#and i have a second appointment too so great now im keyed up for that too

[skin-slave]

One of my least-favorite things is when the Dr asks if my meds are working enough. What does that even mean? What's enough? How am I supposed to know? Why isn't there a strip I can pee on and if it turns pink I'm good?

#so stressful #i always feel like its a test and im giving the wrong answers and she just wont tell me #i know thats not true but that doesnt stop the feeling #and i have a second appointment too so great now im keyed up for that too

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #jane the virgin #jane the virgin AU #lot #hslot st louis

[kumeko]

Prompt: School!AU SasuIno, fighting for the place of “main bitch of the school” (love/hate, slow burn)

A/N: For @im-a-friend-you-need for the @narutosecretsanta ! Ahaha, Sasuke was a little hard to twist into this AU until I remembered Kare Kano and then BAM, idea.

…

…

…

…

Ino knew how to handle fame. Ever since preschool, she’d always been the most popular kid in her year and sometimes even her whole school. And why wouldn’t she be? She was gorgeous, with her cheerleader figure, long blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. With a charming smile, witty attitude, and the generosity to help her classmates, it was little wonder she was the center of every party, play, or even music recital. Every club named her an honorary member, and she’d saved the student council more than few times. Her classmates loved and admired her. Her teachers adored her. People lined up to confess their love. Fanclubs watched her every move.

 In short? Ino was used to attention and knew how to handle the spotlight.

 “Ino-chan!” A girl waved eagerly as Ino stepped on the schoolgrounds. Her ponytail bobbed as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “You look as amazing as ever.”

 And in high school, that hadn’t changed in the least. Smiling graciously, Ino waved back. “Thanks!”

A senior approached her from her left, several papers in his hand. “I know that you wanted to help the student council only occasionally, but something—”

 “I’ll stop by at lunch.” Ino carefully took the papers, making sure not to crinkle them. “We’ll figure it out.”

 “Oh, thank you.” He slouched slightly, relieved.

 Ino hummed as she continued to greet her loving fans. Honestly, what would they do without her?

 A loud squeal behind her answered her question and Ino stopped stock-still at the infuriating sound. She didn’t have to turn around to know why people’s eyes slid past her, why she was suddenly the moon to someone else’s sun.

 She pivoted anyway, fighting the urge to scowl as Sasuke Uchiha walked onto the school grounds, utterly uninterested in the attention he was getting.

 One of these days, she was going to kill the bastard for doing this to her.

 -x-

 “He doesn’t even care!” Ino whined, lying on a bench in the school’s greenhouse. There were very few places where she could fully relax here, the chief too being the greenhouse and the roof. Unfortunately, the teachers kept the key to both.

 Fortunately, her best friend and somewhat nerd, Sakura Haruno, was in charge of watering the plants in the greenhouse. With her key, it was easy for the pair to slip in for a private lunch, away from prying eyes and ears. Finished eating, Ino rested her head on Sakura’s lap as she ran through her daily rant.

 “Like if he wanted it or even cared for it, I could respect that. I’d hate it, but I get it.” Ino crossed her arms, scowling as she remembered this morning. Sasuke had walked past the throngs without so much as looking at them. “But he doesn’t care! And no one is bothered by this.”

 “You are,” Sakura replied absentmindedly, flipping through her science textbook as she listened.

 “No one else is bothered by it,” Ino amended grumpily. “He doesn’t put in any effort and they all just eat out of his hands.”

 “They eat out of your hands too,” Sakura reminded.

 “Not as much they eat out of his!” Ino crossed her arms. “I mean, I get it. He’s hot. He’s smart. He’s a jock. He’s a freakin’ triple threat. But doesn’t anyone care about how he acts?”

 Sakura flipped another page, her response automatic. “I don’t know, he doesn’t seem that bad.”

 “No one looks at me when he’s around.” Ino glared up at Sakura. When her friend just scanned the page, she reached up and tugged her soft pink hair. “You’re not even looking at me now.”

 Sighing, Sakura put down her book. “There. Happy? I’m looking at you now. Why do you even care so much about how popular Sasuke is? You’re still top in the school.”

 “I’m second!” Ino hissed.

 Sakura raised a brow, bemused. “That’s still really popular.”

 “I know you’re a nerd and think you’re above all this,” Ino growled, “But you’re second smartest to Shikamaru and you bitch about that all the time.”

 Immediately, Sakura stiffened. “That’s different!” She scowled, pouting childishly as she thought of their classmate. “He doesn’t even study and he gets perfect grades. I don’t think he even knows what we do in class.”

 “Well, it’s the same thing here!” Ino retorted. “I bet Sasuke doesn’t even have a skincare routine! And he’s so goddamn gruff and abrasive and everyone still likes him.”

 Calming down, Sakura smirked and leaned forward. “You used to.”

 “That was before he stole my position,” Ino grumbled. Suspicious, she squinted up at her best friend. “You still like him.”

 Sakura flushed, her face matching her hair. “Okay, but in my defense, he is really hot.”

 “That’s why you don’t care, you’re on his side!” Ino poked Sakura’s stomach. “Traitor.”

 “Bitch, you used to oogle him with me.” Sakura swatted Ino’s hand away, shaking her head. “Honestly, if anyone saw the real you…”

 “Well, that’s why we eat alone.” The bell rang and Ino sighed, getting up. “We’re going to crush him.”

 Sakura picked up her bento and wiped her skirt as she stood. “We’re?”

 “We’re,” Ino repeated firmly, smirking. “You’re smart, think of something.”

 -x-

 If Ino really wanted to, she could have been the student president. It was a popularity contest, no matter what anyone else said, and it would have been a cinch for her to win it and take the top spot. It was also entirely too much work for her and she was more than fine with letting other people handle the menial tasks while helping out with some of the more visible promotions.

 Actually, she would have been vice president if Sasuke had applied.

 She could feel her brow furrow at the thought and she forced herself to smile. Frowns made wrinkles and she refused to sabotage her skin regime because of that douche. Even worse, she was standing in the school foyer, handing out flyers for the school festival—she couldn’t let her adoring fans see her as anything but their bubbly idol.

 “The school festival’s in a month!” she called out, forcing a cheeriness in her voice. Recognizing a brunette passing by—Tenten, from her math class—she pressed a flyer in her hands. “You should sign up.”

 “Huh?” Tenten looked at her quizzically, then at the flyer. She grimaced. “You know I can’t dance, right?”

 “That’s fine! There’s other things to do.” Ino grinned, slipping into a martial arts stance. “I hear you’re pretty good at fighting.”

 “More than good,” Tenten corrected with a wolfish smile.

 “Well, we’re thinking of having a martial arts demonstration, and it’d be great to have someone who really knows what they’re doing.” Ino tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and sighed. “But if you can’t, we’ll just have to find someone else…maybe Neji…”

 Tenten bristled immediately. Good. It seemed that the rumours were true—she couldn’t handle being second to Neji. “It’s fine. I can do it.”

 “Great! Thanks!” Ino internally pumped her fist. Now all she had to do was lure Rock Lee in by using Sakura as bait, and they were all set. As she watched Tenten leave, she heard a set of footsteps behind her. “Hi! The cultural festival is looking for…volunteers…”

 She trailed off as she stared at Sasuke. Judging by the gym bag slung around his shoulders, he must have been heading to basketball practice. A small part of her had to begrudgingly admit that he at least worked at keeping his body in shape; there was a reason girls tried to sneak into the gym when he trained.

 Ino had seen his abs in person a few times and well…if he hadn’t been her (self-appointed) rival, she’d be all over him. He raised a brow as he looked at her impassively and Ino flushed. She’d been staring.

 Stupid.

 “Yeah, uh…volunteers.” Gathering her wits, she pressed the flyer on his chest. If she was lucky, he’d treat this like he treated everything else: dismissively. Maybe he’d even forget that she’d been staring or just shrug it off. “If you have the free time.”

 “I don’t,” he replied bluntly, though he did take the flyer. She tried not to shiver when his hand brushed hers.

 “Oh, that’s too bad.” He was far too close, but she couldn’t take a step back. It’d be showing weakness. “I guess you’re too busy with the team.”

 “Yeah.” Oddly, he didn’t leave. Instead, he lazily scanned the paper. “You’re on this too?”

 Ino blinked. She hadn’t thought she’d even registered on his radar; he showed almost no interest in anyone outside of his teammates. “Uh, yeah. Just helping out a bit.”

 “Cool.” Sasuke looked at her now, and she fought back her blush. His stare was even more intense this close. “You shouldn’t.”

 It was like a bucket of cold water washed over her. Unable to stop herself, she glared at him. “Why?”

 Sasuke shrugged dropping the pamphlet on the ground. “It won’t work.”

 Despite the angry flooding through her, she fought back the urge to yell at him. People were watching. She was in the middle of the school. He was not going to best her. Forcing her smile back, she asked, “Why? You think I won’t do a good job?”

 Okay, maybe she hissed more than asked, but at least her voice was low enough that no one else could have heard.

 Sasuke raised a brow, clearly not expecting this reaction. Maybe everyone else took his insults without arguing, but Ino refused to. “You’d do a good job.”

 “What?” Ino resisted the urge to tear out her hair. What was with this contradictory bastard? “Then why shouldn’t I do it?”

 “You have even less time than me.” Sasuke shrugged. Clearly done with the conversation, he side-stepped her and continued down the hall.

 Ready for an argument, Ino dug her heels, opened her mouth, and—

 “Huh?”

 He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You’re overworking yourself.”

 “Huh?”

 -x-

 For once, Sakura didn’t read her textbook, do her homework, or anything else really as she listened. Instead, she thoughtfully tapped her chin with her pencil. “That’s good, right?”

 Ino shot her an incredulous look. “I thought you were listening. How is that good?”

 “Well,” Sakura slung an arm around Ino’s shoulder with a shit-eating grin, “That means he’s been paying attention to you, right? He couldn’t have known how much you do otherwise.”

 She couldn’t argue with that. Reluctantly, she nodded. “Yeah…but how is that good?”

 “He’s looking at you.” When Ino stared at her blankly, Sakura groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “I swear to god you are so dense sometimes. Isn’t half the reason you keep bitching about him because he didn’t know you existed? Well, he clearly does know.”

 Ino’s jaw dropped. Hackles raised, she punched Sakura in the arm. “What are you talking about? And here I thought you were smart.”

 “Nah, you’re just dumb.” Sakura snorted, rubbing her arm. “I don’t get why you’re complaining. He’s right, you know. You’re in waaaay too many things. You’re going to burn out.”

 “You’re just taking his side cause you like him,” Ino growled, crossing her arms and looking away in a huff. And here she thought she could rely on her best friend. Clearly not.

 “Ino.” Sakura rolled her eyes and got up. “I’m going to toss my trash…just think about it, okay?”

 Ino grunted undignifiedly, refusing to look as Sakura left the greenhouse. She should have expected this, really. Sasuke was a triple threat after all. Even Sakura wasn’t immune to his charms. No one in the school was, really, which was why she had this problem in the first place.

 So what if Sasuke had been a little concerned? Was that even concern? The entire conversation had been confusing and infuriating as hell—did he even know how to speak properly? All it had proved was that she’d been right.

 Sasuke clearly had to get knocked down from the most popular position. Maybe then he’d learn how to talk to people properly. At the very least, she’d be able to oogle him in peace. Hearing footsteps, she stubbornly looked away as Sakura returned. “I’ll forgive you if you come up with a plan to take him down.”

 Sakura didn’t respond.

 Apparently Sakura was just as mule-headed as she was. Ino frowned. “Come on, it’s not that hard. You know Naruto, right? Just use him to get some of Sasuke’s weaknesses and I’ll figure out the rest.”

 Still, Sakura didn’t respond.

 “What, are you angry?” Ino rolled her eyes, turning around. “It’s not like—”

 Sasuke stood behind her, his expression unreadable. In the distance, Ino spotted a panicked Sakura poking her head in through the door.

 How this happened, Ino had no idea.

 “How long were you here?” Ino asked weakly.

  “Long enough.” Even his tone didn’t give anything away.

 Shit. Ino felt the blood drain form her face. Shit shit shit. There was no way she could wiggle her way out of this one. “…what’re you going to do about that.”

 He didn’t reply, only smirked, and she shivered.

 Silently, she prayed that they got struck by a meteor. The end of the world didn’t sound half to so bad compared to whatever he had in store.

#naruto #sasuino #sasuke uchiha #ino yamanaka #inosasu #sakura haruno #fanfic #narutosecretsanta2020 #ns2020

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Migraine

Call It What You Want (6/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x Reader

A/N: OH MAI GAWD we’re finally getting somewhere with the plot can you believe???I apologize for the slowest of slowburns ever also I rlly am sorry for hurting Poe like this but im not done yet oops

Chapter Summary: Bby isn’t feeling so good :(

Warnings: swearing, fluff (finally), then angst immediately after oops

Word count: 1.7k

Poe walks into the living room as Finn and Rey watch him drag his feet, dropping face-first onto the couch. 

“Did you do it?” Rey asks. Poe nods his head, his face still pressed into the cushion.

“Do what?” Finn asks.

“You didn’t tell him?” Rey questions Poe.

“Nope,” he says, voice muffled.

“Tell me what?” Finn asks again, getting confused.

“How did it go?” Rey completely ignores her boyfriend, too invested in the news Poe was about to divulge. 

“Excuse me! How did what go? What did y’all do?” Finn was getting worked up at how they were ignoring him.

Poe props himself up on his elbows. “Didn’t make a scene because, guess what? She’s already seeing someone,” 

“What the hell, man!” Rey exclaims, further confusing Finn. He was so close to shaking one of them by the shoulders demanding answers.

Poe continues unfazed by Finn glaring daggers at the two of them. “Didn’t even have the decency to end it with me first,”

“Did you break up with Sarah?” Finn exclaims, finally catching on. Poe nods. “Oh finally,” When two sets of eyes fix on him, glaring, he clears his throat and says, “I mean, oh shit, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Poe whines, dropping his head back onto the cushion. A part of him had hoped he would feel better after breaking up with Sarah, but it only left him feeling more down than anything. He should’ve just listened to Finn and ended it before it got so out of hand. Well, at least he has one less thing to worry about now.

—-

Poe groans when hears a soft knock from his bedroom door. He thought Rey and Finn had already left for the dental appointment. But then, when did they ever knock before barging into his room? 

Poe had assured Rey that he’d be fine when she asked before leaving, but the migraine was really kicking his ass. He couldn’t even stand without feeling like he was going to fall over or throw up, he tried to sleep but the pain didn’t let him. So he there he was, sprawled across the bed on his stomach buried under the covers.

“The door’s open,” he grumbles and the door opens. He lifts his head from the mattress, watching you walk in. Suddenly, Poe becomes very aware of how his unruly curls stick out in every direction and how he looks like he hasn’t slept in days because he hasn’t. He blinks, wondering if he was hallucinating all of a sudden.

“Hey, Poe,” you greet him watching him squint back at you, blinking blearily. The curtains are wide open, sunlight shining straight into his eyes. You walk over to the window and draw them close.

“Thanks,” he gives you a shy smile, finally snapping out of the daze. “What are doing here?”

“Oh, Rey called. She said you weren’t feeling so well and that she and Finn won’t be around for a little while. So I volunteered to babysit,” You smile at him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Poe replies, not even acting like he was offended that you called it babysitting, too busy trying to suppress the giddy smile growing on his face. You care about him.

“No offence Poe, but you really don’t look like you’re doing great,” You did have a point.

Poe dramatically flops back onto the mattress, groaning. “I feel horrible,”

He hears you chuckle at his antics, striding closer to him. You kneel by the bed and he adjusts his head to get a better look at you. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Nope, I feel nauseous,” He presses his face back into the sheets. 

“Can I get you something? Maybe soup? It’s a little more light,” You suggest.

“Okay,“ the smile fully stretched across his face. The migraine didn’t seem to bad all of a sudden.

---

You’re back at the dining table, the same spot you took the first time you stayed over at the apartment. Laptop open before you, skimming through the lecture contents. 

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Poe when Rey had called you asking if you could keep an eye on him for her. Rey was bringing Finn along to her dental appointment, way too scared to go on her own. It wasn’t like Poe couldn’t take care of himself, but she felt bad leaving him alone anyways.

You had a lecture at that time but fortunately one of your classmates were willing to share notes so you thought it wouldn’t be too bad if you missed just one lecture. You didn’t tell any of trio, knowing how they’d hate to be the reason you miss out on your class.

Poe was asleep in his room upstairs. The soup you gave seemed to be doing fine with his stomach, thankfully. Rey had called to tell you that they were taking more time than expected at the clinic. You had no problems with staying a little longer.

You hear the door swing open upstairs and Poe emerges in the kitchen a few moments later. “Feeling better?” you ask him.

“Yep, much better, thanks to you.” Thankfully, he turns away as he fills a cup with water because you definitely don’t want him to see how your face briefly warms up at the compliment.

Poe joins you at the table, and you can’t help but think of the previous time you were in that position. You weren’t unaware that spending more time with him was only going to make things worse for you. If you had any sense of self-preservation you would’ve made yourself scarce around him. You did try after new years eve. It still escaped you how Poe managed to befriend you so quickly while you took forever with anyone else. You just felt drawn to him.

Poe quietly sips on his water, unaware of your inner turmoil as you blankly stared at the screen. You know you’re only going to fall harder and end up hurting yourself. You really should try harder to distance yourself from him.

---

“I used to have a massive crush on Finn back in middle school,” Poe confesses. You and Poe lay under the throw blanket on the couch, reruns of some old show playing on the TV, but neither of you are watching it. Poe suggested a game, 21 questions, claiming he was bored and it was the only thing that could entertain him. So much for distancing yourself.

The questions started out innocent, plain boring, like what’s your favourite colour? then quickly escalating to at what age did you loose your virginity? Before you know, your laughing with him on the couch clutching you half-empty mug, Poe’s empty on laying in the coffee table.

“What?” The way your eyes widen comically draws a laugh from Poe. “Does Finn know?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone knew, I wasn’t exactly subtle. Its embarrassing,” That triggers more laughter from you. “In my defense, everyone had a crush on Finn at one point,” Poe watches you laugh at his expense, smiling brighter, feeling lighter than he had for months. He would recount every single one of his embarrassing childhood memories if it got you laughing like that. He’s in so much trouble. “Okay, your turn,”

An embarrassing childhood memory. You have a plethora of those. You sip your coffee pondering, which one to share? Placing your mug on the coffee table, you lean back into the couch and Poe rests his head on your shoulder. The silence stretches as you remain like that for a few more serene moments, game forgotten, only the sounds of the characters on screen punctuating the otherwise peaceful night. 

You turn when you hear Poe whisper your name, your eyes lock on his and you can’t seem to look away. He holds your gaze as he looks up at you, making you feel so exposed with those big brown eyes you never knew could be so piercing. He looks like he’s about to say something, then decides against it.

Instead, he tilts his head up, brushing his lips against yours, breath fanning your cheeks as he ventures further when you don’t pull away. His hands cradle your jaw, touch light like feather on your skin. Your eyelids flutter as his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

You’re kissing him before you mind catches up with your actions. His tongue brushes over your bottom lips then against your own, wet and warm, tasting sweet like the coffee he had, black, with three sugars.

An arm winds around your waist, pulling you into his chest and you follow blindly. The warmth emanating from his chest and feeling of his heart thundering beneath your palms. You could loose yourself in it. In him.

Almost just as soon as you had him, you’re ripped away from him when the sound of a key turning in the front door lock jolts the two of you apart. “We’re home!” Rey sings as she and Finn walk through the door.

Oh fuck. What did you just do?

You scramble up from the couch, quickly making up a shoddy excuse before throwing yourself out the front door, your belongings haphazardly gathered up in your arms, leaving all three of your friends stunned in your wake.

---

“Damn, Poe. What did you do?” Finn asks closing the door after you.

The way you were kissing him one moment and then suddenly disappearing the next almost gave Poe whiplash. “Huh? Why do you think I did something?” Both Finn and Rey gave him a look full of disbelief. “We might have kissed,” he utters the last word like a whisper. “And she just ran out like that,” he says flailing his arms in the direction you disappeared in. Did he go too far? You wouldn’t have kissed him back if you didn’t want to, right? Fuck, what did he do wrong?

“Did you tell her you broke up with Sarah?” Rey asks him. Always hitting the nail right on the head.  

“Oh, oh no,” he didn’t, it never came up and he didn’t even think of it. 

“You fucked up, son,” Finn interjects, grimacing like he was feeling second hand embarrassment from the whole situation.

“You didn’t tell her by any chance?” Poe asks, turning to Rey. 

“Why would I tell her? Do you think we got nothing better to do than sit around gossiping about friends?”

“I’m an idiot,” Poe says, more to himself to anyone else.

“The migraine sure messed with your mind,” Finn chuckles.

---

The Dameron Taglist (open):

@writefightandflightclub​ @arkofblake​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @multifandomlife22​ @skymerons​ @smol-peter-parker​ @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal

#poe dameron au #poe x reader #poe dameron #poe fluff #poe fanfiction #sw fanfic #sw au

[sourbat]

“do you want me to give you advice or do you just want me to listen?” magtok or ship if your choice

This got a little self-indulgent. 

and yes, it’s magtok

After their shared meeting, the psychiatrist requested that Toki leave, and Magnus stay behind for a little while longer. Neither had any reason to believe the news was bad, but when Magnus does leave the small office some five minutes later, looking a little worse for wear, Toki assumes some misgiving had occurred. Bad news? Failure to meet certain goal posts?  An increase in dosage?

After a few handshakes, the required talks with the nurse scheduling the next appointment, it’s a quiet ride down the elevator, with Magnus reading the overview of his meeting in absolute silence. Toki clicks his tongue against his teeth, testing the tone and Magnus’ overall mood. The older man never voices a single complaint the ride down, and continues keeping to himself the walk to the car.

Toki refuses for the ride home to be silent, and immediately snuffs any chance of Magnus spending the next several minutes driving and moping in silence. The keys go into the ignition, and Toki stops him and asks if there is anything he can do to help Magnus. He makes sure not to guess the source of the problem, point a finger or ask any additional questions.

The question hangs above their heads. Toki waits for Magnus’ response, mentally preparing himself for the worse, only to have Magnus drop the keys he had readied for the ignition, and quietly announces that his psychiatrist wants him to consider dropping the mood suppressants.

“She wants you off the suppresscants?” Toki says aloud, taking in the news one word at a time. He falls into the passenger seat, eyes agape and staring out towards the parking lot.

“Yeah.” Magnus squeezes the keys in his hand. “Since my dosage is already so low, she wants me to–”    

“Oh, Magnus, this ams such great news!” Toki reaches over to Magnus’ side, pulling him into an awkward, but loving embrace. He rubs his face against a tuft of brown waves, smiling at the tickle.

Toki waited for this day. Magnus worked so hard trying to get better. They’d been to so many sessions. Even on the best of days, Toki knows Magnus didn’t look forward to the trips. He could be in a good mood going in, but the sessions always prove to be stressful, cathartic to the point of it being emotionally overwhelming at times. It isn’t easy.

Manus wriggles underneath him. “You’re really excited about this?”

“Yeps!” Toki happily announces. “You gets to get offs another medicines!”

Satisfied, Toki relinquishes his hold on Magnus and drops back to his seat, but not before picking up the stapled, folded sheets detailing the information of their recent visit. He flips through the pages, stopping at the second to the last where he reads the summary and doctor’s suggestion. There it is, clear as day. The good news. Drop the suppressants to see if Magnus can rely solely on learned techniques and his own hindsight to keep himself in check. It’s real. This is real. It has been such a long time coming, but it’s finally here.

And isn't this one of the pills Magnus couldn’t mix with alcohol? Toki’s eyes glisten with excitement and possibilities. He thinks of the new and old activities he can reintroduce to Magnus, once he is clear, cleansed of this old prescription and off the blasted pills. They can go out and drink more, and Magnus can get drunk again! Maybe Magnus can take other things, too, and Toki wouldn’t have to worry about it getting in the way of decision making, Magnus making rash decisions, or Magnus going from one extreme to the-

Toki notices how quiet it’s gotten, and when he turns and checks on Magnus, sees that he is still fiddling with the keys. His eyes shift between the collective sheets in Toki’s hands, and the many keys and chains he entangles with his busy hands.

“Ims there something wrongs?” Toki asks, not quite catching on to Magnus’ silence. 

A frown. “Nothing,” he answers, still eyeing the keys. “Just…didn’t think you’d get so excited.”

Toki folds the sheets messily on top one another. ���You ams getting off the medicaskons. Beens a long times since that happens.”

It’s been over a year since dropping another medication. Toki remembers it clear as day. Like now, Toki had been just as excited, but so had Magnus. They’d both been so relieved to know there was one less thing holding Magnus together.

Why isn’t Magnus happy right now?

Toki’s hand crushes the sheets. “Magnus?”

Magnus grips the wheel. “Toki, I don’t think I–”

The leather groans under his hold. Toki grits his teeth against the sound. A nasty weight piles in his stomach the second Magnus tears away from the window to meet him.

His stare lets Toki know it’s dread.

“I don’t think I want to get off the suppressants,” Magnus announces, voice unwavering, but it’s clear he’s upset. Toki can hear the sharp cadence, the hidden snap that was already gathering on the defense.  “I… don’t want to stop taking them.”

Toki’s silent. He stares at Magnus, watches his expression turn from nervous to dejected at what Toki assumes is his own disappointed expression. Toki can feel it reach into every fiber of his being. The shock. The sudden turn of events. He must look so surprised, he thinks, but can’t bring himself to check in the mirror. He can’t even get himself to look away from Magnus who keeps eyeing him, waiting for a change, a smile, a supportive line. Anything.

Toki’s head fills with questions. He tries reaching for one, the most obvious “but why nots,” but as he parts his lips, Magnus jerks in seat.

“Like, I know you’re really excited” he says, voice picking up volume and a distinct uncontrolled shakiness. Magnus smiles when he says it, too, though Toki can detect its inauthenticity the second Magnus tries offering it to him. “I was, too. But then she kept talking about the cleansing period, and the initial swings, and I don’t know, man.”

Magnus hands leave the wheel and start swinging, moving with frantic words and expressions that carve deep into Toki. He sees Magnus shake, go pale as he fights to defend a decision Toki cannot comprehend. The fake smile leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“I know it’s been a while, and I know I see it all through black and white, but I don’t want to say or do anything like I remember,” Magnus says through the silent strain. Toki blinks, witnessing past acts of blind or misdirected rage. He sees Magnus hiding under the covers for days, only leaving to use the restroom or rehydrate. He watches Magnus right now, shaking his head at himself, disbelieving his own strength. “I don’t want to snap at people. I don’t want to feel like I’m choking on my own thoughts.”

There’s anger sitting at the edge of every word. Toki hears it lingering, feels its weight settle around him, but never aimed directly at him.

Magnus coughs false laughter. “Am I overreacting? You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?” He points a finger at himself.  “I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I’m being stupid, making this more than what it has to be…”

He falls into his seat, hands dragging across his face. Fingers get caught in his hair, curl and writhe and purposely get tangled. Toki stops it with a hand resting on top of Magnus' leg. The simple gesture is enough for Magnus to fix himself up, though avoids looking in Toki’s direction until he’s able to tolerate his own reflection in the rearview. 

“I’m over-fucking-thinking it, again.” He sighs. Toki squeezes Magnus’ thigh, calling for his attention. It takes a few seconds for Magnus to relax, for shoulder ease into place and frown shift into a defeated grin, before he finally secedes. He stares solemnly at Toki. “I need to stop doing that. I really should’ve just asked you from the start, huh?”

The hand shifts from the thigh to Magnus’ hand. 

Toki peers close. “Do you wants me to gives you advice or does you just wants me to listen?” 

There’s a pin that burrows into his chest when he utters it, because he knows it’s far from what he wants to tell Magnus. But it’s what the man needs to hear, and once it's out there, Toki sees Magnus’ chest heave, and eyes go dark before being covered with his sleeve.

“…I don’t want to be angry all the time,” Magnus confesses. The answer doesn’t immediately surprise Toki, but the fear riddled in Magnus’ eyes, the dread in his voice keeps Toki alert and listening. “I don’t want to feel like I need to look over my shoulder. I don’t want to hurt you. I know you think I won’t, but I can’t shake this feeling I’ll do something awful if I don’t keep myself in check. I know you trust me, but I don’t know if I’m quite there yet, with you. You trust me, but… I’ve done it to you on meds, and now she wants me off of them? What if say something I can’t take back?” 

The pin pushes further inward. It hurts because all Toki can hear is how much Magnus thinks about him, how considerate he’s trying to be. It’s so sweet. How nice of him, but he was being so mean to himself in the process. That also hurt, because Toki knows Magnus is better than he thinks. He’s stronger than he gives himself credit for. And it hurts the most because it means the day hasn’t yet arrived, and Toki is going to have to wait a little longer for it to come.

“Okays.”

“What?” 

Toki pulls in his lips, fighting past a sigh as he fishes for the right words. They come sooner than predicted, and with them, a gentle warmth. Acceptance. “If you don’t think you ams ready, then you ams not ready. I trusts you. And when you ams, we can celebrates then, okays?”

There’s a smile near the end, and when it forms, the pain lessens. Toki feels it spread across his face, and with it the sense that he still needs to reel Magnus back to him. 

He goes for the shoulder. “You okays?”

A despondent frown. “You’re not upset?”

There’s no point in lying to Magnus, not after being so blatantly disappointed after hearing the news. He can handle the truth, Toki thinks, and the more he dwells on it, the more Toki realizes it’s better they both hear.

“I knows I was exciteds about you drinkins and havins fun with me, but we does that anyways,” Toki starts cautiously, and watches as Magnus gives a short, but confirming nod. He tucks his hands between his legs. “And you said you don’t trusts yourskelves, so…Toki will just have to works on that. Helps out my bestest friend believes in himself more.”

He looks up hopefully at Magnus. Toki unbuckles his seatbelt, leaves his seat and takes Magnus into an embrace.

“This ams your therapy,” he says, and feels Magnus’ arms fold around him. “You gets to decides when you ams ready, not me.”

Magnus shuts his eyes. A sharp intake of breath. “Thank you.”

The words hit just right, because once Toki hears it, the pain starts to vanish. They remain that way for some time, with Magnus selfishly pulling Toki as close as their limited space will allow, and Toki listening in on the occasional sniff, the skip of a rapid heartbeat desperately working to convince itself this wasn’t a failure, but something else.

Eventually, the discomfort of his potion forces Toki to part with Magnus sooner than preferred. He catches a relieved sigh once he does, but notices Magnus wiping his face once he does return to his seat. The man hasn’t quite recovered yet.

Toki spots the keys resting between Magnus’ legs. He swallows.

“Wants me to drive?”

Eyes still closed, Magnus stubbornly shakes his head. “You hate driving.”

Toki openly challenges the remark with a slight drop of his voice. “Do you wants me to drive us homes?” 

The steering wheel groans, and Magnus’s head sinks against the growing silence. 

Eyes open, and tears fall. “Yeah…”

Smiling, Toki reaches for the keys.

#wxcked-fc #thank you #fic ask thing #magtok #hammertooth

[livesincerely]

it’s so easy (too easy) to love you, ch. 1

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey’s just gotten out of class—literally just walked out the door—when his phone starts ringing.

“Davey,” Tony says the moment he answers, not even giving Davey time to say hello, “can you swing by the apartment real quick?”

Davey sighs. “Are you locked out of the house again?”

There’s a guilty silence. Then, “Or maybe I just wanna see you, huh? You don’t know.”

“Tony.”

“Charlie’s the one that lost the spare,” Tony capitulates immediately, there’s an indignant “Hey!” somewhere in the background, “and I left my keys in my locker ‘cause I thought Charlie had his—”

There’s a scuffle of noise, then Charlie’s voice breaks in, “—don’t listen to him Davey, I asked him before we even got on the subway if he had his keys and he said he did but he didn’t even check—”

“—well, I thought you had yours, didn’t I?—”

“—and he was twenty minutes late picking me up from band practice because he was too busy making out with Spot Conlon to come help me carry my stuff—”

“—that was supposed to be a secret you little shit!”

“—you started it!”

Davey pulls the phone away from his ear as the other side of the line descends into a mess of indistinct yelling. He thinks about trying to get their attention, but he decides to just start heading towards the apartment, muting his side of the call while he waits them out—they’ll remember him eventually.

In the meantime, Davey sends a quick text:

Tony and Charlie locked themselves out of the house again

He’s not expecting a response, but Jack must be in-between projects because he gets one almost immediately.

jc again?

And you’re going to have to get a new spare made

fuck okay i’ll take care of it. are you heading over?

I’m walking there now

ur the light of my life dave

Davey can’t help but smile at this, a soft feeling fluttering in his chest. Before he can write back, Jack sends another text:

how did ur midterm go?

I feel good about it! Def did better than I thought it would!

duh youve been living in the library all week ofc ur gonna do great. ill swing by the grocery omw home and pick up some ice cream to celebrate. do we need anything else while im there?

Get a bell pepper and some tomato paste, I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. And we need more laundry detergent.

fuck yes im starving! can we do garlic bread too?

Come home on time and we’ll see.

u drive a hard bargain. kerian owes me a favor so he can stay late tonight lol

“Davey?” The sound of Charlie’s voice, tinny and muffled, prompts Davey to lift his phone back to his ear; it seems like he might’ve been calling Davey’s name for a while. “Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” Davey confirms.

“So are ya comin’ or what?” Tony cuts in, ever impatient. “I’m roasting out here!”

“Well, I was thinking about leaving you to ruminate on your poor life choices,” Davey responds dryly, “but I guess I can come let you in, since you asked so nicely.”

“Thanks, Davey,” Charlie says.

“I’ll be there soon,” Davey confirms.

“Hurry, will ya? Much longer and I’m gonna get heatstroke and die,” Tony declares.

Davey rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Tony.”

00000

When he arrives at Jack’s building some twenty minutes later, Davey finds Tony and Charlie right where he expects them: crowded together in the little bit of shade the roof’s overhang offers, wearing identical grumpy expressions that brighten immediately when they spot him approaching.

"Finally!" Tony exclaims, shooting to his feet. "What took you so long?"

“Stop losing your keys and you won’t have to wait for me,” Davey counters, slotting his key into the deadbolt and hefting open the heavy exterior door. He props it open with his hip and lets Tony and Charlie scurry past him into the AC. “You couldn’t get anyone to buzz you in?”

“Old Man Davis hasn’t gotten his hearing aid replaced yet,” Charlie explains as they climb the stairs up to the second floor, “and Mrs. Ikeda isn’t home.”

“She joined a new book club,” Tony adds. “She won’t be back till late.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask her about it when I see her next,” Davey muses.

He gets the apartment door unlocked and the boys pile inside, tossing their backpacks down with dramatic groans of relief.  Charlie makes a beeline for his bedroom; Davey expects Tony to do the same but he takes a seat at the kitchen table instead, booting up his laptop with a couple of keystrokes.

“I’ve got a paper due in English tomorrow,” Tony explains. “Can you look it over once it’s finished? Maybe later this evening”

“Of course,” Davey replies. “What’s it on?”

“Lord of the Flies.”

Davey’s nose wrinkles up. “Oh, I hated that one. What’s the essay prompt?”

“Identify Golding’s argument about human nature as proposed in Lord of the Flies,” Tony reads off the top of the assignment outline. “Then make an argument agreeing or disagreeing with his assessment, using evidence from the text.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Good to see that high school literature classes haven’t changed much in the last few years,” he says with a sigh. “How much have you written so far?”

“Oh, I haven’t even started it yet,” Tony casually rebuts.

“Is everything going okay?” Davey asks, frowning slightly. “If things are getting worse we can make an appointment—”

But Tony waives his concerns aside. “Nah, this is regular old procrastination, not ADHD procrastination. Like ya said, Lord of the Flies sucks ass, so I just didn’t want to write it.”

“Well, let one of us know if you start having trouble,” Davey says.

"Okay, mom,” Tony agrees, somewhat distracted. He’s already got a blank document pulled up on his laptop, a battered and thoroughly dog-eared copy of the book laying open beside him.

Davey looks at him for another moment, then he shrugs and continues making his way into the kitchen—he figures there’s no need to worry unless Racer starts actually missing assignments. And he’s right: Lord of the Flies does suck ass.

By the time Jack gets home they’re each fully entrenched in different activities: Davey’s washed a sink full of dishes and is working on drying the last few pieces of silverware, Tony is still posted up at the kitchen table, carefully hammering out a draft of his paper, and there are the familiar sounds of Charlie working through different musical scales on his oboe in the back bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jack calls jokingly as he enters. There’s a rustle of plastic and soft thunk of the front door closing behind him, then he comes around the corner into the dining room with an armful of groceries.

“Hey, Jack,” Davey greets absently. He starts rifling through the bags almost before Jack can finish putting them down. “Did you get the tomato—?”

“I got the tomato paste,” Jack says, kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the entryway with all the others, “and I picked up some more of that fancy coffee you like from the place around the corner, even though it’s expensive as all hell.”

“Don’t judge me,” Davey replies, gathering up an armful of vegetables and carrying them further into the kitchen. “You spend a semester grading 'Intro to Shakespeare' homework and tell me how much caffeine you consume.”

“I’m just saying, the rest of us schmucks drink regular coffee and do just fine,” Jack continues. “You can feed your crippling caffeine addiction just as well with Folgers and it’ll cut down on the grocery bill.”

“Watch it, Kelly,” Davey says, pointing a finger teasingly in Jack’s direction. “Smartasses don’t get dinner.”

“‘s that so?” Jack asks with a grin. “Then why the hell are we still feeding Tony?”

“I heard that,” Tony grumbles from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, you were supposed to,” Jack says, moving over to Tony and slinging an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. Tony bats at Jack’s hand but makes no real attempt to get away. Then Jack says, “So, I hear you and your brother lost another set of keys.”

Tony throws Davey a look of the deepest betrayal. “You told Jack?”

“Of course he did,” Jack says. “Someone’s gonna have to get new ones made, and it sure ain’t gonna be either half of the dynamic duo.”

“Charlie lost the spare,” Tony says, mercilessly throwing Charlie under the bus while he’s not in the room to defend himself. “And I didn’t lose my keys, I just left them in my locker.”

“Uh huh, save it for the judge,” Jack responds, ruffling Tony’s hair. “Just know if I end up having to change the deadbolt, it’s coming outta your subway money.”

“Jackie, leave Tony alone,” Davey comments mildly over Tony’s spluttering protests. “He needs to work on that paper and you’re distracting him.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Tony repeats, a little smug. “You’re distracting me.”

Davey turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Tony quickly busies himself with his homework.

Davey makes quick work of washing a green pepper and peeling an onion, then starts dicing both into small, neat pieces. He feels more than hears Jack sidle up behind him: the familiar weight of his gaze, the solid presence at his back. He stands there quietly, leaning against the counter-top and just watching Davey cook; unbothered, Davey leaves him be for the moment and moves to the stove, scraping the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into a pan to start softening.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Davey glances over his shoulder at Jack and says, “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me with this? You know there’s no loitering in my kitchen.”

“Well, I’m nothin’ if not a law abidin’ citizen,” Jack drawls in answer, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long, muscular line of his forearms, and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. “Where do you want me?”

Davey licks his lips. “Think you can handle browning the hamburger?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Jack responds with a smirk.

Davey steps out of the way, letting Jack take his place in front of the sauce pan while he gets a pot of water set up on a different burner, salting it so it boils faster. They settle into their familiar dinner-routine, moving around and past each other with ease as they work on getting everything ready, chattering idly all the while.

“I’ve gotta head back out this evening,” Jack says at one point, as he sets the tray of garlic bread in the oven to toast. “Johnson’s got me working a night shoot and I have to be downtown by 9.”

“How long is the session?” Davey asks. “Here, will you open this?”

“We’re scheduled for five hours, but we might get to wrap it up early if everything goes well.” Jack’s hand brushes against the small of Davey’s back and they trade places again, Davey stepping back up to the stove-top and Jack rifling around in one of the drawers for a can opener.

“Are ya spendin’ the night or are ya headin’ back to campus?”

“Depends on how much help Tony needs with his paper,” Davey replies, shaking his head. He takes the can when Jack hands it back to him and empties it into the saucepan, then gives the whole thing a good stir. “We might be at it a while.”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Well, if you do spend the night, go ahead and take the bed. The extra blankets are in the usual place.”

Davey sets down the spoon he’s holding, crossing his arms across his chest. “Jack,” he says warningly.

“Davey,” Jack echoes back in the exact same tone of voice. In the background there’s the faint sound of Tony muttering, “Jesus, not this again.”

“Jack, I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” Davey says, rehashing the same old argument for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m perfectly fine taking the couch.”

“Or you could do the smart thing and just take the bed,” Jack counters as he always does. “I’m not even gonna be here to use it.”

“You’ll want an actual mattress when you get home, especially if you’re out late.” Davey argues. “I don’t even have class tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t take the bed I’ll just carry you in there once I get back,” Jack says, as if that's a perfectly reasonable course of action. “So you might as well save me the trouble.”

Davey sputters. “That’s not— You can’t just— That only happened a couple of times!” he finally gets out.

"Well, actually, it's been more like four or five times," Jack says with a smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"

"That trick won't keep working," Davey grumbles, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.

“You sleep like a fucking rock, Dave,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it keep working?”

“No, see, that’s exactly why I should take the couch,” Davey insists. “It’s not like the sound of you coming in will wake me up—”

Jack turns to face him. Davey cuts off, slightly startled—he hadn’t realized they were standing so close to each other.

“Just take the bed, Davey,” Jack all but orders, and those dark eyes with that low voice are a heady combination. “Please?”

Davey bites at his lower lip, suddenly flustered. “Fine,” he reluctantly concedes, hoping Jack will attribute his flushed face to the heat of the kitchen. “Just this once.”

"Thank you," Jack says with a dramatic heave of his chest, looking much too pleased with himself. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're letting the garlic bread burn," Davey answers tartly.

"Oh shit—!"

00000

Later that evening, after they’ve all finished eating and have cleaned up, Davey, Tony, and Charlie are still gathered around the table, working on various assignments.

Davey is finishing the readings for his Monday lecture in between helping Tony finalize the exact wording of his essay. Charlie sits opposite him, working through his geometry homework and every so often there’s a huff of breath and the rubbery scratch of an eraser—Davey makes a mental note to swipe some more pencils and notebook paper from the grad lounge when he’s there next.

Davey notices the time and frowns. “Jack,” he calls out, “it’s already 7:30. If you don’t leave soon you’re gonna be late for work.”

There’s a clamor of noise from down the hall, then Jack appears, freshly showered and fumbling to put on his socks and button up a clean shirt at the same time.

“Fuck, Johnson is gonna kill me,” Jack grumbles. He pats down his pockets, then groans. “Christ, has anyone seen my—”

“Your wallet and keys are on the counter by the microwave,” Davey says, pointing. “And take a jacket, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Great, I’m sure the models will love that,” Jack says with a groan. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get through everything without getting rained out.”

He meanders his way over to the table, peering at Charlie’s homework from over his shoulder. “If Tony is still busy and ya get stuck, text me,” Jack tells him. “I probably won't be able to answer right away, but if ya send me a picture of the problem I can probably talk ya through it between shots.”

Charlie hums his acknowledgment, still scribbling furiously. Jack turns to Tony.

“Listen to whatever Davey tells you about your paper,” he advises. “The only reason I got through undergraduate writing was ‘cause Davey proofread all my shit before I turned it in.”

“I thought I was s’pposed to always listen to Davey,” Tony says distractedly, tongue poking out between his teeth as he types.

Jack pauses, considering. “Yeah, just do that.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, and Dave cooked, so you shitheads better do the dishes, get me?”

“Jack, you’re gonna be late,” Davey cuts in firmly, holding out Jack’s jacket for him.

“Alright, I’m going,” Jack says, shrugging it on, and he finally starts making moves towards the door.

He gives Charlie one last pat on the shoulder and cuffs Tony lightly across the back of the head in a slightly rougher, but no less affectionate goodbye, which is per usual. Then he turns to Davey, tips his chin up, and kisses him right on the mouth, short and sweet.

“Lock the door behind me and don’t forget to—” Jack stops mid-sentence, then turns bright red.

“Um,” says Charlie.

“Holy shit,” says Tony.

Jack’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Finally, he stammers out, “I u-uh— I-I d-didn’t mean—“

Davey doesn’t respond. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to—he’s frozen in place, his mind a sudden wash of static. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jack blurts, “gottagoseeyoulaterbye,” and bolts out the front door.

Davey’s not sure how long he stands there, staring blankly into space, utterly dumbfounded.

“Davey?” Charlie asks hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a strangled, choking noise. A split second later, Davey realizes it’s coming from him.

"...What just happened?"

#newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #*final cut #*the writing desk #*editor's note #the one where it's domestic #oof this was a long time coming #this au might become its own series #the javid coparenting vibes are REAL and i NEED them #btw there will be a couple more chapters of this so stay tuned

[brialavellan]

It has been 20 years since Inquisitor ‘Manehn Lavellan defeated Corypheus, and 18 years since the Exalted Council. Solas is furthering his plans and so far, all efforts to stop him seem to be in vain….until the Well of Sorrows begins to speak to ‘Manehn once more. Led by ancient magics and beset by enemies from Ferelden and Orlais to Antiva and Tevinter, ‘Manehn must gather allies old and new in a race against time to defeat Solas - at any cost.

(NOW ON AO3)

Chapter 1 ||  Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8  || Chapter 9  || Chapter 10 

CH 11: For the Love of the People

There were no screams.

No cries of warning.

The only sound they heard was the soft whoosh of arrows through open windows, connecting with the head of each victim, their jaws agape in shock as their limp bodies slumped over from their chairs and fell to the floor.

Four elves in black leather armor slung their bows on their backs and crept into the small red-brick house. Briala, in her russet-brown leather armor, weaved her way around the pools of blood and hunched under the table where their victims had been playing a game of cards. 

She got on her hands and knees and her eyes scanned the floors and baseboards for any breaks in the pattern, her fingers tapping the wood to feel for anomalies. She noticed a loose spot. She rapped on the wood and the wood echoed back. She pulled out her dagger, wedged it between the wooden boards, and pushed down hard. The wood snapped and revealed another cache filled with pieces of rolled parchment. She gently pulled the scraps of parchment from the small earthen hole and began to sift through each one while her agents meandered around her, checking all ingresses for suspicious intruders or curious visitors. The writing was nearly illegible on all of them but when you put them together, the meaning was clear. 

Charter’s codebreakers (with Briala’s assistance) had deciphered the old notes they found on the dead elves at the Divine’s Ascension celebration. The codes had changed since they found the notes on the dead elves, but not by enough. Using the cache of notes that Briala had found in Val Royeaux’s catacombs, Briala and Charter were able to deduce that Fen’harel’s agents used a form of alphabetic substitution, with multiple substitution alphabets. There was a pattern to the changes, a method to the madness. It had to be this way, so that lower level associates did not have to work as feverishly to memorize more alphabets. Keys had to be easily memorized. 

And Briala had the latest key.

She did not have to work very hard to translate what she had found. And what she read merely confirmed her suspicions.

They had planned to assassinate Duke Alfonse Blanchard, whose duchy encompassed Emprise de Leon and with whom Briala had a strong trade relationship.

And they had planned to assassinate him tonight. 

Had planned. 

Until plans changed.

“Duke Blanchard?” one of the elves, a young dark skinned woman with a small afro groaned. “The youngest brother, he is. Last one left. Worked for him as a bard. Paid well. Bit of a tit. But not murder-worthy. Why’d Fen’harel want ‘im dead?”

“Don’t know. Don’t believe in self-appointed gods anyway,” her sibling, a young man with cornrows, said. “Where was he at when Halamshiral burned down, eh? Seems like a god could’ve stopped that, after all.” He chuckled darkly.

“It’s a ploy to weaken the Dales,” Briala said. “Fen’harel’s agents claim to fight for the people but…” she paused, “I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but we didn’t earn what we have through open warfare.”

“It’s stupid to assasinate with stabbing. Too messy,” piped a pale, freckled agent with crimson hair, changing the subject. “And killing the kids too. Come on! That’s just over…well…overkill.” 

“So this it for today?” an older, ruddy-faced elven woman with salt-and-pepper curls asked. “Or we’ve got more? I know a Red Jenny in Val Royeaux who could take a peek’n’sneak. Maybe find a few to shoot if she’s not tripping up a nob or two.”

“No, that’s too dangerous,” Briala said. “The rest will go to ground but they weren’t as much of an immediate threat as the one here and the two in Halamshiral. We’ve saved the lives of three allies. We’ve saved the Dales for now. You all did good work here.” 

“‘Course we did,” the man in the cornrows said with a grin and earned a ribbing from his sister. 

She pointed to the siblings. “Adele, Alain, you’ll come back with me to Emprise du Lion.” she said. “We need to inform Duke Blanchard that we just saved his life.” 

She walked up to the other two and handed them each a small roll of parchment. “Crimson and Lily, you will both stay here until I give you more orders. Burn these after you read them. Make sure Fen’harel doesn’t send more agents.” 

She paused and took a hard look at the faces of her agents. 

“I know it just looks like he is merely trying to weaken my alliances. But he is destroying everything you all have built. We built a home in the Dales, where elves are treated as free men. Where we live on our terms, not as second class citizens, but as equal people, woven within the fabric of Orlais. They are our people, yes. I don’t wish to fight them, but they would destroy what we have crafted over twenty years for a foolish ill-conceived attempt at rebellion that will take as many elven lives as they claim to save. What we have is not perfect, but it’s ours. And I’ll defend what we have to the death.”

All four elves nodded at her words with solemn gratitude. Briala saw no hesitation, no twitch of an eye or biting of lips. They were loyal. So far. But being betrayed had burned her too much and she could not help but feel that she was missing something. Not a key or a code. Fabrication or not, the mystery of the freckled elven man still cast a shadow of doubt. 

“There’s no doubt here if you’re looking for it, Marquise,” Crimson said with a smile. “We’ll do what needs to be done. We know you will too.”

————————

The tavern was bustling, near bursting at the seams with the sound of drunken merriment. The type of desperate merriment when you have little to lose, and you lose, and you lose more. So you take what you can, and don’t dare hope for more. This was enough, for now. But Alienage streets still simmered with resentment across Orlais. The undercurrent still sullied the mood of the revelers just enough where they could be dangerous.

Katrina sat at the back of the tavern, tracing the rim of her mug of water. A young elven man with greasy blonde hair in pauper’s clothes approached and slipped her a coin, one that marked him as ally, and leader, of the Val Royeaux cell. All of Solas’s agents worked independently, but all knew Katrina. His lieutenant. His closest confidant (or as close of a confidant as Fen’harel kept). Her will was his. Her position, unassailable. Her dedication, unwavering. 

And all of his agents stood in awe before her.

The young man bowed deeply, almost touching his own feet. “Lieutenant, it is a great honor…”

“I don’t ask for honor,” Katrina chastised him. “And you shouldn’t grovel at my feet. You are elven. Have some pride.”

The young man straightened up and cracked his knuckles, “You’re right, of course, my apologies, Lady Katrina,” he said with a raspy Orlesian accent as he took a seat.

“Have you heard the news from Emprise du Leon and Halamshiral?”

“Just minutes ago,” he said, his croaky voice barely managing more than a whisper, “Claudette said there’s not a trace of them left. From any of them. Not even bodies. If that’s true then -”

Katrina stopped him, “They’re dead, Jacques. Briala found them out.”

“Briala…” his voice cracked with disgust. “She plays at revolution, but kills more elves than humans.”

“I remember,” Katrina said. She had told the Inquisition long ago. She warned them that the elf who fancied herself Ambassador was no more than Celene’s pet, barely above a bed warmer. In her eyes, Briala was just a high class courtesan. She would jump into the arms of anyone who could give her the power she grasped for.

“If she knows about them,” Jacques whispered, fidgeting in his seat, “then she knows about the rest of us. She can bring us all down. She -”

“Jacques, just change your codes and watch your backs,” she told him, exasperated, “this is just a minor setback. Nothing more, nothing less. They run around dousing small fires but don’t see the blazing inferno on the horizon. Our leader plays a longer game, beyond their understanding and even beyond ours. You must trust him as he trusts us.”

“Of course, of course, of course,” Jacques said, nodding as he spoke, more so as a prayer than a true affirmation. 

“Besides,” Katrina said with an icy smile. “Briala may have power and wealth. But we,” she gestured to the patrons in the crowded tavern. “We have the People.”

Katrina rose from the table and slipped her way through the throng of patrons towards the counter, hoisting herself on top of the counter-top despite the tavern keep’s feeble protest.

“Everyone listen up!” she yelled over the din of drunken patrons, “I want to make a toast to all of us!”

The patrons settled down for just a moment, just long enough to entertain whatever drunken rabble they expected. 

“For decades, centuries, millenia, we’ve been pushed around, right?” she started, “We’ve been beat down and told we’re less than nothing. We get treated like dirt, like dregs, by humans! All the damn time!”

The racket began to give way to confused murmuring. A heckler yelled at her to get to the fucking point already.

“But you know what? Humans don’t treat us like that because they hate us. They do it because they’re jealous of us. They do it because they are frightened by us!”

She continued, fire in her chest and her voice in a frenzy. 

“We conquered Thedas before they arrived! We rose with Shartan and Andraste and brought the Tevinter Imperium to its knees! Our people have defeated Blights! Our people healed the Breach!” 

The confused murmuring gave way to a chorus of righteous pride. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of taking shit! I’m tired of being treated like nothing! No, less than nothing! We are more than the humans could ever dream! And one day, we’re gonna show them!”

The righteous pride gave way to raucous cheering. Katrina raised a closed fist and the rest followed suit, a drunken crescendo singing a single verse.

The elvhen will rise again!

————————

“And here is the hero of our hour, Marquise Briala!” Duke Alfonse Blanchard called out as Briala walked through the stained glass doors of his summer chateau and rushed to greet her, taking her hand and leading her inside, her two agents following behind and giving each other an almost-amused look. “I could not have had a more stalwart ally in these troubled times. And your timing is most impeccable.“

He greeted her in a yellow plaidweave waistcoat with tails that almost touched the floor, burgundy heeled boots, and black breeches with a burgundy stripe down the sides, a style, Briala noted, two seasons out of fashion. She maintained her sweet smile despite her horror. With any other person, these crimes of fashion would be nigh unforgivable but he was so charming, so adept at the Grand Game, that one could almost forgive his gaudy tastes. Without his charm, he would have lost his lands and his head like both of his brothers, who were found to be conspiring with the Venatori twenty years prior. 

As the four made their way inside to the large marble-tiled and gilded-golden foyer, a group of lesser nobles crowded around them from a balcony that overlooked the foyer. He did make sure to address Briala, of course, but spoke mainly for the crowd.

“I have long supported the free reign of the Dales and through my connections, we have built a partnership built on equity and mutual trust. It is a triumph for us and for Orlais. May our partnership show a new path forward to all who would witness it. And may we celebrate with a toast!” 

He raised his crystal glass and drank deeply. The attendees clapped and drank as well as he finished his soliloquy. Briala noticed his northern partners did not clap as enthusiastically and took smaller sips of their toasts versus his smaller, southern supporters. 

Her coalition was holding fast, she noted, but it was still too small. The southern duchys noticed the sea change among the Council of Heralds. They knew as long as the Chantry stood behind their Herald of Andraste, the Herald stood behind Briala, and as long as Celene did not move against any of them that their ascension was assured. 

The northern neighbors were not pleased. As Briala was falling out of favor with Celene, her center of power around Val Royeaux and the North was growing increasingly hostile. They were her most ardent supporters in the Civil War. Besides outliers like Ghislain, she had almost no Northern support. 

If Celene was trying to undermine the Chantry, that could make some Northern allies rush to her side, since the Grand Enchanter had made sure the Council of Heralds was stacked with those most loyal to her. The Southern partners would then jump at the chance to undermine Celene further and expand their own influence. In that way, Celene was stuck, unable to act against Briala more forcefully. But as Natalie and her ilk sought to undermine the Chantry from within, then Celene’s power would grow. 

Enough to rid herself of the meddlesome marquise.

Briala milled around and mingled with the guests for a while, examining each gesture and every syllable spoken, building her list of allies and adversaries, those who she could count on and those she could not. Nobles might bend their knees as she greeted them, but every act was a performance on the world’s greatest stage. Her two agents followed, close enough to protect but far enough away to blend into the scenery, to note what she might miss. On this stage, elves were relegated to minor characters, but her agents, along with many other elves, used their invisibility to their advantage. 

Even allyship, now matter how publicly declared, was always conditional among the nobility. Like rats on a sinking ship, her allies would scatter at the first sign of trouble. Even Duke Blanchard’s words, no matter how grand, were empty platitudes even if he did feel personal gratitude.

The only true ally she had ever had, who gave her everything and expected nothing, was ‘Manehn.

“I hope you like hot weather,” the Duke said, beaming as he approached, “The Lady Montilyet has invited all her trading partners to a soiree. The Marquise de Serault, the Duke de Ghislain and several others will be there. I’ll make sure you have an invitation.” 

“I’m honored.” Briala said, just loud enough for her words to echo, “I did have an engagement with the Comtesse Cosette of Lydes, but I can postpone that for another date.”

She did not have an engagement with Comtesse Cosette of Lydes. This was a public, retaliatory snubbing, payback for her trying to entrap Briala into an inequitable trade deal six months before and for trying to poison her two fêtes ago. As Briala rose, her status would now fall. The two agents noted the Comtesse’s dismay and slightly smiled at her distress. Lydes might start to submit now, if only to save face. 

“And do bring the Herald, of course, would you?” the Duke added after a long pause to witness this spectacle. “She just insisted that the Herald come. And it would be quite splendid to have the Savior of Orlais in attendance, don’t you think?”

Briala nodded with a placid smile. “I do.”

————————

Under cover of a moonless night, ‘Manehn and Davhalla arrived back at the Cathedral, saddle-sore from four days of hard riding. They had traded 20 sovereigns for two riding horses in the nearest trade town outside the Brecilian Forest, and had nearly gotten themselves arrested because the local townspeople could not fathom two Dalish elves that could rub two coppers together, much less two Dalish elves with more money than most there saw in a month.

One of Briala’s people, a courier, met them at the gates with a missive and a somber glance.

“News from Kirkwall,” he said as he pressed the letter into ‘Manehn’s hand. She stared at him for several seconds, shaking the note at him, until he realized his error, took the missive back and broke the seal with both of his hands. 

“A riot,” he grimly read from the page, “in the Alienage. Troublemakers set fire. Lots dead, mostly elves. Definitely Fen’harel’s doing.”

‘Manehn’s veins turned to ice and her jaw tightened.

“Your daughter is safe,” he added, seeing ‘Manehn freeze, “She’s with our people. She’ll be back in three days. Four if the currents don’t agree.” 

‘Manehn breathed an audible sigh of relief as the courier departed. 

“I shouldn’t have kept her alone,” she said, shaking her head and rubbing her temple. “I shouldn’t have even taken her to Kirkwall. I don’t even know what I was thinking, getting her involved in this.”

“She’s nineteen now, ‘Manehn. You can’t keep her sheltered forever,” Davhalla said to her. “She’s learning under guidance, structure and without her risking her life unnecessarily.”

“I’ve done nothing but just put her in danger. Repeatedly. What would’ve happened if she couldn’t banish that demon or if Solas’s people had - ”

“She is a Dreamer. She is the daughter of one of the most influential and powerful elves in Orlais,” Davhalla said grimly. “She is always in danger. She needs to be given the tools to defend herself. She needs to learn how to fight, especially given her eagerness to do so.”

“She shouldn’t have to.”

“None of us should have to, but we do anyway, don’t we?” Davhalla said with a yawn and a stretch of her arms as she walked away towards the Apartments.

‘Manehn retired to her room, eager to sleep but equally eager to soothe her rattled nerves. She found two servants and had them draw a hot bath while she undid the straps down her arm and across her chest that latched her dagger to her stump and set it on her desk. As the servants heated the water, she lit a candle, grabbed a magnifying glass, and scanned every inch of her blade. The pins that kept it sheathed were wearing, she noted, and the blade was blunting. She would have Dagna take a look at it. 

Later. 

She would take care of everything later.

She was too tired for racing thoughts and insomnia tonight. Too tired to take the honey wine that she usually needed to put herself to sleep. If only she could pause time, she thought, then maybe she could know peace. Had it really been so long that a spectre did not shadow her? Whether it was the fate of her clan, her people, or all of Thedas, she did not remember a time where she did not carry a burden. Carrying that burden had weathered her as much, if not more, than the mere passage of time. 

She sent the servants away, slipped off her clothes and sunk the bath, savoring the slight sizzle on her skin from the hot water as the filth washed away. She slid further into the tub, propped up her feet and leaned her head slightly back  until her hair touched the water. If she slipped further down, she thought, if she submerged herself completely, could she stay there? Could she surrender what glimmer of life remained within her?

She pulled herself back up and shuddered as the cool air hit her skin. She would not succumb. 

She pulled herself out of her bath, grabbed a towel and headed to bed. She hoped that for this night, she would sleep well.

#briala #oc lavellan #dragon age fic #da fic #dragon age fanfic #fic by brialavellan

[cmncisspnandmore]

Boy wonder and Family: Prequel Part 2

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Child birth, fluff, cute stuff. 

A/N: This is the second part of the prequel! wooh! This is the last part before i start the rewrite. :) Enjoy, my taglists and requests are still open!

“Spencer? Have you seen my black pull over?” You ask as you walk into his living room, where hes enjoying a cup of coffee. 

“It was in the closet the last time I saw it. Why do you need it? Isn’t it too big for you?” Spencer raises his coffee up to his lips and takes a small sip. You stand in the doorway looking at him, as his eyes roam you.

“Well yes, but since this,” you gesture to your small 12 week bump, since you were housing not one but two small humans you were showing a little more, “ its the only thing that hides it.” 

“You don't need to hide,” Spencer stands, putting his cup on the coffee table, and walks to you. 

“Yeah well, i just want to not tell anyone for a little while longer, until im sure nothing is going to happen. Because if i tell people, and something happens, i don't think i could live with the looks people will give me.” You shrug looking down at your black heels.

“The risk of miscarrying both is only 9%, and one of them is only 27%. You shouldn’t worry about that, so far at all of your appointments the doctors have said that they are strong, and developing normally.” He rests his hands on your stomach over the black tank top you wore. 

“Still, it scares me Spencer, i love them so much already.” Your eyes cloud with tears, and Spencers hand cups your cheek as he thumbs away the hot tears that spill.

“Don't cry, nothing is going to happen, you’ll see, in roughy 23 weeks, because most twins are born at 35 weeks not 40, we will hold them.” He leans down putting his forehead against yours, and you nod slightly. 

“You don't have to come to this if you don't want to, i know that you don't like seeing my mom trapped in the sanitorium.” He rests his hands on your shoulders and searches your face. 

“No, i want to go, we told my mom and dad, now its time to tell Diana. I just hope she doesn’t think i did this on purpose, to trap your or something.” you shrug, and turn back to towards the bedroom to look for your black sweater. 

After a few moments of looking you find it tucked away in the back of your closet, you pull it on over your head. Spencer takes a moment to study you before grabbing your car keys and walking with you to the door and helping you into the car. You pull out of the drive way and start the drive to the sanitorium. 

Once you get there Spencer is pulled aside with his mothers doctors, and you’re left to sit with Diana.

“How are you doing Diana?” You ask, rubbing your hands on your thighs, as you sit in the chair across from her. 

“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks, today she seemed lucid, which was a good sign. 

“Im doing good, are they treating you well here?” 

“I mean this is no Ritz, but it does the job, and if it makes Spencer happy then i guess i cant complain.” She shrugs, closing her journal.

With a nod, you look back down at your hands, your stomach was doing flips, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to get back over here. After a few moments of silence she spoke again.

“So how far along are you?” 

Your face pales, and your mouth drops for a moment before you catch yourself, and close it. 

“Um, 12 weeks…” you mumble as Spencer walks back over.

“Hi mom,” he smiles and sits down on the chair next to you. 

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?” She directs this question towards him, and Spencer furrows his brows. 

“Tell you what mom?”

“That you were having a child? Were you going to tell me?” Diana looks over at him.

“T-that’s what we came here to tell you today. And it’s actually two. Twins, mom.” Spencer leans forward putting his elbows on his knees.

For a moment there’s a silence that could make even the most extroverted person feel awkward.

“Well, congratulations. Although I hadn’t wished for you to be a teen parent. I know that if anyone can raise children to be extraordinary it would be you two.” She smiles and stands to hug Spencer.

You release a breath you had been holding, after a moment of Diana hugging Spencer she turns to you and you push yourself up from the chair. She wraps her arms around you and squeezes gently.

“Congratulations y/n, I trust you’ll treat my grandbabies and my Spencer right.” She pulls back and placed her hand on your small bump.

“I’ll try my best Diana.” Your smile and sit back down, Spencer and his mom talk for awhile, and you just sit back and watch. You knew how hard it was for him to leave his mom at the end of the day. He really and truly did love her, more than he would ever be able to love you but that was okay. 

“You know, your father wanted more kids. But why mess with perfection.” She winks at him and he smiles softly.

After a few hours and a few games of chess and cards you started to get uncomfortable sitting in the chairs. You were exhausted, this whole pregnancy was draining, and all you could think about was your nice comfy bed back at the house. Spencer had taken you mattress shopping after he found out you were pregnant insisting that you buy a new mattress because his was old, and as your pregnancy went on sleeping would get harder. He let you pick out whatever you wanted no matter the price, as long as it made your back and hips happy he didn't care. 

“Mom, as much as i would love to spend the next few hours here with you paying chess, cards and even reading your old poetry books with you. I can see that Y/N, is getting uncomfortable and needs to lay down” Spencer stands and takes your hands, helping you to a standing position. 

“Of course, i cant have my grandchildren be distressed. I know i cant be much help in here, but you have my support.” She smiles and hugs you and then turns to Spencer, “Please… don't keep them from me.” She puts a hand on the side of his face. 

“Mom… I would never..” He whispers and wraps his long arms around her and squeezes her tight. 

~~~~~

*34 Weeks*

“Spencer, i swear to god if you touch me i will hurt you!” You seethe, as the nurse to your left pokes at the back of your hand with the needle. 

“Miss, you need to hold still, i need to place the IV.” The nurse grabs at your arm and you whip your head in her direction. 

“Well i’m sorry i have two very tiny people trying to evacuate my body at this moment, and it hurts, so sitting still is a little hard!” You glare at the nurse with strawberry blonde hair. Oh how you just want to rip it out of her stupid head. 

“I understand, but we need to get the iv in so we can give you fluids. Just try to breathe through it, your in early labor which means the contractions will be further apart now. You have 10 minutes between them, so just bare with me for the 10 seconds it hurts. You’re doing great i promise.” She smiles and you take a deep breath, as she inserts the needle and starts the iv. After a moment of setting the flow rate for the fluids she leaves leaving you with an unusually calm Spencer.

“Spencer… i’m sorry i didn't mean to snap at you, it just hurts.” You look over at him and see him give you a small smile before he starts to slide his hand towards yours, and you grasp it tightly. 

“I know, i’m here for you, you’ve been doing so good.” He smiles at you and runs a hand over your very messy and sweaty hair. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m scared…” You look down at the IV in your arm, and Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I know, i’m scared too. But we have each other, we’ll get through this I promise.”

“Can you read to me?” You look up at him, Spencer smiles softly at you, then pulls the chair in the corner of the room up to the edge of your bed. He pulls a book out of his messenger bag, and flips through and starts to read to you. Spencer never misses a beat with helping you through your contractions as they come and go.

After 36 excruciating hours, your twins make their appearance, Atlas and Lucas Reid, came into the world screaming. You and Spencer cried more than they did, and your parents visited and Spencer was able to call his mom and tell her about the arrival of her grandchildren. 

As you lay sleeping on the small hospital bed, Spencer stands in front of the two bassinets the hospital provided for the twins to sleep in, and stares down at them. 

He gently runs a finger over their hands, as a soft smile plays on the corner of his lips. 

“I will do anything and everything in my power to keep you safe. I don't care if i have to hide you away from the world. Nothing will hurt you.” He softly promises his two sleeping newborns. He glances over at you, your hair is fanned across the pillows and your hands are laying protectively over where your bump once was. Your lips are parted slightly and for a few moments he watches your chest rise and fall, “I’ll always protect your mommy too. Without her, i would’ve never known the greatest thing in life.” He smiles to himself again as one of the twins sighs softly. 

~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

Criminal minds:

@talktomeniice

@reapeared

@banananna99 

@cynbx

#spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer x you #reid #x reader #reid x reader #reid x you #x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal #minds #x you #pregnant #x pregnant! reader

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Sickness

(Story Post)

A morning came one day where Nathan just couldn’t get out of bed. He called his doctor hoping he’d come for a house call and thankfully Reid had a little bit of time. When he arrived at Nathan’s home, he let himself in with the key Nathan had told him was under his flower pot. He headed upstairs to find his favourite wolf-man curled up in a cocoon again. “Oh dear, what’s the matter today?” Reid asked. “You can’t get out of bed?” Nathan rolled over to face him and frowned. “They’re moving…”

Reid blinked, his eyes lighting up. “Really? Well, that’s a very good sign, Nathan.” “I hate it… They’re making me nauseous,” Nathan said. “I don’t know what to do… I think I’ll puke if I get up…” Reid sighed sympathetically. “Unfortunately, getting up is the most common cure. When you lie down, babies love to go nuts in there, but when you stand, they typically calm down.” “If I stand, I’ll puke.” “You probably won’t but I can get you a trash can or something,” Reid said. “Is there one in your bathroom?” “Should be…” Reid went and got the bin and brought it back. “Take this and get yourself up. Come on.” Nathan wrapped the blankets around himself and tucked it so it wouldn’t come off then took the trash can in one hand and let Reid pull him up with his other hand. When he was upright, he did still feel queasy, but the twins settled down after a few seconds alongside the nausea. “I’m not gonna puke,” Nathan said. “Aye. So is that all I drove out here for?” Reid asked. “Well… No…” Nathan said, looking down. “There’s something else…” “And what’s that, laddie?” Reid asked, patting Nathan’s arm. “I… Um, it’s really embarrassing…” Nathan said. “I guess, it’s uh… Ah, fuck it…” He undid the blanket, displaying the two big wet marks in his pyjama shirt. Reid put his hands on his hips. “Well, well. Your milks come in.” “But why?” Nathan asked. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re pregnant.” “But I don’t have tits!” Nathan said. “You don’t need prominent breasts to start lactating, just the right plumbing which everyone has—unless removed—and the right hormone cocktail,” Reid explained. “This was to be expected.” “Then why didn’t you tell me this would happen?” “I forgot but also I expected you to consider it before,” Reid said. “But it’s nothing to fret about. Let me take a look.” Nathan sighed and took off his shirt. He looked away as the doctor examined his chest. “They’ve definitely swollen up,” Reid said. “Are they tender?” “Yeah, really sensitive…” Nathan pouted. “Shirts feel uncomfortable rubbing against them. And I don’t know what to do with all the…all the leakage.” “Say no more. You want nursing pads,” Reid said. “There’s different kinds, but overnight ones and braless ones will likely be best.” Nathan rubbed his eye. “I’ve been to baby stores too much now… I really don’t want to go out like this.” “Laddie. Order them online,” Reid said. “It’s early morning. You could potentially have it all delivered by the end of the day. Also, get yourself a big sports bra. That’ll help a lot.” “A bra? I can’t wear a bra!” Nathan complained. “Yes you can. I believe in you. You’re not the only man who’s ever had to wear a bra. I can guarantee that.” “Oh god, how am I supposed to do all this? It’s so embarrassing and I have to do it alone,” Nathan groaned. Reid rubbed his back. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s troubling you most about this?” Nathan sighed deeply and sat down. “I just… Everything I expected when it came to me having kids is thrown out the window…” “What were you expecting?” Reid sat down beside him. “Well, first I thought I’d be adopting… And I thought I’d have job security. And I thought I’d be…well, married. At least, I’d have a partner helping me… Signing the papers with me. Decorating the nursery with me. Picking out clothes. But I’ve done everything alone. And I’m pregnant.” Reid rubbed his chin. “Well, have you thought about dating?” Nathan frowned. “Dating? Seriously? Like this?” He motioned to his torso. “You’d be surprised by the people who could be into that,” Reid insisted. Nathan crinkled his nose. “I don’t want to be someone’s fetish. I want someone who wants the normal me. The not fat and leaking me.” He looked down. “God, if I hadn’t…become what I am now… I’d still be with Hugh. I’d still work at my old school. We were even starting to talk about kids… I ruined everything.” “Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve heard your transformation story many times and it has always sounded like it was Hugh’s fault you were bit in the first place,” Reid said. “He took you off the path. He found the wolf cub. He chose to leave you when you needed him most.” “I tore his leg off!” Nathan growled. “I’d leave any man who tore my leg off too!” “He wouldn’t have had his leg torn off if he didn’t get you bit,” Reid stated. “You understand?” Nathan crossed his arms. “Are you pinning this on Hugh to try and make me feel better? Because it’s not working.” He gagged a little as he felt a movement in his stomach again so he stood up. “God, I want this to end…” “It’ll be over soon,” Reid said. “Rest for today.” “I can't…” Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I’ve missed work way too much… The principal acts nice about it, but I can tell she wants to kill me.” “She doesn’t want to kill you. But you need the rest. I might even say we should start you on bed rest but you’re determined to work.” “I don’t know if you noticed, but children are expensive,” Nathan said. “I can barely afford my own living situation right now. I need to work.” Reid sighed. “After the next wolf cycle, I’m putting you on bed rest. You need it and the twins need it. I can tell just by looking at you, you’re beyond exhausted.” “…Fine. That gives me three weeks,” Nathan huffed. “But that’s still so soon…” “Just keep thinking about how you’ll get to meet your little angels.” Reid placed a hand on the side of Nathan’s stomach. “I think you’ll find it’s all worth it.” Nathan exhaled deeply for a couple seconds then placed his hands on his stomach. In this sitting position, the twins had started acting up again and he could feel them moving. His stomach turned as he felt it, but he just thought about how it was his children and that every little move meant they were alive. While he still felt a little sick from the movement, it warmed his heart a little bit knowing they were safe. “…Doc.” Reid perked up. “Aye?” “I should tell my parents, right?” Reid blinked stared at Nathan. “You haven’t told your parents yet that they’re going to be grandparents?” Nathan shook his head. “…I haven’t talked to them since… Well, since my grandma’s funeral.” “Ah. Fuzzy connection?” Nathan nodded. “Very fuzzy… I came out when I was fifteen and they sent me away to live with my grandma. They thought her ‘traditional ways’ would ‘fix’ me. That backfired pretty quick. My nana was nothing but loving.” He rubbed his belly. “I wish she was here to meet her great grandkids… But I guess, that’s not common anyway…” “Mm… Aye, I wish you coulda been so lucky,” Reid sympathised. “And it’s up to you whether you believe your parents should know and be a part of this journey with you. The last thing you need though is more stress.” “Right…” Nathan sighed and stood back up to relieve the movement. “Can you let Principal Liu know I won’t be coming in today?” “I’ll do that.” Reid checked his watch. “I got to go though. I have an appointment with another patient.” “Alright, go ahead… I’m good I guess,” Nathan decided. “Thanks for coming all the way out here, doc. I guess my issue was pretty dumb…” Reid shook his head. “No, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Do you have any friends or family who can come around and check up on you?” “Um… The only person I can think of would maybe be Nari… But he’d be working, so…” “It might be worth talking to him because it’s always better to have people around if not just for emotional support.” “I guess… But Nari's… Nari can be a little…” “Stubborn and abrasive?” Reid asked. “Yeah, he’s like that. But he means well and I’m sure if he’s paid any attention to you, it means he likes you.” “I mean, I guess… He made us official friends the other day when we, uh…” Nathan scratched the back of his head. “Well, he came over to help with my laundry. Started calling me by my first name.” “Well, then you’re best buds it seems,” Reid chuckled. “Good, it’s important he makes friends too… He avoids it. You know you’re true friends when he carries you over.” “Over what?” Nathan asked. “Over lives. You must’ve heard him talk about his lives,” Reid explained. “Nari creates a new persona every couple decades to avoid people catching on to his immortality. Each new persona is usually accompanied with a big move. His first new persona moved to the UK. Then when she was done, Nari was created and he moved to Canada. What I’d like to see is either an extension in one of his personas, or at least the effort to bring over some people in his life and not just cut everyone off.” “Oh. That seems…” Nathan rubbed his chin. “Dramatic maybe?” “Yes, but you can understand. I only hope to be brought over too… I feel like he should at least consider what APID has to offer him or whoever he’ll be in the long term.” Reid checked his watch again and clenched his teeth. “Christ, I really gotta go, Nathan. But I’ll call in the afternoon, make sure you’re well.” Nathan nodded and pulled a robe on. “…Nursing pads, right?” “Aye. I’ll send you a link to some good ones from the web.” Reid went out to the stairs. “Okay… Bye then.” “Eat something. Bye now.”

#lore #mpreg #Nathan #Reid #werewolf

[saturnmyg]

The devil wears givenchy (1) | Min Yoongi

❝ You’re a therapist who one day gets a call from someone who claims to be satan asking for an appointment. On the day of the appointment you expect to see a teenager or someone in their mid twenties instead you’re met with a man in a screaming red suit whose hair and eyes are as dark as the night but with an attitude of a spoiled brat, he surely cant be satan. ❞

➵ paring: Satan! Yoongi x Therapist reader

➵ author’s note:  im excited for this series to start so i hope yall like it, also the question yn asks are question therapist have asked me on the first counselling session this is all based on experience. 

➵ requested by : no one

| 6.6k words | Demon au |  romance | Humor | action | eventual smut | series

| warnings in this chapter : cursing, mention of death 

Masterlist

@minyoonjiswifey

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

‘’Miss Y/n’’

A deep voice followed by a knock rips you out of your thoughts and you look over to the door. The office's secretary Mr Kim stands there holding a planner in his hand

‘’There was a request or should i say a demand for a counseling session’’ Kim continues brows furrowing together telling you that he's mildly annoyed ‘’by someone claiming to be satan’’

‘’Excuse me what?’’ you fully turn towards secretary Kim with raised eyebrows.

‘’As i said he claimed to-’’

‘’No i understood that’’ you interrupt waving your hand dismissively ‘’did you ask what his real name is?’’

‘’I did-’’ Kim answers monotone ‘’- he said mortals shall call him Min Yoongi. i set an appointment this friday five o'clock’’

‘’Alright thank you for notifying me’’ you smile at the stoic man who just nods in reply, bows slightly and walks out of your office.

Mr Kim is.. a peculiar person. He's a man of a few words with an expressionless yet handsome face and mouse grey dyed hair thats most of the times slicked back. Though when finally does  decide to talk, he tells the wildest stories that often gives you a whiplash.He's also an undefeated champion when it comes to giving backhanded compliments or at least they seem to be.

You'd think working together for almost nine years you'd be used to him.

Thats right, its been nine years since you started working as a therapist. You've always had an affinity to listening to other peoples concerns and to look at the problem objectively without it affecting you. Its funny though that you ended up in this profession. The past you was.. wild, especially during college. Don't get it wrong it wasn't that you were out partying all time but you and your group of friends were up to no good.

Your family was very poor when your mother was still alive. She loved gambling and spending her money on alcohol to the point where you had no food left at home. Which meant that fourteen years old you had to work, at a strip club as waitress. Not the best place for a minor to be considering the leeching looks the people sometimes threw at you but fortunately one of the security guys always looked out for you. until one day a sleazy looking man gave you his business card saying that he was looking for someone who'd be able to deliver stuff for him. Of course you were weary but the promise of a paycheck that was three times higher than the one you were already earning was too good of an opportunity to let it slip past you.

And thats basically how you became a drug dealer and how you met your friends who were either also working for your ex boss or working for his friend who often had his folks deliver drugs to your boss. Of course that slowed down the moment you became a senior. You started studying and participating in class more, the pressure of finding a socially accepted job after college weighing on your shoulder like a huge rock. You and some of your friends completely stopped dealing when graduation was nearing and your boss thankfully let you go but offered that the there would be always a spot open for you if you ever needed it.

Shaking your head you chuckle slightly and turn back to the computer. You've met countless types of people but no one ever has introduced themselves as satan. You're intrigued in finding out what type of person your client is going to be.

Shutting off the laptop you stand up from the table, take your jacket and put it on. Flickering off the lights you turn around and give your office a last glance before you exit out of the room. Walking down the pristine hallway towards where the reception you fumble with your car keys lost in your thoughts. Arriving at the entrance you see Secretary Kim sitting behind the computer typing something at a fast speed. Walking up to the reception table you knock on the dark hard wood a few times ‘’I'm clocking off’’

Secretary Kim looks up from the computer and nods curtly, the glasses sitting low on his nose bridge, before immersing himself in whatever he was doing before and you let out a small sigh

‘’don’t stay too long’’  you warn him and leave the office.

Standing in front of the elevator you hum a quiet tune waiting for the doors to open. A few seconds later a quiet ping indicates that the elevator has arrived at your level and the doors open. Surprised you see a tall man wearing a black coat with a book in his hand

‘’Ah good evening Y/n’’ The man greets you as you walk into the elevator, dimples poking out of his cheeks.

‘’Its already night Namjoon’’ you greet back with a small chuckle.

Namjoon works at the dental praxis that is one floor above you so you constantly run into each other. He's playful man who most of the times has a mischievous glint in his eyes yet from what you've seen is very serious about his job. Another thing is he's quite popular, even amongst your own coworker alongside with secretary Kim. But with those looks who wouldn't be, tan skin with deep dimples and voice, beautiful thick hair and legs so long they belong on a runway. Plus he got the brains too, he's what you call a total package, anyone would be drooling for him.

Namjoon reaches over and presses the button ‘’since its only 07:55pm its still evening’’

‘’Semantics’’ you reply with an eye roll and namjoon just chuckles. A comfortable hush falls over the both of you and you take out your phone. Your'e so immersed in looking at your schedule that you dont notice that the doors have opened. Namjoon nudges you and you snap out of it, bashfully you tuck your phone back into your pocket and walks towards  the building's entrance.

‘’See you Y/n’’ Namjoon turns around smiles, his eyes turn into crescents.

‘’Bye’’ you wave and you both part ways. Taking your scarf out of the purse, you wrap it around your neck before tugging the jacket closer to your body. Winter has finally settled and you're overjoyed. You love November, you love how the city smells of cinnamon and mulled wine. How around every corner you can hear people already singing Christmas carols and how everyone just looks so happy.

Besides Christmas you love winter nights, specifically nights where you wake up at three in the morning to pee and you look outside to find freshly fallen snow. The snow making the environment look brighter and slightly alienating, kind of as if you live in a picture. Yet for whatever reasons that sight makes your bed seem more comfortable and warm.

Scurrying across the parking lot you take out your keys and unlock the vehicle. Quickly you get into it and slam the door behind you. Throwing your purse on the passenger seat you plug your phone in, scroll through Spotify till you find your playlist and press play. A smooth melody with a deep bass vibrates through the car as you're backing out of the parking spot and you quietly hum along.

The only thing about winter you don’t really like is driving on the iced street. Along with the lingering paranoia that any car could lose control and crash into yours.

Thats a bad habit of yours, imagining the worst possible outcomes of any situation. You could be walking down the stairs and suddenly you'll think about how you could fall down, hit your head and die instantly cause your neck snapped. So most of your rides are filled with anxiety and extreme caution.

Sighing slightly you shake your head before focusing back on the road.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Unlocking the door you enter you home, take off your shoes off. Walking down the hallway into the living room you throw your jacket onto the gray couch and grab the remote control. Turning on the tv you continue to walk into the kitchen.

Your kitchen is pretty nice though, black tiles decorating the wall along with white and gray cabinets. As a matter of fact you decorated your place only with monochrome colors, to the point where even your dishes match the look you're going for. The plants that are widespread throughout the apartment finishes the look with a splash of green color.

To be honest, you've been meaning to change the color scheme but you're either are too lazy or too busy to do so. Maybe its cause you've gotten older but often times the colors make you feel alienating, kind of the same feeling you get when you enter an apple store. Future-esque but not homely or welcoming.

Opening the refrigerator you groan at the sight, slamming the fridge shut you notice the post on note. ''buy groceries!''  it says in bright red cursive letters. Great, whats the point of using post on notes when you don't even see them cause apparently now you're blind.

Grimacing your reach over to the house phone hanging on the wall corner that separates the kitchen and living room, and dial the pizzeria's number. The phone rings a few times until it clicks

‘’Dio's pizzeria how can i help you?’’  asks a lazy voice.

You give them your order and address and they tell you that the pizza should arrive in thirty minutes. Hanging up the phone you walk out of the kitchen, down the hallway into your room.

Your bedroom just like the rest of the apartment is decked out in the same monochromic colors , even your sheets and pillows match. Hanging on your wall are cute pictures of your college friends that you try to meet up at least once a week. Overall the room has a nice feeling to it but if the pictures weren't there no one could tell that this room belongs to you.

Putting the light on you stop in your tracks. Something is off, you cant really pin point what but it feels like someone was in your bedroom when you weren't home. Looking at the pictures on the wall you see that they're all intact and untouched. Walking towards the desk you carefully look at the papers and other items, wondering if you truly left your desk this disorganized.

With quiet steps you walk to the closet and take out your pajamas and scurry out of the room. ''What is this , final destination?' you mutter under your breath and enter the bathroom. Feeling like someone is watching you quickly undress and jump into the shower.

After serenading several songs you remember that the pizza should be arriving any minute you jump out of the shower and dry yourself with a fluffy towel you bought a few months ago. As you're wrapping the towel around your head you hear the doorbell ring so you walk out of the bathroom, take your purse out of the bag that you left in the hallway and open the door.

In front of you stands a boy that looks like he's in his early twenties. Tall, with honey dipped tan skin and Dark hair that reaches the tip of his chin. A face that's so flawless you're sure he was sculpted by god himself. Yet the longer you stare at him the more its off putting. Kind of like how the longer you look into the mirror the more grotesque you think the reflection has become. His eyes is what makes the alarm bells ring in your head. They're big and dark but soulless to the point where for a second you think a other worldly being stands in front of you.

‘’One prosciutto e funghi pizza for Y/n?’’ He asks his voice deep and you notice that his canines are unusually pointy.

‘’Thats me’’ you answer , take the pizza. As you're handing him the money, your finger tips graze the palm of his cold hand a electric shock goes through your body.

‘’Always be careful to not touch supernatural beings’’ a vague memory of an old woman flashes through your head and you quickly retract your hand, clutching it against your chest.

The delivery boy who stiffed up at the skin contact, hastily takes a step back, runs his fingers through his hair , acting nonchalant but his eyes are still wide. ''Have a nice day'' he says, his smile even more menacing than before and it sends a shiver up your spine.

You nod slowly, and he turns around and  leaves. Your eyes following his back until he walks down the stairs and you cant see him anymore , before you walk back into your home and close the door. Walking into the living room you put the pizza on the small table by the couch and you sit down.

‘’Its just paranoia’’ you mutter, reach over and take a piece out of the carton. ''Is it though? you ask yourself while biting into the food. You're not sure why you even had such a flashback earlier and why your grandma was in it. As much as you know she's was an ordinary old sweet lady who loved spoiling her grandchild, though there is a big junk of your memory missing due to an incident that happened when you were a child.

Shaking your head you decide to worry about it when the time comes and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

‘’How could you do this to me?’’ the woman on tv cries and you scrunch your nose. The acting is horrible, similar to how the late eighties movie were, over dramatic with a lousy plot and weird sense of humor. Taking the remote control, you take a bite off the pizza and switch the channel.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Annoyed Yoongi sits in the waiting room, tapping his fingers against his thigh rhythmically. He's only here because his advisor- Jimin basically blackmailed him to go to therapy, which in yoongi's eyes is ridiculous. As a matter of fact , Yoongi had rolled his eyes when jimin came up with the proposition. He doesn't need therapy he's perfectly fine but according to Jimin ,yoongi is brash, pompous and needs a ''reality'' check. Yoongi thinks jimin is only saying that because of the way he treats his employees. Sure he's a hard-to- please- boss and likes to nitpick at everything, he is satan after all but he has seen human's who were in his position treat their employees way worse than he does.

Yet here he is, sitting in the waiting room in a uncomfortable chair while starring at the white eggshell wall that's decorated with various framed pop art posters. The atmosphere heavy reminding yoongi of the dread of lost souls and he wants to smack his head against the wall. The tapping on his thigh speeds up , making the small thumping sound echo through the room and the man sitting opposite of yoongi shoots hime a glare. Before yoongi can retaliate the door opens and you step into the room.

‘’Min Yoongi?’’

Yoongi stand up and fixes his blazer and walks towards you.

The first thing you notice about the Yoongi is the suit he's wearing. The red is so bright it makes you want to gauge your eyes out, you cant fathom for the life of you why someone would wear that color but then again secretary Kim did tell you that the person on the phone was strange. The suit though fits his form quite and goes well with the white turtleneck that he's wearing underneath the blazer.

‘’That's me’’Yoongi replies, stretching out his hand.

‘’Y/n’’ you take his hand into yours and shake it briefly. The second thing you notice is how deep yet slightly nasal his voice is, which matches his image impeccably.

‘’Please follow me’’ you say and turn around to walk down the hallway with yoongi on your heel. Opening your office door you step aside and let him enter the room first. ‘’Would you like something to drink?’’ you ask walking over to the coffee machine standing on top of the gray table thats by the wall.

‘’Coffee, black’’ Yoongi curtly answers, while looking around the room before sitting down on the arm chair.

Yoongi feels uncomfortable. Theres this weird feeling in his gut that started the moment his skin touched yours and that feeling only got stronger when he walked into your office. Your office looks like any normal office would look, white walls also decorated with the same overrated pop art posters that every college student that majors in art surely has hanging in their room. Gray armchairs and a plant by your desk that looks like its five minutes away from dying. Yoongi isn't sure if the plant is supposed to be like that or if you're really just careless and if the latter is the case, does that mean you care about your clients the same way as that plant?

‘’Here’’ you speak up ripping yoongi out of his thoughts, putting the mug on the small table in front of him before taking a seat opposite of yoongi.

Yoongi was surprised earlier when you greeted him. He expected his therapist to be an older woman in her fifties who had a kind grandmother face and a soft voice. Instead he was met with you, who stood as if you were being pulled up by the roots of your hair, wearing black from head to toe with your hair pulled into a tight ponytail and oval glasses sitting on top of your nose. Which made you look more like the grim reaper instead of a professional who listens and helps people coping being alive. Even know as you're sitting in front of him, you're posture is straight as a wooden board which adds an air of elegance to your being but in yoongi's eyes you look prudish and stern.

‘’Tell me why you're here’’ you say looking up from your notebook where you wrote down todays date and his name.

Picking the cup up Yoongi takes a sip before sighing deeply ''i was forced to be here''

That doesn't surprise you, his whole body language and vibe screams that he doesn't want to be here at all and you're sure he's doing that on purpose. ‘’Forced? by who?’’

‘’By my advisor’’ Yoongi answers ‘’he thinks i have behavioral issues’’, he makes air quotes. ‘’Which is complete bullshit considering we work in hell and compared to the human bosses who are way more corrupted that we demons are i'm actually quite lenient’’

You stop writing on your notebook and blink at him multiples times. The fact that he even said that whole speech with a straight face makes you think you dissociated for a second. Raising your eyebrows slightly you continue to write.

calls workplace hell and refers to coworkers as demons. advisor sent him to counseling.

‘’I assume then that you haven't seen a therapist or counselor before?’’ you ask and cross your legs.

‘’correct’’ Yoongi sighs ‘’i'm going to be honest i'm not exactly expecting much from this i'm only here cause of my advisor who otherwise would get angry it wouldn't surprise me if he ratted me out to the angels’’

That the action of someone nonchalantly shrugging their shoulders could look so arrogantly never occurred to you until you met him. Nodding your head you continue to ask

‘’What do you see as being the biggest problem?’’

‘’Work’’ Yoongi answers so fast the words practically fly out of his mouth. ‘’Some would say its me but its the workers. We're not understaffed but the workers love lazying around and gossip. And hiring new people would take up too much time considering that they'd need training and honestly i don’t have the patience cause they're more likely to make mistakes and i hate mistakes. he stresses the word hate.

likes consistency ,seems very particular about surroundings.

‘’What exactly is your occupation?’’

‘’I thought you humans knew what we demons do’’ Yoongi states taking another sip of the coffee. ‘’Considering that mankind worship god and its ways, though the holy scriptures aren't accurate at all i mean they were written by humans , which by the way half of those people didn't even exist, and then translated into other languages over decades which means most of what was originally written is lost in translation.’’

If this were The Office this would be the scene where you'd blankly stare into the camera for a few seconds but it isn't so you just choose to stay quiet.

‘’But you know what's ridiculous?’’ Yoongi continues ‘’i got casted out , told that i will never return to heaven, which yeah was shitty but the real trauma is how when i fell i was immense pain cause my wings started to burn off and my wings were my pride you know.  Just cause i didn't agree with their vision,  and now i constantly have gods followers on my ass, acting like I'm the bad one when in actuality I'm just doing my job and its those unemployed demons that wreck havoc in the human world.’’

Refers to parental figure as god, meaning that person is the authorial person in the household. overall cites and talks about the bible, could mean  the household is extremely religious.. Says angels are after him and the coworkers, possibly trying to tarnish the company's name. Has implied that he is satan, possible the black sheep of the family.

‘’I thought satan is responsible for all demons’’ you decide to humor him.

‘’Don't be silly human' Yoongi waves dismissively his hand ‘’that would make me a god, which i'm not. To be a god i'd need to have a lot more followers and willing sacrifices which i honestly don't have the time for cause you humans are dying at an alarming rate and we have to overwork ourselves.’’ He sends you a nasty glare you decide to ignore.

‘’What would be the solution?’’ you look up from your notes

‘’if they stop fucking misplacing the documents, pens and everything else. Theres a manual where it specifically states that if you put documents on my table it has to be on the right side four centimeters away from the left and three centimeters from the part of the desk thats the closest to you .’’ he rubs his temples with furrowed brows.

‘’Why those numbers specifically?’’

‘’because thats the most efficient way’’ Yoongi answers with a tone that makes you think you asked the world's dumbest question.

‘’They stress me out so much to the point where i feel like screaming every time i see their faces, sometimes i feel like they're doing this on purpose cause when my advisor orders them to do something they'll happily comply. im sure its because of his looks’’ he mutters the last part.

gets stressed out to the point of exhaustion if he doesn't have full control of his environment.

‘’What positive changes would you like to see happen in your life?’’

‘’this is going to sound crazy since i'm satan’’ Yoongi sighs deeply and stares at the dying plant behind you ''but i want things to be more peaceful and right now hell is in utter chaos, as i mentioned earlier a lot of demons are not working, not due that there aren't any jobs but because they still have that old mindset that their only mission in life is to kill humans. Don't get me wrong i could care less about you guys but its my company that has to overwork itself cause of it’’

You raise your eyebrows ‘’don't souls go to hell cause they used to be a sinner?’’

Yoongi scoffs and rolls his eyes ‘’ hell is just another word for the underworld. Souls come down to us to get judgment of their previous life and if they were a goodie two shoes they get sent to heaven by following the holy light that shines down when the gates open up. Though i am glad my advisor was able to negotiate with the angels to let them into heaven cause it was getting overcrowded down there and all the demons we sent up to bring the souls were brutally attacked by them’’

For someone who claims to hate humankind yoongi sure likes and takes his time to explain to you how hell really works. As if you're going to correct anyones assumptions about hell , which by the way you don’t believe that he's satan, there is no actual evidence that demons exist. So you decided a long time ago that you wont believe in such folklore.

You stare at the paper in your lap for a few seconds, raking your brain on what to write down of what he just told you, since you cant compare it to anything logical. The only explanation on why the ''angel's '' would attack yoongi's worker would be that he works in the shady field, you know, like being a drug lord or anything else that isn't accepted in society.

‘’you know’’ you speak up, deciding to document that last part later when you have time to think everything through. ‘’although you are not a god, you're still the most powerful demon in the underworld no?’’

‘’Not exactly, after i fell i became one of the ten kings of hell, mostly because i was the one who contributed the most when it came to establish the underworld. Though i am the one who makes the final decision hence why i get the most workload.’’

‘’hm’’ you hum ‘’it sounds like the reason why you're not being listened to is because you haven't clearly established the hierarchy in your environment’’

‘’I clearly have but they don't-’’

‘’Being the boss does not mean you scream or fuss at your subordinates, but that you reward them for their good work and fire them if it needs to be done’’  you give him an intense look. ‘’With you lashing out shows that you have time to be emotional which means theres time to dilly dally’’

‘’Their reward is a good paycheck’’ Yoongi counters clasping his hands ‘’there are no holidays for us because you humans die whenever its convenient and theres a special regiment that needs to be followed for the souls to either get reincarnated or go to heaven. And firing my workers is out of question’’

‘’Then what about proposing the idea to the others ,of making a trainee department where you recruit people who want or are desperate for money since you said the paycheck is hefty. It would benefit you in the way that , the trainee's can see what working in your department would be like  and then decide if they want to stay or not, and if they stay your workload will sink significantly’’

Yoongi touches his lips for a few times, lost in his thoughts trying to process what you said before he snaps his fingers and points it at you. ‘’Human that is actually a very good idea, do you want to work for me?’’

A feeling similar to disgust washes over you with the way he said human, as if you're lower than him, lower than an insect even and your first instinct is to grimace. Instead you smile, squinting your eyes ever so slightly to give the illusion that the expression is real. ‘’No thank you i'm quite content with my job’’ you politely refuse.

‘’Thats a shame’’ Yoongi shrugs his shoulders ‘’you would fit into the underworld quite well’’

You're not sure if that is a compliment of it he's telling you that you're demonic. Either way you decide to ignore his statement and close the file in your lap. ‘’The session will end in five minutes , but before that i want to ask you, how do you feel now?’’

''Better'' Yoongi answers ‘’less stressed as when i walked in which surprises me , you're quite good  i wouldn't mind the weekly sessions.’’

‘’Thank you’’ you answer ‘’do you have any questions?’’

‘’everything i tell you is confidential right?’’

‘’Yes, unless you've killed someone or are threatening general public i would have to report you but otherwise no one knows anything, even your advisor wont get told what happened in here’’ you reply.

‘’i wouldn't say that’’ Yoongi hums ‘’he has quite a way with words and is able to persuade anyone’’

‘’we'll have to see’’ you retort and take your planner from the small table ‘’is next week on thursday at four o'clock in the afternoon good for you?’’

‘’Yes’’ Yoongi answers as he's looking at the schedule on his phone.

‘’Good’’ you close the planner ‘’before you go i want you do this every time you feel like your anger and stress is getting to you, take deep breaths and slowly count to ten, that should help you calm down a little and think rationally, well talk on how effective it was next week then’’

Yoongi nods and you stand up, walks towards the door and open it. As you turn around to face him you see him standing just a few feet away from the couch starring out of the window, his brows furrowed and his lips tight. He turns around and walks towards you in long strides an hint of annoyance on his face.

‘’I'll see you next week then’’ you stretch out your hand ‘’if something should come up and you’re not able to come please do call and cancel a day before the appointment’’

''Alright '' Yoongi replies and takes your outstretched hand into his

When Yoongi's hand touch your skin your earlier suspicions are confirmed. His hand are icy cold to the point that it feels like your skin is burning at the mere contact. Which is worrying because the only time a human ever has a temperature that low is when they're dying of hypothermia yet the man in front of you looks like he has drank out of the fountain of youth.  

He grips your hand tighter and says in a low voice ‘’be careful in the next few days’’

Not sure if he's warning or threatening you, you blankly stare at him before nodding silently and Yoongi lets go of your hand. Gives you one last glance before he walks out of the room and you close the door. Walking over to your desk you plump into the chair and sigh deeply, you have no idea what that so called warning is about, yet another part of your brain instantly goes to how you thought your apartment was broken in a few days ago. But how can Yoongi even know about that, considering the fact that you've just met an hour ago unless the whole thing about him being satan is actually true.

You shake your head, there is no way Yoongi is satan, sure he looks devilishly good despite the ugly red highlighter colored type of suit he was wearing and the black hair compliments his skin color impeccably. But you're also pretty sure the overlord would have more blood thirst and wouldn't be so merciful like yoongi ,who took his sweet time to explain details about hell to you. Almost coming off like that one kid at a slumber party who corrects the other kids when they state they had fun today , saying since its past twelve it technically ''tomorrow'' hence why they had ''fun yesterday''

Basically a kill joy.

Tapping the pen against the desk for a  few times you snort out loud before putting the utensil down. Its out of question that demons and otherworldly beings are real, so for now in your eyes yoongi's using religion as metaphor for his own life.

Opening the laptop you wait for it to start up so that you can write about the session. After around twenty minutes of you trying to find the right words for the report without making it seem like you made the whole thing up ,you notice the time and shut off your laptop. Looking out of the window you notice that the sky is already dark and snowflakes are falling from the sky.

‘’I hope Christmas comes soon’’ you murmur with a small smile before turning around and taking your jacket from the chair. After wrapping the scarf around your neck and picking up your bag you walk towards the door, shut the light off and exit the room.

Christmas has a special place in your heart. Until you were fourteen you had never experienced Christmas, it was something you'd only see on tv and thats was rarely cause your mom almost never paid the electricity bill. And the only time you did was when you were seven, because your grandmother came and took you away from your delirious mother. Though you cant remember it because you had an accident that was severe enough to wipe out your memories of that entire winter.

After you started working as a waitress and the girls who worked there found out that you never celebrated the holiday they made it a tradition to throw a party after work. Everyone would bring food , cake and gifts and would just have a jolly time. And till to this day you continue on with that tradition.

‘’Im clocking out’’ You say as you arrive at the reception to just to find it empty. Confused you look around until you see secretary Kim coming out of the break room with a cup of coffee.

‘’See you on monday’’ he says in his soothing deep voice and holds the cup higher in salutations. You give him a bright smile and walk out of the praxis.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

The reason why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store is because you still haven't bought food. You don't even have an excuse for it, sure technically your'e now seen as an adult but your mind is still that of an nineteen year old college student who doesn't know what budgeting is. Its pure laziness, the mere thought of having to cook and then wash the pots and pans has you groaning for eternity. Hence why your basket is filled with food that can be cooked under fifteen minutes, such as ramen, bread ,cheese, all types of sweets and of course beer.

The convenient store is relatively empty, besides you there are two other people in it one which is the cashier. Mariya takeuchi's song plays in the background but its not the same melody as you remember it. Its funkier than usual which gives the whole store a weird vibe to it. Stores at night are generally a place where it seems like reality is altered. you know the same way how when you're at your friends house and wake up in the middle of the night and everything just seems like its from another dimension? exactly that.

Putting the last chocolate bar into your basket you walk towards where the cashier is located. The cashier is a tall girl who has turquoise blue hair and a mole underneath her left eye. Her whole demeanor is screaming that she's bored but she doesn't attempt to make small talk with you which is something you appreciate. After paying you bid her goodbye and walk out of the store only to bump into someone.

‘’oh shit sorry’’ you aplogize and take a step back. The person you notice, is a male with a black hoodie on, his eyes weirdly soulless as he glances at you not even bothering to give you a reply yet for unknown reasons the hairs on your neck raise and you get goosebumps.  Scurrying across the parking lot you open your car door and put the bags into the passengers seat. A feeling of paranoia washes over you and you quickly get into the car.

‘’be careful- ''  yoongi's voice rings in your ear and you shake your head.

‘’Im starting to loose my damn marbles’’  you murmur, set the gear into reverse and back out of your spot before driving out of the parking lot , towards home. no music is playing because you feel like if it was on you'd miss clues on if someone is following you, also you can concentrate better that way. Thankfully it doesn't take too long for you to arrive home and you park your car into the spot that was given to you by the landlord of the housing complex.

You tighten the scarf around your neck because the cold wind picks up. Heave your purse over your shoulder as you take the two bags full of food,  close the door and lock it before walking up to the building your apartment is in. As you climb up the stairs you notice how the closer you get to your apartment the louder the thumping sound is.

Its your neighbors. Two boys who love to party constantly, which is really annoying even though they're always very polite to you and sometimes when the partying gets too much, they leave you a token of gratitude for not calling the police on them. Its not all that bad though a pair of ear plugs can solve the problem pretty quick and once you're asleep its like you're dead anyways, well unless someone enters your room thats when you wake up in 0000.3 seconds.

You unlock your apartment door and get inside, take off your shoes and walk into the kitchen. You set the bags on the counter, rip the post it note from the fridge and throw it into the garbage can. You leave one ramen on the counter while you put the food into the cupboard, take a small pot and fill it with water before turning on the stove and walk out the kitchen towards your bedroom. 

Putting on the light you notice that your room actually looks untouched and your sigh relieved. You get out of your clothes, carelessly throwing the on the floor and put your pajama on, which of course are black. You tie your hair into a bun, take your phone and walk back into the living room. Put on the television and realize that the water should be boiling by now. 

you smile slightly when you see the water is indeed boiling,  kind of proud at how accurate your timing is but thats no feat for someone who cooks ramen constantly. Literally after ten minutes the food is cooked and you put water into the pan to ‘’let it soak’’ knowing well that you’re using that an excuse to just not have to wash it now. Taking the bowl you walk over to the living room where you sit on the couch and watch the variety show thats playing on tv. 

Chuckling at the funny reactions of the idols you put the now empty bowl on the small table in front of you and lay down on the couch, your hand underneath the pillow. This position , combined with your full stomach and the temperature of the living room has you growing tired and its just takes a few seconds before you fall asleep. 

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

The loud banging on the door wakes you up and alarmed you jump up from the couch. Looking at the clock you see that its eight in the morning and grumble ‘’Who the hell has the nerve to disturb me at ass o clock on a saturday morning somebody better be dying’’

You walk up to the door , open it and see two police officers , whose annoyed expression disappears , in front of you.

‘’ yes?’’ you ask

‘’ma’am we’d like to question you on where you were yesterday when the murder happened next door‘’

#bts x reader #kkreationsnet #kpopwritingnet #bangtanbuds #prettyboysnetwork #kpop x reader #bts scenario #bts scenarios #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim taehyung x reader #kim seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #demon au

[jayvii-blog1]

Today we had the second doctor’s appointment I am starting to get more relaxed in this new world we are both traveling. The doctor is awesome she makes it all super relaxing hell today she even wore her comfy clothes. Here are some notes from the appointment today:

KaiNeKvrsun  notes 143 lbs KaiNeKvrsun: ok lets get vitals KaiNeKvrsun  notes 120/78 JuelzDior  watches the machine and the numbers   KaiNeKvrsun  checks pulse KaiNeKvrsun: i loooooved your tumblr btw KaiNeKvrsun: i blushed so hard JuelzDior: it has been fun creating the blog of this experience JuelzDior: we had to share it with you KaiNeKvrsun: i showed my gf like bae loooooook KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior: awwe KaiNeKvrsun  notes 80 bpm

KaiNeKvrsun: i would like to get a listen at your lungs of thats ok

JuelzDior: yes of course

KaiNeKvrsun: ok aweome

KaiNeKvrsun: this table right here

KaiNeKvrsun  grabs stethoscope 

KaiNeKvrsun  rubs it over your back locating your left lung 

KaiNeKvrsun: deep breath for me

JuelzDior  breathes in deeply 

KaiNeKvrsun: ok and exhale 

JuelzDior  exhales as directed KaiNeKvrsun  moves to right lung KaiNeKvrsun: inhale please JuelzDior  inhales as directed KaiNeKvrsun: aaand exhale JuelzDior  exhales once more KaiNeKvrsun: perfect KaiNeKvrsun  puts scope on your heart and listens

KaiNeKvrsun: ok perfect KaiNeKvrsun: great news KaiNeKvrsun: we can actually take a look at the baby(ies) KaiNeKvrsun: i know you want it to be a surprise so the way ill do it is JuelzDior: oh wow really?

KaiNeKvrsun: ill switch up from the single sonogram to the twin jus to keep you wondering KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior: oh wow lool JuelzDior: ok KaiNeKvrsun: you can both follow me KaiNeKvrsun: let me wash my hands KaiNeKvrsun  washes hands and puts on gloves

JuelzDior  wiggles toes while anxiously wondering what to expect KaiNeKvrsun: ill need to lift your shirt a bit more KaiNeKvrsun: and just so you know this gel is cold KaiNeKvrsun: i hate it but its necessary JuelzDior  pulls my shirt up higher and relaxes

KaiNeKvrsun  applies gel to your belly and grabs transducer KaiNeKvrsun: are you excited? JuelzDior: im a little nervous JayvionDior  peeks over and goes back to my phone recording the appointment   KaiNeKvrsun  rolls transducer around your tummy and zooms in

JuelzDior  lowers eyes as her hormones had her thinking Jay was not paying attention or on Facebook KaiNeKvrsun: i know its a bit hard to see but tht there is a baby

JuelzDior  looks at the image and waves "hi baby" KaiNeKvrsun: its kind of looks like a smidget tadpole KaiNeKvrsun: but the cutest one i ever seen KaiNeKvrsun: lol JayvionDior: loll JuelzDior: Tadpole Dior

JayvionDior: is there only one tadpole? KaiNeKvrsun: here at month 2 your baby has already began to develope its heart spinal cord muscles brain and bones KaiNeKvrsun: you sure you wanna know JuelzDior: is it a girl brain? KaiNeKvrsun: i cant tell you lol KaiNeKvrsun: i made a promise to 2 wonderful people KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior  palms face "ok we can wait"

KaiNeKvrsun: now your placenta and amniotic sac are still forming along with the baby so itll still move around quite easy KaiNeKvrsun: you wont feel it dont worry JuelzDior: can i ask how long will my nipples be so sore? KaiNeKvrsun: the umbilical cord had formed also and connected to the baby for the supply of blood and food KaiNeKvrsun: its just the beginning love KaiNeKvrsun: but they wont be so tender around trimester 2 JuelzDior: ughh that sounds like awhile lool KaiNeKvrsun: but then much more tender around trimester 3

KaiNeKvrsun: now you cant see bc of how small he/she/they are KaiNeKvrsun: but the eyes and limbs are also starting to form

KaiNeKvrsun: and the little one is about the size of a bebe pellet KaiNeKvrsun: very very small JuelzDior  sends kisses to the screen   KaiNeKvrsun: we can only see this much thanks to zoom KaiNeKvrsun: lol

KaiNeKvrsun: good pictures come at 4 months when i typically do the gender reveal JayvionDior: can't wait JayvionDior: she is carrying 8 babies in there loll KaiNeKvrsun: lmbo KaiNeKvrsun: oh i sure hope not JuelzDior  glares at JAyvii KaiNeKvrsun: shes gonna try to kill us both JuelzDior: you gonna be a Zaddy seeking a new home KaiNeKvrsun: lol KaiNeKvrsun: z JuelzDior: with a rehoming fee KaiNeKvrsun: lawd

KaiNeKvrsun  grabs radar and rolls it on your tummy seeking a hb KaiNeKvrsun: is your sound on JayvionDior: yes KaiNeKvrsun: it may be very faint so listen carefully JuelzDior: yes they are KaiNeKvrsun: ok listen carefully JayvionDior: wow JayvionDior: time to listen JayvionDior: yay KaiNeKvrsun: hb JuelzDior: oooooooooooooooooooooooo JayvionDior: there it goes JuelzDior: i hear ittttttttttt JayvionDior: you hear it JuelzDior: hiiiiiiiiiiiii my tadpole's heart

KaiNeKvrsun  cleans off radar and wipes off your belly KaiNeKvrsunKaiNeKvrsun Whisper: how are you feeling a far as your nausea JuelzDior: i would like for someone else to have it JuelzDior: im over that KaiNeKvrsun: lol trust me i understand

KaiNeKvrsun Whisper: itll tone down a bit after trimester 2 as well JuelzDior: its hard out here with a pregnant belly KaiNeKvrsun: yes maam it is KaiNeKvrsun  takes off gloves and grabs prescription pad

KaiNeKvrsun: im gonna write you a prescription for zofran KaiNeKvrsun: you dont need water to take it KaiNeKvrsun: just place it under your tongue and let it dissolve JuelzDior: ok dr thank you KaiNeKvrsun: it pretty much works instantly KaiNeKvrsun: but before taking that try a little lime or lime water its very good for it as well JuelzDior: i will try the lime water because my facebook support group said try ginerale and it was too strong JuelzDior: way too much carbonation KaiNeKvrsun: yes i typically dont recommend it JuelzDior: ah ok KaiNeKvrsun: lime can be harsh if you have too many but maybe one freshly squeezed lime inside an average cup of water can do the trick JuelzDior  taps the information on her phone under notes about baby JuelzDior: thank you dr this will surely be helpful KaiNeKvrsun: i love that you take notes KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior: of course it will be on the blog later JuelzDior: lool KaiNeKvrsun: so many women are clueless even with all the information i give KaiNeKvrsun: lol ooo i cant wait to see

KaiNeKvrsun  hands you your shoes KaiNeKvrsun: ok my favorite part KaiNeKvrsun: hit me with the uestions KaiNeKvrsun: questions* JuelzDior: no questions at the moment i am so ready to go furniture shopping JuelzDior  grabs keys "come on baeeeeeeeeeeeee lets go to kids r us or target" KaiNeKvrsun: lol KaiNeKvrsun: dont drag him too far lol KaiNeKvrsun: i know i went overboard the other day JuelzDior: ty dr so next weeks appointment will resume on thursday correct? JuelzDior: and i need you to relax you have a bundle baking KaiNeKvrsun: yes maam normal time

JuelzDior: see you in 2018 KaiNeKvrsun: happy new years and have the best night ever! JuelzDior: thank you KaiNeKvrsun: goodnight mr dior JayvionDior: good night and Happy New Year

#the-life-of-a-tiny-pudgy-unicorn

[maybeprecocious]

day five

im too fucked up for this so im gonna try

had leave all day

had to take a prn b4 i left

had my appt

and my 1:1

and my other appt

and it all went well

but when i went home i found benzos

and wanted to take them all before my appt

but i waited till after

becausse friday night is 4 getting loose no mayter what

and took them all on the train

then i got to the city

found a bottle shop

bought vodka

text my dealer for xans

but my phone died

so i drank in the bathrooms at the station

and almost threw up

but didnt

i struggled to get back to thw ward

i didnr want to get back to the ward

bur i had to go back so i did

i got back

and i cried bc i felt bad about breaking the rules

but it was fuckk myself up a lil

or dead

and now i wish j had drink more

and replied to my dealer w the xans

shoulda charged my phone so i could get them

and then jumped in front of a fucking train

because i need to die

i have to die

but now all my leave is taken away from me

and i dknt know whatnis going to happen

and getting creative with suicide in thw psych ward never works

i feel sick

im not intoxicated enough

ugh

shoukd have just died

but i should sort out my power of attourney first

and die properly

suicide notes are for pussies

im not suicidal

im doing the right thing

fuck it

im dying, legitimately

not as a gesture

wordsearches are boring count - 8 still bc they are boring now

EDIT: i thought i was going to sleep so thats why that happened but i didnt

i went out to the common area to make tea, i needed something else apart from valium and vodka in my body and i thought i was maybe a little more sober (it hadnt even been that long from when i drank. no logic.)

i didnt talk to anyone, kept my head down

THEN the nurse comes around with the breatho

right in front of everyone

she made me do the breath test (my second for the evening) RIGHT THERE

i didnt want anyone to know

i was so embarrased

i kept giggling, i didnt know what else to do

“this isnt funny”

“I KNOW THIS ISNT FUNNY THATS WHY I SPENT 45 MINUTES CRYING IN THE CORNER OF MY ROOM WHEN I GOT BACK AND YOU TESTED ME THE FIRST TIME. I KNOW IM DUMB”

i tried to look at what it was, but i cant remember

well actually, i couldnt see properly

0.32??

.032??

i drank 3 standard drinks worth of vodka in 2 minutes, which could explain blowing higher

i dont really know how BAC works but i think 0.32 seems like too much

i think what i said earlier was dramatic, but accurate really

i didnt get the version of events right either

this morning i got up, got ready to go, had my obs done (which were basically great A+ for me) and then was told i should take a PRN before going on leave, i didnt refuse. 1mg of lorazepam down.

the journey to the east was horrible

i didnt have any working headphones, i was alone with my thoughts

i wanted to crawl under the train

i had my employment assessment which was super easy, i got an exemption from jobseeking until august next year

i then had a 1:1 with my key worker, it was alright too.

then i went home, i was looking for a headphone adapter in my drawers when i found 20mg worth of diazepam i didnt know i had. i wanted to take it all then and there. i decided to hold off, i needed to be coherent for my psych appointment.

after finding it, it was all i could think about. suddenly something i thought i didnt have, i had in abundance and i didnt know what to do with it.

i dont like valium recreationally. i like it destructively. sometimes, constructively.

i went to officeworks to print some things, i felt like shit. i wanted to smack my head against the printer until i passed out

valium might help

NO

i had my appointment

as with most of my day, i literally dont remember 99.8% of it but, it was very productive

but i still had the valium

i took them all when i was on the train

when i got to the city, i was struggling to function, but not struggling enough

i crossed the road to the bottle shop

two mini bottles of vodka

not very much but, enough, i thought.

i walked to the busy station bathrooms

sat down

drank

i couldnt respond to my dealer, my phone kept dying

gagging, drinking, gagging, drinking

all out of alcohol

less than 2 minutes, 3 standards inside me

after the feeling of nausea and grossness subsided, my brain had room to worry about the calories

approximately 250, not too bad

i was surprised i made it back, i could barely walk.

i got back, i contemplated trying to keep it to myself

but i couldnt

i broke down in tears and told them everything

i dont know what im doing

(the rest of it has been told like i think i have literally typed todays thingy multiple times. deal with it. i need sleep, i feel a lot less inebriated sadly.

i think i hope that i’ll die when i drink or do drugs which is why the weed doesnt cut it anymore. obviously what i had tonight wouldnt kill me but i hoped i would die one way or another, accidentally or purposefully. kinda morbid i know. get over it.)

P.S i broke up with my mum over text

#where my mind is (not) #tw suicide #tw drugs #tw alcohol #cw #tw #gho-lish