#and now with his mental health pretty much being on a steady decline + him seemingly turning more and more monstrous by-

[mad-hunts]

thinking about barton doing baby talk to his kids, even though he was eighteen when marcy gave birth to both matilda + louis and thus was a COMPLETELY different person, is honestly both super surreal to me and also surprisingly... sort of makes sense. because barton can NOT bring himself to be mean around babies; i mean at all, and this man loved his kids so much, which 😭 well — let me just say that his behavior has greatly changed since then, to say the least. though barton still believes he loves them in his 'own way'

[glade-constellation]

Long ass text post here we go. All my thoughts and feelings on the current TSAMS lore.

Just a warning, there are 2496 words under the cut, lmao.

MOON :

(Warning, there is a brief mention of suicidal ideation in this section.)

First off, the whole thing with Moon. I’m personally not the biggest fan of how the fandom is handling his situation, considering he’s most likely dealing with some form of psychotic PTSD. Solar literally died in his arms. That is going to have repercussions on his mental health. He’s not crazy or insane, he is severely traumatized. And it’s not like this was a sudden change in how he behaved, he’s been showing signs of decline since Solar’s death. Monty literally saw Moon hallucinating three weeks before this confrontation happened, and just decided not to tell anyone about it. Jack heard Moon mumbling about his plans for Ruin, but Jack is young and didn’t know how to handle the situation. Moon’s computer saw the signs and also told no one. It’s not like he just snapped. This has been a steady decline built up over months. People were either too scared to share, or saw the signs and just wanted to believe nothing was wrong with him. Moon got this bad because no one tried to help him. It doesn’t help that people are viewing Moon’s self destructive actions at his literal feelings on certain things. Sun literally told Earth that Moon will say rude things to get out of an argument quicker. Everyone is so upset about the things Moon told Earth, but they aren’t understanding that Moon very likely meant absolutely nothing of what he said. He was trying to run, but Sun and Earth were standing in front of the door. He was currently running on the mindset of “hurt someone enough and they will just let you leave”. Earth has every right to be upset that he even said those things, yes, but Moon is not thinking rationally right now.

Some of the stuff he kept repeating really shows how far he’s fallen into his depression. He doesn’t care how much his family currently hates him. He doesn’t care if Solar hates him after he brings him back. He doesn’t care about pretty much anything that isn’t directly related to bringing Solar back. He even said he doesn’t care if he himself dies. He has one goal in mind and is completely blind to everything else. This is suicidal ideation. He may not want to die, but he doesn’t care if he does.

That being said, Moon has crossed so many lines. His morals have been skewed way past what most people consider wrong and right. He’s hellbent on getting Solar back, no matter the cost. He’s genuinely not thinking of anything but his end goal, which is going to, probably literally, blow up in his face. The whole point of why he’s doing this in the first place is to make his family happy, and he’s putting in a lot of effort to make it happen, but isn’t liking the real reaction he’s getting. His family isn’t just upset with him, they are scared of him. Moon may not have heard this, but both Earth and Lunar’s first question when hearing about Moon’s current state was “Is he safe to even be near right now”. Which is a valid question considering how physically violent Old Moon was. Lunar even states remembering these reactions when they used to share a body, and how much it scared him. For being so dead set on reminding people he’s not the Old Moon, it’s almost funny how far he’s crossed the line of what Old Moon did.

Even worse, Moon is using Old Moon’s sacrifice as a way to push his own current ideals. He feels he has a legacy to live up to, considering Old Moon gave his life to save Killcode, and also feels he is failing miserably at it. Killcode still ended up dying later on, Solar died in his arms, his family is still going through hell. He blames himself for everything going wrong, even if we as an audience know none of it is his fault. He won’t stop until he feels vindicated of these “failures”. Eclipse had a comment in a recent episode about how all Moons run on a hyped up sense of ego, and that’s very clearly showing with what Moon’s feeling right now. Moon takes extreme pride in being the protector of the family, and feels he has failed in every way imaginable.

( I would also like to point out how Moon keeps saying he’s getting back a Ruin for what he did, but that’s not even his plan anymore. When Bloodmoon took Ruin, Moon sent Molten after them and said he could have Ruin. Ruin was the whole reason Molten even showed up in the first place. Moon changed trajectory and decided to use Bloodmoon to bring Solar back, because he agreed to let Molten have Ruin if he could find where the two had gone. Bloodmoon may be a reoccurring villain, but he had nothing to do with Solar’s death. He’s honest in mourning as well, over his brother that Moon helped kill. Bloodmoon is a bystander in this situation that is being dragged in unwillingly. Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea considering Bloodmoon is going after Monty, but this feels morally wrong. )

Sun :

This episode showed a lot about how far Sun has come in the past two years. Back when the show first started, Sun would have immediately caved in an argument like this. He would have made a point to get his side across, but his voice would shake and he’d stutter over his words and physically cower away from Moon. Now he faced Moon and very clearly spoke his side of the argument. He walked right up to Moon while talking too. It’s almost got this bittersweet feel, because he’s grown past his trauma with Old Moon, but like. It’s sad that his reaction is what it is in the first place. The moment he learned what was happening with Moon, he acted resigned. Like he knew he was going to be the only one to be able to deal with it. He never should have needed to learn this reaction in the first place.

Eclipse comment about Sun being the most stable in this situation is so sad to me, because it’s true. Sun has spent his entire life dealing with Moon. Most of Sun’s problems that he’s had to deal with, for his entire life, have been due to Moon. It’s the sad truth. Sun woke up, then Moon appeared and straight up told him that he would make his life a living hell. When they finally began functioning as siblings and decided to split bodies, Moon created Eclipse. On top of Eclipse, Moon still acted out and would both verbally and physically berate Sun. When Moon was reset, he then had to deal with Moon misjudging his grief over what he had lost. He’s had years of experience handling Moon and his outbursts. Sun may not be perfectly fine, but he is currently the most equipped to handle this situation.

There’s something poetic about how this current situation parallels Sun’s past. He also dealt with a psychotic episode after he killed Bloodmoon, and was locked in a box as Moon’s attempt to stop him from killing Eclipse. There’s a lot of similarities. I think the biggest difference is simply how Sun is handling this versus how Moon handled it. Moon trapped Sun in a small box that he could barely move around in and stripped him of his magic, leaving Sun completely defenseless. The fact that the box was invisible was probably also not helping with Sun’s hallucinations. Sun was left alone in probably one of the most defenseless positions he could have been left in, and didn’t seem to be planning on ways to help him after Sun was trapped.

Sun is going in with a plan, something Moon didn’t have. He also has help from the rest of the family. What I’m hoping is that Sun won’t do the same to Moon, and that the containment room that gets built is an actual room. I’m hoping Sun plans for after Moon gets captured. Earth probably won’t want to hold a therapy session with Moon after what Moon said to her, but that doesn’t mean they give up on giving him therapy. That doesn’t mean they give up on getting him help. (With the luck of the TSAMS characters, this probably won’t happen, but I wish.)

Earth :

Earth as a character in general is probably the most relatable to me besides Lunar. It sometimes makes talking about her situation hard for me, so I apologize if this section doesn’t do her justice.

It’s obvious that Sun isn’t the only one dealing with revisiting old trauma. Earth has brought it up in many episodes how much she can’t bring herself to trust her own family due to the Creator. She wants to, so badly. She makes excuses for her brothers when she sees signs of them not being truthful, because she wants to believe they would never hurt her that way. She wholeheartedly did not want to believe something was wrong with Moon until Eclipse brought her irrefutable truth.

She’s stumbling. She already deals with a heavy amount of self doubt, and now she is dealing with everything Moon said to her. A lot of who she is is built around this idea of needing to be perfect, to be good at what she does. That was the whole point of why the Creator made her. She is the Better Daycare Attendant. Moon calling her a fake therapist and telling her that she’s bad at what she does tore down that already wobbly sense of perfection. She’s been trying to logic her way through every time she feels herself become imperfect or inadequate, but she can’t work past what Moon told her using the same tactics. Not only is Moon someone whose opinion matters a lot to her, he was blunt in the way he worded things.

Her trust is shattered, her pride is destroyed, and it’s bringing up a lot of past trauma she hasn’t fully worked through. She’s also still dealing with Solar’s death on top of this. The only person who will sit down and listen to her problems, that she is comfortable talking to about them, is Eclipse. He’s one of the most unqualified people to help deal with these problems, in all honesty. Everyone else is either busy or dealing with too much of their own shit. There’s a lot she needs to work through, but there isn’t a clear or easy way to do that. There never really is, but this situation is definitely terrible circumstances for it.

I do think we might see an argument between her and Monty soon. Learning that they kept Moon’s condition a secret did not make her happy. In my opinion, a valid reaction. I don’t really care how good Monty and Moon’s friendship is or used to be. They absolutely shouldn’t have kept this information to themself.

Lunar :

There isn’t much to say for him as he didn’t have a large part in the episode (understandably on Reed’s part). He honestly has so much going on right now that I’m not really surprised by his reaction. It’s just one more thing going on. He’s stressed constantly and can barely handle what’s happening just with his own stuff.

It’s interesting to me that he said the situation would make him cry. Currently, I feel like Lunar hasn’t really cried since he was revived. He’s more prone to bursts of anger nowadays, or just some form of dissociation. Him saying he would cry and talking about his past when sharing a body with Moon feels like falling back on old trauma responses.

I’m interested to see if we get his reaction to this situation in future episodes.

Eclipse :

Obligatory Eclipse mention on my part. I’ve already talked about him recently, but I will always take any chance to talk about my guy.

I absolutely love how he keeps trying to tell himself he doesn’t know why he’s helping. He obviously knows why he’s doing it, he’s just too prideful to admit it. I’m still not over the “I’ve come to learn with Moons, they’re really egotistical. Reminds me of myself.” He is so overly self aware, and finally seems to be at the point of realizing that.

It’s upsetting that there’s a real chance he’s going to leave once Solar is back. Dark made it sound like he was going to have to die in order for Solar to live, which is even worse. Despite Moon saying that no one will ever love him, I do think Earth will mourn him when he’s gone, regardless of if he dies or leaves. There’s a slight possibility Lunar would as well, considering Lunar still has a part of him that wishes for the brotherhood they could have had. After that one conversation in the atrium, Lunar seems to have calmed down a little, and Eclipse has definitely grown a little past where he was.

Solar :

This section is pretty speculative, and more about stuff I couldn’t really fit in Moon’s section that related to Solar. (Warning, this section briefly talks about suicide.)

I am still reeling over what Moon said about Solar’s reaction when he brings him back. The whole line about letting Solar die again if he wants. Like, there are several layers of “fucked up” to that statement.

First, I don’t believe Moon one bit on that statement. I don’t truly believe that Moon would ever, under any circumstance, let any of his family willingly die. He is much too prideful of his role as protector, and he cares far too much for his siblings to let them get that far. He’s also grieving for Solar, I don’t think he’d ever let go of him if they’re able to bring him back. He didn’t let Killcode die when they separated, there’s no way he’s letting Solar right after he gets him back.

Second, that’s not how that works. If Moon brings Solar back, he is then responsible for the life he brought back. Willingly letting Solar die again because Solar wants it is literally enabling suicide. That’s just, no. I wouldn’t ever be able to look at Moon the same if he allowed that.

But I doubt Solar would want that if he was brought back. As much as he’s probably going to hate what Moon’s doing right now, I highly doubt he would throw away another chance at life. He would absolutely respect the effort put into getting him back, even if he didn’t necessarily like the actions taken. I don’t think Moon’s plan is going to work anyways. I really do think Eclipse is going to be the one to pull it off, probably after Moon tries, which is going to cause a lot of things between them.

[derekgoffard]

Colin's older sister is a very small part of his background, however Ive had some characterization down for a while now so I thought I'd make a little post about her 🤲.

Her name is Claire Midland! She has virtually no relationship with Colin and probably does not ever wish to see him again yayyay 👐. She also has those mother issues that make you a bit mean and desperate for comfort all the time but that's okay 👍.

Some extra trivia under the cut 🕊️

( THESE ARE ALL WRITTEN VERY MESSY + INCOHERENT. IM SORRY IF U ATCUALLY TRY READING THIS 😭😭😭😭😭 )

- she went into nursing because she wanted to give others the kind of care and attention she herself craved - however she eventually realized that was not at all the reality of nursing. She kind of hates her job 👹.

- her life revolves around this funny little cycle of her feeling this constant sense that she is unloved, which leads her to constantly be seeking comfort ( physical and emotional ). However she never feels comforted for long, hence the cycle continuessss la la la🤸.

- her favorite thing ever is being coddled, she's a hard worker but she wishes she wasn't.

- She loves flowersss, but she can never keep them alive. Despite this she continues to buy them, only to have them die in days. Her favorite flowers are sun flowers 😊.

- her necklace has her and her mother's birthstones ( emerald and topaz ).

- she's never held a steady relationship for over a year but she has alot of positive one night stands. Not necessarily sex either - usually she just wants to be cuddled and coddled over for a night, y'know how it is ☹️..... Let me tell you what tho her aftercare game is unbeatable LOLLLLLLLL.

- she was a very clingy and emotionally demanding child. ( example; Claire would absolutely NOT enter school without her mother, and so her mom had to sit next to her desk in school for most of her early education ). This was okay for a little while, but when Colin was born, their parents got a divorce, and their already mentally ill mother could not really cope with two children.

- Since Claire was the oldest ( still very very little, like 7 years old )- it fell on her to help her mother, while Colin would bounce between their father and mother. Claire has never had a relationship with Colin, but she secretly blames and resents him for their parents divorce, and their mothers declining mental health. While ofc Colin resents her for basically gatekeeping his own mom LOL.

- Her relationship with her mother is surface level and distant. No matter how hard she may want to- she just can't connect to her mother. Claire is too emotionally taxing and her mother is pretty much unwilling to deal with it at this point. Claire reminds her of the lowest times in her life, and she sees Claire's attachment to her as a failure in how she raised her. She thinks Claire needs to grow out of it by herself. I think her mother does feel guilty about how Claire's childhood turned out- and so she really does think trying to let Claire find her own way is what's best for her.

- oh and also Claire is pretty much the reason Colin received so little attention from her as a child LOL- she would get HIDEOUSLY jealous of baby Colin taking attention from her mother and throw really intense fits about it 👤 I'm thinking she even went as far as trying to hurt Colin in some way. Sorry Colin, no healthy relationship with mom for you. your sister is too emotionally demanding.

- I think she's doing okay now. She's a little unhinged but I'm thinking she has a steady job and nice girlfriend now. I kinda want her to be happy y'know. 🕊️

- unrelated but Claire has not seen Colin since they were young teenagers so she has no idea about his dyed hair or fashion sense. I don't think she'd be able to recognize him to be honest LOL.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Mild Language

Chapter 5

* * * * * * *

“You and Fury seem to forget that I’m retired pretty easily.” You say, eyes focused on your surroundings instead of the man talking to you.

A nice breeze flows past, followed by another crowd of passersby. The street is busy as always at this time of day but you always appreciate the hustle and bustle of the city. Something about it appealed to you. 

New York has always been busy, for as long as you can remember. Admittedly, with the lack of advanced technology in your time, people spent a lot more time talking to each other in passing than they now spend on their phones.

“No one’s forgotten, except maybe you,” Tony says and you turn to refocus your attention on him.“ Or did you forget that it was you who copped a ride with Fury to Sokovia.”

Of course you didn’t forget that. That mission had been more dangerous and life threatening than any one you’d previously been on. 

The man hums and nods, a soft chuckle leaves his lips,“ unless of course you weren’t there for the team.” 

“What?” Your eyebrows pinch together,“ what’re you talking about?” 

“I’m talkin about you and Romanoff.” He leans forward, pushing his coffee cup away a little.“ Clint told me about that little moment you two had before the city fell. What’d you do? Spring to action when you realized Natasha was in danger?”

Your eyes roll but you avoid answering his question. Cause that is actually what you did. On top of being generally concerned with the safety of your friends, your main focus was Natasha. You’d never admit it, out loud, but you know that’s what happened. And you know why you did, even if you won’t admit it at all. 

“Awe, don’t want me exposing your crush on Nat?” He further teases and your nose turns up at him.

“Think I liked you better when you were running around in pjs and building robots and stuff.” He makes an offended face and you smile sarcastically at it.“ If I agree to train the Maximoff kids will you not mention these supposed feelings for Natasha that you assume I have.”

For a moment he looks at you, then nods.“ You’ve got yourself a deal Y/ln. Also,” he pushes his chair back and stands up,“ you’re just training the girl. Rogers apparently has some special plan for Speedy.” Picking up his cup, he claps his hand on your shoulder with extra force, and walks away.

Just as you’re about to slouch into your seat to stay an extra few minutes he calls out for you to come with him and you resist the urge to groan. Sighing softly, you finish your tea and get up. 

As you expected Tony takes you to the tower. His choice of music blasts through the sports car and you can’t help but chuckle. Since he was thirteen he’d been obsessed with classic rock. You have no idea what the first song he heard was but whatever it was it hooked him to the genre.

Through the loud music he explains everything you’ll have to go over with Wanda and mentions that he’s getting a facility together upstate that will become the new Avengers HQ, but that move is going to take some time so the tower is still “home” as of now. You nod along, knowing that if not for your enhanced abilities you wouldn’t be able to hear him correctly.

By the time Tony pulls into the private parking garage, whipping into his spot and turning the car off, you completely understand what role you’re about to play in terms of training Wanda.

“What? Eager to get to work?” He asks after you’ve practically sprinted out of the car. 

“More like eager to get out before my ears start bleeding.” You tell him, glancing over your shoulder at him to stick your tongue out playfully. You don’t have to keep looking at him to know he rolled his eyes. 

The familiarity of the building makes it easy to navigate. Pretty much leaving Tony in the dust, you walk through the lobby to the elevators. Taking them up to the training floor. 

Your plan hadn’t been to see anyone just yet. Mainly coming here to form some sort of plan as far as training the Maximoff girl goes. Only for her to be the person you run into once having stepped into the training room.

She’s across the room, fingers running over the edges of a treadmill as her eyes look through the large floor to ceiling window. You imagine she’s taking in the sight the tower provides of New York. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You ask, effectively grabbing the young woman’s attention. She turns her head to face you, eyebrows pinching together as she’s not familiar with you, only having seen you just before you hugged Natasha in Sokovia. 

“It is.” She replies shortly and you chuckle at it, stepping further into the room. 

Giving her a soft smile you introduce yourself,“ I’m Y/n,” you move over to the weight benches,“ Stark asked me to come in and help you adjust.”

Her eyes narrow and that draws your attention to the fact that her eyes are green.“ Are you an Avenger? Because I haven’t seen you around here.”

“I am not. I’m supposed to be retired but no one seems to give a damn so here I am.” Spreading your arms a little to emphasize your current location.

For whatever reason your words make her giggle and you smile at that, happy to have broken the ice at least a little. 

“So how’re you going to help me adjust Y/n?” Her inquisitive gaze follows her moving closer to you.

“Not sure. What do you need help adjusting to?” Your head tilts and your eyebrow quirks.“ The training regiment? Your new chaotic teammates? Living in New York?” 

“Is all of the above an option?” She asks, and although you know she’s serious you still hear the teasing in her tone. 

With a quiet laugh you nod,“ all of the above is an option.” You let her know.“ Um, I’m not sure of all the details with the move upstate but how about I show you around the tower and we can go over the basics of your training and such?” You decide to pose it as a question in case she doesn’t want to.

“That would be nice actually.” She smiles and you notice that it’s truly genuine. So with a smile in return, you motion for her to follow you out of the room. 

With her being on this floor, you assume she’s seen it all. Not that there’s much to see. It’s the training floor so there’s nothing but gyms and a locker room. Getting in the elevator, you press the number for one of the floors dedicated to just hanging out.

Not liking the silence of the elevators, Wanda breaks it with a question.“ So why didn’t you join the Avengers?” 

“Um,” you take a deep breath and release it as a sigh,“ I’d already done the whole superhero thing before. The Avengers came in and I was no longer needed.”

“Oh really?” She asks and her tone of voice makes you chuckle, then nod.“ And what made you want to be a superhero?”

The elevator stops and the doors slide open.“ I saw what they could do. The difference superheroes make in people's lives.”

Picking up on the shift in your energy, Wanda frowns, ignoring the very expensive looking stuff in the room.“ What happened?” She asked carefully, as if she were trying not to trigger something. 

“I-” you sigh softly, contemplating whether to actually tell her or not. Looking into her eyes you see past the general curiosity and what you find pushes you to tell her. 

So you both get comfortable on one of the couches in the room and you open up to her.“ I was taken by HYDRA when I was fairly young. And it’s not like the guards and scientists were interested in anything other than making me the perfect weapon. So when they started to experiment on me I was already in a horrible state physically. My health was on a steady decline and none of their experiments worked, it actually made me fatally ill. And with no further use of me, they’d left me there to die.” 

Wanda listens intently, eyes misting with tears at the information of your mistreatment.“ But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t,” you both laugh softly at that.“ The, at the time soon to be, founders of SHIELD were working with the US military to shut down HYDRA after World War II and they found the facility I was being held in. While they saved everyone who was being held captive there, I was in the worst shape. Seeing that I was on the verge of death, they made a decision to administer the super soldier serum to me to save my life.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise and you have to admit that her expression is amusing.“ You’re a super soldier from World War II?” You nod.“ How old would that make you?” 

“I’m 90. And I wasn’t in the war. I was born before the war. When it started I was 16 and already in a HYDRA base.”

She looks down and bites her bottom lip. You know she has another question on the tip of her tongue. And with her background, having volunteered to be experimented on by HYDRA, you know she’ll have a lot more questions after that.

So with a deep breath, you ask what’s on her mind and tuck in for a long conversation.

* * * 

After a long day at SHIELD, going over papers to further induct the twins into the Avengers, Natasha finally gets back to the tower. She ignores all the SHIELD agents rushing in and out of the lobby and goes straight for the elevators. 

Mentally, she admits that after the headache that is going into SHIELD, the sound of your laugh as soon as she gets on the main floor is refreshing. A small smile forms on her face and she makes her way towards the kitchen where she hears your voice.

While she knows you’re friends with the rest of her team, she can’t help but wonder if you came here to see her.

That thought falls short the instant she reaches the kitchen doorway. She quickly finds that the source of your laugh is the same young woman she’d just been recruiting onto her team. 

In fact, laughter comes from you and Wanda as you cook together. The aroma smells incredible but she can’t help but to remember that this is the very same thing the two of you had done on multiple occasions. 

“Nat, hey, when’d you get here?” 

Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she almost smiles again. Almost. 

“A few minutes ago.” She decides to take a step closer, which puts her right in the doorway.“ What’re you two making?”

“Um,” your eyebrows pinch together and you look at Wanda.

“Paprikash.” She answers with a quiet giggle and a shake of her head. 

You smile at her then look back up at Natasha,“ we’re making Paprikash.”

The redhead hums, debating with herself on whether she should stay or not. An indescribable feeling nagged in the back of her mind, growing more persistent as she looks at you and Wanda happily interacting with one another. It gradually chips away at her excitement to spend time with you and she hates it.

With a huff she says,“ I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns on her heel and walks away, effectively dodging the blue blur that is Pietro running into the kitchen, heading back to the elevator. With her floor practically empty due to the move, she wasn’t eager to go up but it seemed more relaxing than watching someone else make you laugh and smile how she did. 

Just as the elevator doors have started to close you slip through, narrowly missing getting your arm caught between the doors, and stand directly in front of her. Your eyes scan her form, up to her face and lingering there. She watches as you take her in, your eyes finally meeting. 

In a soft voice, one that practically melts her heart, you ask,“ are you okay?” She can’t say she expected you to ask that, plus the equally as soft look in your eyes, she grasps for an answer. One that isn’t ‘I didn’t like seeing you so happy with someone else’.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day and my floor isn’t exactly relaxation friendly right now.” She excuses. 

Nodding along, you smile a little at her,“ think I could help with that if you’d let me.” And there’s no way she’s saying no.

That’s how, a little over thirty minutes later, she finds herself following you into your apartment building with takeout bags and beer in hand. 

You hadn’t explained the plan until you were picking up the food. Telling her that a change of scenery might be exactly what she needs. Her trying to relax and unwind at the Tower was equivalent to a lawyer trying to relax at their firm.“ You can’t destress from work at work.” You reasoned. 

Unlocking your door, you gently push it open and hold it for Natasha. She wasn’t sure what to expect of your apartment, but what she finds definitely isn’t it.

Walking into your apartment makes her a little confused. It’s like stepping into a time vault that housed a number of different eras all at once. While things like your appliances and a few tables or paintings were modern or at least from the last decade, your couch, chairs, and even your cabinets look dated.

It was as if you furnished your home without a single clue of what you actually knew you wanted to present. But it’s you. Natasha finds that it almost perfectly embodies the person she’s come to know you to be. 

Since the moment she met you it was clear you were equally as present as you were stuck in the past. Your friendships with Tony and Steve showed that in an ironic way. With Tony the majority of your conversations or bonding was over the future, things he was planning, building, or tinkering with that would change the future. While with Steve you focused on the way things used to be in the era you grew up and were raised in.

“Nice place.” She finally says, moving her eyes from the kitchen to you.“ Very, you.”

The look you give her makes a small giggle leave her lips. You seemed so proud of her first comment and then the second one made you frown, as if you couldn’t tell if you should take it as an insult or a compliment. 

“Don’t think too hard Y/ln, your ears are starting to smoke.” She says jokingly, patting your cheek without giving it any thought. Her turning away makes her miss the way you flush at her inconsequential touch. 

At your invitation, she makes herself at home, finding a spot on the couch and starting to unpack the food. You join her shortly after with plates and forks, turning the tv on and going to a channel you both enjoy watching. 

“How you feelin about the move?” You ask, picking up your plate and leaning back against the couch. Even though the tv is on, Natasha can’t help but notice that all your attention seems to be on her. 

While she is definitely used to the attention, men and women alike focusing solely on her because of her looks, your attention is different. She knows it would be unreasonable of her to think you aren’t paying attention to her for her looks because well, when she gives you attention the first thing she looks at is your looks. You’re incredibly attractive, especially to the redhead. But it was more than that. 

On both ends, yourself and Natasha saw the physical beauty, but you looked beyond that. You saw the beauty of each other’s personalities. 

You’re lighthearted, you have an outlook on life that she finds intriguing, and not just because you’re decades older than her, it was how you maintained a fairly optimistic view on things despite the cards you’d been dealt in the past. On top of that you’re honest and caring, especially to the people you consider friends and family.

As far as she goes, you see her in, almost, the same way she sees you. She’s honest. Shows her care in a way that you find adorable, mainly because it’s so nonchalant. Her will to keep going, to endure the many trials she’s been through. Her strength never fails to amaze you. Not to mention the absolute admiration you have for her in regards to her clearing her ledger. Especially since being an Avenger means so much more to her than just that. 

That thought alone sends a rumbling of butterflies in her stomach and she hates how childish it feels but loves it all the same. 

“Um,” she looks down, letting her hair curtain between you two to hide the blush that rises.“ I can’t say I feel any particular way about it.”

When she feels your fingers ghost over her cheek, she has half a mind to grab your hand and break it, but it’s you and she’s been secretly craving your touch. In the softest gesture she’d ever been on the end of, you brush her hair back. Your fingers lightly run over her cheek and temple as you hook her hair behind her ear. 

She looks over to see you drop your head slightly to catch her eye, a little smile on your face.“ It is okay if you aren’t all that happy to be leaving. The tower has been your home for the last few years. An attachment or even familiarity with it is understandable.” 

“I-” she sighs, just barely tilts her head closer to your touch, then lifts her head.“ I’ve never had a home Y/ln.” She knows you can hear the hurt in her words, cause admittedly she didn’t hide it like she usually would. She doesn’t feel the need to with you.

You go quiet for a moment and Natasha wonders if maybe she should’ve kept her somber comment to herself. The instant she considers walling herself off again, you speak.“ Well then maybe,”

She raises an eyebrow at you.“ Maybe what?”

“Maybe this could be your home.” You swallow, nerves manifesting in the way you play with your food.“ I know you’ve only just been here today but, everyone deserves a safe haven. Somewhere they can escape from the rest of the world. Everyone deserves a home.” You finally look back into her eyes,“ especially you Nat.”

You didn’t know but in that moment you got to her in a way no one else ever had. You didn’t tear her walls down. Instead, as if understanding the very reason the walls had been put up in the first place, you built a door to her heart and soul. And only you hold the key to it.

She’s hit with the weight of her feelings for you, feelings she’d never had for anyone before. As terrifying as she finds it, she can’t help but think that if there’s anyone who she could trust to be gentle with these feelings it’s you.

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz

[bangteamhyuk]

Seesaw (II)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: (NSFW! 18+) Car fingering while Yoongi drives, handjob, blowjob, cum licking/ spitting, Producer! Min Yoongi practicing SAFE SEX and ya’ll kids should do it too, mentions of bullying, suggestive abuse of power/ office boss being a d*ck, alcohol drinking and getting hammered, mention of sexist remarks, Seokjin being damn handsome AF just by walking in OC Y/N’s life like it’s okay because clearly it isn’t (I’m Jimin bias btw, I know you aren’t asking but I’m serving still) OC Y/N basically being unapologetically herself (living life in debauchery) and Yoongi knowing exactly what he needs in his damn life and he isn’t taking no for an answer.

Word count: 10,977k

SYNOPSIS: For months, you’ve been trying to hide your little crush on your neighbor who lives on the 18th floor. Until one night, you saw him drunk on the elevator with an empty bottle of Scotch, you asked if he maybe wants to have more of those in your place. And he did more than just agreeing.

Also thank you to these wonderful people: @flowerblu00​ @milkyshoooky​ @sugaaddiction​ 

“Of course, I’d love to….” you spoke low while taking a glass of water to drink. From the rims of the glass, you swore you could see Yoongi trying his best not to smile, playing it cool by pretending to struggle in picking the cooked meat from the grill. You bit the chopsticks to fight a smile, you must admit, that was pretty cute.

--

But Rush Hour. Of all the days you two choose to get laid was on Friday evening—a time where, unfortunately by default, everyone collectively decides to get laid as well. Thus, getting stuck in a sea of red lights. Needless to say, you two were bummed.

The traffic was so terrible, that it sucked you dry… literally. It’s as if a Dementor went around Yoongi’s car, found its way in, and unfashionably sucking you from underneath your seat. (Which by the way doesn’t look sexy at all. Seriously, who gets turned-on from that idea? Clearly not you) You were damn fine damp a minute ago, and now it felt uneventfully dry.

“You know what? This is ridiculous. I can see a motel nearby, why don’t we go there in the meantime?” you dramatically lamented from your seat. Yoongi, who was drinking iced coffee, almost choked to hear you declare your frustration so casually.

“Well, um…” he peered through the windshield “I can see the cars are moving in the next lane…”

“The motel is right over there” you pointed, emphasizing the short distance between the car and the building to his left.

He gulped “I uh-- I don’t like to take you to some sleazy motel. Besides, we have our own place” he starts counting by the finger “One, we don’t have to lie down on dirty sheets. Two, won’t clearly hear people moaning next door, and lastly no one’s gonna charge us by the hour…” facing you and concern

“Tell that to your friend who’s waning by the minute…” you pursed your lip pointing in his nether region. He instinctively closed his legs at your retort and chuckled “It’s fine, we’ll be fine… thanks for the genuine concern. Oh look, the light turned green! See, we’re moving?  I think the next lane is pretty lax...”

You can only huff as your dry reply.

As much as he wanted to leave with you right away and get to the nearest subway station the very moment you agreed, he couldn’t.  Because of all the days he decided to feel horny, he chose to go out with his car. He shut his eyes and dropped his head on the steering wheel to express his blowing resentment towards the cars, gradually becoming stationary on the said next lane. Thus, extinguishing any glimpse of hope that you two would arrive at his place, at an earlier time.

With an aching face, he wished that he could turn back the time and just to leave his damn car at the apartment building. Just so he could save his own balls from turning blue by the minute.

It was obvious that he was frustrated too, like you. Who wouldn’t? Being jammed in almost half an hour already? Still on the city street, barely moving? You had to deal with it.

Then it hit you: Yeah, why not deal with it?

However, you quickly realized that this may be a hit or miss. Not all people share the same interest or kink, but you were dying to have your back scratched, and so is he. So fuck it, you’re doing it.

You began to move your legs, slowly brushing it against Yoongi’s hand which was resting on the gear. He reacted, naturally. In fact, when the traffic light changed colors from red to green, he accidentally stepped on the gas pretty abruptly which partly shoved you down from your seat “Sorry…” furrowing his eyebrow apologetically, deep enough to find your pardon.

“It’s okay” fixing your hair from the center, and tucking it securely on your ears. Thankfully, you didn’t forget to put on a seatbelt, or else the plan you had in mind would have backfired. He sighed in relief, grateful that you accepted his apology.

Uncontented, you then pressed your hand on top of his. His hands suddenly turned cold as he tightened his grip on the gear, right before your touch. While you were certain that most men reacted positively to it, being open to a semi-public tryst, your expectations were not met. Instead, he cleared his throat and held your hands... held your damn hands.

He gently hit the brake as he approached another mob of halted cars on the next lane. Obviously flustered, he quickly moved his head to the side taking glimpses of whatever there was on his side mirror while withholding his smile. He momentarily pulled his hands away from you to shift his gear to neutral, then held your hands back. He even pushed his own finger in between its gaps and locked it. Locked your damn hands.

Slowly you closed your eyes and took one deep breath, not because your heart started to flutter, but because of your utmost disappointment at his response. This is clearly different from what you wanted to happen.

You took a mental note of the events and Yoongi’s actions, concluding that he was clearly a man who disliked beating around the bush. So, for the sake of being clear on your intention, you aggressively pulled his hand, opened his palms and let it slowly brush the skin hiding underneath your skirt.

He froze. Now you got his attention.

Nervously, he coughed on impulse. While his one hand remained clutched on the steering wheel and his eyes still focused on the road, the other hand was busy grazing your inner thigh. Surprisingly, he didn’t budge. He lets you take control, directing him where you want him to be while touching you gently. You then took his wrist, and guided his fingertips towards where you wanted it from the very beginning.

“Y/N, I just think it’s better if we wai---” for a moment, he had forgotten what he wanted to say to you next, because suddenly he felt his finger move to a place where he is afraid you'll lead it to-- your wet slit.

He swallowed, his mouth left ajar and brows lifted in absolute surprise. “Oh shit” was the only thing he could say.

Whining softly from your seat, he reluctantly moved his head to watch you introduce his fingers to the pleasure of your flesh. You then extended your arms, cautiously reaching for his legs and caressed it intently. His eyes blinked rapidly, as he turned his head back to face the road, refusing to look back. His mouth is still hanging from the air, as his head floats in uncertainty mixed with pure ecstacy.

No one asked but, really, this is what you meant by taking matters into your own hand.

It took him a minute to process what was happening, and as such, he began to return the favor. Now free from your control, he started pressing his finger on your sensitive bud and stroked it gently. He bit his lip right after he heard you moaned, “...Yoongi”

“Fuck” he suddenly saw the traffic light turn red to green. He slowly stepped on the gas pedal,  careful enough to prevent you being thrown from your seat again. He was now steering the wheel with one hand as he flicked your clit with the other at a steady pace. As acknowledgement on being gratified, you opened your legs wider.

He was game.

Yoongi briefly pulled his hands away from you to maneuver the car smoothly on the highway. He grunted at the view of another sight of flooded red lights. He wanted to get home so bad. All he could think of was to get on the bed with you with his cock finally warmed. But the highway had led this poor man’s dreams down in an instant.

Though, you refused to concede to the situation. You are willing to put up a fight against the status quo, ready to deny the world from preventing yours and Yoongi’s happiness from dying each second. Thus, like a good employee of this capitalistic world, you turn this deplorable event from liability to an asset: making this a great opportunity for you and Yoongi to bond closer. (Albeit, a different kind of bonding, that is)

As soon as he stepped on the brakes, you pulled out your seatbelt and moved towards his direction “Your car is heavily tinted right?” you asked while probing the cars around you from your window.

“Yeah, why?” He asked while putting back his hands to your slit, continuing to flick your bud, now significantly fast. You decided to turn it up a notch as you reached for the button of his pants. Slowly, unbuttoning it and pulling his zipper down. He started to pant, nervous to hear you reply.

“Safety first…” You then helped him shift the gear to neutral, and began pulling his pants and boxer roughly half way.

He groaned as he watched you grasp his stiff length, stroking it slow. “Is this what you meant when you asked if my car is tinted?” he quickly jerked his head up to check if the vicinity is safe, then briefly saw you nod your head to a ‘Yes’.

He choked when he sensed his tip poke on to your lips. It didn’t take a while for you to hear him moan when he felt his tip finally pressed the entrance of your mouth, gradually moving down on your tongue and on to your inner cheek. The warmth and wetness you’re giving him puts him in immediate joy.

He hissed at the sight of you taking him whole, and helped you fix your hair by putting it to the side, letting you breathe easy while you bob your head “Nngh… Y/N”

“Like that?” you part a bit and kissed his tip.

“Why do you keep asking the obvious?” he faintly chuckled as he tossed his head from his seat, right when he felt your tongue move from the bottom shaft and up to its head. Then quickly downed on him entirely again. His eyebrow creased automatically, as if contemplating today’s wisdom from the universe that all ‘good things come to those who wait’. He concentrated on that note like a mantra, as he shut his eyes tight.

Even when you were giving him a head, he was still kind enough to help you keep your hair away from your face. Holding it fairly light, trying not to pull. If this isn’t a gentleman thing to do, then I do not know what is.

“Y/N” He began sliding his two fingers in, which left you half giggling and panting at the immediate contact.

“Mm, you are doing me good hm?” you asked while stroking him slowly and watching his eyes closed, barely breathing as he mentally called to thank the universe for being blessed by you “You can add another finger if you want…”

“Damn, you are so hot…” His eyes then lit up, biting his lip and grinning with pride, thus displaying his perfect gummy smile that takes you to greater heights every time he does. “Yeah… I really appreciate your honesty, thank you for telling me you are horny” he replied as he prods his fingers in, progressively fast. Candidly making you clench and moan his name at the same time.

And like a good co-worker, you went back to hustle. Starting from the bottom to his top.

The tightness of your mouth in his shaft, the smell of your sweet perfume, the sound of his fingers squelching inside your very core, and the sight of you taking him whole, like a prized lollipop. Oh, and the fact that he pulled his (now) three fingers out from you to have a little taste…Yes, he nodded to himself. Licking every side of his fingers as if eating at KFC. Indeed, ‘it is finger licking good’.

It became apparent that all his senses were being satisfied when you finally felt him start to shiver. Everything was met, everything was good, everything became so overwhelming for Yoongi that even with his lids close, he can still see the light shine from heaven.

He gasped, leaving him marveled at your greatness by giving him a very good head. In fact, he found it so admirable that you start to feel him throb. Evidently, he is coming.

You were so good, that he barely withholds himself from coming. Along with the fact that he became unaware that his elbow accidentally hit the switch to dwindle down the window. “Fuck!” he writhed, thrusting his hip up spurting hard in your mouth.

“Yo, Casanova! Your windows are down!” The driver on the other side shouted.

His eyes widened, still sporadically shuddering from his high. “Shit!” He quickly pushed the button to raise his windows while his other hand pulled his pants and boxers up (at the least he managed to put his boxers up while in hurry, now 80% covering his ass) only it was too late.

Resisting to swallow his cum, you began to pull yourself up from your seat and look for a tissue stashed somewhere inside your bag. Upon seeing your head pop from below though, it didn’t take long for the other driver to discern what just happened.

“Nasty” was the last thing Yoongi heard from the grinning stranger before he finally put his window back up. Now completely shielded from his embarrassment.

Just then the traffic light turned red to green. Yoongi quickly hit the gas. Staying in this traffic was definitely the last thing he wanted to be in. He then thoughtfully swore to be mindful of his surroundings next time when another opportunity like this came, or maybe he would never (It’s too soon to decide)

But one thing is for sure, he swore he can never drive and see this road the same way ever again. Thanks to you.

--

A lilac lacy bra resting on his lampshade, matched silken panty hanging on the side of his headboard, black pants stuck in the middle of his bedroom door, an empty packet of condom on the edge of the bed, and his brief dangling, which managed somehow to reach on top his his TV.

Sitting with his legs crossed, his back resting on a pile of pillows with his hands supporting your weight. He happily watched you grind on him with great effort for a full whole blown minute. “Y/N” humming your name, in between his grunt.

“Yoongi” you recited his name in return like litany, hands gripping on his bare shoulders as you tossed your head back in trance.

“Fuck…” he began to propel his hips against you, meeting your every movement. One of his hands sneaked its way to your breasts cupping each and kneading it gently.

“Yoongi” you repeated, calling his name, spreading your legs wider to find your balance and continuing to roll your hips in synchrony with his. For a moment, the sound of slapping skin was all you could hear until it syncopated by his heavy breathing. He pushed himself close to you, hands now reaching towards your clit. Stroking and flicking it concurrently in full earnest.  

His head suddenly fell on to your shoulder, his gasp becoming audibly clear sending you into utter frenzy. In response, you pulled yourself back and began nibbling his ear, light and soft. He moaned. Yes, the kind that reverberates, delivering you to the edge. Thus reaching your high.

He snickered after hearing you whimper “For someone who initiated everything, I honestly thought you could last. I didn’t know just the sound of me moaning can send you to peak?”

With your mouth still open, you grimaced at his snide remark “Lie down, why don’t you? Let’s see if I can take you with me?”

“No need to, I’ll come any time soon” he tilts his head to the side and kisses you, simultaneously thrusting in haste. His sudden reflex jolts you in another course of delirium. As his movements became erratic, you held on tight to his shoulders taking it as a cue to give each other one final push to reach both your climax.

“Y/N…” He gagged as he squinted his eyes hard. Together, you both curse at the sensation, and deeply sighing together after hitting the zenith. You both lie down at the same time, panting. For a while it was silent, as if both of you were taking time to ponder on life in general like a hermit sage.

“…. Is this going to be a regular thing?” he suddenly asked, shifting on his bed to face the ceiling. Finally, he was asking the important question.

“Sure. You mean no strings attached right?” moving your body to face him.

He then pursed his lip to say something but quickly retracted. He figured he needed to ask it, so he just let it roll. A necessary query, he thought. “Is this going to be exclusive or….”

“Let’s not kid ourselves and make things easier for us, so no. Exclusive is quite foreign territory for me. Although I can still be monogamous, that is if you want it to… but don’t push okay? I can only go for a short period” you stretched your arm and rolled to the edge, taking the liberty to take his bottled water from the bedside table and drink.

“No, no, it’s okay. As long as we keep using protection, I guess that’s fine. We can see other people on the side, while we keep in touch? I think it’s a pretty fair deal…”

“It’s a good deal” you pointed out as he nodded in agreement.

“But what if one of us isn’t up for it any longer? Do we tell or do we not tell? Because honestly I’ll hope you’d pick the forme-- ”

“Latter” you quickly replied before he finished the word ‘Former’

He chuckled, and shook his head in disbelief with your reply.

“Fine, I can adjust. I totally understand that this isn’t just about me, so in all fairness, I’ll agree to your demands. But you have to agree with mine”

“That is?” He sat back up and pulled out his soiled condom, knotted it first before throwing it in the trash bin.

“Give me your number” you opened your palm to his direction

“Well, I thought you’d never ask” he picked up his cellphone he left from the edge of his bed, while you combed down on the floor to find yours. You two then exchange phones and enter each other’s number, and return it back. “That was easy” he raised one eyebrow smirking at you.

“With that, we can um… reach each other wherever, whenever” you pressed your lips together and gave him a smile.

He nodded “Sure, but only if you wanted”

“Only if you wanted it too” you replied, cordially mimicking his head.

“Everything sound’s good to me” he shrugged “So, Deal?” he stuck his hand out to you and you took it. “Deal” you both shook it, sealing the agreement.

--

Seesaw. It is one of your favorite playground activities. You enjoy the momentary high and the unpredictability of being dropped down. Although more than anything, you adore the power play. You get the euphoria from being intrigued, guessing each time who gets to take the upper hand.

You love taking predictions, you love calculating, but above all you love to wager. You wanted a brief scare from losing, only to shift the leverage to your favor. For you, Seesaw is a game of dominance. And in the game of dominance, of course you like to be the one in control.

Even when you were little you were so engrossed at that thought, obsessing to declare yourself to be the winner. You were so competitive, that it made you fall on a sandbox one time, when you were playing with your next-door neighbor, Hee-joon.

Seeing from afar, your father quickly ran to you and held you close for comfort. Although when he was dressing your bruises, you remember vividly how he warns you not to cry in front of boys, because little boys always relish seeing a weak girl cry. You always have to emerge as the victor at all times. Hence, you never did. Even now as an adult. You fight back, you always do.

That’s why Hee-joon grew up hating you, because the last time you two played Seesaw again, you managed to put him up above and watched him revel in the air. Until he realized you refused to put him back down, not until he cried. You watched him weep and plead above you. Only then you decided to put him down when his mother came. To say the least, your mother was upset with your action, but your father felt proud.

Seesaw is the game that taught you how to take the highs and lows, but more than anything, it taught you how to be the one in supreme.

Every time you deal with men, you remember every word your father told you. As such, when you reached the epiphany that love is nothing but just an illusion, you decided to take things to the sheets instead. You’d rather be engulfed with pleasure rather than unnecessary emotions under the guise of romance.

And yet, somehow deep within you, you were too scared to admit the rationale why you vehemently refuse to lose. Because at the time when you fell and your father ran to you, you saw it in his eyes. He was looking at you, fearful to see someone he loves dearly be in so much pain. He was terrified to let you know how far the depths of a wound can go, until you can no longer feel… and you’re afraid to know it too.

It is the precise reason why, right now, you are watching Yoongi cover his face on a Sunday morning. Leading him to his high, watching him revel in absolute bliss, under him… literally. Yoongi pleaded for you to stop giving him another god-tier head, and let him breathe easy, before you could deliver him any further to his overdrive. While you indeed followed his plea by halting, you decided to tease him a little by pulling yourself up from the covers and went on top of him. You took his wrist and pressed his palms against your bare chest.

“Wait” he paused as he sat up and furtively looked for a condom in his drawer. “Thank God, we still have one last…” he pulled out the shiny foil packet. You took it from his hand and helped him put the rubber on.

And just like that, Yoongi again was on a roll. For the past few weeks, neither of you resisted sex. Monday night? On your couch. Wednesday? On his kitchen counter. Friday after work? Inside his car on a dark alleyway. Saturday night? Inside his shower. Now Sunday, back on his bed.

Sex with Yoongi is great, but you already expect that.

But just like a play of Seesaw, you know that this kind of arrangement will definitely have some highs and lows. You know that one day, you and Yoongi’s sex drive will decline, frequent calls will become rare, until it’s gone. So, keep them coming right? Not that you are worried, but really what is there to lose? Especially if the sex is good and you two are on an equilibrium, like that in the game.

Well, not until Friday.

---

“Hey, good work!” someone tapped your shoulder lightly after closing the meeting room, you turned around to see who it was.

“Oh, Hoseok. Thanks!” you grinned, happy to see one of your best friends attend your team’s presentation for a Cereal Company. You’ve known Hoseok since college, and even worked with him on your first job. Even if both of you left and went to a different company now, you two still find time to catch up. It just so happens that you two are now working on the same project.

Dipping your head a little low, you whispered to his direction “I was genuinely surprised to know you work for this company, I thought you hated their cereals?”

“Unfortunately, beggars can’t choose” he replied softly as you nodded in agreement, while walking with him on the office hallway towards the elevator lobby “Great to know they promoted you as the Event’s Manager huh?”

“As long as they pay me well, I can manage whatever shit the world throws at me,” you said, twitching your lip to the side and shrugging, making Hoseok hysterical.

“Cheers to being a slave for money”

“Cheers” you both tossed an imaginary goblet from each of your hands when suddenly, you heard your phone buzzing, so did his. Both of you stopped from the elevator lobby to read the message. You rolled your eyes “Seems your boss and my boss are going to announce their engagement?”

He chuckled, “I’m pretty sure they’re straight, Y/N. But I can’t come to this ‘Night After-Work Drink’…” he put his phone back in his pocket after reading it.

“Aw, C’mon it’s going to be the weekend tomorrow! Plus, I’m going to introduce you to my colleagues, we’ll have fun! Just come, let’s go Hoseok! Don’t leave me alone, please?” you whined before him, trying your hardest to convince one of your closest friends to come by using your pleading charm.

Hoseok just stared at you and breathed.

“Why? Have you not forgiven me for that time I accidentally left my hairbrush on your car and your ex thought you were cheating on her? Hence, leaving me now on my own to suffer?”

You stepped forward to face Hoseok before he could enter the elevator with you.

He rolls his eyes “Still dramatic as always. I told you, that’s been long forgotten. Besides, I am dating someone new”

“Oh” you said inaudibly, finding Hoseok slightly displeased with your overly critical reaction.

“Hey, I know that face!” he narrowed his eyes while expressing his distaste to see your silent retort “And no, I have no plans in introducing you to her… Yet! Not until we’ve established whatever we are” he continued while pressing the elevator to the ground floor.

“Hm, still sounds trouble to me”

“We’ve only known each other for a week, Y/N. Give her some slack.”

“Then why are you cancelling extra working hours? When can you drink to your heart's content, hm? Beer will taste good, especially if you’re not the one paying” you bobbed your brows and smug “Just admit it Hoseok, she got you wrapped around her fingers. I told you, you can’t do this on a regular. Women like a little chase…”

“First of all, we’re not paid to kiss ass. Second, you also hated the idea of having to go there too and third, she’s not like you…”

You opened your mouth, clearly taken aback to hear his remark. Hoseok quickly clarified “I meant to say, you’re frighteningly the almost perfect girl…but she’s not the fooling type.”

“That’s what we all say, that’s what we all want you to believe Hoseok...” You retort incredulously “it’s better be uncompromising forthright than give you false hope. Go choose!”

Hoseok sighed deeply “Look, one day you are going to meet someone who will probably prove to you that not all men are shit.” he said while crossing his arms and stared at you, admonishingly.

“I already did. I have you” you pouted. The elevator stopped as Hoseok waited for you to step out first then followed.

“Besides me” leading you now to his car in the parking lot. His eyes flickered as he remembered something… or someone “Know what? there’s Seokjin-hyung”

“Oh, you mean Seokjin the half-god from the Film Department, in our Uni? Seokjin is infinitely out of question. Have you seen his latest drama on TV? Park Bo-gum even sent a coffee truck to congratulate him” You sighed resentfully.

“How’d you know?”

“Instagram. Okay don’t judge”

Hoseok chuckled, stopping at his car to turn it open with his car keys “I clearly am doing it right now”

“Technically, he is untouchable. You’ve seen how the girls reacted then when they saw me and him together on a couch? When we were literally just talking about Chinese Philosophy class during that frat party. And like some teen-romcom movie, rumors started to fly the next day and they multiplied by the hour” You opened the door to his passenger seat and secured yourself with a seatbelt.

“Easy A. It’s Easy A.” He stressed as he entered and adjusted the side mirror’s on the driver’s seat .

“The difference between you and Seokjin are that we’re friends… and he and I just happened to be in one class”

He starts the engine of his car, offering to drive you all the way to the bar where your team is having this week’s celebration “My point is… theoretically speaking, that there are men who are as nice, like he is. Plus, he knows those nasty rumors weren’t true. Won’t you forgive those girls?”

“They’re basically my creators? Shouldn’t this present slut thank them instead?”

“You and I both know you were once a college prude, and you never slept with any of those rumored men… Seokjin-hyung knows the truth. Even if he was conscripted to the list, unlike other men who took advantage of that, he fervently denied”

“Because that’s the truth. We never slept, Hoseok. Above every one, you know I didn’t have the guts. Wow, I am still not sure whether to feel offended or happy about it. Am I not worth it?”

“Y/N, seriously? Seokjin’s a true gentleman, that’s it. That’s the tea. I can even swear he was into you that time, until her groupies held an emergency meeting to evilly conspire against you… I’m actually glad they’ve been dealt with. This is why we can’t have nice things”

“Hoseok, okay, granted that he and I ended up dating each other back then… It is still going to fail because lov-- ”

He started to turn on the radio, loudly “What? I can’t hear you! Know what? Have a talk with your pessimism when you get to the bar. Here, I’ll even give you extra money so you could offer it a few more drinks” he pulled a few coins from his pocket and handed it over to you.

You chuckled, batting your eyes to his direction “Aw, ever the romantic Hoseok. Well, keep them I’ll collect it soon enough”

“She is going to be great, Y/N. Don’t jinx it!”

--

“Fuck capitalism!” your boss shouted.

“Fuck capitalism!” you all repeated and shouted it while drinking another shot all together.

“Y/N! Lara! Do that soju bomb thing together!” Your boss suddenly made his way to sourpuss the night by ordering you two to do a party trick which is gravely against your will.

Lara gave you a look and you just shrugged, telepathically and ironically accepting defeat from capitalism itself, by giving in at your boss’s request. You two were compelled to act normal as if nothing happened. Honestly, no one really needs to know about you, her, and canker Joe. As a matter of fact, you don’t want anyone to know that you tried to sleep with canker Joe from your office. Besides, didn’t Lara hide the fact that he was seeing Joe too? Maybe she was too embarrassed about him as well. Regardless, he is definitely a thing in the past and should be kept inside a box, six-feet underground for good.

“Hey!” Lara plastered a smile and handed you the glasses, as usual, to prepare both your famous tricks.

“Hey, hey!” you faked cheered as well as you helped her open more beers to spray on each glass, half filling the glass. Lara then filled each shot glass with a fair amount of soju, while you meticulously placed them strategically close so by the time you shove one, the other shot glass would follow like dominoes (dropping to beer glass like a bomb).

This never fails to amaze your boss for some reason, to see you two do it each time, much to you and Lara’s chagrin. Truthfully, if you’re being asked, you two would wish you weren’t forced to entertain anyone outside office just to have a favorable treatment by the day.

“Y/N” your boss called as he pulled out a newly opened bottle of soju to your direction, handing out your glass politely to him as a reflex. “You really did a great job with your presentation; I really like it! Don’t be too shy alright? You deserve to celebrate!”

“Thank you, sir,” you turned away from his direction and downed the alcohol in one go, respectfully showing everyone on the table that you’ve accepted the harsh reality of the need to kiss ass so you could get cash.

“Too bad, Hoseok’s not here. He’ll probably have fun” Hoseok’s boss, who joined your team, commented while watching you have another at your boss’s behest. You nodded to his direction, to feign agreement. Considering the amount of alcohol he could bear in a single night, of course not, he definitely would not have fun.

“Y/N” someone murmured on the table, after your boss moved his attention to the recently hired employees. You turned around and saw Lara staring at you “Y/N” she repeated.

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow clearly befuddled to hear her and have your attention.

“I know you can’t handle alcohol well, just gently decline next time he offers. He has more people to oppress now” she lowered herself so you could hear her clearer and puck her lips subtly to point at the poor new recruits.

“Oh, I thought you said you didn’t want to be friends with a slut like me? Are we also going to pretend I didn’t hear that too?” you whispered back

“Whatever, just don’t come hurling at everybody and then throw up”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you”

She was right. She’s always right. By the time you downed an nth shot of soju or whatever it is they gave you (and add that fancy cocktail you wanted to try on their menu) your surroundings gradually revolve and appeared hazy. Somehow, you decided to take drunken shots of the bar and record random moments for you to post something on your social media account. Nothing too wild or nasty, just enough to flash for your friends online that you were having a great time on another Friday night.

“Y/N, is it okay if you come with me to the restroom and help with something?” Lara asked distinctly from her seat, loud enough to hear your superiors to cut you lose from drinking.

You nodded submissively, plopping down from the stool and followed Lara. By the time you two arrived at the girl’s restroom you quickly went into the nearest cubicle and threw yourself against the toilet and vomited.

“I told you so, even Hannah Montana can’t get the best of both worlds. Y/N, stop acting tough.” She crouched down and held your hair up while patting your back.

“I’m feeling fantastic Lara!” you deadpan reply while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay, you are welcome” she rolled her eyes while burrowing something from your bag, then you heard something thud. Suddenly everything went blank.

--

The smell of musk, leather and a little bit of smoke. The feeling of the heat of a skin nudging on your nose. Your hands pressed against someone else’s chest, and the air breezing under the soles of your feet, as if you were levitating. You blinked your eyes twice and opened it wide from your stupor… finding yourself in the middle of the busy street of Itaewon.

You shook your head a little and realized you were resting on someone’s back. “Don’t move too much, you are starting to get heavy?” said someone in a timbre filled with objection.

You knew that voice, and you knew that scent too well too “Yoongi?” you asked weakly.

“Are you gonna throw up? Just tell me…”

“Yoongi, why are you…” you shook your head, that wasn’t the right question “Why are we here?”

“You butt-dialled me, it’s been so long since you called so I thought you’d invite me over but I only heard random noises then it ended… Until you began sending me weird pictures in the dark. So, I was kind of worried and called… But it was your officemate who answered and just told me to come pick you up”

“My what?” you asked, trying to process everything you heard.

“Know what? You’re too drunk to have this conversation and so I’m just going to take you home. Don’t move too much, you are slipping” he paused for a moment while he jerked to keep him adjusted to the weight that he is carrying. “Cutie from the 18th floor huh?” you heard him snickered as he asked.

“You saw my phone?”

“No, your officemate told me. Actually she asked me if I was ‘Cutie from the 18th floor?’ She apologized instantly because she didn’t know how to address me when I came to the bar to pick you up”

“Okay, that’s it. Put me down!” you tried to shimmy your body away from him

“Are you sure about that? She took your shoes from you; said she’ll leave it on your desk tomorrow”

“God…Must be Lara…”

“Is she the best friend you told me about before?”

“Yeah…”

“She’s worried about you”

“Mmm. Right.” You shut your eyes from the blinding neon lights passing from your sight.

“…Hold on to me tight” he reminded, as you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him while he trudged with you on his back.

In clear disorientation, right in the midst of the crowd, you wonder—why above all things, he is carrying you home without any question. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sighed while clutching on his chest a little bit tighter. You rest your head again on his shoulder, burrowing your nose on the fabric of his shirt. (Not to be weird, but if someone demanded what you’re doing at a gun point you wouldn’t think twice confessing that he genuinely smells so good, and that’s the whole reason) Somehow, whatever this was, it made you feel at ease.

And he wasn’t complaining.

--

“Y/N…Y/N” Yoongi rouse you from your mini-slumber “We’re here, we’re at your front door” He gently put you down on the floor and help you stand upright, waiting for you to enter your apartment so he could drop you home with his conscience at peace.

You crouched down and narrowed your eyes while pressing on the numbers on your door lock, offering it with great effort.

‘Access Denied’ it buzzed.

“Shit!” cursing on your poor concentration to get it right.

Yoongi sighed “Whisper me the number code, and I’ll do it for you”

“What? And enter any time while I’m sleeping?” you replied while unnecessarily glaring at him.

“Okay, that’s it… I can leave you here or you can stay at my place…” he put his waist on each side of his waist, like an old lady giving you an ultimatum.

“Fine... it’s wait…” You pointed a finger to Yoongi and pulled out your phone, pressing down the number sequence on the screen but in full labor. Yoongi, who was losing the endmost ounce of his patience, finally pulled you up to drag you back to the elevator lobby of your floor.

“Okay, okay, it’s 5991!” you spoke harshly, demanding him to put you down. Yoongi quickly turned around, to see if anyone heard. Fortunately, no one was around your hallway to hear you blurt your code so casually. He then swiftly pressed the numbers and opened your door and pulled you in.

“Oh! I forgot my RFID is on my wallet” you raised your hand belatedly after being dragged by Yoongi inside your apartment “Wait, what? You could’ve told me this earlier!” he groaned in utmost frustration, while helping pull your blazer off and beginning to question his choices in life.

“Yoongi” you grin at him with your eyes barely open “it’s been a while yeah? I miss your cock! Let’s have sex!” you squeaked quite happily. He then dropped you pretty harshly on the bed, not that you mind since you were too inebriated to care. “Mmm. Are you into rough play tonight Mr. Hit-song Producer, sir?” You reached for him, tracing your fingers against his shirt.

“I’m not…” he replied directly, rejecting your advances while he turned away from you busily searching for something. “… unfortunately for you miss, I don’t get turned on with drunken girls on the bed. Scurry over and try to seat on your back on the head board”

Obediently, you followed his demands despite not making sense, or at least because you are too drunk to comprehend anything. You shut your eyes waiting for him to do something to you until you felt something damp on your face “Yoongi?” you slowly opened your eyes.

“I am taking the liberty…Close your eyes” he asked sternly. It was beginning to make sense now.

“Are you helping me clean up?” you asked, feeling him gently brush your eyes with a damp facial cotton. “How’d you know which one is a makeup remover?”

“I’m not dumb, Y/N. I can read” he adjusted himself to mildly take your mascara off you. Flustered, you begin to turn your head slightly away from him. As if in a snap, the effect of alcohol was beginning to wane. Just because of the thought that Yoongi was doing things for you that you never expected. “Y/N, look I’m trying!” he clicked his tongue by pressing his thumb and index finger on your chin, securing you steadily “I heard, it’s not good to sleep with a makeup on… there’s a good chance you’ll turn blind from bacteria build-up if this is left unclean for hours”

“Says, who?” trying to dissipate the towering feeling of being embarrassed. “Your ex?”

“No, the idols I get to work with who came in late. They were trying to justify their tardiness because of their face after a night of drinking. Honestly, who cares? They have a lot of fans who love them”

“It’s a girl thing, you’ll never understand”

Smoothing another batch of damp cotton on your cheeks, he finished the conversation by telling you “Well, I do. You are pretty even without it…” he said while dabbing one last time on the side of your lips until you felt his thumb pressed on the edge of your lips.

Yoongi froze, did he just? He started to wonder. You slowly opened your eyes to see his face close to yours, just a few inches away from each other's lips. He cleared his throat and immediately shifted himself away from you again, keeping distance. “Good night, Y/N”

You watched him turn his back and dimmed the lights off your room, leaving only with a soft glimmer from your bedside lamp. Feeling stunned at the chain of events, you cowered down to see your clothes still on and your chest beating heavily. You jerked and shook your head reminding yourself that ‘No, we refuse to be your victim, Yoongi’. Then you felt it, clearly your body is still jaded, realizing on its own that you still had too much alcohol in your system. So, you tried to hurry over to your bathroom, only to find your face falling flat on the floor.

Gratefully, Yoongi hasn’t completely left you yet. When he heard, he abruptly went to check on you in your room. “Just how many have you had?” he helped you up and hiked you over to the toilet. You immediately hurled yourself to it and threw whatever you had in you. He groaned mournfully, while patting your back. He knew the answer to his queries, he’s going to need to stay by your place for the night.

And he did, but on your couch. He thought, it would be awkward to be placing himself beside you on your bed if you two are not having sex. Thankfully, your couch had enough space for him to lie down, yet he couldn’t seem to find his sleep. Not when he began questioning himself as to why you had him worried for the night, he shifts to the side staring blankly on your ceiling deeply sighing at the thought. He wished he knew.

--

The sound of fizzle, the touch of your dried lips, and the scent of butter, emanating from the kitchen towards your room. All of those, woke your senses. You looked at your phone and find it’s 7am on Saturday. Normally, Hoseok would gladly walk into your apartment to send you over hung-over foods, but guessing at the fact that he’d be with a lady friend you assumed he’d be unavailable for you in a time of need…. And cooking? Hoseok cooking? For the longest time you two had been together as friends, he never once attempted to put himself in the kitchen. So what changes?

You took your satin robe and swiftly wrapped it around to see who it was in your kitchen. You ran out of your room with a pillow on your hand and shrieked at the familiar figure. It was Yoongi cooking in your kitchen

He pulled out his airpods and asked “What, were you calling me?”

“No, I just… I didn’t expect you’d still... be here…Are you cooking?”

“Um, yeah, why are you always asking the obvious?” he knitted his brows, eyes darting from left to right, perplexed to even answer your query. “Look, why don’t you sit down and let Chef Min do the cooking for today”

You silently sat on your island stool and watched him prepare food. “Is this what you do to everyone you sleep with?”

He stifled a smile and pursed his lips to think. “I wish I did. Unfortunately, no. Just you, for now”

You folded your arm and poked your tongue from the inside of your cheek “Well you can’t do this…”

“Huh?” He asked with his back to you, busily chopping more onions and garlic then mixing it to the cooking pan.

“Rules.”

“Rules? What part of the agreement is cooking prohibited? If my memory serves me right, you failed to mention it, so I guess this is pretty legal”

“Okay, fair point. Then why are you doing this? On my apartment, on my kitchen, on my food? Is it all for me?”

Yoongi was taken aback, but he needed to answer promptly “What, you think I’m starting to like you more than a neighbor… with benefits?” he scoffed “Such confidence, woman” he turned around to snicker, playfully flailing his arm with a cooking chopstick on hand.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help it” you merrily bemoan in retrospect and shrugged. “Didn’t you say you’ve always fancied me?”

“Naked, I fancied you naked” he corrected.

“I don’t know, sounds the same to me” You watched him perfectly toss the food while cooking, like a pro. “Hmm, impressive. Are you trying to make me weak on my knees?”

“Well, are you?” he asked stoically, as he turned the stove off and finally served you a hung-over breakfast he made out from the ingredients available in your refrigerator.

“Almost, but not quite” you playfully bite your lip, fretfully eating your smile.

“You’re welcome for the breakfast Y/N” he winked, putting his share on a plate and sat on a stool right in front of you.

“Thank you, Chef Min Yoongi” you ducked your head, to tamper down whatever you were feeling in the morning. You weren’t a prayerful person but today you decided to whisper one from your seat. You needed it, a whole of it, before chowing down your freshly cooked food made by the Chef himself in front of you. Testing you by the minute.

He watched you while you shut your eyes and chant something inaudibly, and without you knowing-- he smiled.

--

“Min PD nim?” one of the staff knocked on his door. Yoongi, as usual, was busy listening to the tracks he made from last week now that it is back to being Monday again.

“Han Young-woo-ssi said he wanted to talk to you sir…”

“Oh, what about?” He abruptly stopped and turned to face her.

“It sounded like it’s a personal matter sir… so I didn’t ask him any further. He is waiting outside your office sir, would you like me to tell him to come back after lunch?”

He shook his head “No-no, it’s fine. I am a little bit stressed too, I was just looking for the right lyrics to the melody but maybe talking to him might help” he went out from his seat and decided to see his visitor from the same company but in the Accounting department. Was it about his demands against the company for paying for his daily coffee needs? Or was it about denying his request to fund him for another set stereos?

“Yoongi! My friend!” Young-woo delightedly extends his arm to give him a quick hug and pat on his back.

“Hey Han!” he sat on the couch and Young-woo followed, sitting on a chair adjacent to Yoongi.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I saw you last Saturday night in the streets of Itaewon”

He chuckled “Yeah, I decided to do some carrying as part of my daily workout routine”

Young-woo nods solemnly “I know the person you were carrying. She’s bad news…”

He furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment to comprehend the sudden change of his tone.

“I knew her from college, she’s been sleeping with a lot of men... maybe until now. Just avoid her if you can. She might give you STDs or something… Just stop Yoongi. I don’t know if it’s because she slept with Seokjin? Which probably made her impertinently bold and decides to slut around”

Yoongi thwarted him from finishing his sentence. “Seokjin? You mean Kim Seokjin?”

“Yes, your high school best friend and my frat brother, Seokjin. Did he never tell you about her?”

“He mentioned a few girls, but I don’t remember her being mentioned at all.”

“Well, I guess it’s because she’s not worth mentioning”

Yoongi pressed his fingers on his temple “Do you really see girls that way, Young-woo?”

Young-woo was left fazed at his question “I-Uh…”

“Cut to the chase Young-woo, I have a lot of things on my table. It’s not my cup of tea to entertain sexist conversation especially during working hours…”

“I’m just warning you. As friend, that’s it”

“Well, if that’s all there is” He stood up and tilted his head, locking his gaze against Young-woo fervently “I’m an adult who knows exactly what I’m doing. It’s none of your business who I want to deal with day and night, unless it’s about work. I appreciate you being worried and all, but clearly at the end of the day I’ll be responsible with who and when I’ll be fucked and who gets to fuck me over.”

Young-woo conceded and sighs from his seat “I love your tenacity, my friend. But she is different from the girls you used to date, especially your ex” he stood up and walked towards the hallway

Yoongi just nodded. “Okay, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Past remains in the past. Live in the present brother, worry about your future... not mine. Well there goes the exit door, if that’s really all you have to say to me. I don’t like entertaining sexism as a visitor” he points him through the exit door as he watches Young-woo leave.

He rolled his eyes, regretting the fact that he gave Young-woo his precious time so conveniently, just to listen to a back story he was clearly uninterested in. What’s the point really? If everyone is living now in the present, what’s there to huddle over in the past? One thing’s for sure, he’s going to spend a few more minutes at the receiving area to look at his phone and find some inspiration over his social media.

Randomly scrolling, he ended up in Seokjin’s profile, entertaining himself with his random pictures with witty captions, illustrations of cute alpacas and his daily dad jokes on his Instagram stories. His eyes suddenly widened when he shifted it to the next photograph and saw a familiar face from Seokjin’s story.

“Was it true?” he breathed.

--

“Yeah, that sounds about right, I assure you Madame Song. Tomorrow is going to be epic” you nodded.

“I’m looking forward to it Ms. Y/N” she giggled, standing up from her seat, ready to leave.

You did the same and bowed before your client, displaying your gratitude and respect. You took a quick glance from the window beside the seat and saw the sun glaring hard on the pavement “Are you sure, is it really okay if you leave right now? Didn’t you say you just had your facial? The sun is pretty hard. Do you at least have an umbrella?”

“Oh, do you? Sorry I forgot mine, can I borrow? I promise to return it to you tomorrow” she asked a bit warily. Of course, they never do.

“Sure” you pulled out your foldable umbrella from your bag and handed it to her.

“Thanks dear. Oh, if you must, bring your plus one” she winked.

You dropped your head and chuckled “C’mon Madame Song, you know I don’t do plus one. I’ll ask Lara to cover that for me instead”

She paused. Her attention was momentarily stolen by something, or someone in front of the cafe window “Well, why don’t you go ask him?” she puckered her lips and pointed out towards the man entering inside the café from its door way.

“What?” you chuckled in disbelief “I can’t just go ask a random stranger and tell-- ” you turned around to see who she was referring to, until you stopped mid-sentence choking on your words.

A man in black shirt, black leather jacket, and a black baseball cap? It must be….

“Seokjin?”

He turned around to see who was calling him “Y/N?” He raised both his brows in genuine surprise.

“Mm...Seems, everything’s pretty planned out now don’t you think?” Madame Song whispered to you close before leaving you on your own. Grinning from ear to ear, knowing she made a lucky guess to find you a prospect date, who isn’t after all a stranger.

“Hey, it’s been so long! It’s nice to see you here!”

“Must be cupid’s work, huh?” Madame Song winked at you both as she left the cafe with your umbrella. You shook your head a little, embarrassed to hear her tease. Then faced the half-god handsome man before you.

You sat back on your chair and offered Seokjin the vacant seat on the front.

“Hm, I honestly don’t know what to say to that, are you working? Was she a client?” he watched you write something down on your planner for a moment.

“Yeah, and we just finished” you clicked the pen and threw your arms up to stretch “and now I can relax. What’s up Kim?”

“Ikseon-dong is where I usually take my walk for coffee and look for inspiration.I like it here, it’s traditional and yet still a very relevant place” he turned around to look at the menu board, attached above on the counter.

“Ah, I see you’re working too…” you nodded. “You know their dirty chai latte is pretty good.” You pointed it out. “So, how’s your agency treating you? I’ve seen you in TDN channel the other night, and got to the scene where you were crying after being left by Park Shin Hye… that was pretty moving”

He laughed with his eyes wrinkling, charming as always. “It was hard convincing myself to cry over a fictional argument revolving over me leaving a Peanut Butter open for long...”

“In her defense, she thought you were cheating on her over Yoon Eun Hye. But before replying to that, tell me who you will end up with, is it her or Yoon Eun Hye? Because if you asked me Yoon Eun Hye might be evil, but I totally understand where she's coming from. So yeah, I’m Team Yoon Eun Hye all the way!” You lowered yourself on the table and leaned towards him.

He squints his eyes and went forward “Not if you watch until the last episode, or you could bribe me with the most expensive thing on the menu”

You shot at him and sighed “Fine, you leave me no choice Mister Celebrity, sir. One Eggs Benedict and House Coffee, on me” he chuckled, knowing fully that those were the cheapest on the menu.

“It’s nice to know you didn’t change at all, Y/N” he gulped and smiled at you.

“Oh yeah? Don’t be disappointed if you found it to be untrue.” You stood up and ordered something for your old flame, well almost… or so you would like to think, if it wasn’t for his groupies who extinguished before it even began.

You two tried to catch on a lot of things, while taking a few photos together. Seokjin has an insane amount of following, compared to the number he had back in college (but was still considerably huge). Yet he wasn’t bothered at all, he still posted whatever he pleased.

Although he was now hyper-aware of everything online, especially the fact that some things might get him in trouble or even getting others into trouble. He made sure to explain things about what was happening in his caption before posting anything. Just to spare them from unnecessary and unfounded hate from his fans.

“Fancy bumping to a college friend *insert smiley emoji*” he said out loud while mindlessly typing it as he hit the post button.

“Why didn’t you put a sticker on my face?”

“Why should I? I already spare you from being tagged. That way, you can still keep your identity hidden, but this face?” He pouts “Too pretty to be kept away”

You blushed, abruptly shaking your head ready to say something as your defense retorted “Is this your way to get in my pants, now that you’re some big shot?”

He folds his arms and twitches his lips to the corner “You thought so lowly of me, I could’ve dated you. Should’ve asked you out 11 years ago, but I didn’t because I was afraid you’d get in to trouble because of me… yet, still you did”

You paused for a moment. “Seokjin. I—”

He batted his eyes and smiled “That night at the frat party, I was about to ask you... but chickened out last minute. I should be the one saying sorry, Y/N. I wish I was there for you; I could only imagine what your college life might have been. How are you holding it?”

You croaked, left momentarily speechless at the sudden revelation that was gradually unfolding before you “I—I’m fine. Thanks to Hoseok, my life from there became bearable. I’m sure he’s the one who shut all the people who were spreading rumors, he just wouldn’t tell”

He nods. “What if he truly wasn’t? Like maybe, somebody other than Hoseok did it for you?”

“You?” you opened your mouth in disbelief.

“It’s the least I could do. Besides, I’m partly to blame '' His phone suddenly buzzed as he pointed a finger to excuse himself for a moment to receive it. “Hey baby, yeah. I’m just here in Ikseon-dong? I’m in “Flower Yard Cafe” Meet? Where?... Okay. I love you, see you in a bit”

You lump on your lips, suppressing a chuckle. For a moment you thought you had a chance with Mr. WorldWide Handsome himself, but man you were eons late. Certainly, there are many times you want to hurl yourself over him regardless if he actually wants you too.

You were then so close to not giving any more damn to the ladies who would build a fort to push any of his prospects away. Yet maybe that’s how the world works, maybe you don’t deserve all the nice things because that’s how you were designed to live your life… or maybe it’s how the world chastises you for choosing to live a life in debauchery. Either way, You and Seokjin will never happen. That’s pretty much engraved in your destiny, if that’s not obvious enough.

“I’m sorry I got to go, my girlfriend’s having a fit”

“Hm, maybe you should delete your post about us?”

“Girl, you think I’m doing this for you? I want to annoy the girls who shit on my chance with you…”

You laughed. “Hm. Openly flirting with me still? You are playing on dangerous water, sir… How about we try next life Kim, yeah?”

“Ofcourse, just don’t get swoon with my face alone when that happens.”

You nodded in between chuckles as you bid goodbye and watched him leave the cafe. You began fixing your things and putting everything on your handbag when suddenly you heard the sound of drizzle.

“Ugh, should’ve known! That blaring sun definitely looks like it’s gonna invite rain soon... I gave my umbrella to Mrs. Song!” you complained to no one, whining softly from your seat.

Not wanting to spend another hour inside, especially when you needed to send a few paperwork to your boss for a report, you decided to just throw yourselves over the harsh rain “Know what? Fuck it, let’s just run and get wet again” you pushed the door away from you, ready to run while holding on to your handbag that was barely covering your head.

As the door swiveled far, you began to notice that the rain that was supposed to be falling over your head wasn’t just…there. You turned around and found Yoongi. His arms extended to you, holding an umbrella for you. You watched him smile despite slightly getting showered.

“Yoongi?”

“Why are you always asking the obvious? Hey Y/N” He scooted over inside the umbrella, arms pressing and pulling you close to him. His free hand held on to the handle slightly tilted, making sure you remained dry than he is. You stood there, completely frozen. Too stunned to see him at a time when you needed someone.

“You certainly like to get wet often, huh?” he snickered, trying to diffuse the momentary silence.

“It depends on the situation… I-uh… what are you doing here?”

“I was just having a walk. The weather looks good” he subtly gulped, eating his lie. After seeing you on Seokjin’s instagram, he immediately called and asked where he was. Seokjin, knowing Yoongi fully for years, did not bother to ask any more questions as he simply answered where he is currently located.

“Oh yeah?” you tilt your head to look at the dark sky.

“Well, it was, until it suddenly started to rain. Where are you headed?”

“Back in my office, just a few blocks from here. You?”

“What a coincidence, I am too”

“You also work there?” you chuckled

He rolled his eyes and sighed “Okay you got me, just let me take you there unscathed. I’ll go back to strolling around the city  looking for inspiration for the song I am working on. But until then, I have to see you get there, so that I could put myself at ease knowing you went to your work completely dry.”

“Aw, that is so gentleman of you. You better credit me when you find that inspiration you were saying” you playfully teased, knowing fully well you’ll give zero contribution to his work.

He chuckled. Making you suck an air to see another gummy smile from him, which he is very frugal of him to do.

“Perhaps I will,” he shrugged, smiling weakly as he faced the street. You swiftly turn to face him, bewildered to see his sincere intent. Will he really? Thoughts were starting to run around your head.

Clearly, when was the last time you’ve been held by a man? Was it yesterday during sex with Jinyoung a fellow regular from the cafe next to your office? Or was it during a dodgeball game during 8th grade where Taecyeon, your crush pulled you away from getting hit by a ball? Or perhaps the time when your father took you in his arms when you got bruised? You could no longer remember, because right in the middle of the rain, underneath the transparent umbrella, you watched the rain fall while Yoongi was there holding you in his arms…and that was all you could think.

For the very first time, you felt safe and secured. It was warm and seemed full of ardent affection. You failed to put words into what you were feeling, because evidently you had nothing on it from your catalog for inner feelings. Yoongi remains to hold onto you close, while continuing to walk on the streets under the heavy rain... And you yielded unto him.

The feeling was so foreign and novel that you were starting to feel scared. You are so afraid of the feeling of this unfamiliarity, and perhaps the thought of it that it might one day become … too familiar.

Suddenly it dawned on you, in this seemingly game of feelings like seesaw, he was now taking the leverage because you were starting to get your high.

And for the first time in years, you were unsure how this would turn out.

A/N: Ahhhh THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING TIME! I can finally share my song inspo for this  chapter. I know the lyrics isn’t appropriate to the story, but I was just vibing to this while I was watching this video when I was doing my cardio on a machine. I quickly thought of THAT scene and I was all too UwU the whole time. Anyway, hope you all have a great day! THANKING MY BETA READER FOR GIVING HER PRECIOUS TIME FOR THIS 🙃 love you! you know who you are 😉

[satendou]

⟼ some kind of disaster

⍣ all time low series | previous | next | 2/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary:  tendo knows he is, he was just waiting for you to figure it out  

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: angst, breakups, akaashi being a good friend, semi being (maybeb too much of) an asshole

⇢ word count: 3496

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: 1) this is unedited. 2) i have a serious complex about this whole series now due to how well monster did, so i’m sorry if anyone is disappointed by this chapter.

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

They say falling in love is easy, it’s falling out of love that’s hard. What they fail to mention is how hard it is to still be in love even when you know it isn’t what’s best for you.

And right then, Tendo wasn’t good for you.

It had been several months since that first night and, though you had known it wouldn’t be easy, you had never expected it to be like it was. He had more issues than you could have imagined and a staunch refusal to talk about them. You had your guesses about why which you tried to understand, but the way he handled any small argument or misunderstanding in your relationship was unbearable and unhealthy.

Even now, he wasn’t speaking to you and it was tearing you apart. You weren’t even aware of what you had done because he wouldn’t tell you and you couldn’t for the life of you recall having done anything specific.

“Are you gonna do it today?” Akaashi asked, his words soft, full of understanding. The classical literature class you shared with him was over, and he hovered beside your chair waiting for you to gather your thoughts and your items up. He knew most of what had been happening with Tendo and sympathized because he also knew how enamored you had become with him. It was understandable-- you had been dating for a while, but he had seen a slow decline in your mood over the last few months. After the honeymoon period was over, he would guess, and the little issues that always crop up in relationships started to manifest. 

He recalled the night two weeks ago when you had come to him asking for advice, and it all poured out over takeout and wine. Even Bokuto, who always saw the bright side of things, remained in silent shock at everything happening behind the scenes.

You said he was never violent or angry or irrational. He would just...ignore you for hours or days on end, sometimes for things you couldn’t even determine, then come back like nothing had happened. If you did have an argument, no matter how small, he would just walk away without even trying to come to an agreement, then refuse to speak to you like normal until he decided he was done with that.

Akaashi’s heart broke for you as you sobbed into first your hands and then Bokuto’s shoulder, though he couldn’t refrain from smiling at Bokuto’s sympathy tears. His partner really was too cute for words.

Then you had spoken the dreaded words he was sure had been sitting in your throat for a lot longer than it had taken you to come to him.

“I think I’m going to break up with him.”

The relief that drew across your face as you said that was evident that you weren’t thinking about it, that you just needed support to go through with it. Of course, he and Bokuto were more than willing to give you that.

“I think so,” you murmured, taking your time packing up your stuff. The text you had sent at the beginning of class went unanswered, but marked that it was read two minutes after you sent it.

We need to talk.

It was too obvious what that meant and you were dreading the confrontation to come. You weren’t worried about him getting aggressive. In fact, you were pretty sure you knew how this was going to go down. Like every other argument, he was going to pretend it wasn’t happening and walk away.

The door was too loud when it opened, the students out in the hall too happy when Akaashi opened it. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Tendo standing across from the door staring out the window with a pensive expression. Then it clenched with all the emotions you were feeling, good and bad and your head spun with anxiety. He looked so sad, his usually vibrant red eyes dull and blank as he watched whatever was going on in the quad.

“I’ll wait for you, okay?” Akaashi asked. You nodded absently, eyes still locked on Tendo. For most people, he would be afraid they were going to renege on their resolve and give into the false promises of change. But the change he had witnessed in you over the last few months and the quiet sadness in your softly spoken words a couple of weeks back had given him a different feeling. You would go through with it, and it was going to shatter you.

Tendo still didn’t look at you when you called his name and, if you had been wavering at all, that shut it down. But he followed you anyway, until you found a secluded spot down an empty hallway. 

You took a deep, stuttery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, and his voice was icy. He didn’t even seem to care about the tears starting to fall or the way you swiped them away. But it pierced his heart, knowing it was him that caused them, and he knew what was coming. He had known it would end this way the moment he fell for you. He had ended up hurting you just as he’d said he would, and yet he’d let it get this far anyway.

“I’m sorry for whatever it is I did this time. And I’m sorry, but-- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you whispered, drawing him back to the present.

Silence followed those words. You still weren’t looking at him, so you missed the widening of those sleepy vermillion eyes you’d so come to love and the hands that caressed you so gently curling into fists at his sides.

He knew it, but couldn’t stop the surprise, even as the first crack appeared in his heart. “I-- What?”

It was so hard. Without meaning to, you had fallen in love with him, flaws and baggage and all. You should’ve known better. You had known it wouldn’t be easy to love him but it...it was so much harder than you had been expecting. Too much of your time was spent wondering what you had done to upset him this time and why he was ignoring you, because Tendo didn’t talk about his feelings with you. He left them on a back burner on high until they were so burnt they were unrecognizable, and when he was done being pouty he would seek you out and act like nothing was wrong.

There was no communication in your relationship-- if you could even call it that at this point. You couldn’t find a point to being together if every other day you had done something new to drive him away. It was taxing on you, your mental health plummeting because you were constantly worried about if something was wrong with you. It wasn’t until one of your other friends pointed out how different you were that you turned inward and discovered that particular truth.

You were struggling to keep it together by then, the pain in your heart and the tightness in your throat threatening to overwhelm you. You still hadn’t looked at Tendo. It was too hard-- you would never be able to get the words out if he was staring at you with hurt and confusion. 

Taking a steadying breath, you said, “I can’t fix you, Tendo. This-- This thing we have isn’t healthy, it’s-- we spend more time f-fighting than we do-- or you spend more time ignoring* me for things I-- I don’t even know why half the time and I’m constantly wondering what I’ve done--”

You stopped.

Your thoughts were racing in time with the throbbing pain in your chest and your voice had risen into a high-pitched, breathless mess and you couldn’t think. Breathing in deep, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall as they may just to give you some relief from the pressure in your throat and once again you missed the look of fear on Tendo’s face.

He’d seen it coming. He had been expecting it for weeks, but didn’t know he would still be blindsided by it. It was his own fault, expecting you to chase after him and deal with his bullshit on your own. He knew it wasn’t fair, but every time he considered the alternative, he clammed up. Still, he wanted to reach out, to comfort you and tell you he would change, but he knew it wasn’t true.

His problems were deep rooted and it wasn’t his partner’s job to put him back together-- even he knew that.

So his nails continued to bite into his palms at his side as he let you spill every pent up emotion, just waiting for the final door to slam in his face.

“But it isn’t me,” you whispered, so quiet he almost missed it. At long last, you lifted your head up and met his eyes. Those beautiful red eyes that you often found yourself lost in were bright and clear and dead, not a trace of emotion anywhere in them. Like he didn't care, and that only made you cry harder. “I know it’s you and I can’t do it anymore. Everything you do makes me-- I’m not the problem, Tendo.” He flinched at the use of his surname and you ignored it. “I love you, you know that? I don’t know when or how, but I do know why. But I also know we aren’t healthy and this relationship is-- it isn’t a relationship. It just isn’t. I don’t know what it is but I--”

He swallowed as your shoulders fell. The words he wanted to say bubbled on his tongue and he bit them back. Hearing you say them now was a cruelty he knew he deserved after the way he’d been treating you, but he still wanted to lash out and break you like you had broken him. But as a last kindness for what you had given him, he only turned and walked away.

The silence that remained spoke volumes like the space that had developed between you, and you left as well, leaving everything behind.

Akaashi was waiting for you just around the corner from the hall, watching Tendo shove through the crowd and out of sight. His hand was warm against your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears. For now, they had stopped, but he knew more would come.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, in some regards. The weight of your feelings for him still remained, and you knew they would take some time to slide off as well. Akaashi was watching you with kind sympathy, his quiet company a relief as you looped your arm with his, letting him lead you out into the warm spring air. It seemed almost cruel that the weather was so nice when you were so miserable, and a few more tears spilled. 

Guilt accompanied every breath that you felt so light following your breakup, but you knew it was for the best. Nothing good would come of remaining with Tendo when he was so mixed up-- you couldn’t make him happy if he couldn’t make himself happy, and vice versa.

Bokuto’s voice rang loud over the sound of the rest of the crowd, waving his hand above his head at the pair of you. 

“Shall we go get something to eat? And it’s Friday, you can stay with us, if you’d like,” Akaashi said, his voice soothing and melodic to your ringing ears. Suddenly you were more than grateful to have him and Bokuto in your life-- even if the latter was a bit obnoxious.

Like now, he was literally tugging you and Akaashi along behind him, talking nonstop about food, not listening to a word Akaashi was saying. But when you looked over to your friend, he didn’t look aggravated. He looked content and amused, staring at his partner with a soft fondness that made you almost jealous as you thought about when Tendou would look at you that same way.

There was a sharp pang in your heart as you realized he probably wouldn’t look twice at you again. Because that’s just how Tendou was. He ignored his problems and waited until they just went away. And you needed more than that.

i crashed down from a high that felt so real i never knew how much it would hurt to feel you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal you gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want

“You’re a fool, you know that?” Semi said. Though it was posed as a question, Tendo knew perfectly well that Semi was telling him what he already knew. As soon as Tendo had shown up in front of him, Semi had snapped that and he could only nod in agreement. “I always knew you’d do this. _____ was perfect for you but you--”

“I know, alright,” Tendou snapped, curling his fists into hands. It was almost impossible for him to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall since he’d first gotten your text an hour and a half ago. Like the coward he was, he had ignored it and met you outside your class instead, a part of him hoping it would just go away if you saw him. But the hopelessness in your eyes when you had looked at him told him he wouldn’t get his wish this time. “I know I’m a fucking idiot, and _____ was always too good for me.”

A flash of your face and the echo of your words replayed in his addled brain.

“I don’t know what I’ve done this time.”

You hadn’t done anything. You had never done anything. He was a coward when it came to arguments but when he was ignoring you it wasn’t because of you.

It was him, all his fears bubbling to the surface and an attempt to push you away, to make you realize you were worth more than whatever he had to offer.

“Whatever we have is unhealthy.”

“It isn’t even a relationship.”

He was unhealthy, he knew he was, and it had driven you away from him. He only had himself to blame.

Semi huffed, watching Tendo closely. He was doing that blank thing he did to mask his feelings when he couldn’t handle them, turning into himself instead of applying the burden to someone else. He was sure he was doing it to you in your relationship too, and you probably didn’t understand because Tendo wasn’t being open. It was a vicious cycle, one Semi had seen too often. “I’m glad you realize, you idiot.” Then, more softly, he said, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I know you love her.”

Tendo flinched, his eyes closing.

*“I love you, you know that?”*

He would have said them back in a heartbeat, given the opportunity. He wanted so desperately to say them but the words had stuck in his throat, and the less selfish part of him knew it was for the best. The situation was already fucked up enough without him stirring it up more. Saying those words back would have hurt more than helped, especially because, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t change.

At least he could say he had done something right, in letting you go. 

You would flourish without him holding you back and weighing you down with all his problems and baggage.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Semi’s voice cut through Tendo’s derogatory thoughts, and he flinched again. He hated that smug, all knowing tone even though he was usually spot on.

“Alright then, oh great oracle. What am I thinking?” he asked, shuffling along down the sidewalk towards their apartment. Trying to think of anything besides you, he tried to remember what was in their fridge to eat. Old pizza is all he could think of, from when you had come over and--

Nope.

Semi snorted at Tendo’s sad attempt at humor. Not that all of his attempts weren’t sad but his heart really wasn’t in it this time. “You’re telling yourself it was for the best and how you aren’t good enough and blah blah blah. You’re still an idiot.”

“Would you stop saying that?” Tendo asked, looking up to the sky. It was still early afternoon, the sky cloudless, the air pleasantly warm. If circumstances were different he would be spending it with you by his side-- then again, probably not. He hadn’t properly spoken to you or seen you in a few days and it wasn’t going to change today either. “My ears hurt.”

And his heart. He could feel a slow throbbing building up between his ears. A migraine was the final nail he deserved in his coffin and the sadistic part of him wanted to exacerbate it as much as he could. Just to give himself something else to focus on.

“Fine, fine. Just one more time. You’re a goddamn idiot,” Semi said, glaring at him. He knew he should feel worse for his friend than he was, but he also deserved it. There was only so much sympathy he could give when Tendo refused to help himself. He had never been happier than when he started dating you and Semi couldn’t go ten minutes without hearing your name. Now Tendo was slumped over as they walked, feet shuffling against the sidewalk as he stared blankly ahead, and Semi sighed. “Can I give you some advice? You know, friend to idiot?”

Tendo groaned, rolling his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. Semi meant well-- mostly-- and usually gave good advice. Now, if only he would stop trying to make Tendo feel worse. “Sure, I guess. We both know I won’t listen though.”

Semi nodded, snickering behind his hand. The signal for the crosswalk changed, throngs of people instantly flooding the street. They flowed through and around each other, becoming separated for a few moments, until they met on the sidewalk on the other side.

“When you two are together, were together, I’ve never seen you happier. And Akaashi says that _____ is-- was-- too. Do you not trust her?” Semi asked, and watched the way Tendo froze up and paled, inhaling sharply. But he didn’t immediately say no, and that was telling. “If you don’t trust her, you’ll never maintain a relationship, with her or anyone else. Do you really want that, ‘Tori?”

He hadn’t considered that. Not trusting you wasn’t the exact issue. He felt he could tell you anything-- so long as anything didn’t entail things that might annoy you or make him a burden on you. His biggest fear was putting too much of himself into you only to overwhelm you, driving you away. That had backfired pretty spectacularly though, if he had to say so, and now he was left to wonder what would have happened if he had gone that route.

“No, I guess not,” he answered. To anyone else it would have sounded callous and uncaring, but Semi had known him a lot longer and recognized the sound of a Tendo who was in serious thought.

“Then you need to change. I get that you’re afraid, but those bullies from elementary and highschool shouldn’t keep holding you back. And who knows, maybe it isn’t too late with _____,” Semi said with a shrug, and smirked at the way Tendo perked up at that. He deflated just as rapidly a split second later, but it was to be expected. 

The smirk fell as Semi considered. The way things stood, you were better off because Tendo was unhealthy, and probably not in a good place to be in a relationship. He didn’t fault you for breaking it off-- not when he would have done the same. Still, he’d like to see him happy again, especially with you. But he couldn’t guess if Tendo would take it to heart and try, or whether or not you would wait around for him to decide and figure himself out.

Shrugging, he glanced at the barbecue place they were passing by and reached out, tugging Tendo to a stop. When he nodded towards it, Tendou sighed.

“Sure, I’m down. Shouldn’t be sad on an empty stomach.”

Semi groaned. “You are such an idiot.”

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

⇥ masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @sluttony​, @visaintes​, @yunhosblackgf​, @super-noya​, @byebyes-world​, @newfriendjen​, @atsunakaashi​

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 23

Chapter Summary: It turns out going home to Austin wasn’t all it cracked up to be. Elsewhere, Jensen has an interesting conversation with an old friend. 

Warnings: Language, angst, dealing with mental health issues

Word Count: 3.2K+

Author’s Note: I just want to start here by reiterating that this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. I mean no harm to Danneel or her beautiful family, and I have a zero-tolerance policy on this blog. I see and legit forms of hate towards any wife and you are blocked. That being said, I hope you enjoy this part xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly. 

Two months later…

When Y/n had stepped onto the tarmac in Austin, she had believed wholeheartedly that this could be a fresh start for her. Or at the very least, she hoped going back to her status quo would help to dull that empty feeling she now held in her chest. And it had worked, at first. Catching up on everything had been just the distraction she was looking for, but as time went on and the workload steadied off, it became harder for her to mask all the emotions.

It was something she had done numerous times before. A coping mechanism that as much as she knew how unhealthy it was, she always found herself reverting back to. This time was no different, and Y/n had found herself working herself into the ground. She was doing everything she could to make sure that work was all that could consume her thoughts, which turned out great in the end for Et Cetera. 

Last week, she had received an email from the conglomerate Coty, one of the world’s largest beauty brands, requesting a meeting with her and her lawyers. Obviously, she had been immediately interested, the butterflies in her stomach on full alert even after the meeting had ceased. 

 “Just… think about our offer. We don’t need an answer right away, we understand that this is a big decision for you. We hope to hear from you soon.” Mr. Baltussen, the CPO for Coty, slid her over a copy of his business card along with the legal documents that spelled out their offer. 

“Of course, thank you.” Y/n nodded her head as the small group of executives let themselves out of the conference room. As the door closed behind them, she snapped her head to her lawyer next to her, who already had her nose in the paperwork. 

“What do you think?”

“I think this all looks pretty legitimate. Y/n this is a more than generous offer.” Her lawyer’s eyes quickly scanned the words before flitting up to meet Y/n’s. 

“So you think I should accept it?”

“Honestly?” Y/n nodded, pleading for an honest answer. “Only you can make that decision, but this says to me that no matter what decision you make, you’ll be just fine.”

“Damn, I was hoping for a more definite answer.” She dropped her head into her folded arms on the table top.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but I’m here for you no matter what.” 

 That conversation had been all that she thought about for the rest of the night and was the first thing on her mind when she had woken the next morning. Having the day off, since it was the weekend, meant she had more time to dwell on it. At first, she had been adamant about declining their offer, but the more she thought about it the more appealing it became. After all, her method of shoving everything down to avoid feeling was no longer working for her. Being in Austin, where he also lived, tended to grate on some of her nerves. She often found herself tense when out in public, which she fully understood how irrational it was, afraid that she would run into him somewhere. Her heart just wasn’t ready for that quite yet. Even with her and Jared talking again, things still hurt. He was family and she would never be able to get away from him, but Coty was offering her the ability to get about just as far away as she could from the mess she had created. 

Y/n had pulled her laundry from the drier as she went about doing her weekend chores. She plopped onto the couch with the basket in front of her and turned on the news for some background noise. The program was just finishing up as she paid no attention to it and its switch to Entertainment Tonight. She was just about finished with folding when the host’s words caught her attention. 

“Coming up next, Supernatural star Jensen Ackles and ex fiance Danneel Harris caught cozying up to each other for lunch in downtown LA.” Y/n snapped her head up to the tv and dropped the panties in her hand back into the basket at her feet. She searched blindly for the remote to turn up the tv as the program returned. 

“The two ex lovers were seen having what seemed like a friendly, and funny, lunch together. Could this be the start of a rekindling romance? Only time will tell as their reps declined for comment.” Images of the two flashed across the screen, paparazzi photos of the two of them, both had wide smiles on their faces as they sat next to each other on a patio table. A pair of sunglasses sat on both of their faces, but even she could see the small crinkles around his eyes from that beautiful smile on his face. 

Her heart sank into her stomach as she sat back on her couch and pulled her knees into her chest. All those emotions she had fought so hard to push down were now bubbling back up to the surface and threatening to explode out of her throat in a sob. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she fought the stinging in her nose. 

Deep down she knew she had no right to feel the way she was. After all, Jensen had ended things with her, and she certainly didn’t leave the door open for him to come running back in. But all she could think about was his promise to her, his promise that he was over the one woman that had the pleasure of wearing his ring on her finger. The images on her television now told her a different story, though, and that brought up every insecurity in her. 

What was it that Danneel had that she didn’t? There were the obvious physical differences that she wouldn’t even dare to delve into in her fragile state. But what else about her made her more desirable? Was she smarter, funnier, better in the bedroom…

Ugh! Y/n ran her hands through her hair, tugging gently at the roots. She was so far beyond over feeling like this. She was supposed to be better at handling herself when she got this way, but more so, she was supposed to be over comparing herself to other women. It had been so long since she had relapsed like this, and she had reached her breaking point. Y/n was not okay anymore, and she needed help. 

****

Y/n rifled through her living room, tossing pillows and cushions from her couch. She had been so sure that she had left her laptop on the coffee table when she went to bed last night. It was nowhere to be found. Not in her bedroom, living room, not even in her kitchen. 

“Damn it.” she growled to herself. There was no more time to look for it, she had to be at Jared and Gen’s soon, so she would just have to push back this search until later. Quickly she put her house back into a semi clean order and ran out the door. Luckily, her brother didn’t live too far from her and she was still on time when she pulled up in their drive. 

Three little bodies had the front door pulled open before she could even open her car door. “Aunt Y/n!” Odette was the first one out the door. Y/n knelt down in front of her niece, sweeping her up into her arms and squeezing her tight. It had been longer than usual since she had seen Jared and his kids, in person at least. Things were still… tense to say the least between them. They were still working on their issues… slowly. 

Y/n picked up the toddler and made her way inside, hugging the boys as she went. Gen was waiting just inside the door, offering her a tight hug as well. 

“We miss you around here, you know that?” Gen smiled as she let down Odette and the kids ran off to continue what they were doing before she had pulled up. 

“I know. We are getting there.” Y/n agreed, it really had been too long. She missed her family more than she had thought. They had been so close since forever, that she never understood what it was like to be at a distance from them. 

“Then come around more often, please?” Gen urged her sister in law to follow her into the kitchen. 

“Gen,” Y/n tried, casting her glance away from the woman who was pleading with her. That was the last thing she needed to hear right now. “I have some news.” 

“Should I grab Jared…” She started towards the stairs that lead to their second floor before Y/n moved to stop her. 

“No please, just listen.” Gen leaned against the island, giving Y/n her full attention. “I had a meeting on Friday with executives from Coty. They uh,” She chuckled, still in disbelief that this was even happening. “They want to buy my majority shares in Et Cetera.” 

“Wow, Y/n that is huge.” Genevieve’s word’s didn’t match the inflection in her voice or the crease that appeared between her brows. She was just as skeptical as Y/n had been when they first presented her the offer. 

“That’s not all. Coty offered me a VP position where I would be in charge of US operations. My lawyer said it’s a more than generous offer since I get a seven figure salary plus benefits and bonus’, not to mention the money from the sale of my shares.” Y/n played with the fruit in the bowl in front of her. 

“There’s more, isn't there?” The woman was too smart for her own good, Y/n thought to herself. Of course Gen picked up on that fact that she was holding something back. 

“I would need to relocate to New York.” Her face scrunched up as she prepared for some sort of outrage or surprise from Gen, but nothing came. Her next words were softer than she deserved.

“Do you want to accept the offer?” 

“I didn’t, at first.” Y/n admitted. That was the easy part, admitting to what had changed her mind on the other hand would be a lot more difficult, because she didn’t even want to admit it to herself. “But I don’t know now. It feels like everyone around me is moving on with their lives while I’m just stuck on some sort of endless corporate hamster wheel. I don’t feel the excitement for what I do anymore. Hell, I don’t feel anything anymore. Moving to New York could be just what I need.”

“And what about us? What about your family here in Texas.” 

“We have facetime. And I’ll always just be a plane ride away. I mean, it's not like I’m going to Yemen or something. We will have the holidays too.” The catch in her voice broke on her last sentence. She didn’t know who she was trying to convince more, herself or Gen. 

“Is this about Jensen?” Gen stood up straighter, her head cocking slightly as she spoke. 

Y/n huffed, what a stupid question. “Of course it is. He’s clearly moved on, our time together just a distant and horrible memory. Why shouldn’t I be afforded that same luxury?” 

“Come on, you don’t really believe that? Y/n, you have worked so hard for everything you have. And it is all yours, right here in Austin, where your family is too. Why throw all that away over some guy?” Gen’s hand found its way to Y/n’s shoulder, her fingers squeezing the flesh there to try and ground her. She hated seeing her making emotional decisions, especially ones that would affect not only her. 

“Jensen wasn’t just some guy, Gen. But I did lose him, and I’m trying my damndest here to move on, but I just haven’t found the ability to do so yet. That’s all I’m looking for.” Y/n cast her gaze down into her lap, where she was now picking at the cuticle on her thumb. 

“And all I’m saying is, don’t make this kind of decision without talking to the people around you. Get all the perspective you can, because I don’t think you are seeing this clearly right now.” 

“I hear you Gen, but I don’t know if I’ll change my mind again.” Gen nodded her understanding, only wishing she could get through to her sister in law somehow. She pulled her into her chest, hugging her again, because she didn’t know what else she could do. 

Neither of them noticed Jared standing on the landing of the stairs, catching every word his sister uttered. His heart sank as he listened to his sister talk. Never before had he heard the defeat in her voice. Y/n was one of the most strong willed people he knew, but she had just… given up. 

Before now, he hadn’t noticed how far she had fallen. But maybe that was because he wasn’t looking. The two of them didn’t talk like they used to, and right now he was feeling incredibly guilty about that. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Was it because all he could focus on was the steam coming out of his own ears when he found out she had been sleeping with his best friend? Or was it because as much as she chastised him for it, he still saw her as his baby sister and not the independent woman she had become. It was not like her at all to give up on something she had been working so hard towards. Y/n was not the type of woman to balk at money, and she certainly wouldn’t be the one to walk away from her family for any amount of it. 

Jared couldn’t see anymore why he had ever been so adamant that the two of them should not be together. Maybe it was because he knew too many of the intimate details of Jensen’s sex life to think about his sister in that way, or maybe it was even because he thought they wouldn’t be a good match. He could see it now though, having known both of them for so long. Jared shook his head at himself for not seeing truly how much those two were made for each other. He had only stood in their way when he should have been playing matchmaker. After all, didn’t he owe it to two of the most important people in his life to help them find their way to each other?

Jared vowed in that moment, he would fix this. He had to fix this. 

 Meanwhile, in Los Angeles...

The waiter set down their plates in front of them with a quick ‘enjoy’ before running off. Danneel bit into the salad placed in front of her, chewing delicalating as she decided on what to say. 

“You know, I have to say I was surprised you called me.” She thought back to his cryptic text that he had sent. ‘I’m in town and need to talk, can we get lunch?’ was all that it said. He had sent her the name of the cafe when she had agreed on meeting him. The two had exhausted the small talk in the time it took for their food to come and she wanted to get straight to the point. 

“I was too, to be honest. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think you may be one of the few people who can help me.” Jensen took a drink of his water, not looking in her direction. 

“Me? We haven’t exactly been pen pals all this time.” 

“I know, that means you have an outsider's view point on all of this. And you know me better than almost anyone, I trust your opinion.” Jensen stated. Danneel mouthed a ‘wow’ and sat back in her chair, wiping her face with her napkin. 

“This must be big then.” Danneel eyed the man sitting next to her, waiting for him to start with whatever it was he wanted to tell her. 

“God, where do I start, uh… I met this woman.” He began, his hand fiddling with the fork against his plate. 

“Mmmm.” Danneel hummed, the realization finally hitting her. 

“I… she is probably the best thing to ever happen to me. Actually, she’s a lot like you in some ways, brilliant, witty, and beyond beautiful. I fell for her, and I fell hard.” 

“So what is the problem exactly?” 

“I had to break things off with her. I thought what I was doing was best for her and me, but as time has gone on I’m not so sure. I can’t seem to get rid of this churning in my gut.” His tongue jetted out to wet his lower lip as he poured his heart out. This was not an easy thing for him to admit, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Danneel. 

“This girl wouldn’t happen to be Y/n Padalecki, would she?” A small smirk graced her features as Jensen snapped his gaze up to hers. 

“H...How?” 

“Well you weren’t exactly subtle when you ran after her at your birthday. Not to mention both of you were gone for too long and you returned with that little post coitus smirk you tend to get.” Danneel swirled her finger in a circle to emphasize her point. Jensen chuckled under his breath, his head shaking in disbelief. The noise grew in his chest before bubbling up into a full bellied laugh. Danneel couldn’t help but to join in, his laughter having that effect on people. 

“Would you believe that Jared asked me not to get involved with her?” Danneel nodded, she had known Jared for a while, and that did not surprise her at all. “We saw each other behind his back and when he found out, all hell broke loose. The two of them weren’t talking for two weeks.” 

“Oh, Jay…”

“Am I an idiot?” He asked her, his voice soft, as if afraid of her answer. 

“No, you are not an idiot. You’re in love, but you’re not an idiot.” Danneel held out her hand for him across the table. He took it and she squeezed his palm. “Listen, I know what it’s like to walk away from something because it is the best option for both of you, but I also believe that what’s meant to be, will be.”

“What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying if you truly love her and she loves you, you’ll find your way back to each other.” Danneel reiterated. 

“And what if we are too late?” Jensen tried. 

“Then don’t make yourself late. The least you can do is go to her and tell her how you feel. Then it’s in her hands.” 

“You make it sound so easy, Dee.” 

“Oh it’s not.” Danneel dropped his hand. “It’s downright terrifying. But do you want to live your life wondering what if?” Jensen shook his head. “Then go get her.”

Part 24

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfic​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​ @superfanficnatural​ @malfoysqueen14​ @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @kalesrebellion​ @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ @vicmc624​ @supernatural3002​ @winchester-writes​ @maralisa124​ @therollingstoners​ @parinarain​

[mumblino]

My self discovery journey

Heyo!

This is not what most of my posts are gonna be like, but I felt like it was important to talk about, and pride month is a perfect time to tell my (summarized) self discover journey~

My name is Brandon, although I don’t care if you call me Mumble. My pronouns change a lot since i don’t really know myself that well, but currently, they are He/Him, They/Them and It/Its. There are also days where I don’t really identify with any 3rd person pronouns, I’m just me, and that’s what I mean when I say No Pronouns.

I have Depression, Anxiety and Combination Type- ADHD, which is why i am on the internet a lot.

This is a very long post, so buckle up

//TW: Transphobia, Enbyphobia, Homophobia, Anxiety, Depression, ADHD,  Disordered Eating, Racism (not a huge part, but there are mentions of it), Self Harm, Mentions of a Psych Ward, Medication

I am a trans-masc, afab teenager. I am a romance-neutral aromantic (my interpretation of that is that I don’t mind romance, but I don’t actively want one or seek one out), and a sex-repulsed asexual (I am completely repulsed by the idea of engaging in sexual intercourse with anyone). and I am currently out to my friends, my mother, and my step-father, and am in the beginning-middle of my transition.

 I started questioning my gender identity when I was in early 7th grade, after my friend Saturn (pronouns are They/It/Bun) first came out to me as Non-Binary, and asked me to use They/Them pronouns.

I’ve never really actively considered myself straight. I’ve always seen love as between two people, and while I usually thought of a man and a woman, I have always been open to same sex couples. My best friend in 2nd grade actually introduced me to the LGBTQ+ community (not directly, but she did talk about those types of things quite a bit), and while I don’t want to assume her sexuality, I am fairly certain she experienced attraction to both boys and girls.

Before this, the only thing I really knew about trans people was that they existed, and I didn’t really care that much. However, my brother and my father had the idea that most LGBTQ+ people are “snowflakes” and since I didn’t know anything else, I believed them.

However, I wanted to learn more about Trans people, and how to be respectful and supportive of them. I did, at the time, consider myself to be LGBTQ+. In both 5th and 6th grade I thought I was either a lesbian or bisexual, since I didn’t know the difference between aesthetic attraction and sexual attraction, and well, people are pretty!

I also had this need to be very masculine, and I always have. I’ve always wanted to be a tom-boy, to be the masculine one in the group, be the Buttercup of my friends! And during th grade, as I started to learn more about LGBTQ+ people, I wanted to be the top. I wanted to be the stereotypical lesbian. The one with the androgynous style, chill attitude, and the one that scares the shit out of guys.

I’ve even said to myself (not knowing that being trans was a thing) that I want to be a boy. I’ve always identified more with the guys at my school. Not in a pick me girl way, but in a “I relate to you a lot, and I feel like I fit in with you” way.

 And to some extent, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is because of how often feminine guys are made fun of. I would not be surprised one bit if this is because femininity has always been demonized to me, especially if a guy is being feminine.

Anyways, through this dive into the Alphabet Mafia, I found out about asexuality. It really resonated with me, because I always found sexual things gross, but that also confused me. If I was asexual, why did I want to be masculine so badly? Why wasn’t I like the other girls? I’ve always felt like an outcast around most people, but especially girls. I never related to them. I always related to more masculine people, and boys especially.

After this, I decided to start looking into trans culture, and FTM culture especially. Through this I found Kalvin Garrah. I know now that he is very much a toxic influence on the Trans community, but he taught me a lot about trans culture. I also found Sam Collins and Jammidoger through him, who also taught me a lot (and are much more positive influences.) These FTM youtubers taught me a lot, and I started to realize, that I might be trans.

Because of this, I decided to ask Saturn if they could refer to me by They/Them pronouns. I went with They/Them because I didn’t feel like I passed well enough to use them. My hair was still long, I wasn’t out to my family, I still acted feminine sometimes, etc.

I would also like to make note of the fact that at the time, I was not very accepting of most gender identities outside of the “binary” and didn’t consider it a spectrum. I had a very close minded and rigid view of gender, and this is mostly due to family influences. This view is why I didn’t want to use He/Him pronouns, because I didn’t feel like I deserved it. I have since grown out of that viewpoint, reflected, and tried to do better when trying to understand other people’s identities.

This stress of my identity crisis, untreated mental conditions, toxic friends, and general struggle with school caused me to develop disordered eating habits. I have never been diagnosed with an eating disorder, however I’ve struggled with disordered eating for a long time. During 7th grade, I started to struggle with binge eating. The moment I would get home, I would immediately start a binge. It was uncontrollable, I felt horrible, and eventually, my mom had started to notice that I was eating an unhealthy amount.

A few months after this, I started to see a therapist, and at the end of my first session with her, I came out to my mom. I could not be more thankful for how supportive of me she is. She has only shown love, and care for me, and the only time she’d no to a step in my transition, is out of a genuine concern for my physical and mental health. She is also religious, but she loves me for the way that I am, and has a very loving and positive viewpoint when it comes to that.

I didn’t do much for my transition at the time (other than switching my pronouns to He/They at some point) and focused more on school, depression, and my romantic orientation.

This was a part that really confused me. I’ve never had a crush (except for one that came from peer-pressure) and I’ve never had an interest in romance. (Keep in mind I had no idea what ‘Aromantic’ was) So what was I? For the time being I decided to consider myself either bi-romantic or hetero-romantic, because like I said, people are pretty, and I tended to notice pretty girls more than pretty boys. 

There was also another hurdle. My (now ex) group of toxic friends. These friends weren’t toxic in the way that they wouldn’t include me, they were toxic in the way that they would talk shit about any minority group, a lot of which i was a part of. They were racist (I am not a poc but it still made me upset and uncomfortable) ableist (they threw the r-slur around a lot) homophobic (this was the biggest one, mainly making fun of them, callng them ‘pixies’ and would say they would ‘burn them’) and transphobic/enbyphobic (they didn’t consider they/them pronouns valid, they threw around the ‘attack helicopter’ joke, and they would dehumanize trans people, and call them ‘transvestites’)

Over the summer, I still spoke to them, and tried to ignore all of their behavior, because if I had cut them off, I would be completely alone. I have an extremely intense fear of abandonment, so the idea of doing that was comparable to death.

Through the first half of 8th grade (I was doing school from home) I didn’t talk to many people other than them. I stayed in my room a lot, and the first half of 8th grade was a steady decline in my mental health. My depression and anxiety had significantly worsened over that time, and I was extremely lonely. This was also worsened by the fact that I have ADHD, and at the time, it was undiagnosed, so I was failing almost all of my classes. 

The only way I was able to comfort myself was through my hyperfixations, and over the summer, I had a developed a hyperfixation on the Origins MCRP group. Because I had nothing else to do, I decided to pick up drawing again, and in October, I did an Origins version of Inktober. Every day, I would draw a different character from their series Fairy Tail Origins. I did not complete the challenge, however I did get through the first week, and I am proud of myself for that.

One one of the days, I had to draw a character named Brandon (partial inspiration for my name lel.) Brandon is a sky devil-slayer, and a co-guild leader of a guild named Divinus Magia. and I decided to draw him in a picture that symbolically showed his mental struggles with a devil named Jupiter. I posted it to the fan discord, and the actor and creator of the character (online username is ReinBloo) noticed my artwork. I was extremely excited about this, and decided to start drawing more and more. 

Because of this newfound motivation to pick up drawing again, I decided to create my own persona. I decided to make my main persona a revised design of my profile picture at the time. It was an improvised character, but I liked the aspects of it, and in late 2020, (yes i am 14 shut up) I created my main Oc, Jupiter. (at the time he didn’t have a name and I landed on Jupiter because I like it, and it fit him.) Jupiter is a space inspired demon, with dark grey skin, white star-like freckles, pure white eyes, white hair (that is slightly purple) and light gray ram-like horns with gray stripes on the base and tip. His color palette is that of the Asexual flag, and this was originally unintentional, but since I like the colors, and my Asexuality is an important part of my identity, I went with it.

I fell in love with this character, and he helped me figure out a lot about myself. I continued to watch origins, and draw for them (mainly ReinBloo’s characters lel) and on January 27th of 2021, in the premier chat of one of the episodes of My Hero Origins, I met MissyLea (She also goes by Lea, and Vesper). We instantly became friends, and moved over to discord to continue our conversation. By February 10th, we were already planning on being platonic valentines. We related on so many things, she was so kind, and loving, and understanding, and very quickly, I grew a strong emotional bond with her.

By the end of February, I developed an emotional attraction to her. I wanted to be with her forever, and while I personally wouldn’t consider it romantic right now, at the time, I did. After a few months of identifying as Aromantic (I had learned about it by now, through the Asexual community) I decided to change that label to Demi-Panromantic. I realized that I didn’t really see her gender, I didn’t care. I love her, and that’s all that matters to me. Now, I feel as though it was more of an emotional and somewhat sensual love for her, but even so, I love her to the edge of the universe and back, no matter what our relationship is.

I have told her things I’ve told no one else. When I was struggling, she was there for me, with kind words, and an endless amount of unconditional love. She is the type of person everyone deserves to have in their life, whether they are a friend, a family member, a partner, or anything else, everyone deserves to have a friend with the amount of love in their heart that she has.

On March 19th, I decided to tell her how I felt. When she said she felt the same way about me, I was happier than ever. To have someone who feels the same way about me as I do about them is amazing. We started dating later that day.

It’s only been 3 months, but I feel like I’ve known her for 3 years. Vesper has made me feel complete when I’m around them, but they’ve made it so much easier to stand on my own as well. 

Near the end of my 8th grade year, I officially cut them off, and came out to them (albeit in a very aggressive way) and I wouldn’t have been able to do this without Vesper’s support. Just one person has made it so much easier to cut off toxic people.

Vesper’s support also made it easier for me to be more open with my therapist. I began to tell her more of what I was struggling with, and it has made my mental health journey so much more bearable.

Over these past two months, I have finally gotten a diagnosis, and been able to truly know what direction to go in to properly treat my mental health.

I hope that by sharing my story you can better know me, and I also hope I can help create a safer environment for others to talk about their stories.

I hope one day people will be able to be themselves, and talk about their experiences, without the fear of judgement, or persecution, and if just this one post helps us get closer to that, I will be happy.

Happy Pride Month everybody! You are all amazing, loved and valid! 🌈💖

[daesungfmd]

hello! i’m peyton, but you can call me pey for short if you’d like; either is fine by me. i’ve only recently returned to tumblr rp, so i’m still getting back into the swing of things! please....... be patient with me in the meantime. anyway, i’m going to be writing for impulse’s lead vocal  &  rapper, hwang daesung! go ahead and leave a  ♡  if you’re interested in plotting with us and i’ll send you an im asap!

private profile  /  idol profile  /  plots  /  pinterest

daesung is originally from the neighborhood of samcheong in seoul. his mom owns a small salon there, which is where he spent the majority of his time while he was growing up (and where he still spends a lot of his free time nowadays, tbh). 

he doesn’t have any siblings  &  his dad passed away when he was twelve, so it was just him, his mom and the stray cats that they fed. they struggled quite a bit in these times and daesung’s mom often considered selling the salon, but daesung refused to let that happen. he didn’t ask for a whole lot because he didn’t want to make her feel bad.

but! he’s always been very deeply interested in music  —  stems a little from memories of just sitting in the family car with his dad and sharing music as well as listening to a busker who frequently performed near his school.

wanted to be a rockstar, which definitely irritated his mom. she wanted to be supportive, but she also wanted him to succeed in life  &  knew how hard it would be for him to make something like that come true.

regardless, she kept buying him the cds, record players, records, guitars, etc that he asked for around his birthday and the holidays because he never wanted anything else.

a series of strong-willed fights resulted in daesung’s mom finally allowing him to audition for companies. after many rejections, he found his home at gold star entertainment.

he became a trainee in early 2012—so when he was 15—and two years later, he debuted with impulse. during this time, he became estranged from his mother, but after debuting, he began to get closer to her again.

he stayed outwardly optimistic during his time as a trainee, but he didn’t exactly love it and his health was on a steady decline, both physically and mentally. there were times when he wanted to back out because he didn’t want to be an idol, he wanted to be a rock musician, but... he had too much pride to go back home. so he stayed.

during next: origin story, daesung’s poor dancing skills  &  unfaltering confidence had him framed as an arrogant boy with no shame; furthermore, he was said to be dumb because of how many times certain things had to be explained to him. towards the end of the show, he was able to redeem himself a bit, though.

to be fair............... he is kind of dumb. promoted as the ~4d type~, but it’s not like that image was pulled out of thin air --- he’s more or less the same on and off camera, can’t really differentiate between his work persona and his actual self. the best way i can describe it is that it’s really obvious that he isn’t book/traditionally smart, but he’s intelligent in other ways: emotionally, first and foremost. 

anyway! in impulse, the shameless and dense aspects of his personality that the public had already met were molded into a new, more likeable persona... although more likeable is still up for debate. during the debut era, he was very loud, a little too honest, always trying to crack a joke  &  steal the show.

in his most ridiculous shenanigan so far... he has a nervous habit of scratching his head (also does this when he’s embarrassed  —  i.e, when someone’s making fun of him) and fans made a compilation of the clips. he took it much further than he should have and made a statement without running it past management about how he’d been scratching because he had lice. never actually had lice, but fans began gifting him with copious amounts of lice shampoo, hair trimmers, plastic gloves, hairnets, etc. management was definitely fed up with him over this... but he found it hilarious.

impulse debuted nearly  7  years ago, so he has toned down his behavior a bit... or maybe the public’s just gotten more used to it? it’s hard to be shocked by him now ‘cause the public’s already seen it all. seen as the kind of idol who has no shame whatsoever.

i intend to push him towards variety whether he likes it or not. he really, really wants to act, but the company’s quite adamant about not letting him do that (for one good reason: he sucks at acting)... so maybe variety’s the next best thing? he certainly doesn’t want to be reduced to the few osts he’s done, anyway. </3

he doesn’t hate being an idol. it isn’t what he wanted, but all things considered, he doesn’t think it’s that bad, either. impulse’s music is a lot better now than it was when they debuted, he’s made a lot of friends who he never would’ve otherwise met  &  he likes to be known/liked. kinda indifferent about the idol status ig.

for more general facts about daesung... he’s quite the social butterfly. he has many friends, but i imagine that he doesn’t have very many close ones. partially because he doesn’t tend to spend too much time with individuals  &  partially because it’s hard to break past the superficial layer with him. his fans will claim that he’s the most genuine guy around, but when you actually know him, the constant grin and jokes become a bit unnerving. especially when it’s obvious that he’s not doing well, but refuses to speak about his feelings.

but once he deems someone trustworthy, he’s the king of oversharing. he’s a very open book, will tell you anything you wanna know if he knows that you actually care.

he’s a very affectionate guy, whether he’s close to someone or not. he thinks the world could definitely use some more love (and he’s seen first-hand that idols tend to be the angstiest mfs around), so he’s always looking for a way to brighten someone’s day or at least get the tiniest smile out of ‘em. with people he is close to, he’s usually pretty touchy; likes to hug his friends, rub their backs, ruffle their hair, etc, but his affection is also shown through words of affirmation! if you need an ego boost, he’s here to provide it. thinks his friends are the absolute coolest. with people he’s not close to, he tends to crack jokes to break the ice, try to talk about their interests, pay attention to whatever they have to say. gives spontaneous gifts to friends and acquaintances. likes to spend time with people, too, whether he knows them well or he’s just starting to.

he says “i love you” like it’s his life’s motto. calls up his friends when he’s drunk like, “you know that i love you, right? i really love you. so much... damn. i miss you!!! i love you and i miss you! please come back to me!!!” aka it starts out innocent enough but then he starts sounding like a crazy ex. no worries, though, it’s just your good ol’ friend daesung acting like a fool because it’s been a week since he last saw you. <3

makes spontaneous phonecalls. if he has your number in his phone, he’s definitely called you a handful of times — even if you’re a virtual stranger. i imagine there are plenty of people who’ve probably blocked his number at this point.

he’s interested in fashion, but if he said this aloud, it would be treated as a shocking statement. nothing that he wears is ever in trend. most of his outfits are inspired by ‘90′s fashion, but even taking that into consideration, hardly anyone ever thinks he looks good other than himself. his neon-toned bucket hats, excessively tie-dyed clothes  &  gaudy accessories result in him getting clowned a lot. it’s very obvious when he dresses himself....... probably not even allowed to pick his own airport clothes.

mcs have joked that he even manages to make expensive brands look cheap with how he styles them. kind of hurts his feelings but it’s okay. <3

he’s super into skateboarding. he didn’t start until after impulse debuted, but he’s gotten pretty good at it with how much he practices in his spare time. has a collection of unique boards  &  even has his apartment decorated with some furniture made from decks. some fans have definitely met him at skateparks before.

believes in the most outrageous conspiracies  —  say what you want, but you can’t change his mind about anything. he thinks that aliens are indeed real (and already walking the earth), he thinks that the government consists of people who are not entirely human, he thinks that there’s a huge chance that this world is only a simulation, he thinks that all cryptids are Definitely real (mothman, bigfoot, nightcrawlers, etc) and so on. i suggest not letting him get going about this because he can def sound a little crazy.

specialties: reciting quotes but always getting one word Terribly wrong, misusing and mispronouncing words, getting under everyone’s skin without even really having to try, slapstick humor and making 30 second stories feel 3 hours long.

[tartareus]

the way fiona is painfully touch starved and it not only shows but also affects her dynamics with the people in her life is just </3 i’m cry, here’s a little something that has been on my mind for a while....

for starters, in all her independence and selfishness, fiona is - deep ( and when i say deep i’m talking about centre of the earth kind of deep here folks), deep down - lonely and scared. now, different people react in different ways when in fear - some cower, others run; fiona is like a wounded beast, baring her teeth to anyone who gets too close when she’s licking her wounds.

her fear ( of aging, of dying, of losing cordelia, of losing her title, of never being respected nor loved again, it’s a long list even though she will never admit it ) does not incapacitate her, quite the opposite really. fiona's fear propels her to do something, forces to move forward even when against the tide.

i have yet to finish off my hcs about her parents but one thing i can point out now is that fiona did not get enough love growing up, much less displays of affection from her parents. while her mother was never an ounce as horrible as fiona herself was to cordelia, she certainly lacked at comforting fiona and making her feel safe. as to her father, always too busy at the hawthorne school to spare much of his attention on her, spoiled her rotten with gifts.

the family’s calico cat was probably the only companion for a long while - that is, in her early childhood before joining the academy - it’s not surprising that she grew up to be an individual who has one hell of a hard time showing affections; after her death of her mother, when she was taken to the academy to start her training and pretty much ever since that the only one she could truly trust and count on was herself and in her growing powers.

this is one of the many reasons why she does not like to be seen or touched ( no matter how kindly ) as if she were weak. it’s a big deal of pride mixed with uncertainty - of not being able to put her own safety at the hands of another, even if the other ( and, in this case, marie - who is pretty much the only one who even offers her any form of comfort/steady safe embrace even if only to keep her from collapsing ) is trying to help her.

she grew so used to using her looks, and touches as a way to seduce people to get what she wants that, when it comes to something  honest fiona finds herself at loss of how to go from there. take for instance the touches she exchanges with the axeman. they are sexual because obviously she is in a sexual relationship with him for a time.

while it is nothing rooted in love or genuinely romantic ( she fell in love with the idea of being in love and being, truly, loved in return; she likes the axeman, but she loves how he makes her feel more than she could ever care for him. it’s the adoration he gave her when she was at her lowest, the distraction from all the troubles and fears and, of course, the orgasms, she loved those too but we’re not going to hold that against her - considering she might have had those with only few of her partners in life, specially when one notes that she has majoritarily been with men. ) she still clinges to him, 

as she clinges to all others she tries to connect with - regardless the way she wants to do it, if it’s friendly, familial or romantic - in a way betraying her own mask of indiference to the ones around her for she doesn’t want them to leave her, dreads at the thought of being alone, even when she treats them badly - and she does, awfully a lot.

the fact that she constantly has a secret agenda alligned to touching is also something to note, it blurs even more the lines and ends up making whatever attempt to do so honestly fall flat. amongst other things, frustration comes to her often and then, of course, there’s aggresion ( not only in her own self destructive path of booze and drugs, even when she’s ill and fragile) also turned to others.

worst of all when it’s turned to her daughter, who shares a complicated bond with her. she loves her child, truly does so, but hates being a mother - always has. it never sat right with her and it never felt like these shoes belonged to her, like she deserved this. not to mention that, after delia’s birth it felt as if a part of fiona had just died, which pushed her even closed to the postpartum depression phase she went through, perhaps there was a plausible reason to why supremes usually never had kids, or perhaps it’s fiona’s fucked up ways that drove her to be such awful mother, whatever it is has left a mark not only on cordelia but on herself too.

when cordelia comes back from the hospital - after she and fiona had been trying to reconnect over drinks - fiona is seen clutching one of cordelia’s clothes, visibly anguished and, to her own surprise, in pain. it’s a similar pain she felt in the hospital, hours after hours in that uncomfortable chair waiting for delia return. it’s not just the physical pain of her disease eating her away that drives her to steal some painkillers, it’s the emotional pain of almost losing a child, part of herself in a way, that she never thought she loved that much - her mental state is alluded by the erratic flickering lights and her encounter with the young mother whose baby died shortly after the birth.

the pain she feels for her daughter is something secretive and reserved to moments of weakness where nobody is around to witness and she can convince herself that they were nothing but her illness making her soft. a passing thing. still, she tries approaching her daughter - even more so after the truth about hank’s cheating  is revealed - only to find out that by doing so she just might get her ass on the line. she recoils slightly, frowning and instantly regretting her moment of weakness and decides to avoid touching cordelia for her own self preservation within the coven.

fiona eventually leaves her, gingerly saying she’ll get delphine to help her daughter. her own words about cordelia ring on her ears: delia is a survivor.  we later see that fiona does not seem to be able to detach herself from the situation as much as she wanted to - if anything, the way she brought back that baby to life in the hospital and how she aids marie to keep the baby that was meant to papa ( of course with her own hidden agenda of wanting to offer a soul to him to get on his good side ), fiona’s own lack of touch when it comes to maternal matters does not stop her from wanting to avoid other kids from being abandoned. in both cases, by giving the change to keep the kids, fiona is giving another shot a motherhood - not directly, obviously, but it’s as close as it will ever get.

we eventually see that fiona begins to wear gloves to avoid unnecessary drama ( aka delia finding out even more of the dark shit she's been up to both lately and in the past ) and is visibly relieved once she finds cordelia’s sight restored - even if it had been myrtle, back from the stake no less, who had done it. in that fickle moment we can see the softness in her eyes and demeanour, as if she can breath again.

obviously, realising that she truly does care for her own child is nothing that redeems fiona, but it’s an interesting layer to her character - how conflicted she is with her own feelings. we get a slight glimpse that perhaps things were not so different with fiona and her own mother. later, when fiona finds out in horror what cordelia has done to herself to get her second sight back, the two share another heart to heart moment, but that obviously ends up going downhill (and fiona does note how odd her daughter acts at the time) when the sight is not only restored but shows glimpses of a possible future, one where fiona has killed them all.

including cordelia.

now, i do think part of the vision was reflecting cordelia’s own fear of her mother manifesting itself - zoe did end up dying in the very same way she did in the vision, but fiona had little to do with it. queenie herself, after fiona had just killed madison and beheaded the bastien/the minotaur, had her life saved by fiona.

even though fiona was under the impression that the next supreme was gone, using the vitalum vitalis to get queenie's soul back before it went to the afterlife was a risky move, considering that this wonder, unlike resurgence, uses the witch's very own life force. normally a supreme would not faint afterwards, but being with her own health and powers beginning wane, fiona feels the harsh effect of it a couple of minutes later, when she’s in her room and sends delphine away. she held herself against the wall to get there when she could have asked cordelia to help her or even delphine, and the way i see it that she didn’t ask for help for the very same reason why she declined marie’s steady embrace at first some time later:  fiona hates to be weak, to feel useless and powerless and, worst of all, to be seen in a weakened, fragile state. she wants to keep the image she has painted of herself ever since she rose to the throne: of being invincible and in control of everything and everyone. 

by being the biggest source of danger they have to worry about, she finds a way to protect them, or at least distract them, from the real danger that lies just outside their doors, a danger that only few of them would be able to handle: witch hunters.  because, let’s be honest even though fiona was a hazard in high heels to the coven, they were slightly safer with her on their side than against her.

while i honestly don’t think fiona was really up to kill all of them witches when she sent the axeman there to be killed there, i cannot claim she did it with pure intentions. sure, she did it to find the next supreme while she gathered strength to face her, whoever she might have been, but having a secret agenda doesn’t exclude the real thing here. she wanted out. out of the coven’s responsability of finding her replacement ( to her, it felt as if they were burying her before she had even died ) and out of the potentially dangerous relationship she had with the man.

which eventually proved to be a smart move (well, not for long though lmao) considering how the touches they exchanged were either sexual or violent, even though the little spit trick she did on him was nothing but false memories, there’s no denying that she knew his violent nature could get to her one day. she knew he was just as awful as she was.

perhaps worse than fiona, if that little hint of her knotty pine hell was anything to go by, she was going to spend the rest of eternity not in hellfire and damnation but with a former lover’s hands on her as she’s at the mercy of all his violence and lechery. while there’s something incredibly ironic about this awful situation. her hell seems, at first, his paradise but, the longer they stay like this, with her forgetting the previous days and only having him and dull aches on her body to warn her of whatever the hell has happened in the previous day, the faster he will realise she never loved him, and never will. he will be stuck with someone he loves but that could not love him back for the life of her. 

before all that happens though, we get to see fiona and cordelia meet one last time. even though it would never explain how awful she was, we get to see that to a big extent what fiona had wanted was to protect cordelia, keep her safe but, above anything else she wanted cordelia to be strong enough to stand on her own, to survive and bite back. which cordelia did, on her own and beautifully so. when she does grow a backbone, as she ascends as supreme that is, is when fiona feels at ease, as if her job ( the most important one, and the one she has forsaken for years ) is complete. cordelia no longer needs her, or myrtle or whatever maternal figure she can find. this time she hugs cordelia, clutches to her not as if her lie depended on it, but as if cordelia’s did. with her out of the picture, her daughter’s powers would fully bloom into what they should be once for all && fiona’s sorry for whoever dares to touch this coven again.

she’s not longer the scared little girl fiona dropped off at the academy decades ago, she’s the fucking supreme now. 

she can handle it.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Seven

Warnings: graphic description of symptoms of depression and panic attacks

Word Count: 5 260

The next day started out slow. To prepare the show, you had to be at the venue around noon, so using the time in the morning, everyone slept in, had a late breakfast, and took some time for themselves.

Technically you still had to edit the pictures of the past two days, but you decided that if you did this now, there would be nothing to do while the others were working in the venue. Usually you loved spending some time alone, but after having been constantly surrounded by people for the past weeks, being alone suddenly made you feel nervous.

Charlie and Luis had gone out for breakfast, probably in a small café, and other than them, nobody had shared your room. So, searching for some company, you stepped out into the corridor. At the end of it, by a small window, Lucas was on the phone with somebody, discussing details for an upcoming radio interview that Dallon and Ryan would have to do.

Turning the other way, you strode past closed doors, trying to remember Lisa’s room number, when suddenly the fragments of a melody made you stop in your tracks. You listened more closely to what sounded like an electric guitar, or bass, being played without the amps, making the song sound flat and quiet. Turning to see the room number, you recalled that this was the room Dallon and Ryan shared.

The door was open a little, so you knocked, expecting Dallon to answer, but instead it was Ryan. Pushing the door open further, you found the drummer sitting on a stool by the table, Dallon’s white bass in his lap, the black strap hanging over his shoulders.

When he saw you, he smiled brightly, and got up.

“(y/n), hey,” he greeted, “what’s up?”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, I thought it was Dallon playing,” you apologized.

“No, he’s out with Bill, checking out the music store down the street,” he explained.

“So… you’re practicing,” you asked, and immediately wanted to punch yourself. Of course he was practicing.

“Yeah, just wanted to get back into it a little,” Ryan shrugged, “has been ages since I last played the bass properly.”

You nodded, thinking that he probably wanted to be left alone, but just when you were about to announce that you would leave, he spoke up again.

“If you like, I can show you some things,” he offered, suddenly seeming a little shy.

“Ahm, sure, if that’s okay for you,” you answered.

Hesitantly you stepped into the room, and closed the door. Ryan stood up from the stool, and motioned for you to sit down.

“Have you ever played the bass?”

You shook your head no.

“I had some piano lessons when I was in school, but that’s about as much musical understanding as I have,” you admitted, making Ryan giggle.

“That’s fine, don’t worry.”

He took off the bass, and handed it to you, so the headstock was pointing left. Carefully he helped you put on the strap; then he knelt down in front of you, gesturing you to sit down.

“So, as you can probably guess, these are the stings,” he explained.

“Oh really,” you asked wide eyed, the sarcasm in your voice causing Ryan to laugh.

“Yes, really,” he answered, trying to stay serious, “E-string, A-string, D-string, and G-string.” One after the other he plucked the strings from the furthest one up, to the one in the bottom, which sounded the highest, “and these are called frets.”

He pointed to the small silver lines on the neck of the bass.

“This is the first fret, second fret,” he placed his fingers on the fret closest to the head, then let it wander down to the second, “third, and so on. The further down you place your finger, the short the string gets,” he pushed his finger down on the G-string on the second fret and plugged the string, “and as you probably know, the shorter the string, the higher the sound. Same goes for the piano too.”

You nodded, this much you remembered.

“Okay, cool. So let’s try to play something. Any suggestions?”

For a moment you searched your brain for any song that you would like to play, but it felt as if all of the music you had ever know had suddenly disappeared from your brain, and all you could really think about was the way Ryan was sitting on the floor in front of you, his beautiful brown eyes staring up at you expectantly.

“Can we play something from you guys,” you asked, finally managing to remember that Ryan was, in fact, playing in a band, and they had songs featuring the bass.

“Yeah, sure, let me think,” Ryan furrowed his brows, the nodded, “how about Bleed Magic? It’s pretty simple.”

“Okay, so what do I do?”

Ryan stood up, and walked around you. You could feel him standing close to your back before he leant down, his head next to yours. With his left hand, he took yours, and led it to the neck of the instrument.

“Push down on the D-string, on the third fret,” he instructed.

You moved your hand down the neck to the third fret, but your fingers hovered in the air uncertainly.

“Which one was the D-string again,” you asked timidly.

From the corner of your eyes you could see Ryan smile.

“The second from the bottom,” he repeated patiently. Carefully he moved his hand so his fingers were on top of yours. “And you’ll want to use your middle finger for this, because later we’ll play the first and the fifth fret, and then you don’t have to move your hand so much.”

You nodded, and pressed down on the D-string with your middle finger, Ryan’s finger still gently on top of yours.

“Now pluck the string, but only the D-String, or it’ll sound terrible,” he laughed.

Carefully you did as he said, but the sound that you drew from the instrument was horrible.

“Ew, what’s wrong,” you wondered, turning your head to Ryan.

He smiled, “That’s because you’re not pressing down hard enough. You really have to nail the string to the neck with your finger, really, really hard.” He observed as you followed his instructions. “And now plug it again.”

The sound was quiet, but definitely there.

“And feel free to plug a little harder than that,” he advised, and when you did, you finally drew a proper sound from the bass.

It felt strange, feeling the string vibrate under the finger which pressed it down, but you liked it.

“Great, now pluck it again, and then move to the first fret of the A-string.”

Again you did as he had told you to, and you felt him reach his right arm around you, so he was able to plug the strings too. Far too distracted by the close proximity of your bodies, you did not notice how he told you what to do next. Only when he called your name, you snapped back into the moment, and quickly placed your finger on the third fret of the D-String again.

Ryan’s chest was pressing to your back, his arms wrapped around you, the side of his head so close to yours that they were almost touching. You felt your fingers shaking underneath Ryan’s, but his hand steadied them.

Plucking the string repeatedly, he quietly hummed along the beginning of the chorus. Moving his fingers, he guided you to press down on the A-string again, and he continued humming the melody. Then he moved your ring finger to press down on the fifth fret, and quietly he continued singing the chorus, while guiding you to play along.

His voice was raspy and deeper than Dallon’s, making a shiver run down your spine when you noticed how his breath fanned over the side of your face. Gently he continued guiding your fingers over the strings, halting the singing until you had found the right fret, and this way played the entire song with you.

When the song was over, you expected him to pull away, but instead the fingers of his left hand closed around those of yours a little tighter, and you felt him turning his head to look at you.

“Anything else you want to play, I think Modern Day Caine is quite easy too,” he suggested.

You were pretty shaky already, your heart beating so hard that you feared continuing this would probably not be very healthy, but you would be dammed if you allowed this to end sooner than it had to.

Just when you had opened your mouth to agree, there was a knock on the door, and it was opened. Bill was standing in the frame, and Ryan let go of you as quickly as if he had burned himself on your skin.

“We’re heading to the venue in ten, get ready guys,” Bill announced, and disappeared again.

For a moment there was silence between the two of you, while you progressed what had just happened.

It was you who spoke up first.

“Thanks for showing me,” you smiled, “Maybe you can show me a little more some other time.”

Ryan nodded eagerly, and helped you take the bass off, placing it in its box.

~*~

The next morning, the obnoxious blaring of some cheesy 80s song woke you up rather ruthlessly. You heard Luis move around to turn it off, before feet hit the carpeted floor and started moving around the room.

Your body felt heavy, and breathing felt difficult, as if a weight had been placed on your chest. A premonition started growing in your chest, and you tried sitting up, but your body would not react. It was as if the connection between your brain and your limbs had been cut.

This was not the first time you experienced this paralysis. Some people knew this feeling from sleep paralysis, but for you it was different. For you it meant that your mental health was declining, and not being able to move in the morning was one of the sign.

You felt tears well up in your still closed eyes. Why did this have to happen now? Had you not been spending some amazing weeks with great people? Had you not made a bunch of friends, had not Ryan started stealing your heart in the sweetest and most beautiful way? Why did this have to happen now? Why did the depression always try to ruin everything that was good?

You allowed a couple of hot tears to roll down the side of your face and into your hair. It was still really early. Today you had to make a trip of five hours from Chicago to Sankt Louis, so everyone had to get up at five in the morning to be ready to leave at seven, to make it to the next venue around noon.

Luis had taken a quick shower, and Charlie also started getting up. The sounds of the two men rummaging through their belongings, their naked feet patting over the floor, the occasional sound of a car passing by outside, made you calm down from the initial anger you had experienced.

Of course you were worried that you might be unable to do your job properly, should you really be falling into a depressive episode, but everyone on the team was so kind and caring, that, even though Ryan and Lars were the only ones knowing about your struggles so far, you were sure the rest of the crew would support you, and be understanding.

Clinging to that thought, and the image of Ryan sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for you to join him, motivated you, and you focused on moving again. You knew that if you would think something like “Just move your hand”, your body, or rather a messed up part of your brain, would block it, so instead you decided to reach for your mobile to look at your pictures of the show a couple of days ago, which Lucas had posted to iDKHOW’s Instagram page.

And miraculously it worked. You allowed yourself to soak up the colour and energy of some of the pictures, then having broken the initial blockade, you sat up and placed your feet on the floor. Outside, the sky started turning grey from the sun that had not yet peeked over the horizon.

Luis shot you a small smile when he saw you were awake. Like the two men you shared the room with, you started packing your things after you had refreshed yourself in the small en-suit bathroom.

Not feeling in the mood for make-up, you allowed yourself to leave the room without having put any on. Adding to not feeling in the mood for it, was the hope of getting to sleep on the bus, and the fear that if you were to burst into tears, you would turn into a little panda.

Wearing a pair of shorts, and a soft hoodie over an ancient band shirt, you left the room, backpack over your shoulder, side by side with Charlie and Luis, to join the others for breakfast.

The image of Ryan which had gotten you out of bed eventually was laid out in front of you almost exactly as you had imagined it. When he noticed the door to the breakfast room opening, he turned his head, and when he spotted you, his brow eyes started glowing with adoration, a big smile spreading over his face.

Immediately he scooted to the side so you were able to sit down on the bench next to him, and before you had even muttered a “hello”, he already had poured you a cup of tea.

“Tired,” he asked gently.

Your stomach turned at the thought that if you would continue feeling this down you eventually would have to tell somebody, and that Ryan would worry and be concerned for you. But not now. Maybe you just had a bad dream, which you could not remember, and this was the aftermath.

“A little,” you answered his question, and thanked him when he handed you the plate with fruits.

~*~

That it had not been the aftermath of a bad dream, but really the beginning of a few bad days, or maybe even more, got clear the next day. If Monday, the prior day, had been unpleasant, then Tuesday, today, was hell incarnated.

You barely got up in the morning, constantly felt like you were taking very shallow breaths, that left your lungs aching for air, and your body felt heavier than lead. But you tried to do your work as if nothing was going on.

Clicking through pictures half-heartedly, getting bored of editing them as soon as you had opened the program, and staring at the screen for ten minutes without doing anything, felt like torture.

But in the evening it got worse.

The music the bands were playing seemed too loud for your ears, and even the songs you loved the most got on your nerves. You had never before gotten so easily annoyed by the slightest inconvenience.

Rage bubbled up inside of you when someone accidently bumped into you, and you felt like throwing your camera through the room when one of the photos had turned out blurry.

And what made it worse was that you were aware of everything. It was as if your feelings were operated by remote control by someone else, while you were helplessly watching as rage and impatience filled up your entire body.

The show ended no second too early, and as soon as the last note had faded in the cheers of the crowd, you stormed out of the venue, throwing the heavy fire door open with as much force as you could muster.

The night was warm, and not really helping you to cool down your nerves. Finally being able to work off your anger, you stormed down the street, and turned left, almost running now. Your lungs were burning, and your legs felt week, but you kept going until you reached the next crossing, turning left again.

Your body seemed strangely disconnected from your mind, but at least you managed to remember that walking in circles would probably be a clever idea, considering you did not know the city.

When finally the bright red ball of rage in your chest had faded, you slowed down. Your breathing was quick, and your sides hurt from breathing so irregularly. Your feet hurt, and only now you realized you were crying silently. You reached the next corner, the last before you would turn back into the street of the venue; you halted your steps, and leant against the grey wall of the building.

Through your tears the orange street lights blurred into huge, flickering lights of comfort. The wall was rigid and warm, and giving into your shaking knees, you sunk to the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest, and hugging them tightly, burying your face between them to hide your tears. You heard people pass you by, their chatter growing quiet when they walked past you, and picking back up as soon as they had brought a few feet between you and themselves.

Some of the people were singing songs that faintly reminded you of somebody, but right now you could not find it in you to care. You were wailing in self-pity, and you knew that it was okay to do so, for now. But then you would have to pick yourself up again, and get back to work.

Randomly you remembered that the songs the people in the distance were singing were songs by Dallon and Ryan; they had most likely been at the concert.

All of a sudden you felt very lost. You were far away from home, in a city, in a state you had never been to before. Your parents were far away, your friends were far away, and all the people on the tour bus with you had either been strangers until three weeks ago, or they were your ex-boyfriend.

For the first time on this trip the feeling of being lost in a world made for giants overwhelmed you. It made your heart ache; knowing that nobody was around who, without asking any questions, would just take you in their arms. You longed for familiarity, safety, warmth of another human being, and you had nobody to go to. These thoughts made you cry harder, until eventually you were all out of tears, and your breathing calmed down from sobs to heavy breaths and occasional sighs.

Slowly the world around you seemed to be able to get through the small bubble you had been caged in. Sometimes a car was driving by, and in the distance there were still people talking. Someone walked past you, and then another person. Even though you longed for the feeling of a familiar person caring for you, it gave you comfort that strangers did not give you a second thought.

Another person walked up to you, their steps heavy, and the pattern slightly familiar. The person stopped in front of you, and then, without saying a single word, sat down close next to you. You caught a breeze of coffee and some men’s deodorant, which you did not recognize, so not Ryan then. A big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, and patted you gently, and when you did not reject, he pulled you into him.

“It’s gonna be alright,” a deep voice mumbled, and finally you realized that it was Lucas, who had found you.

He was soft, his shirt a little sweaty, and you could feel his beard against your hair. Somehow he reminded you of your father, even though the two looked nothing alike. Just like your father, Lucas seemed to have the ability to understand you without words, and calm you down when you were upset.

Even though you had no real idea why, your father had always been better at this than your mother. Maybe it was because he, and Lucas too, gave you time, allowed you to be the first one to speak. Both men were able to radiate calmness, and sitting here next to Lucas, you felt like a four year old again, when you had been in a fight with your best friend, and your father had found you crying in the park under a tree.

“I think I might be getting another depressive episode,” you eventually mumbled, feeling the need to share this with somebody.

Lucas said nothing; he just rubbed your back a little. Your head was resting on his shoulder, your eyes closed, as you continued talking.

“I’ve had depression before, and I’m taking my meds and all, but since yesterday, everything is so bad, and I just want to cry-“

You felt your voice being suffocated by yet another wave of tears, so you stopped.

Lucas allowed you to cry for a while, gently rubbing your back every now and then, before he finally spoke up.

“That’s okay. It’s not your fault. Everyone gets sick sometimes. Some people get a cold, others the flue, and you got depression. That’s not the end of the world.”

It was as if he had spoken a spell, which made you realize, that maybe it really was not that bad. What you had been worried about most of the time so far had been that he would sent you home once he found out you were struggling, but maybe he would not? And yes, that still left you with this black hole in your stomach, that swallowed all the light and happiness inside of you, but at least you were still allowed to see the world, to spend time with Ryan.

Lifting your head up, you looked at Lucas questioningly.

“Are you going to send me home,” you asked, because that was what had bothered you the most, and you needed a definite answer to this question.

“Do you want to go home?”

His eyes were sincere, and once more you were reminded of your father. He would be glad if he knew that somebody else was taking care of you, while he was so far away.

“No, I-“

“Then no, I won’t send you home.”

His answer was clear, left no room for debate, and it felt as if a chain fell off your heart.

“But if you want to go home, then you are free to do so anytime, okay? And if you need an evening off, then just tell me. You have taken so many photos already, we can just use a few of these, and say these were some of our favourite shots so far, or whatever. You don’t need to go into the crowd every night, especially not if this is the result,” he gestured to the two of you sitting on the floor.

You nodded, allowing his words to seep into your mind until you had memorized them. Then you took a deep breath and sighed.

“Shall we go back to the bus,” you asked, getting ready to stand up.

“If you’re up to it,” Lucas agreed, and together you stood up, dusted your trousers off, and headed back to the others, who were already waiting for you.

~*~

The next evening you actually made use of Lucas’ offer and took the night off, sitting on the bus instead, and listening to music. Halfway through the evening the thought, that this was the first concert on this tour you were missing, popped into your head, and fuelled by sudden thirst for adventure, you grabbed your camera and backstage pass, and joined the concert, taking a few pictures of Ryan drumming his soul out, but mainly enjoying the music. Lucas just shot you an understanding smile when he spotted you.

The next stop was Minneapolis. The evening, you had taken off, had showed you that even when you decided to take some personal time, you missed not seeing the shows, not seeing Ryan drum, so you took a nap in the afternoon after you had edited the few pictures you had left to do, to be ready for the show.

Even though you felt tired, yet restless, the music managed to get some energy back into your body, and the crowd, mixed with the upbeat music and the magic of Ryan’s smile, even got you in a really good mood.

The few times you saw Lucas during the evening, he always shot you a smile, and it was obvious he was glad that you were having a great time. But even though you appreciated the attention he directed to you, Ryan’s glances into your direction, and the following smiles, still meant so much more to you, getting your heart beating faster each time, and your cheeks heating up.

Once the concert was over, and everything packed into the bus, Lucas drove everyone back to the hotel where you would stay the next two nights. It was a very nice hotel, one with a big lobby with several sofas and gentle music playing in the background, and a huge aquarium was placed opposite the reception against the wall.

The green and blue room gave you a feeling of having travelled to a mysterious underwater world, especially since it was long dark outside, and the world beyond the windows seemed to have molten away the moment you set foot onto the dark carpet of the lobby.

Lucas, as always checked you in, and handed keys to everyone.

“Hey, would you like to do something before going to bed?”

You had not noticed that Ryan had approached you from behind, so at first you did not understand that he had been talking to you. Ignoring the almost painful beating of your heart in your throat, you shrugged.

“Sure, any suggestions,” you asked.

“Maybe you could show me the pictures you took tonight,” he proposed, nervously rubbing his neck, “and we could get a drink at the bar.”

Your eyes flickered to the room next doors where you spotted a counter with liquors stored in a shelf behind it, and a barkeeper casually crossing his arms while talking to someone you did not see from your spot.

Agreeing, you nodded, causing Ryan to grin brightly.

“Maybe we should get our stuff to our rooms, and then meet back up here,” he suggested, and together you walked to the elevator that took you to the floor where your rooms were situated.

Lisa, who once again you were sharing the room with, was nowhere in sight, so you guessed she was over in Jay’s and Bill’s room, trying to accomplish some progress in making Jay interested in her. Carelessly you threw your night bag onto the bed that was not yet occupied by Lisa’s handbag, grabbed your camera from it, and hurried back down to the lobby.

Ryan was already sitting on one of the soft sofas, his eyes flickering to the elevator when he heard the doors open. A smile lit up his face, and he immediately straightened his posture when he saw you. Scooting aside a little to make space for you to sit down, he looked up at you expectantly.

Suddenly you found yourself worrying where to sit, or rather, how close to sit to him. Maybe he did not want you to sit close to him, but he surely wanted to see the pictures. But if you sat too close, he would definitely feel like his personal space got invaded, and you did not want to make him feel uncomfortable. After a short moment of hesitation you ended up sitting down, a couple of inches between your legs and his.

“So, how have you been,” Ryan asked after a moment of silence.

You sighed quietly, debating how honest you should be with him. In the end, as always, you decided on brutal honesty.

“Honestly, I’ve been really bad these past few days,” you admitted.

Ryan nodded understandingly.

“I noticed that you were quieter than usually,” he mentioned. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You thought about his question for a moment, then you answered quietly.

“Sometimes just sitting with you and having a conversation, or really just sitting without doing anything makes me feel a lot better,” you told him, earning a soft smile.

“Then let’s do that more often,” he offered, causing you to smile in return.

“Thank you.”

For a moment you were looking into each other’s eyes, and your heart grew all tight from sudden nervousness as Ryan’s eyes shortly flickered to your lips, causing them to tickle strangely.

“Shall we look at the pictures?”

His question interrupted the moment, and you were not certain if you were disappointed or happy about it.

Quickly you pulled the camera into your lap, and turned it on, pressing the button to switch to the gallery. Scrolling back to the first picture that as still saved on the SD-card, you turned on full screen, and tilted the device so Ryan could have a better look.

It felt natural, and yet your heart sped up again, when he scooted closer to you, his leg now pressing against the side of yours, and to get closer, he placed his arm on the backrest behind your shoulders, leaning in so close that his head was almost touching yours. Trying to ignore the distraction of his, by now, familiar scent, the soft tickling of his hair, and the heat that radiated off his body, you started to talk about the pictures you had shot. Carefully you explained why you had taken these specific pictures, what you liked about them, and what you did not like.

Occasionally Ryan let out an agreeing hum, or exclaimed how much he loved certain pictures, his praise sounding real, and he could not manage to hide how impressed he was with your skills.

Halfway through the pictures Lucas passed through the lobby behind your backs. While you shifted a little, worried he might not approve of what he might misunderstand as a romantic get together between Ryan and you, Ryan only wrapped his arm around your shoulder protectively, and complimented the picture you were showing him.

But he had to admit to himself that most of the time he was not even focusing on the pictures. He was far too distracted by the young photographer at his side. He loved the way the dim green and blue light in the lobby painted your profile so mysteriously into the dark room, and how the white light of the display highlighted your features. If he was honest with himself, he would have had to admit that he could get lost in your face the whole day long. Again and again he had to suppress the urge to lift his hand, and gently run the tips of his fingers over your soft looking cheek, or to nuzzle his nose into your neck.

His daydreams were rudely interrupted by the door to the parking lot flying open and crashing into the wall. Both Ryan and you, as well as the hotel employee, turned around alarmed, and watched as Lucas came running into the lobby. The employee had an almost horrified expression on his face as Lucas, today again wearing the two space buns, and beet red in his face, ran over to the counter.

“Call nine eleven,” he demanded, close to hyperventilating. “Call nine elven, our bus has been stolen.”

[irageneveart]

If you're in the mood for some angsty headcanons, how do you think the rfa would react to discovering that mc is anorexic?

hii Anony 🧡 I hope you’re okay! I added a pretty link with eating disorder hotlines if it would help you but on the phone app the link was broken and it looked weird and I can’t sleep knowing it looks like that xigxcphcvh I’m sorry

now, I’m by no means a writer and this is actually the first time I’m publicly  writing HCs (asuming you really sent this to me and it’s not a mistake xDD) but I enjoyed it! please feel free to tell me what you think. also, I am not dealing with this disorder so even if I did some research, I might not be the most accurate in the descriptions. if something comes off disrespectful please let me know!

thank you for your request! hope you enjoy

I kind of went overboard with some so everything under the cut lol

RFA discovering their MC is anorexic

ZEN

you always had a thing for your weight. carefully chosen food, daily exercises, nothing too out of common, you just wanted to stay in those healthy digits

having a modeling actor as your boyfriend definitely added some pressure on your shoulders. “I shouldn’t gain weight, I don’t want to damage his image, All those beautiful girls he is working with…I should take care of my weight, I need to stay in shape”

innocent thoughts that turned into poison whenever you saw food

you could get away with it for a while, Zen is not one to eat regularly either, but one night he accidentally caught you in the bathroom trying to free your stomach from the little dinner you ate earlier

“Oh god, babe, are you alright?” he rushes to your side thinking you’re sick. burning tears fall down your cheeks, and you break down telling him everything. he is heartbroken that you are feeling like this, holding you close and telling you how much he loves you

he starts making meal plans for both of you and showers you in constant praise to raise your self-esteem, you’re perfect the way you are and nothing will change that, not weight, age, nothing. he’s always careful to pepper in plenty of kisses whenever you two finish your food

YOOSUNG

since you and Yoosung moved in together, making breakfast and different dinner ideas from You Tube started to be Yoosung’s favorite way to spend his free days. tell him he did great and he’ll be over the moon

slowly he starts noticing you are skipping meals and your health is slowly declining, and the poor boy starts worrying. he doesn’t say anything for a while, but with every meal you leave in the plate he grows more anxious

is he doing something wrong? you don’t like his cooking anymore? should he change the channel he’s following? Yoosung pls

he decides to confront you about it, and boy he wasn’t ready. when you break down he nervously pulls you into a hug, worried and sad because he thought something else, angry he didn’t notice it faster. but it was not time for that, because you were there, a sobbing mess in his arms. you can let all your frustrations and anger out, he will listen and he will try his best not to cry with you. he is the shoulder you need and he won’t move from your side until your hands are not shaking anymore and until your breathing is steady

he’ll go together with you to support groups, cause he needs help to help you. he does his very best to give you all the body and mental care he can, and all the meals he is making now are with your consent, no more surprises: do you think chicken or beef will be fine tonight? we can only have a salad, what about a warm bowl of soup? he is there for you, reminding you that you’re doing amazing and that you’re all he ever dreamed of

JAEHEE

With so much work to do, she didn’t really used to eat regularly and she was always happy when you reminded her to so she won’t pass out during the day. but since you two started your own business Jaehee had more time for herself and for her beloved girlfriend, making sure to return the care tenfold

as you moved in together things started to be a bit different, and Jaehee was quick to notice. you look pale, you’re acting more tired even in your free days and whenever you two make a proper dinner you’re not touching the food in your plate at all.

 noticing your declining health, Jaehee immediately demands you to get a physical. moment when you break down and tell her all your story, trying your best not to sound pathetic

Jaehee cups your face, her voice calm and full of love “We’re beating this, together. I love you, MC, and I will always do” she declares and with tears falling down your cheeks you believe her, nodding your head

she will constantly remind you that you’re so beautiful and strong and she will keep tracks of your meds. it will be a hard recovery but Jaehee is with you, and nothing will make her back down from seeing you happy and healthy by her side.

JUMIN

Jumin’s schedule is very strict, but since you moved into the penthouse he is trying his best to come home so you two can have dinner. you waiting for him with homemade food made him all happy inside, his beautiful wife transforming his big and cold house into a warm and happy home.

however the business demands grew in number for few days and he met your dinner with apologizing texts. you know he was trying his best, but as the days pass by you can’t help but overthink, darker thoughts slowly killing you inside

holding Elizabeth in your arms, you start to talk to the cat as if she would understand. “Elly, I’m…I’m afraid.” you confess one day as the beautiful white animal comes into your lap on the couch. “What if he grew bored of me? What if he found …someone else. better, with more beautiful shapes.” you try to remember all the wonderful words he whispers in your ear when you two share the bed, how he loves and touches every part of you, but when you look into the mirror you can’t help but wonder if it was all true. how could he love you? you’re not thin enough, your hips and breasts are not the right size or shape. why would he love you

few more days pass by until one morning you wake up to the sweet smell of pancakes, Jumin nowhere to be found. as you come to the kitchen you see him there, breakfast ready on the table. “Good morning, my angel. I took the day free, I could not bare another day without you.” he states and smile, and you feel your knees grow weak. you really missed him too and you hold him as close as you can

as you were playing with the food in your plate and were talking with him, you notice his expression turn serious all of the sudden.

“MC, I have something I believe we need to discuss. I noticed that our fridge is completely unchanged for the past few days, and forgive me my dear wife, for being suspicious of you, but I am afraid you have not been eating.”

as he was speaking you could feel your face warm up, tears threatening your eyes. he stands, feels your forehead and you start to feel cold and dizzy all of the sudden, your walls breaking down. “Tell me everything.” he demands and you can’t help but tell him, bursting into tears. you can even yell and scream and he will not get angry, he sees you’re in pain and he waits until you tire yourself out, rubbing your back or your head, not leaving your side

this is not happening for his beautiful and perfect wife, his sunshine, his angel, his one flower in the winter-covered field that is his life. his schedule changes completely, now he is with you every breakfast and never misses dinner again. if you refuse to seek professional help, he will personally watch you eat, small amounts to start but he will make sure you will always have fruits and vegetables and all various kinds of meat where you can choose from. you are his goddess, and he will whisper praise into your ear, telling you how perfect he thinks you are every day and every night, every inch of you bringing him happiness. you are loved, and you are perfect

SAEYOUNG

weird eating habits? that’s Saeyoung’s middle name. one of them

Seven is not the most observant one when it comes to food, but he does observe your change in behavior. you are more and more tired, pale and whenever the dinner is ready you find an excuse not to come

Seven, Saeran and Vandy are all living together with MC after the secret endings and you can’t change my mind

he trusts you, so he doesn’t think too much on it. if something is wrong you will tell him… right? right?? but when Vanderwood points out that you haven’t eaten at all in the past few days, Saeyoung starts getting worried

he wastes no time confronting you. that night, assured by the dark in the bedroom you two share, he slowly gets behind you into the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. he knows you’re not sleeping, but he still whispers slowly into your ear. “The honey to my buddha chips, what is wrong?”

you don’t answer, his tender and worried tone making your eyes teary. he presses a soft kiss on your shoulder, nudging his nose into your nape. you’re not fooling him

you turn around to face him, his golden eyes soft with worries were glued on yours. when you tell him that you can’t help feeling the way you do, he cares your forehead and will listen in silence all you have to say. the more you explain, even in the dark, you can see his face turns sad. you panic and start to apologize, you don’t want to be a burden, you know it’s not right but you can’t help all those thoughts

he stops you from apologizing by softly kissing your lips, and then he shakes his head. “The only thing that bothers me is that I can’t give you my eyes, MC, so you can see how beautiful and perfect you are for me.” the vulnerability in his eyes made you bite your lip, tears rolling down into the pillow.

family therapy! let’s face it the only one that knows how to properly eat in that house is Vandy. with your consent, Seven will tell them about your eating disorder and in the solidarity of the moment, Saeran admits he also shared these feelings after leaving Mint Eye. Vanderwood was the one to slowly but surely make him get on the right path, and all three of them are there for you as well. you’re part of the family, and they all wouldn’t see it the same without you. Seven gets nagged by Vanderwood, putting you in his care and in the same time putting Seven in your care. “Maybe this way he’ll learn he needs real food from time to time too”

you giggled. that’s true, as imperfect as each of you are they’re the perfect family for you

Saeyoung will make sure to remind you that, to make you laugh during meals, cheer for you with the whole cheerleader thing and to praise you

“you’re my better half, MC, now show me how these fries should be eaten because I seem to?? forget?? fries beep beep information not found please reboot” he jokes and you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. he’s such a dork

[exposenseiarchive]

headcanon --- post usj. 

regarding his physical injuries, i don’t have much to add that canon hasn’t addressed already, aside from a few things that i think may have gone hand in hand with what we already know. there’s both of his broken arms, his orbital floor being fractured, and that nasty, nasty elbow wound; all pretty self explanatory. 

my only expansions really, are making note of the fact that his back ( up to the back of his neck, even ) probably suffered some pretty severe bruising, from being under the pressure of that nomu. that said, his face ( you know, being slammed into concrete and all ) was also likely badly cut and bruised for a while after usj. as i’ve written him so far, his back has never been in especially good condition; that said, after this, it’s a just little worse yet, from this point on. 

plus, i have a difficult time believing that his ribs could handle that much pressure, either? i wouldn’t be surprised if a few were broken, or at least, bruised. this encounter really just wrecked him. from what all might said about him not having much time left, it’s very fortunate that he received medical care quickly enough. 

two days after the sports festival, he’s out of his bandages, and he says that recovery girl’s treatment was excessive -- considering that and the fact that he took the minimal amount of time off, we can assume he spent a lot of time with her during his downtime through the school day. regarding his underground hero work, i’d say he gives himself two days after that before returning to nightly patrols -- and that’s only after being convinced to do that much. he’s a workaholic, through and through. 

there’s far more to worry about when it comes to his mental health, and the steady decline of it that begins from this point, and gradually worsens over the course of the series so far. 

obviously, having a near death experience is enough to give anyone nightmares; but it’s not like he’s never had one before, being a pro for over a decade now -- it’s the intensity of the fight, it’s the fear struck in him by being crushed by a creature as strong as all might without a quirk ( if something like this exists, what could that mean for the symbol of peace -- the target? the symbol of peace, who was at his prime during shouta’s own rise to heroism ), but most of all, the risk to his students is what makes him start losing sleep at night. which, by the way, he wasn’t getting a lot to begin with. as though tsuyu’s close call with shigaraki weren’t enough to unsettle him, it’s plain to see that this is just the start of a long game, and he was all but powerless to stop it. i don’t think he downgrades his role in usj -- and he’s especially grateful to thirteen and all might -- but, it’s difficult to consider something like that a job well done when being struck down so brutally, and in front of his students. 

there’s definitely an element of pride, too, that makes his recovery a difficult period. he’s refusing any use as needed medication left and right -- until he just can’t take the pain anymore, which is somehow worse -- and he doesn’t admit that it’s for any other reason than not liking what painkillers do to you; the lack of coherency, the lack of control. and that’s true! but admitting that he needs them at all is a challenge in and of itself. shouta lightens up on this after the first few days, if only because his treatments have become exhausting, and they help him sleep just a little easier. and this point segues into the next -- autonomy. 

he’s fortunate in most verses to not be living alone. whether it be a specific verse for a ship ( i.e, in my verse with leo’s jeanist, they live together at this point ) , or a default situation of being roommates with mic ( this is specific to @fortevoce​ and i’s canon, however; in our verse, and probably just in general ), he’s got someone to help -- because as it turns out, there’s a lot he can’t do on his own with both of his arms out of commission. besides, take into consideration that he’s sore all over, between his ribs and back alone, just walking and moving is difficult -- and his legs are just about all he has to keep himself running. all of that said, he’s still shouta -- a man who has always struggled to accept help, be it because of a sense of independence and control that he’s had since he was a young boy and that he’s desperate to maintain, or because it embarrasses him that he needs it at all. 

the last thing i want to touch on is his eyes ----- his quirk, and how close a call that was. because there is so much to say and this is already so long, i’ll keep it to the usj specifics -- it’ll come up again, surely, in maybe it’s own post. we know through canon that after this, his eye strain worsens significantly, and how often he uses his quirk is greatly affected. i’d say that how often he administers eye drops is probably doubled, per day. and more than that, i think how very near he came to losing this completely has struck a chord in him; one of gratitude, but also a humbling fear, almost. he was already a cautious man, but from here on out, he’s especially aware of his own limits -- for better and for worse. 

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

i’m fine (jonah angst)

A/N: what do we do when our mental health is tanking? project our feelings into a fic! this is going to be jonah centered, isnce i feel like it’ll work the best, plus it’s jyrus month so there’s that. i hope you like it!

Trapped. Drowning. Small. That’s how Jonah would describe how he felt. Worst of all? He couldn’t even really pinpoint a reason, one specific event that caused him to feel like an elephant was standing on his chest. All he knew was that he was crying, his tears staining the lined paper that sat on his desk. The only thing he could do now was write; let the words from the pen flow in an attempt to release some of his emotions.

“Garbage,” he mumbled, writing it down angrily, “I feel like garbage. I’m either totally invisible and people act like I don’t exist, or I’m the center of attention for reasons I don’t want to be,” he continued, his pen digging so harshly into the paper that it made a few holes. But Jonah didn’t care, he barely even noticed. All he was focused on was getting more and more blue marks on the page.

“All my life I’ve tried to hard to try and prove to people that I am worthy of something. That I’m not just some average kid,” he could feel himself start to choke up, the familiar feeling rising in his chest like waves crashing down.

“With every attempt I make, I seem to be taking one step backwards. I feel so suffocated, trapped, small. Like I’m drowning in this vast ocean, and I can’t see the land. All I see is more water on the horizon, hope seeming bleaker by the moment,” he murmured under his breath, his hand shaking as he continued to write.

“I’m some sort of perfect sunbeam in people’s eyes. My smile could light up a room, they say,” he spat out with bitterness, at this point openly crying, “But when I show emotion that isn’t happiness, that’s just me being weak. It’s me acting like the hormonal teenager that I am. I’m too young to be treated with respect, but too old to be a child, so which is it? Am I am adult or not?” he growled, the pen ceasing to work. Jonah angrily scratched the paper with it, tearing holes in it, until he finally decided to just grab a new pen, a black one.

“One wrong step and all hell breaks loose. They start yelling and screaming, telling me that I’m going to amount to nothing, and ‘am I listening to them? Do I realize the severity of my situation?’. They act like I already don’t know that. Like it’s new information that I’m going to end up being a failure,” he choked out, reaching the bottom of the page and grabbing a new one, the tears blurring some of the ink.

“There are better days. Days where I feel almost normal. Almost. Like I can talk to them about anything. Like if I wasn’t a perfect person, I’d still be able to function and get through the day. Any hope that I had is slowly starting to disappear,” he stopped for a moment, steadying his breathing. How long had his hands been shaking? Had he been crying this whole time? Why was he breathing so hard. Thinking about all these questions was not helping his cause, so he opted for trying to finish his piece.

“I-I wish I didn’t have to pretend. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, what with all my practice,” he wrote snarkily, wiping his tears with his sleeve, “I hate myself for having a crush on Cyrus,” he whispered, fearing someone would hear him even though the house was empty. “As much as I tell myself I’m happy he’s dating TJ, I can’t bring myself to like that. To accept that. Because I like him so much that is physically hurts to see them together. Every hand hold, shoulder tap, high five, and kiss makes me shatter, and I spend so much time trying to piece myself back together, only to find myself broken again. Why I keep hoping something might change? I don’t know,” he choked out with a watery smile.

“Nobody knows about it, that I’m bisexual. My parents would hate me. Heck, they don’t even recognize it as a valid identity. I tried to bring up the topic, but they shut me down and sent me away to my room. I live in constant fear and I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel,” he sighed, “I can’t see this getting any better, no matter what anyone says. This is just my situation. Nothing’s gonna change. I’m trapped, and that’s all that I’ll ever be,” he finished with a harsh period, dropping his pen and examining his work.

His penmanship had declined as he continued to write, probably as a result of his hands shaking violently. Blotchy spots populated the bottom of the first page and most of the second page, leaving a few words blurred and unreadable. He let a shaky sob escape his lips, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. Folding the letter neatly into squares, he tucked it away in his box hidden in his bottom drawer, and locked it. Because nobody needed to see it. Nobody needed to see that Jonah Beck wasn’t okay. That Jonah Beck needed help. That he felt like he was screaming but wasn’t making a sound. That he was falling, and was never going to hit the ground.

Jonah Beck did not need other people thinking he was weak. Because he wasn’t weak. He was broken, far beyond repair, but he didn’t dare ask for help. That would imply that he’s weak, which he’s not. He was fine, he was doing fine, truly.

“I’m fine,” he told himself before he collapsed onto the bed and sobbed into his pillow. He was fine

[scripttorture]

Hi! I have a character who tortured in the past (as part of the police) and stopped for multiple reasons including getting fired (because he couldn’t do his job) that took away the opportunities to torture. MC will mention him losing his job but would this be due to deskilling or poor mental health? When does deskilling really start? Is it ok to mention that the mental health problems (anxiety and depression, alcohol addiction in attempts to self-medicate, and memory problems) showing up [1/2]

[2/2] over time since the addiction takes time to become apparent and is a response to anxiety and depression? Or are torturers simply more likely to engage in behavior that has risk of addiction (and what about gambling?) I was considering setting this story in 1930s America but don’t want to imply police torturers only exist in the past. The torturer does have support in a spouse. He’s going to ask MC with help finding a job but he’ll get fired and MC will look bad for suggesting him.

I don’t see a problem with having a historical setting for your story.Saying that torturers, of any stripe, existed in the past isn’t the same thingas saying they don’t exist now.

 I do have a little bit of information on the techniques American policeused at this time but it’s specific to Chicago and I don’t know if it maps tothe whole country. I’ll leave it out for now and focus on the rest of the ask.:)

 It’s difficult to pin down an exact starting point for deskillingbecause it’s not always well defined by researchers: it’s an observationaltrend rather than a single measurable variable.

 For writing purposes I think the best way to think about it is gettingout of practice. A police officer who is torturing isn’t engaged in any sort ofpolice work beyond a really shallow surface level.

 Imagine…some kind of puzzle game you enjoy. Practice makes you quickeras you start to recognise different patterns and approaches. If you stopplaying for a couple of months you might find it difficult to start again, you’reout of practice and not at the same level you were before.

 You could argue based on that that deskilling starts immediately, but Iwouldn’t expect to see a sharp decline immediately. The decline is also goingto be less apparent if he’s partnered with people who are actually doing policework and picking up his slack.

 That said- a former police officer told me that wherever possible he’dpartner ‘lazy’ policemen together because he said someone who didn’t work hardon the job would decrease the effectiveness of someone who did. And torturerstend to actively try and recruit people in their own units. Which essentiallymeans that while his partner may not have been engaged in torture they mightwell have been turning a blind eye to it.

 It also worth stressing that in a policing context deskilling doesn’t necessarily mean a drop inarrests. It means a drop in arrests ofpeople who are likely to be guilty. Quite a few police torturers wereapplauded for their high arrest rates before their crimes came to light. Theywere essentially picking up random people (usually from marginalised groups)and pressuring them into confessing. This can create an illusion of efficiencyand success.

 Commander Jon Burge of the Chicago police force is a good example of thatsort of behaviour.

 I get the impression that’s not what you’re going for with thisparticular character and the decline you’ve outlined seems reasonable andrealistic. However if his crimes have gone unnoticed for a long time it’spossible one of his superiors is behaving in this way.

 In terms of what he’s actually fired for,I think rather than approaching it as a question of deskilling versus mentalhealth problems it would be better to think about how those two factorsinteract.

 I honestly don’t know anything about hiring/firing practices inhistorical settings. That said, using a combination of factors would probablywork very well here because it would show the readers just how incompetent thetorturer has become. It will make his dismissal seem incredibly reasonable.

 I’d suggest bringing in deskilling by highlighting obvious things hemissed in cases. If you want to bring in other police characters having anon-torturer finding the obvious evidence the torturer missed (and hencesolving the case) could be a good way to up the emotional tension.

 Depression often impacts someone’s presentation and the amount of carethey put into their appearance, which could be classed as negative byemployers. It can also impact a character’s ability to sleep and eat normallywhich in turn would lower their performance at work because they’re usuallytired and hungry. He could easily come across as obnoxious and irritable.

 Coupled with memory problems I think he could easily struggle to get towork on time, especially during shift work. Not turning up on a night shiftwhere something serious occurs could easily get him into a lot of trouble. Hemight also have trouble remembering where he’s supposed to go if things getswitched around or change quickly (common occurrences in policing). So he mightturn up on the side of town he was working on last week when he’s supposed tobe investigating something else that day.

 This could make him come across as unreliable, uncaring or both.

 Anxiety, and anxiety attacks, could reinforce that impression in hissuperiors. To the people around him it would probably seem as though he’s proneto over reacting to situations and escalating them. Because if he’s in themiddle of what’s…essentially the ‘normal’ physiological response to extremethreat then he’s likely to respond as if he’s in a life and death situationeven when he isn’t.

 As an example: say your character and his partner (let’s call them Alex)are outside talking to a local tough (let’s call him Bob). Bob is posturing alittle and being verbally uncooperative, perhaps even a little insulting. Thisisn’t necessarily a threat and Bob hasn’t necessarily committed any crimes. Butthe torturer character is feeling extremely anxious at that particular moment.He starts posturing himself, perhaps says something inflammatory. Bob getsupset and the torturer becomes convinced he’s about to be attacked.

 A situation that could have been remained a simple chat suddenly becomesviolent. There was never really any danger, but your character is in aprofession that can be genuinely dangerous and he’s primed to see dangereverywhere.

 From Alex’s point of view the torturer has just made both the situationand perhaps the particular task they’re supposed to be doing, more dangerous.From Alex’s point of view the torturer has just dropped both of them in a lotmore trouble for no reason whatsoever.

 This sort of behaviour can make the character look unpredictable andperhaps prone to violence. That old ‘loose cannon’ stereotype isn’t soappealing when you have to deal with it every day and aren’t sure whether thenext unprovoked outburst could be aimed at you.

 I think it’s perfectly reasonable to treat addiction problems as anattempt to self medicate for depression and anxiety. I also think it’sreasonable to show his mental health problems getting worse over time.

 The current research can’t tell us much about how quickly symptomsdevelop in torturers. That’s because the research is done after these people have been torturing for a considerable length oftime. We can say, with reasonable confidence, that they’re usually mentallyhealthy before they start torturing. But I don’t think we can really judge howfast symptoms develop at this time.

 Writing it as a steady decline seems like a reasonable approach to mebecause we’re talking about repeated exposure to traumatising events (iewitnessing torture).

 I think that leaves the question of what drives addiction problems intorturers. I honestly don’t know. I’m also not sure whether any research hasbeen performed to find out. Anecdotally I know that it’s pretty common fortorturers who acknowledge they have an addiction problem to describe it as selfmedicating. Based on that I think it’s reasonable to write it as self medicatingin at least some cases.

 I hope that helps. :)

[forsetti]

On Guns In America: Full Mental Jacket

America loves its guns.  It loves them so much, it is willing to overlook the damage they inflict on individuals, families, and society.  It loves guns so much, it denies evidence from around the world that supports the conclusion that fewer guns = fewer gun-related injuries and deaths.  It loves guns so much, it eagerly looks for ways to make them more dangerous, more lethal, more accessible.  It loves guns because, in spite of being the world's superpower, its past and present have been steeped in insecurity, fear, and a false sense of superiority.  Schools shootings are a microcosm of the problem of guns in America-A dangerous weapon in the hands of insecure, angry, testosterone-riddled, white males whose brains and moral compasses are at best not yet fully developed and at worst, seriously and permanently fucked up.

The problem with guns in America isn't that there aren't enough of them. The problem isn't “God has been taken out of schools and society.” The problem isn't immigrants, minorities, or Muslims.  The problem is mental health-the mental health of white, male America.  To be more specific, the problem is, and always has been white supremacy. If you don't understand the role white supremacy has and does play in how America views and loves it guns, you are part of the problem. This includes a lot of “good guy” gun owners who provide cover for their not-so-good guy gun-owning brethren.

The common thread from the first European white settlers to a large number of current gun owners in America is white supremacy.  The first white men on this continent used guns to steal land, resources, and life from the Native Americans.  The 2nd Amendment was written, in part, to ratify slavery.  It was important for guns to be readily available for whites to keep slaves in line, to be able to fend off any slave rebellion, to protect their women from “violent, sex-crazed” black men.  When slavery was abolished, the heavily armed Klan came to power to ensure white rule and supremacy was maintained.  The Mulford Act in California was passed in 1967 and signed by then-governor, Ronald Regan, repealing open carry in response to members of the Black Panthers carrying guns while they patrolled the streets of Oakland to make sure the police did their jobs properly.  Gun sales went through the roof when the first black president was elected.  Right-wing media pushes gun ownership with threats of marauding bands of Mexican gangs, Muslim terrorists, race wars, and imaginary government operations that will imprison God-fearing, gun-owning, PBR-drinking, tobacco chewing, white Americans.  

The fact that America has 5% of the world's population and almost 50% of the world's guns isn't by mistake, isn't to protect it from foreign powers, isn't to defend itself from its own government.  America has the most guns because it was built on white supremacy.  Guns were the tools used to take the land from its native inhabitants.  Guns were the tools used to keep the economic resource of slavery in line. Guns were used against fellow countrymen in order to maintain the right to own other people.  Guns were used to inflict fear, harm, and death in order to preserve and enforce Jim Crow Laws.  White supremacy doesn't carry as much power without means and threat to commit violence.  Guns and racism in America go together like Dylann Roof and a Glock .45, like Mom and apple pie.

The main reasons mass shootings are more prevalent in America now than in the “Good Old Days,” are two-fold: First, white America is losing its demographic and cultural power; Second, there are exponentially more guns now than in its mythologized past.  This explosion in the number of guns in circulation is not distributed equally among the population.  While the number of guns being manufactured and sold has skyrocketed, the percentage of households that own guns has been steadily declining.  This means those who do own guns are owning more and more of them.  I'm pretty sure the Venn Diagram of homes with guns and racists is damn near one, complete circle.  

I'm not saying all gun owners are racists but a lot of the ones who own multiple guns, who purchase semi-automatics, bump stocks, high capacity magazines, push for open carry, are pro-Stand Your Ground laws, reject even the most sensible background checks, are racist as fuck.   The NRA, right wing radio, FOX News, and Republican politicians have fed these people a steady diet of fear since the passage of the Civil Rights Act.  They've latched onto anything and everything non-white that can be peddled as a threat.  They've done this with to great success.  If you don't think so, just look at the spike in gun manufactured and sold starting the second Barack Obama was elected in 2008.  At no point did he discuss taking anyone's guns during the campaign but the mere fact a black man became president scared the living fuck out of white supremacists to where they went on a weapons-buying spree that would make Adnan Khashoggi blush. There was a small spike in guns sold after Bill Clinton was elected but it went back down to normal levels during his second term.  New guns in circulation hit a record high in 2008 and the number more than doubled by the end of Obama's second term.  If you don't think race and white supremacists' fears were not the cause of this, you aren't too bright.

This relationship between guns and white supremacy in America is why you can't have a rational discussion about gun control.  Racist fears will always override common sense, logic, evidence, social well-being, decency.  To make matters worse, their irrational fears have filtered down to a lot of other gun owners.  Every day I hear someone say, “I'm a responsible gun owner and I don't do....” or “I know a lot of gun owners who are responsible and they don't do...,” as a rationalization and justification to not only defend the status quo but to argue for access to more guns.  A lot of the “good gun owners” are sure carrying a lot of water for the “bad gun owners,” right now to the point it is impossible for me to discern which is which.  Practically speaking, there isn't much difference, politically, between an overweight, shirtless red neck posting pictures of himself holding his AR-15 in front of a Confederate Flag and the gun-owning Republican next door who is a CPA who drives a KIA Soul because both are obstacles to any gun reform. The CPA might not think he is giving cover for and be providing support to Cletus's white supremacy when he parrots NRA talking points but he sure as fuck is.  If this wasn't true, you'd see these “good gun owners” come out against their fellow gun-owning brethren whenever there was a school shooting or some other horrible run-related incident.  The silence of “good gun owners” tells you where they stand and to me, it seriously calls into question just how “good” they really are.

A good person doesn't stand quietly by as children are gunned down in schools, as families are worshiping in church, as people are watching a movie in a theater.  A good person doesn't parrot conspiracy theories about gun confiscation, Jade Helm, FEMA camps, race wars... A good person doesn't look at the overwhelming evidence from the American Medical Association, the CDC, and every other industrialized country in the world and come away with the ideas that more guns are needed and teachers should be armed.  You can say and think what you will about the people you know and love who own guns about how “good” a person they are but my definition of what constitutes a good person doesn't cover this kind of moral failing.

I never see any of these “good gun owners” coming to the defense of black victims of gun violence at the hands of the police.  When 12-year-old Tamir Rice was shot within microseconds by the police for having an air rifle in an open carry state, none of these “good gun owners” came out in his defense.  Instead, they parroted the same talking points as white supremacist websites and talking heads.  The same for Michael Brown in Ferguson, Laquan McDonald in Chicago, Walter Scott in South Carolina...  Unarmed black men and boys who are killed by the police are always labeled with negative terms. Meanwhile, white mass shooters are “mentally unstable,” “misunderstood,” “a good neighbor”...  Not only are white shooters talked about in better terms, they are treated with more respect when apprehended.  Tamir Rice laid dying in the park, he received no assistance from the police who shot him.  In fact, they prohibited Tamir's sister from getting help.  When the black church shooter, Dylann Roof, in S. Carolina was caught, the police stopped by Burger King to get him food before taking him in.  When the school shooter in Florida was finally nabbed, he was taken unharmed, wrapped in a blanket, and courteously placed into a car.  Not a single “good gun owner” said a peep about any of these situations.  Instead of seeing the built-in, systemic racism of how we view and treat black victims compared to white killers, they automatically rolled out their NRA-approved talking points.  When it is time to speak up about injustice, racism, inequality, if guns are involved even remotely, these “good gun owners” always seem to stand up on the wrong side of the moral fence, if they stand up at all.  My definition of “good person” doesn't encompass this kind of shitty behavior.  At no point does an inanimate object take precedence, priority over a human being.  That many of those defending guns as THE ANSWER are also 'pro-life,” is as ridiculous as it is hypocritical.

The other main factor in America's obsession with guns is toxic masculinity.  I know the term “toxic masculinity,” has gotten pushback from a lot of people for being “too demeaning,” “too mean,” “detrimental to the discussion.”  My response to this criticism is, I don't fucking care.  If you are male and your ego is so fragile you can't handle a negative label and need to rage about it, you've pretty much proved the need for the description.  Don't #NotAllMen at me either.  This is a lazy, dishonest response.  When people use “toxic masculinity,” they are referring to very specific characteristic traits.  If you don't fit the description, then shut the fuck up about it so you don't risk joining their ranks.

Men are more violent than women.  Some men more so than others.  Insecure men of this type, even more so.  Add in a heavy dose of white and gender supremacy and you get a toxic mixture.  Throw deadly weapons designed to kill and maim at high rates and you often get very dangerous outcomes.  The more of these traits a man has, the more likely they are to be violent.  Take just about any mass shooter in America the past fifty years and you will find someone who has a history of violence against women and/or racial animus.  Men who exhibit toxic masculinity traits are mentally unstable.  They do not know how to properly process and deal with a world where they are not the king of every hill by the mere fact they are white men.  This is a cognitive problem.  To be okay with people like this having access to high powered weapons designed to kill is an epic public safety failure.  People in hospitals, jails, halfway homes...who are deemed dangerous are not allowed belts, shoestrings, anything that can be used to harm themselves or others.  Yet, we as a society have decided it is okay for mentally screwed up white men to not only own guns but make it easy for them to get as many as they want and almost whatever kind they want.  This is fucking insane.

Imagine being in charge of policy for a mental health hospital, coming up with the position that the residents who exhibit violent tendencies, believe they are naturally superior to others, and who are prone to conspiracy theories should have almost unlimited access to things that will inflict the most pain, injury, and death on others.  What Board of Directors would vote or this policy?  What rational person on the outside looking in would say, “This seems like a great idea”?  The easy answer is, “No one,” because it is so fucking stupid.

This brings us to the “the left shouldn't be so critical of the right” stage of the discussion.  Every day, I read some article or comment that claims if the left would only stop the name calling, the harsh criticism, the sense of superiority, then the right would “do the right thing.”  This argument is so fucking stupid it really doesn't deserve a response but since I'm feeling generous, here goes...  

Either your arguments and positions are supported by evidence and tethered to reality and morality or they are not.  If they are not, then it doesn't matter what the left says or thinks about you, they are still fucked up.  If you don't want to be on the wrong side of an issue, of history, of morality, then the ONLY choices you have is to either continue to be on the wrong side or mea culpa the fuck out of yourself and get on the right side.  There IS NO OPTION where you get to believe the wrong things and also get to be on the right side. These are the fucking rules of logic, of morality, of history.  Don't blame liberals because you are wrong.  Don't blame anyone but yourself for being on the wrong side.  Suck it up. Take the personal hit.  Learn a fucking lesson.  Just don't blame others for your intellectual, moral failings.

If you really believe guns are the answer and the more the merrier, you are a deeply damaged, cognitively delusion person and a big part of the reason why America is so entrenched in a culture of guns.  You are mentally unhinged and a danger to everyone around you and to society, in general.  And, I'll bet, if I scratched the surface of your personality even the slightest, I'd uncover a whole lot of racism and bigotry just beneath the surface. You can say that guns aren’t the problem, which may be true. The real problem is racism mixed with toxic masculinity.  I am all for doing everything possible to address these problems. However, until we do, I think keeping weapons out of their hands that can and do inflict massive damage to others is the very fucking least we can do. To do...to think otherwise is the very definition of “crazy.”