpy Western charm. But the star of the show today is clear. You can't beat a jazz number, if you throw the right energy at it, and Sammy's song is the definition of "the right energy". If you have not listened to it, go listen!

Favourite song of the bunch: Love Me Or Leave Me