#I had to feed my damn cat like an hour ago cause he woke me up but now I'm just ... I can't get back to sleep 😤 .

[stcries-a]

It's 6am and I can't get back to sleep, rengoku thoughts are keeping me awake.

#Mobile . #I had to feed my damn cat like an hour ago cause he woke me up but now I'm just ... I can't get back to sleep 😤 . #SO GUESS IMMA LURK HERE FOR A LITTLE WHILE .

[nineteenninety-six]

A Stray and A Baby

This wasn’t meant to be so long but at the same time, it was meant to be longer so lol. Repost since tumblr sucks

(Y/N) had heard soft meowing ever since she had woken up but despite looking around, she could find where it was coming from. They didn’t have a cat so there it was definitely not coming from within in the house and she had checked the back garden to the best of her abilities but she couldn’t find anything there either and Cyril was off with Alfie so it wasn’t anything he could have possibly dragged in. 

The meowing had continued for the entire day and it was driving (Y/N) crazy as she tried to figure out where it was coming from but being pregnant had hindered her from turning the place upside down trying to look for it, so she waited until Alfie returned home, hoping that he would be able to help her.

.•° ✿ °•.

Alfie came through the front door just as (Y/N) finished dinner like clockwork. He fed Cyril his dinner and washed his hands before he joined her at the kitchen table and they completed dinner in between asking how each other's day was. 

Just as Alfie stood up to take their empty plates to the kitchen, (Y/N) heard the meowing again.

“Alf, wait! Can you hear that?” 

Alfie paused and once again there was a meow, “Sounds like ah cat”

“Mmh” (Y/N) agreed, “I’ve been hearing it all day but I haven’t been able to find out where it’s coming from.”

“Where have you been looking?”Alfie asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

“I don’t think it’s coming from within the house so I checked the back garden but I couldn’t see anything”

“You haven’t checked the front?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

Alfie let out a hefty sigh as he walked towards the front door, “Well, c’mon then, I know you won’t let this go unless you find the thing that’s causing the noise”

(Y/N) grinned as she pulled on her coat and slipped on her outside shoes as she followed him.

The two of them paced in front of their house, making noises in hopes that the cat reacted but no cat appeared. They got odd looks from people walking down the street but they didn’t care. 

Just as they were about to give up, a shuffling noise came from one of their bins and (Y/N) made her way over to investigate. When she peered into the bin, she gasped at what she saw, 

“Alfie, it’s a kitten!”

She reached into the bin to try and take it out but the scared kitten freaked out causing the bin to topple over to its side.

(Y/N) let out a small whine before she got ready to bend down and pick up the cat but Alfie interrupted her before she could.

“Ah fuck, don’t bend down” Alfie called out, “I’ll do my back out trying to help you up and then we’ll be both stuck on the fucking floor”

“You wouldn’t try calling for help?”

“And ruin my reputation? No fucking way”

“So you’d just let your heavily pregnant wife stay on the ground until what? You’re able to get up or one of the neighbours finds us”

“Nah, I’ll send Cyril to go get Ollie”

(Y/N) laughed at that, “If anything, Cyril will join us on the ground, thinking it was a cuddle session”

“Fucking dog” Alfie agreed with a grumble, “Stay here, I’ll be back in two minutes”

(Y/N) waited like instructed but made attempts to coax the kitten out which failed but just like he said, two minutes later, Alfie returned with a little parcel of ham, still wrapped like how the butcher gave it to them, meaning that Alfie took the ham straight from their cooler. 

Alfie tore a little piece of the sliced ham off and chucked it near the mouth of the toppled bin and together they waited to see if the kitten ate it. It took awhile but the kitten did slowly creep out and eat the piece of ham. It gobbled it up as it had no doubt been starving.

Alfie chucked another piece down and the cat quickly ate that up too. Alfie created a trail of pieces of ham that lead into the kitchen and the kitten followed the trail until they were in the kitchen.  Once they finished the last piece of ham, the cat looked up at them in suspicion, cautious of everything.

“What do we do with them, Alf?”

Alfie turned to her with a scrunched brow, “You’re the one who wanted to bring the damn cat inside and now you’re asking me what to do with the bloody thing? Fuckin’ hell”

“Alfie..” (Y/N) whined. Her back, feet and ankles were killing her and the last thing she wanted to do was get into an extended discussion with him.

Alfie saw the exhaustion and pain on her face and backed down, “We give it the rest of the ham and see what it wants to do tomorrow.”

(Y/N) nodded and they left the rest of the same with the cat and went to bed, Cyril right behind them.

.•° ✿ °•.

The next morning, (Y/N) found the kitten curled up underneath one of the chairs in the kitchen. It bathed in the morning sun, it’s dark fur appearing almost brown. It didn’t even stir as (Y/N) moved around the kitchen making breakfast for herself and Alfie and she also set out some food for them as well, in case they woke up. 

Cyril tiptoed into the kitchen, right behind (Y/N) but his focus was on the small cat. The way he moved around it, avoiding it, was almost like he was afraid of the tiny thing and did his best to stay out of their way.

“Where’s the little bastard then?” Alfie asked as he entered the kitchen, collecting the cup of tea that (Y/N) held out for him.

“Underneath the chair” (Y/N) nodded towards it, “Still sleeping”

“Hm,” Alfie let out an unamused grunt before he downed his tea and put his coat on.

“I’ll be back by dinner” He wrapped (Y/N) in a hug and gave her a kiss, “Be careful. Stay off your feet.”

“I will.”

After one last kiss, Alfie was out of the door with Cyril and (Y/N) retreated to the living room to read the newspaper. An hour or so later, the kitten padded into the room, sniffing at the furniture as they walked around, getting used to its environment. (Y/N) stayed still and silent, not wanting to spook the cat and watched as they walked around before silently coming to a stop in front of her.

(Y/N) tapped the seat next to her, unable to bend over due to her belly and the cat took the hint and jumped up. She held out her fingers allowing the cat to sniff at it and when the cat rubbed their head underneath her fingers, (Y/N) took it as a hint to pet them, which the cat enjoyed pleasantly. 

Over the next week, the cat had gotten accustomed to the house, they mostly stayed on the windowsill enjoying the sun or was curled up next to (Y/N)’s feet. The cat, which they still hadn’t named was a comforting presence in the house as (Y/N) got closer to her supposed due date. 

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) had the biggest grin on her face as held her son in her arms, despite how exhausted she was. Alfie was sitting next to her on the bed with an equally big grin on his face as he looked down at the baby boy.

“He’s amazing” (Y/N) whispered before she looked up at Alfie, “What should we name him?”

“Benjamin.” Alfie had tears in his eyes as he spoke, “Benjamin Solomons.”

“Hello, Ben” (Y/N) cooed but the baby merely pursed his lips as he continued sleeping.

The door to their room creaked open and the cat, which they named Lucy, crept in before jumping on the bed. Alfie moved to go shoo that cat away but (Y/N) stopped him, Lucy had settled at the end of the bed, far away enough from the baby, so she saw no harm in her being there.

Over the next few days after Ben was born, Lucy was constantly next to (Y/N) whenever she had in her arms, twisting around her feet or sat in an adventurous position that gave her a great view of (Y/N) and the baby and whenever Ben was in his cot, Lucy will be curled up, right by the legs of the cot, as if she was standing guard. 

As he grew, wherever Benjamin was, Lucy would be right next to him.

.•° ✿ °•.

1 YEAR LATER

One year old Benjamin toddled into the kitchen where his mother was preparing lunch, Lucy right behind him as his bare feet slapped against the floor informed (Y/N) of his arrival. It also told her that he pulled off his socks for the 5th time that day.

Ben had learnt to walk a few weeks ago and most alternated between walking and crawling to get around.

He took a few steps forward before he reached her and clung to her skirt and looked up at her with the eyes he shared with his father, “Lun’?”

At the same time, Lucy stopped in front of her food bowl and meowled at (Y/N), no doubt asking the thing Ben had asked.

“Give me a moment Lucy, let me get Ben’s food ready first and then I’ll feed you”

“S’Alright” Alfie stepped into the small kitchen, his cane clicking against the floor, “Give me him and I’ll get him sorted”

Ben looked over at his father with a bright smile, “Da!”

Alfie’s back had been playing up recently so he wasn’t able to bend down and pick Ben up, so (Y/N) picked him up and placed him in his fathers arm. 

When they disappeared into the dining room, (Y/N) bent down and gave Lucy a few loving scratches and pets, “You’re the best, Lucy. I love you very much”

Lucy let out a meow as if she understood her words and (Y/N) gave her one more pat before she put her food in the bowl and left her to eat. 

(Y/N) washed her hands and collected the plates filled with their lunch and joined her family in the dining room, leaving the door slightly open knowing that when Lucy was finished, she’d join them, or more accurately, go back to Ben’s side. 

#if this doesnt work dfsfhdsf #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagines #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #imagines #peaky blinders

[kidney9-9]

Baby (3)

I’m so excited! Very big thank you to @donutloverxo for letting me continue this as a series! I hope you enjoy this angsty part of Baby. Please read the warnings before you read! Natasha is in this part :) Reposted because it didn’t show in tags.

Masterlist is linked in my bio. To find this series, it is in my Steve Rogers Masterlist link. Tags are opened; send in an ask to join. Tags in the reblog.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Steve Rogers x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: Drinking and Swearing Word Count: 3.5k

he sky was beautiful tonight, as you laid on the roof top with a blanket and a few snacks. You needed a break from everyone. Peter and Steve were both avoiding you like the plague, and when you tried asking them what was happening, why they both started to act like that, they didn’t answer you. When you asked the rest of the team, you were only met with shrugs and it made you even more frustrated. It didn’t cross your mind that Steve and Peter were worried about you. You usually slept in Steve’s room now, but tonight you decided not to.

It made things a bit easier just for the moment, to ignore the things that were bugging you. You knew you had to address it, but they both avoided it, so you just wanted to leave it alone for now. You started to count the stars slowly, while listening to relaxing music, already feeling sleepy. It wasn’t unusual to come up here, but you’ve never slept up here before. You wished you’ve done so sooner, it was calming.

Nothing and no one to bother you now. It was peaceful, the blanket was snuggly, and you were using your sweater as a pillow. You already ate a few of the snacks, and you slowly started to close your eyes, just telling yourself everything would be alright.

It wasn’t alright. To Steve and Peter, at least. Steve had thought you were hanging out with Peter in the gym, messing around with the equipment like you usually did. And Peter thought you were with Steve, getting ready for bed, but you were nowhere to be seen. The team didn’t seem to care as much, knowing that you were a mature person, and that you could take care of yourself. Peter searched everywhere he’d think you’d be, and Steve tried to track your phone, but he didn’t understand when he saw your location was still at the Compound.

As hours passed by, and no answer to your phone, more panic passed through the two and they met together in the common room nervously. Peter signed, taking a sip of his water as he walked back and forth while Steve sat on the chair, leg bouncing.

“What did you tell her?” Steve spoke up, setting his head in his hand, watching Peter. The serious tone of his voice made Peter pause his movements and he glanced over to Steve for a few moments. Peter made it his mission not to interact with you these past few days, after what happened between Steve and him. There was no way Peter would ever tell you any of the shit that happened, it would be too much, and he was afraid it would hurt you.

Peter shook his head, walking to the couch and took a seat by the corner, trying to get as far away from Steve but still be in the same room. “I never said anything to her. You must’ve said something.” He retorted, biting his lip as he worried about you even more. He had a dose of anger at Steve too, for doing whatever he did to cause you to leave. But then again, he paused to think, that maybe it was something else, not just stupid boy problems. Or maybe you were just out with your friends, he had no idea.

Steve scoffed at Peter, “I said nothing to her. It’s most definitely you. There’s no one else. Do you even know how much danger she could be in right now?” Peter frowned back, rolling his eyes slightly. Steve turned his head, wanting to shout at Peter for his attitude. If someone told him a year ago, that he’d be this angry at Peter – this kid, he wouldn’t believe them, but here they were now.

“Stop throwing this on me! I’m not the one dating her. If I was dating her, this wouldn’t happen. She would be happy and safe, and I’ve seen the way you two started acting. Like things are going down the drain. Too bad, huh? Did you two even get to the nightstand portion of a relationship? Just a few steps before moving in completely?” Peter stood up, lecturing Steve. His hands were in his hair now, cupping and squeezing stressfully, and he was sure a few strands fell out.

“You caused this Parker. The only portion of a relationship with her that you got, was the one nightstand. Oh, that’s right – it’s fucking nothing! She didn’t like you then, and she doesn’t like you now. Don’t you think she’d try to pursue a relationship with someone she actually cared for?” The argument started, they both couldn’t back down now, talking about the person they loved.

“I don’t understand why I waste my time talking to you. Y/n obviously doesn’t love me the way I love her, but I’m trying to stay by her side to support her. What you did to her – I can’t, I just can’t be there for her when you treat her like shit, and now this happens? It’s you that did this, and here I am, cleaning up your mistakes.” The words burned as they left his mouth, revealing a lot more that Steve didn’t want to hear.

Steve knew he couldn’t stop your friendship with Peter but hearing that he was putting a strain on your friendships made his heart stutter in guilt. But he couldn’t let Peter talk down to him like this, especially about you. “You need to stop. Y/n… You can’t speak about her like that. You’re the mistake she made. She’ll always regret you.”

The room bounced in silence as Peter and Steve processed the words. It was hurtful, Steve had to admit. The things that they were both saying were wrong, and they needed to stop. Peter’s face turned sour back to Steve, “I hope you’re happy.” He stood up, and left the room, not caring about what Steve wanted to say back.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

It was way past morning when you woke up, and you did not need to hear this shit from Steve now. You didn’t owe him anything, if he decided he didn’t want to talk to you for that long. It was an awkward situation, but you felt even more pissed when he grabbed onto your arm and asked again, this time with more anger. You shrugged your arm out of his hold, walking quickly to your room.

“I don’t need to tell you anything.” You countered back, hugging yourself with the blanket you had from the roof. He found you outside after you climbed down from the roof, so you could just guess he thought you’ve been out of the Compound all night.

“Like hell you do, we were looking everywhere for you.” Steve sighed, shaking his head as he quickly followed you. You paused in your walk before slowly turning around with furrowed eyebrows and a confused expression.

“Who’s we?” You questioned, sniffling and in need of a warm shower. Steve bit his lip from his mistake. It wasn’t like he didn’t want you to know Peter was looking for you, but he knew it would make you more upset.

“Peter and I.” He confessed, shaking his head as you scoffed. He tried to reach out for you again, but you took a step back.

You couldn’t even look at him without wanting to frown. You’ve had enough of their behavior; you just didn’t understand it. “You – I don’t get it. Both of you act like you need me, then toss me away practically, by not speaking to me. And now you’re acting like you want me again. I’m not going to stay around if you both act like children fighting over a damn forgotten toy.” The ramble came out in a tone that made Steve feel immense guilt and regret.

You leaned against the wall as you closed your eyes. You didn’t even want to be here, talking with him. It was so off and on now and you didn’t know if you should break it off or not. If you did, you knew you’d regret it. You had feelings that you could barely explain, you’ve had them for a while now, and it would hurt to see him leave.

Steve paused his response as he glanced behind you, seeing Bucky and Peter walking together. Peter’s head was down and hands in his pockets, acting as if he got beat up and needed to hide it. Bucky’s hand was on Peter’s back, and Steve had a peculiar feeling that Bucky tried talking some sense into Peter this morning. Bucky was always there for Steve, especially when he couldn’t fight his own battles, but he didn’t want Bucky to speak to Peter or you about any of this.

Peter was still just a kid to him, even though you were closer to his age than Steve’s. Peter was maturing, his feelings for you were something that Steve was sure wouldn’t compare to his own for you. And Bucky speaking about it with Peter made Steve frown. He just hoped it helped them out in a way, but he doubted it.

“If you can’t tell me why this is happening, why you can’t speak to me, I don’t think I can… I think we’ll need a break, just for a while.” You spoke up again, voice breaking as you felt the feelings fall on you again.

Bucky cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you turned your head, seeing him and Peter stand behind you nervously. You let out an unamused chuckle as Bucky scratched his head, “I got to go uh, feed the cats.”

Peter let out a small murmur that you couldn’t hear, but he stayed between you and Steve now, gazing to the floor. “Are you guys breaking up? I’ll leave.” His question made your gaze faulter and Steve sighed, shaking his head.

“No, we’re not…” He trailed off unsurely.

You felt as if you weren’t there anymore as Peter asked, “Did you tell her? What you said last night? Did you tell Bucky to talk to me like I’m some orphan?” You felt a twist in your stomach as you glanced to Steve with a farfetched look. What happened? You coughed slightly, causing Peter to glance up to you.

“So, he didn’t tell you.” Peter mumbled, gazing back to Steve. You shook your head in confusion. Everything felt horrible now and you didn’t want to be here with them now. You could feel their anger at each other building as Peter took another step closer to Steve.

“I… I didn’t mean it Peter. I have no idea what she could have felt for you.” Steve confessed muttering between the three of you.

Visible hurt was on your face as you clicked together what they were talking about and you scoffed, standing straight up, instead of leaning against the wall. “You talked about me sleeping with both of you? What, did you rate how I was?” You sneered out, rolling your eyes as Peter started to deny it.

“We got into an argument when we couldn’t find you, and you were brought up in the conversation, but it was nothing like that.” He insisted, hands waving down as he tried to get you to believe him. It was the truth, he and Steve would never do such a thing, and it miffed him that you even thought that.

“Looking for me? Guys,” You paused, letting out a laugh of disbelief, shaking your head as you took a step away. “I’m not your fucking dog! You don’t have a leash, you never had a leash, you don’t need to look for me – you fucking assholes!” You cut yourself off, taking a few steps back, watching the very guilty looks on their faces.

“If you cared about me, you would have spoken to me about whatever is bothering you. Not fucking gossip about me with each other.” You finished, nodding to yourself before turning away and walking.

They didn’t do anything as you walked away from them. Instead, they knew you needed your space now for sure. What they did pushed you away even more, and that was exactly what Peter wanted so he could lose feelings, but it just hurt him more. Steve just wanted to move past everything with Peter, and be happy with you, but now it seemed like that could possibly never happen.

You flopped on Natasha’s bed with a big sigh, “Fucking dick minced meat men…” You trailed off as Natasha tilted her head to you in amusement. You raised your eyebrows back to her, refusing to cry over them. They pissed you off, and whatever they were talking about, you knew you were right about how they should’ve reached out to you instead. It was weird, you didn’t realize the Avengers team was practically college with super hormones.

“Minced meat? What else would you call dicks?” Natasha hummed, as she laid next to you, propping her hand up to set her head there. You gazed up to her with a frown as she started to play with your hair casually. You were glad to have her as a friend. She always managed to understand anything you felt, and instead of trying to deliberately calm you down, she always talked with you and went along with your feelings.

“Expired sausage; old moldy candle; uh, soggy toothbrush.” You answered slowly, knitting your eyebrows in thought. Natasha chuckled back, shaking her head, “Meant the guys, but talented names.” She replied.

You felt your frown soften as you glanced away from her, “I wastalking about them.” She grinned, rolling her eyes playfully before collapsing back against the bed completely, her head hitting the blankets.

“I’ll use those during my next mission, I’ll probably get information faster.” She responded. Her hand was still resting in your hair, and you shifted up into it, rolling slightly to face her. It was an instant thought, and you almost grinned back to her.

“Want to get hammered on wine and beer tonight?” Your question was instantly answered with a “Hell yes!” And a fist bump. You giggled as she rolled over you dramatically, and you were glad to have her here.

“Get off me,” You laughed out loudly, already feeling the sadness lifting off you. Natasha wiggled, shaking her head as she bear-hugged you on the bed. It was a go-to thing she did when you were upset, which always helped.

“Why? Am I heavy?” She retorted back, leaning slightly up to see your face. You rolled your eyes shortly before letting out a snort. Her hair was falling onto your face as well.

“No, you’re just annoying- ow!” You cut yourself off feeling her pinch your shoulder. You shrugged her off before sitting completely up, giggling as she blew air out, causing her hair to flop a bit. “Just kidding, love you.” You laughed, as she stood up with a sigh.

Natasha paused as she tugged her shirt over her head, and she peeped out from the bathroom, glancing back to you as you scrolled through your phone to pass time. “I have an idea.” She mentioned and you gazed back up to her, cocking your head to the side, signaling for her to continue.

“Let’s use Steve’s card and go to that new restaurant that Tony’s been talking about. He’s got a Captain’s salary, after all.” Her idea made your eyes widen and you coughed out of surprise.

“Wouldn’t he be pissed off?” You immediately questioned back, stumbling to stand up. Natasha shrugged, after she got her shirt on and pushed the door completely open. She stood by the bed as you tossed your phone on there and you cupped your face as you thought about it.

You stared down at it for a few seconds before deciding, fuck it. You should have fun and show Steve you’re having fun without him. He’ll even know where you are too, just like that fucking leash he wants you on. You let out a scoff, thinking about what happened in the hallway. It’ll show both Steve and Peter.

“Okay, let’s do it.” You spoke up and Natasha smirked, patting your back as she passed by you to get some shoes on. “Atta girl.” She replied, winking to you playfully.

The restaurant was dazzling; everything felt so fancy, it made you want to cringe but smile at the same time. The amount for a bottle of wine… you reread it over and it made you feel nervous about doing this to Steve, but at the same time you still wanted to get back at him for the way he made you feel.

You didn’t even know what type of relationship you held with him now. You knew he wasn’t out there talking with girls, but you also knew he was talking about you to people. And you weren’t okay with that. Whatever he and Peter said to each other was negative and about you, and it made you feel upset. The two guys you’ve slept with before, speaking and arguing about you… it was uncomfortable.

Not only did you still wonder what they were saying, but you wanted to know what they were feeling. It was obvious that anger had been a big emotion they felt during the argument, but you wanted to see what really happened. It was your maybe boyfriend/maybe ex now and your maybe friend/maybe ex friend that you’ve also had sex with.

You groaned, thinking about it. Natasha nudged your side, as the appetizers came. “You know, I never really say this, but do you want to talk about what’s happening?” Her question came out gently and you gazed at her, finding her thoughtfulness and friendship lovely.

“I guess I’m just angry. And scared about what’s going to happen.” You whispered before taking a long gulp of your drink. Natasha smiled to you after taking a bite of the bread.

“That’s normal. But you know what’s not normal?” She asked, eyebrows raising as you leaned in with a curious look.

“It’s that you’re so upset about this. I’ve never seen you this worried, nonetheless over boys. I just want to make sure everything is okay.” Her concern bled through her voice in the response and you felt your eyes water just slightly as you thought about everything’s that’s happened.

No, nothing was okay. You’re losing your best friend, and the guy you crushed on for so long. You wanted to laugh at yourself for being so dumb over these guys, but you didn’t realize how they became a part of your everyday life until they left. It wasn’t even the worst thing that you could go through, but it hurt more than you ever thought it would. Fuck, actually, you didn’t think you would.

“I don’t want to lose them, Nat. They both mean a lot to me, in different ways, but they,” You cut yourself short, coughing and trying to stop yourself from crying. You told yourself this earlier today, not to cry, but here you were, feeling tears form.

You felt Natasha grasp at your arm gently, “Take your time.” Her words made you sigh as you reminded yourself over again, it’ll be okay soon, somehow.

“I want them both, but that can’t happen. If I have one, I’ll lose the other. If I try for both, I’ll lose them. I want Peter’s friendship and that dumb shit we do together and the weird times we’d make inside jokes while working out. And I want Steve’s love, and his warmth, and how he’s a partner in all different ways. All at the same time.” You rambled out, shaking your head as the words continued to pour. It made you feel better, confessing this.

Natasha stuck with you throughout the night. Drink after drink, and you could momentarily forget about what was happening back at the Compound. Your mind drifted away from the thought that you used Steve’s card, that you snatched off the top of his dresser as he was showering before you and Natasha left. Bodies danced up against you as you and Natasha went club and bar hopping, giggling and booing at random songs.

And then you lost Natasha. You didn’t know where she was in the crowd, but she was wasted. It was a blur and you wobbled to a seat, dialing her number repeatedly, just to see the “Call Failed” sign. You sniffed nervously, as you stood back up, gazing into the crowd. Did she say she was going to the bathroom? Or the next bar? Or was she talking with someone and you couldn’t see? You didn’t know. You didn’t even know how long ago you last saw her.

And fuck, you didn’t want to hear the next morning that something bad happened. You hesitantly pressed onto the list of profiles, scrolling down to call him for help. You frowned before clicking on it, and you breathed deeply, holding the phone up to your ear.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #avengers #avengers fanfiction #thank you for reading!! #love y'all!! #kidney9-9

[serensama]

To Mourn #4

Okay Juju-bebe… it’s your turn. You can do this.  This will include:  1) Angst. Tragedy. Major Character Death. 

A man may drink and not be drunk, A man may fight and not be slain, A man may court a pretty girl- and perhaps be welcomed back again.  But since it has, so ought to be, By a time to rise and a time to fall; Come fill to me a parting glass, Goodnight and joy be with you all.  Goodnight and joy be with you all.

“The Parting Glass”- Ed Sheeran.

Jumin tried to push himself up against the bedhead, making sure the mountain of paperwork arranged over his lap didn’t fall to the floor. He grimaced as a sharp pain shot through both legs, his feet tingling with the heavy feeling of numbness that he so detested. His steel grey eyes looked up to find Elizabeth the Third snuggled into a tight ball over his feet and sighed, knowing full well that he would have to move her in order to regain the feeling back into his legs. “Elizabeth the Third please get off my-” He paused, his heart stopping mid-sentence. Jumin released a harsh, shuddering breath as his trembling hand covered his mouth; small, almost imperceptible whimpers falling from his lips. Blinking back the stinging in his eyes and biting down on his bottom lip to silence his already muted cries, Jumin reached over to the half empty glass of wine on his bedside table and took a drink. The taste of his own tears mixing with the fine port, so often blending on his palate, he forgot what the wine tasted like before.

She had such long eyelashes. They were so pretty and thick and the way they just kicked up at the ends… he loved them. The way they fluttered so charmingly as she blinked and framed the shape of her eyes so perfectly- he could write sonnets about how he adored her eyelashes. Songs about the colour of her eyes and symphonies about the curve of her lips. She was magnificent, radiant and oh so amazing- he could scarcely believe she was with him. After almost three years of marriage and he still couldn’t understand how MC had come to fall in love with him no matter how hard he thought about it. He would lay awake at night and watch her sleep, his fingers ghosting over her peaceful features, careful not to wake her. He could feel the warmth in the air around her body, wherever she was she emitted this soft, glowing warmth that he had grown quite addicted to. Even in her sleep, she was still providing him a comfort no one else in his life had offered.

MC shifted in her sleep and he could feel his mouth quirk into a small smile as she twitched her nose and lips as she began to wake up, something he always found so utterly adorable he could barely keep his hands to himself to stop him from pinching at her cheeks. She was not a cat. She was his wife and… oh one pinch wasn’t going to hurt.

Her eyes shot open when she felt warm fingers squeeze at her face gently.

That damned man of hers.

A soft smile graced her mouth as she stretched languidly in her chair, her arms jutting out awkwardly to push her tender attacker back, her ebony haired husband chuckling to himself with amusement. He had been watching her sleep again, she just knew it, her senses picking up his kind gaze even in her barely conscious periphery. She would know the feeling of his eyes on her from anywhere; in a crowded room, over the security camera feed in their home or yes, even whilst asleep. His stare intense and focused but at the same time filled with so much love and care that she felt almost cold without it on her at times- which, as luck would have it, was not often at all.

They were generally always together, something she had not expected to happen after they were married but was pleasantly surprised that it did. She had come in to help Jumin and Jaehee with some late-night paperwork and surprised the two with how proficient she was at everything… how quick of mind she was and how easily she picked everything up. She would offer her assistance more and more and soon she found herself employed at C & R,  finally giving Jaehee some free time to breathe- the husband and wife team happy to continue working even without their favourite executive assistant in tow. Jumin’s productivity and ingenuity had never been higher as he felt more contented and inspired when she was near. The company was booming and so too was their marriage, he couldn’t be happier, and by the blissful smile MC wore as she looked at him- neither could she.

“G’mornin,” she yawned as she continued her elongated stretch, the hand used to push him away fondly caressing at his chest. Jumin smirked at the small token of affection and caught her wrist in a loose hold and kissed her fingers one by one. “Good morning yourself,” he said back, his smile growing larger as the faintest blush tinted the tops of her cheeks. More than three years together and he was still floored by the sight of her flushed cheeks. He was a complete fool in love and he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“Are we nearly there?” she questioned as she waggled her legs out in front of her, her toes pointing forward. It had been almost 14 hours since their departure and Jumin was glad to see the lush green fields of Ireland beneath them. They had no business there but he had asked MC where she wanted to go on one of their rare weeks of leisure, so she had spun the globe in his father’s office and randomly pointed to a country and voila, the were on their way to Ireland. He had to admit he was rather excited, he hadn’t had the time to venture there when he had a recent business trip to the UK, and to experience everything with MC for the first time was thrilling. Trying the food together and seeing all the sights, like proper tourists, he couldn’t remember the last time… or ever… that he had a chance to do that. Another thing he had to add to the list of things he needed to thank MC for. “Mhmm, the pilot said we should probably land in the next hour or so,” he replied as he leaned over to tuck a hair away from her face. “Hmm, thank you,” she grinned, leaning into his touch. Jumin stifled a laugh as once again he was reminded the stark similarities his wife shared with their cat. “I should probably get freshened up though-” she began to say as she moved to stand, only to be silenced with a kiss to her brow as he held her to him. MC laughed as his moved to stroke the side of her cheek and down her jaw to caress the soft skin along her neck as he nuzzled into her hair, his warm breath tickling her ear.

“No, you are absolutely perfect my darling. You stay right here,” he murmured as he pressed another chaste kiss to her temple. “But I want to brush my teeth and fix my hair-” “You are perfect just as you are-” “I can taste my dinner from hours ago-” “You just stay-” “Is there a reason why you don’t want me to go to the bathroom Jumin?” she asked, one brow arching suspiciously as she felt his sheepish grin on his lips as he kissed her cheek. “Because I am in dire need to go to the bathroom myself my dear.” MC scoffed as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got halfway up before Jumin pulled her back down, falling back in a mass of tangled limbs, laughing all the way. She looked up at him disbelievingly as she huffed out an indignant breath and rolled her eyes. Jumin beamed down at her, his perfect white teeth practically blinding her as he leant down to steal one final kiss from her lips. “Why didn’t you go earlier? You had to choose the exact moment I woke up before you decided to go pee?” she giggled, poking him in the chest with each word to punctuate her irritation with him. His smile grew wider as he twisted the ends of her hair between his fingers, revelling in its silken texture. “I didn’t want to miss you sleeping.” “Jumin- you’ve seen me sleep a thousand times-” “And now I’ve seen you sleep a thousand and one times,” he said as simply as if he were merely stating the obvious. MC shook her head as she wet her lips knowing full well that her husband was ridiculous and knew better than to fight him when he was in a particularly amorous or sentimental mood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-” he said as he rose from his seat and straightened his vest and jacket.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she joked as he moved around her to walk down the aisle. Jumin paused and looked back down at her, his grey eyes boring into her. He bent down to peer directly into her line of sight, surprising MC, his intense expression causing her to sit further back in her seat. His mouth pulled at one side into a cocky smirk as he pressed his index finger onto the tip of her nose in a quick tap, then two. “I know I am.”

Jumin hummed to himself as he ran a hand through his perpetually mussed locks and smiled at the thought of his quietly simmering wife still back in her seat. He was about to reach for his toothbrush when a sudden lurch in the aircraft, caused him to lose balance, forcing him to catch himself against the fine countertop. The plane shook and dipped enough for Jumin’s heart to start racing, he could only imagine how MC… wait… MC hated turbulence. The only reason she tolerated flying was because he was always beside her. Mentally cursing himself, he managed to open the door of the bathroom and was about to walk back to his seat when he looked up- MC’s pale and stricken face staring at him from where she sat. Her hands clung to the plush armrests so tightly he could almost see the veins pop out of her arms from the pressure.

He had never seen someone so frightened in their life; her eyes glittering with tears and her mouth open in a silent scream as she watched the cabin fly with objects that weren’t buckled down. Jumin tried to yell out to her, that it would be just fine, that it was just some terrible turbulence and that it would end shortly only to be hushed by her screams.

“Stop! It’s too dangerous! Go back! Go back in there and brace yourself!” she cried as the tears fell down her face. He took one step just as the plane swayed enough for him to bang into the wall, jarring his shoulder, a pained hiss seeping through his teeth. “Listen to me- please- go back!” she bawled, slapping at the armrest hysterically. Jumin clutched at his shoulder and nodded, closing the door behind him and locking it, sliding down between the door and the space between the sink. Was it storming outside? Was there some sort of malfunction in the plane? Did the pilot make an announcement and he just didn’t hear it? All Jumin knew was that MC was all alone, crying and afraid and he wanted nothing more than to crawl over to her- to hold her hand, to pat her hair and reassure her that everything would be fine. Jumin could feel the plane try to right itself, the nose pointing up, all the while still rocking violently back and forth. So forcefully that Jumin had lost his grip between the wall and the sink that his head smacked against the hard stone surface, his vision clouding and his head spinning. He fought to remain awake, his brain telling him that he was most likely concussed and that sleeping would only make their troubles worsen tenfold. But he couldn’t resist the call of the darkness that lurked behind his eyes; the terrifying sound of MC screaming becoming his cursed lullaby.

When he came to he was slumped on the floor, his face plastered against the cold tile, his body aching. Slowly he moved each one of his limbs to test out if he was injured and finding only a stiff shoulder and what felt like would become a striking bruise forming on the side of his head, he seemed perfectly fine. He gingerly pushed himself off the floor and waited until the room had stopped spinning before taking in his surroundings. The mirror was cracked and the bathroom in complete disarray but nothing that couldn’t be patched up in a couple of hours after they had landed. Jumin looked closely at his reflection, a patch of half dried blood where he had hit his head matting down his hair to his forehead, small scratches from the slivers of glass and mirror on the floor all over his cheeks. Ignoring his appearance, he carefully opened the door, unsure if there were things that had flown up against it during the turbulence.

Shattered glass from the stemware littered the floor, bottles of wine smashed and leaking into the cream carpet and… and… half of the plane was missing. When Jumin looked up from the ground to where he had hoped to see his crying wife- there was nothing but empty space. Debris was scattered everywhere and the wires from inside of the plane were sticking out and firing electrical sparks and… where the hell was MC? How long had he been out for? Picking up his pace, Jumin searched every nook and cranny at the end of the plane and came up short each time. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. Keeping a level head despite how his heart pounded in his chest, he knew that the plane could have broken up on impact and she could still safely be on the other part, waiting for him to find her.

Jumin jumped down from the wreckage onto the lush green grass that helped to cushion his impact. He winced as he landed awkwardly, his knees cracking and right ankle rolling under his weight, but still he soldiered on, pushing back the pain to search the field they crashed upon. He circled around him and it looked like an aeronautical graveyard, parts of his private jet thrown every which way he could see. Finally, to the left of him, not even half a mile away was the front of the plane. Jumin hobbled as fast as he could towards it, paying no mind to the smoke that billowed from the site or the fires that were slowly dwindling around it, he had to find her.

He called out, his voice cracking and weak at first; gradually growing louder and more demanding each time only his voice would reply back to him in a hollow, mocking echo. Jumin doubled over with his hands upon his thighs, his breathing rapidly increasing,  desperately trying to trick his mind into believing he was merely winded and not having a panic attack. Cold sweat ran down his back as he forged on, ignoring the searing pain that ran through his body, ignoring the stinging at the back of his eyes or the burn in his throat. He was going to find her. She was going to be fine. They were going to see Ireland even if it was in the comfort of her hospital bed. He was going to find her.

“MC!” he called out again, twisting around in a turn, scanning every bit of rubble and that she could have been covered by, quickly falling into a pit of despair. What if she had flown out from the plane before they landed? Was that possible? What if she was in a completely different place, in pain and alone and he couldn’t get there in time? What if she was already dead-

“Ju… Jumin…”

It was faint, barely above a whisper, but when all he could hear was his own heart- it wasn’t hard to pick the voice that helped keep it beating.

He called out again and again until he heard her call out, louder and louder until he could pinpoint the exact direction she was in. With a speed he didn’t know he had, he ran as best he could over to the corner where only a couple of chairs had fallen, pinning her to the ground. Gritting his teeth and grunting through the pain, he managed to push the heavy seats off of her and let his eyes wander over her body. She looked… fine. Scratches and bruises on her face and along her arms and legs but otherwise- she was intact and smiling up at him. “You’re safe… Thank God! I… I thought you w-were dead,” she sobbed, her arms reaching up for him. Dropping to his knees Jumin released a long sigh of relief as he lay himself down into her open embrace, her heartbeat strong against his ear, her breathing smooth and even, she was fine. He knew it. Right down to his core. He had found her. “I called out for you and you never answered me! I thought I lost you!”

Jumin tightened his arms around her and allowed a few errant tears of joy to squeeze out of the sides of his eyes. “You know I’d never leave you,” he said his voice hoarse with emotion as he pulled up to rest on his forearms to take a good look at her, “wherever you are, I’d find you. Wherever you are, I will be.” He took her lips and kissed her, hoping she would feel the happiness and love he felt right at that moment. MC offered him a brilliant smile as she stroked the sides of his face, wiping away the dirt and sweat that marred his pale skin. “Now come my love, we need to see if we can call for help,” he said as he stood up, offering a hand to her to help her stand. MC hesitated before taking his hand, something Jumin noticed, and thinking she needed some more help to stand, knelt on one knee as he began to help her up. MC yelped abruptly, and stopped when she wasn’t even sitting half way up and Jumin paused, concern flashing over his handsome features. Gently he laid her back down and waited for her face to relax and for her breathing to even out.

“Are you hurt darling?” he asked, swallowing thickly, petrified of her answer. MC looked up to the sky, her eyes filling up with new tears, swallowing back the cries she so anxiously wanted to release. Knowing she couldn’t answer him without revealing how much pain she was in, she merely nodded and continued to stare at anything but him. “Where? Where are you hurt MC?” he asked as he patted her down, pushing and pulling at her clothes to see where her injury may have been hiding. Jumin pulled up the hem of her top and gasped, her entire stomach was swollen and turning into a sickly purple hue. She could have been haemorrhaging and if she didn’t get help quickly- no, no, she was going to be fine. He was there now.

“Can you stand? I’ll carry you to wherever we need to go-” “No Jumin, they’re going to be looking for us in the wreckage, we can't stray far-” “You’re hurt MC- badly at that. You need to let me get you to help-” “I can’t feel my legs Jumin.”

His brain had ceased to work for a second, terror running through his veins. MC couldn’t feel her legs? Perhaps they were just asleep? Or just numb from the cold? He started to rub the flat of his palm up and down her calf, faster and with more pressure, dug his fingers into the muscle, his nails… nothing. Not a flinch. Nothing at all. The sadness in MC’s eyes deepened as she met his, the smallest whimper escaping her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Jumin laughed mirthlessly as his mind worked as fast as it could to try to solve this problem, there was always a solution to every thing and he could always find it. He just needed some more time, that was all.

“Why are you apologising for my love? You did absolutely nothing wrong,” he replied waving away her apology, his hands still massaging at her legs in case there was a chance she could feel his touch. A small warm hand wrapped itself around his bicep and squeezed. “Jumin. Look at me.”

He couldn’t do it. Such a simple request- and he couldn’t. He had looked at her every day for over three years, why was it so difficult to do now? He didn’t want her to see the fear in his eyes, or the panic and helplessness strewn over his face. He didn’t want her to know that he didn’t know what to do, that he was drawing blank and that meant that he was going to fail her. Moreover, he never wanted to see her like this, hurting and scared and with him unable to do a damn thing for her.

“Jumin, please.”

He lifted his head and looked her in the eye and tried his best to look calm for her, so she could keep calm and not exacerbate her injuries. They could still make it through this, he knew it. Help couldn’t be far away.

“Jumin, I love you. So very much my darling,” she said with a sad smile on her face, her hand still holding his arm. “But you need to accept the fact that I am probably not going to-” “Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, not willing to let her finish her sentence. “Am I… Jumin, you need to listen to me-” “It’s so cold here. I think I saw some blankets and some pillows over there. I’ll be right back.” “Jumin! I don’t need- Jumin!”

He wasn’t going to hear it, he didn’t want to, didn’t need to. She was trying to say goodbye and that just wasn’t necessary, not when she was going to live. What he needed was to find those pillows and blankets like he said he was going to and keep them as comfortable as possible before the rescue found them. No, what he needed to do was contact Assistant Kang and organise for the best rehabilitation therapists in the world to come and help MC learn to walk again and failing that, to get in touch with builders to make their house more access friendly- or perhaps just ask a realtor to find a new house for them to live in entirely- one were there could be a treatment room for the therapists to live in and stay on to provide around the clock care… perhaps he’d get engineers to design the best automated wheelchair for MC… he had so many things he had to think about there was no need for MC to … cold. She was probably cold. Focus on one thing at a time Jumin. She needs you to focus.

Hurrying back and carefully placing the pillow beneath her head and layering the blankets on top of her, Jumin sat beside her held her hand as his mind continued to tick over and plan everything he may need to do to aid in her recovery. “Ju-Jumin…”

When had her hand gotten so cold? “P-please… you need to l-listen to me,” she begged, her fingers intertwining with his, softly squeezing. Jumin could feel his resolve breaking, he could never deny her anything. Even this.

“I am, I always listen to you,” he said despairingly, his mouth twisting into a sad frown no matter how hard he tried to lift it up into a smile for her.

“Good. I love you.” “I love you.” “I… I don’t think I’ll be able to see the sights w-with you anymore Jumin,” she tried to joke, her ripples of laughter turning into sad gasps of breath at the way her husband’s jaw clenched and the way his hand tightened around hers. “I don’t think I’ll get to do a lot of things with you.” Jumin suppressed the sound he wanted to make in the back of his throat, strangling himself with the pain he kept inside so he could still appear strong for MC. “I promised you a life together and I couldn’t even give you a decade-” “Please, I beg of you, do not apologise. Do not apologise for the time we had together,” he pleaded, the tightness in his chest making it hard for him to breathe. “They have been the happiest I have ever been.”

“I’m… I’m not. I’m apologising that I couldn’t give you more. You deserve more Jumin, I wanted to give you m-more.”

“You will love, you will,” he contested, shaking her hand in rebuttal as he peppered the skin on the back with firm kisses. Colder. She had gotten colder. Not yet.

“I want to.” “And so you will. Whatever you want MC, you will have it. A lifetime with me. Two. Twelve. We will have it, believe in it. In me,” he urged as he moved to lay down beside her. Wrapping his long arms around her body he drew her in as close to him as he could, running his hands over the dips and curves of her body, reminding her how he loved every inch of her; memorising every inch of her.

“I do, I always have… that’s why I know, I know you’re going to be okay,” she smiled as she reached to touch his face, Jumin leaning into the cup of her hand. “You’re the most amazing person I have ever met Juju- there is nothing you can’t do. Nothing you can’t defeat. So, I… I be-believe that you will beat this.” “No, no you’re wrong,” he shook his head, holding her smaller hand against his face, desperate to keep the feel of her skin upon his for as long as possible. He wasn’t daft, her voice had gotten weaker, her breathing shallower and her words slurred into one another, her body was so cold that not even two thick blankets and his body heat could warm her. The pulse under his fingertips in her wrist- it had slowed down alarmingly and… and it wasn’t getting stronger. He was losing her. And if she thought for one second that he would be able to continue on as he had before without her, she was sorely mistaken. Underestimating the level of need she had cast over him. She was the reason he woke up in the morning and the reason he could sleep through the night- it was al forl her. How could she even think that he could be anything without her in his life? “I’m not…” “We made a promise. That you would live for me and that I would live for you. In our vows, in front of our friends and family and God, so how can I do that without you beside me?” he reasoned with her, ready to bargain with her to live. He would offer her power, money, fame anything- all the love he could muster in a lifetime to shower upon her everyday- he would gladly do it, so long as there was an everyday with her. “I… the promise means more… if… if you live for me, in honour of my memory.” “Don’t ask me to do this, please-” “-I need to-” “You don’t! You don’t!” he challenged, pressing his forehead against hers. “You can stay. Right here, with me. You don’t need to talk, don’t need to fulfil any promises today. Except one- don’t leave me.” “Ju-” “I need you.” “Jum-” “So make me this new promise, hmm? Promise me that you’re going to be with me, always. We live together. We die together. Not today. Fifty years from now when we’re old and grey and warm in bed and lost in our dreams. We can have that, MC. Please, promise me!” he begged as her eyes slowly began to shut. God- no- have mercy. Not yet. Not today. Just a little bit longer please.

“-Jumin…” He gave up, he needed to let her say whatever it was she thought she had to say. Goodbye. I love you. Live well. All those adages he’d heard in sappy movies that had never once moved him and yet  now, on the verge of hearing it himself, could barely hide the emotion it evoked within him. Listen to her, just one more time, she has never led you astray.

“Jumin… please… I can’t f-feel my legs… tell Elizabeth to move.”

What? What was she talking about? Was she hallucinating? Did she… did she think she was at home? In bed with him?

… small mercies indeed my Lord.

“Yes. I’ve moved her- is that better my love?” he asked choking on his words as he watched her, refusing to blink, unable to let one microsecond of her life pass by before his eyes, even as his vision flooded with tears. Grey eyes focused on the serene expression MC wore on her face, the way her mouth had turned upwards in a contented smile and nuzzled into her pillow- just like she did every night at home- she had just thought she was going to sleep…

“Mmhhmm… thanks…” “My- my pleasure-” “...I’m cold…”

“Here… take my blanket,” he whispered as he draped his jacket over her, her smile growing as the warmth and scent of him made their way into the last vestiges of her consciousness.

“… Thanks.”

“Is that better?”

“-Hm… ”

Jumin watched as her chest rose up once more before falling for the last.

“Sleep well, my love.”

Half frozen fingers traced over fine eyelashes. Down the graceful slope of her nose. The seams of her lips. The dip in her neck. Her hair, her beautiful hair. Over and over in a loop, he couldn’t stop. They lay there in the ruins of his life, with her in his arms, for hours before help arrived. He had half hoped that they wouldn’t, that they would leave them there alone until death took pity on him and let him join his wife. We live together, we die together, right?

He barely registered when the crew had come, their thick accents making it hard for the disoriented man to understand them, not that he was trying very hard. They poked and prodded him as he shoved them off, uncaring about his minor injuries, all he could process was the white sheet they had placed over her face as they were about to wheel her into the back of the ambulance. “Wait- no- don’t do that. Don’t cover her face!” he snapped as he lunged forward, ripping the fabric from her.

“We’re sorry Mr. Han-” “Just leave me. Leave us.” He stopped listening to them as they continued to talk, climbing in beside her on the gurney. He slipped his hand beneath her head and held her. His mind flashed back to their final moments alone together where he had spoken to her like they used to do in bed when his mind couldn’t rest; just normal, mundane things that didn’t matter but just let him relax. On the cold, hard dirt, with his breath visible in the cold night air- Jumin spoke of the future. How she had to get up early the day after they got back from their holiday because of that merger they had, or how he would have to find a new groomer for Elizabeth the Third because he didn’t like how her fur was styled last time and how he dreaded the upcoming dinner with his father and his latest girlfriend. Even in the silence, Jumin was convinced he could almost hear her answer him.

Throwing the sheet over the both of them, just like he did for them at home as they slept in each other’s arms, he turned her over so she lay flush against him with her pretty face positioned towards his, Jumin tapped at her nose once and then twice.

“You are so lucky I love you…”

“I know. I was. Not anymore.”

His luck had run its course.

“I… I should have let you go to the bathroom first… I don’t know why I didn’t. Some stupid notion of fun and games… people always said I wasn’t funny. I failed you as a gentleman and as a husband because I wanted to be fun and stupid and... Look where we are now. If only I had… If I had just let you go… you’d be alive instead of me. You would be here, alive and well. You… you were wrong MC. You are the strong one, the one that could go on, the one that’d be okay. I… I am the one who is sorry.”

Coiling his body around her smaller one, Jumin finally released the dam he had been unconciously holding onto for hours. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his tears collecting in her strands of hair, like little diamonds adorning her. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do next. There were no plans for this, no contingency. He had never planned on living on without his wife- yet there he was, in the back of an ambulance, grasping onto her dead body desperately, his only anchor to the world.

His fingers gripped into her form, his tears stained her clothes, his heavy, drowning sobs reverberated around the ambulance. He didn’t care if the paramedics could see him, he didn’t care if the whole world could see him- they could all watch as he mourned the loss of his wife, friend and saviour. They could all cry with him.

The Pilots. The flight attendants. His wife. He was the only survivor.  The papers sensationalised his survival. Said it was a miracle.  Yet again, the media had gotten it wrong. Miracle they said. Sole Survivor the said.  Fools. No one made it out of there alive.

The doctors said not to drink with the pain medication they had put him on to deal with his fractured skull, but he had no wish to keep up the charade of living.

The doctors lied. The drugs had no effect. The alcohol had no effect. He was still alive, and everything still hurt.

He barely remembered being taken onto the plane back to Korea, stinking of booze and determined to sleep his life away. Jumin swayed within his chair, minutes passing by before he recognised the feel of weightlessness and the very particular smell of the air freshener in the air- he was in another company jet. He turned his sight to look before him, a shock of bright blue hair and sad eyes filling his vision- unable to stomach the pity the man radiated, he looked beside him, to what should have been MC’s chair- empty.

It would always be empty.

Digging his blunt nails into the fine leather of the seat, Jumin cocked his head to the side to stare outside, the choppy waves of the sea more interesting than his best friend or the painful reminder of all that he had lost.

When Jumin asked for a bottle of wine, no one thought to stop him.

When he asked for two glasses, no one thought to question him.

When he poured one glass and placed it in front of V and then another on the table directly beside him- and then began to drink from the bottle- no one had the heart the right to take the glass away.

He entered his penthouse, yes, it was just his once again, and shooed V away- he didn’t need him hovering over him and worrying about every little thing he said or did. He just wanted to be alone. Drunk and sad and alone. That was all he could handle.

Dropping his… and her… suitcase on the floor beside the bed, Jumin let himself fall back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling. How many nights had he stared at the same ceiling before he met her and felt like it was going to cave in on him? Now it seemed like the bed was moving closer and closer to it, the feeling of claustrophobia washing over him out of nowhere. Gasping he sat up, cradling his head. He was probably too drunk. Was there such a thing?

Soft mewls caught his attention as Elizabeth the Third sat upon MC’s luggage, her pristine ivory tail fanning back and forth, questioning him. Where is she? She’s gone. Where? Gone. When is she coming back? Never. What did you do? Nothing. Where is she?… Gone.

Her caterwauling grew more persistent as she explored the apartment as if she didn’t believe him, before returning to her perch on her bag, meowing loudly as her tail brushed noisily against the material of the suitcase. “Elizabeth… please.” Meow. “Elizabeth-” Meow.

“Elizabeth! ENOUGH!” he roared, throwing a cushion towards his beloved pet. The cat bounded away easily, clearly shocked that her normally calm and kind owner had such a violent outburst. “She’s not here! She’s not coming back! It’s me and you so you have to get used to it! I do- so you stop crying there as if you’re the one who has been hard done by! So stop crying- stop crying!” he yelled at the stunned feline, her big blue eyes watching him, a wary expression on her face. Jumin took in a shuddering breath as he wiped at his eyes, using his sleeves to soak up the tears that he didn’t even know he had shed. “Stop crying.”

But he couldn’t. He sat there for what felt like hours with his head in his hands, bent over between his knees, weeping, howling, begging. Where were the loving arms that encased him with warmth and love at times of distress? Where were the soothing words and hushed sounds in his ears to calm him? Where was she? All these questions and no good answers.

Elizabeth the Third jumped from her spot to rub herself against Jumin’s leg, rubbing her face against his calves until the man picked her up. Holding her steady he looked at her in the eye before his face crumpled once more at the sound of her soft meow. “I’m sorry Elizabeth the Third- I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. I know… I know… I miss her too.”  

“Elizabeth the Third please get off my-”

Her final words, her final moments, they haunted him. In his dreams and even in waking, they haunted him.

He paused, his heart stopping mid-sentence. Jumin released a harsh, jarring breath as his trembling hand covered his mouth; small, almost imperceptible whimpers falling from his lips. Blinking back the stinging in his eyes and biting down on his bottom lip to silence his already muted cries, Jumin reached over to the half empty glass of wine on his bedside table and took a drink. The taste of his own tears mixing with the fine port, so often blending on his palate, he forgot what the wine tasted like before.

Jumin handed all the details of the funeral to MC’s family, feeling he had no right to plan any celebration of her life when his careless, stupid mistake cost them to lose such a precious being. His one request was to be able to spend some time alone with her before they closed the coffin, to see that beautiful face one more time before they took her away from him forever.

He sat in a room more than an hour before the ceremony with her lying peacefully in the finest mahogany coffin that money could buy, the rich brown tones accentuating how pale she had become, lying there lifeless like a perfect marble carving of her. Jumin did not hesitate to hold her hand, cold and limp in his grip, but skin still so smooth he couldn’t help but run the pad of his thumb over the back of it.

“My love… would it be selfish for me to wish it were me who died? For you to be the one in my place and me in yours- you’d know the words to say, the right things to do- I… I know nothing. Is it grief that I feel? Is it numb? Am I angry? Or distraught? These feelings inside me… I… I don’t know how to feel them without you. I can’t seem to make heads or tails of what’s happening and all I know is that… I’m not happy. I know what happiness was, remember what it felt like. It was every time I was with you. And now- now I just feel… this empty space where happiness used to be.”

Jumin stood up and leaned over the edge of the coffin to take a long look at her resting features. Still so beautiful, as if she were truly just asleep, ready for him to wake her up with a kiss. He placed one trembling kiss to her forehead, stole one desperate embrace and one lingering caress of her cheek- and then spun on his heel and walked away, knowing if he turned around he would never be able to leave her side.

He couldn’t even remember what he had said at the mass. Were there some scriptures in there? Did he say her favourite quotes? Or did he speak of the love and light she brought into his world? The memories that he held closest to his heart all painted by her hand? He may very well have stood at the front of the church and cried for twenty minutes and he wouldn’t have known the difference. Jumin could only hope, no matter what he said or did, that he conveyed just how much he adored his wife- and that if he were able to have another chance with her in another life- even if the time were just as short or even shorter; he would never hesitate. He would choose her each time.

How he had ended up in a seedy bar drinking with Zen of all people, he would never know. He remembered the actor saying something about needing to talk to him after the funeral and waited back until everyone had left the wake. He simply handed him his coat and asked Driver Kim to take them to the dark, quiet bar that barely held three people in it. The bartender seemed to know Zen and welcomed him with a warm, friendly greeting before throwing down two beers down the counter which Zen caught easily, handing one of them to Jumin.

Scowling at the foul-smelling beverage but not wanting to seem ungrateful, he took a swig and tried his best not to spit out the amber coloured poison. Before he knew it, he was on his sixth beer and barely listening to his drinking partner’s inane chatter. Something about the way MC had once visited him on set with a lunchbox of food or another time she had sent him a picture of a sleeping Jumin with Elizabeth happily tucked away in his arms- asking which sleeping beauty would cause him more pain to wake up next to. He laughed saying that he had to begrudgingly admit that he chose him over the damn furball.

Tipping the bottle up to drain the last of the beer into his mouth, he carefully placed it back into the collection of bottles they had neatly arranged into a wall on the counter. He looked at Zen still lost in his fond memories of his dearly departed wife, a wistful but hopeful look on his face. “Zen…” “Hm?” “Why… why are you doing this?” he asked as he reached into his pocket to pull out some money to pay for the tab before getting up to leave. Zen pushed his money back and flashed him an insulted look. “What do you mean?” “What I mean is… you didn’t have to do this. What is it? Is everyone under orders from V to look after me in turns? You drew the short straw to have to babysit me today?” he snapped, a sudden burst of alcohol fueled irritation flooding him as he thought of his best friend planning such a demeaning thing behind his back. His rage was quelled the moment he heard the younger man chuckle, the sound empty and devoid of any joy. “Two reasons none of which involve V.  One… whether we like to admit it or not, we’re friends. So I will be here for you no matter what. Two…well...  because she asked me to,” he replied taking another mouthful of his beer before turning to look at him, giving him ample time to understand what it was he had just said. Blinking slowly, the cogs in his mind spun, she had asked him to? What… what did that mean? In like a dream? In the kind of dreams where he could see things- was he talking to MC? Could that mean…  could he talk to her through him? Don’t be ridiculous Jumin, you’re not that drunk to entertain such drivel. “Yeah… sometime last year we were having lunch on set- I think you were in a meeting or something- and she just looked at me and made me swear. Told me, ‘Zen, if anything were to happen to me, you’d look after Jumin right? He has V but he needs someone who will snap him out of his misery- someone who won’t be afraid to talk back to him.’ You shoulda seen my face when she finished asking cos apparently it was so hilarious she couldn’t stop laughing,” he grinned as he recalled the chiming laughter that filled the trailer as they ate. “So yeah, how could I say no to that?

Jumin looked down at the dusty bar top, his tears falling down to mar the woods surface. She had thought about him, all that time, she had a plan- a contingency. A way to continue looking after him even after she was gone. Of course she did.  He didn’t have any words, for her or Zen that could ever describe how he felt, so he waved to the barman and signaled for another two beers. Clinking the bottles together, Jumin gave Zen a nod which he returned, the two drinking away the hours together in simple companionable silence.

Thank you.

    He knew what people thought, he could hear their whispers and snide remarks as he passed them, he could read all about them in the gossip tabloids. He also knew that he was fortunate enough not to give a damn about anyone else’s opinions. Jumin was well aware they thought he was crazy and weird and creepy for doing what he did, but he knew that MC wouldn’t have, after all she was one of the only people who truly understood him and his intentions. She would have smiled that sweet smile of hers and squeezed his hand and would have told him to do whatever made him happy. This… this had made him happy.

He had taken some of her ashes and had them sent away to be made into diamonds. He couldn’t think of anything more fitting for his wife’s legacy than to be made into something as beautiful and strong as she was in life. She was transformed into two perfectly crafted diamond cufflinks. People gave him funny looks, asking him why not a necklace? I don’t wear necklaces. How about a new ring? I still wear my wedding ring. Why cufflinks? Because.

Jumin smiled as he fingered the precious gems in his sleeves.

It was MC who had noticed it first. Whenever he was nervous or agitated he would fiddle with the cuffs of his shirts and twisted whichever pair of cufflinks he had chosen to wear that day. She decided to remedy his old compulsion by taking his hand into hers whenever he would start to fidget- and just like that- as if it were magic, he felt calm, reassured and safe. So, by that measure, having her with him like this was the equivalent to her holding his hand. It was a small comfort and not one he knew many would understand, but he was always different from most people - and that was what MC had loved about him.

Looking up at the stars from his balcony, none of which were as bright as those he wore at his wrists, he smiled as he sipped on her favourite wine and stroked Elizabeth the Third who was sitting on his lap. Jumin remembered the last time they were up there all together, MC’s legs outstretched before her and feet resting on his thighs- play fighting with the cat to take the top spot upon his person. “No you silly kitty, Daddy wants to rub Mummy’s feet- no- hey! Don’t you hiss at me woman! Who lets you cuddle up on their legs when you’re cold huh? Not Daddy that’s for sure! Aye! Jumin control your cat!” “Who doesn’t want two beautiful women vying for his attention?” “Jumin!”

Jumin found himself chuckling at the memory, the first one in a long time that didn’t leave a sting at the back of his throat or a pain in his chest, one that reminded him of what felt like to feel joy. Touching the cufflinks fondly with a small smile on his face, he felt a familiar warmth flow through him as if she were right there beside him. “I found you once, I will find you again,” he said as he lifted the wine glass to the air. “Until then, my love.”

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin x mc #angst #jumin han #tragedy #mysme #mysmes #angstfest #angstfest prompt 1

[novas-original-projects]

Side Story

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP "Ah!" Lumin sits up in his bed, heart racing. He turns off his alarm and checks the time. He woke up to his second alarm. No time for breakfast. He sighs. He's used to this by now.

He gets up, takes a shower, dries his hair and gets dressed. He decides to just walk to work. When he passes by a guard.

"Taking your time? When you're late? M

an, you've got some balls. I wish I had the courage for that." The guard says.

"L-late? I'm not late! I may actually be on time."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work half an hour ago? It's 8:30 now."

"Oh... oh no! I am late!! Oh jeeze!" Lumin runs to the castle, going as fast as he can. But he ends up crashing into a fruit stand. He topples the stand over and lands in a pile of watermelons.

"Are you okay?!" Asks the young man.

Lumin slowly moves to get up. The young man offers a helping hand and Lumin accepts, embarrassed. Lumin apologizes profusely.

"It's okay. Hey! You're the royal messenger, right?"

"Y-yes..."

"Well than you better keep hurrying off to work! Don't worry about this, nothing I can't fix. It isn't the first time either. So I'm no novist! Now hurry! Or you'll be late!"

"I-I'm already late... are you sure I can't help?"

"It's fine! It's fine! Thank you but I got this."

"O-okay. Sorry. B-bye..." Lumin mumbles before running off towards the castle. He bursts inside, slips on the floor, crashes into the hall and begrudgingly walks to the throne room. There sits the king, impatient and hungover. Lumin knows this is going to be a long day.

"Lumin. Great. What's your excuse this time." The king groans.

"I... uh... well..."

"Oh. My. Lord. FFFucking. Stop."

"U-uhm... s-ssorry."

"Uuugghh my gooodnessssss. Lumin. Honey. I am SO tiiirrred of this. Could you just do your damn job on time? I would absolutely behead if you weren't actually really good at your job. If you were good at your job I would fire you. But you're rreeeaallly good at your job. Be. Fucking. Thankful."

"Th-th...thank you..."

"Ugh. Now go deliver stuff and bring me things. Like the good little messenger you are."

"Y-yes..." Lumin leaves. He thinks his job is pretty mundane, what with modern technology. But he does his job anyways. He brings his king some hangover cures, delivers various items across wonderland to and from his king of hearts, and he takes few breaks. He runs at super speed to reach his destinations, he's faster than a running horse. That allows him to make more trips through the day than the average means of transportation.

On one trip back he spots Amsi and Alex hanging out at the city gardens, feeding the fountain koi. He at first goes to wave to them but he instead hides behind a building and watches them smile at each other and laugh. He furrows his brow in jealousy and goes around the area, being later than usual in order to avoid being spotted by the two. He is thinking so much on those two that he doesn't even hear the king's lecture on time.

He heads out on his break and sits at a bakery/café run by the March Hare. The twins both greet him when he comes in.

"Lumin!" Cheers Dee.

"What's up?" Smiles Dum.

"Oh... the usual..." Lumin sighs.

"Work sucks doesn't it?" Dum agrees.

"I like work!" Cheers Dee.

Lumin places his order and Dee goes to make his food and tea.

"Hey, I bet you heard." Dum smirks.

"Heard what?" Lumin questions.

"Heard the news!" Giggles Dee.

"You must've heard."

"Everyone's heard."

"Everyone knows."

"You must know."

The two tease and chatter until Lumin asks the specific question, "What is news are you going to tell me about?"

"Alice is back!" The two shout happily causing Lumin to jump.

"I-I know that already." Lumin replies, adjusting his glasses. "I brought him to the castle. He's..."

"He?" Questions Dee.

"Him?" Questions Dum.

"U-uhm... yeah. He. Alex. His name isn't Alice anymore."

"Not Alice?"

"But she's still Alice, right?"

"Yeah! She is still Alice. So why change her name?"

"Um... I don't know... But Alex still sounds similar to Alice. So, I think he still wants to be Alice."

"Did someone make her change her name?"

"He- um- I- uh...." Lumin gets flustured and blushes, his ears going down. He sips his drink. "I don't know." He mumbles.

"Where is Alice?" Asks Dee.

"After work we should ask her ourselves!" Remarks Dum.

"Yeah!" Agrees Dee.

"U-uh I- ...Alex is hanging out with Cheshire cat right now. I don't know when he'll get back to the castle." Lumin caves in.

"Is that where she's staying?" Dee asks.

"Y-yes..." Lumin admits.

"Well we'll just meet her there tonight." Dum pouts.

"Yeah! Tonight!" Cheers Dee.

Lumin immediately regrets ever saying anything and is blushing out of embarassment and anxiety. He tries desperately to fix it but all he can do is stutter, mumble and cut himself off. He can't seem to choke out any coherent words. Even if he did, what could he say? He doesn't want to be rude. But he also doesn't want to be at fault for the twins pestering Alex. He's sure Alex will have a long tiring day hanging out with that bothersome cat. He doesn't want to cause extra stress. But it's too late, the twins already made up their minds and nothing can stop them.

"Oh what have I done?" Mumbles Lumin under his breath.

"What's that?" Asks Dum.

"N-nothing!" Panics Lumin. Dee and Dum look at each other and shrug.

"Get back to work you pesky twins!" Barks the March Hare as he leaves the kitchen of the Café. He tosses the towel into the sink as he walks away and finishes drying his hands.

"I just put in a new batch of doughnuts and I don't want them to burn! Keep an eye out for them while I make myself a cup of coffee!"

"Y-yes!" The twins both say as they skitter off into the kitchen.

The March Hare sighs as he approaches Lumin. "Those kids..."

"H-hi... M-March..."

"Hello, Rabbit. On break are you? Had a busy day?"

"Oh yes... like usual..." Mopes Lumin.

"Haha well I got those kids to leave you alone so you can enjoy your break! Now you better enjoy it and an extra coffee on the house!" Smiles March.

"Oh no I couldn't accept!"

"Oh come on, Lumin. Don't deny a gift from a friend!"

"...okay... thank you."

"My pleasure. Enjoy your break!"

Before he can even drink his coffee he gets a series of texts. He checks his phone and sees that the king has been texting him asking where he is with the tea. Lumin sighs, rolls his eyes and gets up.

"I guess I'm leaving now..." Lumin tells March Hare.

"Oh? Okay. Stay strong!" March Hare responds from behind the counter.

Two customers come in as Lumin leaves. He goes to the castle with the bag of ingredients from the Kingdom of Spades, brews the tea and brings the cup to the throne room. The king sits on the throne reading a folder. He blindly reaches out and grabs a cup from Lumin's hand. Before Lumin can say anything the king takes a huge drink before spewing it out.

"Lumin! This is coffee!! You know I hate coffee!" Yells Florus.

Lumin holds the tea as he just looks surprised that even happened. "Th-this is your tea..." Lumin mumbles.

"What??" Florus sternly asks.

"Th-this is yours! Your tea!" Lumin frantically states as he offers the tea.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?!" Shouts Florus.

Lumin just cannot seem to find the courage to speak up. He just quietly stands there while Florus takes out his frustration on him. Evenually Florus takes his tea and sends Lumin on his way, giving the coffee back. Lumin heads to a washroom, locks the door, pours out the coffee in the sink and sits on the recently cleaned floor. He tucks his knees in and sighs. He wipes a tear from his eye and cleans his glasses. He counts to ten.

I will be calm when I count to ten. I will be calm and ready to continue on with my day.

"1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10. I am calm. I am ready to finish the day. 10. I am calm and ready to finish the day. 10. Nothing will stop me. 10. Minor setbacks will only slow me down but I will catch up. 10. I am calm. I am fully capable. 10. I am calm."

He sighs again. He stands up, dusts himself off, sighs, washes his hands and leaves the washroom.

The rest of the day is him running around and doing errands. He gets party supplies and helps to set up the party. Soon, his work comes to a close. He is invited to join the party but his exhaustion just leads him home and into bed. On his way home he finds himself thinking about seeing Alex and Amsi together. The thoughts upset him, he just simply cannot trust that cat. Who knows what trouble Amsi would get Alex into. Or what romantic advances would Amsi make? Oh that terrible cat.

As soon as Lumin gets into bed he falls into a deep sleep. He dreams of Amsi and Alex flirting, laughing and teasing. Suddenly they're holding hands. They're cuddling. Amsi is proposing. They're getting married. Lumin watches this all. His jealousy and fears getting the better of him. But he realizes that those thoughts are foolish and insecure. He realizes that more likely Amsi would accidentally get Alex killed. Now Lumin is presented with graphic and dramatic scenes of Alex dying over and over again. All because of Amsi. Lumin can't take anymore. He wakes up in a jolt then curls into a ball.

He hates nightmares.

#lumin #part 12 #part 13 #side story #extra story #bonus #bonus story #dont call me alice #don't call me alice! #alice in wonderland #alex in wonderland #white rabbit #long reads #long post #long read

[rueur]

Morning Pages (05.01.2017)

Thursday 5th Jan - 7:37 a.m.

I’m already feeling skeptical about this whole morning pages idea. I feel really groggy, and my teeth hurt and my eyes hurt. I need to fart, and my fingers feel really weird typing right now. I don’t think I had a rough night though. I woke up at 3 a.m., maybe halfway through 3 a.m., with my right ear turning all liquidy so I had to wash my fingers, naturally. I flicked on the lamp, checked to see that Fish was still alive (because he swallowed this piece of grass whole yesterday, like it ran the length of his body and I thought he would choke on it and die), and then washed my hands in the dim bathroom. I then climbed back in bed and tried to fall back asleep but it took a while, honestly. I was conscious of how dark it was when I got back in bed and then felt like something was touching my legs again, my feet I mean. And then I thought I’d have to sleep on my other side because of my ear, but I couldn’t do that because I was paranoid that there was something in the room with me. I’ve paused now. I’m not writing. I feel like it’s hard for me to write about this fear of mine. I only get it when I sleep alone. I feel like it’s a defense mechanism to loneliness: fear of being in the presence of spirits. Because really, being here alone was my choice. Being alone at home, sleeping alone at home, is technically not really my choice but I made peace with it. Kind of. Before I came here, it was hard for me to fall asleep in the dark. I think that when I go back home, it’ll still be hard for me to fall asleep in the dark, because I know that my grandma is at home. Or Bugger. I don’t mind if Bugger is still keeping me company, because I love him. I really do. But I also want him to move on. His life as a dog was so tragic, he deserves something better. I don’t want him to be stuck as a tragic ghost dog. Like when Jasper dies, I think I’ll want him to move on immediately. Hopefully Jasper will live a long cat life though.

I felt like putting a paragraph here to not make this seem as rambly as it’s naturally going to be. This is stream-of-consciousness anyway. I’m also constantly worrying about how I’m going to store this stuff. I was thinking of putting it all on a blog? Like every morning I’d add a 3-page entry (or thereabouts) of my stream-of-consciousness morning page of the day. I don’t think I have enough space on Google Drive, so I think I’ll need to put it somewhere else. And my laptop doesn’t have enough space either. I need to get that fixed.

I’ve paused again. I tried to read what I’d written, but I know that I can’t. Julia Cameron said not to in ‘The Artist’s Way’. Lord help me, I hope something comes out of this trial. I think that something will have to; everyone else who’s tried this on Goodreads has said that it helped them. Anyway, I think I should keep talking about 3 a.m. last night, to be honest with you. I tried falling back asleep, I tried sleeping on my other side, and could do neither. Then, begrudgingly, I got up, lifted the blind an inch or so, and then went back to sleep. Wait, no, I turned the lamp back on and tried to sleep with the lamp on but I couldn’t do that to Fish. It was too bright and I’m constantly afraid that I might kill Fish. Fish is not my fish, by the way. He is a near-twelve year-old goldfish who got attacked, like mauled, by a cat when he was around five years old. Emily told me this. And when they found him they thought he was dead. But a couple of hours later, he started twitching and trying to breathe, and Emily rushed to get him back into the water and somehow, miraculously, he made a full recovery and is still alive like seven years later! This is an OLD goldfish, who has undeniably lived. And I need to keep him alive? But so far, so good. I started house-sitting on the 17th of December and now it’s the 5th of January, and I will be here until the 23rd of January. Emily is my old drama teacher. She lives in a small one bedroom apartment in Northcote; she posted on Facebook a while ago that she was looking for a house-sitter/pet-sitter for the summer and I volunteered immediately. I would’ve done it for free because I’ve always wanted to live in Northcote. It’s honestly beautiful. But she’s paying me, $100 a week. Which I’m not complaining about, I’ll need money before the semester starts because I know I’ll have nothing left besides my savings at the end of this year, if I don’t get a job. I quit my old job and Thailander, this Thai restaurant. They were paying illegal wages. I was getting $13 an hour, and I was also being pretty overworked. I quit at a time back when a lot of people were quitting, actually. At the time that I was quitting, Bao and Winnie (my old bosses) were losing not just me, but also Waen and Doro. Waen (whose name is actually also Winnie, but because of bosslady Winnie, we had to call her Waen) was a backpacker/student from Thailander who came to Melbourne to work so that she could take holidays from her jobs on her holiday and then go road tripping around Australia. In her year here, I think she saw more of the country than I’ve seen. I’m pretty sure she went to Central Australia, and Western Australia, and I haven’t been there. And Doro is a very philosophical chef, who I still have on Facebook (I have Waen too, she’s very artistic) and whose page is filled every day with the most inspiring, assuring stuff. It’s kind of refreshing. Anyway, those two (aside from L as well), were the people I loved working with the most. L was the head chef at Thailander. He was so good at his job that he was actually paid minimum wage, but damn did he deserve double that at the least.

My shoulders are getting really tired from typing this out. And it is fast approaching 8 a.m. and I’ll need to get up and feed the cats soon. I’m a little anxious about that. Emily has two cats too: Bruno and Romulus (Romy). Bruno is thirteen and has seen more death-defying action in his life than even Fish. Bruno was hit by a car twice, and to make things even worse, he has recently been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, and also his pancreas has trouble functioning. SO, he doesn’t take in nutrients properly, his hips have been displaced permanently and when he walks it’s always with a bit of a limp and also slightly veering to the right. I have to give him two sets of medication two times a day: a capsule mushed in with his wet food, and thyroid cream rubbed into his ears. Romy is the most low maintenance of the bunch, and the fluffiest, and the fattest. He’s seven, and apparently he was a wild cat before Emily adopted him. Emily says that the stray instincts are still with him.

Oh man, I didn’t even finish talking about Thailander. Fish is looking at me like he wants food. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl fish, I’ve just been calling it a male this whole time but I honestly have no idea, nor does Emily. Ugh, this morning pages thing is getting quite old. Right now it just feels like a diary to me. This isn’t even stream-of-consciousness, I’m just writing about my life. Maybe I’m doing it wrong? But Julia Cameron said there’s no wrong way of doing it, as long as you get three pages out. I have to admit that the original settings for this word document were Arial font, at size 11 and I changed it to size 12 so I’d have to write less. But I think size 12 is reasonable.

I just scrolled down to look at how blank the rest of this final page is and it’s stressing me out. I have something pulling at my back. Not a presence, just a tired muscle. Then I shouldn’t say ‘I have something pulling’ should I? I should just say, there’s a muscle in my back that’s causing me grief. I took a second to sit up just then, because I didn’t like lying on my stomach. And as soon as I sat up, I felt all the blood rush to my head. I’ve been lying down for so long. I kept waking up at 5 a.m., 6 a.m., 6:30 a.m., and kept thinking ‘maybe I should do the three pages now, or now...or now!’ and kept making myself fall back asleep. When I saw 7:30 a.m., I just had to get up. I was tempted to write them at 3 a.m. when I couldn’t sleep, because I was wide awake and it was technically morning, and I was also feeling a lot at the time. I was afraid. I opened the blinds a little and then tried sleeping with the lamp off but more natural light coming in from the street, and I thought it would be fine. But then the bottom of the blind started hitting the window frame in the night breeze. I stared at it with frustration for some time, timing how often it happened, and then decided to finally say that I was being ridiculous (fuck it! I didn’t know if I was going to allow myself to swear in these pages, I feel like I swear too much), rolled over onto my other side and fell asleep! Who knew that all you needed to get a job done was an overwhelmingly stubborn desire to just get that job done!

Anyway, back to Thailander. I miss L. I miss Hassan, the cute Pakistani chef I worked with on Sundays (11/12 - 9 p.m.) rolling into work super late and super hungover. I miss that whole work environment, honestly. But my restaurant shut down after Doro, Waen and I left. Two of their restaurants shut down actually, out of their original four. Now it’s just the little place in the QV basement, and their very first store on Collins Street. I also miss working in the city, and working in hospitality in the city. I meet a lot of really interesting people. I met Isaac, and Greg, and Andrew. Isaac is a pianist and a musical director. Very talented, very young, very busy. Greg works in set design. He’s a grizzled dude in singlets and he has a big, greyish beard and he’s gluten free. So is Isaac, actually. And they knew each other but they never came in to eat at the same time. Isaac only came in a handful of times though, and while he never left a tip, he did leave his phone number, which was cute. Okay, I’m out of pages. I’ll tell you about Andrew tomorrow morning then?

#morning pages #stream of consciousness #or at least it's supposed to be #1 #05.01.2017