#Sometimes getting through to my mom is talking to a brick wall into telling her I want to be a content creator in uploading videos on YT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlitangels · 2 years ago

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Tired (Doesn’t Begin to Cover It)

I was Having Thoughts™ again. Too many, as always 3.0k words

—

Biting his lip, James dodged nimbly between two people and fell into step beside his friend. “Hey Aaron?”

Aaron jolted and whirled.

—Scared the hell outta me— —can’t just sneak up on a guy like that—

“Hey,” Aaron said instead. “What’s up?”

James faltered, not entirely sure what to say. “I-I-I... I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You look tired.”

—tired— —“tired” is generous— —doesn’t even begin to cover it— —absolutely f^&*ing exhausted more like—

“A little tired, sure.” Aaron shrugged. “I’m handling it.”

—have to handle it— —no other choice—

James chewed the inside of his cheek. Not knowing how to help. “Aaron...” He sucked in a sharp breath. “How are you really doing? Since... y’know... your dad...”

Aaron’s face shutdown immediately.

—none of your f^&*ing business— —bastard’s not even worth the effort it takes to care— —Mom’s checked out— —Elliott doesn’t even know how to handle all of this— —so young— —too young— —we both are— —honestly probably better if we got taken away from Mom— —but— —can’t let us get separated— —he can’t be taken away from me— —my baby brother— —my job to protect him now— —weird magic powers or not—

James blinked rapidly while Aaron stubbornly stared straight ahead of them and didn’t look at him. Aaron’s brother? Magic powers?

James forced himself to swallow. “Is there anything I can do to help you and your family?” he asked.

Aaron shook his head hard. “No. We’re fine.” He made a face. “Well. As fine as we can be in the wake of... everything.” He gestured vaguely, as if everything consisted of literally the entire universe’s effects on his life, not just his father’s death.

“How’s your mom handling it?”

“She’s not.” Aaron clenched his jaw. “She’s... shut down. Which is stupid. Dad wasn’t worth the dirt on her shoes.”

A dramatic declaration, in James’ opinion, but probably not an unwarranted one. “So... I imagine she’s not... being a great... caregiver?”

Aaron scoffed bitterly. “No.”

—got fired pretty much immediately after her bereavement leave was up— —barely leaves her room— —too numb to even respond to me most days—

“Do you and Elliott want to come over to my parents’ house for dinner sometime soon?” James offered.

Aaron glared at him with an icy blue stare. “We don’t need charity or pity, James,” he snapped.

“That’s not what this is,” James retorted. “You’re my friend, Aaron. And you’re going through a hard time. If I can be supportive to you, I will. That’s what friends do, you stubborn prick.”

Aaron huffed. “I’ll think about it,” he grumbled. There was a pause. The school bell rang, signaling everyone to start heading for classes. Aaron shifted to block James’ path before he could leave. “I’ll ask Elliott when I get home from work if he’d be fine with that. You two haven’t met and he can get a bit nervous and shy around strangers,” he added quietly.

James nodded. “That sounds good. If there’s anything I can do to make it easier, please tell me, okay?”

“... Sure.”

With that, Aaron dodged around James and disappeared into the crowd to head for class.

James set a hand on the brick wall of the hallway, leaned his weight on it, and sighed.

Aaron hadn’t thought about it directly—not in words anyway—but James had seen the two jobs he was working, trying to keep his family together. He’d seen a flash of memory of a younger teen boy with blond curls and purple eyes shining with tears.

A younger teen boy who was probably Elliott, Aaron’s younger brother.

Who apparently had magic powers.

Like mine? James wondered. Is that what this is? Is the mind-reading... magic?

“Hey!” his best friend called, rushing down the hallway through a rapidly-thinning crowd. “We’re gonna be late. Come on!” They grabbed his hand and started pulling him off for class. “Where did you go? You just disappeared.”

“Sorry. Saw a friend. Went to go talk to him.”

They chuckled. “Gimme a warning next time, will ya? I kept talking for thirty seconds after you disappeared, thinking you were still there.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just... tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

The two went to their homeroom class. James set his head on his desk, covering it with his arms, and tried to focus. On Aaron. His mind. Several classrooms away in his own homeroom class. His thoughts felt heavy in a way they usually didn’t unless someone was thoroughly exhausted.

He seemed to be dwelling on one memory in particular:

—

“A-Aaron?” a small voice asked.

Aaron rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “What is it, El?” He looked over to see Elliott peeking around the doorframe to Aaron’s bedroom, fingers holding onto it.

“I... I... I need to talk to you about something.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Aaron leaned back in his rickety old desk chair. “Okay. Go for it. What’s up?”

“Are-are you busy?”

“Always. But it can wait. Talk to me, Eli.”

“I... I met someone yesterday and... I finally got some answers.”

“About?”

“You... you know how my nightmares about the boating trip stopped a couple years ago?”

“Yeah. Most sleep I’ve gotten in years, not having to wake up and go soothe you.”

“Well... the nightmares stopped because I... I... I found out I can... control dreams. Not just... not just mine. Anybody’s, really. I felt my chest burn one night when I was twelve and ever since I’ve been able to control dreams. I didn’t know how or why for a long time but... but yesterday I ran into someone who radiated the same sort of energy, but kinda different. And they directed me to a... place. And... and I have magic, Aaron.”

Aaron blinked several times, eyes locked on his brother. “M... magic,” he said.

Elliott nodded, curls bouncing.

Aaron sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. “You’re a little old to be playing pretend, Elliott. I know Dad’s death has been hard on all of us and I don’t want to belittle your coping mechanisms but magic—”

“I’m not playing pretend, Aaron!” Elliott snapped. “God—why do you never believe anything I tell you? I never lie to you and you never believe me!”

Aaron rubbed his eyes. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you, Eli.”

“Look. Just—tonight—tonight I can prove it to you. I promise.”

“Assuming I even get to sleep tonight,” Aaron muttered under his breath, casting a glance at the three textbooks piled on his desk.

Elliott didn’t appear to hear him.

Aaron hated fighting with his brother. Usually tried to avoid it. But his patience was worn thin in his fatigue.

“Yeah. Sure. We’ll see about that,” he said a little louder so Elliott actually would hear him.

Elliott bit his lower lip and picked at his fingernails before retreating away from Aaron’s doorway.

—

The memory Aaron was dwelling on jumped, and James watched it smash cut like a movie.

—

“What the hell is this?!” Aaron demanded.

Elliott gestured around. “This is a dream. I’m controlling it. I told you I could. The lady at the place I went to told me I’m what’s called a Dreamwalker. See? Watch this.” Elliott raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The forest environment around them shifted to a beach. Elliott smiled. “I told you, I’m telling the truth. I’m using my magic to keep you lucid and aware that you’re dreaming so you’ll be able to remember this, and I’m shaping everything. I’ve been doing it for years. I just... I finally know why I can do it. And I’m not alone. The lady at the Department said there’s all kinds. Telepaths, Elementals, Psychokinetics, Warders—there are even vampires and shapeshifters. Usually just called shifters, apparently.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you’re my brother. And they said it’s important for the families of humanborns to know about their powers.”

“What’s a humanborn?”

“Someone like me. Someone with magic from a non-magic family. Most people with magic have at least one parent with magic. The lady at the Department and I both think one of my biological parents had magic. But, you know, our family doesn’t have any.”

“Slow down. What Department?”

“The Department of Uniform Magical Practices. It’s a whole government for magical people.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Aaron groaned, rubbing his temples. “Get out of my head, Elliott.”

The excitement on Elliott’s face evaporated. “Aaron...”

Aaron balled his fists. “I said get out of my head!”

Elliott blinked a tear out of his eye. “O-okay.” He wiped his face and took a step back.

In a shimmer of purple light on his next step back, he vanished.

—

Aaron’s thoughts jumped; and from a few corridors away, James had to pull out of his head as his homeroom teacher got started with homeroom for the day.

—

Sighing, Aaron slid into the house and glanced around. The dishes that had been in the sink were gone. There were lines in the carpet showing it had been neatly vacuumed. The sharp scent of citrus cleaning supplies lingered in the air.

He slid his backpack off his shoulders and held the top loop in one hand, looking around in confusion.

“Mom?” he asked softly.

No response.

He took off his shoes before taking his backpack to his room and setting it beside his rickety old desk. He always thought about using the sturdier desk in their dad’s old study—but he could barely ever bring himself to even go in there when he dusted or vacuumed.

When his bag was down, he tested the door to his parents’ bedroom. Unlocked, as usual.

He eased it open and peeked in.

Mom was asleep. Looking like she’d barely moved since that morning when Aaron left for school. Aaron rolled his eyes and ducked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

He went to his brother’s room and knocked softly.

No response.

“El. I’m sorry for being terse last night,” Aaron said. A bit reluctantly. Quiet enough to not wake their mom, but loud enough for Elliott to hear him.

Silence.

“Elliott?” Panic hit Aaron’s bloodstream.

He grabbed the knob. Unlocked. It was rare for Elliott to lock it anyway, but Aaron figured he’d be angry with him.

Aaron shoved the door open.

Elliott’s dormer window was open.

Tension and terror eased out of Aaron’s shoulders. He crossed Elliott’s room and stuck his head out the window, looking around it.

Sitting on the roof, staring up at the sparse stars in the sky, was his little brother.

Aaron took a deep breath and climbed out onto the roof, carefully making his way over to sit next to his brother. Elliott didn’t even acknowledge he was there. Just kept staring heavenward.

“Hey,” Aaron said.

Elliott didn’t say anything. Didn’t even nod.

“Finish all your homework?”

No reply.

“I take it you did the dishes and vacuumed?” Aaron tried again.

No response.

Aaron sighed. “Did you eat? Make some dinner?”

Nothing.

Aaron clenched his jaw. “Thank you for doing the dishes and vacuuming. It also smelled like you wiped down the counters.” He peeked at his brother. Elliott was barely moving. His curls flicked against his forehead in the night breeze. “Thank you.”

Violet eyes remained fixed on the stars.

Aaron tried to dissipate the frustration building inside, but he felt like a pressure valve that hadn’t been released in too long. “Look. I’m sorry for being terse last night okay?” he snapped, still trying to keep his voice down. “That’s a major bomb to drop on someone, no matter the circumstances. You can’t blame me too much for freaking out.”

Elliott still didn’t move. Aaron nudged at him to make sure he was even there and his exhaustion wasn’t making him hallucinate his brother. But no. Solid. A soft purple T-shirt against the touch of Aaron’s elbow.

“Fine. Be pissed at me. Whatever,” Aaron spat. He dug into the pocket of his jacket. “They gave us these at work today. I hate beanies so I thought I’d give it to you. I already took a seam ripper to the patch that had the company logo on it on my break. So all that’s left is the brand embroidered logo on the back.” He set the dark grey beanie on the roof between him and his brother. “Keep it. Throw it out. I don’t care. Just thought you’d get more use out of it than I would.”

He scooted down the roof toward Elliott’s dormer window.

“I’m gonna do some homework before showering and going to bed. You should too.”

No movement. No response. Not so much as a peek.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He moved to climb back inside.

“You’re not Dad, you know,” Elliott said softly.

Aaron scoffed. “Yeah. No duh, Sherlock,” he retorted. “But guess what? Dad’s dead. He drank himself into a coffin. And Mom can’t even pull herself together enough to take care of us. So someone has to. And I’m the oldest—so it falls on me. No. I’m not Dad. And I never want to be Dad. But no one else is going to look after you—so by God I’m going to do it.”

“I can take care of myself.” Elliott’s voice was just as quiet as before.

“Good for you,” Aaron said sarcastically. “But you’re not keeping this roof over our heads. I am. So while that falls on me, I’m going to keep asking if you ate dinner and did your homework. Because no one else is going to care enough to check. You’re my little brother and I love you. Stupid magic or not. So it’s my job to look after you, now.” He put one foot into his brother’s room through the open window. “Now get your ass inside before you catch a cold. I don’t want to hear you whining about allergies on the way to school tomorrow either.”

He ducked inside and stomped out of his brother’s room and into his own.

His desk chair creaked as he sat in it. He planted his elbows on the desk and rubbed his temples. His eyes were stinging from being so tired and dry.

After a few minutes, he heard scraping on the roof of his brother sliding down it toward his window.

He took a deep breath and sighed before reaching into his bag for his assignment and textbook.

Before remembering his conversation with James that morning and James’ offer.

He swore under his breath. “I’ll ask him on the drive to school tomorrow,” he muttered. “Elliott doesn’t want to talk to me tonight.” He shook his head and fished around in his cup of pens for one that had a decent amount of ink left.

—

“El! Come on! I’m leaving! If your ass isn’t in this car in two minutes you’re walking!” Aaron called as he yanked his shoe on. His brother hadn’t invaded his dreams last night because Aaron hadn’t had time to sleep. By the time his homework was done, his alarm was twenty minutes away from ringing and he’d needed a shower.

Exhaustion clung to his every movement and the sag in his shoulders. But even though he slung his backpack on slower than usual, he was going to keep going. Another long day ahead of him.

He heard the familiar click of Converse on the linoleum floor. Heard Elliott clear his throat.

“Did you have breakfast?” Aaron asked as he pulled his other shoe on.

“Yeah. Before you came out to the kitchen,” Elliott said quietly. “How... how do I look?”

Aaron looked up.

He saw Elliott’s purple Converse first. His usual shoes. The grey skinny jeans were pretty normal too. One of Elliott’s multiple purple T-shirts—this one with the NASA logo in a small patch on the upper left chest—

And the grey beanie Aaron had handed him last night nestled over his hair.

Aaron snorted. “That’s not how kids your age wear beanies,” he said. He approached his brother and adjusted it, pulling it farther back on Elliott’s head to let some of his curls flop out onto his forehead so the beanie also flopped at the back. “There you go.”

“Better?” Elliott fidgeted.

“Yeah.” Aaron tried for a smile, but he was too tired for it to reach his eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Elliott smiled—a tiny little thing that barely turned up the corners of his mouth—and followed Aaron out to the car.

“Oh. By the way. My friend James invited us over to his place for dinner sometime soon. Wanna go?”

“When?”

“He just said ‘soon.’ Probably so we could figure out a good time after you said whether you wanted to go or not. I know you’re not always particularly comfortable around strangers and you’ve never met James before.”

“Thanks. And, uh... sure. Sometime soon.” Elliott nodded as he climbed into the car.

“Cool. I’ll tell him.”

The drive to school was quiet. When they pulled into the school’s parking lot and found a place, Elliott didn’t get out of the car immediately. Not even moving. Aaron paused with his hand on the door handle.

“El?” he asked.

Elliott was staring at the scuffed toes of his Converse. “Thank you, Aaron. For everything.”

Before Aaron could say anything, Elliott yanked open the door and rushed out of the car, half-jogging for the school while Aaron sat there, halfway out of the car himself, staring after his brother in confusion.

—Where did that come from?—

—

James glanced at his best friend. “I’ll see you in homeroom. I’m gonna go talk to my friend for a minute.”

They smiled. That smile he loved so deeply. “Okay! See you in homeroom.”

James grinned back and ducked between two people to make his way through the crowds to find Aaron.

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Audio #Redacted Aaron #Redacted Elliott #Redacted James

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steven1123x · 6 months ago

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Behind The Scenes - Chapter 9: A Night Out

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Steven, Greg, Rose, Luisa, Jasmine and his friends were all walking in Manhattan, it was their last night there. They were leaving for Deleware tomorrow morning.

They were all meeting Ameythest at Times Square so they could hang out together on their final day here. Steven, Lance Lucas, and Kyle were walking behind Greg, Rose, and their mothers It was eight in the evening and the buildings were lit up, making it look beautiful.

“It looks beautiful, doesn’t it Greg?” Greg looked at her lovingly and kissed her on the cheek.

“It does, but not as beautiful as my stunning warrior for an amazing wife.”

“So, this friend of yours, you’d known her for a long time?” Jasmine asked.

“Oh yeah, Ameythest and I had known each other way before I met Greg, her dad was a Quartz solider like her, and her mom works at a bakery. Her dad is actually in the U.S. Army now.

“Ohm cool!” Luisa said.

“Hey, mom?” Steven asked.

“Yeah?”

“Where is this place?”

“Oh, we’re almost there, we gotta cross the street and were here. this is the most famous Italian restaurant in all of New York City.”

Steven nodded. they crossed the street and they went inside the building. Rose went to get their reservation.

“Hi, we have a reservation, under the name. Amethyst.” Rose said. The woman smiled and looked it up.

“Oh, I see it, for eight thirty right?”

Rose nods her head. then they all sit in the seating area. Steven was talking with Lance, Lucas, and Kyle until Ameythest came.

Ameythest showed up a few minutes later, She wore a purple blouse and white jeans. Her hair was tied up in a bun with some strands sticking out.

“Hey, Ames!” Rose said, giving her friend a fist bump.

“Hey guys!”

Steven waved at her. Lance, Lucas, and Mikey went back to talking.

“Did you guys catch that new episode of Gorge Of The Jungle?” Steven asked. Talking about an episode they had seen last night in their hotel room.

“Yeah!”

They were called over and they were seated at a table.

Rose was looking over the menu.

“What are you going to eat, Steven?” She asked her son. Steven looks over the menu. He read the options and figured out what he wanted. “Can I get pepperoni pizza?” Rose smiled and put a hand on his head.

“Sure you can.” Steven smiled and just hugged her, Rose hugged him back.

“So, how was Pearl with you guys?” Amethyst asked. Rose sighed as she twirled her fork and put some spaghetti in her mouth.

“She’s still trying to get Steven to move in with her to Los Angeles” Greg nodded.

“Well, she shouldn’t do that! and, you were our leader, not her. She doesn’t make the decisions. She doesn’t have a child. Dude.” Amethyst said, eating her food.

“Ugh, I know! I keep telling her but it’s no use, it’s like talking to a brick wall sometimes!” Greg said, Rose sighed in agreement.

Later, they were walking around Times Square with Ameythest. “Hey, Steven. I saw that video you did a month ago,” she said, mentioning the song he did about if he was in the Crystal Gems. Steven smiles at that comment, he loved Ameythest as a little sister.

“Oh yeah! That video I’d made and my mom uploaded. It’s just a little thing that they wanted to keep and preserve.

Ameythest nods as they keep walking.

Steven, Rose, Greg, Steven's friends, and their mothers went back to the hotel to go to bed for the drive and flight back to Delaware.

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The next day, The valet brought Greg’s van around. Greg and Rose put their suitcases in the back, Steven crawled in the back and they all headed back to Delaware. Greg started driving the three-hour trip back home.

Three hours passed and they made it to Delaware, they drove to Dewey Beach, rock music blasting through the speakers as they did. Rose was now driving, Greg looked out the passenger side window at tourists and locals walking. Greg rolled down the window, letting the smell of the salty air and the sand hit their noses.

“It’s good to be back in Delaware, Let’s see if Pearl didn’t do anything to the house while we were gone,” Greg said.

“She left yesterday,” Rose said, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

“What, when?”

“Last night. She texted me before we were going to bed.” she saw the beach come up, Rose parked their van and all three of them stepped out. Steven stretched and they all went up the stairs, Rose got the house key and unlocked the door.

Rose and Greg put their bag in their room and started unpacking all their stuff. Steven walked to the wrap-around pouch walked on the railing and looked at all the people in the water and playing in the sand. He was too short now to lean on it, but he could look through the wooden bars.

A few minutes pass and Greg walks outside and sits on the wooden patio floor with his son, cross-legged. Steven saw Greg, he walked up to his father and sat in his lap.

“What’s up, bud?” he asked.

“I thought you and mom were unpacking?”

“We finished.”

“That fast?” he asked.

Greg nods. “Well, it was two days, little dude.” Greg smiles at him, Steven hugs his father.

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“YOU LIED TO ME!” Steven said. Rose jolted back a little bit, they were now home in Beverly Hills, Steven, and the other actors were done filming for “A Single Pale Rose” And Steven did not take it well after shooting for the episode.

It got so bad when they finished shooting. Steven returned home to Beverley Hills and locked himself in the music room. Greg was trying to calm him down but it wasn’t working.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!” Steven screamed back, he was red in the face, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. His dad was trying to calm him down but nothing was working.

“Steven—“

“SAVE IT, PINK!” Greg was silent the whole time. Steven didn’t know what to do at the moment. He couldn’t even look at the person who was his mother. Now, she was nothing to him. Steven clenched his shirt to where his gem was located, he glared at his mother ran upstairs, and slammed his bedroom door.

“Steven wait—“ Greg said, sighing. He hugs his wife while tears form in her eyes.

“He’ll come around eventually,” Greg told her. Rose nodded and exhaled.

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Rose jolted awake, her breathing was shaky and her hands shook. She doesn’t want to tell Steven that she is a different person and she has done horrible stuff to her friends and comrades in the past, but now, that was over and it was in the past. Greg rolled over and sat up.

“Rose?”

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A\N: Hi guys, I hope you guys like this chapter. I’m doing some parallels to Steven Universe and this AU I hope you guys enjoy this. (I did a cliffhanger so you’ll have to stay tuned on what happens next!) anyway… Bye, guys!

#comment #like #repost #steven universe #rose quartz #steven quartz universe #greg universe #steven universe actors au #Comment on ever single chapter #gregrose

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butch-bakugo · 2 years ago

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Still dont get how it took my mom 19 years to figure out i had autism( or ocd)when as a child, i enjoyed;

Going through the pantry and throwing away expired food like it was a game.

Going through my moms coupon scrapbook and throwing out the expired ones like it was a game

I lined up my hot wheels cars in a row or would sorted them by type/color/texture/size/etc instead of just run them along the hard wood floors cause car go vroom

Refused food of certain textures/didnt like fruit

Actively did not speak unless it was to myself or they needed me to

Talked to myself constantly

Perfered being alone and only having contact when i wanted it

Only seeking out physcial comfort when im sick

Didnt like making eye contact and would actively avoid it

Did not pick up on social cues

Didnt like being hugged or kissed or touched in general

Would actively stim

Couldnt explain why my mom picking up a toy for me would frustrate me

Always have to do things in a specific order or else its wrong

Adored certain tedious tasks but refused to sit and do math

Liked peeling potatos/carrots and other cleaning activities but had a messy room

All my old preschool and kindergarden grades on "socializing with other kids" were mere points above being concerning cause i was always by myself

Picked my eyebrows till they didnt exist and still have a slight bald patch on my head

Loved listening to songs over and over and over even when it would annoy the average person

Liked my jeans with holes in the kness because i could pick at the strings

Perfered to have earbuds in around crowds

Disassociated all the time

Would sing jingles all the time aka vocal stimming

Desperately wanted to tell her everything about the game or show i was into aka hyperfixating and infodumping

Would be into meteorology then not then into marine biology then not

How i could spend hours on minecraft building things and never get bored

Why i would draw obsessively

Why i still sleep with a comfort blanket/stuffed animal well into adulthood and still do

How i had limited energy/limited focus(then got laughed at by my stepdad cause "limited focus isnt a thing" just for her to chew him out about my adhd)

Liked asmr and still do

Why i talk about human psychology as if i wasnt human( i.e me saying "i dont get why humans do this")

My sudden and intense interest in true crime and criminal(and general) psychology

Had quiet/private meltdowns instead of the sterotypical loud and violent ones because of my dad's abuse and intimidation

Lacked empathy and could only manage some base level sympathy

Couldnt read other peoples emotions and mom quite litterally said she dosent know how to speak to me sometimes cause my face looks like a "brick wall when im being happy and when im sad".

Didnt get that saying "the table is dirty" is supposed to mean "could you please clean the table" instead lf just an observation

Me saying sorry all the time wasnt just a trauma responce

Constantly stateing my feelings and clarifying what im trying to get across cause im scared someone might take it a bad way

Not getting sarcasm or jokes unless they are almost comedically obvious

Perfered to deal with negative emotions alone/sent people away when i was grieving/mourning/pissed off

Wanted to do a soft bite as a form of affection(would do it as a kid and still do it to my gf)

Perfered handsewing over the sewing machine

Did "weird" responces to things( hissed at doors and found it funny, stimmed when i got super excited, crane-legged when i got bored, bit my lip when i got bored)

Picked at my scalp

Would only let myself step in squares once or twice and never on the crack or more than the allotted number

Would watch ceiling fans

Watched my feet as i walked with some knowledge of what was infront of me

Was more fascinated by the dead body at funerals of people i didnt really know than comforting the mourners

Make jokes to avoid silence

Always asked if people were angry at me and told people to just tell me how they feel instead of trying to make me figure it out

Never got the whole "i cant ask them out they have to ask me out" thing

Didnt get why certain clothes couldnt be worn to certain places( i.e casual house clothes to church, stained clothing to the store)

The whole "dont invite yourself to spend the night at other people's houses". Bruh i would litterally ask if i could because i wanted to spend more time together then tell them to lie to my mom and say they asked me.

Could handle crawling bugs but not flying ones

Didnt get why i couldn't bring a real knife as a prop for trick or treating. I had no bad intentions but i didnt get why that would scare other people or get legal trouble

Handle stressful situations either with full logic with sympathy or full emotion with low stakes,very little inbetween.

Constantly have to tell people that im not angry and i am interested because i have annoyed and disinterested resting bitch face

Would use my own stories to relate to others instead of just agreeing or sympathizing then never speaking to them again because they said i was making it all about me

Being very open and very honest and not realize when something isnt appropriate to say

Not understanding the difference between someone venting and someone asking for advice

Get irritated at people who stayed in shitty situations without fixing them then vent at me. Go fix ur shit.

Not remembering my friend of 10 years' birthday but could tell you their top 5 games and anime

Not understanding why my classmates started getting bigoted when we learned in elementary school to treat others the way you'd want to be treated

Not getting that correcting someone could hurt their feelings

Not giving a shit about someone's pride. When ur wrong ur wrong and im going to tell you and prove to you that ur wrong. Nothing wrong with being wrong.

Being naive about drugs and alcohol and not being able to tell who is on what when they are clearly on something.

Not being book or street smart, just art smart.

Didnt get why certain objects were girls or boys to the point that i had a genderfluid favorite stuffed animal at like 3yrs old.(litterally one day its a boy and the next a girl)

Didnt see the harm in love triangles/polyamory and straight up said "why dont edward and jacob both just date her? Why dose she have to choose?"

Willing to cut people off at the drop of a hat. Didnt care about pre-existing relationships

Have a high internal moral code i refuse to break

Like the funny part of it all is in 2020, i mentioned to my mom that i might have autism because alot of what was considered signs and behavior of autisitc people fit me. She was all opposed and confused and didnt like my assumptions without a doctor present. Flash forward like 2 months and i asked my therapist if he thought i might be autistic and he said "no doubt. Im surprised you didnt come to me with a diagnosis. I have many autistic patients and you'd fit in pretty well". Now 2 years later and i mention it and my mom's all casual like "oh absolutely your autistic. Your sister isnt,its just adhd but you got somethin else going on." Like thanks mom, could of used the support earilier when you were making me feel like i was too sensitive or crazy 😭😭😭

#levi speaks #side note why did both of them passive aggressively insult me when implying i had autism #autism #autistic women #autistic men #autistic pride #actually autistic #being autistic #autistic adult #autistic things #signs of autisim #obviously this isnt exhaustive and it includes signs of ptsd ocd and adhd which are all things i have but they fuel my autism #its the reality that trauma and trauma respinces can be used to mask autism #im highly attuned to peoples emotions as a way to aboid abuse but the reality is that im still abd at picking up emotions #which is confusing snd distressing

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cowboycakes · 4 years ago

Text

Loyalty

Chapter One: Memories

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

Synopsis: You are a Marleyan warrior who holds the Jaw Titan, tasked with infiltrating Paradis and destroying it. But what happens when love causes you to betray your mission?

Themes: NSFW, 18+, action, betrayal, multi-chapter series.

Warnings: Female bodied reader, explicit sex (penetration/riding, gentle and fluffy, Levi is a virgin), violence/severe injury and blood/battle scenes, threats, mentions of death. Profanity. Spoilers seasons 1-4.

Word count: 2.7k (recently edited to make it flow a little better!)

Note: This story contains spoilers for all seasons of aot (not the manga). It is canon divergent (reader has the jaw titan rather than Porco and reader is on the mission with Reiner and Bertholdt.) Some scenes differ/are more rushed than the scenes they line up with in the actual show. This first chapter is set in season 3.

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The most important lesson you'd learned on this journey was that you couldn’t help who you fell in love with. Love would strike you like a viper by surprise, sinking its fangs deep inside of you and injecting you with lethal poison. Your poor soul was so torn.

The viper in question manifested itself as someone quite inconvenient. A raven haired man - the strongest, most cunning, most selfless man you’d ever observed. And all the while, he was still an island devil.

You were supposed to strike back at the viper, sinking your much larger set of jaws into his heart. Your mission - and specifically your mission - was to end him and his kind. The remaining Ackermans were dangerous. They were a threat to your and your comrades’ titan powers. The goal was to get close to him, to find his weaknesses and strengths. To know his ins and outs like the back of your hand. And then you’d have the advantage. Then you would kill him.

That plan had obviously backfired.

You stood on top of the wall now, alongside Reiner and Bertholdt after they’d just exposed the entire mission to Eren and the others. You could feel the static in the air from a few yards away. They were about to transform.

That wasn’t the problem, though. The problem was that the duo was looking right at you, waiting for you to slash your hand and join in. To rush to their side and eat Eren while you had the chance. Then you could all go home and be celebrated as heroes.

Instead, you were staring back at them - a big, sweaty, teary-eyed, nervous mess.

It was time to betray your homeland.

“I’m sorry Reiner, Bertholdt…” you sob, pulling your hand to your mouth, “but my loyalties lie elsewhere, now.” You rip your teeth through your hand.

Three bolts of lightning shake the wall simultaneously. You emerge in your strongest form - the jaw titan. Your titan had a hardened face like a skeleton with an elongated jaw that stuck out like a wolf. Sharp ridges lined your mouth like fangs, and bright red orbs glowed through your eye sockets. A mane with a color that mimicked your hair grew down from your neck.

You were terrifying. Which is why you needed to get the hell away from these scouts before they decided you needed to die.

You had no interest in defeating Reiner and Bertholdt, that was Eren’s problem now. You were more concerned about the captain on the other side of the wall. He could certainly handle himself, but Zeke had quite the throwing arm. Things could go south very quickly.

You launch yourself down the wall, using your giant talons to slow your fall. You scan the field as you descend, trying to find any sign of Levi.

A voice booms your name to the left of you as you reach the ground.

It’s Pieck in her titan form.

Pieck was like a sister to you. It’s been so long since you’d seen her. You feel a tinge of regret now. Pieck was never going to see you the same again.

You narrow your red eyes at her and charge with full force. Your jaws snap at her heels as she whips around and runs full speed across the field. You finally see who she was running to - Levi and Zeke. Zeke was cut out of his titan form and being held by the hair in Levi's hand.

You pick up your pace, grazing Pieck's legs with your sharp teeth. She stumbles when the two of you go over an indent in the ground, only a few yards from your destination. Her mishap allows you to sink your teeth into her legs. She turns around to bite your neck in response, crushing your weakest spot. You jolt your head, flinging her away from you.

She gets up fast after hitting the ground, continuing at full speed toward Zeke and Levi. You are quick to go after her again, but slow down once you see Levi drop Zeke and bolt out of Pieck's way.

Did he really just give up Zeke that easily?

Suddenly, you feel someone cutting through your titan's nape.

Your vision goes dark.

Out of the darkness, you’re thrown into an old memory. Ah yes, you remember now. All of it is so vivid, right in front of you again.

You’d sneak away to the Captain's office at night frequently. You’d tell yourself these visits were for the mission, to aid you in knowing your victim a little better. His weaknesses could certainly reveal themselves in the comfort of his study. But they certainly weren't for your mission anymore. You’d started to simply crave his company.

You’re walking down the dim halls when you hear two sets of footsteps approaching, quite rapidly. You’re met with two giant bodies slamming into you from behind, grabbing your arms to keep you from running.

“You know, Y/N, I’m getting worried about these visits of yours,” Reiner says, tightening his grip on you. You yelp. “There’s only so much you could be talking about in there with him. There’s only so much shit you could be making up about yourself. He’s going to catch on.”

“He isn’t!” you struggle, “And I’m more clever than these sluggish devil bastards! I’m getting all the information I need!”

“Guys, keep it down!” Bertholdt whispers, frantically looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

Reiner let’s go of you as you topple to the ground in front of him, your hands and knees landing on the cold brick floors below.

“Kill him faster,” Reiner whispers. The two of them make their ways back to their rooms in silence.

You finally stand up when you can’t hear their footsteps anymore, dusting your knees off and collecting your nerves.

You were the oldest titan shifter on the mission from Marley, quite a bit older than Reiner and Bertholdt. You were supposed to be bossing these little shits, not the other way around. But it seemed they were always calling the shots. You deserved to carry out your particular mission however you pleased.

Levi's door is cracked open a bit further down the hall, allowing some faint light to spill into the hall. And inside, there he was as usual, sitting at his desk with a tea and reading some boring literature that you could never understand.

“Long day?” he questions without looking up from his book.

“Yeah,” you sigh, plopping your body down onto a leather sofa near his desk. You lean back into it, reaching your arms up to stretch out. “Thanks for always letting me join you in here. It helps me de-stress.”

You had made a routine of coming in here after a fateful night in the dining hall, after you and Levi realized you could click really well in conversation. You two had shared your entire life stories with each other by now - yours obviously contorted to fit a reality that didn't consist of you being raised in Liberio. You'd grown very close to him, way closer than you had with anyone else in the Scouts. Even though he'd never met the real you, you could relate to him - his struggles and his past especially. His cynical personality had a strange and almost addicting way of brightening your day, and you'd always make sure to tease him for it. Not to mention how handsome he was. He'd catch you stealing glances at him sometimes, but you had a feeling he secretly liked the attention.

If you didn't know better, you'd think you were falling for him.

Your favorite stories of Levi's were of the Underground. It was such a peculiar concept to you, even though it faintly reminded you of life in Liberio. You realized that the people living in the Underground were lucky, in a way. They were oblivious to the world above, secluded from wars and titans. If only every other circumstance of theirs wasn't so unfortunate.

You smile at him as he finally looks up from his book.

“Your tea’s over there,” he says as his eyes dart to the coffee table.

You quickly grab the tea and move it to your mouth.

It was way too hot.

You feel titan steam shoot up from your lips. It had really burned you that badly. You slap a hand over your mouth before the steam could escape, the sound echoing off Levi’s office walls.

“What’s the matter? Tea’s gone cold?” Levi questions, his voice dark. His eyes had been on you the whole time.

“Hmmph?” you say through your hand.

Levi gets up and advances across the room, stopping just in front of you. You’re still frozen on the couch.

“I said, what’s the matter?” His hand meets the one still clamped over your steaming lips.

“Is there something you need to hide under there?” Levi’s finger slips under one of yours, forcing it away from your face. Then another.

Oh shit.

This was a setup. He was actually on to you.

Shit! Regenerate! Faster!

Another finger is forced away from your face. You close your eyes tight, focusing all of your energy to your lips.

This may be it. Right here. Reiner and Bertholdt were going to kill you.

The final two fingers are pried away at once. You open your eyes to look up at him innocently, no steam in sight.

“Uh…” you stutter.

He sighs.

“Sorry. Just trying to keep tabs on who my enemies might be.”

“So you… burned my mouth? Dickhead,” you laugh. You needed to come off as clueless as you could.

Levi’s eyes delicately scan your dewey face. Your lips were still throbbing and swollen. You always wondered if that’s what had compelled him.

He leans down, kissing you softly. Your eyes were wide and your face was motionless for a moment. Then you returned it, cupping a hand sweetly around his jaw.

In a flash, you’re transported to another memory.

You're sitting down on a wooden bench on the outskirts of the combat training arena. You remember being so tired on this day.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, letting the sun soak into your sweat-covered skin. Eventually, a shadow blocks the light shining on you.

You open your eyes to see Levi.

“Want to spar?” he taunted.

“Hell no,” you pant, still limp on the bench.

“You sure? Might be fun to have your ass kicked three times in one day.”

You chuckle at him.

Levi sits down next to you, leaning forward to support his elbows on his knees. The two of you sit there quietly, your ears filled with the sound of summer insects and a cool breeze through the trees.

Your eyes eventually wander to Levi again. He looks upset all of the sudden.

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” he states.

You’re shocked he’s actually bringing it up. After the kiss broke, he just went to sit down at his desk. He acted like none of it had ever happened.

“No, don’t be. I kind of liked it,” you confess, leaning forward to be at his level.

“This can’t continue.”

You feel a tight sensation in your chest. You’re hurt.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands and thinking back to your real duties for once. You were only making things more complicated for yourself.

Of course, it did continue. The two of you avoided each other for a couple of lonely weeks until you nearly ended up in a titan’s mouth on a mission. It had you gripped tightly in its hand, completely helpless to it in your human form. You were about to transform when Levi swooped in and sliced its nape.

He helped you to your feet once the titan hit the ground and scolded you for your carelessness. You just stared back at him once he was quiet again. And he stared back at you. For a bit too long.

That night, you ended up in his office again and performed a teary-eyed confession about your feelings for him. It was in those moments that you discovered you didn’t care about the mission anymore.

You’re thrown into another memory.

This one was so intimate. So special. You never wanted to forget it.

“I’ve never,” Levi pants underneath you, “done something like this before.”

You’re straddling his thighs, tracing circles into his abs with your fingers.

“That’s ok, I’ll guide you,” you whisper.

Candlelight glows off of both of your naked bodies in Levi’s dimly lit bedroom. A surprise make out session led to Levi being curious, and the both of you taking all your clothes off in a rush and throwing each other onto the bed in desperation.

You move your hand from his stomach to his erection. Levi lets in a nervous breath once you make contact.

“Hey, you’re gonna do great,” you say sweetly, “you still wanna do this, right?”

“Yes, I do. Just nervous I’m not gonna… do it right.”

It was ironic to see humanity’s strongest so nervous about what was between your legs.

You shush him quietly as you move your lips down to his tip, slowly taking his length into your mouth. You drag your lips up and down as he lets out tiny grunts and bucks his hips up slightly to meet you.

Once he’s warmed up to your touch, you scoot up over his legs until you’re almost straddling his length.

You look up at him to see his eyes wandering over your bare body, lingering in your more intimate spots.

“You’re really beautiful. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that,” Levi murmurs as he moves a hand up to glide over the side of your waist.

“You too,” you smile at him. “Are you ready?”

He nods.

You lift yourself up gently before easing him into you. The perfect sensation of him pressuring your walls made your breath hitch. You feel him let out a huff of air once he's fully inside.

You start to rock your hips up and down rhythmically as you lean forward to place your hands on his collarbones. He gently thrusts back to meet your hips. His mouth was parted, his face was flushed and sweaty. He grips the sheets in his hands as you continue riding him.

Everything felt so warm and wet. So gentle and passionate.

Both of you let out little whines as you speed up.

"How can I," he moans, "make you... finish."

You grab his hand from the sheets and move his finger to your clit, pleasuring yourself with it for a moment.

"Just like that," you whisper. "You're doing so good."

The two of you continue rutting against each other on the bed - two wet, tingly, whiney, pleasure-filled messes.

All of it felt so right. It was honest.

The memory gradually crumbles in front of you, plunging you back into the darkness.

It wasn’t the intimacy, the long talks, or the sex. It was none of that.

It was the fact that he was a brave and honest thing in your world full of lies. It made you fall for him.

Levi made you rethink your entire role in this war. What right did you have to come and destroy people’s lives? These people were innocent for all you knew. They were the victims. But they had spirit, guts, and passion that no one on Marley did. You related to them. You loved them.

So whose side did you really belong on?

And why were you being shown these memories?

And what was this bloodcurdling noise suddenly ringing in your ears?

It sounded like… your screams.

You finally enter reality again with a gasp, coughing up leftover fluid in your lungs from your titan form. You look down frantically at your body to see all of your limbs severed. Someone had cut you out of your titan form.

The culprit was crouched right in front of you.

Levi.

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Hi guys! I've been sitting on this fic for awhile, unsure if I wanted to post it or not - I sort of wasn't confident abt it. But I hope some of you like it! I will be coming out with another chapter soon. Also, if you left a request, I promise it will be up soon! Lots of love - Shep

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#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman smut #levi smut #aot x reader #aot smut #snk smut #levi imagine #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #levi aot #levi x y/n #snk levi #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #attack on titan

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missinghan · 4 years ago

Text

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

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Soured Nostalgia

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle.

A/N: hey heeeyyy everybody- here’s a fic I’ve been really excited to share with everyone. It’s my eleventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days!!! This was the original request (I made it a little different lol I hope you like it)I had a fun time with it mostly cause I totally think Spencer and Elle had something going on at some point 😉 Plus I got to incorporate older angsty post prison Spencer and mention how he used to be a little baby ☺️ I’m curious to hear y’all’s thoughts about the Reidaway ship, or really anything so feel free to drop an ask to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Joking about being jealous???, Reidaway in the past, Spencer being sad about the people who’ve left him, Sub Spencer, Only a bit of dry sex, Masturbation, Unprotected sex, Use of a belt to restrain, A few taps on the cheek, Reader’s hand is around Spencer’s throat for a second

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.2k

Reminiscing on the past was difficult depending on how the story had ended. Memories that may have been happy could turn too painful because of the ending result. Age turned the memories into unreliable accounts as well, unable to truly remember how things had been back then and how you had truly felt.

Memories were still something to hold onto and cherish even though they got twisted with age and opinion. Nostalgia, a sentimental or wishful affection for the past, was an addictive feeling even if it made you cry. It remained addictive even if most of your past memories had hurt you with no sentiment attached. Everyone always chased the euphoric feelings they had when looking at the ghosts of their past. Sometimes even when looking back you can find something that had once soured had turned sweet again.

Spencer had many memories that he was no longer able to look back upon for a host of reasons. Most often it was because he could no longer bear to look back on a memory of someone who had left him. Whether it was his Dad, Gideon, Hotch, Blake, Elle, and many others, looking back at them just made him often feel like everyone in his entire life had left him.

That wasn’t true of course, he still had his Mom- and you. Even with his Mom there were still many of his memories with her were still stained with guilt, though that had gotten better with time and with your help.

You had begun helping him find the benefit in looking back, trying to make the soured nostalgia a bit sweeter again. It was getting easier as time ticked by for him to open up to you about everything in his past, the good and the bad. At first you had been staring at a wall that he had been building higher and higher throughout the years, it was daunting how tall it was. When you helped take a sledgehammer to it, making it crumble beneath your effort, he pulled away for a while. He felt comfortable by himself behind his own Great Wall until you showed him the benefits of sharing the secrets he held behind it. But, you still stayed, helping him as much as you could until he was willing to open up.

It had been many months since you started your effort to help him break it down. At some point in the last months you had both fallen into a relationship, a romantic one. What had once been a platonic relationship forged from shared interests evolved into a romance emerging from the rubble of his wall.

He had even given you a key to his apartment at one point, which he had never done with anyone except the bureau. Emily was the one that really had it, but that was strictly for work reasons. This was a show of trust which was much more helpful than his wall that had reached the heights of a skyscraper.

A simple key soon turned into you staying at his place more often than at your own. You had casually mentioned one day while watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries that you basically lived here now. It was a true statement, most of the clothes you wore on a daily basis had been given a spot in his dresser and the toothbrush you kept there was not the one you used for travel- that one was at your place. You had begun to put your mark on Spencer’s life in a more permanent way than before.

When he had spontaneously suggested the next day that you should move in with him, you knew that your small comment had stuck in his brain. It was easy to agree to, you had said you basically already lived here, plus living with the love of your life sounded like a dream. You only had a few things that you wanted to bring over and it was mostly decorative stuff that you could’ve let go if Spencer hadn’t insisted that he wanted you to make the space your own.

While turning the space that was once solely Spencer’s into something for you both, you had found a small clear box with a blue lid, filled with pictures. Spencer didn’t have a lot of personal pictures framed, there was one with you and him by the bed, one with the team by his desk, one with him and Morgan on the living room wall, and one with you two and his Mom also hung up in the living room.

When you had shown him the box he could tell you were curious, letting you look through it without a moment of hesitation. In the past Spencer would have been wary sharing his memories with you, but now he’d let you look. If only you could get him to look at the box with you.

You weren’t surprised he didn't want to look with you once you saw the people littered throughout the snapshots. Varying people that had left were in most of them, even some you never met.

Ones with Hotch and Gideon- even one from a long time ago with his father buried at the bottom. As you browsed through them you were glad he was able to hang up that photo of him and Morgan, at least they had parted with some closure. It also helped that he still saw him regularly, he had never fully left like some of the people from his past.

One picture in particular stood out to you, it was another team photo, they seemed more carefree in this one compared to now. There was baby Spencer, before you had known him, in a birthday boy hat smiling with the rest of the team. You guessed it was around his 23rd or 24th birthday, going by the slick back gelled hair he had sported in his earlier years. He seemed so much more different back then, perhaps more carefree compared to now. But, he also seemed much more unsure of himself, maybe a bit self conscious. In the photo you could tell he was nervous, just by the look in his eyes. He still had that same look in his eyes whenever he felt nervous.

Then you looked closer at where his eyes were focused on, there was a clear line of sight from him to Elle. Elle was way less nervous in this captured moment compared to Spencer, though from what you had heard she had always been like that.

Your gaze on the photo was broken when Spencer then came into the living room where you were sitting on the couch.

You decided to test the waters to see if he might want to take a look at the photo with you, “Why do you look so nervous in this photo?”

He stopped the path he had been taking, then stood still for a second before deciding to sit next to you on the couch. Straining his neck he gazed over at the photo you were holding in your hands. It was silent for a while as he looked over it, stopping to look at his old team. Some of the team still remained intact, namely JJ, but she wasn’t the same as she had been all those years ago. You let him take it from your hands, so he could look at it closer. He cleared his throat a little, though his voice still came out slightly raspy when he spoke, though he didn’t answer the question you had asked him,“It’s the only picture I ever had taken with Elle…”

“I know you guys were- close.” You didn’t ask your previous question again, sensing that it was still too much to talk about in specifics. What he was telling you right now was even more than what he told you, only telling you that she was his first, everything. Any supplemental information was from talking discreetly to JJ about it one night because you were somewhat curious.

Tiptoeing around the relationship you knew that they had previously was like walking through a minefield. You tried the best that you could to avoid making him too upset. When you got him to open up, it wasn’t by forcing him to talk all at once. Busting the wall down was done brick by brick, not all at once.

“I’m glad you aren’t jealous of her.” His comment was said with less sadness than before. It was nice to see a glimpse of the weight coming off of his shoulders, even if it was just for a moment.

“What? Do you want me to be jealous of her?” You teased, lightheartedly so he wouldn’t dwell on the sad aspect of their past relationship. He smiled softly which deepened when you playfully stuck your tongue out and crossed your arms.

“No- you’ve got nothing to be jealous about…” Any playfulness in his voice was erased as his sentence trailed off. You didn’t say anything for a moment in case he wanted to continue his thought. And, after a moment of silence he did, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left…”

“I know- I was just joking about being jealous. I know how much she meant to you…” His eyes moved away from you, at first you thought it might be because he was still feeling the pain of losing her all those years ago. But, there was something else in his eyes, it naturally made you curious, “What are you thinking about?”

“If you were jealous- what would you have done?” His mind must have shifted away from thinking about the ending of his memories with Elle, which was a step in the right direction. At least he wasn’t avoiding the topic all together, he was still talking about her in a sense.

You bit your lip, thinking about what direction you could take this in. You weren’t going to lie, your mind had gone straight into the gutter at his suggestion and by the look on Spencer’s face so had his.

“Hmmm…” You pretended to ponder while you moved from where you were sitting on the couch to sit on something better, Spencer’s lap. Straddling him then with ease you looked down at his face tracing his cheeks with your fingers. His pupils were blown wide now, almost completely devouring his iris that had become a small ring. He didn’t say anything yet, waiting for you to continue your thought obediently, “I think I would do things to you that I suspect she never did.”

He gulped hard, hard enough that you could hear it. You continued to trace your fingers along his face, sometimes picking a lock of his hair to twirl, waiting for him to say something else like you knew he wanted to. It only took a few more seconds of your touches and your eyes staring into his own before he asked, “C-Can you show me?”

You stopped your movements, pausing for dramatic effect before crushing his lips onto your own. He squared into your mouth at first, clearly taken off guard by your sudden kiss. Before he had processed what was going on enough to let you, you forced your tongue into his mouth, earning you a delicious moan from him.

When you moved again suddenly, separating your mouth with his for just a moment, he tried to chase your lips. Pushing a finger to his lips you then used that to push him back into the couch, then answering his question, “Gladly.”

You kept your finger on his mouth to seal them shut. He could have opened it easily to respond to you, but he wanted to see what you might do next.

Instead of going back to kissing him you started to pull his belt off of him. It was difficult with one hand, taking much longer than it would be with two. But, you still kept your finger rested in the position most people use to shush someone.

Once the belt had finally been pulled from the belt loops of his slacks you finally removed your finger from his mouth. He still remained quiet, his eyes following your every move intently. You then went to work, pinning his hands above his head, then beginning to restrain them with his belt.

“Did she do this to you?” Goading him while you looped the belt around his hands. You made sure to go as slow as possible while you restrained him just to make it last longer until you gave him what he wanted. You even began to grind down on his cock a little bit, it obviously ached to be free from its confines in his trousers by how strained the slacks were getting.

“No!” His voice was broken and breathy, exactly how you wanted it as you tightened the belt around his hand a little more.

Once you were satisfied that the belt was tight enough you got off of him to remove the shorts you had been wearing, along with the rest of your clothes. Normally when you were naked and Spencer was clothed it would be when you were underneath him as a sort of power play. In this position, where he couldn’t move without fear of consequences while you restraddled him completely naked was almost even more empowering.

To play with the dynamic even more you had him remain confined in his slacks for a while longer, while you touched yourself. You were already quite wet from seeing Spencer in this position and exerting that power by pumping your fingers in you while he could do nothing had you dripping onto his slacks.

Spencer’s jaw had gone slack while watching you moan above him, completely speechless from your actions. It was almost comical and entirely too easy to tease him about, “Close your mouth you might catch flies.” His mouth clenched shut at that. It soon fell slack again at your next words while you brought yourself closer to the edge with your fingers, “What? Did she never do this for you?”

All Spencer could do was sit there and take it, shaking his head side to side, only a little so he could keep his eyes on you. You decided to be merciful, pulling your fingers out of you just before you orgasmed. You wanted to finish at the same time as him anyway.

Finally, you pulled his aching cock out of his slacks. It was throbbing in your hand as you spread your wetness with the fingers that had been inside you. Because you had edged yourself earlier, you couldn’t take teasing him any longer. You lined the head of his cock that was red and weeping up to your entrance, sinking down as fast as you could take him. While you sunk down you rubbed your clit in slow circles, not enough to make you orgasm, but enough to make it easier to take him.

Once you had fully taken him you wasted no time, immediately beginning to build up a fast pace. And, of course you couldn’t help but goad him again,

“Did she make you feel this good?” Your pace you had chosen was rough, bouncing and rolling your hips with reckless abandon while he had to take it without being able to move. He could have thrusted up into you even without the use of his hands, but he had one too many of your punishments in the past to be willing to break the rules so explicitly. Now if he ever broke the rules now it was him subtly bending them. Though, you could tell by the way his eyes rolled back into his head that he had no intention of doing that tonight. It felt too good to be used like this by you.

He still had not answered you though, not on purpose, but you still needed an answer. Tapping his cheek a few times, just hard enough to get his attention. It caused him to whine, but he still didn’t give you an answer. Since that didn’t work you decided to ask again, “I asked you a question. Did she make you feel this good? Did she use you like this?”

To add an extra edge to your words filled with a deadly tone you reached one of your hands forward to grasp around his neck. To make him look at you directly you forcefully tilted his neck, eyes once again trained on yours. He finally found it in himself to answer, “It felt good with her, but it feels best with you! I love you!”

“Good.” You simply stated and dropped your hold on his neck so you could return it to its place on his chest, using it as leverage to help you continue your fast pace. Your orgasm was fast approaching, his cock hitting you in the perfect spot, all you needed was a bit more stimulation. When you brought your hand down to run fast circles onto your clit, you soon fell apart above him. Spencer couldn’t help but look up at you in awe, speechless at how beautiful you look while you writhed on top of him.

Your own release pushed Spencer close to the edge and he started to beg, “I’m gonna cum! Please, can I?”

His hands had tightened into fists above him, knuckles going white over the effort of keeping them right where you had placed them originally. You were pleased with the way he had begged, glad that he had asked permission before even thinking about cumming. You still left him in suspense for a bit longer as you continued to work yourself on his painfully hard cock. Pressing a few kisses to his exposed skin under his collar was admittedly just to torture him a bit longer before you finally gave the command.

“Cum for me then.” Spencer followed your command eagerly, taking only two more of you bouncing on top of him to release inside you with a groan. While he rode out his release his lips captured around one of your pebbled peaks, sucking hard to get one last moan out of you.

Slumping forward after you had both finished and you had taken the belt off his wrists with the promise you’d lotion them up after you cuddled. You rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to stay as close as possible for a little while longer. He started tracing his fingers up and down your spine, relaxing you even further, almost to the point of falling asleep.

Before your eyes closed shut in post coital sleepiness your mind wandered a bit back to Elle. Elle had been an important figure in his life, his first real connection with someone special. Sure you teased about being jealous, but you thought it was important to tell him that you were ok with him thinking back on her. You knew he loved you. It most likely would take time till he was able to think or talk about her without a sharp pain in his chest, reminding him of how it all ended.

He hadn’t told you exactly what had happened, but it wasn’t hard to fill in all of the gaps. You turned your head, eyelashes fluttering when you nuzzled into his hair. Then you spoke quietly just enough so the sound could travel the short distance to his ear, “You should frame the picture, you look cute in it. And, I meant to say it earlier, I love you too.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #30 fics in 30 days

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jonnnysuh · 3 years ago

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How To Write Good // Vernon

A/N: It all started with watching Vernon’s English tutor series and now we’re here omg. This is my first series so please give it some love <3 kind of unedited so lmk if there’s any mistakes! PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

PAIRING: Vernon x You

GENRE: enemies to ???, fluff, student!vernon, tutor!vernon

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

SUMMARY: There’s the crisp air of campus, the rush of something new, and a four year degree ahead of you. Your college experience doesn’t go off as smoothly as you’d hoped when you fall asleep on course selection day and are stuck with left over electives. Struggling to get through your creative writing class, you have no idea how you’re going to get through this semester. Fate steps in when the stranger you fought in the library might just be your only chance at passing. This is all just part of the college experience… right?

Orange leaves began surrounding the burnt red brick pathway, and the small green hills of the campus quad. Fall was fast approaching, without much warning. The bright summer sky, now often clouds of gray. The wind brushed past you, causing your hair to fly up. Your legs brushed together quickly as you tried to make your way through campus to get to your Writing in the Arts class. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't sleep through course selection but sometimes sleep was an actual priority to you...and it so happened to be on that day. Not your first choice, but definitely miles ahead of Economic History on the list of leftover electives.

You flipped over your wrist to take a look at the time on your brown pleather watch. 8:12.

Professor Hampton was an older woman, who always kept her sandy brown hair in a slick tight low bun. She had enforced a rule that the doors to the lecture hall would shut 15 minutes past the hour. If you didn’t make it then you’d have to get notes from a classmate. Maybe it’d be fine if you had a friend in the class that was actually punctual, but you had often sat alone in the same spot in the far left corner of the class room. Time was definitely never on your side as you reckoned you only had 3 minutes left until your trip downtown was rendered useless.

You swung the thick metal door open, and began pumping your legs forward, not stopping until you reached the top of the stairs. To your luck, the lecture hall was on the exact end of the hallway. As you took longer strides, your gray backpack bounced behind you. Finally arriving at the end of the long hallway, you came face to face with Professor Hampton, who had a scowl so thick you’d think it was drawn on with a felt tip permanent marker. Without an ounce of forgiveness, that old lady secured the door shut, eyes keen on your betrayed face just a few centimetres from hers.

With the little pride you still had, you contained the urge to bang on the door repeatedly and say "OPEN UP."

If you hadn't had time to get ready that day, or missed your bus, dammit this would've been the boiling point that would've driven you to kick the wall. Your saving grace was that there was a cute guy typing away on his laptop in this hallway and you'd be damned if you were about to look a fool.

It was that moment, you knew that if you were going to pass this class without sacrificing a wink of sleep, you were going to have to make a friend that was good at writing notes. And quick.

—

The next day, you navigated your way through the twists and turns of the library, never having had been there a day in your life. You swear you’d gone in a circle at this point. You promised your best friend, Taylor that you’d secure a spot for your impromptu study date. Although you both had good intentions, you knew it was more than likely going to become a gossip session that involved sometimes looking at class material.

Among the rows and rows of occupied tables, you finally found an empty table, situated next to the window that overlooked the architecture and art buildings. You settled in the chair, slipping your laptop out of your tote bag , and typing mindlessly to look busy while you waited for your friend. With a look around the room, you wondered if people actually studied at the library or if they were just faking it like you.

You were so immersed in your game of Tetris you almost didn’t hear the voice that said , “Hey, I think you’re at the wrong table.”

You paused your game and surveyed the empty wooden table you were sitting at. You blinked slowly at the brown haired man. “I was here first.”

“That might be true but I booked it out for the hour.” The stranger stood with a slight slouch, sporting a backwards snapback and a deep green hoodie. He didn't look like the type to hang out around the library- but then again, neither did you. You swear you had seen him before, but you couldn't place where.

Did I go to high school with him? you thought.

What if he was ugly and had a glow up and that’s why I don’t recognize him?

You took a closer look at him.

Nah. I don’t think he’s ever been ugly in his life.

“Look. My name's right here." He leaned forward, showing you his screen.

[TABLE 9] 3:00pm - Vernon C.

You pushed the phone away, unimpressed. "But you showed up late."

"It was only 6 minutes." Vernon scoffed, as if his tardiness would automatically forfeit him from his table.

"Well, have you ever heard of finder's keepers?"

Vernon nodded, his voice pointed. "But have you ever heard of fair and square?"

You tried your best to conceal the fact that you were somewhat amused by his elementary-level comeback.

"Could you look into your great, big heart to share?” You pouted tauntingly.

"Oh, yeah, because you need a table to play Tetris." He responded sarcastically but it was as if he had crept into your mind. You dreaded the idea of being on your feet trying to find another place for your game.

Your best friend rolled in between you two innocently, confused at the interaction at hand. It was like a kid walking in on their mom and dad fighting for the first time… except dad is a Tetris-hating stranger you just met 3 minutes ago.

“Sorry I’m late, Y/N.” Taylor interjected, trying her best to mend the atmosphere with a grin. Vernon's posture went notably straight as he exhaled, returning a sweet close-lipped smile. You couldn't help but notice the way he looked at your friend- you squinted at the shadow of the difference between this Vernon and the one that basically told you to fuck off only moments prior.

Without a doubt, you knew he was suffering from the "Taylor Effect".

Taylor was your textbook girl next door; equipped with a warm demeanour, and a confidence that was endearing rather than cocky. You could tell that Vernon was trying his best not to stare so obviously, but he was failing miserably.

Because everyone gravitated towards her, many found it odd that she chose to keep you as company. Sometimes you thought she stuck around only because your personalities were so starkly different and would emphasize how great she was, but time and time again she proved she was notable on her own accord.

"Did I interrupt something?"

You and the man shared a look.

Vernon had a feeling that if he let you speak first, that you might ruin his chances with Taylor, and there was absolutely NO shot that he was going to tell her what had just happened. You were quick to take advantage of the situation.

“Vernon just wanted to take the tab-“

He shook his head, "No, no, no I was just leaving."

You raised your eyebrow, smugly.

“I'll see you later,” He bid. Your eyes widened as he went closer to you, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you forwards into an almost embrace. He dapped you up. Vernon dapped you up. What? Did he think you were bros now?

Ya, right. You thought. This is my first and last time in this library. You will never see me or my Tetris again.

And with that, he swung his backpack over his shoulder coolly and headed down the long carpeted aisle in the other direction.

Only a few moments later did he return to go through the north exit. “Wrong way.” He mumbled, charting past both of you.

—

“So you don’t know anyone in that class?” Taylor said in disbelief as you two sat at the table you had only marginally won.

“No, I missed the first two weeks so by the time I actually went to class they already had their groups.” you responded, blowing air out of your mouth in frustration.

School had only just begun and Taylor had swept up a bunch of friends, including you, in just this one semester.

You, on the other hand, were awkward, but not in the forgivable way. You never knew the right thing to say, and your sarcasm drew a fine line between a joke and the truth. You felt like you always had to bite your tongue to hold a decent conversation with someone. In turn, this scared a lot of people away, and resulted in a small but good group of friends that understood you.

For some reason though, you did well with confrontation. That was the only time you could force yourself to not care about what someone else thought about you. Other than that, your communication skills were almost useless.

“So go up to those kids and say hi.” Taylor responded.

You knew your best friend was being well meaning, but sometimes she felt like she oversimplified your problems because she saw it through her own lens. Of course it would be easy for Taylor to do so, but for you it would be a different story. Your stomach turned at even the mere thought of introducing yourself to the group of strangers that always sat all the way in the front of the lecture hall.

“I’ll just figure it out. I don't know how to just talk to people."

“What about that guy that I just saw you with? What was that about?”

You cleared your throat, fixing your attention to your laptop screen. Getting work done suddenly seemed more interesting.

“No, no, no look at me.” Taylor dragged your laptop away.

You begrudgingly looked at your friend. “What about him?”

“Who was that? He was kind of cute.” She cupped her cheek with her hand and sat closer, clearly interested. It was rare to see you with anyone other than your usual friend group so Taylor was invested in your endeavours outside of it.

You knew that if you told Taylor about your weird argument with a stranger, that she’d explain that you were unfriendly, that you needed to be nicer, etc. etc. You didn’t need a lecture today.

“Just some dude who finished using the table.”

Taylor chuckled, “What kind of guy says bye like that to a person he just met?”

Her guess was as good as yours.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

Determination is setting 25 morning alarms, pre-picking your clothes and opting for an on-the-go breakfast in order to just make it on time for class. You took your final strides towards the class slowly, knowing you finally had time on your side. Would it be crazy to call waking up at 6am a victory? Doesn’t matter, you were just so happy, you could answer Professor Hampton’s questions… that is, if you listened.

At the bottom of the lecture hall, sat the aforementioned groups, while the top were lonesome stragglers looking at their phones in an effort to look less lonely. You knew they were probably just reviewing their settings; turning their wifi on and off.

Professor Hampton cleared her throat into the microphone at the front of the class, prompting you to pick up the pace to your regular spot at the far left corner.

No way.

Your speed slowed down again, as you craned your head to get a better look at a brown-haired boy sitting by himself.

Despite the numerous empty seats to choose from, your caffeine rush assisted you in making the possibly dumb decision of sitting exactly right next to him. He seemed unbothered, though as he didn’t look up to question it.

Professor Hampton played her slides, while you pulled out your laptop out of your tote bag.

“Hey.” You whispered.

The man’s light brown eyes flickered towards you.

“You’re in this class?” Vernon whisper-exclaimed.

It registered in your brain that this might’ve been a mistake.

You nodded.

Vernon kept his focus on the front of the class, his pencil swivelled away on his lined paper. You had never seen anyone actually take real-life notes before. You scanned his paper, pleasantly surprised at the organization.

“Why did you dap me up last week?”

“I honestly don’t know what I was doing.” He admitted.

Boys do dumb things around pretty girls. You'd seen it happen so many times with Taylor.

“She’s cute isn’t she?”

“Who?” Vernon was quick to play dumb, but he clearly knew.

You were fascinated by how he was writing and listening to you at the same time.

“Taylor—my friend.”

Vernon squinted his eyes, either to think or because he couldn’t see the projection clearly. It made you wonder why he sat in the back of the class if that was the case.

“Yeah, she is.”

Bingo.

You silently relished in your impromptu decision to sit next to a stranger.

“What would you say if I got you a date with her?”

Vernon put his pencil down. “You strike me as the kind of person who wouldn’t do that out of the kindness of your heart.”

You snorted. “You’re right.”

Vernon let out a deep sigh, pushing his hoodie sleeve up his arms. He relaxed back in his seat and stared at you as he waited for your proposal.

“What is it?” His deep voice was littered with impatience but it was clear he was at least curious.

You weren’t prepared to gain his full attention. Your mind went several ways as you collected your thoughts to be as concise as possible.

“I’m struggling in this class, okay? I can’t always make it on time, and creative writing? Not really something I’m interested in.”

“Then why’d you take the class?”

“Why does anyone do anything here? For the credit.” You responded as if the answer was obvious.

Vernon’s raised eyebrows was enough to tell you that he was actually passionate about this subject— which was perfect for you if you wanted to pass the class.

“How do I come into this, though?” His patience running thin from your incredibly interesting backstory.

“If you tutor me up until midterms and I pass, I’ll get you a date with Taylor.”

He shook his head “What if you fail?”

“Then you can take that as a reflection of your teaching skills,” Vernon rolled his eyes. Okay maybe that was a bad joke. “but on the plus side you’ve gained a new friendddddd.”

Professor Hampton gave you two a dirty look on her way back from shutting the lecture hall’s door. Vernon picked up his pencil to look busy and you tapped on your trackpad to turn the screen on.

“And what if I say no?” Vernon said between his teeth, catching the professor glare right at him with her scowl turned up to one hundred.

“Then I’ll shit talk about you to Taylor so you never have a chance.” You threatened. Your mom always urged you to use your brain, and boy, were you using it.

“You want me to teach you how to be creative?”

You shrugged. “I mean, how hard can it be?”

Vernon looked down at his notes contemplating his choices. He was silent for so long that you actually started typing notes.

“Y/N” Vernon whispered. You seemed to be fully immersed in the lesson now. Your eyes absorbing the information... Maybe writing was kind of fascinating.

“Y/N” He tried again, snapping you out of a trance.

“My bad.” you apologized. “I didn’t know the interesting part of the story was called the climax like ew—”

“I can only tutor you on Thursdays between 6 and 8 in the library. Bring your laptop and be prepared to learn.”

You knew you didn’t have class at those hours, so it should’ve been fine, but you also dreaded staying after school longer than you had to.

“What about 4-6?” You pleaded.

Vernon looked offended at your counter offer. “No. 6-8”

“4:30…?” You tried once again.

Vernon snorted at your no-quit attitude. “You wanna pass or not?”

You stuck out your hand defeatedly and Vernon shook on it before either of you could change your mind. Vernon was your new tutor.

Maybe Taylor was right. All you had to do was go up to someone and say “hi.”

And blackmail them. And use your friend as bait.

Making friends was easy.

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emilybradshaw · 2 years ago

Text

English Rose - A Bradley Bradshaw Story.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 already my lovelies! Hope you enjoy, just more fluff from the pair of them. Will they kiss? Won't they kiss? Read to find out...

Taglist: @bratshaws

The buzz of the alarm brought Emily from her sleep.

She hadn’t got to sleep until after 3am due to the sheer excitement she was feeling about her impending date with Bradley Bradshaw. She turned to look at her phone, 08:00am, England was 8 hours behind them in terms of time so she hoped Hayley was still awake as it’ll have just turned midnight back home.

She didn’t care as opened Messenger and clicked the video button in the top right corner, hoping she would pick up on the other end. It buzzed a few times before she was met with the sleepy eyed face of her best friend, her hair all over the place and her eyes black where she had clearly tried and failed to rub off before climbing into bed.

“Hey you” she smiled as she pulled herself up slightly to lean on the giant bear Emily had bought her from IKEA for Christmas, “why you facetiming me so late? Is everything okay?” she continued, her brows furrowing in concern.

“I’m sorry, everything is fine! Actually it’s brilliant, the thing is Hayl, I need your help… I may have bagged myself a date”

“A DATE” Hayley squealed, “OH MY GOD, EMILY!!”

“I KNOW!!” Emily replied, the excitement in her voice matching the girl on the other end of the call.

“So, tell me EVERYTHING, you’ve been there what, three days?”

“Three days yeah, I managed to find a room with someone called Penny, she’s so so nice and she’s given me a job at her bar”.

“She sounds so nice Em, now, tell me more about this date”

“Well, he’s called Bradley, he’s 34 and he’s a pilot”.

“A PILOT?!” Hayley squealed again, “EMILY ELIZABETH WALKER YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND”.

Emily just giggled at the sight of her best friend, who was sleepy five minutes ago but now seemed so wide awake at the news she had just received. “So, Hayley, this is where you come in. What the fuck do I wear?”

“Well what did you take with you?”

“Not a lot..”

“Oh Emily, come off it, I told you to pack more”

“I know, I know, I should’ve listened to you”

“You really should’ve. You should always listen to me, I always know best”, she chuckled.

“I wouldn’t go that far”, Emily said as she moved out of bed and propped her phone up against the lamp on the side table, moving to her still packed suitcase she unzipped it and tipped out the small amount of clothing she had brought with her to America. “The only outfit I think of is this, but it’s a bit, well, revealing.”

She held up a pair of denim Mom shorts and a red flowery crop cami. Hayley just smiled at the girl through her phone, clearly sensing her uneasiness. “Emily, that’s not revealing at all. It shows your legs off nicely and I personally love that outfit on you”.

“My legs Hayley, that’s the problem”, she sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re huge and big and fa-“

“Whoa, right, I’m gonna stop you right there, I am not having my best friend say that about herself. Your legs are not huge or fat. They’re big because of all the work you’ve put into them, the muscle in your legs is insane, you’re an Irish dancer for Christ’s sake Emily, they’re hardly gonna be small are they? And I warn you now, if you so much as think of calling yourself fat again I’ll be getting on the first flight over to you to bash your head into a brick wall, do you understand me?” Emily just nodded at her friend, “Plus, this Bradley must’ve liked what he saw or why would he have asked you out today?”

“Okay. Yeah. Thanks for that. I needed it. Sometimes I just look in the mirror and think ‘why would anyone like me?’ I mean I haven’t got a great track record with men have I Hayls.”

“Pfft, only because they were all wankers, Em. Nothing to do with you, you’re amazing”.

Emily smiled up at her phone and noticed her friend yawn, they must’ve been talking for nearly an hour and Emily realised Hayley would have to get up for work the next day, “I’ll let you go Hayl, you look exhausted, and I forgot you have work tomorrow”.

“Thanks Em, look, this date will go amazingly if you let it. Ring me later and give me the debrief, yeah?”

“I will do, love you.”

“Love you too.”

After the call ended Emily looked at the time and it was just gone 9am, so two and a half hours until Bradley was picking her up. She quickly ran downstairs and into the kitchen saying good morning to Penny, Pete and Amelia who were sat around the breakfast table, she made her apologies as to why she couldn’t eat breakfast and made herself a coffee before retreating back upstairs and jumping into the shower. Back in the kitchen Pete and Penny were talking over the fact that Bradley had asked Emily on a date so quickly and Penny mused that it could be ‘love at first sight’ based on the interaction she witnessed between the two the previous evening when Emily’s clumsiness made an appearance, Pete nearly choking on his coffee as Amelia renamed Bradley as Emily’s ‘Knight in shining armour’.

Emily jumped out of the shower and ran straight back into her room, she now only had two hours to get ready and she was panicked. She pulled her hair out of her towel and diffused it using her hair dryer, letting it dry slightly on its own so she could focus on her makeup for the day ahead.

She decided to keep it simple and went with her everyday routine of foundation, brows and contour but decided to add some winged eyeliner and a small set of false eyelashes she had found lurking at the bottom of her suitcase, presumably from the trip she and Hayley had taken to Ibiza. Yet again she had every single bit of jewellery on that she could manage, it was in fact identical to what she was wearing the previous day when she was on shift at The Hard Deck and of course she was wearing her name necklace that Bradley had first used to identify her.

She then yanked on her shorts, huffing to herself as she looked at her muscly legs in the mirror, but she quickly remembered what Hayley had said to her and pulled on her cami top, glancing at her reflection again she did like the way she looked, but she did also notice that two of her more intimate piercings were very noticeable, she shrugged this off again and realised Bradley would only really notice if he spent their date staring at her boobs, and she hoped he had more substance than that. Emily’s phone buzzed and pulled her from these thoughts.

Bradley: Hey Princess, I’ll pick you up a little earlier if that’s alright? Say 11?

Emily: Hey, yeah that’s great, thank you Roos!

Both Emily and Bradley felt their hearts skip a beat as they both read the texts with the little terms of endearment in them. For Bradley, he loved that she was already shortening his call-sign and for Emily, well, she just loved being called his Princess already. These two were falling hard for each other already.

Emily was sat on the step of the porch with Amelia when Bradley pulled up in his Bronco. “Oh Lord, he’s here” she whispered to Amelia as she looked up to see the vehicle coming to a stop at the top of the path.

“I can see that, I have eyes you know” Amelia whispered back, sarcasm at the forefront of her voice.

Emily just shot her a cold stare as she got up from the wooden decking and adjusted her clothes as she headed off down the drive, Amelia smirking to her as Bradley got out of the driver’s seat to open the door for her.

“I forgot your cars are the other way round to ours” she laughed as he opened the door for her, shutting it gently as she climbed in and secured her seatbelt.

“Yeah, and we drive on the opposite side of the road as well” Bradley retorted, laughing along with the girl in his Bronco. “May I say, Emily, you look absolutely gorgeous, like really”.

Emily blushed at this, she’d never experienced a man like Bradley before, so courteous and kind. He was a rare breed and she was so glad to have met him. “Why thank you, if I may say, you look very handsome today too”. Bradley was wearing his standard jeans and Hawaiian shirt combo, but it was a look he pulled off so well. Bradley half removed his aviators at her comment, subtly scanning her up and down in a smooth, fluid movement, so subtle that he thought Emily wouldn’t have clocked it, but oh how she did. Her insides flipped. Bradley Bradshaw was quite literally checking her out.

“So, where are we going?” she asked, snapping back to reality.

“I thought we’d head into town so you can get your bearings, then if you’ll let me I was going to buy you lunch, Miss Walker.” He smiled at her as he started to roll the Bronco from its position outside Penny’s home, watched by Amelia as he did so.

“Bradley you don’t have to buy me lunch” she challenged,

“I know I don’t, but I want to, Princess.” There he goes again with the ‘Princess’, against her better judgement, she decided she was going to ask him about it.

“Princess?”

“Well, yeah it’s sweet plus your English and you guys have a Queen over there don’t you?”

“Yeah we do, I’m named after her actually. It’s her Platinum Jubilee next year, she’ll have been on the throne for 70 years”

“Named after her, ey? Well then, I’ll stop calling you Princess and start calling you Queenie” he laughed, as did she. Subconsciously he moved his hand to rest on the top of her thigh and smiled to himself when she didn’t shy away from his touch. Emily meanwhile was nearly spontaneously combusting at this move, his hand was so big it made her thigh look small.

Bradley parked the Bronco up outside the row of shops in the town near to where he had planned to take Emily for lunch. Truth is, he’d been up half the night with Hangman and Payback planning where he was going to take ‘Emily from England’ as she would now forever be known to them. He took her for a walk around the town, showing her the shops and telling her the places she could get the best deals for things, then told her the bus routes that would take her to different places if she wanted it and then decided to walk her along to the diner for some lunch, he knew this is where Emily had come on her first day when she was looking for somewhere to stay so thought she would enjoy being back.

“Here we are then” he spoke as they walked up to Martha’s. “Thought we’d eat here as it’s the best food in town.”

“I love it in here, Martha was the first proper person I spoke to here other than the taxi driver” she said as she headed into the diner, immediately being enveloped in a large hug by no other than Martha herself.

“I knew I’d be seeing a lot of you around here, child. And with Lieutenant Bradshaw too, how sweet. Here, take any seat you like” she beamed, handing them both menus as she scuttled off into the kitchen.

Emily and Bradley sat down in a booth towards the back of the diner, “you know this has been really fun so far, thank you Bradley”, Emily mumbled from behind her menu.

“It’s my pleasure, I’ve really enjoyed myself too”, Bradley too scanned the menu, both fell silent for a moment as they decided what to order, “I think I’ll go for the cheeseburger with fries, how predictable of me” he chuckled.

“I’ll go for the Buttermilk chicken tenders I think, they sound too good not to eat”

“Ready to order my dears?” Martha spoke as she tootled over to them.

“Yes, thank you, I’ll have the chicken tenders and a diet coke please”

“and I’ll have the cheeseburger with a diet coke too, thanks Martha”

“No problem my dears, coming right up”, and with that, she was off again to whip up their lunch.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, both just enjoying the time they were spending with each other, but Emily broke that silence with a nervous cough.

“Bradley…” she started,

“Yeah”

“I was wondering, you probably don’t know this but, its worth a shot. There aren’t any Irish Dance Schools in Miramar are there?”

“Irish Dance Schools?”

“Yeah, I’ve danced since I was four, kinda want to keep it up while I’m out here”

“I’m not sure, there must be one somewhere though, why don’t you google it when you’re home?” he suggested, “that’s pretty cool though, never met an Irish dancer before, you compete?”

“I did, just retired after this year’s World Championships, been competing since I was seven so I have my fair share of trophies, plus I want to study to take my Grade 12 exam which means I wouldn’t be allowed to compete anymore when I get it” Bradley just sat smiling at the girl before him, talking so passionately about her hobby, no wonder she had those eye catching legs, she’s worked so hard for them, how he’d love to just grab them and squeeze them, he was brought from his thoughts by Emily’s revelation that she was currently ranked 8th in the World, a huge achievement for any dancer, but she beamed with sheer pride as she said it.

“That’s seriously impressive Emily, well done you. I’m sure any dance school here will take you in with an achievement like that!” he encouraged. See, he knew she had low self-confidence, he worked that out in the bar the night before.

Martha re-joined the table with their food and drink in hand, quickly giving them their respective orders and letting the couple get back to the conversation they were both so deeply enthralled in. After they’d eaten Bradley settled the bill and the two strolled out of the diner, both full to the brim with Martha’s delicious cooking. Emily linked her arm through Bradley’s without a second thought as they meandered back to the Bronco, they really had hit it off.

Bradley drove them back to Penny’s house and once again helped her out of her side of the truck and walked her up the path, stopping on the decking she was sat on earlier with Amelia. It was now 2:30 and the pair had been out for ages, Emily knew Amelia was going to her friends to do some school work and Penny and Pete would no doubt either be at The Hard Deck or on Penny’s boat.

“I had a really good time today Bradley, thank you so so much”, she smiled as she whirled round to face him, her hand coming to rest on his bicep.

“I did too, I was wondering if you wanted to do it again? Maybe Sunday? You could come and hang out with me and the guys, we play some football on the beach on the afternoon.”

She didn’t need asking twice, “I’d love to, yes”, she beamed. The two didn’t say anything as they gazed into each other’s eyes, Bradley placing a hand on Emily’s hip, his hand coming up and gently caressing the gap in between her shorts and top, it felt like an age until one of them broke the silence.

“Can I?” Bradley questioned, not taking his eyes off of hers for a second.

Emily knew what he meant and what he wanted, she wasn’t usually a kiss on a first date sort of girl, but Bradley had this hold on her that she couldn’t quite shake, and God, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him right here, right now. She gently nodded her head and Bradley moved his hand to her cheek, gliding his thumb over it as he pulled her in. The kiss was soft, both being very gentle with the other, Emily’s hands went to Bradley’s hair as she pulled him in closer, only then did he deepen the kiss, moving his hand from her hip to encircle her waist, holding her body as close to his as he could get. Pure bliss, that’s what this was, until…

“Ugh can you two get a room”

Bradley and Emily broke away from each other wide eyed as she looked to her left and saw none other than Amelia, “I thought you had gone to your friends house?”

“Change of plan” she sniggered, “date went well then”, that part came out as a statement rather tha a question, the smirk and raised eyebrow so obvious on her face.

“Thank you Amelia, you ruined a perfectly brilliant moment”, Emily retorted as Amelia slid past them into the house. “I’m so sorry about her, I had no idea”

“It’s no biggie, I enjoyed that though… a lot” he said, still holding onto her as he looked down into her eyes. “Can we do it again?”

“Not with her stood at the window looking at us, no. But I’m sure on Sunday we could give it another go” she smiled up at him, moving her hand to his cheek and grazing over the scar.

“I don’t want to wait that long” Bradley whined,

“Well you’re gonna have to, besides it’s only two days away” she spoke, releasing herself from his grip and giving him a quick peck on the lips as she did so, “I’d best get inside, I’m working the bar again tonight so need to get ready”.

“Sure thing, I’ll see you Sunday then my gorgeous girl” he said with a wink as he mooched back to the Bronco, getting in and flashing her a smile as he drove off.

My gorgeous girl, she thought. That was the best first date she had ever been on, everything about it was just incredible, but the kiss. THE KISS. It was the most beautiful thing she has ever experienced, how could a man she had met 24 hours ago make her feel this way?

One thing was for certain, it would be a long two days of not seeing Bradley. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

#bradley bradshaw x midsize oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun maverick

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Always Have a Place (Preath x Teen!Reader)

Request: learning to love part 2 with reader being super attached to Chris and Tobin then someone coments about it and reader starts to feel insecure about it again and Tobin and Chris has to reassure her again

You pulled the blankets tighter around you, padding through the chilly apartment towards the sound of your mama’s voice. The cold Manchester weather wasn’t quite agreeing with you, and paired with the holidays, you had been a bit on edge for the past few days.

You never understood what the big fuss around Christmas was (as you had never been visited by Santa when you were younger), and Christmas Trees kinda freaked you out (Forster father number 3 had sent one through a window on your first Christmas with them). Though Christen and Tobin tried to show you some holiday traditions, you just didn’t understand why making cookies and drinking hot chocolate were supposed to put the world in a more giving mood.

You rounded the corner, glancing to the left where Christen was sitting on the couch, and Right where Tobin was talking at the dining room table. You thought it was strange they never did video calls from the same room, but if it made them happy then who were you to judge.

You sighed, deciding that Christen looked more cuddly, and began shuffling in her direction. She glanced over the top of her laptop at you, opening her arms to invite you in as she took in your tired form.

“Hmm, you’re warm,” You mumbled, wigging into the woman to find your favorite spot. Christen giggled, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you closer, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. The two of you had grown close (almost as close as you and Tobin) in the past few months, and while you and Tobin bonded over art, you had become her cuddle buddy. Plus with the bad feelings the holidays always dredged up, you had been a bit more clingy than usual (not that her or Tobin were complaining) and her calming figure had put you at ease.

“I’m glad baby, just a few more minutes and then we can all go to bed alright?” Christen asked softly, running a comforting hand through your hair.

“You don’t have to rush, I’m comfy now,” You mumbled, allowing your mom’s scent to relax you. Now that she was here to ward off your nightmares, you were finding it difficult to stay awake.

“Awe, is our favorite designer in training tired?” Megan jested from the screen, and you stuck your tongue out at her.

“In training? My design sold out in less than a day,” you grumbled. You had been honored to work with your Ma on the popsicle capsule and were super excited that your work had done well. It was nice to know your art was appreciated, even if it wasn’t the typical portraits you did.

Megan laughed, nodding in concession, glad you had warmed up to her. You were making amazing strides with not only the women that had become your moms but with the team as a whole.

“The time change is a little much for us all I think,” Tobin said, glancing over at the two loves of her life from the kitchen table. God, you had come so far, had grown so comfortable coming to them when you weren’t feeling alright.

“We all know the truth, that kid is just super attached to you, and probably can’t even sleep by herself,” Kling laughed, not noticing how you flinched slightly. You didn’t know Kling as well as you knew Megan or any of the other members of the USWNT and you weren’t quite sure how to take her teasing.

“I can attest that Y/n is pretty cuddly. I don’t know how you detach her to train sometimes,” Pino shrugged and your eyebrows furrowed. Did Pino think you were too clingy too? Did she think you were holding your mom’s back? If they couldn’t train, they couldn’t be the best. They wouldn’t want you anymore if you were hindering them.

You twisted slightly uncomfortable, pulling away from Christen’s comforting embrace.

“I’m gonna go back to bed,” You mumbled, tucking your Batman blanket tighter around you.

“You sure babe?” Christen asked, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Hmm,” You hummed, shuffling off to go and cuddle Roary. Hopefully, he could keep your nightmares away (not missing Tobin’s “Nice going, Kling,”).

****

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright and clutching your blanket tightly to your chest. You gulped down the bile that rose in your throat. You ran your hand across your forehead, pushing the sweaty strands of hair from your clammy skin.

You blinked at the red number of the clock, the little 2 mocking you. It was the 4th time this week. Every part of you longed to go find the comfort your Mom and Mama always offered when you had a nightmare. But you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb them. Kling was right, how the hell were they supposed to play well with you bothering them every time you had a little scary dream. You were 14, not 4.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and smoothing your thumb over both of your closed eyes in an effort to chase away the images that plagued your sleep. You were never going to get back to sleep now.

You leaned over and grabbed your trusty drawing pad, before quietly tiptoeing out of the room, and down the hall. You paused as you passed the slightly ajar door to your moms’ room. They never complained about your frequent visits to their bed or pushed you to tell them which ghost from your past had made you end up there.

You shook your head, taking a second to convince yourself that not going to them was going to benefit you in the end. If you stopped bothering them, being so clingy, they wouldn’t get tired of you. They wouldn’t get rid of you.

You continued down the hallway, bypassing the kitchen in favor of turning into the living room. You stared out the bay windows, wishing for a minute that you were back in Portland. That you had the balcony to stand on and collect your racing thoughts, and the cool night air to ground you back in reality. Alas, you were here in the UK instead.

You sighed again, curling up on the little window seat, staring listlessly at the drizzly night sky, and flipping mindlessly through the pages of your sketchbook.

You settled on a blank page, mindlessly tapping your pencil on the paper. Your thoughts wandered, taking in the skyline as though it would tell you what to draw, how to set your mind at ease. The movement of your reflection in the window caught your attention, and suddenly you knew exactly what to draw. How to get your brain to stop obsessing over them leaving you.

****

Tobin sighed as she entered the living room. It was the 5th time this week she had walked into the same sight of you slumped against the living room window, your pencil paused over your coveted sketchbook, which was balanced precariously on your knee.

“She’s out here Chris,” Tobin called quietly down the hallway. How they had gone to waking up with you almost always cuddled between them (or on the foot of their bed) to you virtually pulling away entirely they weren’t sure. It hurt to see the brick wall around your heart rebuilding itself in front of their eyes.

Christen padded up next to her, wrapping her arms around Tobin's waist and resting her head on her shoulder. “Again?” She asked, the sadness evident in her tone. They thought they had gotten over the hurdle of convincing you to come to them for help, plus she was starting to miss her cuddle buddy.

“Hm, we need to get to the bottom of this,” Tobin mumbled, leaning back into her wife. It wasn’t healthy for you to be awake all night, even if you were processing your emotions through art, if for you to be pushing them away. They tried not to push you too hard, tried to let you come to them, but you clearly weren’t. They were going to need to intervene soon.

“I’ll make the coffee, if you want to wake little miss up,” Christen murmured into her neck, placing a soft kiss before heading off towards the kitchen.

You may have been her cuddle buddy, but you always had an easier time opening up to Tobin. Her chill demeanor set you at ease.

Tobin nodded making her way over to you, making a mental note to put an extra blanket on the window seat in case this was going to continue.

She crouched in front of you, carefully maneuvering the dangling sketchbook out of your hand, barely glancing at the still open page as she set it on the coffee table, and placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“Hey kiddo, it’s time to wake up,” she said softly, rubbing your leg to rouse you.

“Hm, what time is it,” You asked, pushing your forehead against the cool glass and blinking sleepily at the woman.

“Just after 8. What time did you come out here?” She questioned softly.

You shrugged, yawning loudly. “Like 1:30. I couldn’t go back to sleep after my dream so I decided to come out here for a bit,” You lazily gestured towards your sketchbook “thought I could work through it and I guess I fell asleep,”

“Why didn’t you wake Me or Mom up, we would have hung out with you until you could get back to sleep,” The woman pressed, cupping your face and running her thumb over your cheek, brushing the dark circles that had grown more prominent under your eyes. You leaned into her touch, allowing it to ease your fears for the moment.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. Your both starting today,” you said.

Tobin squinted at you, her head tilting to the side. You were more important to them than any starting position, they thought you knew that. It was a piece to the puss me that was this change in your behavior, but she couldn’t seem to put her finger on the rest. She couldn’t quite see how it fit.

“You could never be a bother to us babe, we love you and want to help you. And you’re our priority, never worry about soccer when it comes to stuff like this. If one of us has to sit out, it’s no biggie,” She said, looking you in the eye, repeating the words that had become their mantra to you.

You hummed noncommittally, abruptly pulling yourself out of her grasp, looking away from her piercing gaze. That was too close, and you didn’t want her to make a promise you knew she wouldn’t keep. It would hurt less later if you didn’t believe her.

“Is mom making pancakes?”

*****

Christen was worried. Very worried. She hadn’t meant to go snooping, but the sketch on the page of your open notebook had caught her attention, and once she started she couldn’t stop.

It was a striking image. The drawing of the view from their apartment was nice, but what really caught her eye was the reflection of you in the glass. There was something about your expression that tore at her very soul.

You drew what you felt, and if you had this much disparity, then something was very wrong.

“Have you seen this,” She asked her wife breathlessly. Tobin glanced at the page, nodding once. It had been the same sketch 4 days in a row, the only thing that changes were the expression. The eyes growing emptier, the shadows getting bigger. She bit her lip.

“We have to let her come to us, babe. All we can do is try to be there for her,”

And try to be there for you they had. They increased their touches (trying not to feel hurt when you pulled away), Tobin scheduled extra time for the two of you to work on the capsule together. Hell, Christen even started leaving hot chocolate in the window seat for you. But nothing seemed to be working. You were slowly slipping away and neither of them knew why.

Christen sighed, glancing back at the sketch, so beautifully haunting. “I just want her to let me help,��

“She will, you just have to let her sort through whatever it is first,”

*****

Your moms were on their feet mere seconds after your first shriek, racing across the hall and into your room, searching for the threat. They released a breath they didn’t know they were holding when they saw you alone in your bed until another strangled cry left your lips.

“No, I’ll be good, please don’t leave,”

That was all it took for them to jump into action, Tobin flipping on your bedside light, and Christen crawling into bed beside you.

“Hey baby, wake up, it’s just a bad dream,” your mom said, wrapping you up in her arms and rubbing your back to rouse you from sleep.

“Mom?” You asked disoriented, trying to fight the gentle hands keeping you from accidentally hurting yourself.

“Shh, I’m here, you’re ok,” Christen said, pulling you into her lap. You buried your face in her neck, gripping her nightshirt so tightly the cotton was straining in your grasp.

You sobbed into her neck, your tears making the skin sticky. “Don’t leave me please,” You begged, the words garbled by tears and your adamant refusal to pull away from your favorite hiding spot. Christen shushed you, rubbing your back with one hand and cradling your head with the other, sharing a worried glance with Tobin over your head. The other woman stood next to your bed, her hands opening and closing, shifting foot to foot unsure how to help you.

“Never baby. We’re not going anywhere,” Christen soothed, gesturing for Tobin to take your other side. She did, hugging you from behind to let you know that she was there too.

They held you as you cried, whispering sweet nothings over your unintelligible whimpering.

“I’m sorry I’m too clingy. That you can’t practice as much as you used too,”

“No baby, we don’t feel that way at all. We love you, and we want to be here for you,”

“But Kling and Pino-“ You protested, only to be cut off by Tobin solemnly shaking her head. “Were joking, they didn’t mean anything by it. They’re both glad that you are opening up to them,”

You stared at her in disbelief (and Tobin made a mental note to murder her friends for being assholes. They needed to learn that even though you felt comfortable, your fears and insecurities were not something to be picked on, even with the best intentions).

“And so are we. We’re glad and honored that you’ve opened up to us, and let us see your goofy side, and your amazing art,” She added, brushing a wild curl from in front of your eyes.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. We love how cuddly you are- it makes up for the 13 years we didn’t get with you,” Christen said, squeezing you tighter just to prove her point. It had taken you a long time to let them in, and though it was still a work in progress, they were honored you trusted them. That you had let them in further than anyone before.

“Will you stay?” You asked in a small voice, almost afraid of the answer.

“Always,” Your moms answered together. Tobin pulled back the covers, allowing Christen to maneuver the two of you inside before joining you. You sighed, reveling in their safety. Here, wedged between the women, you knew you would always have a place.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #preath x reader #preath imagine

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yoonia · 4 years ago

Text

About Time // Part 20.5

➬ Character | Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 9,2k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | LGBT+ conversations, mentions of fighting and alcohol consumption

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

(Taehyung’s POV)

Song Companion: Teflon Sega - No Turning Back

—First life, year 2005—

My parents loved to take me on car rides ever since I was a little boy.

They had always said it was one of the easiest ways they had found that could calm me down from what they called as ‘one of my moods’—whatever that meant.

In a way, car rides had always felt comforting. It was better to be stuck in a car instead of staying at home, where it felt stuffy and lonely, even if my parents would only drive around the neighbourhood instead of taking me anywhere far. It was still better because looking out the car window allowed me to see everything—the trees we passed by, the land around us and the mountains in the distance—and they were all still better to look at compared to the sight that I could see out my bedroom window. Nothing but the neighbours’ rusty walls and the empty lot behind our house that neighbourhood kids would use to hangout at. Sometimes, my parents would even drive all the way to the next town. Or even further to the next, in which we would stay a bit longer at instead of heading back to where we had taken off from earlier that same morning.

It wasn’t until when I was a bit older when I finally understood what it had truly meant to be driving so far and why my parents would pack up various boxes when we were off to travel somewhere. That sometimes when my father said, “Let’s go for a drive,” it would not always mean that he was talking about driving around the neighbourhood to go sightseeing.

Sometimes, I would pay enough attention to notice when we were not going to return to the same home once the drive ended. Just like how this car ride had felt different compared to the last times I sat there in the backseat of my Dad’s car.

Looking out the window, I immediately knew that this was not one of those rides where my father would be driving me around the block or down to the rice fields and farmlands around where we lived at the time. I already knew which kind of drive this was when it had included my Mom packing most of our things into the car and when I could see the moving truck following us close behind when I looked over the rear window.

It had been a while since we had gotten on a long trip that I thought we would never be taking off again. We had left before the sunrise, and hours had passed but we were still going, passing the villages and small towns, then the long highway. We only stopped a few times to eat and to use the bathroom. Sometimes I would fall asleep and wake up at a new place, but it seemed like we would be on the road for a long time.

I kept my eyes out on the road with my head pressed against the car window, watching the trees flashing by, the old houses and the stores turning into hills before we were passing through more buildings. Then I must have dozed off a bit longer at some point because it was almost dark when we finally stopped.

Really stopped.

I jumped on my seat when the sound of the car doors opening and closing woke me up, then I looked around to see that my Dad had parked the car in front of a house.

“We’re here!” I heard my Mom said, opening the backseat’s door to get me. “Come on, Tae. Let’s take a look at the new house.”

I was still feeling sleepy when I finally stepped out of the car. My legs were heavy and my back was hurting, but I followed my Mom as she walked around the car, rubbing my eyes all the way down from the car. I stopped before we could step onto the porch, looking at the house that looked old, but a lot bigger than the one we used to live in. The walls were made of red bricks, and we had a front yard too with green grass on it, unlike the dry patches we had at the old house.

“Taehyung, come in. Let me show you your new room,” I heard my Mom calling me from the front door. I took one last look at the house before I ran to her, excited and scared at the same time as I walked up the porch and followed her into the house.

Our new home.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going on a playdate.”

We had been in this new town for a week. My Dad had been busy with his new job, but both me and my Mom had been staying home, unpacking all the boxes and cleaning up the new house. The only times I had seen my Mom not doing anything at the house was when a few neighbours came to visit or when she went out to do some groceries. This was the first time she finally took me out. Her hand was holding mine as we walked side by side on the sidewalk, heading somewhere at the end of the street.

“A what?”

“A playdate.”

“What’s that?”

My Mom reached out to brush my hair with her fingers while she kept the other hand still holding mine. Both of us knew that whatever she did on my hair wouldn’t help much and I would probably get them all messy again in a minute, but maybe she needed to keep herself busy because she seemed more nervous than I was and maybe she figured she could try to keep my hair look tidy and decent before we got to where she wanted us to go to.

“It means you get to play with a new friend while I get to know our new neighbours,” she said, looking almost distractedly when she spoke. I looked up and that was when I confirmed how nervous she was. Back at our old home, we rarely became friends with the neighbours living close by. Most of the people we knew were older people, and some of my Mom’s friends lived a bit far from home, making it hard for her to see them regularly. “You’re going to start school in a week, and yesterday, Mrs Jung from down the street told me that her children are going to the same school as you are. She invited us to visit so that you can get to know them and make friends with them so you can have someone to play with.”

“I had friends,” I said, scrunching my nose. It made my Mom stop, and she kneeled down next to me with a rueful smile.

“I know, honey,” she said, sighing, once again reaching up to brush my hair back again after a breeze made a few strands fall over my face. “I know that it sucks to move away again, but I promise you, you can have many new friends and a lot of fun. Just like how we used to.”

Mom gave me another smile before she stood back up, already continuing the walk. I said nothing as I walked with her, not even to explain that it wasn’t just about making new friends that I was worried about. “Why did we move here?”

“We told you. Your Dad got a new job here,” she said to me while glancing sideways at me.

“What’s wrong with the old one?”

This time, my Mom laughed a little. “Nothing wrong with that one,” she sneered, sighing the same way she would when she was trying not to get angry. I remembered how she kept telling my Dad how much she hated his old job. Because he went away a lot and he was always tired and cranky whenever he came home from work. “Your Dad got himself a better job in this town and there was no way we could have stayed in that old town we lived in. He won’t be away too much now like he did when he was working in that factory since he’s going to be sitting behind the desk more. Our house is also bigger, isn’t it? And the school is going to be better.”

My Mom was getting more excited the more she spoke, and all I did was give her a nod. “Okay.”

Soon, we were standing on the front porch of a house that looked a bit similar to our new house. Except that the front yard had more bushes and flowers and the grass was trimmed and looked fresh, unlike the ones we had in ours, and the walls were painted white. The door was opened only a few minutes after my Mom rang the bell and a woman appeared to welcome us. She looked about the same age as Mom, with a wide smile that looked friendly and it made me feel less nervous about being here. They chatted for a moment before the woman turned to me.

“And this must be Taehyung. Oh, it looks like you’re about the same age as my kids. I heard that you’re going to be at the same school with them, so I hope you kids can be good friends. My son is a bit older, but I think you can get along with him just fine. I know that boys can have a hard time getting along with girls, though I have no doubt that you can get along with my daughter. She’s always good at adjusting to new friends, even if she’s a bit younger. She skipped a year and got into school early because she got bored in kindergarten.”

We walked in with my Mom still holding my hand. I was not completely sure if she was doing that to stop me from running or if she was still nervous about being here. Meanwhile, Mrs Jung continued to talk about her children as she led us all the way to the back of the house.

“Here we are,” Mrs Jung said as we entered the dining room. There was a girl who looked a bit younger than me sitting at the dining table while drawing with crayons, and Mrs Jung immediately called for her attention. “Honey, come here. We have a new friend. Maybe you want to say hi and play with him for a while while I have a chat with Mrs Kim?”

The girl looked up to us and jumped out of her chair. She didn’t even seem nervous when she was walking over to us. I couldn’t remember having any girl as a friend in my old school. Most of them had always stayed away from the boys at school and I had no trouble doing the same. But when she came to me, she showed no sign of turning away or looking at me funny just like other girls did.

All she did was look at me with wide curious eyes, and it really felt like we had known each other already when she raised her hand to me. “Hi, my name is _________. What’s yours?”

School started a few months ago. Overall, I thought it was okay.

Everything was different compared to my old school. Just like everything else in this town compared to the small town we moved out from, the school was much bigger than the one I went to. Most of the students in my class had already formed their groups—another thing that the old school certainly did not have, because, with smaller classes, nobody had any problem getting close to each other. I still made a few friends, though. Not a lot, but it wasn’t like I really needed a lot of friends either.

It was lunchtime when I sat at the edge of the playground, eating the sandwich and handmade kimbab that my Mom made for me. I was glad not to be sitting alone, as I had my new friend sitting beside me. The playdate that my Mom took me to after we moved here had turned out to be a lot of fun. ________ was fun to play with and we would have continued playing on that first day we met if only my Mom didn’t come to call me in for dinner.

After that day, we had gone into a couple more playdates before school started. I was also introduced to her brother, Hoseok, and the three of us would play and hang out together whenever my Mom would take me to visit their house on the weekends. At school, _____ and I shared the same class, and although we didn’t sit together in class, we would always eat together at lunchtime.

“Why aren’t you playing with them?” she asked me while we were watching the boys from our class playing dodge ball in the playground.

I only shrugged after looking over to the field, watching them throwing the ball at each other. “I don’t play ball.”

She snickered. “Yeah, you do. You played ball with Hoseok last week,” she argued, her brows were pinched the same way she would when she grew curious or annoyed.

I scrunched my nose at her. “That’s different. That was football,” I told her, and she shrugged at me in return.

“Still a ball,” she sassed while rolling her eyes at me.

“Whatever,” I said. “Besides, I don’t really get along with the boys from our class.”

“So you’re more okay sitting with a girl,” she said, more like making a statement instead of questioning me.

“What’s wrong with that?”

She looked away for a moment. “I don’t know. The other boys seem to make it a big deal.”

“That’s silly,” I scoffed at her. I didn’t really care about what people think. It never mattered to me anyway because I didn’t even care about what they did around me either. And I never liked forcing myself to get along with people that didn’t like me. “Besides, I like you better.”

She suddenly laughed when she heard me. It was the kind of laugh that made her head fall back, which was actually pretty adorable. “I thought you like my brother a lot more.”

Grinning at her, I just shrugged and bit my sandwich. “So I like both you and Hoseok. Playing with you and your brother is more fun.”

“Right. Of course, it is,” she said, giggling while nudging at my side. “You’re okay if people think you’re weird for hanging out with me instead of the boys?”

“I don’t care,” I told her, shaking my head. “How about you?”

______ looked around before smiling at me and said, “Me neither.”

We continued to eat for a moment before I thought of something. “What if you’re my girlfriend?”

“What?”

I shrugged, but kept my eyes away from her. “Maybe if we become boyfriend and girlfriend it won’t look weird for us to sit together like this.”

She had her nose scrunched when I took a glance at her. “Kids don’t become boyfriends and girlfriends.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, they do. You just don’t know about it yet.”

She pinched her brows again, thinking seriously about it. “Is it because you’re older than everyone else in class?”

“What do you mean?”

“My Mom said that you were supposed to be one grade above me, not share the same class,” she said. Despite what she just told me, she just didn’t realise that she always sounded like an older girl when she spoke like that. “Is that why everyone looks at you weird sometimes?”

I didn’t say a thing. She was not wrong, though. With my parents moving so much and having to change schools each time it happened, it was hard for me to catch up with classes. After constantly going to new places, making new friends, new adjustments, then the last school I went to insisted that I stayed a year behind to catch up on what I had missed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t really care,” I said. And I really didn’t. After a while, I had stopped caring about all the moving and what it did. But some kids always made it a big deal when this older kid joined their class in the middle of the term. Not at the previous school I went to, though. They seemed to think I was cool because I knew a lot more than they did.

“Do you care if I’m older?” I asked her.

I had expected her to at least consider her answer for a moment, but all she said was, “No, I like having older friends.” Then she scrunched her nose as if she had just realised something. “But not too old. Hoseok’s friends are weird.”

A bite of the sandwich almost got caught in my throat when I laughed. After swallowing it down with the cold juice I brought with me from home, I turned to her and grinned. “Fine, if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, then—” I cleared my throat and offered her my pinky finger. That was one of the things I learned from her since we became friends, and I figured it would be the best option to gain her approval when I made the offer, “How about best friends?”

Her smile grew. She seemed confused at first, but she managed to realise that I was serious and gave me her pinky to link it to mine. “The bestest friends!”

I snickered. “That’s not even a word!”

“It is now!”

—First life, year 2017—

There was something about being in the library that I enjoyed most.

The calm and serene air. The scent of books. Then there was some kind of warmth that I couldn’t find anywhere else whenever I was there.

It was fall, and the library had been pretty much packed with students that were trying to catch up with readings and assignments as the midterm was coming closer. Sitting among the students, I had chosen a reading booth on the far corner of the library, and I had my best friend, _______, sitting with me. She wasn’t too big on libraries. She never even truly cared about studying either. But after wasting her freshman year partying and enjoying life on campus, and then getting too focused on her relationship with the prick from one of the campus’ frat house all through sophomore year, she needed to catch up a lot on her studying and I was the one responsible in making sure that she did.

But that day, our agenda was not only about getting her to finish reading her textbooks or finding the materials needed for our midterms.

That day, we were scouting.

“That’s him,” I pointed out across the room just as he passed by, and _____ perked up, her gaze following the direction where I was pointing at until she saw him. I only knew she did when her eyes grow wide with a hint of amusement and appreciation. He really did have that kind of effect on people, whether it was male or female. “His name is Kim Namjoon. A senior of mine on my social study class,” I explained to her, mentioning the class I had taken last semester for my minor.

“Wow—you do have a taste there. He’s hot,” she said as she leaned closer, whispering to me while giving him another look. “—and a bit too handsome as someone who is going to be cutting through people’s brains,” she also added.

I snickered. “Yeah, right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I thought you like pretty boys better.” I said that because compared to the guy she was dating, Namjoon was the complete opposite. Jungkook was good looking, hence the popularity he had gained all through college. With the kind of smile that girls found cute and a pair of doe eyes that would always make it hard for my best friend to say no to. But Namjoon was tall, with broad shoulders and nice-looking hair. His sharp gaze showed just how smart he was and there was this confidence that he had that could make people look up to him in awe.

The same way I did ever since the first day I met him.

He didn’t seem to work out a lot, but his arms still looked like a tight fit beneath the sleeves of his sweater. And then there were those dimples, that would always show up each time he smiled, making people swoon for him without him trying too much.

“I still have eyes and I can still admit it when I see a handsome man,” I heard her say, before she turned to me. Sure enough, she caught me just as I was looking at Namjoon, again, more appreciatively.

“What?” I looked at her with a frown when she seemed to be looking at me too closely. “Don’t look at me like that,” I whispered at her, but then I noticed the funny looking gleam in her eyes, as if she was seeing something intriguing while looking at me. And whatever she saw seemed to please her. “As a matter of fact, why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know, I just—” She shrugged. “I’m happy whenever you are happy, Taehyung.”

Narrowing my eyes on her, I studied her face, trying to understand just where this was leading to. My suspicion was answered when I saw a hint of guilt in her eyes in place of the curiosity and mischief that she had earlier. “You’re still thinking about my stupid confession, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not stupid. It never was and it never is.”

“It was childish.”

“There is nothing childish with love.”

I scoffed. “It would be when I was a 10-year-old thinking that I was falling in love with my best friend,” I told her, lowering my voice and making a sneer as I said this.

Many years ago, when I was only a 10-year-old boy trying to adjust to a new life in the big town and getting into a new school, I had jokingly asked her to be my girlfriend and she had told me no. But then we got even closer after we decided to be best friends and spent more time together, and I started to feel things. All fuzzy feelings that I had seen in the movies or TV shows as something that was called a crush, or perhaps love, where I would feel all tingly inside whenever she was near. So I asked her to be my girlfriend. Again. And then again. Having my request rejected each time because she only wanted to be my friend and she hated to think that she could lose her best friend if she should ever say yes.

That, and also because we were both kids who knew nothing about crushes and love and heartbreaks.

“Taehyung—”

Sighing dramatically, I placed a hand over my chest and acted like I was hurting and I told her, “It wasn’t your fault either that I got my heart broken so early in life. But I’ll never break my promise about staying with you as a friend and take care of you.”

My theatrics had her giggling, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I just hate that she would overthink things sometimes, even when she remembered that period in life. As if she was responsible for how I had turned out to be. It had taken her a little while to be able to cope with it. Not because she couldn’t accept me for who I was, but only because she had been terribly concerned about me after I had told her the truth.

“I know you won’t, and I promise to be in your life as your best friend for as long as you need me,” she told me, giving me a small smile which I returned with my own when I knew how true her words were. How she had proven it many times before, especially during the period of time I had needed her support the most.

I could easily recall how she had been by my side when I came out about my—’preferences’.

It all happened not too long before we graduated high school, and I was outed by force by someone who I had once grown close to, who I had trusted enough to confide in and let them know about my secrets. But then things fell south when it was clear that my ‘friend’ couldn’t stomach the idea that I was interested in both male and female, and that I had dated both all through high school. My best friend, ______, was the one who stood by me, to accept me for everything that I was and had fought together with me tooth and nail. She had opposed to the idea of me telling people about it openly, preferring that I would just stay silent until the rumours would fade so that the spotlight would not fall on me. But I could no longer hide who I was, and I had gained even more courage when Hoseok and his friends came to me with a promise to defend me if anyone would start messing with me the minute I came forward about it.

Both siblings had been my rocks, all solid and true, loyal to the core even when my own family had come close to disown me after I came to them with the truth.

Reaching over the table, she held my hands and gripped them tightly in hers. “And I’m glad you’re still here. And that you are willing enough to be so honest with me about you being—well, you. And that you are falling in love with Kim Namjoon.”

Pulling my hand from her, I rolled my eyes. “I’m not ’in love’ with him, it’s just—” I frowned, trying to figure out what I really felt. Aside from sharing a class, there was no secret that Namjoon had been terribly kind to me. He would come to talk to me after classes, and he had invited me for coffee a few times, though he had never made his intentions clear except that he wanted to get to know me better. I did feel something fuzzy in my belly when he talked to me, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything deep in what I felt for him aside from my admiration for an upperclassman and the fact that I enjoyed the attention he was giving me.

“—a crush, maybe. That’s all. And he’s nice to me.”

She raised her brows and gave me a knowing smile. “Oh, he’s ’nice’, hmm? Yeah, that’s always how it starts.”

I scoffed at her, knowing that it was also how her boyfriend managed to get under her skin. And, apparently, in a whole lot more as well, judging how crazy she was over him. But I was not about to talk about that prick. “Whatever, weirdo.”

After catching the sight of Namjoon walking out of the library with a wink at my way, we both fell into a long talk about things. We had been out of the loop with the party scene on campus, being all caught up in studying and all, but it didn’t stop us from hearing things through our classmates. Instead of comparing notes about our study session, we started comparing notes on the rumours that had been spreading around us. We were talking about her former flatmate who had begun dating a pre-med student, someone who was completely the opposite of the frat boys she had normally hung out and sometimes hooked up with, when I was reminded of something that I heard from one of her ex-flings.

“Oh, speaking about—” I lowered my voice and leaned closer, making sure that nobody would be able to listen in on us. “Have you heard the rumours that came from your boyfriend’s circle of friends?”

“What rumour?”

“A frat boy was caught kissing another dude. Nobody ever got to find out who he was or who the other boy was, since the witness only saw shadows kissing at the back of the frat house without seeing their faces. It happened in the middle of a party which they held so it could be anyone, and nobody has come clean about it yet.”

Judging by the way her lips were twitching downward, it was clear that she was not happy. And it was no doubt that she was pissed for the same reason that I was—that people were trying to prod into things that weren’t really their business. “But does it really matter who they were? They can’t exactly force someone to come out, right?”

I shrugged. “I guess not, but some people are curious, and you know about people on this campus, they all love to gossip.” Once again, her face pinched. Despite living in the flats off campus, she knew all too well about those lousy gossips. “I’m just thinking that if you or Jungkook ever find out—you guys won’t say a thing, right?”

She frowned at my request at first, but then her eyes softened. “Why would you be so worried about someone you barely know?” she asked me with the concerned tone that she always had when it came to me. “Besides, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Haven’t we both been keeping your secrets from everyone?”

“Well, yeah—that’s actually the only reason why I had to get along with him, remember?”

This time, my sneer drew a smile from her. “If he can understand your situation, wouldn’t he be more understanding when it comes to his friend?” she questioned me, though neither of us really had an answer to that question. Then, suddenly, as if she was seeing something on my face, she tilted her head and whispered, “You’re actually worried about them.”

Giving her a resigned sigh, I answered her with a nod. “I’ve been there, you know? Getting weird looks from people, girls having doubts about me actually being interested in them just because I’m also attracted to guys. I hate to imagine someone else going through something like I did. Especially if it’s someone from one of those houses, since most of them are famous for being around girls.” Looking down at my hands, I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about the things that I had been hearing. But I just couldn’t keep it to myself. “It’s just—some rumours said it was Min Yoongi with some junior TA in Music. He denied it, of course, so nobody knows.”

When I looked at her again, there was a concerned look in her eyes, something that was becoming more familiar in the years I had known her. “Do you know why I always get so worried about you?”

I had a feeling that I might know the answer to that. But I asked her anyway. “Why?”

“Because you have always had such a big heart. It might take a while for you to open up to other people, but the moment you let someone into your life, you always care for them a lot. Maybe too much. Hell, look at you worrying about some frat boy you barely know.” There was a fond smile on her face that I had no choice but to return with mine. I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying a thing and let her continue, and she took my hands in hers again. “I’m worried that someone might one day be using that kindness of yours and get you hurt. I’d really hate to see that.”

Little did she knew then, that I had been worried about the same thing for her. She had always been so fragile, so naive, and there was only one reason why I had never been able to get close to that boyfriend of hers. There was something about him that made it hard for me to trust him. Not with her heart. But I had kept it to myself, having no reason to actually point fingers. Yet. So I said nothing, and tried my best to reassure her that everything would be alright.

“I won’t worry about it, especially when I know you’ll have my back.”

She grinned. “You know I will.”

As we exchanged knowing gazes, I felt so sure that I would still have her by my side no matter what. Nothing could easily set us apart. Nothing could beat the years of friendship and trust that we had built.

At least, that was what I had truly believed.

But life had always been such a bitch. And nothing could stop it from derailing everything we had known and all that we had built together, leaving nothing behind but crumbles of dust.

—First life, year 2018—

My head was spinning. Worse yet, it felt like it was splitting in two.

Where was I? What the hell happened?”

I was pretty sure I blacked out. Or maybe I was in shock. It took a moment before everything began to clear up, though it didn’t actually make it okay when the pounding in my head stopped only to allow me to hear all the noises around me.

“Hey, buddy. Are you okay?” I felt someone gripping at my shoulder while I was stumbling out of the crowded room. I felt people’s eyes on me, but I ignored them all and turned to the person who was leading me out to a hallway right outside the room. That was when I turned and looked around, and everything sort of came back to me.

It was a frat party. I had heard that Sigma Phi was having this rave at their house and some people from my class had spotted Jungkook and his friends here. They had been sending me intel after I had spent the whole day searching for him after leaving ________’s flat.

After hearing how that bastard of a coward ran out of her place after finding out that she was pregnant.

And just like what my intel had informed me, he was hiding here with a fucking groupie who had been hanging out on Sigma to get lucky. Apparently, she lucked out to find that coward needing some distraction. But he wasn’t as lucky, as I found him easily, completely unguarded, and I managed to get a few hits to ruin his pretty face before he retaliated and knocked me on the head.

I flinched the moment I recalled the hit he gave me. It wasn’t hard, as he was pretty much drunk and my punches had probably left him disoriented, but he did put the blow at the right exact spot. And that spot was still pounding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I grunted at my saviour. My fuzzy memory remembered his voice as the one who had stopped our fight and kicked Jungkook out of the house, and he had probably saved me from further humiliation by pulling me out of the dance floor.

“You need some ice on that. Come on, let me get you some,” he said, pulling my attention back to him just as all the party crowd went back to what they were doing before the interruption. Back to partying like drunken monkeys.

I was going to say no to his offer and leave. But it was obvious that he was not taking any kind of refusal for an answer when he simply turned away from me, already leading me towards the kitchen area at the back.

“Hey, Yoongi. Good to see you back. How was your trip?” Some guy greeted him as we passed a group of people coming down from upstairs. The man turned to me once Yoongi greeted him back with a low grunt, obviously not a man of many words. Just like what the rumours had said about him. The man who greeted Yoongi turned to me and frowned. “Damn, what happened to you?”

I winced when I reached up to touch my face, no doubt already bruising badly if everyone could already see it. “It’s nothing,” I said, and I thought I could see a bit of pity mixing with concern on Yoongi’s face when he turned to look at me.

“One of the bastards from Kappa Sigma hit him,” Yoongi explained, answering him for me. There was no doubt that he had witnessed everything that happened as he was the one who pulled us apart right after that bastard had put his fist on me, but I was glad that he wasn’t about to bring it up. Though knowing Jungkook’s reputation, pretty sure the rumours would start spreading in the morning. And I was quite sure that Jungkook must have been on his way back to her already, probably spitting out lies to protect himself. I really hoped that he would be grovelling on the ground she was standing on before she would take him back in her arms. Just the thought of them reconciling made me feel like there was a cold fist closing in around my heart. I hated knowing why he was here, hated that I had seen him and caught him red-handed. I wished I had beaten him up even worse, enough to stop him from running back to her, just like how he deserved it.

Just like how cowards like him deserved it.

“Don’t worry, man. I’m taking him back so I could put some ice on it,” I heard Yoongi’s voice talking to the other guy, snapping me back to present, and it was clear that I had missed out half of their conversation about my lousy fate. Only then did I realise that one of the girls from the group he was with was standing next to me, looking at the bruise curiously.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, holding back from touching my bruise and started rubbing her hand up and down my arm instead.

I forced a smile and held back another wince when the small gesture was enough to hurt. “Nothing a piece of ice couldn't fix. Though I’m sure that my pride took a lot more bruises from that,” I tried to joke, raising my hand that was clutching at my glasses, which had been broken no thanks to Jungkook’s fist. “And my glasses, apparently.”

I heard a few of the people from the group chuckling at my joke, while the girl began shaking her head while giving me a smile. I had heard things about the boys from Sigma Phi and nothing about them had ever been bad. Words spread around campus kept telling me that these boys were more decent than the boys from Jungkook’s house. Damn, even their groupies were decent girls. Just like the girl who was by my side, as I recognised her easily as someone who had frequented the library to study just as often as I usually would.

Unlike all those players in Kappa Sigma house who would rotate the girls they hooked up with according to months, sometimes weeks. Not to mention their fan club, the girls who spent nearly all their college years doing nothing but partying and hooking up with the popular kids on campus.

Why couldn’t she find someone from this house to fall for and date instead?

“Fuck, that’s messed up. Alright then, I’ll leave you to Yoongi’s capable hands. Hey, if you need a ride to the hospital or something to have some fixing, give me a holler, alright?” the guy whose name I couldn’t even remember offered me just when I was about to follow Yoongi, and all I could do was nod.

“Thanks, man,” I muttered, not sure if he could hear me through the loud music, but the girl did give me another smile and a peck on my cheek before she followed him out the back.

“Here you go,” Yoongi said to me as we sat around the kitchen counter, handing me a bag of ice that he pulled out of a beer cooler.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the bag from him and pressed it on my templed, immediately wincing at the pain. “Ow, fuck.”

He snorted at my reaction, though it didn’t exactly erase the concerned look in his eyes. “Take it easy.”

Sighing, I nodded my head stiffly and kept the ice pressed onto my face. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, looking thoughtful for a second before speaking, “You’re her friend, aren’t you? Jungkook’s girl?”

My jaw twitched. “Yeah. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

He began shaking his head. “You know, even if I don’t know her that well. I wouldn’t have to be her childhood friend to lay one on Jungkook. I fucking hate cheaters,” he said, looking disgusted.

“Doesn’t seem like the others think the same way as you do.”

Yoongi looked down, releasing a sigh. “I really don’t understand these people. They’d rather cover up some fucker cheating behind their girls and do nothing to those who really need some real help.”

I wanted to say something about it, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t even his friend, anyway. So we only sat there in silence with the music from the party still banging in the background. He turned to grab a bottle of beer from the cooler, offering one to me, then we continued to sit there while drinking our beers in silence. The rumours that I had heard about him over the past year came back to me just as I looked at his resigned face, and the words were hanging right at the tip of my tongue. Though I wasn’t completely sure what I was going to say if I wanted to bring it up in our conversation.

Would it be proper for me to ask if those rumours were true? Only minutes after he helped me?

Just when I opened my mouth to try and speak, to talk about anything, just to break this awkwardness between us, he looked up over my shoulders and out the windows overlooking the front yard as something coming in front of the house caught his attention.

“Hey, you need a ride back or something? I’m heading out, so—”

I began considering it, not exactly sure if I was ready to part ways yet. But again, we were not friends. Just because he had saved me from being humiliated in the middle of a party and by giving me some ice, didn’t mean we became instant best friends either. “Uh, no. But thanks. I’ll find my own ride somehow.”

He nodded. “Right. Take care then.”

“You too.”

I watched him leave the room. My eyes couldn’t look away from his retreating back as he ran out of the house and off to the sidewalk, riding a black SUV that didn’t exactly fit the scene on campus. There was something inside me that kept nagging me about letting him go without saying a thing or asking for his number, but I was too tired, too sore, and completely pissed at how this night had turned out to care about making friends.

Tossing the bag of ice into the sink, I walked out of the house through the side porch where he had exited the house from earlier and pulled out my phone. My heart was beating like crazy when I dialled his number, but that immediately passed when I heard his voice from the other side of the phone call.

“Hello?”

I bit my lips. Something inside my gut was telling me that I might be doing something stupid. But right now, I really had nobody else to turn to. “Namjoon, hi. It’s me, Taehyung. I’m sorry for bothering you so late, but I think I’m going to need a ride home.”

“There’s nothing for you to apologise for. You know that I’m always here for you. I’ll be there in ten. Wait for me.”

—First life, year 2020—

How did it come to this?

Standing at the back of the seated guests while wearing a tight monkey suit, I looked around with a mixed feeling in my chest. I had thought that I wouldn’t feel much about being here, but there was a feeling of disdain as I stood there, taking in all these guests. For a wedding ceremony, there were not a lot of people who came in. Just close relatives and friends, perhaps. But even as I looked over to see her parents sitting close to my mine, reminding me how our lives had been connected for as long as we knew each other, I still felt like a complete stranger.

I had no idea how she managed to find me. After I left college early to join Namjoon’s charity mission, I never had any contact with her. The only people I had kept in touch with had been my parents, sometimes Hoseok, but I had convinced them not to tell her where I was as I moved around with Namjoon and his crew.

So when I came home to the lodge where Namjoon and I had been staying in during our trip to find him handing me the invitation, needless to say, I was completely floored. There was no reason for me to be here. I guess the only reason why I had flown across the world was only to make sure that this was really happening and not her playing a sick joke on me.

Everything around me had shown me that this was real. That she was actually getting married. And right there, standing at the end of the aisle was the man himself.

Jeon fucking Jungkook.

He was talking with his brother when I looked over at him. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he suddenly turned to see me. His eyes hardened when he recognised me, but he only nodded at me instead of looking at me with hostility before returning to his chat.

I looked away just as my Dad left his seat and walked towards me. Giving me a pat on my shoulder, he whispered to me, “Glad to see you make it here, Son.”

We chatted for a bit with him telling me that he was finally able to convince _______’s Dad to walk her down the aisle, and he left just as both her parents and mine moved towards the bride side of the seats in the front. While they were moving, stealing everyone’s attention, I slipped away towards the rooms hidden on the other side of the Wedding Hall to find the bride’s room.

It didn’t take much convincing on the bridesmaids standing guard at her door to let me in so I could see her, though it was clear to me that she had not been expecting to see me dropping by right before she was about to exchange vows.

“You came,” she said, completely stunned to see me standing there. Neither of us made a move to come closer or hug each other the way we used to, as I stood closer to the door with my hands tucked inside my pockets and her trembling hands clutching on her flower bouquet. I noticed her favourite flowers, white roses and daisies, looking just as bright and glorious as her white wedding dress looked.

When I looked at her again, there was sadness in her gaze, and a bit of hope. But I knew I crushed the latter when I said, “I only came because I had too many questions. And I suppose I needed to be here just to see that this is actually going down.”

She gave me a grim smile. “As you can see, this is happening. I’m getting married,” she said, and her voice cracked for a second before she cleared her throat to hide it. “So—what questions do you have?”

She looked up at me expectantly and all the questions that had been circling inside my head since the moment I held the invitation she sent me in my hands became all jumbled together. The only thing that came right out of my mouth was—

“Why?”

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. So I simply continued, “Why, after everything that he had put you through, would you still marry him?”

Her eyes softened, though there was a hint of doubt in them when she spoke. “He’s been with me the entire time. He has helped me heal and helped me with the grief of losing our—” She stopped before she could even try to say the word ’baby,’ obvious that she had yet to get over the grief of losing her pregnancy. The fact that she had not only forgiven him for causing the event but also for getting back together with him had been the reason why I left a couple of years ago.

I had no idea that she was still having trouble with it and that she was still grieving, all because I was not here for her. And apparently, he had been the one to fill that empty spot that I left behind on my departure.

“Why so soon? You still have yet to finish college, have you?” From the little communication I had kept with Hoseok since the day I left, I had known that she had been having trouble catching up with classes. The accident and the treatments that she had to go through made her fall back almost a year, and catching up must have been hard when most of her friends had excelled and when she was still haunted with everything that had happened, all the things she had lost, and the fact that she had to face all the people who knew about it.

Shaking her head, she began to admit the troubles she had been facing on campus, before letting me know that Jungkook had been going through the opposite. In his effort to show her that he was able to change, Jungkook had spent the past few years throwing himself into his study, making it possible for him to finish college early and for him to take a position in a company that belonged to one of his father’s business partner before he would take his place in his own family business like his brother did.

“He promised to take care of me,” she said after while smiling softly.

“And you still believe in him?”

She looked straight into my eyes and said, “I do. And he hasn’t failed me since to give me a reason not to believe in him.” I still had my doubts despite the way she seemed so sure about it, yet I said nothing, knowing that she would never listen to me anyway. Even if she would, it would only be much too late. Releasing a deep sigh, she repeated the same words she had given me then, “It’s not like it was an easy decision to make either, but—everyone deserves a second chance, Taehyung.”

’Not everyone,’ I wanted so badly to tell her, but I kept them to myself. Only because there was nothing good that could come out of it if I had said something to stop her. And judging by the looks of it, nothing could stop this from going on.

“And your parents? What did they have to say about this?”

“Obviously, neither my Dad nor Hoseok was happy about it,” she said dryly, and I remembered seeing her Dad fuming in his seat as he waited for the ceremony to begin, before my Dad seemed to be able to somehow change his mind. “But Mom had given me a chance to make the choice. Though I doubt that we’ll be invited home for the holidays as long as my Dad still refuses to give us his blessings. She could barely convince them to come. I think they only came today initially because she hasn’t been feeling well lately and both my Dad and my brother had been worried about letting her go out of the house on her own.”

I looked down and resisted the urge to shake my head. Now I understood why her parents had been sitting close to the exit, no doubt all because her Dad was so ready to walk out of the ceremony instead of staying to support her. And honestly, being away from her had yet to change what I had thought about Jungkook.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

The words that I gave her the last time we met came back to me. I still had no regrets ever voicing my thoughts and opinions about Jungkook, but I regretted that she was too stubborn to even consider taking her time before she would give him another chance and open her arms to welcome him back. And now, she was marrying him, completely tying the knot to make it last even longer. Perhaps forever.

“Taehyung?”

As I looked at her again, there was an expectation in her gaze that pulled at my heart. It was then when I realised that sending me the invitation was her act of lending me an olive branch. To give us another chance in friendship and have me back in her life again.

The same way she gave a chance to Jungkook.

But it was too late. Looking at things now, it was obvious that we were no longer walking on the same path. We had parted ways on a crossroad years ago, choosing different directions which had led us to who we were today.

Before she could say anything, I took a few steps closer to her and kissed her on the forehead. The move must have surprised her because she stiffened at my touch for a moment before relaxing against me, though I gave her no chance to dwell on it when I whispered,

“Be happy.”

Without looking back at her, I quickly left the room, leaving her behind with her own thoughts. Less than fifteen minutes later, I was right back where I was standing earlier, right at the far back in the Wedding Hall, witnessing her moody father walking her down the aisle to where Jungkook was waiting for her. Both of them shared big smiles on their faces as they were joined together at the altar, though her eyes showed sadness when she glanced back at the guests to find me, knowing that it would be the last time she would ever see me.

I stood there in silence as the ceremony continued. As they held hands, staring into each other’s eyes as they exchanged vows to be together until death would do them part. It was like adding salt to my wounds, but it was enough to make me see the reality of our relationship, that I had been replaced.

“He promised to take care of me.”

And there was really no need for me to stay, whether to prove myself wrong and watch him actually make her happy or to witness her regretting her decisions when he would hurt her again one day the way he had the last time she gave him her trust.

The moment I heard her say, “I do,” I didn’t stay long enough to wait for the ceremony to end and turned away, making my way out of the Wedding Hall and out of her life, where I was no longer needed.

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fairycosmos · 3 years ago

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hey, i have a sister who struggles with addiction. she moved out from our parents to my place when she turned 18, so that she could have some space and that her highs and lows wouldnt affect our younger siblings that much. but shes been going through a hard time for quite long now, which causes her to treat us around her like complete shit. her behaviour led into a pretty bad argument, which led to me driving her to our parents in the middle of the night cause i couldnt mentally or physically handle the shit she was giving me anymore. after that night, she never returned to mine and told our parents to pick her stuff and move it into a new apartment that she got for herself (which locates in the same building as her friends who she uses substances with). she hasnt reached out to me at all, even though we have been around each other and i cant bare to approach her either, cause im still upset and hurt. my mom said that shes already prepared to lose her. i heard from her friends that shes told them that if she goes unconscious, theyre not allowed to call the ambulance or try to help her. i am worried sick to my stomach everytime i think about her and i feel so powerless. my parents just say that theres nothing more we can do, she goes to psychotherapy and shes under the social services but still i feel like we should do something more to help her or to stop her from destroying herself. im so sorry if this message makes you feel uncomfortable, but since ive followed you for quite awhile and i know your experiences with these things, i would appreciate if you could help me with this situation or at least try to give me some advice, how to cope with these feelings that come from loving your sister that struggles. i dont want to lose her.

hey, i am so sorry to hear this. there's a lot i could say and a lot i want to say but can't really articulate. i don't think there's any one size fits all advice for such a complex and heartbreaking situation. i guess i'll begin with what i'm sure of, and that is that your boundaries and feelings are justified. addiction literally rewires your brain and perception of the world beyond recognition, to the point where the only thing the person cares about is their vice. it's just total tunnel vision, selfishness denial and violence on top of selfishness denial and violence. being around ppl like that, especially a loved one, is beyond exhausting, it's its own special kind of hell. like screaming at a brick wall. it's totally understandable that you had to take a step back after falling victim to her erratic, manipulative and abusive behaviour. the drug use explains it but it absolutely does not excuse it. you're really brave for putting your foot down and prioritizing your own mental stability when it all got to be too much. know you never have to regret that. having said that, it's possible for two conflicting feelings to coexist and for them both to be (for lack of a better word) valid. she's your sister - of course you're worried, of course you're terrified for her. of course you love her even while feeling like you hate her, at times. it's alright to let your emotions be illogical, to just weather the storm and let them pass through you. write it down, talk to your loved ones, maybe consider speaking to a therapist or hotline over it. it's perfectly normal to need that support and talking through your circumstances may be illuminating/lead to some personal revelations regarding how you want to approach this. ultimately, you're angry because you care. after a while i was like that too, with my sister. although i tried to let her know that i was more worried than frustrated during our conversations, sometimes i still couldn't help the internal rage. all because i wanted her to wake up to reality and for her to be okay - i didn't get her thought process at all, didn't get her version of the world. and i felt so fucking powerless because she just strayed so quickly from her path, despite what she was telling me, despite her being relatively fine mere months prior. despite us being best friends and on good terms. it's a headfuck, and you don't have to know what to do, you don't have to have anything figured out. just try to focus on what you need, today.

the hardest thing to accept is the fundamental truth of the situation, and that is that you can't fix this for her. can't love her out of it, can't enable her out of it, can't fight her out of it. all you can do is be there for her emotionally while still maintaining the appropriate boundaries necessary to preserve ur own mental wellbeing. it's completely okay if you need more time - i know you said you cant bear to reach out to her at the moment, which makes total sense. but since you sent this message and i can still see that you're beyond concerned and it's only getting worse, maybe you could consider calling her or sending her a text or meeting her for coffee when you're ready. just to let her know you haven't stopped thinking of her. and that you care about her so much, that when/if she's ready to get help you will be with her every step of the way. even if shes battling addiction for the rest of her life. if she screams at you, if she breaks down, if she ignores you for what you say - fine. but at least she'll know on some level that she is not alone, and at least you'll know you did what you could with what was in your control. also about her being under social services - is there any way you could get in touch with them, maybe explain that youre still worried about her and that you think she needs a higher level of care, maybe ask them if theres anything proactive you can do in collaboration with them to maximize the help shes getting? i dont know how it works where you are, that might be a no go, but i just thought i'd mention it. i'm sorry, i know it's a disappointing answer, but i really don't realistically think there's any other. there's only so much of this that is in your hands and so far it sounds like you've done and are doing everything possible to stay sane while looking out for her. i really really hope something clicks for her and that she starts to listen to you and her loved ones soon, that she begins to approach recovery out of the genuine need to get better. but it really does have to come from within her, all you can do is encourage it. im sending you both so much love. i know more than anyone how fucking stressful it is to have to wake up to this every day, and i'm so sorry. if you need someone to talk to, my inbox will always be open. you deserve peace in your own life, too. take care x

resource one

resource two

resource three

#tw addiction #tw drugs #anon #talking

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cherrycocaineee · 3 years ago

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3. Jeon Jungkook - First Meeting

A single earbud blasted music into my ear as I rode my bike back home after school. Despite trying to pedal fast and get home before the storm hit hard, I was slowed down by overcrowded pedestrians walking at snail speed on the sidewalk. All I could do to make it less frustrating was listen to my music. Softly humming to the beat of the song, I navigated cautiously through the sea of people. My back felt heavy with my school bag draped over it and I groaned at all the homework I’d have to do once I got home.

Eventually, small water droplets started dropping from the sky and hitting my exposed skin, and soaking my white shirt. Huffing, I pulled my bike over to the nearest place with outdoor seating and something covering my head. Which so happened to be a small coffee shop that I sometimes went to on my way home. I pushed my bike against the brick wall and sat down to wait for the rain to subside, and to pass the time a lot quicker, I decided to get a head start on some of my homework. History was the first one that I took out of my bag. A few minutes passed and the rain was only getting heavier, so I was kind of debating whether I should call a friend to pick me up. However, it wasn’t a good idea because I wouldn’t be able to bring my bike home at the same time. Suddenly, a hooded man ran underneath the coffee shop coverage. His clothes were damp from the rainfall, but he didn’t seem to care. Not wanting to seem like I staring creep, I looked back at my homework. But I couldn’t really help it. He was attractive. His skin was pale but had a sunkissed look to it, his lips were a peachy shade of pink, his jawline was sharp and could probably cut through anything if it were a knife, and his hair looked so soft and fluffy, as the deep brown darkened in the stormy weather. I had to force myself to not stare. I forced myself to do my homework, avoiding making any type of eye contact with the beautiful stranger stands a few feet away from me. “Excuse me.” His sweet, deep voice penetrated my one ear that wasn’t covered with an earbud. Looking up, I saw him standing in front of me, his phone in one hand and his other hand in his pocket. His smooth brown eyes were staring right at me. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his English choppy, “but my phone is dead and I was wondering if you could tell me what time it is?” I picked my phone up from on top of my history textbook and clicked the middle button, making the screen turn on. My wallpaper was a photo of my best friend, Ophelia, and I at the beach in Los Angeles last summer with her parents. Ophelia was wearing a two-piece swimsuit that was pumpkin orange, and it complimented her mocha skin tone. I was wearing a firetruck red two-piece that had white polka dots all over it. The two of us were standing in the bright blue ocean, hugging one another, as her older brother took the photo. I read the time on the lock screen and looked up at him. “It’s 3:40,” I answered, “almost four.” “Ah, thank you.” He turned around and went to sit at an empty table. I bit my bottom lip softly before speaking again. “If you’d like, you can use my phone charger and computer to charge your phone.” The stranger looked over at me and smiled while nodding his head. Then he was out of his seat and in the seat next to me in a split second. I removed my white iPhone charger and my laptop from my backpack and handed them to him. After hooking the charger to the computer, he hooked his charger to his phone and watched as it turned on. “I’m Jungkook,” he introduced. “I’m Avery,” I smiled, holding out my hand to shake his. His large, calloused hand wrapped around my small, soft one. After greeting one another, we started discussing some random things like the type of music we listened to, family, books we’ve read. I even learned that Jungkook wasn’t from America, which I kind of already figured from his accent, and learned that he was from South Korea. Jungkook even started teaching me some small Korean words. It was a lot of fun, and it passed the time a lot better than sitting here and doing boring school assignments. Jungkook turned to the coffee shop and pointed at it. “Is this place any good?” He questioned. “Yeah, they are,” I answered, “I come here pretty often.” “Do you want to get some coffee with me?” “Sure.” The two of us stood up and went inside the small coffee shop. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans, cinnamon, and vanilla filled my nose as we entered. The little chime of the bell above the door alerted the barista that he had some customers. I helped Jungkook read the menu before ordering. While we waited for the drinks to be made, we continued talking. “So you still go to school?” He asked. “Yeah, it’s my senior year,” I replied, “how about you?” He shook his head just as the barista placed our drinks on the counter. The two of us picked them up and headed back outside, continuing the conversation along the way. “I graduated in 2017.” “Oh, so two years ago.” He nodded his head. The rain was coming down hard. I was sipping on my cold brew while watching each drop hit the ground. There were few cars driving through the streets, but really most people stayed out during weather like this. The idea of the roads being too slick and causing an accident was enough to deter people from causing an accident. It was one of the few good things about living in Seattle. As I placed my coffee down, I shook my phone in front of Jungkook while smirking. “Wanna play some iPhone games?” I persuaded, “I bet I can beat ya.” A sneaky, mischief smile appeared on his face, “get ready to lose.” We exchanged numbers and started off by playing 8ball. Jungkook was extremely competitive and he was good too. Luckily for myself, I was competitive too. So for the next hour, we played as many imessage games trying to beat one another. We were tied and the last game we were playing was connect four. The game was hard to win considering neither one of us was stupid enough to let the other person connect four. This game lasted the longest out of all the ones we played. However, as the rain started to slow down, I finally ended up beating Jungkook. I giggled as Jungkook started pouting, crossing his arms, and puffed out his bottom lip. This action caused me to laugh even harder. He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes and began laughing too. Soon the rain stopped altogether, so it was time for me to head home. I packed up all of my things and grabbed my bike. “It was fun hanging out with you, Jungkook,” I giggled, “hopefully we’ll see each other again before you head back to South Korea.” Jungkook nodded, “I liked hanging out with you too, Avery. Since I have your number, I’ll give you a call so we can play some more games.” “Sounds like a plan!” I hopped on my bike and waved to him goodbye as I rode off towards my home. I walked through my front door calling out to my family that I was home. Mom, Dad, Austin, and Jenna were all sitting on the couch when I walked into the living room. Austin looked up at me. “What took you so long?” He asked. “It started raining,” I answered, plopping down next to Jenna, “so I waited for it to stop.” “Good, because the last thing your father and I need is you getting hurt,” mom said, smiling. They were watching Wipeout on the television and soon I was immersed in it as well. That is until my phone dinged and I looked down to see if the message was from Ophelia. It wasn’t, it was from Jungkook. He had sent me a photo of him with the message reading: Can’t wait to see you again. Use this photo for the icon above my number. I smiled and sent him a recent photo of me that Ophelia took telling him the same thing. I hadn’t noticed that Jenna was leaning over my shoulder reading my message until she screamed so loud I felt my eardrum almost burst. Quickly, I dropped my phone in my lap and covered my ear. Austin and I glared at her while our parents looked at her with questionable looks. Jenna picked my phone up. “Ave,” she started, “did you meet this guy today?” “Well yeah,” I said, “he got caught in the rain too, so we chatted a bit, got some coffee, and played some iPhone games while we waited. Why?” “You literally met my idol!” She squealed. “Idol?” “Yeah, those lame Korean boys that she has plastered all over her room,” Austin said, turning his attention back to his phone, “you know the one with seven members in it?” “BTS,” Jenna answered, “you met the youngest member of the group, Jeon Jungkook. You have to give me his number, Ave!” As quickly as she had picked up my phone, I snatched it away. “No way!” I snapped, “I can’t just give you his number, especially if he doesn’t even know who you are. What if he’s not cool with it, Jen?” I grabbed my backpack from next to my feet and went upstairs. I could hear Jenna pouting and crying to mom and dad about me not giving her the phone number. I closed the door behind me as I entered my room and sighed. That’s when my phone dinged again and I looked at it. It was a text from Jungkook. As I read the message, I felt my cheeks burn as they turned bright pink. I shot him a quick message to reply and then sat at my desk to finish up my homework. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about the last text Jungkook sent me and I knew I’d probably still be blushing by the time I went to bed. But I didn’t mind in the least.

#jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #jeon jungkook #army #jungkook fluff #fanfic #jjk #imagine #bts scenarios #bts fanfction

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prouvaireafterdark · 4 years ago

Text

Wrong Place, Right Time

For the @malexremix, I remixed @insidious-intent’s excellent frat bro Michael fic! Fair warning, though: it’s rule 63

Also on AO3!

***

Fuck this fucking planet, Guerin thinks as she shivers in the icy December chill, leaning heavily against the cold metal of the bus stop shelter. The minutes drag by slow as molasses as she waits for the shuttle that was supposed to take her home almost half an hour ago.

Ugh. This is the goddamn last time she tries to do the responsible thing and doesn’t take her truck when she’s heading to the bar. Now, with her patience and her alcohol blanket wearing thin, she’s never been more disappointed that her alien powers don’t include flight or teleportation.

With a beleaguered sigh, she takes her phone out of her pocket and pulls up the bus schedule. The tips of her fingers grow numb with the cold as she waits for the piece of shit app to load, and when it finally does she’s met with a red banner that reads, Late night buses cancelled due to icy conditions.

“God fucking damn it,” she groans, throwing her head backward in frustration so forcefully that her skull smacks against the hard metal bus shelter. “Ow, fuck,” she winces, the pain flaring up instantly. She reaches up to rub the tender spot with her cold fingertips, wishing she had a bottle of acetone at her disposal.

It’s the thought of acetone that reminds her of Isobel and, more importantly, Isobel’s car, which is undoubtedly sitting in the lot outside her sorority house not too far from here. She’ll mock her mercilessly for it, but she probably won’t say no to letting Guerin borrow it if she promises to buy her bubble tea when she brings it back.

Without a better idea, Guerin pushes off the bus shelter and starts walking, head downcast as her numb fingers type out a text to Isobel.

She heads a few blocks down Sorority Row, eyes scanning the houses for those familiar Greek letters. When she finally spots them, she recognizes Isobel’s handiwork immediately in the tasteful Christmas decorations adorning the house’s brightly lit facade. Garlands encircle the tall white columns that line the porch and each and every window is framed with pale yellow lights, a festive wreath in its center.

She also notices, much to her chagrin, that there appears to be some kind of party going on inside. Muffled music seeps through the walls and she can see people mingling inside through the large windows in the front of the house.

Guerin checks her phone one last time, but Isobel’s read receipts tell her she hasn’t even seen the message yet. Looks like she’s going to have to go inside and find her.

She looks down at her jeans and fleece-lined jacket, both threadbare and thrifted, and briefly considers some light carjacking, but in the end, she decides against it—as annoyed as Isobel will be with her for showing up to a party at her sorority dressed like this, it’ll be much worse if she wakes up to find her car missing.

Sighing deeply, Guerin turns down the red brick path to the porch and makes her way to the front door.

One fist is poised to knock, the other buried deep in the pocket of her jacket, when an unexpected voice comes from her left.

“You lost?” the voice says.

Guerin’s curls whip through the air as she turns to see Alex Manes, the very talented, very hot musician who sometimes plays at the undergrad cafe Guerin works at on the weekend, sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. How she missed her sitting there is anyone’s guess, but now that she has the opportunity to look at her she isn’t going to waste it.

In the glow of the Christmas lights, she can see Alex is wearing heavy black combat boots and the tightest skinny jeans she’s ever seen with a thick knit maroon cardigan drawn closed across her chest. Her dark eyes are lined in black, as always, and in her lap is a battered moleskin notebook with a pencil caught between its pages.

“Nope,” Guerin answers, smiling as she turns more fully in Alex’s direction and takes a step closer. “I’m looking for Isobel.”

“Really?” Alex asks, head cocked to the side in confusion. “Why?”

It’s a fair question, Guerin supposes. Isobel doesn’t exactly broadcast that their campus’ resident bisexual stoner is also kind of her sister.

“The buses stopped running apparently so I need to borrow her car,” Guerin explains.

Alex barks a laugh, a bright sound that makes the pit of Guerin’s stomach warm in spite of her. “Good luck with that.”

Guerin smiles good naturedly, but doesn’t head back to the door just yet. As cold as it is, she’d rather see if she can make Alex laugh again.

“I’m Guerin, by the way,” she introduces herself as she sits down in one of the rocking chairs next to her.

“Alex,” she says unnecessarily. “And I know who you are,” she continues, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile. “You work at Bean Me Up, right?”

“I do,” Guerin says, face brightening. They smile at each other for a moment, neither one really sure where to pick up the thread of conversation before Guerin asks, “So, what are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Oh, uh, wine mixers aren’t really my thing,” Alex answers, gesturing over her shoulder to the party inside.

“A sorority girl who doesn’t want to party?” Guerin asks, equal parts amused and confused. “I think you maybe joined the wrong crowd.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Alex sighs.

That brings Guerin up short. Sure, she’d been surprised to hear that Alex was in Isobel’s sorority—her emo aesthetic doesn’t exactly match the sorority girl stereotype that lives in Guerin’s brain—but she figured she at least enjoyed being a part of it.

“Do you really not like it here?” she asks.

Alex shrugs noncommittally.

Guerin frowns. “Why not leave then?”

Alex is quiet so long Guerin wonders if she’s crossed a line, but eventually she gets an answer.

“My mom’s a legacy and kind of an asshole, so,” she says, as if that explains everything, and then adds, “If joining Greek Life is what it takes for her to keep paying my tuition, I guess this is where I’ll be.”

That is something Guerin can understand. If her scholarship relied on participation in Greek Life, she sure as hell would’ve pledged too.

“Mm, gotcha,” she says with an understanding nod. “That sucks, though. I mean, we’re in college, right? Isn’t now the time we’re supposed to spend doing whatever we want?”

Alex raises her glass—a pink solo cup that’s been resting on the small table next to her—in agreement.

Silence stretches between them for a long few seconds. She should probably head inside to find Isobel now, but Alex is beautiful and talking to her and she just can’t quite bring herself to walk away.

“So, are you working on a new song?” she asks eventually, looking down at the notebook in Alex’s lap.

“Trying to,” Alex admits, her cheeks flushing just a little.

“What’s it about?”

Alex bites her lip for a second before she answers.

They talk about the song, and music in general, for so long that Guerin forgets about Isobel entirely. It isn’t until Alex brings her up that she remembers.

“Oh, shit, don’t you need to find Isobel?” Alex asks, breaking off in the middle of her story about the My Chemical Romance concert she went to when she was thirteen.

“It can wait,” Guerin shrugs.

“In that case, you want a drink or something?” she offers, looking over her shoulder and through the window into the house.

Guerin thinks about it before she answers, “Wine mixers aren’t really my thing either, but I wouldn’t say no if you’ve got something stronger.”

Alex gives her a considering look before she says, “Alright then,” getting up from her chair. “Follow me.”

As she heads for the front door, Guerin follows close behind.

She’s a little surprised to be led straight up the stairs to Alex’s bedroom, but she isn’t about to complain about it.

“You can take your jacket off and sit on my bed if you want,” Alex says as she lets her inside.

Guerin unzips her jacket and lays it over the back of the chair by Alex’s desk before she kicks off her boots and climbs onto her bed. She sits with her back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles as she watches Alex rifle through the top drawer of her nightstand.

She comes back a minute later holding a clear plastic baggie with a rolled joint and a shitty bic lighter inside. She tosses it on the bed beside Guerin’s thigh.

Guerin has it out of the bag before Alex can get her boots off and climb onto the bed, but she waits until she’s sitting next to her, too close to be an accident, to light it.

With one end between Alex’s lips, Guerin lights the other. She watches Alex take a long drag off the joint, watches the smoke curl around her mouth as she exhales. Her lips look so soft and pink and—Jesus fucking Christ, Guerin has never wanted to kiss someone so badly in her life.

It must show on her face because after a calculating look Alex takes another drag and holds the smoke in her lungs as she leans in close enough to kiss her. Guerin gets the picture and follows suit, her eyes slipping closed, lips parted and waiting.

She inhales as Alex gently blows the smoke into her open mouth, their lips touching for a brief and charged moment. She holds it in her lungs for a minute before releasing it into the air between them. When her eyes flutter open, she’s as pleased as she is unsurprised to see Alex staring blatantly at her mouth.

Without letting her eyes drift, Guerin takes the joint from Alex’s fingers and brings it to her mouth, sucking the smoke into her lungs once more. When she leans in to return the favor, she can’t resist flicking out her tongue to taste her bottom lip.

Alex moans softly against her mouth, the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, and the next thing she knows Alex is climbing in her lap.

Guerin lets out a shuddering breath against her mouth, the warmth of Alex’s thighs around her waist as intoxicating as the smoke burning her lungs and the lust rushing through her veins. It’s by a stroke of luck more than anything else that she doesn’t drop the joint onto Alex’s comforter and set her fucking bed on fire in her haste to get her hands on her hips.

Gentle fingers reach for Guerin’s hand then, taking the joint back from between her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Guerin asks against her lips as Alex settles her weight on top of her.

She feels it when Alex smiles against her mouth.

“Whatever I want,” she answers cheekily.

“Fair enough,” Guerin smiles back, and as she leans in to press their lips together for real this time, she can’t help but think that maybe leaving her truck at home wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever had after all.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #rnm fic #malex remix #ahhhhhhhh #idk what this is but i hope you guys like it lol

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kim-ruzek · 3 years ago

Text

sometimes you just don't know the answer

Summary: But typical Kim, typical naive, always believing the best in people Kim, thought that even though Adam and her have been out of sync, even though any time any serious conversations comes up it seems like Adam doesn’t listen or pay attention, even though things haven’t been exactly good, Kim thought they both had the same end goal. To be married, happy, in a strong relationship.

Evidently, she was wrong.

Set in S3, fix it bc it circumvents the breakup.

Warnings: Bob Ruzek's A+ parenting, alluding to sexist thoughts, swearing

Word Count: 4k

Read on AO3

Notes: So. A few days ago Lexi ( @adamruz ) answered an ask and said her hc about Adam is that he never actually told Bob about the dinner with her mom and well.... My mind ran with it. And thus this was born.

I hope y'all enjoy (especially you Lexi ♥️)

“Coffee?” Kim looks over at Officer Samuel Innings, her assigned partner for her overtime shift. It’s the first time on the whole shift that Kim is glad, not irritated, at the sight of him—although it’s more to do with the coffee cup he’s holding out for her than him.

“Thanks.” She gives him a smile—he may be one of my most irritating people she’s ever met, but she’s still polite, especially when there’s coffee involved. Innings only needed to go into the shop because he needed the toilet—or, ‘needed to take a whiz’, as he so elegantly put ten minutes earlier—she didn’t expect that he’d pick her up a coffee. From what she had seen from the hours she’s already been on this shift, he’s annoying and she had thought not very considerate.

“It’s two sugars, no cream, right?” Innings double checked.

It’s not, but coffee is coffee so Kim smiles gratefully at him, nodding, before taking a sip, feeling better already knowing that coffee will be soon coursing through her body.

“Do you think we’re gonna get a call?” He only gives Kim a few seconds peace of silence before he speaks again and she has to resist so hard to not roll her eyes. Innings is young, green, and maybe his eagerness could be seen as admirable if it wasn’t so grating. He has no restraint, nattering on and bothering her, and offering his unsolicited complaints about what members of public they’ve dealt with in this shift.

He’s not the kind of partner she’d like on her regular shift, but even more on this graveyard shift, when she’s tired, when she’s already in a mood, when all she wants is just peace and quiet.

He almost makes her wish she had taken Sean up on his offer to join her on this shift. Kim had turned him down, stating she didn’t want to take away his day off just because she’s giving it up—and of course, that was a reason for it, but it wasn’t the only reason.

She just wanted silence, monotony, and she wouldn’t get that with Sean. Her mind is clouded, and he—as well intended as Kim’s sure he is—would only make it worse. But she hadn’t anticipated Innings, and is debating if the devil she knows would’ve been better than the devil she doesn’t.

“You never know.” She says in answer to his question. Her voice is dry, plain, monotone, not having it in her to bring any fake interest or life into it, even if she’s making sure she’s still being polite. Officers talk, and she doesn’t want to be known as a bitch who was in a mood—even if she’s very much feeling that way.

“I hope we do. But nothing like that last call, breaking up drunken sluts is no fun. Like they’re so dramatic, just go home with whatever man you picked up and fuck him and leave us out of it.” Kim screws up her nose at his words, taking another sip of her coffee to hide her disgust at his attitude, making a mental note to tell Trudy about it.

Not that she might necessary be able to do anything about it; Kim’s been outsourced to a beat in another district, Innings not working at hers. Trudy’s wrath would come down like a wall of bricks on any officer in the twenty-first that she gets a whiff of this kind of attitude, but Innings reports to a different desk Sargent.

Although, Trudy Platt is a formidable woman, and Kim knows that she’ll take this up with the other desk Sargent, and god help him if he doesn’t at least hear Platt out.

Even when Kim was new at the twenty-first, she was glad that she had Platt as a desk sergeant, admiring her no nonsense personality. She’s exactly the kind of Sargent cops need, and as Kim listens to Innings prattle on, it makes her wonder whatever possessed her to sign up for this overtime, to willingly seek work—willing seek to interact with officers who aren’t Trudy’s—outside her district.

Of course, Kim does know what possessed her. When seeking this, she had told everyone—well, Platt, Adam and Roman—that she wanted the overtime money, for the expenses in her near future. It’s believable, and it won’t hurt to have the money, of course.

Even though Kim has her doubts whether or not she’ll actually need it—those expenses will only happen if they can actually set a date for their wedding and pick out a place to live. And as more time goes on, the less convinced she becomes that it’ll actually happen.

Which, really, is why she chose to work on her day off.

Everything in her life, her feelings, her relationship, Adam, it’s all very confusing in her head currently and the thought of sitting at home, doing nothing but letting it continue to fester, was an unbearable one.

Kim can’t help but feel guilty, though. It’s also Adam’s day off, and since Intelligence has been thigh deep in a case recently, they haven’t spent much time together and the time they have, all they’ve done is fight—if they’ve even done much talking. It’s usually silent, even when they’re curled up on the couch together, the silence permeates through the air, making it feel like they’re worlds apart.

But she also knows it being Adam’s day off makes this a good decision even more. There’s some serious questions that Kim’s having to ponder upon, and she fears that if they were alone, no work or distractions, they might truly fight. Most of their fights end before they begin—verbally, at least—them exchanging a few heated words before they let their deafening silence say all the things they don’t.

But if they were alone, Kim fears that things might come to blows. And as much as she’s questioning her relationship with Adam, questioning his commitment to them, to her, to their future, she really doesn’t want that to happen. She doesn’t want to call quits on their relationship. And she knows how dangerously close they are to that happening; all it’ll take is one wrong thing to occur.

Like her, accidentally, in anger, yelling her half formed thoughts, her ineloquently put feelings about all what is annoying her.

They need the space, that’s what she tells herself. In a few days, Adam—and Bob Ruzek—will be meeting her mother, and while that won’t fix things, or makes her think they’ll set a date—even if that’s what Roman assumes she thinks—but it’ll be a hurdle they’ve gotten over, which means there’ll be one less hurdle in their way.

One hurdle closer to getting their relationship back in sync, to return to how they were, to being married and happy, even if it feels like they’ll never get there in this moment.

“Burgess? Burgess?” Kim is pulled out her thoughts by Innings, him lightly prodding at her. She’s alert straight away, going to her radio, assuming she had missed a call.

She hasn’t, as Innings quickly explains. He had just been talking to her and she had zoned out. He did, at least, apologize for alarming her.

“Sorry, my mind was somewhere else. What was you saying?” Kim really couldn’t care less what he was saying, but the politeness in her overrides.

“Your ring. I was asking if you’re engaged.” Innings indicates to her ring, and Kim smiles down at it for a couple seconds, reliving the happiness she felt when Adam first gave it to her months ago in her memories.

“Yeah, I am.” There’s a slight giddy feeling in her stomach, like butterflies flapping their wings, at the thought of Adam—her fiancé—and it’s the feeling that is what keeps her wanting to wait out this storm—even if she runs away like this on their days off—because surely, if she still feels like that, even if it’s lessened, if it’s hiding more from her, then the relationship is worth fighting for.

“What does he do?” Innings then asks.

“He’s a cop too. A patrol officer assigned to Intelligence.” Kim answers, while thinking that the pride that still swells in her heart as she talks about him is another reason to keep fighting. And suddenly, the guilt over leaving Adam alone on their day off surges and all she wants to do is go to him, to cuddle up and kiss him all over his face in apology—even if he didn’t know she needs to.

“Wow. Snagged yourself a good man, there.” Innings says and she’s annoyed at the words he used, at his tone, how Kim gets the impression that he’s more impressed with Adam’s achievements than he would be hers, but she repeats his words in her mind, because she has, and she wonders if her forgetting that might be the reason for their problems.

Luckily, they get some calls after that, and Kim doesn’t have to deal with just how much Innings irritates her—although his attitude towards the public really rubs her up wrong.

“Kim? I didn’t know you worked nights.” It’s a few hours later, and they’ve stopped into a twenty-four hour diner to get some coffee and a bite to eat and right as Kim gets served, she runs into Bob Ruzek, her future father in law.

As if her night couldn’t get any worse.

Adam’s father is not one of her favourite people, to say the least. She’s accepted that he’ll have to be a part of her life, of her children’s, and that Adam loves his dad but unexpectedly running into him is not something she’s very happy about.

“Bob, hi,” That politeness overrides again, and she greets her future father in law with a smile. For Adam, she reminds herself. He’s Adam’s dad, and Adam’s going to have to deal with the neuroticism that is her mother soon, so she can deal.

“I don’t usually, I’m putting in some overtime. The wedding won’t pay for itself,” Kim answers him, cracking a light smile, laughing slightly.

They chat for a few minutes, nothing too deep or substantial. Kim always wanted to have a good relationship with her in-laws growing up, but she’s glad that Bob seemingly doesn’t want to spend much time getting to know her like she feels towards him. From the corner of her eye, she sees Innings looking at her, and them, clearly trying to work out how they know each other.

“Right, I should be off.” Kim tells him as her food is handed over to her.

“Yeah. Tell Adam I said hi.” Bob nods and she forces a smile, hoping it doesn’t seem strained.

“Will do. Bye—until this Saturday, of course.” She says, referencing their arranged meal. Bob frowns, looking confused.

“What’s this Saturday?”

“The meal with my mom?” Kim prompts him, but Bob’s face is looking blank. Annoyance bubbles up in her, at him forgetting but then dots connect and she realises that Bob isn’t being the worst father in law right now—that he hasn’t forgotten, he just hasn’t been told.

Adam didn’t tell his dad.

Adam lied to her that he did.

“Never mind,” Kim waves him off, casually, even though her world is crumbling around her. They had discussions about how important this dinner is, how it’ll be unpleasant but they need it, and Adam had looked her in the eye and said his dad was on-board.

And he hadn’t even bothered to ask him, to tell him.

Roman had been saying from the start that Adam is just in this for the fun things, not the commitment, not the gruelling stuff. Her partner means well—even if sometimes it feels like he’s being contrary just for the sake of it—and Kim always listens to him because, well, because he’s her partner, but even when Adam failed that push test Roman recommended, she didn’t put much stock in what Roman had been saying.

She really should’ve.

But typical Kim, typical naive, always believing the best in people Kim, thought that even though Adam and her have been out of sync, even though any time any serious conversations comes up it seems like Adam doesn’t listen or pay attention, even though things haven’t been exactly good, Kim thought they both had the same end goal. To be married, happy, in a strong relationship.

Evidently, she was wrong.

Even though Adam has been letting her talk about this dinner. Even though he knows how nervous she is for him to meet her mom. Even though he knew all this, he still looked her in the eye and he lied to her.

Had told her he talked to his dad. Had told her Bob agreed. Had told her all this, had told her that he understood how important this was to her.

He had held her in their—his, because they still haven’t found a place that is theirs—bed and told her this all while knowing he was lying.

Kim spends the rest of her shift in a daze, trying to wrap her mind around this. Trying to process that everything Roman said was right, that Adam isn’t serious, that he doesn’t want to be married, that he doesn’t want to be on the hook.

That Adam’s just prolonging and putting off the wedding, doing everything he can too, because he doesn’t want to marry her.

Even though he was the one who proposed.

Kim’s mind wasn’t even thinking about marriage, before he proposed. Yes, the thought that she would like to—one day—marry him had propped up, of course it had. Adam is sweet, loving. He made her laugh, smile and comforted her when she had nightmares. And he was vulnerable around her, not afraid to show his softness... Of course thinking about making that man her husband had crossed her mind.

But as a serious thought, as a thought to happen at this time... That wasn’t even near close to being a thought in her head into she saw that ring.

Why would he do that, why would he introduce marriage into the equation, if it wasn’t serious about marrying her, about making her his wife and building a life with her?

It’s the morning when Kim’s shift finishes, and Adam’s still slumbering away in their—his—bed when she comes home. Normally, she’d concentrate on how cute, how peaceful he looks when he sleeps but she feels sick at the sight of him, all these thoughts and questions flooding her mind.

There’s room in the bed for her to climb into, but she can’t—she just can’t. Not when she’s just learnt this. She can’t lay her head next to his with betrayal sits in her heart, burning like a fierce woodland fire.

She grabs some spare blankets and pillows and sets up something on the sofa. She knows that when Adam wakes up, and sees her there, he’ll know something is up, something is wrong but Kim can’t find it in herself to care—not even with the knowledge that she had told Adam that she was sleeping for, hopefully, twelve hours today, so he’d know he wouldn’t get an answer to why she was on the sofa for hours.

When Kim comes too, it’s not the uncomfortable sofa lying under her back, but the nice comfortableness of Adam’s bed. She frowns slightly, as she sits up, confused to as she got here. She wonders, briefly, if she had imagined falling asleep on the couch before her mind wakes up properly and she realises that Adam must’ve carried her in here.

A sweet gesture like that would usually dampen the angry fire burning away in her heart but it doesn’t now; she’s too angry for it to. In fact, Kim thinks, it spurs on the fire, adding kindling to the flames, because how dare he move her? How dare he act as if he cares for her, as he clearly doesn’t, if he can look her in the eye and lie to her.

It’s not long before Kim’s heading out the bedroom, going to the living room. Sounds of Adam’s video games rings out and a darkness grips her heart as she wonders if the gesture wasn’t even that sweet, if it’s just because he needed the sofa to play his stupid games.

The gesture did nothing to melt her heart, but the thought of Adam not being motivated with kindness makes it more stony.

Kim is glad she doesn’t enter the room, guns blazing, as when she does, she sees that Adam is not alone, that Kevin is over, playing with him. She normally loves seeing the two most important men in her life hanging out, the sight always making her heart twist, but just like when she woke up in bed, in does nothing for her now.

“Hey, darlin’,” Adam spots her first, glancing briefly away from the TV to give her a smile. Kevin is then greeting her and she wishes she wasn’t so angry that she could even think about greeting Kevin back.

“You’ve been asleep for ages—I’m sorry about taking up all the bed. I assume that’s why you were on the sofa?” Adam continues talking, his eyes still looking at the TV as he does so, having not realised that something is up.

“Adam, stop the game.” Kim’s voice is devoid of it’s usual warmth.

“I will in a sec. Sorry, darlin’, I’m just so close to beating Kev,” Adam still doesn’t realise.

“The game’s not over yet, Ruzek.” Kevin apparently hasn’t either.

“Adam.” The word is chilled. “Turn it off. We need to talk, now. Kev, please, if you could leave.”

The game is paused then, the two turning to look at her. It’s almost comical how identical their oh fuck expressions are, and if Kim wasn’t so angry, so betrayed, so confused, she might’ve laughed at it.

Kevin moves first, quickly scrambling to get his stuff together, clearly seeing she means business. “Yeah, I should get home before Vinessa and Jordan do and wants dinner. Uh, nice seeing you. Bye.”

Kevin is not someone anyone messes with, even Adam having a moment of being spooked by him and the damage he could do to a person. But he looks like nothing more than a timid schoolboy now, as he hurries on out.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Adam asks as soon as Kevin shuts the door, having turned off the TV. He rises and he goes to come near here, his arms out, looking concerned. But she steps back, not wanting him anywhere near her.

“Why didn’t you tell your dad about the dinner?” She cuts straight to the point. Kim can see the moment, the oh shit moment, that Adam gets what she’s on about, but he plays dumb because apparently he wants to anger her more.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. On my shift, I ran into your dad and I mentioned Saturday—only he had no idea what I was on about. So yeah, Adam, I know you know what I mean.” Really, Kim is surprised how even she manages to keep her voice.

“I..uh.. I...” He flounders and Kim’s anger rises.

“It’s a simple question! You had a reason for not telling him, so tell me it.” when continues to flounder, Kim snaps. “Or don’t. It’s okay. I know why—you don’t want to marry me.”

“I—what?” Adam stares at her.

“I knew this was coming, I guess. But just answer me this—why lie? You do realise I’m going to have to tell my mother this? My mother! And she might not be your mother in law, now, but she’s still my mother and god, I thought you’d care enough about me to at least not create another thing for her to hold over me. And what was your end goal, tell me that? What was you going to do, on Saturday, when you needed to explain why Bob wasn’t coming?” Kim rants at him, letting all her hurt and betrayal out.

“I, uh. I was going to say that he cancelled, for overtime?” Adam looks sheepish, his expression showing he knows he fucked up.

“So, let me recap. Instead of just saying you don’t want to marry me you: lied, ensured you’d break my heart, make me think your dad prioritised overtime over his son and his son’s fiancée and what? Was you going to ditch my mom and I, as well?” Kim had thought her last boyfriend had told her the most outlandish lie ever, that she had left those days behind her.

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t very well thought out. But, baby, I promise you, it wasn’t because I don’t want to marry you. I love you, I want to marry you. With all my heart, darlin’, I swear.” She has to admit, with his earnest he sounds, how genuinely distraught he looks, Kim almost believes him.

“If that’s true, then why? Why would you ever lie about this? What do you have to gain from it?!” She asks, desperation and confusion clawing at her voice. Adam runs a hand through his hair, and it takes a few seconds, with a lot of hesitation, but then he’s speaking, explaining himself.

“Because! Because I was scared. Scared that if you really got to know Bob Ruzek, and saw how rude he no doubt would be to your mom, that you’d realise what kind of man he is? That he’s a screw up and not a particularly good man—or dad, honestly—and that... I was scared that you’d see who he really is, and think I’m the same. That you’d jump ship before you got yourself locked in with the junior Ruzek screw-up.” Adam started off loud, desperate, but ends so quiet, so sad it immediately puts out the flames in her heart, and her heart twists and all what she was feeling fades away, her love coming back tenfold and she questions why she ever doubted him.

“Adam. I already know that. Do you really think I like your father? I’ll deal, because he’s your pops, but I know who he really is.” Adam’s head jerks up at her words, a look Kim has never seen on his face before appearing and she realises that he hasn’t quite understood.

“But Adam, Adam look at me,” Kim moves towards him now, gently resting her hands on either side of his jaw, making him look at her. “And I know who you are. I know you’re not your father, because you are not a screw-up. You are a good man. Today? My partner asked about my fiancé, and I was so filled with pride at even the thought of you because I know exactly who you are.”

Kim knows she’s going to have to spend time questioning why she didn’t think to hear Adam out first, she knows it as she says this and realises the answers to all the questions she’s been having lately doesn’t lie in her head, or in the mouth of others like Roman, or even in Adam’s actions that initially confuses her, when she doesn’t give him a chance to explain; the answers aren’t anywhere but in her own heart.

Because she knows Adam Ruzek, her fiancé. And he is a good man, a man who loves her, who would never hurt her. A man who loves her so much that after just a year wanted to make her his wife.

A man who’s not perfect, who’s flawed and human—just like she, and everyone else is. And that means his behaviour will hurt and be confusing, but that doesn’t negate what she knows is in his heart.

“Kim, darlin’. If that’s true, then why would you think I don’t want to marry you? It’s okay, I know I’m a screw up and that I’ve been on borrowed time to have even a bit of you.” Adam says, quietly, resting his forehead against hers and her heart aches, hurts, as she realises just how much he hurts inside, how little he thinks of himself.

And that’s when she knows she doesn’t care when they get married, or move in properly, or any of that—all she cares about is making sure he knows, for the rest of his life, that he’s a good man, a definitely not a screw-up.

“I thought it because I was being stupid. I got caught up in this whole thing, this rut we’ve been in. I probably put more stock in other’s opinions more than what I know in my heart. But, baby, I know now. I promise. I love you,” Kim gently tilts her head to kiss him, softly, on his lips. She used to think the most love was in the passionate, all consuming kisses.

But loving Adam taught her that it’s these kinds of kisses that show the most love. The soft, gentle but oh so filled with love, affection, adoration kisses. The only kisses done when you truly know someone, when you love them all the way down, deep into your bones, your soul.

And that’s how she loves Adam.

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