#and havent read it five million times over before

[sieglinde-freud]

sometimes i open my conquest lunatic save and i go “god. i really shouldve done my pairings optimally. the game could be so much easier” and then i unlock laslow nyx A and S supports and their crappy little soleil with gorgeous hair and i start sobbing and wailing this is peak fire emblem

[hypersonic04]

since you are the head of the teacher!ross brigade, ive had an idea in my head for YONKS and i dont think ill ever write it so

you're a teacher too, you went to uni with ross (and maybe had a thing with him on the dl) but havent seen him since then but when you start working at a new school surprise!! its the one he works at!! so you guys rekindle your friendship again and WHOOPS you guys get feelings and its just cuteness

This is just the most dreamy concept. You should 100% write a proper version of this, I would read and reread a million times over.

Oh my goodness, imagine seeing him for the first time in like, five or six years i'm thinking? You're a bit nervous - it's your first day at this new school, and yeah, you've been teaching for a few years now, but starting a new job is still super scary!

You're being shown around by a colleague, and you swear it's like slow motion when you walk into the staff room. He's sat there with a coffee in hand, brow furrowed as he marks an essay, his face concentrated. All of a sudden, you're 19 again, on a night out with all of your uni friends, a little bit too handsy with your flatmate's best friend and giggly from the amount of vodka cranberries you've had. You have to clear your throat and bring yourself back down to Earth when you realise that not only are you staring, but you're also a deep shade of crimson as you recall what else happened later that evening, and most evenings after that.

You probably manage to make a swift exit before he looks up, but he knows that voice anywhere. He immediately asks around to see who the new teacher is, and is pleasantly surprised to know that his memory serves him well. At lunch, he comes knocking on your classroom door.

I reckon he's a bit coy at first, memories of what the two of you used to get up to flashing into his mind as he asks how you've been and how you've ended up at the same school as him. You talk about your uni friends, where everyone's living now, the ones that have got married and had babies. It doesn't take long for you to slip back into that easy going, friendly rhythm of conversation, and it actually turns out to be pretty helpful to know someone at work. Seeing emails from him in your inbox makes you smile, even more so when he comes to sit at the back of your classroom as you teach (for 'training purposes only', apparently). He helps you out a lot, especially at the beginning when you're unfamiliar with the abbreviations they use in meetings and the marking procedures, and you end up being really close. It's just a really lovely friendship, and you find that if you're not teaching, you're sat gossiping together or trying to suppress your childish laughter in serious staff meetings.

As you said in your ask, they 100% end up catching feelings for one another. How could he not? He always thought you were really intelligent and funny when you were seeing each other the first time around, and six years down the line, not much has changed. He drives home with a ridiculously wide grin on his face the day you ask him if he fancies going for a drink after work some time, after weeks and weeks of contemplating asking you himself. He tells himself that if things go wrong, you're still friends and you have a really great working partnership, but really, he hopes he can get it right this time (no Oh Caroline pun intended).

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[juyeoniemyhoney]

can this morning never end

Namjoon is the most beautiful human being to ever walk the earth. It is natural that you have a crush on him. You expect that eventually, your feelings will die out but then, you find yourself squealing uncontrollably outside of the library that you and Namjoon had agreed to meet at for your pair-work assignment. You have always watched Namjoon from afar. It surprises you when you find out that Namjoon has been observing you too. Well, there’s a first for everything. 

-pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

-genre: FLUFF, a lil bit of angst, high school/secondary school au (where i live high school is called secondary school;-;)

-warnings: vulgarities, pretty self-depreciating writing if im gonna be honest so be weary, Namjoon is a little bit of a simp for oc in this one, the ending is lowkey shit rip im sorry

-word count: 3208 words

-A/N: hi hi im back, this time with a Namjoon fic. i havent been writing a lot because im so preoccupied with my exams. in all honesty, i shouldnt be writing at all but i have absolutely no sense of self control, so i wrote this. it’s not my best but i really like how joon’s so soft in this so i decided to post it anyway. don’t be afraid to tell me how you liked (or didnt like) this imagine! and requests are open! hope you enjoy this one:)

--------

As you approach the entrance of the library, your heart starts beating a mile a minute.

You stall outside the automatic sliding doors, mind racing with a million scenarios. You freak out a little and silently squeal, earning you disapproving frowns and judging eyes from passers-by. But you don't care. You've waited a whole week for today.

A week ago, during English class, you were busy writing instead of paying attention, as usual, when your teacher had given the class the assignment to write a scenario, of any genre but it had to contain the writer's techniques she had taught in class. And she made the whole class pair up. You, too lost in the world of fanfiction, had not been listening and frankly, you didn't really care, passing her words off as just more homework.

The next thing you knew, Kim Namjoon had turned around in his chair, calling your name in that deep, gravelly voice. At the sound of his voice, your head immediately shot up, eyes wide in surprise.

"Do you want to partner up?" he had asked, lips slinging into an easy grin, eyes curling up and that goddamned dimple making itself made known on his left cheek. He patiently waited for your answer, eyes periodically glancing down to your desk that was in disarray, pieces of paper containing your words messily covering every corner of your desk. You pray that he didn't catch a peep of your (admittedly) cringeworthy fanfic as you tried to subtly gather the papers before he could read too much.

"Um, partner up for what?" you questioned, confused, head tilting ever so slightly to the right in question, brows furrowed in misunderstanding. He mirrored your actions and your heart had unwontedly skipped a beat. A beat of silence passed, "For the assignment?"

Before you could ask what assignment?, your teacher had interrupted your conversation with a satisfied clap and a smile. "Alright, I assume you have all found your partners. I'll give you time to work on your assignment right now. Remember that planning is the most important stage of writing. Do approach me if you have any questions."

Namjoon had turned back to you with a wry grin that looked a tad bit awkward, saying, "Well, I guess we're partners now."

Which is how you find yourself freaking the fuck out in front of a library on a Saturday morning, mind racing with different, absurd scenarios and outcomes of this meeting. You decide to take another minute to compose yourself.

You wouldn't say that you like Namjoon per se. You just think he is the most handsome man to walk on this godforsaken planet. But seriously, that man is far too beautiful to be real. From the first time you met him til now, you have no doubt that that man is a celestial being, gifted to the world from the gods, purely to cleanse the eyes of us, mere mortals. To make matters worse, he is smart too; of a wisdom thousands of years beyond his age. You still can't believe you've had the god-given opportunity to meet someone like him.

Okay so, maybe you kind of like him a lot, more than you let on, but you're not really sure if you like him because he's Namjoon or if it's because you are lovelorn, touch deprived, or both.

You reckon it has taken more than a minute to compose yourself because by the time you snap out of your daze, you are five minutes late when you had actually arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed timing. You sigh and finally walk through the doors that welcome you into the cooling library, cold blasts from the air conditioning cooling down the fierce blush that had taken refuge on your cheeks.

You immediately proceed to find a seat but Namjoon texts you, telling you that he's already a step ahead of you, having secured a seat in a room with tables on the second floor.

When you reach the second floor, and make your way towards the rooms, you can see Namjoon through the glass walls, sitting down and silently reading a book as he waits for you. The closer you draw to the room, the faster your heart pounds in your chest. The sound is deafening and distracting and you don't even realise how fast you had walked until you are finally knocking on the glass door, sending Namjoon a small smile when he looks up at you.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets, smile widening into a grin so wide that it hides his eyes. Your heart stops but you hide it with a small smile as you settle down your things and yourself opposite him.

"So, what genre did you want to write about," he asks as you take a pen and a piece of paper out from your bag. You freeze when your brain registers his sentence. "The assignment is to write a story?"

Namjoon stares at you wordlessly for a while, speechless that it's been a week and you still don't know what the fucking assignment is. You, however, have no idea that he is thinking about how stupid you are and happily stare back at him, taking in his mono lidded, almond-shaped eyes and the dark brown of his irises. His nose bridge is straight and the tip of his nose is a little flat, like a koala. You have never wanted to boop a nose so bad in your entire life.

"Yeah, that's the assignment," he responds patiently, giving you a gentle smile. You can't help but feel that it seems a little tight and forced, like he is regretting asking you be his partner, and regretting that he didn't have enough time to reconsider. You ignore the feeling of dejection that slowly bubbles up inside of you.

"I thought that it'd be easiest to write romance since you're so well versed in that.". You freeze. Time seems to have stopped and your ears refuse to register the rest of what Namjoon is saying, tuning everything out but your deafening thoughts. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

"You know that I write?" you interrupt Namjoon. He stops and fixes you a look of confusion, like it is so obvious that you write. It's not that you've been trying to keep it a secret. The thing is, for most of your stories, Namjoon is the main male character. In most of your stories, you have described every single part of him in excruciating detail, his eyes and lips especially. When your friends had first read your stories with Namjoon as the male protagonist, they had caught on quickly, almost immediately asking you if you were describing Namjoon because of how well you had described him. A bad feeling washes over you.

"Yeah, you're always scribbling away during English so I got curious and asked a few of your classmates," he responds, flashing you another lopsided smile. If this were any other situation, your heart would have been absolutely eliminated because of that smile but in this situation, all you can think about is if he's read any of your work. Because if he has, you're done for.

"What did my classmates say?" you question hesitantly, still deciding if you want to know his answer.

"Well they said that you've been writing since forever. They also said that a lot of people know that you write. Oh, and they also said that you had some published works so I went to check them out—" Namjoon's voice fades out as he continues to talk.

This is it.

It's the end of your social life. Namjoon is going to tell his loud ass group of friends that you write stalker-esque stories about him and then one of his friends is going to accidentally tell their girlfriend and then the girlfriend is going to spread it across the school and you'll be known as the loser who writes creepy stalker stories about Namjoon—

"It was amazing," you hear Namjoon say in between your mild quarter-life crisis. You pause and look him square in the eye. You want to come off as serious but you falter slightly when Namjoon stares back at you, irises a whirlpool of dark brown and glittering fascination, a swirling vortex that draws you in with a vicious intent of drowning.

"Yes?" Namjoon questions you after a beat of silence passes. You want to ask him if he knows that he is reading about himself but you stop yourself. "You like my stories?" you ask instead, feeling a tad bit shy now that you've realised that Namjoon likes what you write about him.

He lets out a small laugh, "Is it that hard to believe that I like what you write?"

"I was just surprised." He flashes you another wide grin and there it is, those cursed dimples show themselves again, grinning tauntingly at you and your heart commits the highest act of treason when it starts to beat faster. You gulp.

"You shouldn't be surprised. It was really good. I really liked it when you described the male character. It felt like I was looking at him myself. That's why I asked you to be my partner. I'm sure with your talents, we can get a really good mark on this assignment."

Your heart thuds a little faster when Namjoon tells you that his favourite part was reading about how you described him. But it falls to your stomach when he tells you that he picked you solely for your supposed talents. You don't know why, but a part of you had thought that maybe Namjoon wanted to get to know you better, and was using this assignment as an excuse. You thought that it was finally happening, someone you like has finally noticed you. But it looks like you thought wrong.

"Thank you," you say meekly, flashing him a half-hearted smile that you're sure he notices from the way he stiffens. "So, you said that you thought that romance would be a good genre, but what do you want to write about?"

Namjoon is silent for a while, lips pursed in ponder. You wait patiently for his answer.

"Well, I thought that I'd wanted to write romance too," he answers flashing you an awkward smile. The silence that follows is palpable and suddenly, you feel so very exhausted. "Well then, that's settled. Now we just have to think of a situation."

"How about this one?" Namjoon asks immediately after you finish your sentence. He says it rather suddenly and it startles you a little. You can't help but hear a certain extent of desperation in this voice. He wants to get this over with, you tell yourself.

"How do you mean?"

"Kinda like us now," he starts but stops to think about what to say next. You remain silent. "We should just write about us but make it a love story. For example, the two main characters are supposed to do a project together so they meet at a library," he pauses to gesture to the shelves surrounding the both of you.

"Then they start working on the project and they start talking. Then, somehow, the boy confesses to her. And the girl tells him she's always felt the same way. We can come up with how he confesses since I myself haven't come up with that yet," he continues, softening the last part of his sentence into a mumble that you barely hear, but still do. You pause. What the fuck?

"What did you say? I didn't hear you," you ask against your better judgement, curiosity getting the best of you. "Huh? Oh, it was nothing."

A furious blush begins to spread on the apples of Namjoon's cheeks, and for some reason, your body begins to mirror him, heart pumping hot blood to the blood vessels that lay beneath the skin of your cheeks. Namjoon shyly directs his gaze to his lap, dark brown bangs, the colour of his eyes, coming down in luxurious curls and waves to hide his eyes. You can't help but think that you like to see Namjoon like this; soft and shy and vulnerable because he is usually so confident and suave. It feels like he is showing a new side of himself to you, like he is peeling back the layers of masks and personas he has built until he is left raw and natural, allowing you to see everything that he is. The thought of that leaves you feeling winded because it is exactly what you want. And suddenly, you don't feel bashful or shy because of his words. Instead, you are determined, hellbent on making something out of this and you hope with your whole being that it is a relationship.

You are about to say something, to question him, bombard him until he is spilling his feelings in fumbled words and sentences of desperation and want, clawing at you until you too, are raw and vulnerable. But he beats you to it, speaking in a soft, hushed tone, as if you are a stern silence that he is afraid of interrupting.

"I think you're amazing, Y/N. What do you think of me?"

He stares meekly at his lap, too afraid to even spare you a glance. You remain silent, building his desperation like you are some professional flirt. In all honesty, you really just want to tell him you like him too but you're just so scared. The evidence that he at least feels something for you is right in front of you and yet your brain rejects it like a vending machine rejects a bill, walls built far too high and thick that words are no longer enough to convince you. He has to show you. And you think he knows that too.

Namjoon's head shoots up to stare you in the eyes, a new found determination and confidence burning in his eyes. The way the light finds his dark brown irises makes your heart do a million somersaults. They light up and turn into a golden brown you can't help but compare to a sweet, caramel syrup that coats your tongue in golden, sugary gratification. You swallow so hard, you feel the sides of your throat rub together painfully. 

"I think you're freaking amazing, Y/N. Every time I look at you, I always want to make myself better. For you. I want to become the best version of myself in hopes that it'll satisfy you and garner your attention. And I really like that you do what makes you happy. I absolutely love it when you write in English because you're always so focused and serious, plus, you make that really cute face when you're concentrating and it always makes my heart beat a little faster and it makes me hate that I sit in front of you because I have to keep finding stupid reasons to turn around just to look at you and I just think you're the most amazing, admirable, lovable person ever," Namjoon lets out. His words are rushed and desperate and you melt like goddamn candle wax.

"I'm— Wow, I'm— thank you, Namjoon. That really means a lot to me," you stutter, not really knowing what to say at first but finding your words soon enough. "Oh, and I feel the same way," you add, somehow missing the main point of your response. It doesn't matter anyway. He knows now. That's all that matters.

"Wait, really?"

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, Namjoon. Is it that hard to believe that I like you too?" you reply, a homage to your previous conversation.

Namjoon smiles a small smile, then it widens, and widens, and widens, until he is flashing you a blinding grin that could outright beat the glare of sunlight. "You said that you like me," he points out, eyes shining.

It is your turn to blush in embarrassment, cheeks feeling hot as you begin to sink into yourself, hair falling from behind your shoulders to hopefully make itself useful as a curtain to shield your red face from Namjoon. Something in Namjoon's chest begins to splinter at the sight. He is so very tempted to pull out his phone and snap a picture of you but he holds himself back at the thought that he is positive he has many more chances to do so. His ribs nearly break in half because of how hard his heart beats.

"It's a good thing that I like you too," he says gently, smile now gentle instead of blinding. "Also, we have a plot now!" he exclaims in excitement as he slides the pen and paper closer to himself, ready to start on your assignment.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"So, we're, are we? You know... Um, dating now?"

Namjoon's eyes widen in horror and he deflates himself, a disappointed frown pulling his eyebrows together at the centre and turning the corners of his lips down. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't ask— I just assumed—" he cuts himself off, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks. Somehow, he still feels nervous even though he knows that you answer is a resounding, "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Namjoon lets out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and it comes out in a relieved sigh. "Thank God because if not our story would have a horrible ending," Namjoon comments, picking the pen back up and clicking it open.

"Let's write that," you cut in before he can say anything else. "Write a sad love story?"

Namjoon is going to tell you no, to completely disapprove of your idea because writing a sad love story is one thing but writing a sad love story that will be handed up to your teacher for her to grade is another thing. But then, he sees your eyes glisten in determination and he dispels his thoughts immediately, folding into himself like a goddamn lawn chair. He can't believe he was just about to say no to you. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Please? I'm better at writing angst. Plus, we have a happy ending and that's all that matters," you press, trying to convince him. You don't have a real reason other than the fact that you write angst better. You also don't really know why you want to write angst right now when you feel as if you could fly. But it doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. Namjoon is your's now. 

Namjoon flashes you a dimpled smile, eyes curling up and glittering with mirth and unadulterated belief in you. You can't help but think that you want him to never stop smiling like that, looking at you like you are some sort of celestial being, hailed from the sky solely to bring him every sort of merriment known to mankind and the heavens. The thought of him thinking of you like that scares you, because you are always afraid of not being enough. But Namjoon diminishes all of your worries with a short sentence, manhandling them by the throat and shoving them off a cliff.

"Okay, I believe in you."

[sadsapphicslut]

chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!! 

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

  Chapter One

A Dead Brother

          I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

           My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

           Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of  “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

           Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

           “Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,” she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.  

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

  ❈

             “Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

           “Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

           Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

           It rang four times before he picked up.

           “Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

           “Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

           I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

           “Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

 Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

 My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

 This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood –  that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene.  My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

  I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

 ❈

             The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

           The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

           I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

           Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

           My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

             We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

           The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

           As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

           The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

[starstuffandalotofcoffee]

You didnt see the guy who runs daily kos saying "im so glad I dont have to fact check speeches now"? You havent seen the harassment leftists have been getting for pointing out Biden is already elevating uber and lyft executives? I guess you already did go back asleep.

I didn’t. I rarely go on Twitter and The Daily Kos blog is not a news source I read often. I was able to find his tweet, and I agree that’s a concern. I hope it was meant as a joke in poor taste about how blatantly and frequently Trump lied to the public and not an intention. I know news outlets of record did fact check Biden consistently throughout the debates, and historically have fact-checked politicians regardless of political party. While I would not, perhaps, extrapolate to the entire millions of people who identify as liberal from a single tweet from a single person, I again agree this is concerning and would prefer people not even joke about it. Twitter is not a good place for reasoned and nuanced political discussion, but even within the limitations it would have been much wiser for him to tweet something along the lines of “so nice to fact check a politician’s speech and not have to call out ten different lies in a single paragraph”.

As for the Lyft and Uber members on the board, that’s also a concern. The California Democratic party opposed proposition 22, which gives Uber and Lyft a concerning amount of power over employees. News articles from mainstream/politically neutral sources such as Reuters have meanwhile pointed out that Biden’s tech transition team includes a large number of tech companies and not as many critics thereof . As mentioned I don’t spend much time if any on Twitter; I’m sure there are disagreements, and I hope you are able to look at a large number of people to see the multiple views present within. I don’t know your exact leftist positions, but I think we can agree that leftism includes a wide number of views - socialism, communism, left-anarchists, all which branch out even further into subdivisions like Marxism or anarcho-primitivism - and that the views of some do not necessarily represent the positions of all.

You seem extremely angry. I can understand that. I remember how I felt in the 2016 election, seeing Trump supporters celebrate what felt like an unlivable loss to me - one that I’m still angry about, and will remain angry about probably for the rest of my life.

I think a lot of people felt angry in a similar way, and I think many of them voted for Biden for that reason. It sounds as though you still feel this unlivable anger - but it sounds like you feel it before Biden has even taken office - less than five days after he was declared president-elect. I suspect you didn’t have any hope that this election would improve things, even slightly, and that sounds like a very depressing place to be.

What I will say, though, is I didn’t message Trump supporters, or search for them on Twitter. I did not, for the most part, spend all my time online jumping on every statement as proof that things would never get better. I looked for ways to mobilize and bring about the change I wanted. And I recognize the way I want to change things - both the results and the method - are probably not the same as yours. I likely want to drastically reform systems you would prefer be torn down entirely. I tend to work through existing avenues of political engagement and peaceful protest, and you may prefer violent revolution. But I think we (both you and I, and more broadly liberals and leftists) both want considerable change, and in many cases in the same direction: that no one goes hungry, or is killed, harmed, or otherwise made unsafe because of their race, gender, sexuality, ability, age, or religion. That there is more to life than working until we die. That the environment is not ruined by humanity’s actions.

I wonder how you hope to accomplish these things.

Right now, liberals - and some leftists (I usually try to distinguish between leftists who do things in the real world and what I call ‘online/very online’ leftists, as a lot of leftist activists participate in elections and protests) have not given up on fighting for what they want. Phone bank slots have filled up for the Georgia runoffs, people are pouring money into causes they support, whether it’s funds for native populations seriously affected by COVID, or abortion access networks, and BLM protests have continued as they have for months. I hope you are not mistaking the first breath many have taken in four years for apathy, and that you allow the people you see as allies the same time to rest amongst the action.

It sounds as though you have given up on anything changing within a week of the mere promise of future change, and that you are looking for ways to feel that pain more online.

Maybe you’re not. Maybe you are taking the time in between the real-world actions you take towards revolution to both extensively check Twitter and Tumblr and send this. Maybe you’ve tried to change hearts and minds all day and have decided I am the one person who you will give up on. I doubt it, but it’s possible, and if that’s the case, this is a long answer and you’ve probably stopped reading. But if you are refreshing Twitter and despairing in an endless loop and are angry at everyone I hope you can get help, and that things get better for you, and you find an outlet for that anger in a way that helps the people you care about.

Feel free to check in at Biden’s inauguration in January; I will check the Daily Kos on that day to see if they maintained the same journalistic standards, since I think we both agree a press that applies critical analysis of the government, regardless of who is in charge, is vital. Take care.

[dingletragedy]

🌟Lets spread some love for content creators because they havent gotten as much as they deserve lately! If you get this tell me about five works you love (fics, art, gifs, anything!) then send this message to at least five other people🌟

right five MORE let’s go!!!!! i love this game:

@artsy-highway what can i about about leo and all their talent ... so SO much and i know i’m know i’m supposed to focus on one piece of work but a whole series counts, right? leo’s comfortember well... just that... so bloody comforting!!!!! each new fic brings me heaps of warmth and happiness each day. i’m amaze at how leo is so committed to the series, giving us not only a new fix every damn day, but ones that are so unique and brilliant and captivating. your imagination!!!!!! i could NEVER. the fics are always the last thing i read before i go to sleep, and the first things i think about it the morning. thank you for making this gloomy, dull, lockdown november that little easier and more joyous for us all. AND we’re only halfway through.. what a TREAT <33

@cqllumhighway so as we are probably aware i ADORE everything cait creates. every. last. thing!!!! and it was so difficult to choose just one gif self because damn, they’re all so brilliant. but this one — remember, the sun is a star too — this one is more than that, it’s stunning and gorgeous and so heartachingly them. i am in Love with the ideology that callum is and ben is the moon and if anyone wants to know why, check this gifset out. "callum had a smile bright enough to outshine the sun / ben ia all darkness amd starlight eyes" i mean !!!!!! have you ever heard anything thats them better? i sure as Hell haven't!!! MY HEART. i have no idea how cait does it, to alwayss manage to find the most beautiful and fitting quotes/poems and turn then into the most gorgeous gifsets with her insane talents. she outdoes herself every time. were so lucky to have you, cait x

@callumsmitchells lucy has produced So many incredible fics for our lil fandom (47!!!) and we are so lucky to have been blessed with each and every one of them, but a particular favourite of mine (and everyone else’s i assume) is i can't get over the way (you love me like you do) — this au has all the tropes we could ever dream of included, all which are written so SO well and incredibly in character for ben and callum. which is testament to lucy’s talents, she’s knows there two so well that she could throw them in any universe and they would just make sense. the above fic is beautiful from start to finish, it’s hopeful and it’s tender and it’s full of all these tiny little detail that’ll make your eyes cry and your heart smile. it’s just... it’s so WARM. like a massive hug on a winters day. you’re an angel, luce <33

@halfwayinit i remember reading one of katie’s very first fics, laid bare, on my way to work very early one morning and it just made me so Happy!!!!! i fell in love with her poetry-like words. but i don’t think we’d ever spoken much at this point, but i’ll always remember how down katie felt about her fics and her (incredible) writing talents. and then i compare that to now - and her more recent fics such as it’s a kind of magic and God!!!! God, i am SO unbelievably proud of this girl!!!! it’s a kind of magic is Everything. it’s one of my favourite fics forever and always. it’s as if katie has this crazy ability to put you under a spell (ha! see what i did there...) and draw you in. her words are so captivating that’s it’s literally impossible not to read this fic in one go!!!! and god, it’s such a happy read. it’s got that perfect balance of angst and fluff, of will they won’t they? but beneath it all is this overwhelming sense of love and hope that’ll leave you grinning at your phone like an idiot. and as much as i LOVED Katie’s earlier fics too (so SO much!!!) i cry everything i think about how fats she’s come in her writing and confidence and everything. i lov her btw x

@permetstu vikki!!!! what can i say without vikki with sounding like some obsessed fan girl, huh? well firstly this was Very hard to choose just one creation because vikki has put so many brilliant pieces out there for us all to enjoy ... in fact it was such a hard choice i’ve actually gone with two lmao sorry i don’t make the rules i just break them 🥴 annnway: gifset this edit of their first meeting... it’s SO wonderful in so many way. i absolutely love the black & white look but the added yellow really makes it. it makes something so new and tentative feel so warm and familiar and comforting. and that’s just what ballum are, aren’t they? and the words vikki has chosen just for perfectly!!!! my Heart!!!!!!!! now for a fic: a million ways (to say i love you) ... wow!!!! i think this was the first fic of vikki’s that i ever read and God, i had no idea she could write like THAT. damn this girl and her endless talents!!!!! this fic is gorgeous from the very first word to the very last, it’s tender and gentle and hopeful. vikki’s characterisation of the boys is so brilliant, this fic is everything they are an md so much more. i’m in AWE <33

[brushes-of-sage]

Alchemy. It was the only thing that was uniting the princes of Arendelle. While a door had separated the two brothers for the past five years, Hugo found a way to still stay connected to his brother. It all started three years ago, when Hugo realized he was running out of things to do. Oh sure, there were plenty of things in the castle, but that number reduces *significantly* when you realize there’s no one to do these things with you. So, Hugo decided to take up alchemy again. (1/?)

Alright lemme try to see if the keep reading works:

He had stopped working with alchemy when Varian had disappeared behind that cursed door, since alchemy was just another painful reminder of the brother he felt he lost. It was one of the brothers' favorite things to do, along with… along with... well, Hugo couldn’t really remember. The more he tried thinking about things he did with his brother that wasn’t alchemy, he got nothing, just laughter and a small headache. But, the number of things to occupy his time were getting thin.

So, he decided to give alchemy a try. This turned out to be a great decision. Not only did it serve as a distraction, but it served as something to keep his mind going. This distraction worked well for a few weeks until he hit a roadblock. He was trying to perfect an alchemical ice bomb that he had started when he was younger, but could never finish. But nothing seemed to be working. After staring at his disaster of a note pile for the better part of an hour, a little voice in his head said,

“You could go to Varian for help”

“No,” he snapped back, “If Varian wanted to help me or be there for me, he would leave his room. Clearly he doesn’t want to talk to me, or anyone for that matter.” Hugo didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to get a bit mad at Varian. They were the best of brothers for years, and then just one day, Varian just shuts himself in his room, without a single word as to why. He laid his head on his desk and sighed. “Ah, who am I kidding? I���m going crazy just sitting here, I need to talk to someone, even if its nothing more than alchemy notes.”He gets up, grabs his notes, and starts to make his way to a door he passed by and stared at a million times before. On the way though, his mind is going through a back and forth battle: He wont wanna talk to you! Yes, he does, we havent spoken in forever! I wonder why? Besides its just some alchemy help, I’m not asking anything too extreme! All he has to do is fix a couple equations! What if he tears it up and ignores it, just like he has you these past few years? After this comment, Hugo ended up backtracking back to his room. He’d go tomorrow. Right?

Wrong. It took him three weeks before he found himself staring at the door that plagued his existence for two years now. He raised his hand to knock, and before he could back out, knocked twice and slid the notes through the crack under the door. He started anxiously pacing, his mind going back to the constant battle in his mind that had been raging for the past 3 weeks. After a couple minutes of pacing, Hugo was just about to leave when he heard 2 knocks, and paper slide back under the crack. Instantly, the flurry of anxious thoughts started up again, worrying it would come back blank or with a note saying Varian wouldn't help him. His hands shook as he opened the notes to reveal.. the completed solution. He read the solution 2 3 4 times before a huge smile spread across his face and he laughed a huge genuine laugh he hadn’t used in two years. These notes meant 2 big things: One, he finally had a solution to an alchemy problem he’d had since he was nine. And two, the more important one in Hugo’s opinion, is that his brother doesn’t hate him. That scary thought had crossed his mind multiple times and he had always quickly shot it down, but there was always that one tiny voice who would always say, “But, does he though?” Now, that voice was as good as dead. Varian didn’t hate him. He wasn’t giving him the *total* silent treatment. Maybe he could work up from here, have conversations through the door, send notes, maybe even ask why he was doing any of this in the first place.Just as he’s about to leave for his lab to finish the ice bombs with the now completed formula, Hugo heard two knocks on the door and stopped. He wasn’t expecting anything else. He looked at the bottom of the door and saw a small stack of papers slide under and he picked them up. It was a stack of alchemy notes titled “Melting Bomb” The notes were full of blank spaces and question marks and there was a note attached that said:

Hugo-Please assist me in completing this formula for a melting alchemy bomb. I have been on and off of this project for the past few years, and some assistance would be much appreciated. Thank you.-Varian

As excited as Hugo was that his brother was reaching out to him, and actively looking for his help, he couldn’t help but feel a bit…disappointed at the formality of the note. As if Hugo were some stranger that Varian had just met and had to put up formalities and not his own brother. Nevertheless, he shouts a quick “Be right back!” and dashes off to his room to grab a quill and inkwell. While he runs, he reads over the notes and finds the answer fairly quickly. It wasn’t all that hard, it just was in desperate need of a fresh set of eyes. He scribbled down the answers as quick as possible, not wanting to keep Varian waiting. He runs back to Varians room, knocks 2 times and slips the notes under the door. After a couple of minutes, he hears a soft gasp, the quick scratching of a quill, and a new note being shoved under the door. Hugo picked up the note and stared at the messy handwriting and smiled. This was the big brother he remembered. Thanks for the help! Now go work on your project! This went on for the next few months with notes. Sometimes it wasn't just alchemy they talked about. It started simple, like “How’s your day going” and things like that.

Then it slowly evolved to things like “Get some rest Haristripe” and “You haven’t eaten yet today have you, Hugo?” (Both weren’t exactly the best at self care, especially when they were caught up in their work). The day Hugo finally heard Varian talk was one of the best days of his life. Obviously, he had heard his brother talk before, but it had been years since they had spoken, and as the time passed, Hugo’s memories of Varian’s voice faded. Plus, with the time passing, he knew his voice would have changed. So, when Varian finally said a soft “Thank you”, Hugo’s face lit up with a huge smile. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, Hugo treasured every word he said, committing them to memory. For a while, things were going great. Until one fateful day, when Hugo pushed his luck just a *bit* more than he probably should have. The day started out normal enough, Hugo worked on some experiments he didn’t finish last night, ate some lunch, and then after lunch he grabbed his notes that needed Varian’s help, and started making his way to his room. However, on the way, he realized that as happy as he was to be able to talk to Varian, it didn’t feel *right*. A relationship based solely on notes slipped under a door and minimal verbal talking felt like a false one. What Hugo wanted to know more than anything, was *why*. Why had Varian shut him and the rest of the world out? If it was so necessary, why hadn’t he at least attempted some form of contact? This one word question had plagued Hugo’s mind ever since the door had closed, and he had never really had the confidence to ask it: until now.

So, he went back to his room and wrote out a letter. It was simple, a little more formal than usual, but to the point. It read: Varian- We’ve been talking with each other for a while now, and I feel we are at a point where I can ask this question: Why? Why have you locked yourself in your room and away from the rest of the world? Was it something I did? You can answer as vaguely or specifically as you like, I just would really like some answers. Thanks, Hugo

His hands shook as he folded the letter and slid it under the door. He knew to give Varian a little extra time, this wasn’t just a simple math problem. So Hugo waited. And waited. And waited, until it was dinner time and his stomach forced him to get some food. The whole time, his mind was at war with itself once again: See? You just had to push your luck, didn’t you? He’s giving you the cold shoulder ‘cause you couldn’t leave well enough well enough. No! He’s not giving me the cold shoulder, he’s just taking his time to formulate a response. It’s probably a really long story. Keep telling yourself that. I will! ‘Cause it’s true! If the positive side of Hugo was right, Varian sure was taking his sweet old time, because it was 3 weeks before anything happened. Three weeks of absolute silence from the older prince. The only reason things changed was because Hugo took the brave first step of sliding alchemy notes through the door. Five minutes later, it came back with notes and edits. There were no additional quips, remarks, or any explanations like he had requested three weeks earlier, but this was better than silence. They soon fell back into the routine they had before: notes, minimal verbal communication, and various quips. It felt good to get back to that routine, but a small part of Hugo still ached for answers that he feared would never come. But he never acted on this, fearing that Varian would once again give him the cold shoulder, and this time would ignore him for good.(20/20)

((And there it is! The final part! I hope u enjoyed reading it, this is the first time ive really written something i didnt hate *and* am sharing this with someone. Thank you for taking the time to read this, this means more than u know. Thank you also for letting me take over ur inbox😅Next up im doing this story but w/ varians pov, which ive already started. Thx again! -💙

Ahhhhhh, first off, sorry for getting to this later than I usually do!! These past few weeks have been hectic and I’ve been needing to take a step back and focus more on school and classes and stuff, but I finally got to reading this and OMIGOSH I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!

(Hope you don’t mind if I just added in some italics and kinda changed the formatting to make it easier to read - didn’t take anything off or anything, but the way tumblr formats asks is a bit weird lol, hope that doesn’t offend you! - also number 7 somehow went missing? 😅)

But OMIGOSH YO - just my heart akfjajdjaj 🥺 The two of them building their relationship slowly through passing letters underneath the door? Oh my heart, and the way you can just feel them getting closer and happier because of it?

But then Hugo asking Varian the why - why did he shut him out, why was he behind the door, why can’t they see each other - and then Varian just suddenly going back to that stiff and formal demeanor after that akfjakfjja I cry ahhhhhhh-

“But he never acted on this, fearing that Varian would once again give him the cold shoulder, and this time would ignore him for good.” - JUST RIP MY HEART OUT BLUE NONNIE AHDKGKAKJD

I absolutely loved seeing Hugo’s hesitance then excitement and eagerness to get closer to his brother whom he barely even knows besides a few memories (and ha, I see the headache there 👀) and only to see that he went too far and the fragile bond they’d forged again had melted and akfjakfjaj the FEELS-

Thank you for sharing and for letting me read your writing! I’m excited to see what you’ve got next for Varian’s POV!!! 😱

[dear-space-cadet]

al horford sleeper agent

—————

anyway by now ive told basically everyone i care about but i had a life changing experience over the weekend. n it sounds dumb as shit but i met a real life dude who was basically a clone of nick from franz. weird hours. guess this is a thread

before we start i want to say i havent thought about franz in weeks. theyve gone away on their own finally but really i think my old obsessions just get replaced every few years and maybe it was my hard work in therapy or my new obsession with rap or

maybe it was just a realization or me growing up and maturing or something but i dont even want to work on my favorite fanfics anymore or anything. it’s just odd. i think im changing

and i don’t think about how my former favorite band members are doing or worry about them or check their socials n it feels really good. but i know there probably is or probably will be a replacement

ok that was a tangent. if they were replaced by anything they were replaced by new friends and the NBA. so there’s the exposition of this story sorted

anyway back to the weekend. the sleeper agent invited me to lunch. and that was the catalyst. god people are being so loud in here let me go to the art library

anyway i just kind of realized "huh i guess there's more out there." i went to lunch n shit. WE went to lunch n shit. stopped caring so much about my math homework. let myself be dumb and in love

that’s a very human thing. lunch. he spilled his stupid chipotle burrito all over his stupid bright green celtics jacket

he’s from italy. never even stepped foot in a chipotle. immediately clowned himself. some world we live in

we hung out all weekend. we went to lunch like two more times and we went to dinner. there was this big threat of leaving looming over my head the whole time. i made him walk like a mile on crutches and i feel very bad about it

i don’t know what’s wrong with him. it’s somewhere between a basketball injury and a chronic disability. either way that just made me feel even more emotionally attached to him. i never saw him without the celtics jacket

it was so cold that weekend. or maybe i just didn’t bring the right jacket. if he were a gentleman he would have offered me the celtics jacket. i didnt even hug him goodbye

and then of course he went back home. theres a million girls all over his instagram comments all the time. theres nothing special about me. he doesn't want to talk. i wrote my ap psych notes in green yesterday bc i was so in love with that stupid celtics jacket

im a sixers fan. the sixers and the celtics have been rivals forever. it was about to be war, except i want to move to boston. but really i want to move to dc. i wish the whole world was philly. things would be less complicated

im in love with a celtics jacket. a celtics jacket. of all teams. and i cant even talk to my basketball friends about it because they think im dumb shit for falling for some celtics fan with a million girls all over his instagram comments all the time

im not like those girls. i don’t think im like those girls. but i definitely exactly am

i have an economics test in fifteen minutes. i think one day ill drown in the atlantic ocean.

the test wasnt that bad. i thought about writing this the entire time. i would just zone out and stare and think about the phrase ‘al horford sleeper agent’

because he has to be. why else would someone put a diehard sixers fan right in front of a diehard celtics fan who looks exactly like the guitarist of their middle school favorite band

in reality i should be calling him a celtics sleeper agent because the whole point is that al horford is a sleeper agent for the celtics. but i hate al horford so i guess it’s more funny to include him in the title

i mean how can one player change so drastically like that? al horford was benched for the first time since his rookie season, like, two weeks ago after being traded to the sixers. how does that happen? why *wouldn’t* he be playing badly so his old friends win the title?

al horford’s gotta be retiring in like, three years, tops. he’s working for the celtics, i know it. and my sleeper agent is trying to convert me to a celtics fan

i understand why people make jokes, though. it’s a very human thing to want to go home. al horford just wants to go home. he lived in boston for however many years let me look it up

god whatever it was only three years i thought it was like eleven that just ruined my point

back to the matter at hand though that’s all we’re trying to do. we all just want to feel at home. we’re all just these little things trying to connect somehow. sometimes we are more desperate than others

i think im pretty desperate right now. sometimes i sit in my bedroom and im like damn when do i get to go home? but im home

i didn’t even want to leave dc. it was all star break and there wasn’t even basketball on. so there i was, in basketball purgatory, wizards territory for some god forsaken reason, losing sleep over a celtics fan and not wanting to go home

and when i say i was losing sleep you better believe me. i was so excited to wake up in the morning that i didn’t want to fall asleep. i wanted to be awake forever, endless, running through the city

i’ll get there soon enough. it’ll be with different people. college, yknow. all that. but sometimes i feel like certain things can’t be replaced.

and im acting like a different person lately. im using my phone at red lights just so i can check for a message from the sleeper agent. it’s always one word responses

yes. ok. maybe. some shit like that. a haha every once in a while. he’s not interested and i should stop trying

and then, INEVITABLY, i send something stupid back, a photo of my hand on the wheel or something, and i get left on read

and i know im stupid for it. everyone i know is screaming at me “disco, you’re dumb shit” but i just want to believe for a minute that im loved, im special

I want to feel like someone out there cares about me that isn’t obligated to, yknow? my mom can say she loves me all she wants but it doesn’t feel as good as some italian celtics fan saying it

some hot italian celtics fan mind you

even if he wasn’t hot or italian it would be nice. and actually it would be better if he liked like, ANY other basketball team

except maybe the knicks

but whatever. main point: i know im dumb shit and should stop trying. but it feels good to feel like if i keep trying maybe i’ll be wanted

sleeper agent is just one of those people tho. he’s magnetic and everyone always wants to be around him. dumb as hell in the most charming way ever. my friends are still all making fun of me

i started crying in a pizza place the other night because even the CONCEPT of italy sent me over the edge. i need to stop before i

wait what’s the word

i need to stop before i immortalize him? no, no

i need to stop before i deify him. soon enough he’s going to be a new canonical character in my head and i’ll start making up legends and stories to myself

we barely knew each other. if i deify him i’ll start telling people he offered me the celtics jacket when it was cold out. he’ll become a perfect gentleman. and he wasnt. he was just some stupid hot italian boy in a bright green jacket

im not going to deify him. it won’t happen. but i love the color green. i always say i love yellow more but i think that’s passed. i wear a green ring on my right ring finger every day. im not going to deify him and i still hate the celtics

overall, the celtics are winning the rivalry. i don’t think the sixers have ever truly been “great,” at least outside of philly. maybe allen iverson. wilt chamberlain. dr j? theyve never had like, a dynasty. idk. i don’t think you’d be able to get a sixers jacket in italy.

it’s his birthday today. i should probably text him. i should probably stop thinking about him. that’s just dumb shit, disco youre better than this what happened to a little self confidence every now and again

sure lets say external validation isnt necessary but also i think that’s something the mindfulness crowd made up to sell more planners and tote bags in 2011. it feels good to be wanted

never waste all your time on it sure. know youre still worth it even when you have no friends and there are a million girls all over his instagram comments. but it does feel good to hear “goodness disco i like how much you like the philadelphia 76ers”

my friends are all making fun of me for being on some romeo and juliet shit because he’s literally from verona and he’s a celtics fan and im a sixers fan god damn it disco why does this always happen

i never even read romeo and juliet but i saw the dreamworks adaptation so i guess ive got the story relatively right i know they die in the end. the gnomes shatter into little pieces i think

anyway tangents aside the sixers won tonight. philly is lit up green. why the hell is philly lit up green? the eagles were done like three months ago and the flyers are orange. why is philly lit up green

oh god, he just snapped me. a zoomed in photo of himself with caption that says “76ers” with like five exclamation points

here we go again, everybody

wish me luck

[glamzerypink]

my highschool experience: 

for the past seven years i have had an endless pattern of no friends. when it first happened i just thought they forgot but over time realised i was always excluded no matter what. i let it effect me a lot because i was isolated with only my mind and my emotions soon enough completely have forgot what its like to have friends, what friends do and say. What it feels like to be remembered. what its like to hear your name or laugh until you cant breathe. i havent had that for seven years. For seven years a group of girls identified me to be someone unable to be talked to. and when one person does it they all conform. so it was a trend to think i was lesser than them. i was popular before, i had lots of popular boyfriends and wore clothes like them and got along with people from other schools but for no reason i can think of people still excluded me. it had me going insane thinking of all the things that could be wrong. i mean high school is five years of your life. their judgments did mean something to my  daily life. when i left school i spent two of those years trying to get back to normal now i wasnt around people who treated me wrongly everyday. i was nice to everyone and never let people feel left out. i stuck up for every underdog and realised how much the experience changed me. i went from a regular gossip teen to realising the value of others. and after all this... i started a new school. i barely knew how to make friends and was pretty much scared from the previous years the only thing i knew was that i was going to be nice to everyone no matter what and work hard. within ten minutes of being there i had already made a friend and not a nerd or a shy person like im used to but actually someone who is like me and likes to socialise and wear pretty clothes and hang out finally. it may seem stupid but when your surrounded with people who focus only on school its nice to have a friend whos into the same things as you finally. she soon introduced me to some others and we formed a pretty cool group that attracted more new people and it was so abundant and amazing. we laughed so hard and had so many stories passed around and i cant explain how intensely happy i was to have finally had an experience that i havent had in seven years compared to the millions of people who get to have that everyday. i know what its like to be left out and i want to make sure everyone is included and remembered. i know this is a very uncommon story i mean for me but i hope you see the light in this and know not all girly girls have had the best friendship experience or the best time at school. you may meet someone and think theyre  certain way and be comletely fooled. people always assume before meeting me that im stuck up and blonde and pretty and too cool for anyone but i try so hard now to smile and show people im nice and i dont judge them. everyones different and thats the beauty of a classroom. i know this probably means nothing but if your in school and reading this just know to chase those dreams and be kind to everyone along the way and good things wil happen. expect life to be the unexpected and love every part of your own adventure.

[pcnaks-blog]

— bitches rly be an admin n be posting their intro almost a week late w their blog not even done yet.. it’s me, i’m bitches ! DKGJDG hello my luvs i’m tien (she/her, 7teen, cst) n i am a 100% a hot mess pls don’t look at my blog pretend there’s a cute theme i literally made this 2 mins ago haha xx if i’m gonna be honest this intro is gonna be messy i literally have nothing planned out i usually just have a vague idea of my charas n then just go along w it n see how they end up in the rp KDJGGDJDGJ but anyways here she is ladies ,, buckle up !

— red lipstick imprints on coffee mugs, old scripts with messy annotations all over, leather-bound agendas, late nights on sets, ink smudged blouses.

( LALISA MANOBAN, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER, MUSE G ) did i just see NINA PANAK touching down in italy ? rumor has it this 22 year old PUBLICIST/PRODUCER is on their way to reunite with the brat pack. 

˚✧ ╱  BACKGROUND !

nina was born to two incredibly high-profile actors. her parents are the pride of thailand, both starting out as small actors in non-credited roles to becoming one of the highest-paying thai actors by the time they were in their twenties. her mom’s career started with modeling and beauty pageants where she first caught the attention of some important industry people and eventually ventured out into acting. after landing the starring roles in what would turn out to be a huge box-office success, the two actors were ultimately catapulted into stardom and became household names. they were like the leonardo dicaprio and kate winslet of thailand, with millions of fans always rooting that there was something more to that onscreen chemistry than just acting and rooting for the two to eventually get together in real life. after five years with continuous denial of any relationship rumors, they finally announced their relationship to the world with engagement news. it was like the type of romance you’d see only in films — two young starlets falling in love behind the scenes to become thailand’s golden, power couple ! after much anticipation from the public, their first-born daughter nina panak was born not too long after their wedding.

before nina was even born, there were already countless of people anticipating what the child of the power couple would turn out to be like. forums and gossip blogs online spent endless of hours speculating and debating her future and what she had to live up to. many believed and hoped she’d turn out to be an oscar-winning star and act in movies just as her parents had, many wondered if she would even be able to fill in their footsteps or if she’d always be in their shadow ? from the moment nina was welcomed into the world, a heavy load of expectations and pressure were put on her shoulders from the start. she was born during the height of her parents’ fame and success, which made it difficult as the first decade of her life she’d spend more time with nannies and people who were paid to take care of her rather than her own parents. as her parents continued to build their careers, venturing out into hollywood films and quickly gaining popularity and fans all around the world (very much like priyanka chopra and deepika padukone) — nina was learning how to walk and getting potty-trained by herself in their billion dollar mansion. 

though her parents were absent from her upbringing in much of her early years, they tried to make up for that later on by attempting to spend more time with her despite their packed schedules and often bringing her to the sets of their film. there, her interest in film and producing first sparked as she watched the entire process and saw how the magic of films came together before her very eyes. 

despite that, she always tried to push those thoughts and interests to the back of her head — wanting to focus on an acting career rather than a technical one to make her parents proud and to satisfy the public’s pre-established image of her. by the time she was in her teen’s, she was actively soughing out roles in tv dramas, going to auditions whenever she can to try and land any role that would jumpstart her career as her parents’ had at that age. her parents would use their connections to get her small roles in films and shows, but nina never got whatever acting gene that her parents had. she was a terrible actor, and was heavily criticized for each and every role she managed to play. eventually she gave up on acting, making many headlines and always leaving gossip blogs to speculate about her future — “nina panak quits acting ?!?!” “nina panak to become another celebrity kid with no talents ?” “click to read more about how [dad’s name here bc i havent decided] panak disowns his daughter, nina panak, after her failed acting career !”

during this time, the relationship between the power couple the media had loved so much had gone sour — much to everyone’s dismay. the day before, she was celebrating her parents’ anniversary with her parents and the rest of the world at their annual party, a party big enough to compare to the parties gatsby would throw in celebration of the day her parents first met each other on set. the next morning, nina woke up to endless headlines and pictures of her mom caught kissing another man off set — a much younger costar she had been working with over the past year for her new film. 

it doesn’t take much to guess what happened after that. her dad was filing divorce papers before she knew it — and their divorce case blew up to be a huge court battle as they argued about alimony and the division of their assets for months. 

after the divorce, nina soured as well. she put on a tougher image and hardened her shell as she put herself back out into the world — refusing to let her parents’ legacy and reputation be the only thing she had tied to her name. 

eventually nina ventured out to smaller jobs behind the scenes, and with the help of a close friend, landed a job as the publicist of a rising star. there, she managed the career of tomo katsumura for years meanwhile finally pursuing her interests in film-making and producing. before she knew it, she was being credited as the executive producer of many box-office hits. rather than being the one to fetch people coffee in the morning, she was directing and ordering hundreds of people around each day and bringing her artistic vision to the screen at the ripe age of 19 — leaving hollywood to ponder in awe about her newfound love and talent in film-making. soon enough, those negative headlines about her soon became headlines praising her for being the youngest executive producer in hollywood, with countless of directors and managers wanting to sign her on and work with her in their next project. 

˚✧ ╱  PERSONALITY !

ok now that u guys know her background and history/family, it’s time to know more about nina herself ! i’m gonna be rly brief w this n just try to condense this as much as i can bc u guys just had to read thru like paragraphs so ima make this easier for all of us KJDGJKDG

nina is very much like a hbic type character, she’s very independent, very powerful n can at times be manipulative if that gets her what she wants

her parents weren’t around much for her emotionally as a kid, so she basically always had to depend on herself n basically raised herself hence why she’s so guarded and has such a tough exterior

she doesn’t let her guard down easily, n even though she can be very mean n cold .. if u mean a lot to her n she trusts u she will do whatever it takes to protect n care for u

ok i would write more but i gotta go now so KGDJGDKJD this is basically nina in a nutshell ! i will make a stats page for her soon so stay tuned x but this is her pinterest right here 

pls plot w me i will message all of u very soon when i get home !!!!

[fatrainbowmermaidunicorn]

As Long As You Love Me (Jimin x You ONESHOT)

Thanks for the request anon! I went overboard with 8k+ sorry! but drafting this really gives me the Jimin feels though. Serendipity is definitely my jam while writing this <3

A/N: As usual, keep the requests coming in guys! would love to hear from you.

MASTERLIST

As long as you love me As long as you love me

"So, when are you going to date me?"

Y/N try to hide her face with her long hair as the whole student body all around the university cafeteria is looking at her with their mouth wide open. Well, she would be too if she is not the one currently sitting on the opposite side of the table from Park Jimin. Yes, the Park Jimin from BTS. He is only wearing a dark sunglasses, mostly to cover his eyes from the bright sun rather than trying to hide his identity, which of course, make everyone in the university gaped in wonder.

What is Park Jimin doing here? And more specifically what is he doing with a girl like her?

Well, its to asked her to date him, for the gazzilionth time.

"Can you please stop coming here? People are staring. I dont like the attention!" Y/N hissed at the delusional idol in front of her. Jimin chuckled.

"Well baby, you better get use to it. Its going to be worse than this when we are officially together," he grinned "And I dont really care if people are staring. My baby is gorgeous and I'm proud to show her off to people," Y/N slammed her book shut and picked up her bag.

"Keep on dreaming Jimin. And I'm not your baby," she hissed and walked away.

"I'll pick you up after class baby!" Jimin yelled at her retreating back, laughing, which only gathered more attention from the other student who is closely watching the scene.

We're under pressure Seven billion people in the world trying to fit in

"Hey Chim. Where did you go?" Taehyung raised his head from the sofa when he heard the door unlocked.

"Probably stalking Y/N again," Jungkook answered on his behalf while scrolling through his phone, not even bothering to look up. Jimin dropped himself on the couch next to Jungkook, sighing.

"Really Chim? Did you go to see her at the university again? When are you going to stop tormenting her?" Taehyung has now changed his laying down position to face Jimin with a concerned face.

"Until she agrees to be my girlfriend," Jimin answered, short and to the point. Its a common knowledge for the boys, and well, most people who closely follow the news about Jimin that this idol is currently trying to chase down one university girl. Taehyung shakes his head.

"Why are you doing this? There are millions other people out there more than willing to date you. Why are you chasing the only one who doesnt want to?" Taehyung's brows furrowed with confusion. "Dont you remember that you are an idol? Isnt it better for you to date one of those girl group members who keeps passing you their phone numbers? Its what expected of us anyway,"

"Easy Tae," Jimin turned to look at his friend. "Because I love her," Taehyung sighed. He didnt know why he even bother to ask when Jimin will only give out the same answer everytime. "And as long as she loves me back, I dont care what other people think or what other people expected from me. I dont care about the pressure people are putting on me to be one half of a perfect idol couple. People are always trying to fit in, doing what they were expected to be instead of what's really making them happy Tae. I'm having none of that. All I want is Y/N, and for her to love me back,"

/////

But hey now, you know girl, We both know it's a cruel world But I will take my chances As long as you love me

"Really Y/N. I dont understand why you cant just agree to date me! I know for a fact that you like me too, and dont you dare lie to me about it," Jimin keeps on pressuring her as he follows her on her way back from class like he usually do. Y/N tried to ignored him as she make her way to the grocery store to get some supplies for her empty fridge, but of course its impossible with him following closely behind and buggging her like a whiny three year old.

"I never said I dont like you Jimin. I said I dont want to date you!" Y/N hotly yelled back.

"Oh?" Jimin raised an eyebrow and pull her arm, stopping her from walking further. "Is that right? You like me but just dont want to date me? Then dont date me. How about you marry me instead? I really dont mind baby, as long as you are mine I'm cool with anything," Jimin wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, making Y/N rolled her eyes as she released her arm from his grip.

"Urghh, its hopeless talking to you!" Y/N huffed in frustration and enter the store with Jimin following close behind.

"Okay then. Make me understand why! You know I love you Y/N. I love you and you love me too. Cant you just tell me whats stopping us from being together?" he pleaded as he looks at Y/N who has now stopped in her tracks and closing her eyes in frustration. No one has ever looked more beautiful than her in Jimin's eyes. God, he had never wanted anything more than he wanted Y/N to be his. His heart cant stop beating faster everytime he sees or everytime he only thinks about her and it definitely doesnt help that his mind wont stop thinking about her ever since she literally walked into him during that one fanmeet. Jimin had fallen in love at first sight with the girl who bumped into him and cause his coffee to spill all over herself, and falls even deeper once he gets to know her. He thought it wouldnt take long for them to finally be together since Y/N seems to reprocicate his feelings, agreeing whenever he invites her to hang out and constantly replying his texts and calls  But its been almost a year since then and she still havent agreed to officially be his. Its bad enough that Jimin cant always be with her, he is also tired of constantly feeling jealous when he sees Y/N with a bunch of her guys classmates walking to class together, or seeing photos of student parties she attended with boys by her side. Y/N is his and he wants everyone to know that.

"Fine. You want to know why? This is why!" Y/N groaned as she plucked a magazine from the stand in the store and slapped it onto his chest. Puzzled, Jimin quickly scan the magazine, reading the article Y/N has opened up for him.

BTS Perfect Match: Who will suit the boys the best?

Jimin slightly thumb through the article that talks about list of girl idols and celebrities that they think suited each and every one of the members. Jimin looked back up to Y/N's face.

"So? I dont understand what this got to do with us?" Y/N raised both her hands in frustration.

"Dont you understand? Those," she tapped the images of the girls, " are the kind of girls that is expected for you. Your perfect match! Not me! Not someone you met at a fanmeet! Not some undergraduate law student who skin will break out every exam season, lives on education loan and can only afford a packet of ramen a day! Your perfect match are those perfect girls. Cant you go chase after them instead?" Jimin laughs. A loud, long laugh, making the other customers to turn and look at the two of them.

"Seriously, you are so damn adorable. God, I love you so much," Jimin grins. Y/N placed both her hands on her hips.

"Jimin, I'm serious!"

"I am too Y/N. Seriously, is that the only reason why you dont want to be with me?" Jimin chuckled and raised his hand to carress her cheek. "Then let me explain this to you baby. One, I already told you I dont care what society expect of me. I dont care if they think those girls are best suited for me. You are the one I think is the best suited for me. As long as I have you, I really dont give a care in the world. Two, I did meet you at a fanmeet, but you are not my fan. Instead Yoongi-hyung is your bias," Jimin huffed at the unpleasant memory of seeing you speechless in front of his hyung when just a second before you were perfectly fine in front of him. "Number three, you are a student, so what? I'm proud that my girl is going to be a lawyer one day. Four, I still think you look the most beautiful even when you think your skin is breaking out. No one could ever be more beautiful than you. That is just not possible," he shakes both his head and his index finger. "Number five, I have money. I dont need a cent from you. I dont care if you have millions of student loan. You are going to pay them all back when you become a succesful lawyer anyway. And six, you need to eat? That's a reason you cant be with me? I will come and feed you everyday. I will feed you a whole cow everyday if you want. No matter how pack my schedule is, I will make sure you eat, if that is what it takes for you to seal the deal. And finally no, I cant and wont go around chasing those girls because I rather be chasing you instead," he destroyed all her useless reason single handedly with his answer. "Got any more excuses?"

"Jimin... that's not the point!"

"You are right. That is not the point. The point is I love you, and you love me too. So we should be together. Right now," Jimin clasped both of his hands with hers, eyes staring deep into hers, pleading.

"Jimin, the world is going to tear you down if you choose to be with me..." Y/N lowered her gaze. Yes, she admits she loves Jimin. The boy in front of her had successfully taken her heart since they met a year ago. She loves him so much that she's willing to give him up if it means she can protect him from everything bad in the world.

"Y/N, I'm not going to lie. The world is going to throw shit at us if, no, not if, when we are finally together. But I rather face all that than try to live in a world where you are not mine. I love you so much. Its not even funny how much I want you. I'm willing to go through anything to make us work. The world is cruel to those who are in love Y/N, but as long as you promise that you will be by my side, loving me, I'm willing to take that chance anytime," Jimin cupped her chin and raised her face up to look at him. "So what do you say? Will you take that chance with me?"

"Jimin..."

"Y/N..."

"Jimin... I..."

"Please?"

Silence.

"Okay,"

Keep it together, Smile on your face even though your heart is frowning

"Baby, its going to be okay," Y/N lets out a heavy breath. How can Jimin be so calm?

"Chim, what are we going to do?" Y/N paced around her living room. It has been about three months since she and Jimin were officially together and truth to be told, she had never been happier. Jimin was the perfect boyfriend. Always checking up on her, never letting her walk home alone, showing up with a tub of ice cream and a romantic movie whenever she's suffering from menstrual pain, late night coffee run when she needed a break while studying, and of course, the never ending kisses and cuddles. Their relationship was perfect, happy and hidden from the rest of the world, only for her and Jimin to enjoy.

But now the world has found out about the two of them. Y/N can already see the stream of hate mails and angry comments everywhere. Are they going to be okay? Will the company let them stay together? What if they dont? Y/N dont think she can handle living without Jimin now. And what if the company wants to make them officially public? Will their perfect little bubble burst open once they let the rest of the world into it? Will they survive this?

The company has called Jimin to meet up with them today, telling him to bring Y/N along. From what she heard from Jimin and the other boys, they dont sound happy.

"Its going to be okay Y/N. No matter what happen, I will never let you go. We will get through all of this together. As long as you keep on loving me and believe in my love for you, we will get through anything. I promise," Jimin grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I love you Y/N. Smile, you are prettier when you smile," he traced her lips as he smile at her. Despite being terrified and scared, Y/N couldnt help but flashed him a smile. How can she not? When Jimin looked so happy and calm, smiling down at her.

"I love you Jimin. I love you so much,"

We could be starving, we could be homeless, we could be broke As long as you love me

"I'm sorry Jimin, but I cant allow this. I need the two of you to break it off,"

The two of them are currently sitting in a room with the PD and three other managers from the company, as Jimin grabbed Y/N's hand to stop her from fiddling it nervously. Jimin flashed her a smile, trying to remind her that he will never let go. That everything is going to be okay. They are going to survive this. As long as they keep on loving each other.

Y/N's eyes lowered to her lap as she heard what the PD said. She had predicted this would happen. BTS is one of the biggest name in the country right now, there is no way they are going to let Jimin, or any of the boys, publicly have a girfriend. It will cause a storm in the fandom and Y/N really doesnt want to be the reason to cause Jimin any problems.

"No," was the short and final answer that came out from Jimin's mouth to the PD's request.

"Jimin..." the PD warned him.

"I'm sorry PD-nim, you can ask me to do anything else, but breaking up with Y/N is out of the question," Jimin insisted. Y/N lowered her gaze even more as she feel the four pair of eyes burning a hole in her. They see her as the source of the problem and Y/N cant help but wonder if they were right.

"Park Jimin!" One of the manager raised his voice at Jimin's stubborness. Never before in his years of being their manager the boys dared to speak back to him like this.

"Okay. Everyone calm down," the other manager cutted in, sensing the heavy tension in the room. "How about this then Jimin? How about you and Y/N lay low? We dont need to confirm your dating rumor or even break you two up, but cant you at least help us out a little?"

"What do you mean by laying low hyung?" Jimin raised an eyebrow, one hand still tightly clasping Y/N's hand as she kept quietly in her seat. She really just wants to go home and forget this whole evening ever happen.

"Maybe... not see each other for a while?" Jimin immediately shakes his head.

"That's not possible either. I'm not going to do that," Jimin rejected the idea straight away. Between his pack schedule and tours, they already dont have much time together as it is. There is no way in hell he is going to spend time away from Y/N more than neccessary. Even if he wanted to make the situation better, he dont think his heart is able to do it. He take a glimpse at the terrified Y/N. Even under all this circumstances, Y/N still manages to make him smile. God, even he dont know why this particular girl have so much effect on him.

"Jimin, you are not helping here," the managers sighed in frustration. They are just going around in circle, and at this rate surely nothing can be concluded.

"Dont you get it? You having a girlfriend right now is not ideal! You and your members are one of the most wanted idol in the industry right now. Your fans will be devastated. You will lose fans. Some might even start to hate you. And she," the manager points to Y/N, "is going to get a lot of hate Jimin. Cant you understand this?" Jimin nodded.

"I understand perfectly hyung. But I'm willing to go through anything and everything as long as I can be with Y/N," the four men sighed in frustration at Jimin's respond. After a moment of silence, the PD pushed his chair with a screeched, standing up and looking at Jimin one last time before walking out.

"Fine. Have it your way then. But dont say we didnt warned you Jimin,"

I'll be your soldier, fighting every second of the day for your dreams girl So don't stress, don't cry, we don't need no wings to fly Just take my hand

Things have never been worse for the two of them. Everything Y/N had predicted that will happen if they got together happened. And other worst things too. Out of all the things that she predicted will happen, what she doesnt expect the most is how Jimin's own band members stop supporting his decision to continue dating her.

The hate mail, hate comments, death threats, attempts in hurting her to try to get her to stop dating Jimin; yes, it all hurts her, but its all tolerable. Y/N even received a dead bird and rat in her mailbox a few times, but she quietly just disposed it without telling Jimin. Anything the world throw at her, she will take it. Its all worth it if it means she gets to be with Jimin in return. All of these were nothing to her, because she was on the receiving end and not Jimin.

It becomes too much for her when she heard first hand how the other members talked to Jimin about her. Dont get her wrong, they love him. Its her that they hate. The girl who ruined their brother's life.

"I dont see what's so special about her that you are fighting this hard for her Jimin. Your fans are upset. Cant you see that?" Yoongi shakes his head.

"Yeah. They never shouted at us before Jimin, this is the first time it ever happen. Dont you care about what they think?" Jin supported what Yoongi just said, referring to the recent events when the fans actually chanted at their concert for Jimin to leave Y/N during his solo performance.

"Jimin, I know right now it seems like Y/N is the best thing that's happening to you. But dont you remember what you had worked hard for all these years? Are you really willing to destroy all that just for some girl?" Namjoon try a different approach by reasoning with him. Jimin is a reasonable person, he would listen right?

"I hear what all of you are saying hyungs. But I'm sorry, I cant give her up. All this will pass. Our fans will get over it," Jimin answered back quietly. Y/N who has been listening quietly from her room feels her heart breaks at Jimin's defeated voice. The boys had come over for a visit, and thinking Y/N is still sleeping since she fell sick since a few days ago, they start to talk about the real reason why they were there. Little do they know that Y/N has been listening to them all this while.

"Chim... you know I love you right?" Taehyung suddenly spoke after the boys stayed quiet at Jimin's answered. "We have always been through everything together since our trainee years. It hurts me to see you hurt and unhappy Chim.  I thought you said this relationship makes you happy, but it doesnt seem like it anymore. Is it all really worth it?" Taehyung placed a hand on Jimin's thigh, asking for an answer.

"I am happy Tae. I'm happy when I'm with her. Its what the world is throwing at us that makes me upset," Jimin raised his head to look at Taehyung and turn to see the rest of his brothers seated around the room with gloomy faces. "And it makes me sad that I dont have the support from you guys," he lowered his gaze.

"You know I always support you Chim. In whatever you do, I will always have your back," Taehyung replied back quietly. "But as much as we care about you... I hope you care about us too. Please remember that your decision hurts us too," he added softly before each and every one of them gets up and leave the apartment. Y/N slide down the door of her bedroom, shattered with tears after listening to what Taehyung said. Out of everybody she knows Jimin loves, its a fact that he values Taehyung's opinions the most. Taehyung is his best friend, his soulmate. Taehyung never really interferes with most things thats happening around him, always minding his own business, but once he decides its time to say something, Y/N knows it will hit home.

And the fact that Kim Taehyung told Jimin that his decision makes it seems like he doesnt care about them and hurts all of them too, she knows that it will break his heart to pieces.

Its time for her to speak up and do something about it.

She has to end this.

/////

"Chim? Can we talk?" Y/N fiddled with her fingers nervously. Its been hours since the boys left and the two of them are now watching a movie together while eating some take out. Jimin smile through his food and turned to her.

"Of course you can baby. What is it?"

"I...urm.. are you happy?" Jimin immediately sat down his takeout box and turned his body to her.

"Of course I am. You know I'm happiest when I'm with you Y/N. Why are you even asking me this? Is something bothering you?" Y/N turned his gaze away from him.

"I.. I heard your conversation with the boys," Jimin immediately grabbed her hand.

"Y/N. What they said doesnt matter. I-"

"It matters to me Jimin," Y/N cutted him off. Its time for Jimin to listen to her now. "I think what they are saying is right," she spoke so softly while looking into his eyes. "You think you are happy with me, but I dont think you are anymore. I know how much you value their opinions Chim, and knowing you are hurting them must hurt you. I know it is," Y/N insisted when Jimin tried to protest. Jimin sighed.

"I hate how I can never lie to you. You knew me too well Y/N," Jimin runs his hand over his face. "But that is also what I love the most about you. You gets me in a way that no one can, and I cant loose you. I love you. I need you to be with me Y/N," Jimin sounded so defeated.

Y/N had never once cried, despite all the hate and shit that has been thrown at her. Jimin's love had always made her strong. But not this time. Jimin is hurting, and its killing her.

"Hey, hey. Dont cry Y/N. I know everything doesnt seems like it now. But it will be,"

"How can I not Jimin?" Y/N wailed. "You are hurting. And I hate that I'm the cause of it,"

"Baby... dont say that," he wiped her tears. "You dont understand. You think I'm hurting. And maybe at some point you were right. But baby, everybody hurts sometimes. That's what makes us human. That's what makes us feel. That's what make us love better. Its what makes me love you better,"

"I dont want you to lose anything because of me Jimin. I feel like I'm clipping your wings, holding you back from achieving something much more wonderful," she sniffled. Jimin's words made a mark on her and she knows that even if one they were not fated to be together, right now, she believes Jimin truly loves her.

Y/N gave him a look when Jimin chuckle. How can he even thought of smiling in this situation?

"Holding me back? You? How is that even possible baby?" He chuckled louder. He turned his body completely, locking eyes with hers. "You dont need to think about things like that. Dont stress yourself out with things that is not even possible. And dont you ever cry again because of me. If you feel like you are clipping my wings, then let me tell you this. I dont need wings to fly Y/N. All I need is you. So promise me that you will take my hand now and love me forever, and I am already flying higher than any angel in heaven," Jimin chuckle lightly and pinched her cheeks. "My adorable crybaby. I love you,"

"I love you too Jimin," Y/N whispered as she hugged him tight before planting a deep long kiss on his lips.

I don't know if this makes sense, but you're my hallelujah

Y/N thought everything is finally going well after their talk the other day but she obviously thought wrong when she opened her door to revealed six faces looking at her.

"Hey...hey guys. Come in," Y/N open the door wider to let them in, which they did in silent.

"Jimin is not here,"

"We know. He's sleeping at the dorm. We told him we are taking a break from practice," Jin answered with a serious tone. Y/N just nodded and motioned for them to sit in her crammed living room.

"I think you know why we are here," Namjoon tries to start the conversation.

"Ye...yeah. I have an idea. But guys, Jimin and me already talked. And I dont think its my place to discuss this with all of you,"

"If you and Jimin are still together, then it doesnt matter if you have talked!" Yoongi harshly interjects, making her flinched at his cold tone.

"Hyung!" Taehyung sent him a glare. "Dont be so harsh on her. We are here to talk to her remember?"

"Tae's right hyung. Calm down," Namjoon try to soothe the situation. "We are sorry Y/N. You know how Yoongi hyung usually is," Y/N nodded.

"But really Y/N, we are here to ask you, no, to beg you, to break this relationship off," Jin bluntly state their real intention, catching Y/N off guard. How is she supposed to respond to that?

"Hyung!" Namjoon warned him before turning to Y/N. "What Jin-hyung is trying to say Y/N, is that we need your help to do this. Jimin sure as hell wont do it. But your relationship is hurting him Y/N. Its hurting the both of you and you can see it too," Namjoon explained. "Jimin is constantly emotionally and physically tired.  He used to look so happy performing on stage, now the fans are always chanting for him to leave you Y/N. He lost all desire to even perform, his passion! How is that healthy for him Y/N?"

Y/N nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Please Y/N. Even I cant help to cheer him up anymore. This relationship is making him more miserable than its making him happy," Hoseok pouts.

"Yes noona. Jimin hyung is no longer himself. Its weird," Jungkook finally speaks up. Y/N just lowered her eyes to her lap. What is she supposed to do now?

"Y/N... you know its nothing personal on you right?" Taehyung walked over and took a seat beside her. "We would ask the same thing if it happens to any one of us. We do this because we care about Jimin. We know the two of you love each other very much, but right now is just not the right time. Y/N, if your love for each other is really true, doesnt that means you will be together again someday?" Taehyung held her hand. "We are not asking you to not be with Jimin forever. Hell, we think you are the perfect match for him. You are the only girl that can make him chase you for a whole year!" Taehyung laughs making Y/N let out a small smile at the memory. "But we just need you to return our Jimin back to us for now. Dont let him waste something he has worked so hard for just for him to ended up regretting choosing your relationship over it one day," Taehyung added softly.

"I think we have made our point here. The rest is up to you Y/N," Namjoon nodded at her before motioning for the rest of the boys to leave.

Y/N didnt leave her spot on the couch even after they were long gone. Their words kept repeating in her head and after thinking things through for the millionth time, she finally makes her decision as she wiped a stray tear from her eyes.

/////

"Arghhhh," Jimin threw her phone on his bed and run both of his hand through his hair.

"What's wrong hyung?" Jungkook peeks his head through his door.

"I tried calling Y/N for the whole damn day but she's not picking up! My texts to her is not even delivered! I went to her house last night but I cant get in, she changed her lock code without telling me! What the hell is happening Kookie? Why is she avoiding me? She was fine the day before. What could have happened between 48 hours? What did I do?!" Jungkook gulped as he turns to look at Taehyung who is also nervously listening from the living room.

Oh, they know very well what had happened all right. Apparently Y/N immediately decides to take action right after their visit, disconnecting all communication with Jimin without giving him a single reason or space to talk her out of it. But there is no way Jungkook is going to tell Jimin that. Sure, he might be the strong golden maknae, but no one will be able to withstand a punch on the face from a man in love. So nope, Jungkook is definitely not going to be the one who's going to tell him.

"Maybe she's busy hyung. Isnt it exam season soon?" Jungkook try to reason, hoping Jimin would believe him.

"No. It cant be. No matter how busy she is before, she never cut me off like this," Jimin suddenly turn to face the maknae, eyes bewildered. "What if she's breaking up with me Jungkook?!"

"Urm..ah.. why would she do that hyung? I dont think she would. There's no reason for it... right?" Jungkook is starting to really regret coming in to ask Jimin if he's alright earlier as nervous sweats starts to lined his forehead. Lucky for him, Jimin is too disheveled to noticed how guilty he looks.

"I dont know! We had a talk the other day. She seems like she wanted to but I convinced her otherwise. I thought we are okay! Damn it, I shouldnt have left her in the house alone!"

"Give it a few days hyung. Maybe she's really is busy," Jungkook tries to calm his hyung down although he knows its definitely not true. Jimin sat himself down on his bed.

"Maybe you are right. I will try to call her again later," Jungkook gave him a small smile and quickly left the room, leaving Jimin alone waiting for the next suitable time for him to try again.

Its been two weeks. And he still havent hearf from Y/N. And Jimin is going crazy.

Why is Y/N doing this to him? He cant focus on anything else. He just need some sort of answer from Y/N. Where is she? Is she okay? What had happened?

His phone beeped while he was laying down curled into a ball on his bed and he quickly picked it up to see a text from Y/N. Like a mad man, he hastily clicked open the text. He's not even angry at her, only relieved at this point. He just need to know what happened to her. But what he reads is not what he had all expected.

Stop contacting me Jimin. I'm sorry, but we are over. I am ending this.

The phone dropped from his hand as he slowly stood up, his body having a mind of its own and went to his table, swiping everything to the floor as am attempt to release his frustration and anger. His computer, lamp, papers, books, everything now lay broken on the floor besides him, who is down on his knees with continuous tears streaming down his face, sobbing till his shoulders shakes uncontrollably.

Its over. Y/N had finally had enough and decided to stop loving him. Its really over.

Jimin has always prided in himself for being a tough guy. Crying, especially over love and a girl is definitely not what he used to, but at this current moment, he felt his whole world just crushes down and he has no other strength left except than to cry.

From his opened bedroom door, six pair of eyes witness the heartbreaking scene and look at each other, silently asking one another if they really did the right decision.

Girl you know I got you Us, trust A couple of things I can't spell without you

The boys thought Jimin would get better in time but boy, were they wrong. They knew Jimin had hit rock bottom when during one of their performance where they stop to talk to their fans, Jimin suddenly snatched the microphone.

"Y/N broke up with me. Are you guys happy now?" The fans scream, thinking that Jimin is just teasing them. He lets out a humourless laughter. The other boys try to snatched the microphone from him, sensing something strange, but to no avail. "You guys happy to hear that? Is is a good news for you?" The fans scream even louder although he can hear a few 'No' here and there. "You know, Y/N is my everything," the other boys looked at each other in worry. Namjoon quickly made his way beside Jimin and hissed at him.

"Jimin, stop this!"

"Why hyung?" Jimin spoke through the microphone, making Namjoon stand there akwardly. "They wanted me to break things off with Y/N. And she did. They got what they wanted. Isnt it time for they to finally listen to me instead?" The crowd went silent when they realized what is happening. Jimin is breaking down, and it is not part of an act. "I love Y/N," he turned back to the crowd. "And she loves me too. Well, atleast until all of you convinced her not to," he lets out a sinister laugh. "With her by my side I can do anything. Anything at all. Nothing can get me down, as long at the end of the day I know that she still loves me. But look at me now. I'm completely nothing without her. I hope all of you are happy. Congratulations, you got your Park Jimin back," he dropped the microphone and leave the stage, leaving the crowd speechless at what just happened.

Jimin little stunt went viral in a short amount of time, making netizens everywhere and supportive ARMYs to critisized the too obsessed fans to stop thinking that they own their idol and let them live their life as a normal human being. After seeing how broken Jimin has become, fans and the boys alike are starting to understand the mistake they made by forcing Jimin to break things off with Y/N. All these revelations didnt mean a thing to Jimin, not if he didnt get Y/N back, standing in front of him, telling hin she still loves him.

Jimin locked himself in his room most of the time since that day, not bothering to show up to practice or attending any shows, which causes the management, the boys and even the fans to worry. Jimin ended up suffering from an extremely high fever, thanks to the emotional exhaustion and stressed he faced since losing Y/N. A fever so severe that when Y/N stood in front of him in his room, he thought he is dreaming.

"You are not dreaming Jimin. Its really me," she swiped his sweaty hair off his forehead.

"Y/N? Y/N! You are back! You came back to me!" Jimin quickly got up from his laying down position with a sudden burst of energy, pulling her into a hug. Seeing Jimin's condition is just too much for Y/N too handle. He looks like a mad man who had lost everything. Well, maybe to Jimin, he believed he had.

"Jimin, why are you doing this to yourself? You are supposed to be happier! Reaching for things you cant have when you are with me! That's the whole reason why I left Jimin," Y/N cant stop herself from crying.

"Shhh. Dont cry. I'm okay now. I'm okay now that you are here," Jimin smile as he runs his fingers softly through Y/N's hair. The first smile that graced his face since the last few weeks.

"Stop doing this to yourself Jimin. You are supposed to take care of yourself. You are supposed to fly higher without me!" Y/N is full on sobbing, hitting her tiny hands repeatedly on his toned chest. Jimin catch her arms to stop her.

"I already explained to you multiple times Y/N. And I'm going to tell you again. I cant do anything without you. I cant trust anyone without you. I cant love without you. I am nothing without you. I told you that I can face anything anybody throw at me, as long as you told me you love me Y/N. As long as you stay by my side. What part of me loving you cant you undestand?!" Jimin grabbed both of her arms and shake her, trying to make her see. Jimin's soft eyes suddenly filled with frustration, fear and anger as he looks into hers.

"Tell me you love me Y/N. Tell me right now that you still love me and you will always love me. Tell me you love me or get out from here and dont come and see me again!" His voice low and cold. "If I cant have all of your love then I dont want any other parts of you. So tell me you love me right now or dont come back again," Jimin pleaded like a madman, begging and crying for Y/N to tell him something he wants to hear again and again. With wide eyes Y/N listen to Jimin's rambling. Did she really hurt him to the point he cant trust anymore? She grabs a handful of his shirt in her tiny hands and buried her head in his chest.

"I love you. I love you Jimin. God, I love you so much," Y/N is full blown crying as her tears soaked through his thin shirt. "I'm sorry Jimin. I'm so so sorry," Jimin grabbed her face tightly with both hands, turning her to look into his wet eyes with her own teary ones.

"I forgive you Y/N. God I will forgive anything that you do as long as you tell me that you love me. I fucking love you so much baby," he slammed his lips against her to capture hers in a hungry kiss. Tounges intertwined with each ofher as their tears wont stop streaming, wetting each other faces even more.

Caught up with a mixture of feelings, frustration, lust, anger, love, they both know that this is it. This is their end. They wont ever let anything break them apart anymore.

Never again.

Now we are on top of the world, 'cause that's just how we do

News of Jimin's and Y/N's reconcilement spread like wildfire. Fans are starting to see Jimin slowly returning to his old happy self again and this time they were glad Y/N is somehow a part of it. From being the most hated couple, the two of them become the most adored couple, Jimin's fans finally understanding that Y/N makes him happy, and that they should be happy for him too. Y/N has never felt happier. Their relationship is stronger than ever and they are finally at the top of the world, soaring high into the sky. Jimin was right, they dont need wings to fly, they just need each other.

Man now we stepping out like whoa Camera's point and shoot

Their relationship has been the talked of the town. Everybody is buzzing about how pure and romantic the love between the two is when they think about how Jimin actually went crazy when he lost Y/N. Being in the eye of the public might something Jimin is used to but Y/N is still feeling akward with all the attention. She kept pulling at her clothes and slicking back her hair whenever they were out and all eyes were on them. Jimin thinks that is the most adorable thing in the world.

"Baby, stop," he grabbed both of her hands, locking it with his to stop her from fiddling with her dress. "You look beautiful. You always do. There was never a moment that you dont,"

"You are my boyfriend Chim! Your opinion is biased so it doesnt count. You always think I look beautiful. You said I look gorgeous when I was sick with snort running down my face!"

"That's because its true!" Jimin huffed.

"No its not! But really Chim, I already told you before, I'm not used to all these attention. Look at all the cameras pointing and shooting at us. Can I just not come with you next time?" Y/N plead. Jimin shakes his head and pouts.

"No way. These events are my chance to show you off to the world. Look at the jeaolus looks my hyungs are giving me. They wish they have a girl, but no one would date their crazy ass," he smirked as he pointed to the rest of the members who are waving at the fans behind them while giving the couple various kinds of looks. "And Y/N, I also have told you before that you better get used to it because you are meant to be my girlfriend," he whispered so close to her ear, his warm breath giving her chills. Y/N bite her lips and look at her handsome boyfriend. God, how did she get so lucky. To get someone like him to love her this much. Looking at him waving to the fans and striking a pose for he camera, Y/N found her courage as he held her hand and she knows as long as Jimin loves her, there's nothing she cant possibly handle.

Ask me what's my best side, I stand back and point at you, you

The event was a small private event. Only invited fans and media were attending as its a tiny ceremonial party to celebrate Bangtan's astonishing achievement for the year. When the time comes for the boys to give their speech, Y/N proudly sat at table looking as her boyfriend went up the stage, looking as handsome as ever in his suit with his six other members. Jimin was the the last to talk and he managed to catch her eye and smile at her when he took the mic.

"I think everybody knows its been a rollercoaster year for me. But I'm glad I have these six amazing guys to walk this journey with me. And to our fans, thankyou for always believing in us. We wouldnt be here if it werent for your support," he paused as the fans screamed. Y/N felt so proud. "But I had also been at my lowest this year. And I'm sorry for showing you that side of me. But I promised you are only going to see the best of me from now on, because I have found the best side of me and she's sitting right there," he points to Y/N. She quickly dropped her head as the crowd turn to look at her, 'aww' and cooing sounds are heard everywhere. Jimin knows she hates attention, why is he doing this to her? To make it worse, Jimin start walking down the stage and walk towards her. "And that's why tonight, in front of everyone that is important to me," he kneeled down in front of her.

"Jimin, stop. What are you doing?" She hissed at him, which he only replied with a grin.

"I want to ask Y/N to marry me,"

The crowd gasps, except for the six boys who smile fondly and smirking on stage, already well informed of Jimin's plans. In fact they were the one who helped to plan it.

"So L/N Y/N, will you help to bring out the best side of me forever by being my wife?" Jimin took out a shiny diamond ring from his coat pocket. Y/N was silenced as she was surprised beyond belief, making the crowd to start chanting, "say yes, say yes!"

"They are asking you to say yes Y/N and I strongly believe that you should," he grinned. His voice snapped her out from her shocked and she finally nodded as she jumped and linked her arms around Jimin's neck.

"Yes. Yes I will. Of course I will Park Jimin!"

So I know we got issues baby, true But I'd rather work on this with you Than to go ahead and start with someone new As long as you love me

"Do you think we are moving too fast?" Y/N asked as she lays with her back on Jimin's chest, looking at the glistening ring on her finger.

She's engaged!

She's Park Jimin's fiance. And she cant believed it.

Jimin leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Absolutely not. In fact, I think we are moving too slow," he chuckled when Y/N turned to slapped him on the chest.

"I'm serious Jimin. We havent known each other long. What if you wake up one day and find me annoying or feel that you love me less? What will happen then?" Jimin smiled softly and turned her body to him, making Y/N ended up straddling him.

"I'm not going to say that we wont ever have issues or problems baby. Every couple does. But I swear to you that whatever problem we face we will solved it together," he starts to give her neck slow soft kisses. "I rather work with whatever problems I have with you than lose all this and start all over again with someone new," he kissed her nose. "I give you my promise right now that I wont give up on you. Ever," he leaned his head closer as Y/N tighten her arms around his neck.

"Just as long as you still love me," he whispered one last time before finally closing their lips together.

[patriotsnet]

Can Republicans Vote In Sc Democratic Primary

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/can-republicans-vote-in-sc-democratic-primary/

Can Republicans Vote In Sc Democratic Primary

The Presidential Primary Will Not Use The Familiar Top Two Ballot

Republicans launch Operation Chaos 2020 ahead of SC Democratic Primary

California voters can be forgiven for assuming that political party registration doesnt really matter.

In 2010 voters backed a measure to create the states nonpartisan top two election system, in which all primary voters fill out a ballot with every candidate on it regardless of either the voters or the candidates political party. The top two winners then move on to the general election ballot even if theyre both from the same party.

In races for state legislative and congressional seats, the top two method will still reign on the 2020 ballot.;

But when you vote in the presidential primary, its back to the old partisan system: Democrats on the Democratic ballot, Republicans on the Republican ballot, and so on.

So while voting in California usually goes like this under the top two:

In the presidential primary, it looks a little more like this:

Sanders Warns California Primary Could Disenfranchise His Independent Base

OAKLAND Presidential candidate Bernie Sanders charged Friday that Californias primary system threatens to disenfranchise millions of independent voters whose support he has cultivated in the nations most populous state.

Sanders said Friday during a press conference in Santa Ana that he and his team have been campaigning hard to reach Californias 5.3 million no-party-preference voters, who now represent the second largest voting bloc in the state at 25.9 percent ahead of Republicans, who comprise 23.7 percent.

But in California, where voting has already started ahead of the March 3 election, the Vermont senator said hes concerned that independents are not yet turning out in large numbers.

Each party establishes its own presidential primary rules. In California, Democrats allow independents to participate if those voters request a Democratic ballot, while Republicans have a closed system that requires voters to re-register with the GOP.

Unfortunately, under the current NPP participation rules, we risk locking out millions of young people millions of young people of color and many, many other people who wanted to participate in the Democratic primary but may find it impossible for them to do so, he said. And that seems to me to be very, very wrong.

Sanders himself has long been registered as an independent while serving in Congress, but he caucuses with Democrats and has filed as a Democrat to run twice for president.

How Are Presidential Primary Elections Conducted In California

Qualified political parties in California may hold presidential primaries in one of two ways:

Closed presidential primary only voters indicating a preference for a party may vote for that partys presidential nominee.

Modified-closed presidential primary the party also allows voters who did not state a party preference to vote for that partys presidential nominee.

If a qualified political party chooses to hold a modified-closed presidential primary, the party must notify the California Secretary of State no later than the 135th day before Election Day.

Voters who registered to vote without stating a political party preference are known as No Party Preference voters. For information on NPP voters voting in a presidential primary election, please see our webpage on No Party Preference Information.

Recommended Reading: Are There More Rich Republicans Or Democrats

Effort Underway To Get Republicans To Vote In Sc Democratic Primary

GREENVILLE CO., SC One Upstate group is working to get Republicans to vote in the South Carolinas Democratic primary on February 29.

Karen Martin, the organizer of Trump 2-29, said the group is encouraging Republicans to vote for Senator Bernie Sanders in Februarys primary.

GOP leaders in the Upstate say, the effort is designed to make a point about open primaries.

Trump 2-29 is set to announce their plans during a news conference at Greenville GOP headquarters Thursday morning.

GOP chairs from five counties, and leaders of the Tea Party activist group plan to attend the announcement.

Following the announcement, the group plans to spread their message across Republican social media pages and conservative talk radio shows.

Republican party officials voted in September 2019 to cancel the GOP primary. Party leaders said the cancellation will save taxpayers over $1.2 million.

If There Is Such Evidence I Havent Seen This

Yanna Krupnikov, an associate political science professor at Stony Brook University, told me that even beginning to understand the impact of crossover voting strategies like Operation Chaos or the South Carolina GOPs votes for Bernie Sanders is challenging.

For example, wed first have to assume that partisans would truthfully explain their strategies, she said. Second, wed have to assume a counterfactual of what would have happened if there wasnt any effort by the other party to push a certain candidate. She added she hadnt seen much proof that crossover voting strategies were effective. If there is such evidence, I havent seen this.

Kelly Rader, an associate political science professor at Yale University, agreed, telling me that while crossover voting is common in open primaries, theres little empirical evidence that crossover voters are trying to sabotage the party in the general election. Rather, she said, They seem to be voting for their sincerely preferred candidates. Of the South Carolina GOPs push for Sanders, she said, It seems more like a political stunt to draw attention to the drawbacks of open primaries.

Related

The deeply strange Republican New Hampshire primary, explained

You May Like: 1998 People Magazine Trump Quote

The High Stakes In South Carolina’s 1st Congressional District: Can Republicans Answer

If you have a mail-in absentee ballot:;For it to count,;it must be received by your county voter registration office no later than 7 p.m. Tuesday night.

Options to ensure your vote is counted if you have not mailed it already include personally delivering your ballot to your county voter registration office.

You cannot return your absentee ballot to your polling place. In-person absentee voting ends at 5 p.m. on Monday.

Races to watch: The biggest race in the state is the coastal 1st Congressional District GOP primary that will decide a Republican nominee to take on incumbent Democrat Joe Cunningham.

The candidates are: Bikers for Trump founder Chris Cox, Mount Pleasant Town Council member Kathy Landing, state Rep. Nancy Mace, and Bluffton housing official Brad Mole.;

Residents from parts of Charleston, Berkeley, Dorchester, Colleton and Beaufort counties will decide the nominee.

If no candidate receives better than 50 percent of the vote, a runoff election will be held in two weeks, on June 23.

In the GOP U.S. Senate race open to Republican voters statewide, incumbent Republican Lindsey Graham faces three challengers: attorney Duke Buckner, retired businessman Michael LaPierre and maritime engineer Joe Reynolds.

Heres what else you need to know;about voting:

Where can I learn more about the candidates on my ballot?

A quick and easy online source is the website assembled by the non-partisan League of Women Voters: Vote411.org.

Where do I vote?

S.C. drivers license

Where The Campaigns Stand

With the exceptions of Tom Steyer and Tulsi Gabbard, each of the seven Democratic candidates competing in South Carolina spent more than three times as many days in Iowa than in South Carolina to date. Combined, the candidates have spent over 120 days in the state since launching their respective campaigns. A Winthrop University survey published Thursday the first qualifying state poll released ahead of the South Carolina debate shows Biden remains the front-runner, narrowly leading the Democratic pack by 5 percentage points. Among black voters, Biden holds a 13-percentage point lead over his closest contender, former hedge fund manager Tom Steyer.

Six days from primary day, CBS News’ poll shows Biden 28% support, Sanders with 23% and Steyer with 18%. Here’s where the candidates stand, going into Saturday’s primary election here:

For months Biden consistently held a double-digit lead in every South Carolina state poll. Even when other early state surveys showed that he may have trouble, time and again;he remained the runaway favorite;in South Carolina especially among African American voters. After 4th and 5th place finishes in Iowa and New Hampshire, respectively, some of his South Carolina supporters;have expressed doubts about his prospects.;His second-place finish in Nevada, though distant, may help ease those doubts, though.

Recommended Reading: How Many States Are Controlled By Republicans

Grassroots Group Of Republicans Say They Are Protesting Open Primaries By Voting In Saturdays Primary

COLUMBIA, S.C. – Cole Kazmarski and thousands of other voters in South Carolina will be casting their ballots in the Democratic Presidential Preference Primary on Saturday.

Kazmarski is the Vice Chair for the Midlands Republican Liberty Caucus. “This coming Saturday I plan to vote for Bernie,” she said.

Kazmarski is taking part in Operation Chaos 2020. Some conservative Republicans in South Carolina are protesting open primaries in the Palmetto State by voting on Saturday. “The only thing you have to lose is you get on their mailing list and they spend a little ad money on you in the future.”

Pressley Stutts is the Chairman of the Greenville Tea Party. He is urging fellow Republicans to vote for Senator Bernie Sanders in Saturday’s primary. “We are open and proud about it,” he said.

Stutts said if Sen. Sanders were to become the Democratic nominee, he believes President Donald Trump would have an easier path to reelection.

According to Stutts, their goal is to get South Carolina to switch to closed primaries. He said, “Primaries are a selection process. It’s not until November we actually have an election. There’s a difference between the selection process which should be done by the Republicans and the Democrats.”

Over at the State House today, the discussion of closing primaries took center stage. A Senate Judiciary Subcommittee took up two pieces of legislation that would change primaries in the state.

Most Read

South Carolina’s Open Democratic Primary Means Republicans Can Vote Too

Some Republicans want to sabotage Democratic primary in South Carolina

When South Carolina voters cast their votes in the state’s Democratic primary Saturday, registered Republicans will also be able to show up and vote. Here, the state’s primaries are open, which means all registered South Carolina voters can participate in either party’s primary regardless of political affiliation.;

The South Carolina Republican Party;announced;in September that it would join a list of other states that would not hold a presidential primary this year. Historically, the South Carolina GOP also didn’t hold primaries when Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush were incumbents in 1984 and 2004, respectively.

Now, some South Carolina Republicans and Tea Party activists are encouraging Republican voters to participate in Saturday’s contest. Karen Martin, organizer of the Spartanburg Tea Party, is leading Trump 229 , an effort that’s using social media and word-of-mouth to encourage Republicans to vote for Bernie Sanders on Saturday.;

Joe Biden has been leading the race in South Carolina. Martin said that her small group was hoping to win enough support for Sanders to bump him into first place, above Joe Biden, who has been holding onto a shrinking lead in the state.;

The initial impetus for the group, according to Martin, was “who can we pick to coalesce our votes around that would make the most impact on South Carolina Democrats understanding why they should join us closing their primary?”

Read Also: Compromise Of 1877 Effects

Compromise Got Amy Klobuchar This Far Will It Work In 2020

North Charleston, South Carolina President Donald Trump suggested his supporters in South Carolina cast their primary ballots for Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders during his rally Friday, the second straight Democratic primary in which he’s suggested his supporters get involved.

CNN’s Lauren Fox and Jason Morris contributed to this report.

Republicans Urging Gop Voters To Vote For Sanders In South Carolina Primary: Report

State Republican leaders in South Carolina are urging;GOP voters to vote for Sen. Bernie SandersBernie SandersDon’t let partisan politics impede Texas’ economic recoveryThe Hill’s Morning Report – Presented by Alibaba – Democrats argue price before policy amid scramble Overnight Energy & Environment Presented by the League of Conservation Voters EPA finalizing rule cutting HFCsMORE in the state’s Feb. 29 Democratic primary.

The plan orchestrated by;Greenville GOP chairman Nate Leupp and several other prominent Republican Party leaders revolves around GOP leadership’s belief that Sanders poses the least amount of challenge to President TrumpDonald TrumpOvernight Energy & Environment League of Conservation Voters Climate summit chief says US needs to ‘show progress’ on environmentFive takeaways from Arizona’s audit resultsMORE in November’s general election and its goal of getting the Palmetto State’s Democratic lawmakers to agree to close the state’s primaries.

Bernie Sanders is the most socialistic, liberal candidate running in the Democratic presidential preference primary, Leupp told The Post and Courier. So we feel we can make a strong point that our Democratic state legislators need to help work to close our primaries so it protects them as well as the Republican brand.;

South Carolina has open primaries, meaning;voters don’t have to be associated with a political party to cast a ballot.

Recommended Reading: Gop Lapel Pin

I Dont See That Happening

Ultimately, she hopes that the crossover vote push will cause South Carolina Democrats the same kind of angst that weve had for years and push them toward closing their primary.

I do not think it was a result of our efforts, even if we were as successful mathematically as we could be, that everyones going to agree to close the primaries tomorrow, she told me, but said coverage of their efforts was already getting traction with Democrats in the fight for closed primaries.

I asked whether Martin was concerned that a Sanders primary victory in South Carolina pushed by Republican crossover voters could ultimately result in a Sanders presidency. She took my point, but said, I dont see that happening.

The Iowa caucuses, she said, showed that the people that make the rules in the Democrat party are not going to allow Bernie to be the nominee. Citing debate rule changes and recent remarks by Democratic Party stalwarts like James Carville, she said that there was no way the party would permit Sanders to win the nomination.

The rule makers in the Democrat party are not going to let him be the nominee, so that is not a concern for us.

Will you support Voxs explanatory journalism?

‘operation Chaos’ Leader Hopes Trump Will Support Effort

Greenville County tea party leader Pressley Stutts said he is hoping;Trump will back his “Operation Chaos” effort calling for South Carolina Republican voters to cast ballots for U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders of Vermont.

Republicans for Bernie Sanders:Conservative leaders encourage votes for Sanders because they think it will help Trump

“In my opinion;a;vote for Bernie in South Carolina is a vote for Donald Trump because there’s such a stark contrast between his socialistic communistic tendencies versus Trump’s capitalism,” Stutts said.

Stutts and other Trump supporters who gathered at a restaurant in Columbia appeared Wednesday on “Fox and Friends,” a morning program that the president is known to watch.

Stutts said he believes that Trump is “very well aware;of it now, according to my sources, you know with what we’ve been doing with Operation Chaos.”

Read Also: Did Trump Call Republicans Stupid In 1998

Why You Need To Vote In The Primary Elections

True or false. You only need to vote in the November presidential election and not the primary elections.

FALSE!

For most American voters, the presidential primary elections matter more than the general election. Like Ive said before, if you live in a red state or a blue state, your vote in the presidential election wont make a difference. The rest of your state will overwhelming vote for a Democrat or a Republican. Your vote wont change your states outcome. .

But the primary elections are an entirely different story.

The presidential primaries determine who will represent the Republicans and the Democrats during the November election. Instead of voting between just 2 candidates, you have the choice of 3 Democrats or 12 Republicans. Unlike the general election, you actually have a chance of voting for your preferred candidate, not just the lesser of two evils.

United States Senate Election In South Carolina 2022

Federal and state primary competitivenessBallotpedia’s Election Analysis Hub, 2022 See also U.S. House elections, 2022Submit

Voters in South Carolinawill elect one member to the U.S. Senate in the general election on November 8, 2022.

The election will fill the Class III Senate seat held by Tim Scott , who first took office in 2013.

Also Check: Trump Triangle Pin

How Parties Can Enact 17

17-year-old primary and caucus voting does not require state legislative action.;Many states adopting this policy have done so by state law, but others have by changing state party rules.;

State parties have broad authority over their nominating contests.

They may request to allow 17-year-old primary voting by asserting their First Amendment freedom of association rights.

Primary voting rights for 17-year-olds is legal and does not change the voting age.

Only those 17-year-olds who will be 18 by the general election may vote in the corresponding primary election or caucus. FairVote’s proposal treats the nomination contest as an integral part of the general election in which these citizens can vote.

The 26th Amendment prevents states from denying suffrage to 18-year-olds, but does not prevent states from establishing 17-year-old primary and caucus voting.

What Is A Voter

S Carolina Democratic primary: Republicans plan ‘Operation Chaos’

The Top Two Candidates Open Primary Act, which took effect January 1, 2011, created voter-nominated offices. The Top Two Candidates Open Primary Act does not apply to candidates running for U.S. President, county central committees, or local offices.

Most of the offices that were previously known as partisan are now known as voter-nominated offices. Voter-nominated offices are state constitutional offices, state legislative offices, and U.S. congressional offices. The only partisan offices now are the offices of U.S. President and county central committee.

Recommended Reading: How Many States Are Controlled By Republicans

[captnbarnesrogers]

A Kingsman and Statesman Affair

Pairing/Characters: Eggsy Unwin/“Galahad” x Reader/“Moonshine”, Merlin, Statesmen, OFC “Cheska Aragon”, OFC “Senator Ascott” Warnings: Beginning of smut but no explicit smut, blood, violence, angst, assumed character death, kidnapping Summary: When a Statesman and Kingsman work together, all seems to be a success but when a mission fails and a Statesman goes down, one Kingsman feels like he loses everything. Word Count: 2.4k+ A/N: THIS IS MY FIRST EGGSY FIC GO EASY ON ME  AND GIVE ME FEEDBACK PLS!!! THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE GOLDEN CIRCLE BC I HAVENT SEEN IT AND I HAVE NO GODDAMN IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON I do kinda bc I read the wikia page

I’M MAKING AN EGGSY/TARON TAGLIST DIRECT MESSAGE ME TO BE ON IT <3

Eggsy entered the doors of the large building, if not made obvious enough by the horridly big sign outside, that was the Statesman building. He chuckled and wondered to himself if they could be any more discreet. He walked with the umbrella in one hand and was suddenly greeted by Agent Tequila who leads him up to the last floor. As the doors of the elevator opens, your eyes meet with Eggsy’s.

“Agent Moonshine.” Tequila greets you with a pat on you back which you return with a smile. You turn back to meet the smirking face of the British Kingsman,

“Agent Galahad, it’s nice to see you not on a computer screen.” He laughs at you and nods his head, you hand him a martini and he thanks you. Tequila and Champagne look at you both suspiciously,

“You two know each other?” Champagne asks,

“C’mon, Champagne, it’s not my first time on their side of town.”

“She’s a great Agent,” Eggsy begins, smirk still placed upon his face, “she’s very… Attentive, you could say.”

“Ain’t you just flattering, Galahad?”

“Is it really a form of flattery if it’s true, love?”

“Okay?... How many times did you go to his side of town?” Tequila asks with a scorned face, “Cause I’m real grossed out, I think y’all are talkin’ ‘bout doin’ the do.” You looked at Eggsy, only to catch him looking at you intently, gulping the rest of his martini,

“She came about five times.” Merlin spits out the gulp of whiskey he was about swallow as he let out the comment, “The shop, she came into the shop.” You bit your bottom lip, giving Eggsy a suggestive smile,

“Christ, Galahad!” Merlin exclaims, “You didn’t do it inside any of the fitting rooms, did you!?”

“Y/N?” He ate the garnished olive from the silver stick, giving you one of his winks that always got you in trouble – in the good sense of the word. You smiled but then cleared your throat and passing a file around the table.

Agent Champagne began to explain the mission at hand but you could tell Eggsy wasn’t listening. You felt his stare burning against your skin and he wasn’t even close enough to touch you. You tried to focus yourself but failed incredibly and only ended up biting your lip. Unlike Eggsy, you were in fact attentive, just as he said you were. You understand what you had to do and got up from your seat to get ready. Merlin elbows his fellow Kingsman,

“D’ya understand that, you moron?” Merlin asks with furrowed eyebrows,

“Understand, what?”

“Bloody idiot… If you’re gonna look at her like you’re gonna eat her and not do it discreetly, you might as well just grab her from across the table and eat her right in front of us!” Eggsy stands up from his seat and straightens out his suit,

“I like this girl enough to do just that but I think it goes against the whole ‘Manners Maketh Man’ thing, ya kno’?” He grabs his umbrella and runs after you, leaving Merlin to deal with Champagne and Tequila.

He sees you strutting through the office in your black pencil dress, your glasses covering your face, and a clipboard in your hands. He feels as though you couldn’t feel his presence but he knows better. He knows that you know his every move. Other than Harry, you are the only person who knows how he moves, speaks, and thinks. Like he had mentioned before, you were an attentive person and it was nothing less than true.

He had met you a few years beforehand, at a mutual mission, from each agency. It wasn’t their intentions for both of you to meet but as fate would have it, you did and or a few months you were seeing each other secretly. Of course, you lost excuses to go back to London and as did Eggsy to fly all the way to America. There were phone calls here and there, which you both liked. Before you knew it, you both knew this was something more than casual but both parties refused to admit so.

“Eggsy, I can feel you following me.” You chattered, laughing at him and waving your pen to the space beside you, suggesting for him to start walking beside you,

“And I thought I was bein’ casual.”

“Lately you’ve been sucking at that job.” You laughed. Suddenly, with one push, both of you are led into an unlit closet, “What are you doing?”

“This dress is drivin’ me mental.” He begins to attack your neck with kisses, making you moan and roll your eyes back, “Do you always dress like this?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“That is fuckin’ sick.” You giggle and grabbed him with desperation, leading him to your lips and kissing him roughly. As you jump on him and wrap your legs around his waist, the voice of Agent Ginger rang through the hidden speakers of the closet,

“You both best be getting dressed.” She says,

“Fuck!” You both shriek, making you jump off of him and straightening your dress and Eggsy unwrinkling his suit, “Uh… Thank you Ginger, we’ll see to it.”

“Ginger?” He looks at you puzzled,

“Agent Ginger Ale.”

“Right.”

You both exit the closet in an orderly fashion, no one even taking notice of your sudden appearance in the hallway. Your Kingsman looks around to spot for any wandering eyes and when he finds none, quickly slaps your ass, making you yelp a teasing laugh and playfully slapping his arm.

You put on a sheer white top, a white tube top underneath, and tucked it into black dress pants. You tapped your shoes together to reveal a hidden knife and clipped your inconspicuous knife hair pins into your hair. You attached a watch (similar, if not almost the same, to the Kingsman watch) on your wrist and grabbed your gadget wired bag from the hook before exiting the room.

Eggsy looked at you with an intense look as you came out of your ‘office’, his mouth agape and his airways almost blocked.

“Close your mouth, Galahad, you’ll catch flies.” Merlin addressed with a smirk on his face,

“Merlin’s right, you know?”

“How did you- Wait, you were far away.” Merlin asks in a surprised tone,

“Attentive.” Both you and Eggsy say, making Merlin nod in realisation. You lift Eggsy’s chin to close his mouth while staring into his marvelled eyes and walk over to Champagne to go over the plan once more.

“You… Are… Whipped, Galahad.”

“You can see why, can’t you, Merlin?” Merlin laughs and shakes his head in astonishment,

“C’mon, lad, you better listen in on the conversation so you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

Arriving at the secret hide out of your newly found villain, you introduced yourselves as Mr and Mrs. King to the female who awaited your arrival. You smiled at her and entered the glass building with your ‘husband’. You were led downstairs where rocks became walls and the true light of the sky had disappeared. Stopped at the glass doors downstairs, a woman with blonde hair came out in a lab jacket.

“Mr and Mrs. King!” She said with excitement, giving the both of you a firm hand shake. She pushed up her thick glasses that almost magnified her eyes and sneezed repeatedly, “My name is Cheska Aragon and your donations are deeply appreciated.” She sniffled, wiping her nose and giving you a wide smile, exposing her gold covered bicuspid tooth,

“Well, when my husband and I see hard see hard work, we love to appreciate it.” You say with a sweetly fake voice which is obviously isn’t heard to a normal person’s voice, especially if that person only wants money,

“Three million dollars as an investment is so much more than I expected!”

“We’ll make it official once we see your projects.” Eggsy laughed, grabbing the spare lab coat from her offering hands. You both slip on the lab coats and Cheska leads you into the brightly lit room where bodies and bodies of people laid on steel tables, connected to wires and tubes. You rarely became nauseous about anything, being a Statesman came with more blood than inside your own body, but the sight of the pale faced, cold lipped, lifeless bodies struck something in you. You jumped in surprise as you felt Eggsy’s hand rubbing your back.

She leads you both to the last table and holds her hands out, presenting to you both the creation she had made.

“With one click of a button, these people will serve to command me and you, if you choose to invest in me,” she begins, “I created them to kill people, you see, people who get in my way.”

“And you did that how?” Eggsy asks,

“Mr King,” she takes out two large needles from her pocket and smiles. One injection was filled with green liquid, the other with red, and the needle was thick and could probably cut through your hair, “I have spent ten years creating these and after all this time, as you can see, it has worked.” She turns around and opens an unseen door behind her, grabbing a man almost twice her size and setting him in front of her, “This is Connelly, he tried to commit homicide and failed because I caught him.” She laughed, evilly. His hands were tied behind his back and duct tape covered his mouth, he yelled at the both of you through his taped mouth, “This blue needle,” she stuck it in his arm, making you jump slightly, “initially it disintegrates the prefrontal cortex, it gets rid of his memories,” the man begins to shake, “it also triggers the emotion of anger in his amygdala and finally, this red needle, if need be, if they lose control of themselves,” she sticks it into his neck and presses down to secrete the liquid into his body, “kills them in just five minutes.” She smiles at you maliciously,

“I have one more question for you, Cheska.” Cheska nods at Eggsy, fiddling with her fingers, “You know, before we close this deal,” he chuckles, “are you keeping Senator Ascott in this building?” Cheska’s face falls as she slowly realises that you are not here to invest in her but to destroy her form of investment and as you see her emotions change on her face, you throw one of your hairclips at her, going straight through her hand and keeping her stuck on the door.

“Fuck you, you little bitch!” She hissed, “I will fucking kill you!”

“I love you, too, beautiful.” Sarcastically blowing a kiss at her. You take out your gun and begin to shoot at the Cheska-made ‘soldier’, wiping them out in under three minutes. Eggsy winks at you as you both take out the last two soldiers at the same time. You look over at the door where you flung your knife only to find a bloody stream and no Cheska, “Eggsy, she’s gone.” He looks around for her and as he turns around her sees her behind you with a red liquid-filled needle,

“NO!” He yells as Cheska injects you with the lethal needle. He shoots her in the head, her blood splattering all over the floor, and runs to you laying on the ground. He begins tapping your face and caressing your cheek, “C’mon, love, with me here.”

“I’m feeling…” You pant, “so sleepy.”

“You can’t- MERLIN!” He yelled through his earpiece, “Merlin, Merlin, I’m losin’ her, man!”

“Hey, y-you ain’t going soft on me, a-are you? I-I dug the whole sexy spy thing.” You said in a broken chuckle as Tequila and Merlin burst through the door, “I only have t-three minutes left, Galahad,” You caress his cheek and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips, tears landing on your soft skin, “I guess, you’re alright.”

“Galahad, we gotta take her in.” Eggsy nods and they quickly carry you into the car. As the engine starts, your eyes close and you lose your consciousness.

You inhale deeply and fail to recognise the scent of the room. As you open your eyes, you look down and see a cannula stuck in your arm. Across the room you see Eggsy, Ginger, and Merlin having a chat.

“I could go for some water.” You stated and suddenly, the room silenced. Heads turned to you and Eggsy came running beside you, taking your hand in his, “Hey.”

“You alright?”

“I’m thirsty.” He chuckles and grabs a cup and a jug of water, filling it up and handing it to you. You gulped it down and wiped your mouth, “Thank you, Eggsy.”

“Thank God, you’re okay! We thought we had to replace the Moonshine.” Ginger says,

“I ain’t goin’ away that quick… Well, almost.”

“She failed to complete the mixture of the poison from the flower she used, luckily, we found an antidote just in time, you were gone for thirty-one seconds, Moonshine.” Merlin explains,

“We’re off duty, you can call me Y/N, Merlin.”

“Alright,” He taps Ginger on the shoulder and leads her near the door, “it’s good to have you back, Y/N.” They both exit the room, leaving you and Eggsy alone in a quiet room, which in usual circumstances would lead to unspoken things but in this instance, led to a tear slipping out of his eye,

“Hey, Eggsy, what’s wrong?” You ask concerningly, caressing his cheek,

“You were gone for thirty seconds, thirty seconds, Y/N, and it felt like a life time- I- It felt like I lost a part of me.”

“I’m here now, I’m okay.”

“I know and I don’t think I’ve been happier but I have to tell you something.” He helps you sit up and you’re ready for him to end things with you. You understood why he would and you nodded as a gesture for him to continue, “Look, I know- I know we started this just for fun and I understand, I do, if you don’t feel the same way-”

“Eggsy, I understand but I can’t handle you leaving me right no-”

“Wait… what?” He straightens his posture,

“That’s what you’re doing isn’t it? You’re ending things?’’ He begins to chuckle and rests the bridge of his nose in between his thumb and pointer finger, “What?”

“I think that injection made you a bit dim.” He leans in and kisses you, “I’m try’na tell you I love you.”

“Oh… OH!” He nods as he stares into your eyes, “I love you too, Eggsy.”

“I don’t think have the power in me to leave you, ever.”

“Good, ‘cause I couldn’t handle it, ever.” You smile, pulling him for another kiss.

MASTERLIST

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @winchester-negan-one-shots @stevette60 @marvelous-fvcks @marvel-fanfiction @potterhead1265 @zoejohnson8 @frickin-bats @iamwarrenspeace @kenmen02 @captianwintersoldier @noelia8villa @bucky-bear-barnes @hollycornish @capsheadquaters@duncedgoofball @abouttimefortea @buchananbarnestrash@minervaem @barnes-heaven @buckyywiththegoodhair@mellifluous-melodramas @heartmade-writingbucky@hellomissmabel @justanotherbuckydevotee @alphaabucky@firebendergirl33 @naenae87 @sunnyfortomorrow @aya-fay@terraling @topthis808 @savebxrnes @lediskogirl​ @mizzzpink

[effervescentmind]

Entry 24: 04.14.20 @ 11:40 p.m.

I’m in my room, sitting in my green armchair with my laptop on top of stools.

Alright. it’s been four days and I have a little bit of tea and thoughts to share. I’ve been teaching myself some coding for a little over a month and, a few weeks ago saw a tweet that Stanford (University) was offering a free programming course. I followed the link to a website stating that the class was a five-week intro programming course. They have this awesome program called Karel. It’s very similar to Python. Stanford wanted to offer it to a small amount of people to test run something they were working towards in the future. They also stated that it wouldn’t be considered college credit as for the instructors were volunteering. I figured it would be good to apply and get some more computer science knowledge. I applied and had to read some material to solve three programming problems. They also gave you a bonus one that took me about four hours to figure out. I videotaped my solution because I was so proud of myself lol. 

When I submitted my application, I received an email stating that I would receive an email by the tenth. Forgot to mention that I did this on the fourth. I got the email on the eleventh stating that I was accepted and apologizing for the late response. I was so happy! I went through my profile and finished setting up my account. It really feel like this was a sign for me. I mean before I decided to go this route, I never saw things online about technology. I’m more of an animal lover/philosophy nerd type. But as soon as I decided to learn a new skill, those things started appearing in my life. I don’t know maybe it’s not a sign, maybe it’s the government or an algorithm spying on me lol. 

Anyway, the class started yesterday, and I really like how they set everything up, the organization of the lectures and inbox. The Inbox functions like a live chat/thread. There are specific tags added to each new thread which can be clicked to show other threads with the corresponding tags. It’s cool but flawed in one aspect. On Mondays and Wednesdays, they schedule to have a question live time. You get to ask the Instructor whatever you want but instead of a live video chat or a room, they are using the thread. So, the teacher made a new thread, and everyone has to comment on it to ask questions. Its very hard to keep up when 3000 people are online asking shit at the same time. There are a million new notifications and some people are just ass kissing or asking stupid questions that aren’t about the class. Hardly any of the important questions get answered because there are too many people commenting. 

They have split up all the students now and have assigned chat time with an Instructor. Mine will be on Thursday at 4. I don’t know how many people are in my group but I’m hoping it’ll be a better experience than that thread craziness. Also, when people comment on any thread or make a thread, you get a notification. It pops up on the right sign of the screen, blocking half of any message or comment you are currently reading. And you can’t turn it off, it’s so irritating. But the Instructors are nice, organized and knowledgeable. I really enjoy Karel. It’s fun and challenging.

 Our course required us to download python and use Karel within it. It’s like programming inception lol. They sent us a guide on how to download it, set it up and gave us a link to our first assignment. Karel was supposed to be opened in Python and prewritten codes had to be solved. I had a difficult time getting everything downloaded correctly and finding the assignments but managed to import them into Python. I just haven’t been able to do my assignments because I can’t pull up the Karel world that displays, you’re coding. I could write a code, but I won’t know what Karel is actually doing without seeing it move. 

I created a thread asking for help with my issue and have had no luck. People keep asking me if I downloaded Python correctly. I did. And some people proceed to explain how to import the projects and worlds which I clearly did because I’m asking about the damn assignment!! People just comment to see themselves comment. Luckily, we will be able to use Karel on its own starting tomorrow. Well, at least that’s what one of the handouts said. I hope so because I really want to do this course and practice. 

[perfectionistincrisis]

-2-

now this sucks. the patient my friend had to write a case report about was a very very sick one with a lot of problems. i dont know if he could talk. so he had a maid with him at the hospital. his parents used to visit him. when my friend went to take history, she found the maid and she figured that the maid must speak in hindi or bangle which i would be able to understand so i could help her because the maid didnt know english or arabic well. so i went to the washroom and as soon as i came out she just pulled me to the patients room and goes like, help me please ‘-’ and i was totally cluless. i had no idea what was the nationality of the maid but when she saw me she started talking in hindi which i understand but find difficulty in talking though. so i kind of managed to translate whatever i understood. and then suddenly i notice bangla writings on a paper the maid was holding so i asked her if shes bangladeshi and she said yeah. so i told her im bangladeshi too and bam. she asked me where im from in bangladesh and i told her so and she started telling where she is from. but to be honest i dont know much about bangladesh nor do i have any interest about the country. to add to that i was born here and i sued to visit there during vacations and it has been around 3 years i havent been there either thank god. anyways so before she could keep talking about bangladesh, i told her that i was brought up here so i dont know much about bangladesh. 

She then asked me the. most. weirdest. question. Eveeeeer

she asked me if i am a muslim? 

well it was the most weirdest thing for me, cause i dont think i ever heard that question being asked to me ever. infact, sure as hell, this is not a question id expect in a million years if i am in my hijab. well i got shocked and i looked at her and made a face and i was like ‘yes’ and then she started to ask me, then why am i wearing these clothes? - Okay, so i was wearing scrubs and a labcoat on top just to be clear - and i was like, ‘what type of clothes?’ and shes goes like ‘these. you are supposed to wear an abaya on top of it. muslims shoudnt wear these’ - so after she said that i just looked away from her and towards my friend helping her to figure out what the cartons beside the patients bed were. they looked like liquid supplement to give to the patient. I tried to avoid any eye contact or talk with that lady and kept telling my friend to finish her shit asap cause i want to leave. well then all of a sudden the lady asked me - did you mind what i said? i said so because as muslims you have to cover and ---- and i interrupted her asking ‘we have to what?’ so she said ‘we have to cover’ and i went like ‘so am i not covered?’ and she went like, - but your clothes are not loose, you have to wear an abaya on top of these. - and I just looked away again. and then my friend had some more ws to ask her about the patient and then we left. I didnt talk to the lady anymore. 

what she said was stuck in my head. Not because i was worried if i am covering properly or not. but because i felt like she had no right to tell me how i should be dressing. she barely know a single thing about me. she has no idea about my commitment to my God. she has no idea how much effort i personally put to maintain whatever ‘hijab’ i follow. She does not know the struggles i face daily. She has no idea about my life. 

I think it was totally inappropriate for her to throw her opinion on me like that. I am knowledgeable enough to know very well what my religion asks for, and I know very well how much of it I am being able to follow and how much of it i am not being able to do so. But the thing is, we are all struggling. Struggling to be better muslims. I have seen many post on social media saying how to not lay out your opinion to people who have problems in following their religion properly. like people who dont cover, but you never know how religious their minds may be in actual. and then there are people who cover but may be they dont even pray the mandatory five prayers a day. I personally have seen a variety of people. so basically you can not  judge someone about their religious commitment just by their look. And I have also read in a lot of places about how not to make it hard for people who just started to do something new in theire religion - like people who start covering newly or something, and then people start commenting on how they are not covering the right way, or people go like this is not enough, you should also cover your face - this is how society pressurizes a person so much that the person starts to feel low and worthless and most of the time they give up whatever good step they had newly taken in getting closer to God. there are some people who sometimes cover, and sometimes they dont - and yet again we find society talking about how they think if someone cant cover themselves all the time, they shouldnt do it at all - and yet again we are demotivating these weak people who instead need motivation from the people around them. 

in fact, to be honest, after that lady said those stuff to me. my mind got totally messed up - i couldnt concentrate on anything for the rest of the day and even the next day. and then i started thinking about the day before. i mean just a day ago i didnt enter an OR because id have to remove my scarf and although i can use a head cap, there were no disposable scarves to wear and so if i would go, id have to go with my neck exposed which i woudnt agree on. and today a random lady wanted to know if i am even a muslim? like am i doing something wrong? that day i came home and i wasnt feeling good at all. and i dont really listen to songs like for two main reasons - one is that i really dont like it being stuck in my head - i dont like the idea of something else having more control over me than my own self. and secondly, and most importantly, i really dont think i can deal with the extra emotion it brings up depending on the song - also ofocurse, its not really recommended in my religion to listen to songs and i think i understand why. but nonetheless, i do feel like listening to songs very often - i however stop myself from doing so. that particular day, when i was feeling really bad at home, i suudenly felt like listening to some music - and i usualy get that feeling when im down or sometimes tooo excited like right after and exam -- and a really common response is -- ugh nah bleh whatever, i can find some better stuff to do -- but that day, i was telling myself that, does it even matter? i mean a lady things i dont even cover properly so maybe i should listen to songs too, what difference does it make, i am a sucky muslim anyways.. 

and then all of a sudden it hit me - that i am letting that lady eat up my head. i cant give her that much power. and then i realized this is what people mean when they keep saying to always encourage every single person who is trying to do something good, even though they might not be doing it 100%. so it took some time, but slowly i got over it. like i said, i personally have seen and know a lot of people and ik how you can not just judge them by the looks. and i personally dont do that. and now that i have felt victim of such a situation, i will make sure i dont let myself feel low if something like this happens again.