#they pressured her into going to medical school
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
daaedoodles ¡ 1 year ago
Text
mia castries has childhood trauma.
that’s it, that’s the post
8 notes ¡ View notes
liver-f4ilure ¡ 3 months ago
Text
The Irkutsk Molotochniki: AKA The Academy Maniacs (BIG info post)
Tumblr media
NOTE: Haiii!! Sorry I haven’t been posting, I got a life! I’ve been writing this since AUGUST! But took a 3 month break. I kinda rushed the trial but everything else comes from Russian articles! <3
Early Life
Artyom Alexandrovich Anoufriev
RUSSIAN: Артём Александрович Ануфриев
Born October 4th, 1992, in Irkutsk Russia to mother Nina Ivanovna Anoufrieva and no father had been described positively by classmates despite being an outcast and his hard home life. Including a family friend who had known him ‘from the cradle’ who characterized Artyom as “Artyom is a good-natured boy, polite, I’ve never heard a bad word from him,”. According to his headmaster his mother had taught time to hate people and give given bad grades, would try coerce the teacher into psychologically pressuring her son. Artyom had good grades especially in English and literature, he had also shown interest in music and took lessons for the guitar and double bass. He had also joined, sang and played in a local music group before the groups organizer left.
Tumblr media
Artyom as a kid
During his older years Artyom started to mature and became more out going while his grades deteriorated. He shortly graduated high school with sufficiency. In his senior year his class filmed a farewell video, in which everyone gave their opinion on what happiness meant to them. In the video Artyom answer was: "To be honest, I do not know what happiness is. But I would really like to quickly find out what it is.".
After graduation Artyom went onto Irkutsk State Medical University while working at an art museum.
Three months before his arrest Artyoms neighbours reported hearing yelling and banging on the walls, like he was hitting the wall with his fists or running at it full speed. Artyom would yell “I hate everybody” and “I will kill you”. During the investigation Artyom would admit that at times his relationship with his mother was strained, and that he’d fear he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from killing her. According to Artyoms lawyer, Svetlana Kokareva, he often talked negatively about his mother and called her ‘defective’ as well as a generally negative attitude towards women. Nikita also reportedly experienced similar: his depression worsened, he stopped communication with family and he started experiencing insomnia.
Nikita Vakhtangovich Lytkin
RUSSIAN: Никита Вахтангович Лыткин
Born March 24th, 1993, in Irkutsk Russia to his mother Marina, who worked at a shoe store and to a father who left the family shortly after Nikita was born. His father than married another woman who died shortly after and whose son committed suicide in the wake of his mothers death. Nikita’s father would return but leave after due to his depression from his deceased ex wife. During Nikita’s childhood he would come and go. Many accounts say Nikita was bullied at school and instead of standing up for himself he would just reply with “die.” Because of this, Nikita was given the nickname ‘Jimbo’ as a reference to Jimbo Jones, a bully from ‘the simpsons’.
Tumblr media
Nikita as a kid
During junior high Nikita would do very well at studying and had good marks, he did not like math very much and in 5th grade was assigned to a special math class do to poor test results. Besides his good grades, Nikita was unsociable and uncommunicative. One family friend says this is because Nikita was jealous of his classmates with richer families. Because of his poor socialization Nikita started losing relations to friends.
Tumblr media
Nikita’s childhood home
Meeting
At a mutual friends birthday party Nikita (10) and Artyom (11) met, with the two studying at the same school but one studying a grade higher. The two quickly grew close and Nikita fell into a deep depression, only trusting Artyom at the time, the two supported each other. Artyoms mother did not support the twos friendship and stated that she thought Nikita would have a bad influence on her son. However, after graduating Artyom would continue to study and even enroll into medical school unlike Artyom, Nikita did not. In several reports Nikita either dropped out of school or got expelled for insufficient grades.
During their friendship the started a punk-rock band called ‘Злые гномы’ the band didn’t last long but in 2008 the band was able to put out an album called ‘Чёрные полосы крови’ (AKA. Black Streaks Of Blood) the pair soon started another band, a noise band, named ‘Расчленённая ПугачОва’ or ‘Dissected PugachOva’.
Violent Interests
The duo both had a common interest of maniacs and murderers. The most relevant being the Irkutsk ‘Blood Money Gang’ in March of 2010. The gang being led by 22-year-old Konstantin Shumkov. Shumkov though he was expelled from his educational institution, wanted to work with children. He gathered a group of teenagers from dysfunctional families to kill 5 homeless people and attack 3 others in 2009. The pair followed the news very closely and even dedicated an album to the gang with songs like “Killing is cool!”, “Massacre at a maternity hospital” and “I killed a homeless man”. Nikita also reportedly made a social media group out of sympathy for the gangs leader named ‘Irkutsk Anti Bom-Gang: Blood Magic’ in the introduction fornthe group the group declares their hopes to continue Shumkovs work.
“The "Dismembered PugachOva" group will continue the work of the "Blood Magic" not only in the musical sense, but also in the real sense. [...] There is no place for posers in our group. Only those who decide the fate of cattle or are only going to start serious actions are allowed. If you are determined, you are here.”
As well, they would most videos of the murders in the groups and told the members to ‘abandon empty posturing and commit at least one murder’
You may wonder how people didn’t think of that as a red flag, well, many visitors thought that the videos they posted were staged and that they were ‘young liars and braggots’.
The two made other social media groups such as "We are gods", "Pichushkin - our president" a reference to a fellow Russian serial killer and "Dissected Pugachova"in reference to their band by the same name. However I could not find what exactly they posted.
Possible Motives
There are a few theories on what the duos motives were, one theory is that they were pushed by Nationalist propaganda. Since for a while Artyom was apart of a white power skinhead group and given the nickname “Fashik- Natsik”. From Artyoms suggestion Nikita would converse online with the skinheads but was ultimately denied part in the group due to his discrediting Ossetian patronymic Vakhtangovich (Iranian-Caucasian decent). Their affiliation with the skinheads didn’t last, as one investigator states ‘they immediately sensed their animal cruelty and rejected them’ another report stated that Artyom felt the groups ideology was ‘too passive and soft’. The then leader of the skinheads ‘Boomer’ stated later in court that ‘Anoufriev felt hatred towards everyone, and did not care whom he killed’. After being arrested in the pre-trial detention room Anoufriev made a message that stated:
"I want to apologize to everyone. My advice to parents: forbid your children to visit sites of nationalistic nature in social networks,"
However, the duo isn’t thought to be hate oriented since they didn’t have any nationality in mind. Nor did they care about homeless people or immigrants. Anoufriev and Lytkin simply hated all of humanity all together and even openly stated it. A motive that both Anoufriev and Lytkin confirm is their desire to imitate other serial killers.
According to Anoufriev the idea of murder was Lytkins.and claimed that it, unlike Lytkin, did not give him the satisfaction he had hoped for. He says he only did it “he put it where it wasn’t necessary” and described Lytkin with "I will just say—he is a leader. He did not influence, but was an instigator of crimes,". However, during the investigation Anoufriev stated that he was planning on moving to St.Petersburg and commit more crimes had he not been arrested. Investigator, Yevgeny Karchevsky reports that Lytkin admitted that he couldn’t have done it alone and stated that “it wasn’t interesting to one” and “Artyom and I did it- I liked it”. Lytkin also stated, like Anoufriev, that he would’ve kept killing had he not been caught.
The two stated they would walk from 6pm - 10pm around the “State University” transport stop in Akademgorodok. They would miss 5-20 people while looking for a suitable victim.
Timeline of Crimes
November 14, 2010 - Anoufriev and Lytkin attacked an 18-year-old Anastasia Markovskaya while she was walking from the 19th school bus stop in the way of the Novo-Irkutsky Village. The two tried bashing her head in to which they were in some reports, scared off, while in others she played dead. Markovskaya reported on the Akademgorodok online forum about the attacked. Where Anoufriev and Lytkin responded and asked her how it felt to be beaten.
November 24, 2010 - the pair attacks an unnamed 46-year-old woman, stealing her bag.
December 1, 2010 - the pair attacks a woman, stealing 500 rubles which they used to buy mallets. Later the same day the pair spotted a 12-year-old Danil Semyonov going down a snowy hill on his sled. Nikita initiated a the idea of killing Semyonov to Artyom since he was a weak victim who couldn’t put up a strong Defense. After catching Semyonov Nikita struck him in the back of the head, knocking him down. Artyom then hit him with a baseball bat, Nikita then stabbed Semyonov in the temple with a penknife. Later when Danils mother and bother had found him and had paramedics called to the scene. However, after being caught in a traffic jam, Semyonov was dead before arrival. On Semyonov’s arm was found a hematoma (also known as, a bruise) curating the idea he either fought back or was grabbed roughly. The next day his sled was found in good condition. Semyonovs parents and police didn’t think it was a homicide and instead an accident, that he simply hit a birch tree at high speeds. However later Anoufriev and Lytkin stated that the boy was simply ‘training’ for them. He was the first victim killed.
December 16, 2010 - nearly 20m from the spot Semyonov was killed, a 69-year-old Olga Mikhailovna was found. Olga had been a researcher at the Research Institute for solar and terrestrial physics. The pair killed her quickly unlike Semyonov. She was found with 30 knife wounds. Nikita and Artyom had also made an audio recording discussing how they’d kill her, after which they recorded the murder.
December 29, 2010 - The pair first attacked 29-year-old Valentinovna Svetlova at 6am, who escaped. The pair only took her purse which they then threw out. She miraculously survived her attack. An hour after her attack 22 year-old coach Yekaterina Karpova, Karpova was pregnant during her attack while walking home with her 6-year-old niece Olga Averina. While walking to the railroad Karpova reported that she saw the pair but didn’t engage. While crossing the railroad the two were attacked by Nikita and Artyom, Averina managed to escape with being hit by Nikita in the sides, later being diagnosed with extensive hematoma in the liver area. Karpova had, had her skull crushed in and fingers snapped despite screaming that she was pregnant. The killers were scared off by a car pulling out from around the corner. In result to this, Karpova and her pregnancy miraculously survived.
January 1, 2011 - Around 5am Artyom and Nikita attacked a homeless man who lived near some garbage cans, inflicting 40 hit to him as well as smashing his head in with mallets. He died later in hospital and has been deemed ‘Corpse No.20’ since authorities couldn’t identify the man.
On January 15th a 19-year-old homeless man named Vladimir Bazilevsky, who had bloodied clothes was detained on suspicion of the previous murder. During the interview he told officials that he had spent the night in a sewer well however, officials began to make him believe otherwise and how Bazilevsky put it “Knocked a murder confession” out of him. After more investigation he was wrongfully convicted of murder and in April of 2011 was sentenced to 4 years. After the actual killers were arrested, DNA of the blood on his clothes didn’t match any of the victims. In May of 2012 after serving over a year and a half of prison time, Bazilevsky was released and all charges against him were dropped.
January 30, 2011 - The pair attacked a student named Oleg Semyonov who was returning home from a night club. He survived with head wounds, a concussion and traumatic brain injury.
February 3, 2011 - The pair attacks an unidentified elderly woman whom survived with a head injury.
February 8-9 date unknown, 2011 - At night the pair attacks another woman whom survived due to a passing by car.
February 21, 2011 - While walking home drunk from visiting his sister Alexander Petrovich Maximov was attacked and killed. His jaw and head had been completely broken, as well he had been decapitated with remainders of his skull being found afterwards. Lytkin shot him in the head with a Baikal air pistol and Anoufriev had tried to remove his eyes, but ultimately failed lacking the proper knowledge. Maximov had a closed casket funeral, unable to have an open casket.
February 27, 2011 - Lytkin single-handedly attacked a woman by the name of Nina Kuzmina whom was sitting on a bench located on Lermontov St. Lytkin hit her twice in the head, but because of Kuzmina making a ‘fuss’ a nearby man looking out his window scared Lytkin off, taking the woman’s phone with him. Kuzmina survived.
March 11 , 2011 - On a walkway near the State university bus stop, Anoufriev and Lytkin killed a homeless man by the name of Roman Faizullin. Anoufriev shot him in the face before the pair dragged him behind some bushes and off the street. The pair stabbed Faizullin in the head, chest and groin. Lytkin had attempted to cut the mans hand off but only managed his pinky finger. Later Anoufriev photographed the corpse from his apartment window since it was near.
After this attack a rally was held in the area to discuss what precautions and measures should be put in place. Anoufriev and Lytkin would go to these rallies and meetings, they would share ideas about the killers and would video tape the meetings. By this time police had already figured out that the killer was between ages 16-18 and set up patrol cars that would tour the area to reduce other attacks (which didn’t work). Still in the area there was misinformation which lead to the citizens fearing that the killer was a guy in his 30s.
The pair then gained the name the “Academy Maniacs” via a journalist for the Komsomolskaya Pravda, Olga Lipchinskaya since nobody could identify the boys.
??, 2011 - On an unknown date the pair attacked a homeless woman whom survived the attack due to an off duty police officer seeing the pair from out his window.
??, 2011 - on another unknown date the pair attacked a woman using a screwdriver. Since the place was crowded the pair left and the woman survived.
April 3, 2011 - The last of the pairs crimes. The two killed a 63-year-old homeless woman named Alevtina Kuydina. The woman was killed near a research institute, after killing her the pair filmed a video. On the video, filmed by Anoufriev, Lytkin can be seen cutting the woman’s earlobe off with a knife after being scolded by Anoufriev for not covering the knife in case of finger prints. Lytkin then tried to cut the woman’s hand off and gouge her eyes. When he couldn’t, he instead struck a knife directly into her eye and started stabbing. Later they dropped the woman’s earlobe off at the porch of a school. Anoufriev send the video to an online friend from St.Petersburg named Ilya Ustinov or known as online “Solomon Gojo” who said the video was sluggish he still however, distributed the video online.
Investigation/ Arrests
Investigators and police didn’t suspect the attacks to be from the same people, since the victims had no relation or anything alike. The investigation lasted months while the town was left in fear. But because of the crime spanning in such a small area the police were able to piece together a sketch of the suspects. The portraits were even sent to the workplace of Lytkins grandmother, the institute of organic chemistry, she noticed how the portrait looked eerily similar to her grandson. She sent her son Vladislav, Lytkins uncle, to his house to question Nikita. Once he got there nobody was home, Nikita having gone out for a walk (but suspected victim hunting). Nikita’s uncle however, found the camera he had lended him, on the camera he saw the video that the pair had filmed prior. After discussing, the family handed the video over to police and soon Lytkin was arrested, Anoufriev following shortly after. Prior to the arrest Lytkins mother had found a knife packaged in the hallway or in other sources, his pocket. When asked about the knife he simply stated it was for Defense.
A little piece of Trial
On March 6 of 2013 Lytkin stated that Anoufriev didn’t participate in four of the attacks and instead someone else accompanied him, Lytkin did give names but they were never publicly disposed. Lytkin also stated he had other accomplices however it’s theorized that he made this up to slow down the investigation. One day at the detention centre Lytkin told his mother "Why do they make the devil out of Artyom and I am so white and fluffy? We are both to blame. He is no worse and no better than me, we committed murders together." Anoufriev states that the police pressed Lytkin using threat of solitary. Lytkins grandmother also published an open letter claiming that she blamed Television, democracy, the internet, satanists and pornography for Lytkins corruption.
During the trial each boy had taken a different defence, Lytkin took leniency on him being a minor at the time of the crime and Anoufriev cause he had only pleaded guilty to 1 count of murder.
Sentencing, Transfers & Where they are now
Artyom:
On April 2nd 2013, Irkutsk Regional Court sentenced Anoufriev to life imprisonment in a special regime colony. On January 27th, 2014, Anoufriev was transferred to Ognenny Ostrov in the Vologda Oblast. After transferring, Anoufriev stated in interviews that he did not agree with the sentence and that his family was trying to get him out on parole, as well, he also stated that he was working on a book but did not explain what it was about. And in Febuary of 2017 Anoufriev stated that he had been studying Law at The University of Latvia.
Tumblr media
Artyom during the trial in the defendant cage
Nikita:
Also on April 2nd, 2013,Lytkin was sentenced to 24 years imprisonment with 5 of those to be soent in prison. Around October,2013, Lytkins sentenced was reduced to 20 years seeing as he was a minor during the events. Lytkin had made many transfers to prisons including:
Tumblr media
Nikita during the trial in the defendants cage
December, 2013- transferred from Irkutsk Colony to Sakha Republic
??, 2015- transferred to Kemerovo Correctional Colony No.41, where a psychologist had discovered he was dealing with a mental disorder
August, 2016- The prison attempted to transfer Lytkin to a psychiatric hospital however, the day before he attacked an inmate ,hoping that he would be transferred to the same colony as Anoufriev, instead on June
1st, 2017, the court ruled he was a dangerous repeat offender and sentenced to 11 years.
??, 2018- Lytkin was transferred to Angarsk Correctional Colony No.7
On the morning of November 28th, 2021, Lytkin was found in his cell with severe self inflicted wounds on his arms. Paramedics rushed him to Angarsk City Hospital, where on November 30th he was pronounced dead. Lytkins inmates stated that he had been subjected to bullying and others state he had threatened to do it when his sentence wasn’t reduced furthermore and when he wasn’t transferred to the same facility as Anoufriev.
1K notes ¡ View notes
bananayuyu ¡ 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cabin Fever [part 1]
Pairing: Yunho x f reader
Genre: fluff and smut
Word count: 9.8k
Summary: A trip to the woods with your friends is always the highlight of your year. But sometimes, your body gets in the way of you being able to enjoy anything. Thankfully someone is there to comfort you, in just the way you need.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, reader is on her period while said fingering is occurring, reader has really severe period cramps
A/n: My period this last week was the worst one I've had in a while, and I kept thinking the whole time I wished Yunho was there to comfort me. This is for my fellow chronically ill besties <3 I hope everyone is taking good care. Also I'm thinking of making a part two, if not turning this into a whole series as I have so many ideas of where to take things. Let me know your thoughts!
You can read part 2 here!
Tumblr media
Every year you and your high school friends visited your favorite cabin in the woods. It was cozy and old and probably too small for the seven of you; it was perfect for a summer get away. Each year you all saved up, and when the weather became too hot to bear in the city, you booked a week in the forest. The natural hot spring tub out back, the easy trails on the mountain behind, and the trees that occasionally graced you with their delicious fruit, made it your favorite place. Each and every summer you anticipated it with a giddiness that nothing else could make you feel.
***
You lived with two of your friends from high school, in a small two bedroom house not far from the neighborhood you grew up in. You and Seonghwa each had a bedroom, and Yunho's bedroom was the basement. You wouldn't have thought living with two men would lead to the clean and orderly house you resided in, but thankfully Seonghwa was as much of a clean freak as you. You lived meticulously, due to having many health issues that had been with you your whole life.
It started when you were little, with allergies developing what felt like every week. You had to be careful with what you ate, what you drank, what medication you took. Then there were the fainting spells, which started in high school. Eventually it was understood that your blood pressure was to blame, and your weak heart. And then there were your periods. Always horrible, no matter what you did. You had been put on every type of hormonal birth control at one point or another, and nothing worked. Finally you decided it wasn't worth it anymore, the hoards of drugs and doctor's appointments, and you decided to live a simple life instead, to take things easy, to not ever push too hard. To stop trying to force your body to be normal. You didn't really have a choice in the matter; your body broke down whenever it needed to, and school and work and your social life had to be pushed aside. It made these yearly trips to the woods all the more exciting. Sometimes it was the only time you got to see the group together all year.
This year as you, Seonghwa and Yunho prepared for your trip you realized one achingly frustrating thing. Your period was due to arrive on the fourth day of the trip, if it came on time. You sighed heavily when you realized this, dragging yourself up to grab pads, tampons for the hot spring, your massive bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad, and placing them in your suitcase. You just hoped it wouldn't be too bad, if it did come during the trip. Sometimes they could be late or early, and you hoped that maybe this time your body could make things easy on you, and delay it just a bit.
That night you fell asleep on the couch, accidentally staying up reading too late. As the morning light broke through the blinds you stirred, eyes squinting at the brightness. You groggily made your way towards the bathroom, barely seeing where you were going. You almost ran right into Yunho as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, and he grabbed your shoulders to prevent you from crashing into each other.
"Good morning," he said, laughing at the state of you.
"I fell asleep on the couch," you groaned.
"Yeah I know, I saw. The book was that good?" he teased. You rolled your eyes. He didn't totally understand your obsession with reading.
"So good it almost felt like I was playing a video game, or something," you teased back.
This was the nature of your relationship with him. He was one of your closest friends by far, but you two were just so different. You worked part-time as the assistant of an accountant, and in your free time read books. He was a choreographer with a crazy schedule, and loved nothing more than gaming whenever he could. He was full of energy; you were prone to exhaustion and fainting. He needed his busy schedule, his stimulating life. You could barely handle leaving the house most of the time. But regardless of these differences your friendship blossomed. With Seonghwa it was sweeter; he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. He was usually the one who took care of you when you'd had a bad allergic reaction, or helped clean up your room when you were far too exhausted to. But Yunho had been there every time you'd had a bad fainting spell, carrying you to the hospital, staying with you overnight. He was always there for you, and made you laugh when you felt like shit. He was an invaluable part of your life, even if he didn't totally understand you.
"Ari texted the group chat late last night, did you see?" he asked you. Ari was the only other girl in the friend group, and you usually shared a room with her on your trips.
"No, what did she say?"
"She's bringing San," he said.
"Ooh, we finally get to meet him for real," you reply, lifting your eyebrows in excitement at finally meeting her new boyfriend. You'd seen pictures and talked to her about him for hours, and you couldn't wait to finally meet him in person.
"And Wooyoung is gonna bring his cousins, I think?"
"Yeah he said he's bringing Yeosang and Jongho with him this year," you reply, having just heard the news the day before while packing. "There's going to be so many of us this year, I'm not sure how we'll all sleep and everything."
"We'll figure it out when we get there," Yunho says reassuringly. Then he looks at you and chuckles. You narrow your eyes, knowing he's laughing at you. "Just go look at yourself in the mirror," he says.
You playfully shove him out of the way and make your way into the bathroom, seeing your ridiculously messy hair he was laughing at. You quickly get yourself ready for the day, knowing you all have to leave soon to pick up Ari and meet up with everyone else. When you make your way to the kitchen you see that Yunho has made you a cup of chamomile, your favorite tea. As you sip it you taste the honey he added and smile, smile at the way he seemed to read your mind. You were craving chamomile with honey today.
Seonghwa exits his room looking extremely put together in a black turtle neck and fitted black pants, his suitcase fully packed and his hair perfectly coiffed. You look down at your tank top and comfy jean shorts, and back up to him.
"You always make me look so underdressed," you say with a small pout.
"Well, you're so beautiful so you don't even have to try," he says, pulling you into a hug. A crazy thing for him to say to you, given that he's literally employed as a model. And quite successfully, at that. "Some of us have things to compensate for, clearly." He spins around, showing you his outfit and laughing at himself.
"It looks so good, but you are going to burn up in the car, Hwa," you reply.
"I'll be fine, I'll be fine," he laughs.
"He's got someone to impress, y/n, remember," Yunho interjects, handing Seonghwa the cup of coffee he made for him. Hongjoong is who he means. You giggle of the memory of them hooking up at the last summer trip, thinking they were being so sneaky when everyone knew exactly what was happening.
"How are you simultaneously so annoying and so nice," Seonghwa says to Yunho, making you all laugh.
"That's the perfect description of him," you say, shooting Yunho a smirk.
"How dare you both," Yunho replies as he makes his way down to the basement to grab his bag. He also stops by your room and grabs your suitcase, taking both down to the car and placing them in the trunk. You and Seonghwa follow after him, your tea in one hand and book in the other. You couldn't wait for a little time spent reading in the cabin.
"It's so funny how he always carries my stuff for me, like I'm some weak little thing," you say to Seonghwa.
"Well you kind of are, honey," Seonghwa says, looking at you softly. Your health issues had been flaring up again recently, and it broke his heart to see his close friend suffering so much.
"I know. It's annoying," you reply, looking away from him as you exit your house. "I just hope nothing happens while we're on the trip."
"We'll all take care of you if anything does," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you.
"Thank you," you reply as you climbed into the back seat. You make eye contact with Yunho through the rear view mirror, his look attentive and curious.
"Ready?" he asks you, and you nod, holding his gaze. Since living with him, and really even since high school, he had driven you basically everywhere. You couldn't help but love it.
***
After meeting up with everyone at Ari's apartment you split into your two cars. You, Yunho, Seonghwa, Ari and her boyfriend San would be in Yunho's car. And Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho would be in Wooyoung's. You weren't sure how having ten people in the cabin would go, but you decided not to worry. This time of year was not for dread or anxiety; it was for joy and laughter.
After spending time on the drive talking to Ari and San, you realized he was just as handsome and kind as she told you. You squeezed her arm in excitement, elated that your friend had such a wonderful new boyfriend. Yunho and Seonghwa had expressed concern when they first started dating, given that Ari's last relationship wasn't healthy. But even they seemed swayed by just a few hours with San, with his sweet smile and warm conversation. You all arrived in the highest spirits, you and Ari ditching the car to let the boys carry your things while you excitedly ran to the backyard to dip your toes in the hot spring.
"God, I'm so excited we're back," she said, grabbing your hand. "And I'm excited you're meeting San. What do you think, so far?"
"He seems wonderful. Are you happy, is he always this kind?" You look at her fondly, wanting nothing more than for her to finally experience a healthy love.
"I'm so happy dude. It's just been so smooth, so calm. It's built the way I think these things are supposed to, you know? No rushing, no fighting and making up and fighting again. None of that awful shit that I used to look for. I feel like I'm finally an adult. I guess 25 is my 18," she laughs.
"Girl I'm 25 and barely even independent from my parents. You don't need to feel bad about what's come before." You squeeze her hand, a silent message of love passing between you. "I'm so, so happy for you."
As you make your way inside Yunho calls you over to him.
"Hey, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements. We were thinking Ari and San can have the room with the actual queen bed, and the rest of us boys can sleep in the living room on the couches. There's that little bed nook in the library, would you be okay sleeping there? I know you and Ari usually shared the real bed but I figure her and San would want to sleep in the same room together," he says.
"Oh, of course. But, are all of you going to fit out here with Yeosang and Jongho along?" you ask.
"Well, I'm not sure. We'll see."
"Isn't there a pull out couch in the library?" you ask. It's no surprise you know the small room better than him.
"There is?" he asks.
"Come, let's go see." He follows you through the cabin to your favorite room, seeing the small blue couch in the corner.
"I swear this thing extends or something," you say, crouching down to try to find where to push. Eventually it gives and starts moving, surprising Yunho. When it's finally extended it takes up a lot of the room, and looks almost goofy. But it's reasonably long, definitely somewhere someone else could sleep. You look up at Yunho, assessing how tall he is and how long the bed is. "Think you could fit?" you ask.
Yunho lays himself down, his legs hanging only slightly off the end of the new bed. You go and grab a pillow from your bed nook, tucking it underneath his head.
"Well it can fit one person, for sure. I doubt any more though, unless any of the boys want to be cuddled up that close," he says.
"Seonghwa and Hongjoong?" you offer. Yunho laughs.
"You want them in here doing stuff at night right next to you?" he asks. You cringe at his suggestion.
"They wouldn't do that to me," you say, shaking you head at him.
"You never know," he says, starting to make his way out of the room. "If you really just want the room to yourself, that's okay."
"No it's totally fine. You can sleep in here, if you want to. Or Seonghwa. I'd be okay with either of you. Just let me know."
Yunho nods as you both exit, heading back to the kitchen where everyone is getting ready to make dinner. Wooyoung has nine assistants today, far more than he really needs. But it's fun, bustling around the kitchen with everyone as you prepare a big feast to celebrate the start of the vacation. Soon you see Yunho carrying your bag to the library and soon after, his own bag. And you feel something in you become warm, something low in your gut.
"What are you thinking about?" Ari asks you, seeing the distant look in your eyes.
"Huh?" you say as you turn to her, genuinely surprised.
"You looked like you were daydreaming or something."
"Oh no, just spacing out, sorry," you chuckle, not sure what had just come over you.
"Well look what I got you," she says, holding up a giant bag of your favorite cheesy crackers.
"So I guess you can read my mind or something?" you joke, grabbing the bag and her in a big hug. "Wait, wait right here. I have something for you too."
You run over to the library to grab the bracelet you made Ari last month. You still hadn't had a chance to give it to her and you couldn't wait. As you enter you see Yunho slowly unpacking his bag, setting his phone and charger on the small end table by the blue couch. You rifle through your own bag to find the small box you had packed for Ari, yourself unpacking a few things in the process. In the silence of the moment you begin to feel warm again; you look over at Yunho and soak in his messy hair, his loose clothing that makes him look so soft and comfy. You stare unabashedly, unsure of what's come over you. Usually you hate starting, hate eye contact.
"What?" is all he says, but you feel like there might be something more he wants to ask.
"So you're staying in here?"
"Yeah, Hwa wants to stay with Hongjoong out there. I figured you would rather it just be one person in here with you, more comfortable for you."
You smile and reach your arms out to him, still sat on the floor. He gives you a quizzical look, unsure what your gesture means.
"Come, give me a hug," you say. "You've been so thoughtful today."
In the short moments of your hug a silence hangs around the two of you. Yunho had never been one for serious sincerity. He definitely never knew what to say when you said things like this. When he stayed with you in the hospital and you cried in his arms, thanking him endlessly for being there with you. When your allergic reactions left you weak and groggy and you wouldn't stop telling him how much you loved him, and how much you worried he'd abandon you for being so needy and sick. You said the same to Seonghwa too, but Yunho could understand that better. It made more sense to him. When you said it to him it made his brain stop in a way that he still hadn't figured out.
***
The evening was off to a perfect start. Ari loved her bracelet, the project you had been promising to make her for months now, and everyone else loved it too. Everyone showered you with compliments and showered Wooyoung with them too, after tasting the delicious meal he had whipped up. You all gathered in the living room to eat, spreading out over the large L-shaped couches and the floor. A favorite cheesy movie was watched, a bottle of wine opened. Everyone laughed and relaxed, helping to clean up in the kitchen after the movie was over. And then to the hot spring you all went, as was tradition. You always started and ended the holiday with a group soak; attendance was mandatory.
In the heat and steam of the tub everyone opened up, even the most quiet among you. There was something about the nature of the tub that made everyone vulnerable, and for you it had always been one of the best parts of these trips. Everyone was cuddled up together given the size of the tub, and the proximity seemed to fuel the spilling of secrets. This year especially, with all ten of you, everyone was shoulder to shoulder. Ari sat on San's lap to try to save on space, and as everyone began piling in you ended up squeezed between Seonghwa and Yunho. The crowdedness felt like too much for you, and before he could make an objection, you decided to sit on Yunho's lap.
"There's not enough room in here," you said quietly to him when you felt his surprise.
"Yeah I know," he replied, letting you wrap his arms around you. You sensed some tension and hesitation in him, though.
"Should I move?" you asked, turning around to face him.
"No, no, you're fine. How else will we fit everyone?" he replied.
You turned around satisfied but then caught a smile on Mingi's face, one that seemed to be in reaction to you and Yunho. You shot him a confused look and he glanced away, clearly feeling caught in his reaction. And then you turned and saw Wooyoung eyeing you, too.
"What?" you said to him, turning your head and looking at him sideways.
"Nothing, nothing." But then his characteristic smirk formed on his lips; he had lost the fight in trying to delay it. You knew exactly what this meant.
"Oh god, don't tell me you have some huge piece of gossip to share with all of us," you said, sighing. It was always Wooyoung who started out with something, anything dramatic to share. He always broke the ice, and really, you appreciated it. Even if you made fun of him for being so obsessed with gossiping.
"Well, no, not really," he replied, looking almost shy. It didn't seem very characteristic of him. He took a deep breath and swallowed, and you all held your breath as you awaited his story.
"He has a crush," Mingi broke in, clearly not wanting to wait any longer. "It's this woman who choreographed for that music video we worked on a couple of weeks ago." Mingi and Wooyoung were backup dancers, and often worked on projects together.
"It's not just a crush, we're like kind of dating now," Wooyoung added, clearly shocking Mingi with this new information.
"Are you serious?" Mingi replied, and Wooyoung nodded his head. "Guys she's gorgeous. And so intense and smart. And isn't she like 40?"
"She's 37 Mingi, god," Woo replied, giggling and looking very pleased with himself. It had been a long time since he'd even been interested in dating, and everyone in the tub was looking surprised and amused. "We actually.... we hooked up on set one day."
"Wooyoung! Bad idea!" you replied, shocked he would even share this information. But then again, you were in the hot spring tub. And plenty of wine had been consumed.
"How did you even manage that?" Mingi laughed.
"In a trailer, you know.." Wooyoung trailed off, clearly embarrassed and nervous to tell the story. But just as always it had achieved the affect it needed to, and soon everyone was spilling their secrets, updating everyone on every funny thing that had happened in the past year. You continued to sip your wine, drinking slowly given how much of a lightweight you were. You hadn't finished your first glass still, even through the movie and dinner. Yunho kept making you drink water too, nervous that you'd become dehydrated and get sick. As the night wore on you relaxed more into his lap, more into his arms. You held his hands on your lower stomach, over that place that felt so warm earlier when you looked at him. Finally, when everyone decided to call it a night, he wrapped a towel around you both and led you through the dark path back to the house. In your tipsy state you kept repeating "shower, shower" so he led you there, running to grab your phone when you demanded it. As you stripped out of your swimsuit and took a look at yourself in the mirror you saw that happy girl you always saw here, surrounded by her favorite people and completely content. The shower was quick but felt delicious, and as you exited you felt blissful and relaxed. Until you realized you'd forgotten to bring a towel with you.
There were only two bathrooms in the cabin, one connected to the actual master bedroom with the actual queen bed, and one for everyone else to share. You couldn't walk through the house naked and dripping with so many people here, especially Wooyoung's cousins who you didn't know well. Thankfully your phone was still there on the counter where Yunho had left it, so you called him.
"Can you bring me a towel?" you asked when he answered. And then quickly, "and some clothes too, please."
"Anything else, your highness?" Yunho teased you.
"Shut up, I'm cold," you whined.
"What clothes do you want?" he asked.
"Just, those black shorts and one of my t-shirts, I don't care which. Just something comfy for sleeping in."
"No underwear?" he asked.
"Yes no underwear, I'm about to go to bed. I usually sleep naked but I have to wear clothes when we're here." You swore his breath hitched a bit.
"Be there in a moment," he replied before ending the call. In a moment he was there, knocking on the door. You opened it slowly, and saw him holding his arm out to you while dramatically facing his head the other way.
"You don't have to be so damn weird, I know you've seen plenty of naked humans in your life," you said, laughing at him.
"You make me sound like a slut," he replied.
"Maybe you are, how am I to know."
"I can't believe you of all people are calling me a slut."
"What the hell does that mean?" you ask, eyes wide.
"I know those little romance books you read are full of smut," he challenges you.
"I'm literally reading a book about history right now, thank you very much," you respond.
"Yeah the history of changing attitudes about sex. Even your non-fiction reads are horny."
You stand still for a moment, mouth agape. You didn't realize Yunho payed that much attention to the books you were reading. To know what he just said about your current book, he would have had to at least read the synopsis on the inside cover, if not a bit of the introductory chapter. You feel a little weird that he'd sneakily been perusing your book when you hadn't been looking, probably this morning while you were asleep on the couch, you guessed. But something about it felt really nice too. Like he cared to know you, cared to know about the things you liked. Even if they were so different from what he usually was into.
"Are you two good?" Seonghwa asked as he meandered down the hall, hearing the slight intensity in your tone during your conversation with Yunho. At the sound of his voice you both snapped out of it, and at seeing you naked he turned around with a quick, 'oh, sorry,' before heading back to the living room.
You dried off and dressed quickly, realizing you spent several moments naked in front of Yunho while you argued. It wasn't really an argument, more a discussion maybe? Or a confession? He admitted to knowing what kind of books you liked to read, and you hadn't denied it. None of it had to mean anything, you implored yourself. As you had said, he'd seen plenty of other people naked before. Well, at least several. It's just the trip, the glass of wine consuming your brain and making you fuzzy. But it felt like things had shifted that day.
***
As you and Yunho settled into bed you began chatting, and before you knew it, it was the early hours of the morning, the time you rarely stayed up to, the time when the world felt like a completely different place to you.
"I've missed you," you said, sighing into the comfort of the blankets and pillows beneath you.
"Me too," Yunho replied, quickly. Like the response was almost involuntary. You opened your eyes to look at him, as his words weren't what you were expecting.
"I'm sorry I've been so busy. I miss hanging out with you, just the two of us," he continued. "You're one of my favorite people on planet earth, you know that right?" It was completely out of character for him. Like the years of sincerity he'd kept inside had been begging to be let free and he finally obliged. You sat up and walked to the couch he laid on, mere steps from your bed. You leaned down next to him and hugged him, too tired to give a verbal response. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his shoulder, relaxing on top of him completely.
"Are you still tipsy?" he asked.
"No, why?" you asked. You were too tired to move your head.
"You're only this touchy when you're drunk usually."
"I don't really ever get drunk though."
"I know, I mean, this is how you used to get when you would get drunk. Like in high school, when we'd drink."
"Oh. Sorry?" you asked. You didn't really understand why he was telling you this.
"No, I like it. I was just, trying to joke around," he sighed. "Wasn't the right moment probably. Wasn't funny."
You fell into a silence again, briefly.
"So it's fine, right? I can hug you?" you asked.
"Yes, of course." To prove his point he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. "You seem happy right now, today."
"I am, these trips always make me happy," you reply.
"Your happiness means a lot to me." He seemed almost nervous to say it, like he had to work himself up to it.
"Why are you being so sappy today?" you laugh, nuzzling farther into him. He glanced at the clock on the wall, looking for an excuse.
"It's 2am, I don't know."
"Shit, it's that late? I should really get some sleep." You knew the plan for tomorrow was hiking up to the water fall, and though the hike was neither long nor strenuous, you still wanted to be well rested. "Goodnight," you said as you dragged yourself up, planting a quick peck on his cheek before crawling into your bed. Sleep enveloped you quickly, given the relaxing nature of the day and the late hour. Yunho turned himself over, trying to get comfortable on the small pull out couch. You didn't see the bright pink of his cheeks, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You had no idea you had any affect on him. A life of sickness had left you mostly uninterested in pursuing romantic affections, and you'd truly never dreamed of a long term romantic partnership with anyone. Yunho knew this, well. But he couldn't stop his feelings, no matter how hard he tried to.
***
In the morning you were woken by a bright, hot stream of sun that shined through the window, that late morning sunshine that is surprisingly warm on clear-skied days like today. With a groan you cracked open your eyes to see that Yunho had already awoken and left, the room silent. Your head felt groggy and your stomach ached a bit, and you instantly scolded yourself for drinking your first night and staying up so late. Sure, it had been fun in the moment, but you couldn't afford to make yourself feel poorly on such a special trip. You hoisted yourself up, taking a swig from your nearly empty water bottle that Yunho must have put on the side of your bed. You certainly didn't remember putting it there.
When you finally pushed yourself up to stand you felt something wet on your bed. You turned around expecting to find some spilt water, but were instead greeted with a disappointing and frustrating sight. A small streak of blood ran across the beautiful, light blue sheets. As you felt around your shorts you found a spot there too, wet and cold against your fingers. You let out a frustrated sigh, running yourself to the bathroom with a new change of underwear and shorts and a pad in hand. You desperately rinsed your shorts in the sink, your mind beginning to spin and spin. What were you going to do about the bedsheets?
As you came back into your small room you didn't notice Yunho, your focus entirely on where you could hang your shorts to dry. When he spoke you jumped back in complete shock, nearly falling over.
"You okay?" he asked, lurching forward to try to prevent you from falling. You thankfully caught yourself in time, but then your eyes wandered to your bed and you knew he'd seen.
"I don't know what I'm gonna fucking do," you started, tears forming your eyes from the embarrassment. It wasn't getting your period that made you feel so weird, it was the fact that you'd stained the nice bedsheets at the nice cabin you and your friends were renting, and it was only the second day.
"Well, what do you need? I'm sure we can get that stain out of the sheets," Yunho offered, hoping it would make you feel better.
"We? They have my blood on them," you responding, trembling. Why were you so worked up, what the hell had gotten into you? Your own anxiety at the situation shocked you and Yunho both.
"It's just blood, y/n. And it's like barely anything." Yunho grabbed your upper arms to steady you, worried your trembling would land you in a heap on the floor. And then suddenly, a horrible cramp stabbed its way through your abdomen. You immediately groaned and grabbed your side, leaning against one of the bookshelves to support yourself.
"Fuck, I need my Tylenol," you breathed out, trying to calm yourself. It felt like your entire body was collapsing on you in an instant. And your period had only just started early this morning, maybe only a few hours ago from the looks of it.
Yunho grabbed two Tylenol and and opened your water bottle, offering you both one after the other. He had seen Seonghwa do this many times and he hoped he was doing it right. You quickly swallowed the pills and took a deep breath, worried you wouldn't be able to join everyone for the hike that day. A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, wanting to push down your feelings of discomfort.
"I just need to wait until this kicks in and I'll be okay," you said, hoping it sounded convincing. Hoping it was true.
"Let me clean your sheet, then," Yunho said, leading you down to lay on the pull out couch.
"Do you even know how to clean out blood?" you asked, shoving your face into his pillow. It smelled so good and suddenly you felt warm again, this time through your whole body.
"I was gonna ask Ari about it," he said. "If it's okay for me to tell her."
"Ask Hwa for help too, he knows," you replied. With a sigh you wrapped yourself tightly in his blanket, hiding your face. Everything that had happened this morning was so frustrating, and you couldn't stop feeling angry at your body for always ruining your plans.
Remarkably, twenty minutes later you did feel a lot better. No more severe jabs of pain had come, and once you got some food in you and washed your face, you felt ready for the day. Everyone packed their bathing suits for the falls and put on their good shoes for hiking, and with snacks and waters in hand you made your way up to the edge of the forest to find the start of the trail.
You walked arm in arm with Ari, picking flowers off the side of the path to put in each other's hair. The blossoms in this area were beautiful during this time of year, and the trees made the trail quiet and calm and cool. When you ran out of space in Ari's hair you started putting the flowers in Seonghwa and Hongjoong's too, the only other two who walked the trail as slowly as you and Ari did. Even with the slow pace you began to feel queasy about half way up, and when you sat down, unable to take it anymore, Seonghwa called out to Yunho. He came and crouched down in front of you, telling you to climb onto his back, and carried you the rest of the way, the gentle breeze blowing his hair into your face and tickling your nose. It was a bit longer now than it had been in a while, looking almost like a shaggy mullet. As it brushed across your face you realized you thought it looked really good on him, how it complimented his long neck and round cheeks. You shook your head trying to stir yourself out of your daydream. You had always recognized he was attractive, but you didn't like him like that, never had. Why did you care how well his hairstyle complimented his face?
At the falls you sat on a long log at the edge of the small lake, not feeling up to swimming and playing with everyone else. Seonghwa could sense it easily, and after Yunho asked for his help that morning cleaning your sheets he knew why. He sat with you, not bothering to put on his suit either. He had wanted to talk to you anyway, wanted to spend a moment alone. These trips were always fun but it was hard to get one on one time with anyone.
"You okay?" he asked as you watched the others playing in the water, Yunho and Mingi wrestling each other for an inflatable ball. It seemed like they were all playing some sort of water polo from the looks of things.
"Yeah, yeah. Just my period. How are you?" you asked turning to him, seeing the conflict behind his eyes.
"I'm... I'm fucking spiraling, girl." He shook his head and dropped it onto your shoulder, letting out a massive sigh.
"Why, cause of that guy?" you asked, looking in the direction of Hongjoong. Seonghwa just nodded. In the brilliance of the mid day sun Hongjoong looked like he was shining, his tattoos standing out starkly against his pale skin. The ball was in his hand and San lunged for him, and he threw it up just in time as they crashed into each other, a laughing mess. As the two came up for air San was repeatedly apologizing, the both of them being yelled at by the other players to get back in the game. After some more moments of play Hongjoong grabbed onto a rock on the side of the small lake underneath the waterfall, pulling himself up to grab a bottle of water a few feet away. As he pulled himself up you saw the ripple of his chest and abdomen.
"Damn, he's like really ripped," you said, smiling down at Seonghwa.
"Don't say shit like that to me," he groaned into your shoulder. "You're just making this worse."
"What's wrong? Why are you spiraling?" you asked him.
"Dude, I like him a lot. Like a lot a lot." Seonghwa's hand came up to his face, a small whimper escaping his lips. You knew he was on the verge of crying.
"Come here," you said, turning towards him to give him a proper hug. "Everything's gonna be okay."
"Not if he doesn't like me back," Seonghwa replied.
"He obviously likes you back, what do you mean?"
"I'm just, I just- I don't know what's going to happen. When we all go back to the city. When we're here we're all over each other but then real life comes and I barely see him. I thought I was over it. But clearly not." Soft tears fall from his eyes, down his cheeks and onto the dirt of the forest floor.
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry," you replied, rubbing your hand up and down his back to comfort him. "You've got to talk to him about it."
"I know, I know, I just." He sighed. "I know I need to, and it's gonna be awkward as hell but I just need to."
"You can do it, I know you can," you said, squeezing him tightly. "Crushes are the fucking worst, aren't they?"
Seonghwa laughed as you separated, wiping the final tears from his cheeks and sighing more freely. He knew you'd always be there for him, no matter what happened. You didn't need to say it now. And you'd already discussed how it might be awkward for the group if they dated and then broke up. Last year, after your last cabin trip, it was discussed. Even with Yunho. You all agreed that Hwa should do what he wanted, and not worry about everyone else in the group. You were all adults now, and he didn't need to torture himself just to save everyone else's feelings. But it seemed he had tortured himself this last year, anyway. You had thought he maybe was over Hongjoong, that it was just a little fling at the cabin that year. But now you saw that wasn't true.
***
Back at the cabin Wooyoung made another delicious meal, and everyone gathered around the table in the living room for some charades. You took more Tylenol with dinner, your cramps having returned in full force once you made it back to your home base. All through dinner and games you tried to put on a smile, tried to get distracted in the fun. But it wasn't working. As soon as you finished your food you excused yourself, cleaned your dishes and then made your way to your room. You changed your pad for what felt like the fourth time that hour, then plugged your heating pad into the wall as you readied your bed. It was maybe only seven or eight in the evening, but you couldn't take it any longer. And your trusty Tylenol didn't seem to be working well tonight.
After some time resting in bed you heard the door open. Turning your head you saw Yunho walking in with a steaming cup of tea, gingerly handing it over to you to grab.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. The gentle light from the lamp in the corner made his eyes look soft and shiny. He looked down at you with concern, his eyes locked on yours.
"I'm okay," you managed, trying hard not to wince obviously at the pain that had just seared through you.
"I thought, some tea might help. I don't know," he said, his cheeks and ears going every so slightly crimson.
"It does, it's very soothing. Thank you, Yuyu," you said, his favorite nickname rolling off your tongue. Another streak of pain runs through you and you can't stop your face from scrunching up in pain, making Yunho's heart sink.
"What can we do, what makes it better?" he asked.
"There's not much, really, other than what I've done. I took my Tylenol, I've been drinking water, my heating pad, this tea..." You trailed off, smiling for a second at the only other method you know to help alleviate the cramps a bit.
"What, is there something else?" Yunho asked.
"No, well, not really. Basically, at home sometimes if my cramps are really bad it actually helps to like, you know, masturbate. Like it doesn't even necessarily feel super sexual, it just seems to help the muscles down there like relax, when they're all tight and like spasming and stuff." You quickly took a sip of your tea, suddenly noticing your heart rate had sky rocketed. "Obviously I can't do that here, so like it's not an option right now but, yeah, that just, uh, came to my mind."
"You can do that here, if it would help," Yunho replied, fascinated by your rambling. You really didn't get that way often, and he thought it was funny that this was the topic that made you this way.
"No, stop. Plus, I don't even have my tools or anything," you blurted out, suddenly wishing you hadn't.
"Tools?" he asked.
"You know, like, vibrator, dildo, et cetera," you replied, looking at him mildly mortified.
"Ah, I see," he replied with a simple nod of his head. "You don't have to be so nervous talking to me about this. I literally saw you naked last night. Plus, I swear I've heard you and Hwa talking about this kind of stuff a lot?"
Your body fluttered at his admission that he looked at your naked body, and suddenly you felt flushed and flustered. "It's different with him," you said, not meaning to sound so pissed.
"Why, cause he's gay and I'm not?" Yunho asked. He really was genuinely curious.
"Yeah, I guess, I don't know. Yunho, I can't do this right now. I feel like shit." Tears welled in your eyes at all of the conflicting feelings you were having, and you just wanted everything to stop.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he replied, his tone softer. He came over to stroke his hand through your hair, hoping it would distract you from your pain. "I just want to make you feel better."
"There's not really much to do, I just have to bear it. First day is always the worst. Go, have fun with everyone. I don't want this to ruin your evening along with mine."
With a final stroke of your hair Yunho stood, and repeating your action from the night before, leaned down and planted a kiss on your cheek.
"Feel better," he said. This time he saw the color come to your cheeks, and your shy smile as your turned your head away from him.
***
When he reentered your room it was dark, only the light from the moon illuminating the floor. Your heating pad was on the floor, and as he walked towards you it looked like you were asleep; your eyes were closed, breaths were steady and you were curled up on your side with your blanket tucked high into your neck.
He settled down himself, trying his best to be silent. The pull out couch wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, if he was honest. But he really liked sleeping with you in here, and he was thankful you had let him. He had wanted to ask you straight away, when you showed him the pull out couch. But he treaded lightly, not wanting to push anything.
After a few moments spent responding to texts he finally settled into bed, curling up himself. He heard you shifting around slightly but figured you were just dreaming. Same with the changes in breath he swore he heard. He pleaded with himself to stop worrying and just let you be. But then, he heard a sniffle. Then another. And finally a small whimper, unmistakeable.
"Y/n, you're awake aren't you?" he asked, his voice low. All you could do was let out a groan in response. On instinct Yunho's body shot up, and within a second he was at the side of your bed peering down at you. "Hey, look at me."
You turned over slowly, the pain of your abdomen making it hard for you to move. You looked up at him and he caught a glimpse of your tear stained cheek, your blood shoot eyes and your puffy face. You had been crying, silently, for a while.
"Why did you turn off your heating pad?" he asked you.
"I need to sleep," you squeaked out, sniffling.
"But you're in pain," he said, resting his hand on your cheek. "Can I turn it back on for you?" You nod your head, feeling exasperated and desperate for relief.
"Are you sure there's nothing else that would help? What if I rubbed your back?" Yunho asked, as desperate for your pain to end as you were.
"That might help," you manage, closing your eyes and trying to take in the relief of your heating pad being back on.
Yunho crawls behind you on the bed, and slowly starts massaging you back, focusing his movements on your low back and side that you always seemed to grab onto. His hands feel searingly hot on your body, even with your thin shirt in between, and you begin to tremble uncontrollably.
"Sorry, I'm so cold," you tell him. "And I didn't bring anything warm to wear cause I'm stupid and assumed it would be hot out here."
"Hey, hey, stop that. You are not stupid," he replies. You feel him pull away for a second. "Here, sit up," he says as he reaches his arms out to help you. Before you know it you're being enveloped in the feeling of his hoodie that he just took off; it's warm and smells sweet. He settles back behind you, hands under the hoodie but still over your shirt as he continues to massage you gently. He can feel how tight the muscles in your back and side are, and he can't imagine how awful everything feels inside.
With his hoodie on and his hands on your back you feel like you're surrounded by him, and you aren't ready for the way it makes you feel. You're still groggy but you feel more grounded, and your body feels tingly and alive. It makes the pain almost more present, but it also makes everything else so clear, like the way his strong hands move along your side and the way the hoodie smells better than anything. Your body aches, even your legs, but it's your throbbing pussy that catches you off guard, the way his smell makes you want to open up and be taken.
All at once you realize the dilemma you are in. Being horny on your period wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, but now you were in a bed, horny on your period with a beautiful man, one who clearly loves you and wants nothing more than to make you feel better. You sigh, putting a hand on his to stop his movements, and you roll over to face him. His perfect face is inches from yours and you can't bear it, instead moving yourself down to bury your face in his chest. Your legs intertwine as you grab onto him, the two of you cuddling closer than you have in a very long time. He reaches his arm around you to keep rubbing your back, nuzzling his face into your hair. He's never told you, but he loves the smell of your hair so much. You use an unscented shampoo, due to your sensitivities. So he knows it's just your smell. And fuck it makes him feel creepy, but he's thankful every time you hug him and he gets a moment to take in that smell. Now, as always, he's fighting with himself to not get hard.
Your sighs become deeper as he continues to rub, and he reaches his hand under your shirt, testing the waters. You sigh blissfully at the skin to skin contact, his hand making your skin feel alive. As he keeps rubbing your head falls back, your body going nearly slack at how good it feels. You don't even realize for a moment but you've started moving your hips, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh that sits in between your legs. Your breath deepens and Yunho can't believe what he's seeing, his head swimming with desire as he watches your face, hears your soft sounds. A surge of pride washes through him at seeing how good you are feeling. "Baby," the word slips out of his mouth and you open your eyes, met with his large pupils and full pink lips.
"Kiss me," you whisper, opening your lips to let him in. He doesn't hesitate a moment, and suddenly your met with plush softness and his warm tongue as it brushes ever so slightly across yours. The feeling is intoxicating, igniting something in you that you hadn't felt in a long time. Your buck your hips against his leg harder, almost painfully, but it feels necessary. Your pussy is throbbing harder now, harder than you thought was really possible for you. You deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider and sliding your tongue over his, moaning at the way it makes your clit feel. You need more, need something inside you soothing the aching muscles of your cunt, but you don't want to break the perfection of the kiss. You break away for a second, whimpering and throwing your head back in pained bliss. When your lips make contact again your hands are under his shirt and grabbing onto him, desperation dictating your every move.
"Please, can I touch you? Can I make you feel better?" he's asking, and his voice feels so good in your ear it's almost like you're on another planet.
"I'm bloody," you cry softly, the reality of the situation still not entirely escaping you.
"You really think I care about that?" he asks you, his hand coming up to brush along your cheek. You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to let him take care of you. Another wave of pain strikes through you and you whimper, grabbing your side again. Yunho brushes over it, kissing you gently on the cheek. More tears form in your eyes, the pain not subsiding this time. You begin to cry, your body shaking as you do. You don't know what else to do.
"Please help me," you plead out, still shaking.
"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks, moving his hand down, now rubbing over your hip and upper thigh. The closer his hand gets to your core the more needy you feel, and you whine and buck your hips into him instead of responding.
"Baby please use your words, I don't want to hurt you," Yunho begs you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"Inside, please. But be gentle, the muscles are so tight," you say with a pout, making Yunho's head spin.
"Wait a sec," he says, moving off your bed to grab a towel from his bag. He places it down next to you and then begins removing your shorts and panties, one at a time. He's slow and steady in his movements, which makes it feel all the more intimate. Once they are off he gently moves you onto the towel and then slowly spreads your legs, massaging your thighs as the muscles there are tight as well. Your short frame dwarfed in his hoodie is maybe the cutest thing he's ever seen, and the look of desperation on your face is maybe the hottest.
"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and his hands oh so close to where you need them. You nod, spreading your legs even more in an invitation. Slowly he makes his way up, gently brushing his hand over your exposed lips, hoping not to shock you with the contact. Once you've settled into his touch he finally starts circling your entrance, making you mewl in anticipation. He sinks one finger in and immediately you groan in relief, already feeling so full. He can't believe how tight you are, can't believe that only one finger can fit. He begins moving slowly, as gently as he can, stroking up and down and finding that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your body immediately starts feeling better, the muscles in your core finally having something to squeeze onto. Your pussy feels warm and perfect and he desperately wants to see you come undone, on his fingers, on his cock. As you relax into his touch he feels your walls finally open up a bit, and slowly he pulls back, this time pushing two fingers in.
The wave of pleasure is instant, filling your low belly with sparkly warmth. You begin to rock yourself onto his fingers too, desperate for a bit more. He starts moving with a bit more force, still holding back and scared to hurt you. It's just the right amount of speed and pressure and you find your mind drifting, everything around you feeling warm and tingly and soft. You don't pay attention to your sounds; you don't care. Finally after your terrible day of pain he's taking care of you, and you just relax and let your body take control. Your high is building, oh so slowly. You can feel it in your legs all the way to your toes, the sparklers dancing down your body. Yunho's own breathing deepens as you start to moan, his body reacting to your sounds of pleasure. He needs desperately to make you come, to make you feel good. But he can feel your body resisting, ever so slightly.
"Baby, relax, relax if you can," he coos down at you, stroking his free hand over your thigh muscles that still feel tight. "Just focus on what feels good."
Your mind goes to his long fingers, to how deep they are inside you, how perfect they feel. The pressure in the perfect spots, making your entire body loose and happy. Suddenly he moves his free hand up, his thumb stroking gently over your clit. You moan loudly, all of your muscles finally releasing, and suddenly the feeling builds out of nowhere, from your fingertips and your toes and the top of your head, surging towards your center. You come, gently at first and then harder as Yunho continued to stroke you, intense pleasure rolling over you. It takes a long time for you to fully ride it out, your whole body processing what just happened. Finally your head feels clear and settled, your body no longer achey.
In the moonlight Yunho cleans you up, kissing you and whispering, 'I'll be right back.' After cleaning his hand and helping you back into your panties and shorts, he wraps himself around you, kissing your cheek and your exposed neck and relishing the relaxed state of your body. You are out before you know it, his warmth sedating.
***
A light storm rolled over the mountain in the night, covering the sky in gentle clouds. Without the brightness of the sun to wake you, you and Yunho both slept in, your bodies wanting nothing other than rest and each other's company. In the later hours of the morning Seonghwa became concerned, worried that you weren't doing well. When you left dinner early the night before he worried too, but when Yunho checked on you and returned assuring him that you were fine, he had let it go. He never wanted you to feel bothered, like he was keeping too close of an eye on you. You were your own person and capable of asking for what you needed. He knew that.
But when the time reached 11am he couldn't stop himself. It was just weird, given how early you had gone to bed, and the fact that you were normally an early riser. Gently he opened the door to the library, feeling mildly awkward. He wasn't sure what he would be greeted with, thought he did have a few ideas. He shook his head trying to brush his suspicions away. He knew if they were really true, you both would have told him.
"Y/n," he called from the open door, not seeing Yunho on the couch. Your body was hidden by the nook in the wall you slept in, forcing him to walk more into the room. You groaned at the sound, coming up from such a deep state of sleep. You didn't realize where you were, didn't realize Yunho was still cuddling you. As you went to stretch you accidentally hit him, waking him up with a jolt.
"Fuck, sorry," you said in a groggy voice, laughing. He instantly wrapped around you tightly, his mind not totally awake. As he squeezed you tight you let out a squeak, not expecting it. Neither of you realized Seonghwa was right there.
"So I'm guessing you're both okay?" Seonghwa said, and your brain finally registered it. You looked up at him in shock, feeling suddenly exposed. You nodded, trying not to be awkward. What did it matter really, that Yunho was sleeping in the same bed as you?
"I'm feeling better," you replied. "Got a lot of sleep."
"Sure," Seonghwa chuckled, looking between the two of you.
"Hwa! Go away!" you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Yunho remained uncharacteristically quiet behind you, but his arms didn't leave you for a second.
"Okay I will. Just glad you're alive," he chuckled again, making his way out of the room.
You shoved your face in your pillow, pushing yourself back further into Yunho's embrace.
You definitely had some explaining to do.
839 notes ¡ View notes
cherrylovelycherry ¡ 2 months ago
Note
Okay, maybe Ratio x gn!reader tarte aux fraises? i know u love ratio muehehe
.note. omg oke oke, i know what i have to do. ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ (I always end up writing so many words that I have to erase pieces of the original idea. T_T)
Tumblr media
𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Try hard
Tumblr media
pairing. dr ratio x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, academic pressure, ratio being rude, again. synopsis. Like he said, you just need to try hard. And if you can't handle the pressure, what better than to withdraw from medical school? full menu
Tumblr media
"No," His eyes on you, by those sharp words, coming together with the other glances of your classmates.
"Uhm, would it be a possible case of appendicitis?" You spoke, something nervous, but your words were almost like a question rather than an affirmation.
"Wrong,"
His voice again, almost as if he were glad of your mistake.
"Are you answering or are you asking me, Y/N?" Ratio spoke, almost with a despicable tone.
You just looked down.
It was almost always the same, for him, all your answers are wrong, he always had to find something wrong with what you said.
"If you're going to answer again as your classmate, refrain from talking and just say you didn't study anything." Ratio said, for all your classmates in the room.
"Honestly, I don't even know why I still continue teaching some of you."
Oh, and you knew perfectly well that he was referring to you.
He says, almost as if your existence were a total nonsense for him.
"All of you are dumb, you all have the same level of intelligence as an Earthworm, maybe a little less than one even." His words come out almost sharp again.
"How can it be possible you can't even answer the simplest question?" Ratio spoke out, almost frustrated by the lack of intelligence on most of his students.
Your cheeks became red, the way Ratio spoke was always so harsh, so harsh and direct, and even more so if it was you who answered a question, he never missed an opportunity to show that you were wrong in front of everyone else.
"Now, that's enough chit-chat, back to the topic." He looked at the board, his expression was somewhat serious, his arms behind his back, as he stood in the middle of the classroom.
"The appendix is a small, worm-like structure that branches off the back of the colon. It's located in the lower right lobe of the abdomen. The main problem with appendicitis is when it becomes infected and then blocks all waste product from leaving the colon." He spoke, standing at the front of the class.
"What does that mean?" he spoke again. This time with a much easier question than he asked you.
"Mhm, you," he pointed to a student.
"…That means all the waste from everything that comes through the digestive system doesn't have anywhere to go, and can back up into all of your abdominal cavity," She said, with some nerves, but keeping her words as firm as she could.
"Correct." He spoke, as he saw her answer, with a much calmer expression this time.
"The appendix becomes inflamed and very sensitive when an infection begins to form in it. You can experience fever chills that go down into your groin like cold water. The most common pain is in the abdomen, specifically in the lower right side. It can be mistaken for a stomach ache, or even menstrual cramps. But with further care, it can be determined as appendicitis." Ratio speaks again, almost a little happier.
"Anyone else?" He asked.
"If there is no intervention, it could explode," this time you dared to speak again, trying to sound firm.
"A precise answer, even from you, for a change," He spoke with a little more than a sarcastic tone, but as usual, he can't seem to say anything without adding an annoyed tone to everything he says.
"That's true. An appendix that is left untreated can burst, or perforate. But not always because of pain close to the appendix area will be necessary to remove or attempt an intervention." He says, as he returns to look at the board.
"If the appendix bursts, the pain might go away, but a much worse process, is going to start. The appendix will begin to break down, and the bacteria and pus from the organ can pass into the abdominal cavity, causing a widespread and severe infection. This is called peritonitis." Ratio spoke, his voice almost firm, and serious again.
You felt somewhat calmer, but still, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.
Was it necessary that I always talk to you like this?
Because after all, you were his partner.
Ratio kept his eyes on you for a few moments, as if analyzing your expression. He almost always knew when you had those thoughts.
As he finishes speaking, the class bell begins to ring, almost as a sign that the class just ended.
"You are all dismissed." Ratio said, putting his hands behind his back, his eyes looking at the students as they began to leave the room.
You focused on keeping your stuff, without a hurry, because you weren't very excited to eat in medical school. The food wasn't so good or appetizing there.
The room was getting emptier and emptier, except for just the two of you, since you were the last one to leave.
Ratio leaned against the front of the desk, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he had something in mind to discuss with you.
"Y/N." His voice came out quite firm, and almost demanding.
"Yes?" Your voice almost sounded like a whisper, a whisper of nervousness, still, you answered him.
You could already feel what kind of a talk he was going to have with you now
Ratio seemed quite serious, his eyes almost fixed on you, as if analyzing your every move.
He waited a few seconds before speaking. He still retained his serious expression.
"You're falling behind on a lot of the classes." He spoke, with an almost severe voice.
You just looked down.
He knew that you didn't always answer very intelligently, but it seemed like he just liked using every single opportunity he got to be harsh on you.
His arms were still crossed in front of his chest, keeping his position in front of the desk.
"I know…" your voice came out a little smaller this time.
Ratio sighed, he didn't change his position or expression, on the other hand, yours became somewhat more tense, you already knew that he was far from finished.
"Not only that," he continued to speak, his voice now more demanding.
"You don't usually answer my questions as intelligently as you should. You answer in ways that are almost as unintelligent as the others." he spoke again, his voice slightly higher than before.
"You know you should study more."
Again, a tone that seemed somewhat irritated.
"I am,"
"You're not." Ratio continued, his voice suddenly became very firm.
You can't help but feel even more self-conscious, more tensed than before.
He was right, even if he was, he didn't always have to say it that way.
"I don't even know why you're still in this class, if you've answered right a small percentage of times."
"But i'm trying, Ratio," You spoke, this time directing yourself towards him as your equal, as you did in private.
"Trying," He repeated. "You are just not trying hard enough."
Ratio's hands now moved from his chest, to his sides, still leaning against the table.
That didn't seem to change his expression at all, the same seriousness.
"You need to study more, you need to stop falling behind so much, to be more firm, and at least,"
He stopped, for a few seconds, as if thinking of his next words.
"To answer my questions correctly more times than you already do, stop with this mediocrity."
His tone became almost more severe.
"Honestly, I don't know why you don't take your time to pay more attention." He continued, with that severe, demanding tone.
"You're not in your old secondary education anymore, these are more complex medical concepts to treat complex diseases."
He said again, still keeping his tone and position.
"I'm going to try harder," you said.
"You better."
Ratio's answer was short, but the seriousness with which it was given almost made you even more tensed.
Again, a few seconds of silence, Ratio seemed to be thinking of his next words.
"I'm going to start being more demanding with you…" he spoke, leaning a little more against the desk, his eyes still fixed on you.
"I won't let you pass with the bare minimum in my classes" The feeling you have after you hear those words is the most nervous of all.
Ratio always got that demanding, and hard tone when talking to you about studies.
You know perfectly how serious he was when he said that.
"I won't go easy on you anymore," he says, in a much firmer tone.
"From now on if you don't answer correctly more times than you do now, you won't pass my classes."
Ratio was very strict with his classes, and even more so when it came to you.
"No more mediocre answers, I want you to start actually using that brain that you have." His tone now very demanding.
"You are going to start giving more intelligent answers, and not stupid ones that any other student could give."
Tumblr media
A few days have passed since that talk between you and Ratio.
He has become much more demanding, and much stricter with his classes.
His questions were much harder to answer, and he always waited for intelligent answers from you.
He had put you in the spotlight every time you were in class, he had increased the number of questions he asked you, and every time you answered, he seemed to be analyzing your every word.
But of course, you noticed, in your nervousness after saying 'medium-great' answers, how your classmates didn't answers difficult questions like you. Not to mention that there were always two or one student whom he always congratulated for her efforts.
Ratio continued with the same demanding attitude, continuing to set high standards for you.
He kept asking you difficult questions, and even if you answered one correctly, he would go on to another, more complex one.
He didn't miss a single opportunity to point out your failures, and you could always see the satisfaction on his face, whenever you got the answer wrong.
Even now, you can feel his gaze on you, as if he's waiting for you to say something wrong, to see him frown.
The way he seemed to be always focused on you in the class, no matter how hard you answered the questions.
Everyone could tell that even though you were his partner, he didn't spare you from his demands for answers.
You had to constantly use that huge book, and study more and more every day. It was becoming tiresome because you barely had time for anything else, and on the other hand, your classmates seemed to be studying less than you.
The bell for the end of class had just been rung, the majority of the class was already picking their stuff to leave.
But you knew very well that Ratio was still there waiting for you to approach.
And yes, you were going to do that.
With calm steps and somewhat anxious, you approached the large desk near the board.
"Uhm, Veritas?" You said, carefully.
"Can we eat together?" You asked, knowing that after this class he would no longer dictate another one in the day, and you too, had no other class for today.
Ratio was sorting through some papers, putting them in various folders on his desk, with that same serious expression he had the rest of the time.
When he heard your voice, he stopped sorting papers, and looked at you.
His eyes seemed sharper every time you looked into them.
Without taking his eyes off you, he placed the last folder in place, and rested his hands on the table.
He didn't answer immediately, as if he was thinking about your request.
"Is there a reason?"
Ratio's tone was somewhat firm, his eyes still fixed on you, as if questioning why you, out of nowhere, suddenly wanted to eat with him.
"No,"
You didn't really know why, either.
Maybe it was because you didn't want to be left alone. Or maybe because you needed a break, your brain had been filled with so much knowledge, so much information that you felt it was going to explode.
"I just want to be with you," Your voice coming out a little more nervous this time.
Ratio was still looking at you, his eyes, very much analyzing you, as if he was searching for a real reason.
It was always like this with him, he never answered anything immediately.
Still, he didn't take his eyes off you, as if he was analyzing your thoughts, your request, and your every action.
Finally, after a few seconds, he spoke.
"Did you study?" He spoke, with that demanding but firm tone. His gaze was still fixed on you.
Your body slightly tensed up. You knew that if you hadn't, he probably wouldn't eat with you.
Even if he was your boyfriend, he was always like this.
"I did," Your voice came out with a small firmness, you actually spent the night studying.
Ratio kept looking at you carefully, his expression didn't change, he seemed to still be analyzing you, as if searching for lies in your eyes.
"How many hours?" His tone was still demanding, but he always made sure to correct you, to be even firmer with his words.
On the other hand, you were getting nervous. It was true that you spent all night studying, you didn't even have time to sleep, but if you said that, he would probably make you feel guilty for it.
So to not prolong the question, you gave a firm answer.
"Six hours, I swear."
Your voice was still firm, but nervousness was clearly expressed in it.
Ratio didn't change his expression, his eyes were still fixed on you, as if he could tell if you were lying or not.
He kept looking at you, in those few seconds he didn't say anything. Still looking at you, until he broke the silence.
"You haven't slept any?" His tone was much more demanding this time, his brows slightly furrowed, as if telling you that it was a mistake.
You knew perfectly well that it was a mistake, you already regretted it the moment you said it.
A small feeling of guilt took hold of your body, knowing that you were about to be scowled for that.
"No…"
You said, trying to keep your voice somewhat firm, but nervousness was present in it.
Ratio crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes became more severe, almost with annoyance at your answer.
You knew perfectly well that that would happen.
"How are you going to study properly if you don't even sleep?" He questioned, in a demanding tone, as usual.
If you didn't sleep, he would scold you and if you slept, he would scold you too.
At the endings, it happened, as always, you even shed a few tears.
And it seems that that gave him remorse and he ended up agreeing to eat with you.
Your eyes were somewhat swollen, not much, but they were.
He made sure to hold your hand while eating quietly in a cafe near medical school.
You could notice how he was looking at your eyes almost every second, as if seeing the tiredness in them.
He almost looked like he felt guilty for making you cry, but he would deny it.
Ratio knew how demanding he could be, and how it could affect you.
But of course, he didn't apologize, because that would imply admitting that he was wrong.
You could see how he squeezed your hand, carefully while eating, as if making sure that your hand wouldn't slip from his.
It was quite obvious that he felt regret for making you cry. No matter how hard he denied it, his actions and his grip on your hand would always give it away.
The rest of the lunch was a little quiet, both of you only spoke a few words from time to time, not a lot.
He still continued to eat in silence, watching you from time to time.
His grip was firm on your hand, a little tight, but it didn't bother you, it was rather calming for you.
When he finished eating, he got up, and pulled you to get up from your chair.
He still had a firm grip on your hand.
"Let's go." Was the only thing he said, as he started to walk out of the cafeteria with you, your hand still attached to his.
Ratio started walking, with you following behind with your hand in his.
He wasn't walking too fast, or very slow, he was walking at a reasonable pace, but he made sure that you kept up.
He pulled you to stick to his side, and he made sure to look at you every few seconds.
You were walking in almost total silence, no one dared to say anything, and this was a little strange. Normally he was the first to say something.
His tight grip on your hand, his way of looking at you from time to time, made you feel a little nervous, but at the same time calm.
He didn't say anything as he walked, but you dared to say something.
"Where are we going?" You asked quietly, looking up slightly at him as you walked.
He looked at you, and his grip squeezed yours a little. Ratio spoke again.
"To my apartment." He replied, in the same firm tone.
"To your apartment?" You were a bit startled by that answer, because there was no way he was taking you to his apartment.
"Don't be tense." Ratio said, his tone was somewhat firm, but softer than before.
Before you could say anything else, he continued to speak, his words were firm and demanding, almost leaving no room for questioning.
"We're going to there, you're going to take a shower, and then you're going to take a long nap.
"I don't-"
Before you could reply, Ratio quickly cut you off. "I don't care what you're about to say, you need to rest."
He spoke with that firm but authoritative tone.
"You're going to take a damn shower, and you're going to take a damn nap for as long as it takes to get you back in shape."
In a way, that made you smile.
His actions showed you that he still cared about you.
Tumblr media
The last few days that had passed, were… very different. You spent them at Ratio's apartment.
Each day ended with him scolding you for studying so much, and falling asleep on his couch on several occasions.
You loved those moments with him, in spite of everything, you were really in love with him.
However, as quickly as those butterflies arrived in your stomach, they disappeared faster than they appeared.
"Incorrect again, Y/N,"
He said, holding his hand to the bridge of his nose.
"U-uh…" you said, feeling watched and judged by all your classmates at that moment.
You were currently in practical classes, you no longer just theorize.
"Less than a minute for the patient to bleed," he commented again, ratio, with total disapproval in his speech.
You stayed there, thinking about what to do, your mind running in circles to decide what to do.
And, without further ado, the girl that Ratio always congratulated, took her tweezers from your hands, starting to suture the patient.
You felt so stupid in that instant, the classmate that Ratio always complimented, always approved of her, even congratulated her, had just taken your tweezers from your hands.
You felt the gaze of your classmates on you. You could see that they were either feeling sorry for you, or judging you.
Ratio was silent, he looked irritated, but he wasn't scolding you.
The classmate who took the tweezers from her hands, finished suturing the patient completely, in what seemed to be a couple of seconds.
Talent always wins the effort.
"You've failed another suture." Ratio spoke, almost annoyed by your failure.
As always, whenever you made a mistake, he was always making sure to point it out, making sure to shame you in front of the rest of the class.
His disappointment was evident on his face, in his tone, his gestures.
"It's ridiculous, you can't even put a few damn stitches on a fake wound. How are you going to be a real doctor if you're always messing up everything?" His words were harsh, very much. His expression and his eyes, sharp, as always.
"You're not taking this seriously, you're making the same mistakes again and again." He continued, in the same irritated tone.
How could someone who studied so much, who spent many hours studying, fail so much? How could you fail so much, even though you spent so much time with the person who always seemed dissatisfied with you?
Your classmates' gaze, Ratio's gaze, your own self-judgment, and your frustration for being a complete failure, was too much. You felt your eyes begin to tear up, you could feel your hands shaking. You felt more and more nervous with every word coming out of his mouth. It wasn't just from the pressure, it was also from the frustration.
How was it possible, that he had so much patience, and complimented your classmate, even celebrated that she could suturate a patient, when you couldn't do the same?
His words, his looks of disappointment, they were starting to take their toll on you.
"You're right, doctor," you said, accepting his words, so that he would at least stop scolding you publicly. Ratio kept looking at you, that annoyed look still on his face.
You looked really small in his eyes. Small and weak, a complete failure. That's how he saw you at that moment.
"At this rate, I'm tempted to say that you're never going to be a good doctor."
You just nodded, not knowing what to answer, or if you should respond to that in the first place. The medical career was not easy, there were always scolding for everyone, but not scolding all classes with him.
You heard him say, 'Well, let's continue…', as he moved on to another kind of exercise.
You let your other classmates get closer to the practice stretcher, staying at the end of the group.
All you just did was play with your fingers and bite your lip, so you didn't cry. Because you couldn't even get out of the practice chirophan, because you'd have low grade. Although well, what a lower grade could he put on you if you already pulled the first exercise.
You looked up in the direction of Ratio, who was correcting a couple of your classmates on something. He was always correcting something, especially you.
Your eyes were beginning to become slightly red.
You really hated the suturations practices, you were never good at putting in a few damn stitches.
You were always clumsy, and your hands always trembled when you took the tweezers, like they were shaking now.
Why weren't you as talented as them? Why couldn't you even do something as simple as suturing?
"You're shaking, are you alright?" A voice came from behind you, you recognized who it was immediately.
It was the classmate who always did sutures perfectly, the one Ratio always complimented. She had a worried expression in her eyes, but you couldn't help but feel complete rejection and repulsion towards her.
Her question made you feel more humiliated.
"I'm fine." You replied, trying to sound firm, when in reality, your voice was on the verge of cracking.
She looked at you, not seeming to buy the answer you gave her.
She could see your hands shaking and you were biting your lip, it didn't seem like you were fine.
"Are you sure? You don't look very-" she tried to speak once more, but you didn't want her to continue.
"I said I'm fine, alright. Stop asking me that." You said, a little harshly, hoping that would make her shut up. Her eyes widened slightly at your response, she was surprised by your response. But, instead of being angry, she continued to look sorry for you.
"I'm just trying to-" she was about to say something again, but you were already fed up with her.
You were fucking jealous of her.
"Well, I don't want you to! Stop acting like you care about me!" You snapped at her, your voice louder than you expected it to be.
The rest of the class had turned their heads at you, including Ratio.
Why the hell did you do that?
The whole room was silent, the only noise present was your agitated breathing.
Ratio walked up to you, his eyes firmly on yours. He looked irritated, no, he looked angry at your reaction.
"To the hallway, now." He said firmly, gesturing for you to walk towards the hall.
You felt the eyes of your classmates on you, as you slowly walked out of the class, with Ratio behind you.
Once you got into the hallway, he closed the door behind him, leaving both of you alone in the hallway.
He looked at you, you could see irritation in his eyes.
He was completely irritated with the attitude you just had.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He said, his voice almost sounded like a whisper, but still firm.
"Why the hell did you lash out at her like that?" He continued, he was waiting for an answer, an explanation for your behavior, and he wouldn't accept any bullshit excuse.
You stood there, not knowing what to say, and avoiding looking directly at him.
You didn't know how to explain your attitude, you yourself didn't even understand why you had done that.
Maybe it was because you were irritated, annoyed by her, or just because Ratio paid more attention to her or others than to you, no matter how much you studied.
And you couldn't understand why that girl was always so perfect either. The perfect student, the one who always did the exercises and sutures perfectly.
You were increasingly sure that talent far outperforms effort.
As you stood there, avoiding looking at him, Ratio was growing more and more impatient as the minutes passed. He expected some explanation, an answer to his question. But all he got was silence and you avoiding his gaze.
"Are you going to answer or just stay there, biting your lip?" He spoke again, this time with a firmer tone.
Again, you stayed there, still and saying nothing.
"Okay, then," he said, entering the practice chirophan and closing the door behind him.
You stood there, outside the practice chirophan, alone, on your own, with only your thoughts swirling around your head. You could still hear your classmates continuing practicing suturing in the chirophan, while you were left outside.
Your mind was a mess, going from one thought to another, from one feeling to another; anger, frustration, confusion, disappointment.
And jealousy. A lot of jealousy.
You could hear Ratio's voice, scolding other students. And again, you heard him compliment the girl who always does sutures perfectly.
She was talented, she was perfect, the best student in his eyes. He seemed to adore her, much more than he praised you.
It was not possible to know with that man, he was a mystery.
You walked over and sat down on one of the seats in the hallway, your body completely tired. Both physically and mentally.
Poor girl, you were jealous of her, when not even she did it on purpose to be better than you.
Tumblr media
The lesson was finally over.
You were sitting in the hallway, waiting for the whole class to leave, so you could enter and say something to Ratio.
But, to your annoyance, the girl who always did the perfect sutures, was one of the last to leave.
She was going to talk to Ratio, it was obvious.
So, you stayed in the hallway, watching as Ratio and that girl talked for a long time.
She looked happy, with a smile on her face. Ratio seemed in a good mood, he was listening to her speaking calmly. In fact, he was smiling, he was never usually that warm.
That image, that situation, it only irritated your mind more.
But you wouldn't do anything, because there was nothing to do.
Besides that in medical school, he was your teacher, not your boyfriend. So professionalism on his part was always ahead.
As the last student left, Ratio opened the practice chirophan and found you sitting on one of the seats in the hallway.
He looked at you, and for the first time, he had a slight hint of disappointment on his face.
He just looked at you for a few seconds, almost as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.
He just let out a slight, silent, almost inaudible sigh.
"Come here." He said, gesturing to you to walk towards him.
You stood up, from the seat. You were about to walk towards him but, you suddenly felt nervous, your heart beating a little faster.
What if he wants to discuss that you're always getting low notes on the practical work?
Or maybe he wants to tell you that your effort is useless, because you'll never be as good as the other students.
Or even, he wants to kick you out of class for your recent behavior.
However, his words surprised you.
"I'm going to help you study," he said.
You really expected another scolding from him, but his words were soft.
Perhaps the excellent work of the best student in your class had change his mood.
"But I don't-"
Before you could respond, he cut you off, almost knowing what you were going to answer.
"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you." He said firmly.
He wasn't leaving room for questioning, if he was going to help you study, there was no use in trying to decline his offer.
In spite of everything, you couldn't help but get excited.
The thought of having his attention, and having an extra private class with him. You were really going to like it, you wanted to be alone with him.
In a way, it was a great opportunity to show him what you were capable of doing, and that you too had potential.
He gave you a small smile, as he saw the reaction on your face. And then he added, "We're starting today."
…
You liked being next to him, you feel like at school, almost like a teenage romance.
You were writing carefully what he explained to you, while he had an arm on your shoulders.
It moved you and made you nervous, even though your relationship was almost two years now.
He explained, corrected and commented, as usual. You nodded, listened and wrote what he said.
Everything was going well, until he suddenly paused, and he let out a sigh.
"There's something important I need to tell you." He said, suddenly, in a serious tone.
Your hands suddenly froze halfway between the page and writing. His words, his tone, his gaze. It made you feel nervous, your heartbeat increasing.
"What is it?"
Your voice came out in a somewhat nervous tone.
For a few seconds, he was serious, he didn't say anything, he just looked at you.
His eyes looking into yours, in a somewhat serious and intimidating way, before his expression suddenly change to one of slight annoyance.
"What the hell was that, what you did the other day?"
Ratio asked, suddenly changing the subject of the conversation.
You tensed up a bit, and bit your lip.
You knew immediately that he was referring to the little tantrum you threw, that day.
"I was…" you were at a loss for words, you didn't know what to say.
"I was just frustrated." You finally managed to say, your voice a bit low.
"Frustrated, right."
Ratio responded, in a slightly mocking tone.
"So you were frustrated, and you decided to take it out on a classmate, in front of the entire class?" Ratio looked at you, with that same serious and slightly annoyed expression.
Your heart was beating fast, you felt slightly guilty, knowing you acted inappropriately.
"I know it wasn't the best way to react, but…" you tried to explain yourself.
"No buts." He cut you off. "You embarrassed yourself, and you embarrassed me with your poor and childish behavior. As your teacher, I shouldn't have to deal with your tantrums.
His words stung a little, you felt ashamed.
But there was something else, behind his words. The mention of 'As your teacher'.
"I know, I'm sorry." You mumbled, looking down to the floor.
"I expect you to act like an adult. So I hope you'll apologize to your classmate." He said.
"I will."
You said, still avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see his eyes, to see his expression.
That day wasn't the only one he helped you study on.
But as always, for him, everything was wrong in answers or in your diagnoses.
As you wrote down one of the last points of the list he had given you, he spoke up, looking at what you had written.
"That is incorrect," he said as he looked at one of the points.
You looked up at him, your eyes wide at his words. How could it have been wrong? The doubt began to consume your mind, and you felt frustrated that you weren't able to do everything perfectly.
Your frustration was beginning to grow, you had just spent hours studying and here he was telling you that you had all the things wrong.
You tried to protest, you tried to explain your answers, but he shut you down every time. His voice became sharper and firmer every time, he was losing patience with you and your constant mistakes.
Finally, he slammed the book on the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty room.
"That's it, enough. You're not getting anything right," he said, his voice stern.
You felt a pang in your chest from hearing his words. How was it possible that not a single thing you wrote was correct? Why couldn't you understand the concepts? Why were you always making mistakes?
Your hands began to tremble as you clutched the pen in your hand, your heart beating fast
You wanted to scream out in frustration and ask him why you weren't getting the answers right, but you knew he wouldn't be patient with you anymore.
"You should try harder, I'm going to do an exam on these topics for you all," he said.
And yes, you had to study alone, as you normally did.
But you didn't really understand why you didn't get any answers right.
Literally that's what books said, your answers were even the same.
So, what was happening to you?
That test was going to be in a week, and you were extremely stressed about it.
You had to prepare for the exam given by Ratio, but it wasn't easy. Despite reading the material multiple times, something wasn't clicking in your head.
The formulas, the methods, the diagnoses, nothing stayed in your head. And when you attempted to answer the questions, you found yourself making mistake after mistake.
After studying a few nights on your own, it was time to take the exam.
The day of the exam had arrived.
The atmosphere in the classroom was tense, everyone seemed nervous. You were shaking, your hands trembling as you clutched the pen. Everyone around you seemed to understand the material, but you were struggling.
Ratio started handing out the test sheets to each one of you, until he reached your desk.
He placed the paper in front of you, and your breathing hitched.
You dared to hold your gaze on his, for at least a while, looking for some security that he could give you.
But there was no security in his gaze.
He didn't give you any special look, no secret glance or anything that could make you feel more confident.
His expression seemed serious, almost like a challenge. It was clear that he expected nothing from you, to his eyes you weren't going to do the test well.
He knew it, and you knew it.
And as he finished handing them out, he spoke.
"You have an hour to finish. Start now." He announced, before going back to his desk.
You looked down at the questions, and your heart sank.
They were difficult, they were complex, and they were things you had never seen before.
You felt your hands begin to sweat, and your mind went blank. You tried to recall the information you had studied, but it was like trying to remember a forgotten dream.
The other students around you seemed to have no trouble with the test, they were already beginning to answer the questions.
But you, on the other hand, were stuck on the first question. The words and numbers on the page became a blur, your mind in complete mess.
As minutes passed, you found yourself still struggling with the first question. Meanwhile, other classmates were already on the second or third.
The pressure was immense. You tried to focus, you tried to concentrate. But your mind was racing, your heart was pounding in your chest.
You could hear the sound of the other students' pens on the papers, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the silence of the classroom.
Every sound seemed to echo in your head and only added to your anxiety.
Time was ticking by quickly, and you could feel your anxiety growing with each passing minute.
You had already spent 45 minutes on one question, and you hadn't even reached the halfway point.
Until you saw some of your classmates raise their hand so that Ratio could approach them and answer their doubts about some questions.
They were getting help, while you just sat there, panicking.
You wanted to raise your hand, to ask for help, just like the other students.
But you didn't do it, you didn't dare to. You felt too ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you were having so much trouble with the test.
You just continued staring at the exam, trying to decipher the questions.
And, with only 4 questions out of 20, you dared to raise your hand as well, so that he can get closer as well.
You looked up a little bit on your exam, watching it approach students back and forth.
Your still hand raised, you even moved it a little bit, to see it.
And so he did, he saw you for a few seconds, before approaching another of your classmates.
Your heart sank again.
You couldn't believe what had just happened.
He knew you were struggling, he saw you with your hand raised. But despite that he avoided you and went to answer someone else's doubts.
You felt a pang of pain in your chest, like a stinging realization.
Ratio didn't want to help you, he was ignoring you.
You weren't like the good students, the ones he always said were talented. You were just the one who couldn't understand anything, no matter how hard you tried.
You lowered your hand again, feeling humiliated.
With your cheeks somewhat red from shame, you lowered your gaze towards your exam, almost empty.
You tried to do it, you really tried.
Without realizing it, your eyesight was blurred, as you continued to try to write down what you found most coherent.
You were crying in the middle of the exam. But what a shame.
Well, at least you didn't sob, you just let the tears slip out of your eyes, because because your head was somewhat tilted down, it was more accessible for the tears to come out.
The time passed, and the other students handed in the exam sheets, one by one. And you were still on your seat, trying to come up with at least a minimum of sense.
The tension in the room grew with each passing minute.
You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze, even if no one was looking at you directly. It was like everyone was silently waiting for you to finish, to see if you could do it or not.
But the answer to that was becoming more and more evident with every passing minute.
And yet, you still tried, you tried so hard to write something.
You felt a knot forming in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears, but it was difficult.
Ratio's words echoed in your head again, "You should try a little harder."
How much harder did he wanted you to try? You were already struggling to keep up, and now you were literally crying.
With all your effort, you managed to answer some more questions. But still, the test paper looked almost blank.
Many of your answers were incorrect, even if you had tried your best.
When the time finally ran out, Ratio spoke up.
"Time's up," he said in his usual strict tone, standing up from his desk. "Those of you who haven't handed in your sheets, do so now."
You felt a wave of dread wash over you. You were one of the few who still had the papers on their desk.
Slowly, you raised your head to see that almost everyone else had already handed their papers to him.
With shaking hands, you gathered the papers on your desk and got up.
Your legs felt weak, but you somehow managed to make your way to the desk.
Ratio was there, waiting for your paper. He looked slightly indifferent, as if he was expecting this outcome.
You handed him the sheets with trembling hands, feeling a sense of shame and embarrassment. The weight of your poor performance was heavy on you, and you avoided meeting his gaze.
He took the papers without a word, and as he did, your eyes darted down to the answers on the paper.
You could see his expression of disappointment.
…
And it was worse than what you imagined.
Red marks and crosses were all over the page, almost each answer was incorrect.
After a week, he returned the exams to everyone in the classroom.
You didn't know how to hide your grade from the students sitting near you.
There was a big 0 on the exam cover.
A 0, no points at all. You had failed the test completely, and the evidence was there, for everyone to see.
The shame and humiliation hit you like a wave. Everyone was looking at their grades, comparing them and discussing among themselves. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.
Ratio spoke up again, drawing everyone's attention. "As you can see, the results of the exam were… Disappointing."
He said, his eyes skimming over the class.
His eyes landed on some students, commenting on their good grades.
"But, there were some good grades. Congratulations to those who did well." He spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone.
You knew you'd never be like them.
When he finished the class, it was relatively short, as most of the time it was used to solve the exam together.
You rushed to grab your stuff by keeping your exam in your bag, before you left the big classroom, feeling nauseous.
The rest of the day passed by, but the shame and humiliation from the exam still lingered. You couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment, and the thought that you were the worst in the class.
You tried to avoid your classmates' gazes, fearing they would whisper or make fun of you.
The hours went by slowly, until the day had ended. You found yourself walking back home, feeling down, with your head hung low.
And then, you suddenly heard a voice calling out to you. "Y/N," the familiar voice said, and you froze.
You knew who it was.
Slowly, you turned around to see Ratio standing there, a few metres away from you. His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you. Your heart started racing again, and you nervously clutched your bag strap tighter. What did he want?
He walked closer to you, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
He stopped a few steps away from you, looking down at you.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, his voice firm. You swallowed hard, nodding silently.
You were too afraid to speak, your throat was dry, as if you had never swallowed saliva again.
He motioned for you to follow him, as he walked towards a quieter part of the hallway, where there were less classroms.
Finally, he stopped in a quieter spot, turning to look at you.
He looked directly into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his voice softer than usual.
"I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you," he began, tilting his head slightly.
You nodded again, knowing what he wanted to talk about. The failed exam.
"Yes…" you whispered, your voice barely heard.
He let out a small sigh.
"Your performance on the exam… It was quite unsatisfactory."
His words were straightforward, he didn't hide his disappointment.
Your heart sank even further.
He was saying what you already knew, what he already wrote on the paper of red marks and crosses.
"I didn't expect much, to be completely honest. But I didn't expect such…bad results." He added, raising an eyebrow.
His words hurt, but you didn't say anything, you just stood there, looking down.
"I just don't understand," he continued, "I made sure to explain the concepts thoroughly. Why did you fail so badly?"
His tone was serious, he really wanted an answer from you.
"I really don't know," you mumble. Ratio let out a small huff, clearly not satisfied with your answer.
He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying you.
"You know, I've been teaching for years. I've seen many students who struggle, but not to this extent. You weren't able to answer any question correctly."
"I wanted help, Ratio," you said, again, muttering.
And yes, you tried to raise your hand so that he could also approach you that time, but he just looked at you and didn't come close.
You looked up weakly toward his eyes, holding his gaze a few seconds.
"I tried to ask for help from you, I raised my hand, but you ignored me," you confessed, your voice almost breaking.
He was silent for a moment, his expression slightly changing.
He seemed a little surprised that you had mentioned that.
He was about to open his mouth to speak, but then your voice spoke up again.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" You said, with a hurt voice, and your eyes started to feel moist.
His expression softened slightly. He wasn't expecting that question.
He saw the tears forming in your eyes, and his stern expression wavered for a second.
"No, I don't think you're stupid." He finally said, his voice slightly lower.
He paused for a moment before speaking again.
"But I can't deny that I'm...disappointed. I had hoped for more progress."
Your lower lip trembled slightly as you heard his words.
Disappointed. Of course, he was. Because you were the worst in the class, the one who couldn't understand anything no matter how hard you tried.
The one who would never be able to answer a question correctly.
"…I know…" you whispered.
You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they started rolling down your cheeks.
"But i'm trying my best. I swear I am," you said, your voice shaking.
Ratio didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at you, almost as if he was contemplating your words, your expression and your tears.
He watched as you cried softly, the tears running silently down your face.
He seemed to think for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice softer than before.
"I know you're trying," he admitted, and his tone wasn't as harsh as usual.
He let out a small sigh.
"But 'trying' isn't enough. You're always lagging behind. You never catch up. You need to do something different."
Your heart felt heavy, and your shoulders slumped slightly.
He was right, your 'trying' wasn't enough. It never was.
You heard him sigh, before you didn't realize it, his hands were on your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs on these to clean the tears.
"I want you to succeed,"
His touch was gentle, his thumb wiping away your tears softly.
You looked up at him, his expression was serious but not cold as usual.
"But you have to work harder for that." He spoke, his hands still on your wet cheeks. "You're smart, but clearly something is missing."
As his hands continued on your cheeks, you froze, feeling the unexpected touch.
He was wiping your tears, a gesture of… comfort?
Tumblr media
At this point, you already believed his words.
'You're not giving everything about yourself'
'Study more'
'Try harder'
Everything that came out of your mind and mouth was wrong for him.
You sat on the small bench on the rooftop of medical school. That place had been your peacetime.
You found yourself again, frustrated, as you had the book open on your lap, with tears about to escape your eyelids.
That until someone else's footsteps resounded on the ground.
Which made you immediately turn your head.
"I knew I'd find you here," the familiar voice said. You turned to see Ratio, walking over to the bench and sitting next to you.
"The same place, for the third time this week," he added, his expression a mixture of concern and something else.
You wiped the tears from your eyes quickly, not wanting him to see you like this. But it was too late, he had already noticed.
He glanced at the open book on your lap, a small frown on his face.
"Still struggling?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.
You just nodded.
You saw him sigh, before he took out a kind of sweet bread packaged.
"Here, eat this," he said, as he gave you what he had in his hand.
He knew you liked those sweet breads.
With resignation, you took the bread, and you took off the wrapper, starting to eat it, while you felt like you were going to cry again.
Ratio watched you eat silently, his eyes fixed on you.
He saw the tears still gleaming in your eyes, but you were trying to hold them back.
He let out a sigh, his expression seemed to be contemplating something.
Without saying anything, he moved closer to you, getting nearer.
He was so close, you could count the number of eyelashes he had.
He leaned towards you, and his hand raised to touch your cheek and so he did, stroking your face for a moment, before he laid a kiss on your temple.
The unexpected kiss on your forehead made your body tense up for a moment, surprise filling you.
The action was uncharacteristic as he was acting in a way he never did in the past.
You slowly turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression held a hint of affection.
He was still so close to you. So close that he could easily touch you again.
The simple contact of his, made the accumulated tears of before, fall down your cheeks.
You stuck your body to him, even chewing sweet bread. You had a frown, like you used to have now.
As you put your phone next to you, after dialing your boyfriend's number.
You keep looking at the practice sheet, gently banging the pen against the table.
It took him a few seconds for him to answer your call.
"What's wrong?" Ratio asked once he answered the phone.
You took a deep breath before speaking, trying to sound a little calm, but failing miserably.
"I'm stuck again," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.
"You'll need to do this by yourself, this time." He said, and his voice was firm.
You felt another stab in the chest.
"But I-"
"No buts. You need to learn how to figure things out on your own. You can't always depend on me."
Another stab. Like a dagger.
Yes, the same thing happened again.
You were somewhat desperate, as your last exams went wrong and you only approved a few with the minimum note. And basically you needed 140 percent of 100 percent to pass.
The only thing that could save you would be the practical part, but you didn't even manage to master that.
You knew he was right, but that didn't make you feel any better.
You looked up at him with a sad expression, but all he did was look at you with his usual frown.
"You're not a kid anymore. You need to start taking responsibility for your own learning," he said.
You knew he was right, you knew you couldn't always rely on him. But it was hard to accept.
Especially when he was always so dedicated and patient with others.
"Being your boyfriend doesn't mean you have more priority or advantages,"
You felt your throat tighten, you had a lump in your throat.
But he continued speaking.
"I'm your teacher, first of all. And I should be as impartial as possible."
You knew that, you truly knew that.
How you wished that he would treat you differently from others just because, you didn't want any privileges, or anything like that.
You just wanted his attention, his help, his care. But all you got were cold remarks, like a teacher talking to a stupid student.
Oh, but you would remember her words whenever you were tempted to ask her for help.
And again, you believed his words.
He was right, it wouldn't be fair for others to teach you the most.
So, you had to put everything in about yourself, no, more than you could give, so you could study for your exams.
Especially because they weren't just any exam, they were almost a preview of the endings, and if you didn't pass all of them, you wouldn't have any hope of being able to pass the courses.
Because you need more note than you can normally get, that is, something impossible.
In total there were 6 courses, that of Ratio and that of other teachers. That in their classes you didn't do so badly, but you weren't the best either. you approved with scores between minimums to media.
You looked down, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.
"I know," you mumbled, feeling a lump in your throat.
He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice a little softer this time.
"I'm tough on you because I know you can do it," he said.
Your eyesight focused on the chemistry test, it was the first exam of the week, so you were, or at least you felt, that you were ready.
When you left the exam, begging you to do well, you had to eat a granola bar, while you were walking down the hallways, looking for your other classroom.
You couldn't see Ratio before you took the first exam, because you were going to be a little late.
Once you sat at the desk, with the pharmacology test in your hands, you started putting on paper the things you remembered, so you didn't forget.
It was two long hours, which you managed to finish and leave the classroom, completely tired.
But when you get home, you couldn't sleep, because you had to prepare for your other exams.
As you sat in front of your desk, it was already almost 10 pm.
And you were still studying.
Your eyes tired because of the many books you had looked through, and your arms aching slightly because of writing so much.
You were tired, but you couldn't afford to take a rest. You had to study for the other exams. You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes.
How long had you been studying now? An hour or two? You weren't even sure.
In the last few hours, you were studying for your other exams, including Public Health, Medicine 3, Clinical psychiatry, Laboratory diagnosis and the course in which Ratio will be present, Surgery 1.
Of some of those exams, most of them were written, the two of practice would be the same day.
You didn't dare send a single message to Ratio.
Or well, it's not that you didn't want to, you were too tired at this point.
You barely got out of the exam where you had to be in the lab, your eyelids every time threatened to close.
Now you had the exam.
You were scared, you even sweated from your nerves.
When you arrived at the respective practice chirophan, where all your colleagues would be taking the exam, your eyesight discouraged you.
They all looked somewhat tense, as they walked back and forth, muttering to themselves, what you assumed was what they learned in class.
You waited outside, along with them, before Ratio made them pass them all, to start the exam.
This consisted even the right only disinfected was also qualified, which made you tense. Although the cold water when washing your hands and arms helped you wake up a little.
Your breathing intensified.
Ratio stood in the middle of the room, and you tried to focus your vision properly.
He looked in your direction, for a second, his eyes on you.
Maybe he'd noticed how tired you were, but he remained silent. He just looked at you for a second, before looking back at everyone else.
And he began to speak.
"You all know how this works," he began, his voice firm and authoritative. "Each of you will take turns performing on a dummy patient."
You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to calm your nerves.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, as you watched your classmates take turns performing the practical exams.
Every time someone finished, Ratio inspected their work and gave them feedback.
You could see the serious expression on his face, his eyes never leaving the students as they performed.
Finally, it was your turn. You approached the dummy patient, your hands slightly trembling.
Ratio stood a few feet away, watching you.
When you started the exam, you tried to be as perfect as possible.
You tried to calm down, which was a bit difficult. Your hands was shaking.
'Try to breathe slowly, it will help you.'
That was what Ratio told you, and he was always right.
You tried to repeat in your head the steps you had to take to complete the exam.
You took a few deep breaths, in and out.
And finally, you began.
You feel much more pressure when you felt your classmates behind, that you were taking turns with when you performed a simple little surgery.
You started with shaky hands, to make cuts in the internal tissues of the skin, little by little. Being totally attentive to the sound of the cardiac monitor, listening to the pulsations and occasionally seeing the pressure level in the 'patient'.
You could even feel the sweat on the palms of your hands inside the latex gloves. It's good that you always had to put on 2 or 3 for these practices, because otherwise, you would have contaminated everything with your sweat.
You continued the process, trying to block out the thoughts that were flying through your mind.
'You need a good score.'
'You can't fail.'
'This is your last exam.'
'If you do this well, you can finally talk to him without worrying.'
Trying to ignore the pressure, you continued to take each step carefully.
The instructions for your colleagues you should take turns with were clear, anyone who distracts or talks to the person who is performing the practice with the 'patient' will immediately cancel the exam.
And that's why, because of the more impotence or frustration of your peers when they see your patient's heart level when they enter a state of shock because they had touched a vital organ, it was something that went unnoticed by you. Because you had fallen asleep.
What suddenly woke you up was the same alert from the monitors, who let out a loud noise.
Shit.
By the time you saw the monitor, the pressure was in the skies, not to mention that now the pulsations were going down drastically.
Without realizing it, as you had been sleeping in your place, you pricked the 'patient' stomach with the scalpel.
Fuck.
Your eyes widened in shock.
You were still a bit dizzy from sleep, and your reflexes were very slow.
And from behind, you could hear more murmurs, some of your classmates, while others let out a hiss or a swear word. And you could feel the pressure in your chest at what had just happened.
You tried to make a suture, but by that time it was too late.
You had damaged a vital organ, which you shouldn't even do.
In fear, you turned to the monitor, that now the rhythm was a single beep, indicating that the 'patient' had died.
You stayed there, feeling pressured by the looks of your classmates behind you, now they had not been able to take their exam.
And the gaze of Ratio, who was standing in front of you, which only made things worse.
He stood in the same position, his eyes staring at you. And you could only think of what he must have been thinking at that moment.
You tried to remain calm, but you knew that was impossible, your breathing was shaky, and you even felt your legs trembling.
You couldn't stand the stares, you could feel the gazes of your colleagues on your back. Judging and analyzing everything you had done.
"You failed this exam roundly." was the only thing he said, before guiding your peers to another side in the chirophan so they can take their exam, with a heart rate 'patient'.
You felt a pang of panic, your hands still trembling from the previous episode.
'You failed this exam roundly.' those words still echoed in your mind.
You knew it was the truth, there was no way you could deny it. You messed up big time.
'Everyone is going to hate me now. They're all going to think I'm stupid. I'm not fit to be a doctor. I'm not fit to be anything.'
These were the thoughts that raced through your mind.
You had been unveiling yourself so that you could study well for your other exams, that this was the only thing you didn't have in mind that could happen.
Your eyes looked to the floor, you were ashamed, you were embarrassed by your own performance. You had failed at something so simple.
Something you'd studied for hours. You even feel somewhat prepared to be able to do it.
Ratio stayed where he was, watching as your classmates took their turn with 'the patient'.
But he couldn't quite take his eyes off you, he could see you were shaking, and he was sure you would start crying at any moment. But you wouldn't do that in this place, not with the presence of everyone else.
He was heading for a moment where you were.
Without paying much attention to the others, he approached you, his footsteps almost silent, and stopped right in front of you.
He looked down at you, his gaze serious.
He knew exactly what your thoughts were at the moment, he knew that all the blame you would assume would be on yourself.
After all, it was all due to your negligence, you had fallen asleep, and that had been the reason why your practice turned out to be, to say the least, a disaster.
'You tried'
'You can do better another time'
'Don't worry'
You expected that, you really expected it.
"You need to retire from the chirophan, you've finished your exam." That's what you heard from him.
Your heart squeezed.
You really thought he was going to at least say a few words of encouragement, not just that.
And the tone in which he said it just made it worse. It was clear that he was disappointed.
You could feel the lump in your throat growing, you felt that you were going to burst into tears at any moment.
Ratio was about to speak, but instead, he held his tongue.
He knew the effect his words had had on you. He knew you weren't well. But he didn't say anything, he just stood there, seeing you.
His gaze was on you, you could feel that he was analyzing you, from your eyes to your hands.
You looked like a kicked puppy.
Your shoulders were hunched, your head was down, and your hands were shaking at your sides.
With what little dignity you had left, you looked up at Ratio.
Your heart was beating so hard you thought it would burst out of your chest.
Your eyes were glassy, your eyelashes wet with tears.
You moved from your place, going to the disinfection area, while you were removing your gloves, mask and other protection stuff.
Your hands never stopped shaking while you did that.
You came out of the chirophan of practices, with fear running through your body.
Your hands on your face as you tried to hide the fact that you were about to start crying.
You were walking so fast that you bumped into a few people, some who told you to slow down, but you ignored them.
Finally, you reached the bathroom, where you locked yourself in one of the cubicles, and let the tears fall down your face.
You felt pathetic. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could do it, and even more so, for falling asleep.
How could you possibly have screwed up so big? You had studied for hours, for days, for weeks.
You worked as hard as you could to try to get a passing grade.
You had given your all, only for it to end in a complete failure.
"You're not good for this." you told yourself, your voice choked with tears.
…
You waited for your boyfriend to leave his office, grabbing the strip of your bag with both your hands.
Your gaze was on the floor, seeing your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Your red eyes, you didn't want people to see much.
The students walked around you, chatting and laughing, unaware of the turmoil you were going through. You just wanted to go back to your apartment and cry in peace.
But at least you wanted some comfort on Ratio's side, even though you knew you didn't deserve it.
You heard the sound of a door behind you opening, and you glanced up to see Ratio walking out of his office.
He didn't notice you at first, but then he turned and his gaze fell on you.
You heard him sigh heavily, before he spoke "Let's go." It wasn't a question, it was a direct order.
You didn't dare say anything, just nodded silently and walked with him.
The whole way to the exit was silent, you walked behind him, seeing his back.
The silence was heavy, you didn't dare to say anything, and he didn't say anything either.
When you arrived at his apartment he let you pass first.
As you saw him leave his things in place and turn on some lights, your mind was distracted.
Until as he started heating water in the boiler, he spoke.
"It was the worst exam I could see in my life," his voice was full of disappointment.
Your heart pounded in your chest, those words only made you feel worse.
You wanted to say something, some kind of excuse, some reason to justify what you had done.
But all that came out of your mouth was a half-broken murmur "I'm sorry"
Ratio stared at you for a moment, his gaze was cold, you felt like crying again.
"You're sorry?" He asked, almost bitterly.
"You'll tell that to your patients' relatives when you kill them by mistake?"
Your eyes widened, and you could feel your lip starting to tremble.
That was a low blow.
"I-" you tried to speak, but your voice was so shaky and broken that you could barely form words.
But he interrupted you.
"You weren't focused. You were not prepared. You were sloppy and careless" He said, without even looking at you.
His words were like a stab in the heart.
And he wasn't done yet.
"You didn't put any effort into it,"
"Yes I did," you muttered, grabbing your fingers, anxiously in your body.
Ratio turned to you, his gaze was stern and almost irritated. He had never looked at you like that before.
"You fell asleep in the middle of the practice," he said, and the disappointment in his voice was palpable.
"How the hell would you call that putting in effort?"
Your mind was racing, trying to find an answer, something to say. But the words didn't come out, the lump in your throat was too big.
"I did" you tried to say again, weakly.
"No, you didn't" he said bluntly.
"If you had, you wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake"
You couldn't help it again, the salty tears wet your cheeks.
"Yes I did, Veritas," you said, raising your voice a little while you were looking at him.
"You didn't make the slightest effort in that practice, otherwise, you wouldn't have failed so miserably"
Those words stung again, you felt that he was attacking you.
"Yes I did!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face.
"I worked my ass out for that exam. I didn't take anything for granted! I really wanted to pass!"
"I want your comfort," you sobbed.
You wanted him to tell you that you had tried, that you did put everything out of you, that it was just unfortunate situations, that you could try again later.
You wanted that, not this.
Ratio's expression softened a little at your words, and for a moment he almost looked guilty.
He was quiet a few seconds, looking at your tear-soaked face.
"Do you think hard work is enough?" He asked. "Do you think that by just studying you will pass everything?"
"That if you want something, you'll get it just by wanting it?"
You just looked at him.
"That's not how it works," he said firmly.
"You have to be more than that".
You wanted his comfort, you longed for it a lot at times like this, not to be ranted out at how bad you did it.
"You don't deserve to be consoled if you did something out of pure negligence,"
Your heart sank at his words, like he was speaking to a child.
You felt like a scolded dog.
More tears fell on your face.
"I didn't mean to make that mistake," you said, wiping your face with your sleeve. "I really tried"
Ratio approached you, his steps slow and deliberate.
"Trying is not enough" he said bluntly.
He was in front of you now, towering over you, you didn't dare to look at him in the eyes.
"In this profession, just trying is not enough"
"You're not made to be a doctor if you think that," Your breathing hitched.
Those words hurt, you wanted to shout at him, tell him he's not right, that he's wrong.
But you knew he wasn't.
Every word he was saying was true.
All this effort, all these hours you've worked, and all these sleepless nights, to fail like that, because of a stupid simple mistake.
You really were not fit to be a doctor.
Your head was lowered, and the tears still ran down.
You tried to hold them back, but failed.
"I'm tired, Veritas,"
You just wanted him to stop.
You were tired, tired of studying, tired of not getting it right.
Ratio seemed to not soften at your words, his face still showed disappointment.
"You have to try harder, you have to put aside your tiredness," he said firmly. "If you don't, you will fail again"
"If you really want this, you have to do better"
You just wanted it all to stop.
"It's not fair," you began, your voice choked by the crying that didn't stop.
"The only thing you know how to do is tell me bad things about what I do," you sobbed.
"You're supposed to be my boyfriend, not someone who criticizes me,"
You felt frustrated, the words escaping your mouth without a care.
You wanted him to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be okay and that you would be a perfect doctor.
But he didn't say anything. He just looked at you, his expression unchanged.
"My job isn't to soothe your ego," he said firmly.
"My job, as a boyfriend, is to help you see the faults in yourself and strive to improve"
"And it seems that you don't like that very much," he added. His voice was almost cold.
You raised your head, looking at him with wet eyes.
"You're supposed to support me" you said weakly, almost a plea.
Ratio's face didn't change, his eyes fixed on you.
"I do support you," he said.
"But I won't lie to you or sugarcoat things for you," he added.
"I don't even have ego or something that you have to soften."
Those words were like a stab to the heart.
"I'm sick of you telling me that everything I do is complete shit,"
You were shaking with frustration, tears and snot streamed down your face. You felt so angry and so desperate that you didn't know what to say.
"I'm just trying to be honest with you and make you face reality," Ratio said.
"You need to be able to handle criticism if you want to be a doctor"
You just wanted him to stop, to shut up and say something like 'you're good' or 'don't cry it's okay'.
But he didn't, he just stood there, telling you the things you didn't want to hear.
You felt like you couldn't hold back anymore, all these days, weeks, months of not saying anything was starting to weigh on you.
"You never say anything good about me," you said in a shaky voice.
"You never have a nice word for what I do"
Ratio raised an eyebrow at your words, unamused by your outburst.
"You don't deserve my compliments"
That stung.
"Especially when you fail so miserably," he added.
Your body shuddered, those words made you feel so bad.
"All other boyfriends say nice things to their partners" you murmured.
"They give their support, even when they make a mistake"
Ratio almost laughed at your words.
"Oh, so you want me to be one of those 'other boyfriends' now?" he said with a hint of irony.
"You want me to pat you on the back and say you did a good job, even when you did a bad one?"
"Do you really think that's going to help?"
His tone was almost mocking, and it made you even more upset.
You wanted to shout at him, tell him that you just wanted him to say something nice and comfort you. But the words wouldn't come out.
"I…"
You tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a choked noise.
Ratio sighed heavily, the annoyance clear in his expression.
"I can't believe you're acting like a child because you can't handle a bit of criticism"
"Do you really think that's how a doctor should behave?"
"The answers I say are the same as those of my classmates and you still tell me they're wrong," you said.
"It's not fair. I'm fed up,"
Ratio crossed his arms, looking down at you.
"Life isn't fair," he said, as if explaining something obvious to a child.
"And a doctor's job is not to care about being fair"
He looked you up and down, almost with contempt in his eyes.
"I had expected more from you," he said.
"But I suppose I expected too much"
Those words hit you like a blow to the stomach.
You knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less painful.
Your hands were clenched into tight fists, your fingers digging into your palms.
"I hate you," you spat out between sobs, your voice full of anger and hurt.
Ratio seemed unperturbed by your words to begin with.
He looked at you with an expressionless face for a moment, before speaking.
"You don't mean that"
You were angry, hurt, and sad, all at the same time.
"I do," you said, your eyes wet with tears.
"I hate you, and I wish you didn't exist"
The words came out of your mouth, more like a desperate plea.
Ratio didn't react at first, he just stood there, looking at you as you sobbed.
"You don't mean it," he repeated, his voice low and firm.
"And you know it"
"Yes I do," you insisted, your voice almost a hiss.
"I hate that you always criticize me," you said, letting out a sob. "I hate that you never say anything nice,"
You saw a slight change in his face through your tearful sight.
Before it becomes the same again.
"If you hate me and you can't stand the criticism I give you," his voice sounded annoying, almost words spit on his face.
"Why don't you retire from medical school?"
"You don't even have the talent to be a doctor anyway,"
You felt your heart drop at those words.
Talent… That was the thing that you always lacked.
Ratio was always the perfect doctor, from the beginning of his studies, he was the top of the top.
You, on the other hand, struggled.
You weren't naturally smart like your classmates or he was. You needed to study more, work harder, make more effort.
And even with all that, you didn't come close to being like he wanted.
You had sacrificed so many things just to get here, your dreams, your hobbies, and even your old friends.
What nice words from your boyfriend.
Both you and he remained silent, with only the sound of the boiling woman whistling.
Your tears fell like waterfalls, but this time you weren't sobbing, you just stared at him.
There was a tense silence between the two of you.
You didn't know what I was thinking, you didn't want to know either.
But you might notice that his facial expression was no longer the firm one before.
He seemed even surprised by his words.
He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak.
But the words not came out.
Ratio was looking at your devastated face, the trail of tears already staining your clothes and cheeks.
Your red eyes stared at him, without blinking. Your expression seemed so different from a few seconds ago.
He had probably crossed the line.
Ratio stood there, looking at your tear-soaked face. He had never seen you so upset, so… desperate.
'Why don't you retire from medical school?'
His words will be repeated as a disc striped on your head.
The seconds passed slowly, the silence was only broken by the sound of boiling water.
Ratio moved slightly, taking a step forward, but stopped when his eyes met your gaze.
That look was almost one of… betrayal.
Something inside him stirred with frustration but guilt at the same time.
You forced yourself to take a breath, because you felt like you were going to drown.
You grabbed your bag with your trembling hands.
As you moved to grab your stuff, your eyesight never focused even on his shoes.
"Y/N…" Ratio tried to speak, his voice was hesitant.
He watched as you packed your things, your movements were jerky and with haste, with the only goal of leaving quickly.
You didn't look at him, avoiding his eyes completely.
"Where are you going?" His voice sounded more pleading, and with a hint of concern.
You felt your body tense, the sound of his voice made you shiver. You had forgotten how long it had been since you heard your boyfriend speak to you without being sharp or harsh.
"I'm leaving," you replied, your voice flat and emotionless.
"Do you care?"
"Of course I care" his voice was firmer than before, and maybe a little annoyed?
Ratio walked closer to you, his steps slow.
"I-, we need to talk"
That phrase came out of his mouth, almost in a pleading tone.
You continued to pack your things, not daring to look at him.
"We can talk tomorrow," you said. "I remembered I have something to do at home,"
Ratio's lips formed a straight line.
He just kept quiet.
You too, until you approached the door.
You felt the weight of his eyes on your back, almost burning.
You had your hand on the doorknob.
It was hard. More than you should.
"Tomorrow, then," he said, quietly.
The way Ratio spoke sounded almost vulnerable.
Your hand trembled on the doorknob.
You wanted to look back, to say something, to see his face.
But you didn't, because you know that seeing him would be even more painful.
"Sure," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.
Tumblr media
The day after your… discussion with Ratio.
You were walking through the corridors of the medical school.
You felt a slight anxiety, but also a sense of resignation for what was going to happen.
You hadn't heard from Ratio since yesterday, and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or not.
As you turned a corner, you saw a familiar figure standing in your path.
You froze for a moment when you saw him.
He was dressed as usual and that perfect hairstyle.
But at least he didn't look so perfect, like he hadn't slept the night before.
His eyes were fixed on you, almost as if he were inspecting you.
Ratio his face neutral as always, but with a hint of… remorse?
"We need to talk," he repeated the phrase from yesterday, his voice low and firm.
Right.
"Oh, right," you let go, feeling your body tighten.
But before he could add anything else, you talked.
"Maybe later?, right now I have a class,"
Ratio had expected you to have a defiant or annoyed air about you.
But your voice, and expression, were calm, almost soft.
"Fine," he said after a few seconds. "Then after class,"
"After class," you confirmed.
Ratio continued to watch you.
The sound of the bell ringing through the hall interrupted the brief moment between the two of you.
not looking directly into his eyes. Then, before he could say anything again, you continued on your way to your classroom.
Ratio watched your figure walk away, his brows slightly furrowed.
Every ticking sound seemed almost as if it was mocking you.
The anticipation making your stomach spin.
In fact, you hadn't gone to a 'class'.
You went to talk to the rector of the medical school.
You felt a lump in your throat, and your hands were slightly sweaty.
You had an idea of what you wanted to talk about.
But you weren't so sure.
Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, your heart beating fast in your chest.
Until you arrived at the office door. You knocked gently and the voice of the rector called you in.
The moment of the meeting was brief, you explained the situation and what you decided. The man listened intently to your words, a slight sense of sympathy in his eyes.
When you finished, he nodded slowly, his fingers tapping on his desk. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Yes," you responded, your voice firm but inside you were the nerves.
You didn't know if you had taken the right decision, but it was done.
"I don't want to question your decision, but-"
"I'm sure" you interrupted him abruptly.
It sounded a little… harsh, but you didn't want to hear any more arguments.
The rector gave a small resigned nod.
"Okay," he said slowly.
"I will start the procedures,"
You walked to where you knew Ratio would be teaching.
You didn't know why you approached, if you were supposed to leave without telling him anything.
Ratio was in the middle of his class when you appeared at the door.
He didn't see you at first, since his back was facing the door.
But when class ended a few minutes later, and everyone left, he turned his face towards the door after leaving his notes on his desk.
And there you were.
Your figure standing in the doorway.
Ratio's facial expression didn't change.
"Is your class over?," his voice was low, the room was empty, the last students had already left.
Which made the only sound a low ticking of the clock hanging on the wall.
Your feet didn't move toward him.
You were still standing by the door, your gaze fixed on the ground.
"Yes," your voice came out somewhat strangled.
For a few seconds Ratio was silent, as if contemplating you.
He started to walk towards you, his footsteps echoing in the room.
The air between the two of you felt almost… thick.
Ratio eventually stood in front of you, his height forcing you to lift your head to look at him.
"Can we talk outside of here?" You asked, something undesirable about your actions.
Ratio was quiet for a moment, staring down at you.
He looked almost… unreadable.
Finally he agreed with a low "sure".
You left the room and both you started walking together.
Neither of you spoke.
Silence.
Just the sound of the two of you walking through the corridors of the school.
Ratio continued to keep pace with you, but he was looking straight ahead, not looking directly at you.
The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty halls.
As the two of you walked, you felt a feeling of nervousness rise in your stomach.
You inhaled before you asked again. "Can I take your hand?"
As you broke the silence, Ratio slightly turned his head towards you.
He gave a light nod of affirmation.
You reached for his hand, and he allowed you to hold it.
His palm was warm, and the touch of his fingers was gentle, almost firm.
You felt less nervous, just for a while.
You walked with him until you got to a quiet cafeteria, where you saw people studying at tables.
You sat in front of him, making your hand release his.
As you sat down in the cafeteria, Ratio took a seat in front of you.
Both of you stayed silent for a few more seconds.
Neither of you had said anything since you came to this place.
You could feel a tension in the air, the silence slowly becoming unbearable.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.
"I assume you didn't go to class," his statement sounded like a mere fact.
"Uhm, we can talk about that at another time," you said, playing with your hands a little bit.
You missed the touch of his hand against yours, and you were going to miss that, that's for sure.
"I don't hate you, Veritas," you said, remembering your words yesterday, that you ranted when he was being unpleasant and rude on you.
Ratio's brow furrowed slightly.
He didn't say anything for a moment, he seemed to be thinking about something.
His gaze was focused on you, his eyes studying your expression almost intently, as if he was examining you.
"I know," he said eventually, his voice low and quiet.
Then he spoke again.
"I have to apologize," his words sounded almost reluctant, as if he didn't like saying them.
You could see the muscles of his jaw clenched, he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts and words.
It was clear that he wasn't used to apologizing.
He continued, the words coming out a little hesitant.
"I shouldn't have said those things,"
He paused again, his gaze averting yours for a moment.
Then he spoke again, and his eyes fixed on yours again.
"I was too harsh,"
Ratio's voice was quiet, almost like a whisper.
He was still struggling with those words, you were so used to him insulting you so easily but apparently it was different when he apologized.
Significantly that produced peace of mind in you.
You couldn't help but smile a little, feeling the knot in your throat.
"That's okay," you said.
Ratio's eyebrow shot up, clearly not expecting such a response.
You knew him enough that he probably would have been prepared to receive a scolding or an argument in response.
He was still looking at you, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes.
"That's… it?"
Ratio seemed almost dumbfounded.
"Yes, that's what I needed to hear," you said.
Anyway, you had already started with the procedures with the rector.
Maybe you just wanted to hear his words of apology, but as a good memory.
Ratio's expression changed, it was almost a mixture of relief and confusion. It was almost as if he had expected more resistance from you.
He remained quiet for a few more seconds, continuing to watch you intently.
That you were so forgiving after how he had acted made him feel… strange.
But maybe he shouldn't think too much.
Ratio exhaled slowly, his facial expression returning to its usual stoic and composed state.
"You're too soft, dear," he murmured, his voice low and quiet.
The next day it was the same.
He felt calm, because at least you weren't upset and at least you clarified that you didn't hate him.
It had spent almost 40 minutes of class and you were not there yet, it was strange to him.
Until when you looked for you on campus, where you were supposed to have other classes, you hadn't attended them. Rather, you weren't even on campus.
And, no matter how much he send you a message, it came out that he couldn't contact your number.
Almost recently, he had to come and talk to the rector, about you not coming and you could fail all your other courses. Until he took it upon himself to tell him that you had withdrew from campus three months ago.
Ratio's eyes widened, his facial expression transforming into a look of disbelief. "What?," his voice was low, but with a hint of alarm.
His mind was processing this new information, and it was hard for him to believe.
"They… withdrew three months ago?" His words came out slowly, his heart was starting to race.
Yes, you had taken the decision to withdraw from the medical school.
As much as it looked like a tantrum, you didn't care, maybe he was right.
So you followed his advice.
Tumblr media
Šcherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify or feed into ai
527 notes ¡ View notes
pedrospatch ¡ 1 year ago
Text
softness
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.
Tumblr media
She’d made her entrance into the world early.
About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.
Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.
And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.
For several months, all you could do was hope.
Hope for a smooth pregnancy.
Hope for a safe labor and delivery.
Hope for a strong, healthy baby.
When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.
“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”
Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.
On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.
Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.
“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”
“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”
For a split second, that panic had ceased.
“She?”
Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”
“I did?”
“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”
Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.
“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”
He truly, honestly hadn’t.
It’d slipped before he could even think about it.
But his accidental slip had been right.
After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.
“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.
Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.
“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”
Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.
“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”
Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.
“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”
You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.
“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”
He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 
“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.
Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”
Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.
“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”
Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.
Dr. Porter walks into the room.
She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.
“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”
Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.
Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”
“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”
“How’s she sleeping?”
“Like a rock.”
“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”
You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”
“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”
Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”
“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”
After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.
“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”
“No.”
Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.
Your face falls. “Why not?”
“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”
“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”
“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”
“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”
“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”
“Take off your shirt.”
His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”
The blood drains from his face and he pales. 
It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.
He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.
Still.
The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.
Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.
The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.
The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.
The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.
Joel?
He isn’t soft.
Nothing about him is soft.
Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.
“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”
Joel swallows harshly.
“What is it?”
“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”
Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”
His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.
Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.
The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.
And when it does, it breaks down.
“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”
Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”
You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.
The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.
It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.
He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 
And Rosemary stops crying.
She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.
Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”
“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”
Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.
“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.
“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”
Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really believe it?”
Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”
“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”
“Of course I do.”
“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”
Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”
Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.
Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.
Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”
“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”
Tumblr media
divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎
3K notes ¡ View notes
kawaiijohn ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Help a queer family of disabled nerds
Hey my name is Dante, I live in the Midwest with three of my best friends. We have four cats, one of which is my babyman whom I love very dearly.
His name is Latke Library Card Mango (LLCM). He's very orange and he's the light of my boyfriend, Kris, and I's life.
Cat pics are great right? Have a few.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A few months ago, latkes chronic bladder stones condition acted up which resulted in two emergency vet visits and a week long stay with his actual vet to get the stone removed.
It was the size of a chickpea.
Here's a photo of his post surgery when he had a nakie tummy. He was very very happy to see us.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He's since recovered, but the cost of this put us back around 1300 dollars in total. He's now on a special diet with rather pricey food to prevent this from happening but it might still act up eventually.
We've paid down some of his debt, but the interest is making it become more and more as we try to pay it down.
On top of this, our pipes backed up into our basement and refused to work suddenly a few weeks ago. We live in a house that is over a century old, and the clay pipes keep getting roots growing into them that causes them to not drain.
The roto had to come out and high pressure the roots out to clear them (which required expensive equipment), This put us back another grand.
To add to everything, our 700+ auto insurance bill is due in November, which is the worst time for this bill to need due, but both myself and Kris drive over ten miles to work during different shifts on opposite ends of town- neither of our jobs have public transit anywhere near them.
We are currently barely making ends meet-
I am a lunch lady at a public high school. I love my job. I feed kids who possibly don't even eat at home some days. I do work I am proud of.
However, I can only work around 25 hours a week without risking losing my insurance as a disabled person. My job does not have longer hour positions available, and I am too disabled to work more than this without ruining my body like I have done in the past.
I have been going without buying groceries out of fear that what little money I have in my account will be needed in an emergency. I will be out of work for a week this month, around Thanksgiving, and during Xmas break- unpaid due to me working in a school. Me being out also means no guaranteed meal every day.
Kris works in a factory. He is currently working 55+ hours a week to make what we can to pay off the bills and keep our house. He only has one and a half knees that hurt all the damn time and is barely eating either just to afford everything. His factory keeps calling for sudden shutdown weeks with little notice at the worst times, and he's the main breadwinner in the house for us.
The other two in our household, one is severely disabled and can barely work 10 hr/week (he is waiting on hearing back to receive SSI) on top of having multiple medical appointments a week to figure out what is wrong with his body and why it keeps failing. The other is a freelance artist who is working her butt off to make money while carting the previous to appointments nearly every day. She is full up on commissions at the moment, but when she opens them I'll reblog her posts.
I really didn't want to make this post. I hate asking for help. But we are drowning and there's no sign of land. None of us can afford to live on our own, nor can we move back in with our parents for various reasons.
All I'm asking for is some help. I don't care how much. Five dollars is five dollars. Five dollars is half an hour less we have to kill ourselves to make ends meet.
Even if we don't make the full amount, every dollar will help us get a bit closer to paying this stuff down so we can afford gas and regular grocery trips again instead of having to save up to go once a month like we are currently doing.
Our goal is 2000 dollars.
Yes, this is the high amount. I do not believe we will ever reach it. I can hope we can raise this much at some point.
But for now that's the dream number.
It's the number that is looming over our heads, telling us to pay up or lose our home.
It's not something we need this very moment, but just what we need in the next few months to be able to afford living without destroying our body or working three jobs/ridiculous hours.
We thank anyone who can spare a few bucks to help us, and if you can't afford it just pass this post along to someone who might be able to.
Please send as friend/family if you can, PayPal is threatening to withhold money sent as transactions now if you receive over a certain amount.
This includes sending things through my ko-fi account- so here's the preferred methods:
Tumblr media
Progress:
388.74/2,000
Thank you for reading. I love you.
478 notes ¡ View notes
rememberwren ¡ 7 months ago
Text
A Dichotomy of Thought || 4
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
CW: medical drama; food control; sexual assault
-
The first seizure comes out of the blue. 
“Did you leave the gas on?” 
“Of course not.” 
Johnny sniffs the air. “C’n smell it.”
Simon sighs a little. Against his better judgment, he leans back in his chair at the table, stretching away from the Jenga tower so that he can see around the kitchen island and confirm what he already knew: all four of the stove’s gas burners are in the off position.
Johnny has been using everything in his power to try to distract Simon from this game meant to help him attune his fine motor skills. Twice he’s gone to take a piss in ten minutes. Already once he’s knocked down the tower on purpose by bouncing his foot beneath the table. Simon wouldn’t be surprised if he were hoping the apartment would burn to the ground—anything to keep him from having to reach out with his left hand and work a tile free from the tower. 
“Gas is off,” Simon says. 
When he looks back, Johnny is gone. He’s right there, seated stiffly in his chair, but his stare is a thousand miles away, his mouth parted like he has lost his thought in the middle of a sentence. Then the sounds start: wet smacks of his mouth as he licks his lips again and again. 
“Johnny.” 
No response. 
Simon knocks his chair clean over standing up out of it. He takes Johnny by the shoulders and feels the stiffness in his muscles, the unwillingness to move. He doesn’t quite know what it is, not yet, but the possibilities whirl in his head like a cyclone: seizure maybe, or a stroke, or a burst aneurysm. Maybe Johnny’s brain is bleeding again, the pressure building inside his skull. Maybe this time, he’ll die. 
Not on Simon’s fucking watch. 
-
Johnny is already coming-to by the time the paramedics arrive. He is confused, convinced that he is missing school and his mother will take him o’er her knee. Simon stands there like the most useless lump in the world while the medics flash lights in Johnny’s eyes and take his blood pressure and listen to his heart.
“Sounds like a seizure,” one of the medics tells him. “But the hospitalists will be able to tell you more.”
“He’s not going to be happy about that.” 
“Who ever is?”
They have to fight him to get him on one of the stretchers to take him to the ambulance, and Simon feels liable to shatter watching them strap him down just like they did so often in the hospital when he first woke up, when he couldn’t even remember his own name or where his arm had gone. When all he knew was pain and his own fury.
Do something, you useless idiot, his mind whispers. He pushes through the paramedics (who are used to being bullied around by patients and family, but perhaps are not used to being bullied around by someone who looks like Simon, so they part like water for Moses) and takes Johnny’s hand, pulls it to his mouth and swears he tastes blood. Johnny’s wild, confused eyes find him. 
“Johnny. Calm down. Let ‘em do their jobs, yeah?” 
“Who are you?” Johnny bellows, trying to wrench his hand free. He nearly topples the stretcher, unaware of his own strength. He will ache something fierce in the morning. “Get out of my house! Ma! Ma-a!”
The hallway appears empty, but Simon can feel the eyes on him: eyes from behind peepholes and brave souls who crack their doors open, eager to see the latest in apartment building drama. Turning Johnny and his pain into a fucking spectacle. 
He sees you, then, your eye ringed in healing, yellowing bruises, looking out through a crack in your door. When you see him, the door opens a little more, revealing your slack, horrified face. Your mouth moves, forming Johnny’s name. 
But Simon has no time for you. He turns and follows the paramedics and the sound of Johnny’s screams. 
-
They sedate Johnny which turns him into a drooling mess for four hours. Simon isn’t sure if it’s preferable to the screaming; but it’s probably less painful for Johnny, which is all that matters. They scan his brain and load him full of Keppra to keep him from suffering from secondary generalization. Simon doesn’t understand the medical terms precisely—knows more about broken bones and cuts and trauma from the field, trauma that kills a man, not the kind that a man has to live with—but he comes to understand that they believe this was a minor seizure, and that Johnny might be headed for bigger, deeper waters. 
The pressure on his brain has been steadily lessening. The doctors say that epilepsy induced by a traumatic brain injury is rare, but Johnny’s specific injuries—bruising and blood on the brain, so much compression—are like a perfect storm to maximize his odds. He’ll be on anti-seizure medicine for the rest of his life, and if they are lucky, he’ll never have to suffer a Big one. 
“Where have you been?” Johnny asks him, throat raw, when he finally begins to come out of the fog of his medicine. Simon chose to sit on the side of the bed where he can hold Johnny’s hand, even if it means the nurses and doctors are walking around his hulking figure every time they need to get his vital signs. 
“Been here all this time,” Simon says. 
“Did I win?” 
“Did you win what?” 
“Jenga.” 
Simon laughs. It sounds wet. “Keep dreaming.” 
-
You lace your fingers together to keep them from shaking, resting them tidily in your lap like you are about to dip your head in prayer. Across from you, your boyfriend—fiance, he calls himself, though there is no ring, nor had he ever been down on one knee—sits eating the meal you carefully crafted for him: you’re becoming a very good cook. Necessity begs adaptation.
“I want my phone back,” you say as calmly as you can. 
He hums, his own phone flat on the table beside his plate as he scrolls while he eats. “Well. I don’t know. Did you learn your lesson?” 
“What lesson was that?” 
He stops scrolling, eyes flickering upward. He stops chewing even. A slow smile spreads across his face. It is a handsome one—the face and the smile. Once, that smile gave you butterflies. Now it spawns great moths inside you, eating away at your belly like an old woman’s age-worn clothes. 
There’s nothing that makes him happier than a good struggle (hadn’t he just whispered that in your ear last night, your body pressed into the bed while he took you, his words searching for the crack in your armor that they would find sooner or later, inevitable as the rise of the sun. He had kissed your neck and whispered into your ear that he missed the days when you fought back), and he senses one coming like a shark senses blood in the water. 
He’s not as smart as he thinks he is, if he doesn’t see you fighting back when you’re lying still. 
“You don’t remember?” he wonders. 
You say nothing. 
With two fingers, he slides his plate across the table to you and laughs. “You look so scared! It’s not a trick question. I don’t remember either. Are you hungry? Eat.” 
You pick up the fork, even though this is a game you’ve played often enough. You are hungry. There is a little lock on the refrigerator that you haven’t managed to pick. Not yet. The last meal you had was a greasy grilled cheese eaten standing up in the break room at work between shifts two days ago, and it had come out of your paycheck. 
He stands and leaves the room and comes back with your phone, setting it on the table between you both. 
“Let’s negotiate,” he says. 
-
When Simon and Johnny return two days later from the hospital, they nearly step on the piece of paper slid beneath the door, the one that reads: GOT A PHONE. TEXT ME—7C
452 notes ¡ View notes
seph-ic ¡ 2 years ago
Text
My favorite thing ever?
Nico has a service dog 
Because after Mr. D diagnoses him with PTSD he feels kind of hopeless and overwhelmed (especially after her hears that it can’t be easily fixed with magic or anything) 
So Mr D. Suggests that he get a service animal. 
Nico argues that animals hate him because he ‘smells like death’. Mr. D Points out that Mrs O’Leary doesn’t hate him. 
They both go talk to Hades who jumps at the excuse to win back his son by buying him more stuff. 
The dog ends up being a hellhound mix (don’t ask how.) 
The mix is mostly so she is a bit smaller for convenience (so she can fit in places.)
I'd assume she looks something like a Burmese mountain dog mix.
Her names Penelope (Penny) and Nico loves her. 
Nico and Her spend a couple of months doing service dog training with Artemis and the hunters (dogs are one of her patron animals.)
the time he spends with them also gives him a bit of closure and helps him process what happened to his sister.
soon enough she's graduated their honorary service dog school and is fully trained.
She goes with Nico everywhere. Since she is half hellhound she can assist with shadow travel and make it easier for Nico. (To Wills relief) 
She helps Nico with panic attacks and nightmares. 
She grabs things for him (KitKats, sword, water, pillows.) 
she can even open the fridge in the big house.
If Nico is having a really bad episode or a flashback he can’t come out of or if he’s in any physical danger, she knows to go get Will Chiron or MR D. In a heartbeat. 
Again a shadow traveling dog being useful.
Will makes extra sure that everyone at camp is aware of how service animals work. 
He teaches all the campers about what Penny's job is and why they’re not allowed to distract her.
On occasion when she isn't working she'll play fetch or get pets from some of the kids. 
All Nicos freind's and family love her.
Like everyone wants to be a part of this dogs life, Nico has literally never been more popular.
Hazel buys her a sweater for the holidays.
Rachel helps Nico also dye part of her tail at one point (to keep her identifiable) and they give it a cool design.
Annabeth asks if she can make her a cool dog house.
Piper insists that they take her to the groomer and buys her little bandannas.
Percy helps Nico teach her how to swim.
She will also grabs medical supplies for Will sometimes.
Grover also knows how to talk to her and regularly lets her know how Nico is doing (not that she doesn't already know.) 
Nico finds it easier to eat with Penelope.
It kind of forces him to eat on a schedule, since Penny has to be fed three times a day and the two of them can eat at the same time.
Nico also gives her little scraps off his plate sometimes which makes them both happy.
She gets absolutely spoiled. 
At one point Nico gets worried that she might get hurt fighting a monster. Hades assured him she won’t but Leo makes her some extra cool dog armor just in case
She also has a little bag attached to her vest for carrying supplies on quests and long journeys. (list of things these bags might contain: Ambrosia, Dog treats, Water/kitkats, extra weapons, drachmas.)
Nico connects so well with this fucking dog.
Like he always struggled with people and he never really even considered being an animal person.
But he absolutely adores Penny.
He talks to her about things that worry him and just finds her presence so unbelievably comforting.
Will solace (who I think personally would become a vet sooner than a doctor) Has this dog on the best fucking diet you could imagine
you have never seen a more medically healthy dog.
And she ADORES Will
Partially because of how calmer Nico is with him, and partially because he keeps a treat jar in the infirmary now.
The best part! she cannot die (from old age at least) Immortal service dog!
Having a huge fluffy head is great for pressure therapy.
Nico (neurodivergent) likes the texture of her fur and stims by petting her or playing with her ears.
Tumblr media
4K notes ¡ View notes
supernova41st ¡ 1 month ago
Note
Hear me out... TF2 mercs with an easily flustered s/o, like so easily flustered even purring out petnames makes reader bright red and stammering like a school girl with a crush
Blush Crush! ᥫ᭡⋆࣪
Tf2 x Flustered!Reader
A/n: I know I made a poll and everything but this req was so cute I just had to make it!! I tried not to do the wattpad “her face was blushing bright red” stuff so I just said rosy a whole bunch. Enjoy!!
Warnings: None
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Medic
❥ Definitely takes him some time to catch onto what’s happening.
❥ You had admired him from a distance since he seemed more attached to his projects than some lovey dovey crushes, but that didn’t stop you from yearning!
❥ Once it was your turn to take the Uber surgery your pulse had been rushing since you sat in that waiting room
“Let’s see.. your blood pressure is pretty good”
“Oh stopp! 🤭”
“..alright then”
❥ He did notice how rosy your skin gets when you’re in the same room, and whenever anyone mentioned his name.
❥ If he Ubers you you’re always on straight PANIC MODE.
‘gasp Oh my god. okay okay, is my stance good? Forget that-do I look good?? I don’t wanna die in front of him but I also don’t want to look stupid!! His eyes are practically glued to me right now! Oh, he’s dead.’
❥ Once he did catch up to what was happening he felt embarrassed himself for not noticing sooner since it seemed so obvious.
❥ Has no idea what to make of it, this guy spends his days experimenting on beheaded spies what do you want him to do?
❥ All of a sudden he was the one blushing and getting all flustered.
❥ He started avoiding eye contact while healing you, kicking the dirt all shyly 😭
❥ He’d deliver love notes via Archimedes, you can barely read it tho cuz he has that doctor hand writing <//3
Scout
❥ oh em gee 😒
❥ Don’t even get him started, he loves making you blush and giggle
❥ Scout is quite bold so as soon as he saw your face turn slightly rosy he became so flirty
❥ He’d do the classic lean against the wall type flirting before matches just to feed his ego before entering battle
“Yeah I’ve been hittin’ the gym recently, gotta get these babies ready for the summer”
“Oh wow! You’re so cool, Jeremy..”
❥ The rest of the team feels like a disappointed dad. “You could’ve done better” type shit
❥ Scout would steal your kills to look like he was “saving” you, you’re too flustered to notice
“Whew, you okay (Y/N)?”
“Oh my god, thank you Jeremy…”
❥ First date was at an arcade so that he could impress you with winning some claw machine prizes *he ended up losing 5x and you got him something instead
❥ Neither of you can get enough of each other, especially after dating. You two are always linking pinkies while the team goes over a plan of some sorts
❥ Y’all are that one hallway couple in high school.
“Alright team, we read- euah.. 😟”
“Sorry Engineer, just giving sum goodluck kisses”
“Eugh creepy, could you get neutered you dog?”
Engineer
❥ Engie does catch on to you being so flustered around him but he sorta doubts himself because he’s unsure if it’ll be a distraction from his work life.
❥ After a few weeks he thought “Hey, why the hell not?”, with how hard you were crushing on him, he was sure that soon enough you’d guys be together
❥ He is quite old fashioned, he’s the type to show up to your door step with flowers and would ask to go out for milkshakes
❥ On your first date he got you a bouquet of flowers he sculpted from metal
“Aww you got me flowers? How sweet..”
“Sure did sugar, my love for you oughta wilt away once it does.”
“….”
“..you good?”
You died.
❥ At least you were able to give him his sunflowers. His favorite kind!!
❥ He’s happy he was able to build up the guts to put himself out there again, he adores you, thinks you’re cute for the most part but also charming in a way.
“So do the sentries build themselves or?”
“Nope, I just gotta be quick with buildin’ then between fights, keeps me sharp”
“You’re so amazing Engie! I could listen to you talk all day ༯”
❥ You’re lucky he finds your swooning cute, otherwise he’d probably build some sentries to make sure you weren’t watching him sleep at night.
135 notes ¡ View notes
champion-of-love ¡ 4 months ago
Text
thinking about pink squad being the resident party throwers in ever after and all the shenanigans they get up to when planning
in the books, briar had the position of social throne on the student council (or something similar cant remember) so i just know that she has 100% memorized all the forms and steps on procedures on throwing events at eah.
apple wishes she has the same mastery as briar in paperwork. the girl can do budget proposals, logistical planning, role assigning, and etc in her sleep and thats not exaggerating.
(true hearts day being held in secret was an exception since grimm shot the event down as cupid suggested it. all their other events are approved by the school and grimm himself is going crazy trying to find a reason to reject their request but cant find a flaw in briar's event proposals.)
cupid is 'their guy' if they need anything. no matter how weird, how rare, how obscure, cupid knows how to get it. she just knows where to get it or knows someone who can get it for her ;)
girlie always has a delivery incoming to the point that blondie knows how to fake cupids signature so she could shoo away all the delivery birds that come to their dorm room because they need cupids signature before they could drop off their package.
hopper's their distraction guy. while he's not as charismatic in his human form, he's got a silver tongue in his frog form.
it isnt only just grimm who falls for hoppers made up play, but every teacher and professor falls for it too because he's just that good. made up plays, clubs, assemblies. he knows how to lie well enough that any school offical believe the lies coming out of his mouth.
(i know theyre teens still, but you cannot convince me that no one is drinking at any of these parties. theres no pressure to drink at all but the option's there if you wanna get loose and have a lil buzz. they're eventually going to drink alcohol in the future in balls and dances and such, so why not learn about their personal tastes and tolerance in alcohol now?)
the biggest hurdle in the pink squad's goal of getting happily ever wasted is, unfortunately, apple.
apple is a rule follower to her very essence and while she does go to the parties, she is against underage drinking. (but she's drunk on power all the time, okay jan.)
they figured out that the solution is just to always have a bowl of apple juice out in every party so that apple wouldnt know there's alcohol being served. they noticed that unless there wasnt any apple juice out, apple wouldnt try out any other drink. so with a bowl charmed to never run out of a.j., the students of ever after are free to drink as they please.
(i love the hc that ginger is also part of the pink squad, so im gonna give my hc of her in party planning as well)
ginger is their food and snacks girl. she makes the best food ever perfectly themed to the party that theyre throwing. from heart cakes on true hearts day, light finger food for the rager parties, to five course meals on their more classy events, ginger's got them covered. sometimes, she gets too conscious about what other people think of the food that she forgets to enjoy herself, but the pink squad drag her out of her funk and get her to have fun anyways
not members of the pink squad but people who sometimes help out
melody - the best dj in ever after! she uses these events sometime to test the reception to some of her upcoming songs before she releases them
daring - being blackmailed by cupid to act as a medic in case someone gets hurt. (this is also partly based on my cupid and daring friendship fic hjdjskr). he's the best in rescuing damsels, whats a drunk teen of not a damsel? (he's actually really good at giving first aid tho)
darling - security! they do have bouncers and such, but if anyones getting too rough at a party, they can get darling and a look from her gets the troublemaker running in fear or apologizing profusely
blondie - apart from committing forgery in cupid's name, she also gets the word out on her mirror blog when they have an event happening soon!
179 notes ¡ View notes
poppadom0912 ¡ 4 months ago
Text
Unexpected
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth
Summary: For nine months, you'd prepared and expected a baby but something unexpected happens.
A/N: Hello! I was back at school this week and have been so drained from the work load so I'm here relaxing and writing away. I only know surface level stuff so I'm sorry for any medical inaccuracies. Exams are next week so I won't be writing anything then. This is unedited and I apologise but please do enjoy!!!!
Tumblr media
Four years into your marriage with Kelly, two years with infertility issues, you had come to the point of acceptance and making the possible choice of fostering or adoption.
But then one day you got shot at work and when treating you, the doctor gave you the unexpected news.
You couldn't believe it. You were finally pregnant. After so much struggle, IVF and the unsuccessful tests, you were finally pregnant. You could finally have the family you dreamed of having as a little girl.
You weren't allowed back onto the field. Hank benching you to desk work till your baby welcomed itself. A choice that made you very angsty to get up and be on the move.
You didn't feel like much of a detective being sat at a desk all day while the rest of Intelligence went running around ragged looking and catching bad guys.
So during the moments of peace, you found yourself driving to the firehouse to bother your husband and the people he considered family.
The men and women of 51 loved you as much as they did Kelly, you were one of their own and you were doing the impossible by growing and delivering a mini Kelly Severide into the world.
Kelly rolled his eyes every time you brought up the gender. Call it mothers intuition but you had a gut feeling that you were having a boy, a concept which Kelly didn't mind but thought otherwise.
Refusing to find out the gender, you preferred to watch everyone wait impatiently, their bets pilling up as they put money on your baby's gender.
You scoffed seeing Kim and Hailey 'sneakily' pass money over to Cruz one night at Molly's.
The pregnancy flew by. Small milestones of your belly popping, the first kicks, the weird cravings and watching the growing blob develop on an ultrasound was so surreal but before anyone knew it, you were already hitting the nine month mark.
You left early. Today's case was running late and another murder got called it close to midnight, you were no longer needed and your husband sat at home. The thought of foot massage was ever so enticing.
Said man welcomed you home with the tea that soothed your nausea, your nightly snack at the go and he looked just delicious sitting in his pyjamas.
Pregnancy hormones man. Who would've thought.
And just like every night, the day ended with both of you in bed, his hands gently caressing your ballooning stomach, talking and debriefing with your unborn baby, smiling when a particular comment elicited a kick, showing the imprint on a foot against your skin.
Falling asleep wasn't easy though, especially with the new addition of Braxton hicks. You always found yourself tossing and turning, pushing Kelly to the other side of the bed so you could be left alone with the other love of your life: your pregnancy pillow. The triangular pillow a dream come true.
Eventually, you got up to refill your bottle and water, taking a quick pee because the pressure on your bladder was stupid.
Taking out some ice cubes from the ice tray, you slowly plonked them into your bottle, your eyes heavy with the sleep that refused to come from such a long day at work.
"Baby? Why are you awake?" Kelly's voice was hoarse as he appeared in the kitchen, his hair a mess as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes.
"Your son is playing football in here. He's already obsessed." You whispered back, letting him recollect himself as he made his way towards you, watching through bleary eyes as you closed the freezer door.
"My son huh? Well I think our daughter is just really excited to meet her very impatient parents." Kelly smirked, his arms circling around your waist before he crouched down to be face level with your protruding stomach.
"Hey baby girl." He whispered, his eyes focused on your stomach and nowhere else. "Your mummy is very tired after working all day. She needs all the sleep before you come home. Do you think you could do me a favour?"
You smiled softly at the sight. Your husband was already smitten and the baby wasn't even here yet.
A few seconds passed and all of a sudden, the little football match came to an end.
You scoffed, looking down at your husband incredulously. "Wow."
Standing back up, Kelly now smiled down at you. "Obviously, I'm the favourite parent."
"Watch it lieutenant." You pouted, poking his chest. "I've got some detectives in my back pocket."
Smiling at each other, basking in the silence and warm lighting, you almost forgot about your sleep deprivation.
Breaking you out of your thoughts was the sound of water dripping, Kelly's face mirroring your thoughts.
"Did you leave the tap on?"
You frowned, you were sure you-
Your mind went blank the millisecond you registered your wet trousers.
Looking down at where your feet would've been had it not been for your stomach being in the way, you swore lightly under your breath.
"I think he interpreted your words differently." You said, looking back up at Kelly who stood astonished.
"Baby's coming today."
*****
You didn't go to the hospital straight away.
Instead, you wiped yourself down and changed clothes while Kelly cleaned up and brought out your already packed hospital bag all while timing the length and time between your contractions.
The sun was rising when you made your way to the hospital, your midwife already in the loop the moment your water broke.
Settling into your room, dressed in your gown, you sighed.
You were bored. What were you supposed to do while you waited for the birth to get into motion.
Your epidural had been confirmed and scheduled for later on when your contractions progressed further. The nurse had just come to measure you before leaving.
You sent a quick text to Hank, apologising for such short notice, saying your maternity leave would start earlier than planned. Kelly had just called Boden, his shift starting not too long ago.
"Boden's got Cruz covering for me." Kelly said, putting his phone in his pocket as he stood by your bedside.
"I'm all yours for the next few weeks."
"I would love you so much if you could just-" You sharply inhaled at the painful contraction, doing the breathing exercises you practised with your midwife. "Just get this baby out."
"How about we go on a walk? Might help speed things up."
All Kelly was met with were your grabby hands.
*****
Several hours later and you were in active labour.
You were surrounded by nurses and the doctor, Kelly glued to your side but at some point when you were pushing, he was ushered away by a nurse who you briefly heard mention the words 'umbilical cord'.
"It's a girl!"
You choked back a sob, your eyes watery as they placed your daughter on your chest for skin-to-skin. Your hands immediately flew to hold her. Your emotions so haywire that you couldn't care less about the cleanliness of her little body.
Inhaling shakily, you looked up through tears at Kelly who was back at your side. He kissed your forehead multiple times, his hand on top of yours so you could both hold your baby.
After a few minutes, she was carefully taken away to be weighed and clean, leaving you and Kelly to revel alone. Reality came crashing down: you had a daughter, your had a-
"Mrs Severide, what's wrong?"
Hearing the doctors question, Kelly looked away from your daughter and back down at you in alarm, his eyes wide in confusion at your own confused face.
"I- I feel..."
You weren't able to finish as you were overcome with the sudden need to push.
It seemed that even without you voicing your thoughts, they knew exactly what was happening.
"Okay Y/N, we go again." The OB said as you squeezed the blood out of Kelly's hand. "Push just like you did."
The next few moments felt like a blur. You weren't too sure what was reality and what was an illusion - everything was happening too fast for you to comprehend what was actually happening.
All of a sudden, a second cry broke out, as loud and high-pitched as the first.
"It's a girl!"
You blinked, your head clearing up.
"Congratulations! Two beautiful girls!"
Then the apparent second baby was placed on your chest, a routine that was just performed not even ten minutes ago.
The tears were flowing now with nothing to stop them. Your shaky hands went to hold her small body as the clouds dissipated and the sky finally cleared.
*****
The two baby beds were rolled towards your bed, Kelly standing up when the nurses entered the recovery room.
"Congratulations mum and dad!" One of the nurses started.
"You have two healthy identical twin girls."
You couldn't believe it, no one could.
There was never a point during the nine months of pregnancy that would even suggest you having twins and now all of a sudden, your leaving the hospital with two twin girls.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear Kelly's conversation with the nurses.
"Kelly..." You looked at your husband who was just as shocked as you. "Kelly we have two babies."
"We have twin girls babe." Kelly emphasised, his stupid smile covering his entire face.
"We're not even prepared for one let alone two." You said, sitting up to pick one of them up. "Baby- oh my gosh, we have twins."
Before Kelly could reply, the room door opened and Matt poked his head in. "Knock Knock, can we-"
Matt stopped himself as he laid eyes on the baby on your chest and then the baby that was being picked up by Kelly.
"Matt, move out the way, let me see-" Sylvie barely stopped herself from squealing as she saw the two babies.
"Holy shit, twins?!" Matt half frowned, following Sylvie to your side. "When did this even happen?"
"Literally an hour ago man." Kelly said in greeting to his best friend. "No one had any idea."
"AH- two girls! Congratulations, oh my gosh I'm so happy for you guys." Sylvie gushed, cooing at the little bundles in your arms.
"Oh yeah, Jay and Hailey were somewhere behind us."
Another knock sounded just as the words came from Matt, the door creaking open for the blonde detective to make herself known.
"Y/N, hey-" Hailey gasped so loudly that Jay's swearing could be heard from inside the room.
"Woah." Jay's lack of words proved his surprise.
You and Kelly laughed.
"Well Kelly was right, they're girls."
Jay and Sylvie high-fived, their smirks making it evident they were on the winning side of the bet.
"This is definitely unexpected. I have no idea how we're going to manage." You said, handing one baby off to Hailey while Kelly lay the other into Matt's outstretched arms.
"That's what we're here for, along with the rest of 51 and Intelligence." Sylvie said, looking fondly at the baby in Matt's arms as she held your hand in both of hers comfortingly.
"You've got a very big family ready to help. We're first responders, it's our job."
You hugged the blonde, overcome with sudden emotion.
"Besides," Jay spoke up, gently taking the baby from Hailey's arms into his. "What godparents would we be?"
The room dissolved into laughter.
You had two adorable girls and an entire village at your beck and call. While unexpected, they were more than welcome with open arms and open hearts.
330 notes ¡ View notes
shmaptainwrites ¡ 11 months ago
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)
WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)
NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work
Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn
Tumblr media
James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 
Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 
Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?
After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 
He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 
And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 
When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 
You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 
“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 
“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 
“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 
“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 
“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 
“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 
“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 
“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 
“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 
“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 
“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 
“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 
“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 
“Almost,” you smiled. 
“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 
“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 
“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 
“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 
There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 
“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 
“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 
You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.
Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 
Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 
“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 
“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 
“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 
“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 
“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 
“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 
“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 
“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 
“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 
“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 
“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 
“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 
Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 
“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 
“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 
“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 
“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 
“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 
James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”
“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 
“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 
“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 
“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 
“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 
“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 
“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 
“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 
James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.
—
Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 
He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 
His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 
On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 
“It’s already done?” he asked. 
“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 
James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 
As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 
He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 
“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 
James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 
“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 
“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 
“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 
“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 
“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 
“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 
“You live here?” he asked. 
“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 
“And so that’s how you know French?” 
“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 
“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 
“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 
“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 
“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”
He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 
“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 
“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 
You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 
“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 
“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 
You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 
“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 
“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 
“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 
He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 
“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”
James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 
“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 
“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 
You ignored his response and continued, 
“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 
James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 
“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 
“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 
“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 
“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 
“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 
You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 
“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 
“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 
—
A few years later… 
“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 
“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 
“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 
“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 
“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 
“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 
You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 
James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 
“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 
“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.
“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 
“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 
“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 
“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 
“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 
“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 
“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 
“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 
James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 
“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 
“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 
“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 
“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 
“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 
James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 
—
The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 
His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 
James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 
The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 
You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 
Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 
“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 
“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 
“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 
“A month,” House said. 
“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 
“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 
“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 
“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 
“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 
“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 
“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 
“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 
When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.
“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 
The man looked at James strangely before saying. 
“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 
“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 
“Hmm.” 
James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 
House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 
When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 
“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 
“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 
“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 
They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 
“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 
“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 
His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 
Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 
House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 
“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 
“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 
“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 
“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 
“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 
Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 
“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 
James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 
“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 
You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 
“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 
“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 
“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 
“That would be correct,” you smiled. 
“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 
“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 
“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.
“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 
“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 
You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 
—
“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 
“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 
“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 
“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 
“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 
“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 
“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 
“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 
“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 
“We did?” James raised a brow. 
“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 
“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 
Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 
When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 
“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 
“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 
James shook his head, 
“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 
“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 
“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 
“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 
James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 
“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 
“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 
“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 
James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 
“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 
“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 
“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 
“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 
“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”
“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 
“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 
“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 
“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 
“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 
“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 
This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 
—
“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 
“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 
“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 
“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 
“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 
“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 
“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 
“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 
“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 
“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 
“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 
“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 
“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 
—
Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 
“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 
James put down his glass and nodded his head. 
“They are okay with it, right?” 
Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 
“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 
James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 
“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 
“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 
“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 
“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 
“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 
“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 
“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 
“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 
You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 
“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 
“Nah,” he waved his hand. 
“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 
“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 
“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 
James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 
“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 
“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 
“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 
“So there’s someone-?” 
“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 
“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 
After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 
“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 
“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 
“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 
“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 
“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”
“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 
“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 
—
James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 
“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 
“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 
“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 
James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 
“You noticed?” he asked. 
“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 
“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 
“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 
You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 
“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 
“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”
“It must be hard not living near them.” 
James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 
“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 
“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 
“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 
“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 
“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”
“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 
“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 
“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 
—
James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 
He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 
He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 
“Hey James, are you okay?” 
Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 
He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 
“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 
“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 
“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 
You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 
“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 
James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 
“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 
You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 
Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 
So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 
—
“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 
“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 
“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 
“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 
“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 
You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 
Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 
“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 
“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 
“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 
“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 
“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 
Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 
“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 
“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 
“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 
“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.
“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 
“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 
“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 
“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 
“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 
James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 
“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 
James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 
It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 
“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 
“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 
As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 
“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 
“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 
“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 
“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 
“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”
You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 
“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 
After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 
“What did you pick?” James asked. 
“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 
“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 
You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.
It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 
Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 
You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 
“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 
“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 
You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 
“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 
“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 
James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 
“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 
It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 
You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 
“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 
“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 
“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 
“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 
“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 
James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 
“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 
James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 
He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 
—
James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 
“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 
There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 
James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 
“Now hush and let me read.” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 
James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 
For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 
“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 
“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 
Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 
It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.
Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 
“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 
“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 
With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 
You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 
You had heart-eyes. 
And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 
With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 
“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 
You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 
“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 
James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 
“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 
“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 
“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 
You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 
“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 
“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 
James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 
“Makes me wish I had said something,�� you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 
“Y-You would’ve said something?” 
Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 
“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 
You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 
“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 
“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 
James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 
The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 
Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 
“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 
“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 
“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 
He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.
Tumblr media
@cuntyvicodin
428 notes ¡ View notes
diremoone ¡ 2 years ago
Text
layers | geto/gojo.
— short story
Tumblr media
you’re their favorite kouhai, everyone at tokyo and kyoto knows this. they also know that if anyone or anything were to touch or harm you in any way, they would feel the wrath of the most powerful duo. and one day, someone is dumb and foolish enough to do exactly that.
note(s): this isn’t a full complete drabble with a complete ending, but it’s something I’ve enjoyed writing. flop or no flop, this was a fun piece to write :D But tbh I’m thinking about deleting it and redoing it, or adding more. or maybe a part two lmao??
****
Trees were nothing but a blur of green to your vision. The car was going fast, way too fast for you to make out anything but the simple colors blue and green.
You blinked several times, shaking your head to keep yourself from dozing off. You were tired, so very very tired from such a long and exhausting two days of being on a First Grade mission that turned out to be a bigger issue and much more than it was worth.
They should’ve sent backup with me…
You leaned your head against the back of the backseat. You closed your eyes for just a moment, then opened them again for just a few seconds. The process was rinse and repeat; the only way to keep yourself awake.
Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t… Just… don’t…
“Hang on, Miss [Last Name]!” frantically spoke the driver. He was probably looking in the rear view mirror, seeing you laying back on the seat with your eyes opening and closing. More so of the latter.
You heard the sound of a dial, then the voice of your driver hurriedly speaking into it. Problem was, you couldn’t understand a single word he was saying. It was all so… incoherent. Funny enough, it sounded like you were underwater.
Your head lolled to the side again, eyes half open with nothing but the same blur of green outside the window. Your hand was still over the wound, covering it with as much pressure as possible until you got to the school.
Unless you passed out first.
You could only imagine your upperclassmen holding this over your head as a joke for the rest of your life.
If you got to a medic in time, that is.
——————————
Everything had been fine. Just fine.
Great, in fact, he muses.
Him and Geto had been getting some ice cream to satisfy his sweet tooth, while Shoko complained that he was eating too much while munching away on her own ice cream like a damn hypocrite.
“What should we do now?” Shoko questioned.
“Might as well head back to the school,” Suguru suggested. “It is getting late and—”
“You’re no fun!!” Satoru complained. “Why are you so by the book?”
The black-haired male gives his childish friend a look of both amusement and exasperation. Of course Satoru was going to be like this. It was in his nature to be as anti-rules as possible. Especially if it meant pissing off the higher-ups.
“Alright, we’ll go—”
Shoko holds up a pointer finger to halt the conversation. “Aha, hold up guys. Sensei’s calling.”
“Maaaan! What now?” Satoru whines.
Just as the white-haired male goes to complain some more, he realizes Suguru’s expression changes. And that he’s not looking at him anymore — that he’s looking at Shoko now. So Satoru does the same, and now he sees his brunette friend’s face sheet white, eyes growing red like she’s about to start crying.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.”
She clicks the phone off and looks to Geto, the whites of her eyes beginning to become red.
“Shoko?”
“We need to get back to the school. [Name]-chan’s hurt.”
The two males freeze, eyes going wider than saucers. But that reaction doesn’t last but two seconds, and Suguru’s pulling out his fastest Cursed Spirit he’s got and finishing the rest of the route back to school on it with his friends.
He and Satoru turn to look at one another, and Suguru knew his heart was the only one beating wildly in nothing but terror.
The three of them watched as the car pulled up; they landed as soon as the driver got out of the car.
Satoru’s and Suguru’s breaths hitched the second they landed beside the car.
Anger. Rage. Was there even a word to describe how they felt?
The red of your blood became the red of their rage — the red being the only color that they could see.
“Shoko, can—”
Her hand is already placed on your left side, her Reverse Cursed Energy pumping through your body. But the damage was done.
Your head rolled to the back of the seat, right hand limp on your stomach and left hand open, hanging loosely over the edge of the seat. Blood covered your palms, all the way up the inside of your forearms and up to the crook of your elbow.
And how pale your skin was. Was anyone supposed to be that shade of skin color? Of course it wasn’t. They knew that already. You weren’t supposed to ever be this way. Their adorable kouhai that was just too sweet and too nice for the world they lived in was never supposed to end up like this: sickly pale, blood pouring from the wound in your stomach and knocking on death’s door.
Shoko finishes healing you after what seems like forever. In reality, it’s only just a few minutes. But in those few minutes, both Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru come to a full understanding of something: they realize that you mean a lot more to them than just being their cute little kouhai. They can’t imagine you living in a world without you in it. Every thought of you not being there didn’t settle with them. They hated it. They weren’t able to envision coming to school without you passing by them in the halls. Seeing a world where they visited your headstone was unacceptable.
So many thoughts, so much anger, all accumulated within a matter of minutes that drives a permanent mark into their hearts and minds: that a world without you in it is not worth living in, and they love you too much to see anything else bad happen to you.
Suddenly, Yaga Sensei appears before them. Shoko moves out of the way so he can grab you, haul you into his arms and carry you to the infirmary where they have painkillers and other medicine. Shoko follows him, but Satoru and Suguru remain behind.
“Suguru?”
“Hm?”
“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”
“That we need to kill someone?”
“And that’s why you’re my best friend.”
———
Taglist: @vagabond-umlaut • @torusbabygoat
not the gojo x student reader you guys wanted ik ik but I wanted y’all to read this anyway so sue me 😭😭
3K notes ¡ View notes
ana-bananya ¡ 5 months ago
Text
€1,814/€5,000
This campaign was started back in April. Donations have been very slow.
ThomaSerena and his family evacuated from Sudan to Egypt. Since then, he and his brother have been struggling to find a source of income to support their family. He struggled to create this link because he prefers to be the one helping people, but he ultimately decided to seek support for the sake of his family.
ThomaSerena and his family are also facing increasing rent to the rise in the cost of living in Egypt. On top of these financial burdens, his family is also struggling with the stress of having to relocate to a new place after everything they've lived through.
Despite his hardships, ThomaSerena has also dedicated himself to helping 4 other Sudanese families in need:
€10,195/€50,000
Here are the details given about the 4 families this fundraiser is for:
1. Salih's family:-
Salih Abd Al whab is still stuck in sudan with his younger brother and sister along with their mom, their dad passed away may he rest I peace. Salih is pressured by the circumstances to join the army and help take our country back and I applaud him for it, he refuse to do otherwise, but his only wish is to save his family hopefully escape to egypt and live a better life or support them while they're in sudan.
2. Ahmed' family:-
Ahmed Atif is the eldest in his family, he fled to egypt as well. Ahmed is the eldest of the family and he was a last year medical student before the war started. They lost everything as well, and he was forced not to proceed with his studies due to insufficient funds, I urge you to help him finish his last year and help his family.
3. Ali's family:-
Ali Assir fled to egypt as well with his family along with his mother, his wife and his 3 year old child. Ali was an aspiring guy that started a family before the war and was taking care of his mother as well after his father's death may he rest in peace. He was working tirelessly to give his family a good life, but all of that came crumbling before his eyes with the start of the war. His mother is old, ever since they moved to egypt she has been sick and suffers from depression due the circumstances they're in. Ali and his wife can't think if sending his daughter to school since they barely have enough funds to live by. Helping them will help their mother and help their daughter start her education that is much needed and it pains my heart that a young child won't start their education because of this. I'm sure this will also help his mother with her depression if she sees her family doing well.
4. Noha's family:-
Noha Ibrahim also fled to egypt along with her mother and father. She had an older brother but he passed away while waiting for his visa in Halfa, which is the boarder between sudan and egypt due to his deteriorating health, may he rest in peace.
Noha and her family haven't been the same since his death. And right now noha is the sole breadwinner of the family and she can't keep up, both her parents are old and require medical care. Helping her will help them as well.
175 notes ¡ View notes
munson-blurbs ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 12 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff
WC: 4.3k
A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.
Divider credit to @saradika
November 4, 1999
At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.
Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.
You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.
Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”
“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”
You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 
“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 
Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 
“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”
You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 
Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?
Tumblr media
Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 
Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 
But this feels…different. 
“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 
Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 
“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  
He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 
“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”
Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 
“Ev, I think?”
Shit. 
Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”
You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 
After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”
You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”
Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”
It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 
You hope. 
Tumblr media
Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 
Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 
As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 
Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”
Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”
“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”
“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 
There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 
“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 
Tumblr media
Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.
“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 
Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 
“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 
“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 
The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 
Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 
“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 
The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 
“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”
He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 
Tumblr media
5:46 PM. 
You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.
Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.
Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–
“I’m here!” 
Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.
He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.
“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 
His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”
You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”
He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”
It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”
“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.
Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”
“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”
“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”
You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.
“I love you.” 
His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 
You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 
“I love you, too.”
Tumblr media
It all happened so quickly. 
One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 
“You really can’t feel that?”
“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”
After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 
And then a nurse rushes in. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”
 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”
The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”
It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 
He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.
“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.
You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.
“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 
Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 
“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.
He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 
As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 
You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”
“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”
Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”
He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”
Tumblr media
Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 
But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 
“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”
Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 
Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 
“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”
Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”
Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”
“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”
“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”
“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 
Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”
It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 
“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”
Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”
Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 
Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 
But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 
--
476 notes ¡ View notes
pronoun-fucker ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
IN 1986, Sophie Ottaway was born with a very rare condition which required immediate surgery.
Cloacal exstrophy happens when the organs in the abdomen do not form correctly in the womb, resulting in babies born with organs such as the bladder or intestines outside the body.
Doctors had to operate to save her life.
Sophie was actually a boy, with a tiny, damaged penis but healthy testes.
But doctors advised Sophie’s parents that their baby’s male ­genitalia should be removed to avoid further complications.
The baby had to be registered by the following day, which meant they had to decide whether to tick male or female on the form.
Sophie’s parents Karen and John followed the surgeons’ advice.
“They were told not to tell me,” says Sophie, a warm and friendly 37-year-old who has since fully forgiven her parents for their decision.
“We are very close,” she tells me, “despite going through some rocky times in the past.”
Life changed for Sophie, who grew up in Beverley, East Yorks, when she was 22 years old and visiting her GP surgery for tonsilitis.
She says: “I saw on the computer screen that I had XY chromosomes, had been castrated hours after birth, and an incision was made where a vagina would be.”
Although Sophie exploded at her parents in the moment, she buried her feelings about it all until 13 years later when, hospitalised during a Covid lockdown, it was discovered she had developed sepsis that had ended up in her intestines.
‘I went into 13 years of absolute denial’
This was what led her to decide to speak out.
Sophie was already aware that many children and young people were being groomed in gender ideology, persuaded to take puberty blockers, then set on a medical pathway for life.
She says: “At age 11, as I approached puberty, they put me on oestrogen because there’s no ovaries, and no testes to produce testosterone.
“This is what doctors are doing now to kids who wish to change gender — putting them on blockers.”
It was a lie when Sophie was told she had to take oestrogen for life because her ovaries had been removed at birth as a result of damage.
Sophie was born biologically male. “So obviously there were never any ovaries,” she says wryly.
She adds: “The time to tell me and try to get informed consent was at the point we introduced the endocrinologist. This is the time puberty blockers are being offered to kids, so I make that connection with what’s happening today.”
When feminists and others critical of the medicalisation of children with gender dysphoria have said that these drugs and interventions are harmful, we are often labelled bigots. But Sophie is speaking from personal experience, in the hope that she will be listened to rather than dismissed and vilified.
About five years ago, Sophie chose to stop taking the hormones, because “I was adamant that many problems in my life were being caused by them.
“I was about 4st heavier than I am now, and I wasn’t eating badly. I was having bladder pain beyond belief.
“I had fatigue and was quite angry a lot of the time.”
By then, Sophie had been taking oestrogen for 20 years, and decided enough was enough. She was told she should keep taking it because it was for bone density, to which she replied that she would have regular bone scans.
Sophie had no choice but to go on oestrogen, because the doctors prescribed it to her as a child — but surely she should be listened to when she warns of the effects cross-sex hormones have on the body?
Now that she no longer takes it, all her symptoms have improved.
She says: “We’re selling this idea of perfection in the guise of changing gender. You’ve got all of these problems and might be struggling because you don’t fit in at school, or because you like boys’ toys and you’re a girl, or vice versa. As someone who knows all about decisions made under time pressure and who has paid the price, Sophie’s understanding of the sales pitch being made to children before puberty is crystal clear.
She says: “You’ve got a sale based on a time pressure.
“We’re going to push you through this for the puberty blockers, we’re going to make that sale.”
Keen to stress that there is a big difference between a girl behaving “like a boy”, wearing boys’ clothes and haircuts, Sophie adds: “Puberty blockers are a different level to how we dress and which toys we favour.”
The idea being sold is that gender reassignment is the answer to all your problems, but Sophie says: “What you get is genital mutilation, castration, and a lifetime of dangerous hormones, which was my experience.”
As she points out: “Children can’t vote, they can’t drink, can’t drive.
“But you can choose to do something life-changing.”
Sophie hopes that by speaking out and telling her unvarnished truth, some children — and parents — might make a different choice.
She says that when she found out that she’d been born male, “I obviously knew I had urological problems, and I knew that I had no vagina because of the surgeries.
“I didn’t address it at that point. I was 22, in second year at university.
“I had a plan of my life. And dealing with this monstrosity was not in the plan. I got up the next day and went to university.
“I still had the same connection with my friends. I was still the ­person I was 24 hours ago.
“But I went into 13 years of ­absolute denial.”
She never told anyone about it, not even close friends.
‘When I came out of hospital I was raging’
Then, during the pandemic, Sophie found herself in hospital a couple of times, and it all came crashing down.
She recalls: “They thought it was a kidney infection, but they couldn’t get to the bottom of it.
“When I was born they had fashioned some female genitalia. Brown putrid fluid starting leaking out of the hole and it would not stop.
“I presented at the hospital and I had to tell them for the first time about what had happened to me.”
When doctors examined her, they saw that there was something very wrong.
It turned out there was a mass in her abdomen, which was the neovagina — inserted when she was a baby — and left to rot.
Sophie says: “I found out from my mum that they had inserted it when I was two days old, and that one day it popped out and was found in my nappy.”
Surgeons replaced it during a later operation, sealed it up, and left it, which is why it led to sepsis many years later.
“No one had been told it had been put back in,” says Sophie.
Up until this point she had thought that the surgeon had simply operated to save her life — “which he did, but he also did a hell of a lot of other stuff that was unnecessary.”
What’s more, the doctors failed to do something that was necessary — namely, address the complex urological problems that have plagued Sophie all her life.
She says this “is one of the things that has the biggest effect on having any kind of intimate relationship. And yet the one thing that they could have fixed is my incontinence.”
She tells me: “When I came out of hospital, I was raging at that point.”
And she thought that by speaking out, she might be able to help those who think they are in the wrong body.
Sophie says: “A lot of them are being groomed to feel that way or question those thoughts in the first place by the school and the system and the media. Those kids need help.”
A much better solution, she argues, would be to divert funding currently being used for puberty blockers, cross sex hormones and surgery and ­allocate it to children’s mental health services and counselling.
Sophie says: “We can work with that person to find out why they are feeling like this.
“Then, maybe when they become an adult, they might be mature enough to be properly informed and consent to any changes to the outer body.
“It is often assumed I am transgender, but I really don’t like labels. I am just Sophie.
Poised for a backlash from the more extreme trans activists, Sophie makes it clear that she respects any adult’s decision to choose that path — so long as they are properly informed.
But she is clear that this is never appropriate for children.
“I don’t want this to happen to any other baby born with this condition,” she says.
“We have to find better ways to support kids to live in the body they are born with.”
Link | Archived Link
758 notes ¡ View notes