#traumedical

[clawsextended]

@traumedical asked: "Stop   before   I   kiss   you." (From Randi @ traumedical)

her sentence comes to a screeching halt. probably, randi doesn’t mean it to, but these little tokens of affection — these little kindnesses — are shocking to her. she laughs, loud, once, that awkward bark at herself. she forgot what she was saying. (it was nonsense trying to explain a torque wrench. specifically, why she doesn’t like a digital one near as much as a manual one.)

she laughs again.

and stares flat into the cappuccino with that pretty heart foamed in. half smiling, she bites her lip. a little.

“uh. s— orry?” comes her hesitant response. it’s all she can think to say.

[terr1fy]

DERAN POPE: SIGN SAYS ‘CLOSED’.

‘yeah, i saw it,’ the bell above the door echoed throughout an otherwise empty bar, but that, nor the sound of deran’s rough voice would halt reed in his stride. boots clicked against the floorboards as he approached the counter, looking too smug for his own good. when he finally stopped, his gaze swept over the bottles of booze before landing on deran, smirk growing slightly at the familiar gruffness of the other man’s voice. ‘last i checked, that sign doesn’t apply to me . . .’ a rare feat, reed’s smirk turned into a smile, slightly yellowed teeth flashing toward deran with a knowing sparkle in his eyes. ‘that changed since we last saw each other, or are you gonna shut up and pour me some bourbon?’ @traumedical.

[terr1fy]

she could have killed him.    maybe should have,  by this point.  he couldn’t do the same to her  -  he swore to their savior that he would let no harm come to grace or her sister  -  but grace could have killed him three times over by now.  but she didn’t.  a strange sort of . . .  trust didn’t seem like the right word,  but something akin to that had built between them.  an understanding that neither of them should be fucked with,  maybe.  or one that proved they were more powerful together.  either way,  titus sat in a suede chair opposite hers,  squinting slightly at the way grace was handling the cigar he had given her.    ‘for your name being grace,  you have a fuck all amount of it,’    titus took the cigar back,  repositioning it correctly between grace’s fingers and then snapping open a golden lighter.    ‘don’t suck on it like a cigarette.  enjoy the taste,’ @traumedical.

[terr1fy]

GRAVEROBBER:  I’M NOT ABOUT TO FORGET ALL THE SHIT YOU PUT ME THROUGH.

the harsh,  flickering neon of the large geneco sign reflected off the high gloss pvc of her corset.    tiffany took a slow,  deliberate drag of her cigarette,  letting the smoke curl around them before flicking ash directly onto the toe of graverobber’s boot.    ‘even if y’wanted to,  y’couldn’t,  baby.  i’m unforgettable,’    tiffany stepped into his space,  cheap perfume mixing with the thick smoke that still billowed from her cigarette.  she reached out,  her black manicured fingers trailing a mockingly gentle path along his jawline,  just firm enough to leave pale tracks in their wake.    ‘you act like i’m th’least favorite of the pests in your street - rat squad,  but let’s be real  :  you’d be bored t’tears with some basic bitch who didn’t know how to use a needle or a knife,’    tiffany grabbed graves’ chin and licked the tip of his nose.    ‘now stop being a pussy and let’s go,’ @traumedical.

[terr1fy]

EMILY LAUGHTON: UNDRESS. SENDER HELPS RECIEVER REMOVE AND ARTICLE OF CLOTHING.

it was selfish ; he understood that sentiment. still, joel couldn't help but feel relieved that he wasn't dealing with this alone. after losing rose, after gaining the curse, he had been convinced he was a dead man. unfortunately for emily, it had been passed onto her, now. he had been saved, and now that he could think clearly, he was planning on helping save her, too. 'ah, careful,' joel hissed, allowing emily to pull his arm from his jacket sleeve. he was sure his shoulder was dislocated, if only a little, and he'd have to deal with that as soon as possible. for now, though, he stretched the muscles a bit, rubbing fingers against the blade before glancing back at emily. 'you hurt anywhere?' @traumedical.

[terr1fy]

@traumedical.

[terr1fy]

AMBER SWEET: 03. A HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM AT THREE IN THE MORNING.

usually, tiffany was the one providing the smell of blood or bleach. now that she perched on the edge of a vinyl chair ( which was sticking to the back of her bare fucking thighs, by the way ) and smelled the familiar scent, she scrunched her nose, hands idly shredding a celebrity gossip rag she'd already read twice. sultry eyes glanced at the surgery in progress sign, her heavy eyeliner making her gaze look harsher beneath the dim lights. she was all for a little nip / tuck - god knows a girl's gotta keep her edge - but amber was turning into a fucking pin cushion. at some point, tiffany thought, she was going to be more stitch than woman. still, even at three am, she sat, waiting for amber to be finished with her latest reconstruction. she reached into her purse, pulling out a compact to check her own reflection, tilting her head to ensure her beauty mark was still perfectly positioned. the compact snapped shut again as soon as the doctor came out, bloody gloves and all, to tell tiffany that amber was ready for company. ' 'bout fuckin' time, doc,' tiffany smacked her gum, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder and sauntering past the surgeon, puckering red lips quickly at him before she made her way toward amber's room. @traumedical.

[symphannie]

𝄞 ࿐ ˎˊ˗   𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓.   (   julia   +   @traumedical   ) | | |   ⤷   :   Don't  go.  Please,  don't  go.  (Deran  @  traumedical  4  Julia)

𝐬𝐡𝐞  𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝  𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲  𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦  𝐡𝐢𝐦  out  of  instinct.  it  wasn’t  deran.  if  there  was  anyone  she  trusted  in  that  house  besides  andrew,  it  was  him.  but  smurf’s  voice  still  echoed  in  her  head  like  it  had  been  carved  there.  the  arguments.  the  threats.  the  way  every  apology  somehow  turned  into  another  leash  wrapped  tighter  around  julia’s  throat.  she  couldn’t  do  it  anymore.  couldn’t  keep  crawling  back.  couldn’t  keep  pretending  this  was  normal. 

her  bag  sat  half-packed  on  the  bed,  clothes  shoved  in  without  folding.  julia  stood  beside  it,  arms  wrapped  around  herself,  staring  at  the  floor.  julia  couldn’t  even  look  at  him.  if  she  did,  she  might  hesitate.  and  hesitation  was  how  smurf  always  won.  ❝  you’re  not  even  going  to  realize  i’m  gone.  ❞