#finally met my deadlines and celebrated it by falling asleep on my man’s chest last night and drawing cringe today

[scrapnick]

They’re just resting their eyes guys, they’re watching the movie for sure :)

#texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #the cook #drayton sawyer #bubba sawyer #leatherface #Carrie Anne Byrne #oc #finally met my deadlines and celebrated it by falling asleep on my man’s chest last night and drawing cringe today #life is good

[lovelybunny08]

Let Me Down Slowly

♡ Pairing- Jungkook X Reader

♡ Genre- Smut and Heartbreak

♡Description- Based of Alec Benjamin song "Let me down slowly". You have notice Jungkook has changed.

♡ Thank you @artofediting for editing this story for me. Seriously love you I dont know what I will do without you.😭😭 There will be a prequel to this story 😊😊 ♡

<Prequel                                                                                                 Part 2>

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

It’s been four years now. In the beginning, everything was fresh and exciting. You can still recall every detail of the day your life changed entirely. You were relaxing by the Han river one day; reading a book and soaking in the last few rays of the sun. As you stretched your arms over the back of the bench you sat on, your eye caught onto his movements. There he was, digitally capturing small glimpses of the vibrant life surrounding the river. As your eyes adjusted to take him in, you nearly fell off the bench out of shock. He looked otherworldly with the glow of sun around him. Your eyes latched onto the camera, grasped by his deft fingers with skin leading up to a blue and white striped sort-sleeve. Your eyes drifted farther north only to be struck by the softest bunny smile gracing his features. You still aren’t entirely positive what motivated you to leap outside your comfort zone and approach him, but not a day has gone by where you regretted that burst of irregularity.

A montage of the following four years included regular texting, late night phone calls, and awkward first dates which eventually melded into a feeling so natural it seemed as being with him was second nature. You became an official couple after a sure year of talking and dating. Both of you had been in toxic relationships in the past and were weary to commit until enough time passed. The next landmark occurred after two years of dating. It was a late night at Jungkook’s apartment, and you mentioned how difficult it was to stay awake on the drive back to your place. Without missing a beat, he suggested that you two move in together to remedy your achy eyes, and the rest was history.

Everything was easier with him, and you slowly fell into the idea that this bliss was truly how the right relationships ought to be. You guys barely fought, you confided with each other like best friends, and to top it off, the sex was the amazing. You never had anyone in your life before that could take you to new heights like Jungkook could. Everything was perfect. . .

Too perfect.

It’s been a few months since you started noticing slight changes in him. He comes home late from work, barely talks to you, and even the idea of him touching you is far from imagination. At first, you chalked it up to exhaustion. You were well aware about the daily pressure he was under at work, and so you continued to silently be there for him in hopes of this phase passing by quickly. Even though you spent several nights curled up on your side of the bed and him on his side, you always tried to keep in mind that at least he was there.

That thought you held onto came crashing down recently when he was given a day off. Usually, these rare days were a cause for celebration between you two. You would spend the morning wrapped up in the sheets together only to later go out for a peaceful drive and wonder the cityscape. Yet, this time you simply woke up alone. You clutched your phone as you read a text from him saying to not wait up for him later because he would be spending the day with his friends. Tears threatened to pour down your cheeks, but you held them at bay.

It’s okay. You thought.

He’s just really stressed and needs to relieve some of the tension with his friends. He doesn’t always have to spend his day off with me.

You buried your sinking heart beneath these words, hoping to dull the aches and the signs. It went on like this for a couple of months, and you knew your heart couldn’t take it much longer.

One night, well past the time you would normally be asleep, you heard Jungkook come in from work. He scuffled through the kitchen at first, most likely getting something to eat as he was never home anymore when you would make dinner.

A weight on your chest pressed down further at this thought, making it harder to breathe. These past few months you barely slept or ate. You forced yourself out of your solidary bed each morning as Jungkook always left before the sun came up. While you were still meeting all your deadlines at work, your coworkers had begun to worry about you. Your sadness had brought a lackluster to your appearance, and the bags under your eyes only increased the deprivation look you were sporting most days. You were gradually withering away along with your relationship.

You lay there listening to the refrigerator doors close when you decide to finally confront the distance between you two. You were too physically and mentally weak to keep pretending. You hear him placing the dishes in the sink and padding to the bathroom in the hallway across from the bedroom you shared. As the shower begins to run, you feebly climb out of bed in your night gown and into the kitchen to finish cleaning and putting away his dishes. You turn off all the lights except for the one hanging above the kitchen table.

Soon, you hear the running water come to a stop, and Jungkook emerges from the bathroom. He runs a hand through his wet strands as he looks up to see your cowering form by the table.

“What are you doing still awake? You’re normally asleep by now.” He questions. At least you were able to fool someone that you were sleeping well. Your eyes climb from the floor to meet his. You draw in a deep breath; it was too late to back out of this now.

“I think we need to talk about whatever is going on. We—well at least I—can’t pretend any longer that things between us are okay.”

He sighs and shakes his hair before responding, “I wanted to wait until this weekend. . . but you’re right. We need to talk.” The expression on his face would be similar to those at a funeral home.

“You want to break up?” You mutter, barely holding eye contact. When a look of relief instead of surprise crosses his face, you know you had guessed correctly. You watch him shift uncomfortably, mulling over the best way to respond. You take this moment to scan his form. In your eyes stands the love of your life, still as beautiful as the day you first met. He quickly interrupts your train of thought,

“Look, I just—I think it’s for the best.”

“Do you still love me?” you wonder.

“Of course, I still love you. . .but no longer in the way you need me to.” His graze drops to the floor almost as fast as your heart does into your stomach. You felt the tears in your eyes but fought against them because in the end you knew this had to be the conclusion. Nonetheless, his words pierce your heart.

“When—” your voice came out hoarse. “When did you realize this?” You ask. Immediately a thousand thoughts flood your mind. Did he grow bored of you? Of your relationship? Did he meet someone else? Who was she? Did you know her? Is she prettier than you?

“N-No!” he’s quick to respond. As if reading your mind, he replies, “I haven’t meet anyone else if that’s what you’re wondering. I had been denying this for a while, but it finally settled in a month ago. I’m sorry I’ve waited for so long... I ah, I didn’t have the heart to say anything. I really did try to see if I could get over the feeling!”

His hands are flying around wildly at this point trying to collect an explanation for his bottled emotions.

“—but I’m sorry I can’t.”

I can’t.

The same words when you fall off your bike as a child. The same expression when you give up on understanding math in high school. The same feeling when you weren’t hired for your first job… and the last words of your four-year relationship.

The two of you sit in complete silence as you both accept the chasm in between. You don’t know what to say. You still love him, you’re still in love with him. He’s still the man you see in your future. How is one supposed to respond when the legs holding you up walk away? Your thoughts continue to stumble into chaos as you stare at old scuff marks on the wall. Unbeknownst to you, you’ve been shaking since the beginning of the conversation. You do know; however, that if you meet his once-loving doe eyes, you won’t be able to hold yourself together. With this in mind, you proceed to study the marks more intently, focusing on anything other than the cracking in your chest. He breaks the silence first,

“… I really was going to tell you this weekend. I’m planning on moving out, so you don’t have to worry about finding somewhere else to stay.”

Your eyes immediately flip upwards, “Where are you going to stay then?” You inquire.

“Oh, uh, I’ll be crashing with some friends for now. They have a spare room they said I could use until I find my own place.”

After examining his face, you can see your pain reflected in his expression as well. His shoulders sag, and you can guess that this hurts him almost as much as it hurts you. Almost. Your heart wishes that he had let you down slower, maybe giving you some time to slowly let go. You consider that if you had a few more weeks then you could adjust to his absence… but hadn’t he already done that for you? The past few months it was like living with the ghost of him. But this—this was different. This was final. Although you would always wish for one more day, you know that it’s not reality. You’ll both need to move on. Your thoughts tune back to the present in time to hear him confess,

“—I think it’s best if I leave sooner rather than later. I don’t want to—I can’t hurt you anymore. I think I’ll just grab a bag and head to my friends. I’ll come get the rest of my stuff this weekend.”

Jungkook begins to turn towards the bedroom when you rush across the living room. You grab him by the shoulder and turn him to meet him eye to eye.

“Please,” your voice broke, filling with desperation. “Please, j-just one more night. Hold me l-like you used to.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulder as a single tear slips down your cheek. His face softens as his eyes trace the journey of your tear. He raises his hand and cups your face gently, as if the slightest movement will tear you apart.

“We shouldn’t…” he mumbles. “It won’t make things any easier.”

“Please,” you cup his hand on your face. “Please, Jungkook.” More tears begin to make their arduous journey down your face. The desperation in your voice is humiliating, but at this point you only care about being in his arms one more time.

“I-If you're going to let me go, then give me this last night. Give me yourself for the last time. Love me until it’s over.” Your breath catches when his hold on your face tightens. You blink to clear away the tears as he gives a relenting sigh. Whether he was weary from fighting you or himself is a mystery that will forever remain trapped in the night. His gaze deepens as leans down to press his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath across your lips when he mutters,

“One last night. One last time because I still love you. I want you to remember this forever, but after tonight, you have to forget.”

He pulls away and slides his hand down your arm to intertwine your fingers. His hand dwarfs yours as he leads you to the bedroom. While you have been in this situation with him countless times, you cannot help but feel as if it is all new territory. It carries the air of the night the two of you first made love. The gravity weighing on you, however, floods your senses as you come to terms that this will be the last time. As soon as you cross the doorway of the bedroom, he turns you around and cups your jaw with both hands. He leans in close and walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. He slowly lays you down onto your back, never breaking eye contact. He hovers over you, his face only centimeters from yours, gazing deeply into your eyes. You see the indecision in his eyes, so you gather the courage and close the gap. At first, he doesn’t reciprocate the kiss. You slowly separate to gauge his reaction, but before you can, he grabs your waist to pull himself into you. His lips are soft and warm, filled with unspoken emotion. Not soon after, you trace your tongue across his bottom lip, asking a silent question. He answers immediately with a soft groan, granting access into his mouth. The feeling is disguised with the emotion of your first kiss, layered with the passionate love of four years, and revealed to be the burning out of the greatest star in your life.

He places his knee between your legs, pressing himself further into you. Your hands tease at the hem of his shirt to which he eagerly removes the clothing. Your small hands slowly trace his abs, retaining the memory of how he feels in your palms. At this action, his gaze suddenly darkens. He fists the end of your night gown and pulls it off your body. You lay bare except for your lace panties. He growls lowly at the sight and kisses you deeply like never before. With the passion between the two of you, it almost feels as if he is yours again. Almost. It is sweet, but it is absent of the love and longing he used to hold for you.

His lips descend across your jaw and down your neck, sucking small bruises in all the most sensitive parts. After four years, he knows your body as well as you do. His hands slide down across your curves to the delicate lace designs of your panties. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, and bites down on your delicate nub a little harshly, but you don’t have the time to think about it because he immediately follows this action by pushing your panties aside and rubbing circles onto your clit, drawing forth an involuntary moan. You close your eyes, once again trying to memorize every touch he gives you before it’s over. He releases your nipple with a pop and instantly diverts his attention to your other breast, all while his fingers continue to toy with your clit. You moan and grip his arms in response, but at this action, he withdraws his hand from where you need him most.

His mouth works his way off your breast, kissing down your stomach until he reaches your panties. His teeth grip onto the sheer fabric, and he pulls them down all the way until he throws them on the floor. He then returns and looks you in the eye as he caresses your thighs with his gentle lips.

“Please, Jungkook,” You moan out.

Without a second to lose, he begins to eat you out like a man starved. His tongue giving soft kitten licks, treating you like a bowl of milk. You can barely handle the sensation when he inserts two fingers into you, delivering a pleasant burn from the stretch. He doesn’t give you time to adjust as he begins pumping it in and out so aggressively you know you won’t last much longer.

“God, Jungkook” you gasp, lifting your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers. Not long after, the combination between his tongue and fingers brings you to finally snap. You moan his name like a prayer as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm. He finally ceases once he feels your body relax. Sweat rolls down your chest, heaving from the rapid breaths. He crawls upward, and kisses you hard, giving you a taste of yourself. You feel him hard against your thigh, so you grab his shoulders and flip him onto his back.

“My turn” you growl, meeting his hungry eyes and licking your lips.

You kiss his lips gently and deeply, savoring the feel of the man you love beneath you. You break away quickly as it only reminds you of what’s slipping from your grasp. You instead start trailing your lips down his neck, chest, and abs. On this you take your time, committing his body to memory. You stop kissing him when you reach the hem of his pants. He quickly resolves your pause by unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. His dick bobs against his abdomen as you lick your lips, seeing the red, angry tip from how hard he is. You wrap your hand around him and stroke him a few times before the need to taste him became too great. You lick the pre-cum collecting across the head before gradually sucking his dick into the warm cavern of your mouth. You set a fast rhythm, bobbing your head up and down, each time taking more of him into your throat. You glance up to see his head thrown back, sweat rolling down the expanse of his chest. From the curses and groans falling from his lips, you know you’re doing well. You resume your attention to pleasuring him when, growing impatient, he grabs your hair and forces you to take more. With the sudden force, you begin to gag around his dig. Jungkook looks down through heavy lids and almost finishes right then and there. With your hair through his fingers, saliva dripping down your chest, and throat closing around his cock, he can barely contain himself.

“Fuck" Jungkook moans. “I’m about to cum.”

At this, you immediately pull your mouth off his dick. You climb up his body until your hips are centered above his. You align himself with your entrance, gaze flicking up to his.

“I want you in me for the last time,” you confess as you slowly slide onto his cock. Your eyes squeezed tight, and you bit your lip to hold back a moan. You focus instead on the feel of him entering you. His hands grip your hips, creating small bruises into your sides. After adjusting to his large size, you begin to roll your hips across his, pressing your hands down on his chest for support. Your pace is too slow, and it is torturous to your dire need for him.

“Jungkook, please help" you moan. His grip on you tightens even more as he begins pounding up into you harder and faster. The pace he sets has you quivering above him shortly after. He continues ravaging you like a mad man, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Both of your grunts and moans fill the night as you truly love each other for the last time. You push your knees tighter around his hip, so you can feel him deeper inside of you.

Jungkook grabs your neck and pulls you down for a messy kiss. You clutch onto his shoulder as he impossibly increases the speed at which he pumps into you. Jungkook feels the change of pace bringing you tighter and tighter around him until you tumble over the ledge with him quickly following after. You scratch down his chest throwing your head back as you ride out your orgasms together. You close your eyes to hold back the tears as heavy breathing fills the silence of the apartment. As your high subsided, you had remembered that as soon as this is over, he will be gone.

You lay down beside him, feeling his lips as he gently lays a kiss to your forehead. Jungkook slides out of you and pads to the bathroom coming back with a towel to clean the both of you. After throwing the towel into the laundry, he picks his clothes off the floor and pulls them back onto his body. To your surprise, he turns to lay down beside you.

Jungkook examines your tear-stained features. You hold your breath, thinking maybe he changed his mind. Maybe this night reminded him of everything you are so desperately holding onto. He centers his gaze on yours, faces inches apart, as he softly whispers,

“You stole my heart four years ago, and I want you to know that it’ll always be in your possession. I will always love you…” He presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“…but I can’t love you the way you deserve. I hope you remember us, but soon forget me. I’m sorry.” Jungkook brushes your hair behind your ear while tears stream down your cheeks. You close your eyes as he rises and walks out of room; as he walks out of your life.

You wait until you hear the click of your front door to truly let go. You wrap yourself within your sheets, breathing in his lingering scent. Tears rubbed your skin raw as you finally confronted reality. Once your breathing leveled out, you were left with a single thought. He said you would always have his heart, always a piece of him. Why couldn’t he see that when he left, he took away yours as well?

#jungkook #bts jung jungkook #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #jk #jk smut #bts smut #btsclubsmut #bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook

[rhubarbbaby]

Strawberries and Art 3

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 5k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spent most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 3

You woke up to the exaggeratedly loud chirping of a bird that seemed to be sitting right on your window sill. What was it even doing there? Rude. Rolling to your side, the first rays of sunshine fell onto your face. Not wanting to open your eyes just yet you let the warmth linger on your face. As your consciousness slowly tore itself free from the claws of the dreams, you wouldn´t be able to remember in a second, you realized you were still wearing the jeans from last night. Last night…Last night…Jihoon. Suddenly everything that happened hit you like bricks.

Did Jihoon really walk you home? Had he really held your hand? For a moment you thought you were messing up remaining pieces of your dreams with reality but then you remembered the text he had sent you before you fell asleep. Prying your eyes open you looked at your phone. The text was still there, staring back at you, still unanswered. (You also had 4 unread messages from Jo but you couldn´t care less right now)

Unknown: I just got home. Goodnight, Sweetie. Don´t forget to drink lots of water!

Sweetie. You knew you wouldn´t be getting used to that soon. When he had called you Sweetie last night you felt so taken aback because maybe for the first time in your life, you had enjoyed a guy calling you by a pet name. He had sounded so honest, in a certain way even serious, he had sounded so different from all those boys who were calling girls by all those sickly sweet things just to get into their pants, belittling them in the process. He had been so incredibly considerate. The way his voice had seemed to have gotten a tad bit deeper when saying it, the way you could practically hear him smirking, it was sheer impossible getting used to something like that.

After you had saved his contact you stared at your phone. Simply seeing his name on your screen made your heart, not jump, but it did make a distinct little hop. With a big sigh you let yourself fall back onto your mattress. What crazy ass romantic movie parallel universe have you stumbled into? Meeting a guy you were interested in, was already a rare occurrence. But meeting a guy you were interested in, who was also showing interest in you (AND CALLED YOU SWEETIE) was something that only happened once in a blue moon.

You knew you had to send him a reply. It didn´t help that you were reading his message over and over again, hearing his voice in your head. You needed to focus. Just because you didn´t have to look him in the eyes, and didn´t have to actually form words with your mouth, just because you simply had to type it, you did only spend about 5 minutes coming up with a (you hoped) funny text.  

You: Hey! I fell asleep yesterday. With my clothes still on! Like I actually wore jeans to sleep. That´s like fucked up. Anyways, thank you for texting me :) I had so much fun last night.

After hitting send you instantly threw your phone onto your bed. You were scared of him answering right away. Scared but also excited but also scared. Giggling to yourself because you were aware of how dramatic you were handling the entire situation you decided to get up and start with your day. It was only eight and you made an agreement with yourself not to think about him until after breakfast because having a crush on a (extremely beautiful and funny and handsome and hot) boy who you had just met two days ago was ridiculous, or so you told yourself. Taking a shower, brushing your teeth, putting on clean clothes… your undertaking was going well, you hadn´t thought of him, at least not directly. You had thought of not thinking about him…and you counted that as a win. During breakfast you decided to check Jo´s messages.

Jo: Did you use condoms??

Jo: Did you get home safely?

Jo: Is he staying over?

Jo: Are you ok?

You couldn´t help but laugh at how excited she was about the whole situation. She probably had been annoying Hansol with it all evening. Poor man.

You: Yup I got home very safely. And no he didn´t stay over.

You: We had so much fun tho.

You: Did you get home safely?

She answered within two minutes.

Jo: Don´t you dare make this about me. I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING.

Jo: Did you kiss?

You: No we didn´t. But we held hands.

Jo: CUTE.  When will you see him again?

You: I don´t know yet. I hope soon.

Jo: I hope so too. I´m already planning the marriage.

You: omg stop it…LOL

Just after you had hit send, you felt your phone vibrate with a new text. Of course it was from Jihoon. Without an ounce of hesitation you practically threw your phone next to you on the couch. You did not want to look at it. Actually, you did. But you needed to physically prepare yourself for reading what he had messaged you. You could feel your heart oh so clearly in your chest. How ridiculous it was that you reacted this way just because of a goddamn text…Calm down. You took a deep breath in and out.

Before reading his new message (and it wasn´t just one!!!! There were three of them) you reread what you had last written.

You: Hey! I fell asleep yesterday. With my clothes still on! Like I actually wore jeans to sleep. That´s like fucked up. Anyways, thank you for texting me :) I had so much fun last night.

Deep breath in. And out.

Jihoon: Hahahahaha yes Y/N, that is fucked up.

Jihoon: But I´m pretty sure you still looked cute.

Jihoon: You wanna get lunch tomorrow after class?

HOLY FUCK. This was real. You just got asked on a date by one of the most beautiful boys you had ever seen. Yes, you had already held hands yesterday, but there had been alcohol involved and people do a lot of things when they´re drunk. But all of your past overthinking just turned out to have been utterly pointless because Jihoon wanted to see you again. And he had called you cute. Your entire face was burning and your stomach seemed to do some weird gymnastic exercises.

You did not have to think long before typing your answer.

You: I´d love that :)

Jihoon: Awesome. I´ll show you my favorite place.

He actually wanted to show you his favorite place. Your heart was still beating way too fast and the blush on your face was still very visible but at the same time you felt a calming warmth spread through your stomach. You remembered you had felt so comfortable talking to him last night and for some dumb cliché romantic movie reason you felt like you had already known him for years. And now he wanted to show you his favorite place. That was a big hell of a deal. You couldn´t stop smiling.  

After dumbly grinning at the ceiling for several seconds you scolded yourself. You couldn´t just be lying around all day daydreaming about a boy. Sighing you remembered that today, you had to finally start with your portrait assignment. It was already due on Wednesday. You needed it to be good. Your professor was very supportive and had been pushing you to become better. Disappointing her was the last thing you wanted to do. But you didn´t even know who you wanted to draw yet…some random celebrity was just boring…a family member maybe? But you had all drawn them before already. Burying your face in your hands you sat on your couch. After about fifteen minutes you reluctantly started sketching your mother´s face. You´ve drawn her face so many times already, it was nothing special. You weren´t satisfied with your choice at all but you couldn´t think of someone better at the moment.

When you realized it was already getting dark outside you stared down at the lines you had been working on for basically the entire day. You didn´t like it. Far back in your head you knew that other people would label your work as good, maybe even great, but you just couldn´t bring yourself to like it. The facial features you were trying to portrait just didn´t seem right to you. You only had so many good pictures of your mother and remembering every single wrinkle and mark on her face was harder than you thought. The way the lines were flowing over the paper didn´t look right, it didn´t look like you had drawn them. You were aware that every artist had days like this, but the deadline was next week and you simply didn´t have the time to start over.  Also you had a date tomorrow. How the fuck were you going to survive the next days?

Before going to bed you forced yourself to lay out the clothes you wanted to wear for tomorrow. You weren´t exactly a morning person and you knew you´d panic if you had to find an outfit to wear right after waking up. An outfit Jihoon was going to see you in…

You fell asleep thinking of tomorrow, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation making your stomach feel weird.

The first thing you did, after waking up the next day, was to check your phone:

Jihoon: You still up for lunch today?

Jihoon: 1pm in front of the arts building?

You: I´ll be there!

After having typed an answer, you got dressed, grabbed all your things and left your apartment. You weren´t one of those people who got up an hour earlier to do yoga or whatever bullshit normal people do in the morning. Every day you woke up only twenty minutes before your first lecture started. Every single second of sleep counted.

While you were walking you got a message from Jo.

Jo: You up for breakfast after the second lesson? You need to tell me everything!!!!

You knew she was probably already dying from curiosity. She was too nosy for her own good. But you had mercy.

You: Sure!

You were actually looking forward to telling Jo everything. You still couldn´t believe what had happened yourself, maybe it would become more real through finally saying everything out loud. Your first two lessons you spent listening to the professor talk about Paul Cézanne and, for some reason, reciting every last unnecessary detail of his private life. You decided that the only important piece of information from this lecture was that some of Cézanne´s landscape paintings were sort of pretty.

When you finally sunk down in the chair opposite of Jo´s you were already grinning. You simply could not wait for her reaction to everything. She immediately leaned forward while leaning on her elbows. “Start already” “Oh my god. Can´t I just relax for a second.” “NO.” You had to giggle at her urgency. “Alright, alright…”

After you had told her everything, from the long talk the two of you had had, over the way he had made you blush continuously, to when he had walked you home and had given you his phone number she just said, “That´s so unbearably cute and romantic it´s disgusting.” You couldn´t help but laugh out loud at her remark. “You two are so sickeningly romantic I wanna die. Why can´t you be as cool as me and Hansol?” she was grinning.   “First of all, we´re not a couple and second of all, you two are at least as disgusting!” you were laughing. “You realize mine and Hansol´s first date was when I drank too much and he had to hold my hair while I was throwing up?” “Yeah. I know the story.”, you were still laughing. She continued anyway “And then he drove me home. And he kissed me even though I had just thrown up minutes ago. Ok, now that I think of it, maybe our first date was even more disgusting. I´ll shut up.” Both of your laughter was carried through the entire cafeteria. The other people, who were most likely just trying to have a calm morning were probably already, annoyed by the both of you but you couldn´t care less. “Also. I kinda maybe have a lunch date with him later.” “You´re kidding!!!!!” You just shook your head and smiled. “Oh my god,  I´m dying this is the cutest shit. I´m sooo happy for you. Are you nervous?” “So fucking much. But I can´t wait to see him again.”

The rest of your classes passed rather quickly. Not being the biggest fan of auditory learning you were happy about it, but at the same time you couldn´t help getting more nervous every time the hand of the clock on the wall moved. Rationally you knew you were being silly. There was nothing to worry about. You were only going on a date with the most attractive guy you´ve ever seen, who is able to make you blush with just a raise of his eyebrow. There was totally nothing to worry about. Fuck.

When you classes had ended you still had fifteen minutes before you were meeting Jihoon. You were so nervous, your hands were shaking and you didn´t have the faintest clue how you would be able to form a straight sentence later. You slipped through the door into the girl´s bathroom. You washed your hands with cold water while staring at your own face in the mirror. The last time you had spoken to him, you had been drunk, there was no doubt the alcohol had helped you with your anxiety. Today you were on your own. Why did you always have to be so nervous? With one long breath and a last look in the mirror, you were actually happy with how your hair fell today; you pushed yourself away from the sink and made your way to your meeting place.

Through the glass front of the building you could see him standing next to that weird sculpture, which the seniors from last year had designed, in front of the building. He was looking at his phone. Every step you took made you even more nervous (how was that even possible?). How were you going to greet him? Hug him? Shake his hand?? NOoo, what the fuck that´d be way too formal. Why were you thinking bullshit like that? You took a deep breath, put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and opened the door. He still hadn´t seen you.

“Hey.” You called softly, loud enough for him to realize it was meant for him. “Hey you.” He looked up and if you weren´t mistaken, his eyes lit up when he saw you, a sparkle that you were sure you could watch all day. But maybe it was just the sun reflecting in his eyes (it was not). You were now standing in front of him, unsure what to do. He smiled at you; put his phone away in his back pocket and then he pulled you into a hug. Your first hug. And holy fuck, a hug shouldn´t be a big deal but it definitely felt like it. It wasn´t one of those hugs people gave because they thought it was expected of them. His hug was tight and you could actually feel his hands on your back. Jihoon´s embrace was so soft, so affectionate. You actually felt like you were stuck in one of Claude Monet´s paintings. Gentle, colorful, overwhelming, so beautiful, yet realistic and real. You smiled, thinking of that comparison. Neither one of you noticed the students leaving the building smiling at you because the hug was obviously too long for a hug to be considered normal. He felt so warm and safe, and when you wrapped your arms around him even tighter you briefly touched his hair, and goddamn it, it was so soft.

“It´s good to see you again.” He finally mumbled against your shoulder. “You too.” He pulled away and looked at you. He was grinning like a kid in a candy store, his eyes had disappeared and small wrinkles had appeared around his nose. It was absolutely precious. You had no choice but to smile back at him.

“You hungry?” he finally broke the silence. “A bit.” At that moment your stomach growled. (It must´ve been destiny) “A bit? I see…,” he laughed. Your cheeks flushed with a light tone of red. “Come on.” he took your hand, not giving you enough time to be embarrassed about the situation. “Where are we going?” you asked. “I promised I´d show you my favorite place.” He gently started pulling you away from the building while still looking at you, smiling. Your body still felt like there was electricity running through your veins and your face must have been still flushed red but it felt so right to hold his hand. You smiled back.  

He took you to a little ramen restaurant, close to town. The front door seemed so inconspicuous that you had probably walked past it without noticing it in the past. As the two of you entered he was still holding your hand. He led you through the interior of the restaurant, where some people were already having lunch. You knew you already liked the place when you saw how diverse the clientele was. At one table sat two boys, approximately your age, stuffing their mouths full of Ramen, while at another table two businesswomen seemed to have a heated conversation. Jihoon dragged you past them, and only stopped when you were standing in a small backyard with a few tables of which only one of them was occupied by an elderly couple who were sharing a plate of what looked like Gyoza.

You chose the table for two that was the furthest away from the door and took a seat. On the way here, you had been overly focused on Jihoon, on how tightly he pressed your fingers, how he occasionally stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, the quick glances he threw at you, your undivided attention had been all on him but now that you were sitting here in this absolutely adorable backyard, you allowed your brain to briefly focus your attention on your surroundings. Climbing plants were growing up the wall of the house, carrying small pretty blue blossoms, the blue of the flowers looking especially pretty in front of the beige colored wall plaster.  In the corner, where two walls from two different buildings met each other, the blue and beige mixed with a white from the neighboring wall and a light pink of some petals that were growing on bushes that were planted there. The colors alone went so beautifully together you just couldn´t help but stare. When you saw the little clay-figure of a frog in a suit sitting on the ground, as if he had to guard those bushes, you had to giggle.

“What is it?” Jihoon interrupted your thoughts. He was beaming at you as if you had just found the cure for cancer. You couldn´t have known it, of course, but Jihoon would´ve been able to watch you look at those flowers for hours on end. He was sure the way your eyes started to sparkle when looking at something beautiful was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Nothing really. It´s just, that frog there looks so adorable.” “What frog?” he turned his head to look at the figure himself and then continued “Oh that frog. That´s just Ferdinand.” As you were laughing at his remark, he smiled fondly at you, proud of himself for being the one bringing those sounds out of you. “Ferdinand? You serious?” you grinned, finally having caught your breath again. “Yep. He´s like my best buddy. We always have very interesting conversations whenever I come here.”   “Ferdinand does seem like an intellectual to me, I bet your talks are always incredibly exciting.” At that Jihoon joined your laughter. His laughter reminded you of vacation, of secluded beaches, of evening sun, of a loaded ice cream cone, of not worrying. “Can I tell you something.” you already knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn´t going to say anything serious. “Always.” “I don´t even know Ferdinand. This is the first time I noticed him. We´re basically strangers. Hell, I don´t even know if his name is Ferdinand.” Your stomach already hurt from laughter while you held your hand in front of your mouth, trying not to laugh out loud again. “Jihoon, you are so silly.” “Oh, I know sweetie, I know.” he smiled knowingly, almost cocky as he leaned back into his chair and locked his arms behind the back of his head. You were still laughing but you had no choice but being You stunned over how easily he could go from being the sweetest and cutest human being to making you blush like crazy. It was simply not fair.

“So tell me, how was your day?” he came to your rescue. He was still smiling, enjoying the effect he had on you. When you started talking, it took you a few sentences to gain back your confidence and certainty in your voice. Your conversation was light and easy but not at all shallow. He listened to you attentively and even asked for details, you seriously felt like you were telling him the most exciting and fascinating stories he has ever heard. Maybe you really were living in a romantic movie now because he honestly was making you feel like you were the most important girl on earth right now. You only were interrupted by the waiter who quickly took your order. Talking to Jihoon felt so familiar while at the same time not. You did have the feeling of having known him for years, but you also felt like you didn´t know anything about this boy sitting in front of you. Both in a good way. He made you comfortable and curious. And because people who have a crush are blind to some things you wondered if he was feeling the same way about you.

When the waiter had dropped off the two plates of food in front of you, and you both had just taken your first bite, neither of you had to say anything. You even closed your eyes briefly and let out a short sigh. The food really was that good.

“It tastes like heaven, doesn´t it?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “It really does. How have I never been here, I´ve been missing out on this for so long.” You sighed dramatically which made him grin. “Thank god you met me, huh?” Your gazes met, and although his remark had definitely contained a hint of cockiness, he now looked at you, as gently as if you were the most beautiful, most delicate thing he had ever seen in his life. Looking into his eyes, your heart skipped a beat, and even though you were flustered, you could simply not turn your eyes away. Because, yes, he was right, you were really happy you had met him. “Thank you so much for showing me this place. Seriously.” You finally said, your voice way too hushed to sound confident. “You´re very welcome, Y/N. I´m happy you´re here with me.”

You quickly fell back into a conversation about music. You absolutely loved listening to him talk about his passion. He got so excited talking about his work and when you mentioned that he finally had to show you some of his work, he even got a little shy. As fellow artist you understood the insecurity that came with showing other people personal works. Nothing was more relatable to you than the fear of not being able to convey to other people what you had tried so hard to express through your art, or the fear people wouldn´t even understand your kind of expression. But you also knew that any kind of art is always, in a way, a portrait of the artist himself. And when you were looking at Jihoon, listened to the way he talked, you already knew that his music was going to be just so goddamn beautiful.

The minutes you had spent talking to him had disappeared like the wind carries away seeds from a dandelion clock. The time had gone by so quickly, you hadn´t even realized that the two of you had been talking for over two hours. When the waiter came with your bill, you wanted to grab your wallet, because fuck gender roles but Jihoon was faster. You looked at him aghast, ready to tell him he really should´ve let you pay. The words already on your lips, Jihoon didn´t even let you start “I know, I know”, he held his hands up defensively “You wanted to pay and I´m sorry, well actually I´m not…” he laughed. “You didn´t even give me the time to look at the bill!” you were smiling now too but you still tried to keep your tone at least somewhat serious. “I´m sorry, sweetie.” He took your hand “What if I just let you pay next time?” You felt like the floor had been pulled from under your feet (and you were still sitting on your chair). He really wanted to see you again. You weren´t completely oblivious (only a bit) and you knew the date had been going well, but hearing him say those words was a totally different story. You nodded; he was still smiling at you. “Yes, I can live with that.” Your voice was a bit shaky. “Deal.” He was still holding your hand over the table, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

He shortly looked down before posing his question “Ok so the thing is, I really enjoyed this and I kinda wanna keep talking to you so, do you wanna go for a walk?” And fuck you really really really really wanted to. Like REALLY. But the thought of your portrait assignment made you hesitate. You knew you still had so much work to do, hell you probably had to redo everything you drew yesterday.   “I…” you started when he cut you off. “You don´t have to, Y/N. I don´t want to pressure you into anything.” he smiled softly but you could see a tiny bit of disappointment changing his features, he must´ve noticed you were a bit hesitant to answer him. 

“No! I´d really love to. I love talking to you too. But I should go home to work on an assignment. It´s due on Wednesday and I´m kinda panicking because I haven´t even really started yet.” You looked down at the table where your hands were intervened. “Oh I get it. What´s the assignment?” “Basically I just need to draw a portrait of someone but I really really want it to be good. I started drawing my mom yesterday but I don´t like it. I think I don´t have enough good photos to draw her realistically and I´m not that great at drawing from memory.” “So you basically need someone to model for you.” You laughed softly, “I guess so.” “Why don´t you draw me then?” he winked at you. You blinked. Once, twice. Had he actually winked at you?? This man was going to be the death of you. Your eyes slightly widened, a blush was creeping up your neck again “You´re kidding.” “I am. Unless…” he was grinning from ear to hear. He really was enjoying your embarrassment way too much. “Also I´d say my face is pretty.” If he wasn´t holding your hand you would´ve tried hiding your face but that wasn´t an option now. “It is.” You stammered. “Did you just call me pretty?” he smirked. That was the last straw. You couldn´t take it anymore. You pulled your hand out of his grasp and hid your blushing face. “Maybe.” “I see. But I do think your face is even prettier.” He chuckled. You looked at him, that goddamn cocky grin on his slips. He knew what he was doing. Gathering all your left confidence you replied, “I can´t draw myself though.” “That´s why you should be drawing me.” “Wait, are you actually being serious?” “I´m not not serious.” He was still grinning but you could hear the earnestness in his voice. “I don´t even know what to say…” “Just say: yes Jihoon I´d love to draw your pretty face and I´ll even make your eyes a bit bigger so you´ll be even prettier than in real life.” You momentarily forgot about your heart beating this fast and your still cherry red face. You loved his eyes and how they disappeared whenever he was smiling. “What? No! Your eyes are perfect just the way they are.” “I appreciate the compliment, sweetie.” He smiled warmly at you. “But I really think we should go now, you still have to draw my portrait today.” You giggled. “I didn´t even agree yet!” He was getting up from his chair “Oh come on,” as soon as you were standing up too he reached for your hand again, “no one would turn down an offer like this.” “Jihoon, you are so full of yourself.” you laughed heartily. He over dramatically clutched his heart with his free hand. “Ow, don´t hurt me like that Y/N when I´m just trying to trick you into spending more time with me.” His blatant honesty made you speechless. You just looked at him and if you weren´t completely mistaken a tiny bit of red was covering his cheeks now too. “Fine. I´ll draw you.” “I am disproportionately delighted to hear that.” You giggled at his choice of words while squeezing his hand a bit tighter. And then the two of you were walking to your apartment, side by side, hand in hand, wearing matching grins.

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

#jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen ff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #kpop ff #rhubarbbabywrites

[timelord-winchester-22b]

Brave; Part 3

So I realized it’s been ages and I still haven’t posted the last one, whoops. Anyway, here it is, finally.

Wanrings: uhm, panic attack, mentions of torture, I dunno, angst

Word count:1914

This is for @spectacular-spiderboy‘s 600 follower celebration writing challenge. And it’s about damn time the last part came out. Not entirely sure I didn’t miss deadline with this one...

brave adjective Having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear or difficulty. Having or showing courage.

You were sat on the bed, pressed into the corner, when the door opened again. You closed your eyes and bit off an involuntary whimper. He wasn’t supposed to come back yet, you were still broken. This time it hadn’t been as bad as some of the others. Mostly bruises and soreness all around, but you were aware of what was likely a very deep gash across your cheek, and you could feel blood down your stinging arm as well as there, but you had stopped really looking at them. You had enough freedom of movement to crawl back up onto your bed and you thought you might actually fall asleep instead of passing out. You had tried to stay awake a little longer with the thought that he didn’t return until you were healed. It seemed it hadn’t worked.

“(Y/N)?” When he spoke, his voice wavered and he’d barely finished when the sound seemed to cut off. Your eyes opened slowly, glancing upwards if only in confusion. He took a step forward and you flinched. He stopped.

“Please, don’t” You pleaded in a whisper. “No more. Leave me alone”

“(Y/N)” He repeated, the sound of your name barely a whisper. “What are you… oh” His expression changed and it just looked so much like him that you didn’t want to see it. You preferred the cold look he usually wore, the one that didn’t look like the Doctor, didn’t speak at all normally. Not the times when he decided to go all out. Those were the worst. Because it made it so much harder to convince yourself it wasn’t him. He took another step and you tried to press yourself further into the wall behind you, to no prevail.

“No, (Y/N), I…” He stopped, looking so lost and hurt.

“Stop it” You told him tearily. “Don’t do that, don’t act like you’re really him”

“I am” He pleaded. You shook your head.

“You can’t expect me to believe that every time”

He shook his head slowly, and you could swear it looked like tears in the corners of his eyes. But you’d seen that before.

“(Y/N), I won’t hurt you I promise” He tried, his voice faultering as he spoke. “Just… let me prove it to you. Please, give me one little chance, just…” He held up his hands like a surrender as he started slowly towards you once again. You tensed but watched him approach. There wasn’t really anything you could do about it anyway. He reached out for your hand slowly, giving you time to see what he was doing. You remained still. His fingers brushed yours and you sucked in a sharp breath. He tugged lightly at your fingers, pausing when he realised your hands weren’t empty.

His mouth fell open in shock and you saw a tear fall from his eye when what he noticed the spirit stone, dull in your hands.

“Oh…” He sighed sadly. “Oh my beautiful, brave girl… what have they done to you…?” His hand wrapped around your other hand and after a few moments, your slow mind came to realise something.

“Cold…” You muttered, frowning. He glanced up from your hands at this word, his gaze so full of sadness now showing just a sliver of hope. “Your… your hands are cold”

“Yeah, they are” He nodded, seeming to have an idea. He released your hand from his own, bringing it towards him just slow enough to not startle you. He rested your hand on the left side of his chest and you felt the beat of his heart. He paused a moment before moving your hand to the other side of his chest. You felt it then, and you knew it for sure. Because there was a second beat beneath your hand. You glanced upwards, you eyes meeting his.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor smiled. The stone in your hands began to glow, if only barely.

The Doctor got you out of the room that had been all you’d seen in so long. You’d almost forgotten anything else existed. He led you along with your hand in his and you focused on the feel of his skin, cool against your own. The feeling that told you it was truly the Doctor. He spoke to you in calm, soothing tones as you made your way back to the Tardis. You ran into no one in the halls, and you wondered distantly what could have happened to them.

The Tardis doors opened with a creaking sound and it stirred something inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. That sound your mind associated with something new, usually wonderful. A sense of… there was a word. A word you were forgetting, and something inside you felt that it was important.

The view that met you on the other side of the door was one that you had very nearly forgotten, to your horror. But it still filled you with a feeling of safety, the same one it always had. You found yourself wishing it was enough, because it still couldn’t chase off the feeling of fear. Knowing that all there was to existence was pain. You tried to push that thought aside, tried to remind yourself that it was only like that in the room you had left behind. It didn’t help much.

Your hand was released and a moment later the room around you shuddered and a loud grating sound filled the air. You gasped, falling back into the railings behind you, looking around with wide eyes.

“It’s okay” That soothing voice called to you. The Doctor pulled one last lever on the console and hurried over to you. You closed your eyes quickly, unwilling to see the face that had been the one to hurt you for so long.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just the Tardis, she’s moving us someplace safe” The calming voice explained. “You remember the Tardis, don’t you?” You nodded slowly. After a moment you opened your eyes again, knowing within the logical part of your mind that you’d have to look at him eventually. You’d have to remember somehow, that this man wouldn’t hurt you. Had to get used to that face being the one to protect you. He was your… friend. That was it, the word was friend.

The Doctor moved slowly to hold out a hand for you.

“Lets go get you checked out, okay?” He hummed softly. You nodded slowly, taking the offered hand and letting him lead you down the halls. He opened one door after a bit and started to walk in. You took one glance at the white room past him and felt panic rise in you. You pulled your hand from his, stumbling back into the wall of the hallway. You were already hyperventilating and had tears streaming down your face when he’d turned to see why you had pulled away.

“Hey, hey, hey” The Doctor called in his soft tone, holding his hands up in a surrender as he stepped in front of you. “It’s okay, it’ll all okay now, I just need to check you out, patch you up a little” You shook your head quickly.

“I’m not going in there. I’m not going back in there!” You insisted.

“Back…?” He frowned worriedly, glancing behind him. Realisation crossed his face and he closed the door before turning back to you.

“You’re okay (Y/N), no one is going to hurt you, alright? Just breathe for me okay? That’s it, nice and slow” He nodded encouragingly when your breathing evened out. “Alright. Tell you what, the Tardis is gonna fix up the med bay for us right now, so it’s not so scary, okay? Then we can have you looked after properly, okay?” You nodded slowly, but couldn’t help the twinge of fear you still felt when he took your hand and opened the door again.

This time, as you entered, you noted that the walls seemed to match with the walls in the console room. The coral theme continued and you couldn’t help but be intrigued with the way the blue painted on the walls contrasted the yellowed parts. You held up the stone in your hand, comparing the color with the slightest of smiles.

The Doctor got you to sit up on the bed now covered in blue sheets and made quick work of your sore limbs and the cuts you had barely paid any attention to. You were looking over the healed scar as he put away whatever it was he had been using. You weren’t paying that much attention, a little lost in your own mind. But now you were fully focused on the long line down your forearm.

“There’s a scar” You said quietly. The Doctor looked over at you.

“Yeah, there would be. But I can fix that for you, so-”

“No” You shook your head slowly. He paused, frowning slightly. “Nothing ever scarred in that room” You told him slowly. “I want to keep it. I want it to be real, so I know everything was” You looked up at him but quickly looked away, remembering too late which face it was you were looking at. “If that makes sense”

“That makes perfect sense” The Doctor assured you, walking over. He took your hand again, and you felt comfort in the coolness of his skin. The affirmation that it was really him. This man was your friend, he was the one who’d made your life so worth living when you’d met, what now seemed such a long time ago. You wondered to yourself if he could do it again. How had he done it last time?

“Adventure” You found yourself mumbling.

“What?”

You looked up, meeting his eyes and looking at the one part that held all the compassion and gentleness you could see. The side that the fake could never properly capture. This side was safe to see. This was the side you saw with that word you had been looking for. With adventures.

“Let’s go on an adventure” You suggested, a smile spreading slowly across your features. He smiled brightly at the familiar words from you. You glanced downwards as a light caught your eyes, and you found the stone shining with a stronger light than it ever had. Stronger for having been broken.

You were brave. Spirit stones tell no lies.

Ah look, I finally posted the last bit. Do you like the ending? I like the ending. All is well. Adventures and such.

#doctor who x reader #x reader #doctor who reader insert #reader insert #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #david tennant #Ten #doctor x reader #ANGST #heyo it's finally finished #I'm no good at posting #saides600wc #writing challenge

[tintriestotell]

Pagkatapos kong sumablay

It has been over a year since graduation and a lot has happened since. As my gap year comes to an end, here’s my (poor) attempt to string words together on how it went.

So, what happened after I transferred the sablay from my right shoulder to the left?

I looked around and saw wide, genuine smiles from my batch mates. It was a great run with you, PH 2013. Here’s to serving more communities, always in all ways.

I looked for my parents and I was happy to see them proud. (Yes, Ma. I saw you wipe that tear.) After the ceremony, my dad had his hands full with five bouquets, one for me and for each of my college best friends. (Thanks, Daddy.) All that followed were greetings, hugs, some tears, photos everywhere.

And then, I went home – to the people I considered family for four years in the university. The remaining days were filled with graduation parties, celebrations, beach trips, getaways, all before we had to go our separate ways. [s/o ASS(S)U]

And then, I went home – to South Cotabato. I was welcomed with open arms by my family. I went to every family gathering I could go to, to make up for all the times I wasn’t able to attend because I was in Iloilo. I swear, every birthday, debut, anniversary, wedding. Tangina, you name it, I was there.

Of course, there were –

Hugs and handshakes

“Congrats” and “so proud of you’s”

But, I wasn’t saved from all the –

Graduate ka na, kelan ka magtatrabaho?

Si *name*, hindi nga UP pero may trabaho agad

Abi ko mag-med ka?

Truthfully, I went home – to explore what Public Health has to offer. There were opportunities too great, too hard to say no to, but, unfortunately, too far from home, so I had to let them go. I was set to find work in SC so I could be closer to my family. My patience was tested as I waited in line at job fairs, applied for clerical positions, sent a ton of emails, only to get rejected because of various reasons.

Wala abi position para sa field mo, sorry.

We need experience.

Hija, we have an age requirement.

Kailangan kasi may lisensya ka para sa job na ‘to.  

So, I went home – to the friends I’ve had since childhood. I had all the time to catch up with them, and celebrations were in order.

Sleepovers!

Dinner outs!

Road trips!

But, the hype... well, it’s not always there.

From celebratory toasts to drinking the pressure away

From graduation speeches to drunk conversations of what to do next

From excited phone calls at 7am to breaking down at 2am

So, every time I went home – to our small town, to the familiar comfort of our house and the people in it, I wanted rest. It felt really great to be with the ones I love most for 24 hours in a day/7 days a week, but at the same time quite weird.

/Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think it’s safe to say that I share the same sentiments with those who’ve went away for some time and went back home/

I’ve lived alone for the past four years and it has taught me to be more independent. So when I went back home, it felt unsettling that I was always being tended to, always being asked on how I was doing, and always, always being around people. How weird and at the same time wonderful, to be asked what I wanted to eat for breakfast, and to wake up and actually have breakfast on the table. I wanted rest, and I got it. But, going back home also meant going back to responsibilities, obligations, and expectations.  

Hatid/sundo mo muna..

Duty ka anay palihog kay kulang staff

Ihabol pasa ang permits

Bakit ka pala hindi nag-engineer?  

:)

For quite some time, I think my parents were worried about me, along with everything that has been going on. They were wary when I told them about my change of plans during my last year in college, my decision to go back home after graduating, my constant search for something I don’t even know.  I questioned my choices, reflected on my relationships with the people around me, and dreaded each passing day that I doubted myself.  

Three months after graduation, I was still unemployed. Now, it might sound so petty complaining about this, but I know that I wanted to work – to serve back. I was scared; it felt like I was losing time. By then, I was starting to realize that maybe I was meant to focus somewhere else – study for an upcoming exam, help my parents out, rest. So that’s what I did– duty in the day, read concepts at night. I made plans with friends and family for the remaining months, booked plane tickets, planned trips, prepared documents, etc. It was already October, and I was driving around SC, going into offices, meeting people, passing permits, when I got a call.

“Are you employed? If not, drop by the Provincial Health Office. DOH has something for you.”

And when I thought everything was falling apart, it was actually falling into place. I was happy and scared at the same time, I felt like I was going to burst. After a serious talk with my parents, I visited the Rural Health Unit, signed the contract and started first thing Monday.

So technically, I went home – to a new one, welcomed by a new family. I was deployed in another municipality’s rural health unit.

Evaluations and presentations

Fieldwork and local health board meetings

My childhood dream is to be a doctor and admittedly, I took BS in Public Health as my pre-med course. When I was choosing which course to take for college, I realized that every course would be hard, so I might as well take one close to my heart. I remember during our first year orientation, one of our professors told us that PH is not a pre-med course. But, four years in BSPH and I knew I made the right choice. Being in UP opened my eyes to society’s realities, most especially in our healthcare. This journey led me to advocacies and opportunities that strengthened the want and need to keep PHighting for the cause. I postponed my med school plans to know more about the system firsthand. No words can ever describe how thankful I was for the opportunity that DOH-HRH gave.

I came across this quote by Mahatma Gandhi, it stated: “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” I came to realize that this rang true.

However, just when I was starting to get to know the personnel and other health staff, just starting to get the hang of the job, when a whole new plot twist came my way.  

Apparently, my parents wanted me to take the licensure exam. I was hesitant, of course because I was not sure if I could pass. At the same time, NMAT results were out and I needed to apply to medical schools. Some had really early deadlines. I was stuck in SC and cannot personally process my documents.  My parents were bothered because we barely see each other in the house. My friends are always offering to have dinner or drive me to work and I appreciate their concern. I was juggling doing everything in my gap year that I guess it was taking a toll on me.

“Unsa man ning bataa nga ni uy, dili ka kabalo mupahuway?”

“Kath, mata mo ay, dalom na gid.”

“Uso matulog, girl.”

I was supposed to renew my contract with DOH, when my parents brought up MTLE again. It was January, and local review centers didn’t accept students anymore since the licensure exam is already on March. This was a very hard decision for me to make, but when I found a review center that opened a last section, I took the risk.

For a while, I had to go MIA – deactivated Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, the usual. Only a handful of people knew about my whereabouts. I was trying to avoid the weight, the pressure of people knowing that I was studying for the boards. As a PH grad, it was harder for me to study the Med Tech subjects. My review classmates were re-viewing the concepts while I was still just learning them. And I know studying in college was hard, but the pressure that MTLE puts on you, grabe beh. Iba. Di ako makatulog. There were assessment exams, simulated exams; I was having a difficult time processing everything because I can’t even reach the review center’s passing rate. At the same time, I was processing my med school applications, going into interviews, changing review schedules so I can work my way around both.

A few days before the MTLE, medical schools started to release the results for qualified applicants. I remember how happy I was to receive emails and see my name on lists. It was the push that I needed to get through. It felt like a thorn was removed from my chest.

During MTLE, believe it or not, I fell asleep during the second subject. Honestly, it was *that* difficult and I was uncertain if I could still pass. The next few days felt like torture as we waited for the results. But things started looking up when I got a call from my best friend, greeting me with “hello, RMT”  Legit one of the happiest moments of my life.

And then, I went home – back to SC where I celebrated the victory with my family and friends.  I got to visit the RHU and I remember how heartwarming it felt when they told me they were proud of me. I spent time with my family again, celebrated my dad’s 50th. My gap year was slowly coming to an end.

I went home – to UP. I can’t help but feel sentimental when I got my diploma. I personally thanked my professors for their recommendation letters, dropped by the laboratories to say hi to the staff, took photos with Oble, and walked around campus. Masaya akong pinaglaban kita, UP. Masaya akong pinili kita, PH.

It was already June when I’ve finally decided on which medical school to go to. If you asked me this time last year, I never would have imagined myself here. Let’s just say that PH reeled me in. July was filled with transition from gap year to medicine proper. I’ve traded seascapes and mountains for cityscapes and skylines. It’s something new, yet something familiar, too.

In the past year, I got to catch sunrises and chase sunsets, let myself get lost, crossed oceans, trekked mountains, met people, got to know myself more, and followed my internal compass that was pointing north. I may have taken the long way home, and the route is not always the scenic one, but it sure was worth it. I’m still scared of what the future holds, but I learned that things may not always go my way, and that’s okay.

This year, ahh this year, taught me that plans may change, but the goal remains the same.  

And now, I’m going to medical school. This will be my home for the next few years, whether I like it or not. It’s funny how this universe works, but I’m happy that the road still led me to you, Public Health. Thank you for your warm welcome, ASMPH. Let’s #23iumphAsOne.

Malayong lupain, amin mang marating, di rin magbabago ang damdamin.

No matter where I go, I will never forget the lessons I learned from you, UP.  You were there when my eyes were opened, when my heart was changing skin. You taught me that we are only able to achieve great things because we take risks.  We are aware of the possibility that we might fail to achieve what we set out to do, but we do it anyway. You taught me that life may knock you down, and you will hit rock bottom. When that happens, the only way is up.

Pagkatapos kong sumablay, dama ko ang saya at pasa ko rin ang bigat na nasa balikat ko. The sablay is something we wear with pride, but at the same time, humility. It’s an achievement, and also a reminder of our responsibility to serve the people.

Pagsilbihan ang taong bayan, sa kahit anong paraan, sa kahit anong larangan.

#UP #sablay #ASMPH #medschool

[lost-n-stereo]

my only wish this year (it’s you)

[AO3] 

A/N: It’s finally finished! These are the last two chapters but you can read the entire thing on tumblr HERE or on AO3 at the link up there. Thanks to everyone that has read/reviewed/liked/commented on this fluffy little fic. I really hope you all enjoyed it!

chapter 4

The week after Christmas is a blur of getting to know this man that already knows everything about her.

She finds out that he loves chocolate chip cookies but never with milk. He likes them with orange juice which is basically the grossest thing she’s ever heard. He’s fluent in three languages, knows more about history than anyone she’s ever met and can solve a Rubik’s Cube in under five minutes.

They spend their nights wrapped up in each other, his leg tucked in between hers and his head usually resting between her breasts. It’s as natural as breathing and every single night she goes to sleep terrified that when she wakes up the next morning she’ll be alone. There’s no way that this is permanent. She’s too happy, too content, and as great as it is, it still doesn’t feel real.

But every morning, there he is. Brown messy curls and his reading glasses askew as he reads from whatever book is sitting on their nightstand. She has grown to love the feel of his morning stubble brushing against her cheek when he kisses her good morning. His off key singing when he cooks her breakfast is endearing and when he makes love to her it’s like he’s setting her on fire from the inside out.

The last day of December starts with a snow flurry and Clarke holds a cup of hot chocolate in her hands as she watches kids playing in the park across the street from her apartment building.

“They’re cute,” Bellamy says when he comes up behind her, his nose cold on her neck when he presses a kiss to her shoulder.

Clarke nods and lets out a little sigh when he nibbles the skin behind her ear. “You’re insatiable.”

She can feel his chuckle against her entire body. “Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” she whispers as she turns around in his arms. “I love it.”

“And I love you,” he says before capturing her lips with his but she holds up a hand before he can take it any further.

“We’ve barely left the apartment all week,” she giggles when he bites her bottom lip and tugs. “It’s New Year’s Eve. What do you want to do?”

Bellamy turns her back around so he’s standing behind her again and holds her close against his front. “Nothing. I just want to sit on the balcony at midnight, my arms around my girl and a good bottle of wine to split between the two of us.”

Clarke sighs happily and leans back in his arms. “Sounds like heaven.”

***

A heavy weight sits on her shoulders all day and she can’t figure out why.

Nothing is different than the last few days. They eat lunch at the dining room table, their legs intertwined underneath, and she snorts into her coffee when he does a spot on impression of Raven. They watch reruns of Friends and The Office until her sides hurt from laughing so much.

“Do you think something can be too perfect?”

She’s laying on the sofa with her feet in his lap and he tickles her heel as he ponders her question.

“That’s a little random. Explain?”

She shrugs and twists so her toes are running up the outside seam of his jeans. “I don’t know,” she admits. “Like this, us. Do you ever feel that it’s too good to be true? Like if we close our eyes for too long we’ll wake up and it’ll just be…”

He pokes her foot with his finger when she doesn’t elaborate. “It’ll just be what?”

“Gone.”

The word hangs between them and she wishes like hell she could just take it back. This is her life, at least for now, and she should be enjoying it, not making it awkward with random philosophical questions.

Bellamy holds out his hand for her and she rolls her eyes a little before letting him pull her across the couch.

“Clarke, I don’t know or care if this is too good to be true.” He pushes her hair out of her face and drops a kiss to her temple. “All I know is that I am happier with you than I am when I’m without you. I don’t want to lose that feeling. Ever.”

“Me either.”

They make love on the couch with the TV playing softly in the background and the snow falling steadily outside.

*** Midnight feels like a deadline.

She can feel it in her bones, deep inside where her intuition lies. Something is off and she doesn’t want to believe it but she knows that it’s true.

Tonight is their last night.

Even though she can feel the clock ticking, like she’s some fucked up version of Cinderella, she doesn’t want it to change anything between them. She makes them a simple dinner with big glasses of wine that she spent way too much money on. They settle in to watch the ball drop, thankful that they are inside on this freezing winter night and not in the middle of thousands of strangers.

She’s in his arms (for now) and that’s enough for her.

Bellamy yawns at ten minutes to midnight and she panics. It’s too early to go to bed and she doesn’t want this night to end just in case she wakes up alone in the morning.

“Hey,” she pokes him in the side. “What happened to sitting on the balcony at midnight?”

He grins, albeit a little sleepily, and stands up. “What my lady wants, my lady gets.”

Clarke snickers and grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. “You’re a dork. Let’s go.”

The snow is still falling softly but they are protected by the overhang on her balcony. Clarke shivers a little despite her long sleeve shirt, pajama pants and wool socks.

“Come here,” Bellamy says quietly from behind her and she smiles as she settles between his outstretched legs on the wicker chaise. He runs his hands up and down her arms a few times. “You’re so cold.”

“I’m better now.” She snuggles into his warmth and he kisses her neck once before putting his chin on her head.

It’s then that a light in the sky catches her eye and she sucks in a breath. No, this can’t be happening.

“Was that a shooting star?” Bellamy asks her and she closes her eyes in a panic.

God, I hope not.

“Maybe it’s a satellite,” she says weakly. “Don’t think you can make a wish on those though.”

“Then we’ll pretend,” he tells her sweetly. “Make a wish, Clarke.”

Her heart is pounding. This can’t be over. It just can’t be. She’s not ready. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and makes her wish.

I wish this was all real.

Bellamy is still holding her when she opens her eyes but she knows how this works. He’s going to be there when she falls asleep but come morning she’ll be back to her old life.

“I need to say something,” she says, sitting up so she’s facing him. “No matter what happens tomorrow I need you to know something.”

“Clarke…”

She shakes her head. “No, please don’t stop me. Just let me talk.” He nods his head and waits so she continues. “Before this week you were just this stranger to me. A guy I watched from afar and I know this doesn’t make sense to you but just bear with me, okay?”

He’s just staring at her and she knows there’s a question on the tip of his tongue but she’s not going to give him the chance to question her when they are running out of time.

“I didn’t know you but I do now and I am so in love with you, Bellamy Blake. I am hoping like hell that when I wake up tomorrow you’ll be here but if you’re not, then at least I got to spend the last week being loved by you.”

Tears are falling freely but she doesn’t try to stop them and Bellamy doesn’t say anything, just pulls her down until his lips are on hers. She’s sure that he can taste her tears but he doesn’t seem to mind, just kisses her deeper as sounds of celebration start up around them.

“Happy New Year,” he whispers against her lips. “No matter what, I am yours. Okay?”

She nods and smiles even though she feels like breaking down. “Take me to bed, Bellamy.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

***

She knows he’s not there before she even opens her eyes.

Her chest doesn’t feel heavy for one. Every morning she’s woken up to his arm lying under her breasts, the warmth of his skin acting like her own personal heater. The bed is too cold and she tries to pretend that she’s back in that other world. Back with him.

Her phone is going off next to her head and she sighs as she moves her hand around without opening her eyes.

Merry Christmas Eve! reads the text from Raven but…

What? It’s January 1st, not Christmas Eve. Isn’t it?

Only her phone confirms that it’s December 24th when she pulls up her calendar. Her heart is aching in her chest. She runs her hand absently over the empty side of the bed, her sight blurring when she sees the dish that held Bellamy’s glasses is nowhere to be found.

She needs a plan, a way to get him back into her life. There’s no way she can just run up to him and tell him that she’s seen what their life could be together but she can’t sit back and do nothing either.

For now though, because it’s Christmas Eve again and she’s completely alone, she curls herself onto what she now thinks of as his side of the bed and she cries.

~~~

chapter 5

Six weeks later

The sun is barely peeking through the clouds as she hurries along the street, a white cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck. She thought it would be festive to wear pink and white even though it’s not actually Valentine’s Day because it falls on a Sunday this year and she doesn’t work weekends.

“You’re here early,” Raven comments when Clarke passes her office. “Nice coat,” she snickers and Clarke flips her off.

“Shut it,” Clarke laughs. “I happen to love this coat, thank you very much.”

Once she’s in her office she unbuttons the baby pink peacoat and tries not to dwell too much on the memory of Bellamy telling her about their first kiss. It’s been a month and a half since the dream or whatever the hell it was and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about him every day.

There was a moment when they made eye contact on the subway not long after she woke up and she could swear that he knew, that he felt it too. But then he just smiled and boarded the train, asked her how her holidays were and went back to his book.

Her holidays, her real holidays, were spent alone for the most part. She got together with Raven, Monty, Harper and some friends the day after Christmas for brunch. Raven listened intently as Clarke described the insanely detailed dream she had.

“You have to talk to him,” Raven insisted when Clarke finished telling her everything. “Maybe it was more than just a dream. Maybe it was a…glimpse.”

“A glimpse?”

Raven had just nodded excitedly. “Yes, like the universe showing you what your life could be like if you just took a chance.”

So she set out to talk to him more. Ask him on Mondays how his weekend was and then if he had any big plans on Fridays. They sit and laugh as they exchange stories about their crazy friends or family. She is getting to know him, slowly but surely, and she knows that soon she’ll have the guts to make a real move.

She didn’t get to see him this morning because she wanted the weekend to herself and the book she’s currently editing requires extra attention and she’d much rather do it in the office than on her downtime.

“What are you doing here so early?” Clarke asks Raven after grabbing each of them a cup of coffee from the break room. Raven does her grabby hands when Clarke passes her the mug and she laughs. “You’re never here this early. What’s up?”

Raven shrugs. “I may or may not have a date tonight and wanted to get some work done so I could get out of here early.”

Clarke mock gasps and puts a hand to her chest. “Why has my little Raven found a gentleman caller?”

Raven rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her coffee. “Shut up. His name is Wells and he’s a contractor for some big shot company in Brooklyn.”

Clarke sits up in her seat. “Wait a second…Wells? Wells Jaha?”

“Oh shit, why do you know his last name?”

Clarke grabs her phone and logs into Facebook, pulling up Wells’ profile. “Is this him?”

“Oh shit, why is he on your friends list?” Raven’s forehead hits the desk and Clarke laughs.

“I’ve known Wells Jaha since…god since we were infants. He was my first boyfriend, actually.”

This causes Raven to look up and scowl. “So you’re telling me that I’m about to go on a date with your childhood sweetheart?”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s a very nice guy. And a pretty decent kisser but then again I was only eight so what do I know?”

Clarke ducks when Raven throws a stack of post its at her. “Get out of my office, will ya? I got work to do.”

The rest of the day passes without fanfare. Clarke throws Raven a wink when she heads out an hour early and she laughs when Raven scowls and flips her off. She still has another hour before she can head out of here so she buckles down to work, her headphones playing softly in her ear as she moves her red pen across the stack of papers in front of her.

The subway platform is surprisingly empty when she arrives so she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her Facebook and Twitter feeds.

She leans against a pillar with her phone in her hand and she can’t help but laugh out loud at a text that just came through from Raven.

Still can’t believe I’m about to go mack on your childhood boyfriend. Wish me luck.

Clarke’s just about to type in a response when she hears a familiar voice behind her.

“You have the most adorable laugh I’ve ever heard.”

Her breath hitches in her chest when she turns around and sees Bellamy standing there with his hands tucked into his front pockets, a bright smile on his gorgeous face.

She blushes when he winks. “Thank you. What are you doing here? This isn’t your stop.”

Bellamy shakes his head and steps closer to her. “It’s not but I had to see you.”

“You did?”

Her heart is beating so fast it’s likely to take flight and fly right out of her chest.

Bellamy takes another step closer and then another until he’s almost toe to toe with her. “I did,” he nods. “Clarke, I have wanted to tell you something for weeks but it never seems to be the right time and I’m tired of waiting. Octavia keeps telling me to just make a move and she’s right so that’s what I’m doing.”

Clarke sucks in a breath when Bellamy reaches down for her hand. This can’t be happening. Not when she’s wearing exactly what he said she was wearing. Not when he’s saying exactly what he told her that he said.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And if you don’t go out with me I might just die,” he chuckles. “Dramatic I know but I feel like we need to know each other. And I know that you feel it too, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. Please tell me that you feel this too.”

She doesn’t nod or agree, just stands up on her toes and kisses him gently. A slight brush of her lips across his and it somehow feels exactly like she remembered but also an entirely new experience. His hands find her hips and he holds her close to him as he kisses her thoroughly.

“Wow,” he says when he pulls away. He rests his forehead on hers and smiles. “I definitely didn’t know that was going to happen.”

Clarke grins and tugs him down so she can speak against his lips.

“Don’t worry. I did.”

*** 10 months later

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

Clarke groans when Bellamy nips the skin right beneath her belly button with his teeth. “You too. Now don’t stop.”

Bellamy chuckles as he moves further down and she can feel his breath hot on her inner thigh. “Is it just me or does this feel a lot like déjà vu?”

Shortly after they started dating Clarke confided in him about her dream, her glimpse and even though it seemed farfetched there were a lot of things she couldn’t have known otherwise. Octavia’s boyfriend Lincoln, for one. There was no way for Clarke to know about him and when she met the real Lincoln she almost had a heart attack. Also, the cookie thing. She almost laughs just thinking about the time she brought him a glass of orange juice with his stack of cookies instead of milk.

“How in the world…” He had looked from the glass to her a few times in awe and she had just laughed and shrugged. And of course she’ll never in her life forget the moment that’s happening again right now.

“Maybe because it’s happened before,” she says breathlessly as she clutches his shoulders. “Will you please, please give me my present now?”

“With pleasure,” he mumbles against her but instead of putting his mouth on her he puts a small box on her stomach instead.

“Bellamy…” She looks down, her eyes wide, as she takes in the black velvet box resting on her bare skin.

He grins, that devastatingly handsome smile he pulls out only on special occasions, and repositions himself so he’s hovering over her.

“Clarke, I feel like I’ve known you forever. I believe that this isn’t our first lifetime together and I don’t think it’ll be our last. So…” He pauses to open the box and Clarke feels the first tear hit her cheek when he pulls out the ring. “Will you marry me?”

She doesn’t nod or agree, just leans up and brushes her lips gently against his. A kiss that encompasses both the past and their future, familiar but as exciting as their first kiss like it always is.

“Should I take that as a yes?” He chuckles against her lips and she finally nods and holds out her hand so he can slip the ring on.

“Wow,” she says, resting her forehead against his. “I definitely didn’t know that was going to happen.”

He pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes and kisses her again.

“Don’t worry. I did.”

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bffnet #my only wish this year (it's you) #fanfic

[ecotone99]

[RF] The Mask

It began on a Saturday. The pitter pat of rain thumped innocuously at Damien’s window. It was a silent kind of day. Then his alarm sounded. A fist shot out immediately, striking it, sending it crashing to the floor. Damien groaned. “Fuck me,” he exclaimed. “I need a drink.” He fished around and came up with a bottle of clear liquor. His head pounded. “Rum. The other white meat.” He took a deep drink. Damien was fat. There was no delicate way to say it. At 5’8” and 278 pounds, he was one fucking big guy. It was a point of contention. It drove a wedge between him and his parents. The rings in his face, his purple mohawk, that drove another. He kept odd hours. He could afford to. His writing career made just enough money that he was his own boss. It was liberating. Those cocksuckers working at banks and restaurants had it all wrong. It had been a rough week. Robert’s dad had a stroke. A bad one, by the sound of it. He paused mid sip. He had a late lunch with Robert in an hour or so. What was he gonna say? What could he say? Sorry your dad is gonna fucking die? “Thoughts, and prayers, and my thumb up my ass,” he grumbled. Damien was an Atheist. Had been since approximately age fifteen. His mother was a Roman Catholic who meant well, but had her head up her cooch. His father was a lapsed Jew or something. His phone vibrated. It was Paul. Damien ignored it. He’d deal with the overzealous editor when his head wasn’t throbbing and his balls didn’t ache. But of course, his balls always ached. That was his cross to bear. He fucked around for a minute longer, then against his better judgement, stepped into the shower. God yes, but that steaming water always felt good. Damien always did his best dissociating in the shower. He sat down, back against the wall, and tried to forget. Thump. Thump, thump. “Five more minutes, Martha.” He stuporic eyes shot open. “Who the FUCK is Martha?!” “Damien, you in there?!,” Robert shouted mildly. “It’s time to go, man.” “OH, FUCK.” “Just give me a sec.” he gave everything a rub down, washed his asshole and his balls, and quickly shampooed his hair. It was 45 minutes past their lunch date before he even got dressed. “Hey man, you okay?,” Robert inquired, voice laced with concern. “Am I okay? Bro, I’m worried about you. Robert managed a weak smile, and shrugged. “I mean, what can I do, man? It’s a bad scene either way. I just hope he doesn’t suffer on the way out.” Damien met his glance, could see the pain in his eyes. They were best friends of over 25 years. More like brothers. “It’s gonna be okay, Robbie.” He embraced his friend tightly. “Don’t call me Robbie,” he said. They sat in saddened silence. Normally, eating at Red Robin marked a happy occasion. “What’re you ordering, man?,” Robert said. He tried to smile, but couldn’t. “The fucking shrimp basket.” “Shrimp basket? Is it fried?” Damien laughed wryly. “Ninja, it’s a fucking Red Robin. Everything is fried. The goddamn soda is fried.” Robert smiled, for real this time. “Thank you, Damien.” “For what?” “You know what. For having my back, like you have since forever. You know the doctors say he has less than a month now.” The news stopped him cold. “A...a month?,” he stammered. “Yeah. Shit sucks.” “How’s your mom taking it?” Robert shrugged. “About as well as you’d expect. She’s 68. And stoic. She doesn’t let me know it’s bothering her, but I can tell. I can tell.” “The thought of your mom in an empty bed eats me up inside,” Damien said with a quiet fury. “Me too, man. But hey, he’s not dead yet. Let’s make this last month count.” The two men are their meal, reminiscing about the past, discussing their hopes for the future. The meal was delicious. A funny thing, Damien thought. Death always made him hungry. Hungry, and horny. He would have to scratch that particular itch later. The thrusting was vigorous. They moaned together, at the end. When it was over, the man, naked, lit a cheap cigar. Soon the motel room stank of tobacco. “You should at least learn to smoke a real cigar,” the woman said. “Fuck it,” Damien said, bringing it to his knee, holding it down in a desperate act of self mutilation. “Jesus, fuck, Damien,” she exclaimed. “Why do you have to be so goddamn self destructive?” He smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “You’re just jealous.” “Fuck you,” she laughed,” taking the cigar from him. She pressed it down against her inner thigh. “Fuck, that feels good.” Lazily flicking her nipples with her free hand. Damien squeezed her breast. “Admit it,” he lulled. “You like me.” Mischief burned in Karen Harper’s eyes. Mischief, and something else. “Miss me with that gay shit,” she said. Then he kissed her. She pulled back after a couple minutes, voice heavy. “Are you okay?” Damien smiled with an impish charm, and sighed. “Yeah. Fuck. No, actually. I don’t know why I just lied to you.” What’s wrong?,” she inquired, laying a hand against his shoulder. “It’s my best friend Robert. His dad just had a major stroke. This wasn’t the first time, either. He...,” his voice cracked. “He’s dying.” She stroked his shoulder comfortingly. “Damien...I’m so sorry. I lost my father 6 years ago. He had a massive heart attack. It was a total shock, we never saw it coming.” “I’ve known him my entire life. His wife is crazy about him. It’s killing me.” She took his head in her lap, stroking his hair. They stayed like that for a long time. At some point, he fell asleep. Sometimes, in our most vulnerable moments, the void is filled. But never for long. “How’s Dusty doing?,” Paul asked. Damien just hadn’t been able to put him off any longer. The editor was a big man. A huge man, actually. All of 6’7” and pushing 350 pounds of muscle. Of course, Damien had shown up reeking of brandy and pot, but that suited Paul just fine. The Goliath worked hard, and partied harder. “Not good,” Damien sighed wanly. “He hasn’t got very long.” “Shit. It’ll be okay.” “No,” Damien said morosely. “You’ll be okay,” Paul urged gently. “No, I fucking won’t.” “Christ, Damien, I know that. But it’s what people say. I’m limited by society’s options.” “It’s a mask,” Damien said. “Just say what you cunting mean, Paul.” “In that case.” He grinned. “In that case, I’d like to inform you that I’d 100% let Lady Gaga shit in my mouth.” Damien cocked back his head and laughed shrewdly. “Hey, me too.” “Damien, do you want the world to remember you when you die? Is that why you write?” “Huh. Well, art is a very selfish and egotistical pursuit.” “You didn’t answer my question.” “I want them to celebrate,” Damien said. “Celebrate what?” “Life. I want them to get drunk, high. To fuck in the middle of the street.” “What about your body?” Damien shrugged. “Skin my tattoos, cremate my fat ass, and for the sake of baboon pussy, don’t pray for me.” “I don’t give a fuck what happens,” Paul said mildly. “I just wanna get high.” “Why did you call me here, Paul?,” Damien arched his eyebrows. “For another one of your horseshit deadlines?” “Dude, I already said.” He held up a big old white bag. “To get high.” Damien grinned boyishly. “You know me too well, Paul. Way too fucking well. It’s eerie.” 30 minutes later, they were in Paul’s immaculate black Mercedes. Paul was driving (Damien didn’t have a license). Actually he was gunning it. He was jamming it to Lynyrd Skynyrd in erratic fashion. “Sweet home Alabama! Dun nun nun nun nun nun nun! Where the skies are so blue!” “Man, FUCK Alabama!,” Damien cried, smashing a mailbox with a wooden bat. “He leaned out of the car, a savage grin on his face . “Nothing in Alabama but buttfuckin hicks and weasels!” “Man, I’m FROM Alabama.” “So? Fuck you too,” he laughed. Paul twitched, did a line off his steering wheel. Started laughing. “Man, you’re right. I hate my hometown. Fuck Alabama. Big old shithole, man.” “Fuck Alabama,” Damien agreed. “Hey, Paul?” “Yeah?” “Can you take me home? I wanna be alone. Some of my best writing is done fucked up.” Paul nodded. “Sure, buddy.”

Damien fell, facefirst onto his bed. He had a nosebleed, but didn’t care. Didn’t give a single fuck. He fished around and found his half empty rum bottle. Took a deep swig. “Where did I put my mothershitting blunt?” “He groped for it, staggered, finally found it. The sweet, aromatic smell of pot permeated the room. He inhaled deeply. “Fucking aah, he declared.” He was just about drifting off when his phone began to ring. He looked down at his phone. 5:23AM. It was Robert. “Hello?” “Damien? Sorry to wake you.” “No. No, I was up. Everything okay, man?’ Even though he knew it wasn’t. Even though a late night call like this could only mean one thing. “No. He’s gone, Damien. He died about an hour ago. I’m sorry.” Even though he knew, fucking knew that Dusty Chavers was dying, the news hit him like a train. It was oddly physical. He felt sick, cancerous. “I’m sorry, Robert. I loved your dad very much.” “I know you did. I know it’s late. I just wanted to tell you.” “Robert, I won’t let you or your mom face this alone.” “Thank you. I gotta go. I have other calls to make.I love you, Damien. Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Robbie.” He made it to the very end of their phone call, then he projectile vomited. Right onto his bed. Fuck it. He would clean it up later. He couldn’t think. He could barely see straight. He was so high and drunk and fucked up on coke and weed and grief. There was only one place to go. Only one place he COULD go.

“Robert’s dad is dead,” Damien said quietly. She put her head on his chest. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re not okay. It’s NOT okay. It fucking sucks.” “Do you have a hole inside your soul, Karen?,” he asked. “I have an emptiness inside of me that I just can’t seem to fill. With food or booze or weed or anything good or bad. What is this emptiness inside of me?” He slammed his fist against the end table. “This desperate need to connect to others.” Tears began to fall. “Is this what being human means?” She touched his arm. “Would you read me one of your poems?” “What does that matter,” he said bitterly. “Please? Just do it.” “Okay,” he said tonelessly. “Whatever. I call this one Statuary.” He cleared his throat, struggled not to cry again. He began:

“The girl raises her glass, Alas, alas, So fast, She withers.

The forest chants, Enchants, Recants, Laments her whispers.

Her corpse is frost Touches the moss, So green, Obscene.

Among the lumber, She still slumbers, Slumbers, Slumbers.” She put his hand on her breast. “That was beautiful. “YOU are beautiful,” she whispered. “I...I don’t know what to say.” She shrugged. “Yeah, well. You were right. I DO like you.” His brown eyes shone.. He did not speak for a long while. “Miss me with that gay shit!,” he replied finally. The void is real. And it is cruel. And it wins more often than not. Death is a foregone conclusion. But one thing our species has is heart. We are stubborn, motherfucking pricks. The void is real, no doubt about it. Let’s make that bastard work for it.

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