#and then woke up at 6am out of a dead sleep to write about the moments in between her death and lorelai taking her spirit to the next life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ditzydisaster13 · 1 year ago

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I very clearly don’t post on here, but i feel like posting one of my writings because why not. if anyone likes my art o my writing please let me know and go ahead and follow me on wattpad @Starjade13

((Image above is simply edited))

Sleeping bags. Everywhere. Purple. Black. Red. Green. And Blue. Makeup; Lipstick. Eyeshadow. Eyeliner galore. Blush. Hair ties and combs. Curlers and straighteners. Bags of chips and cans of soda. There wasn’t a trash bag in sight. And this room; was a disaster.

Denki woke up to the mess of Mina's room. Her pale pink floof peaking over the top of her Purple sleeping bag. Bakugou was settled in an Oliver green one; rolled half on top of Sero who was dead asleep in a black sleeping bag. He had somehow managed to get the entirety of his legs underneath Mina’s bed.

Kirishima was in his signature red sleeping bag with hair and pajamas visible to match. He wasn’t far away from where Denki rubbed the sleep out of his eyes from his Blue sleeping bag. They were next to the door; Denki’s bag with his clothes and hygiene essentials against the wall.

Denki searched the aforementioned age for two large rubber bands. It was still too early to change out of his pajamas. But it wasn’t too early to start cleaning up his objects. He rolled up his sleeping bag and bound his pillow to it with the two rubber bands. Next he grabbed his toothbrush out of his bag and went Into Mina’s attached restroom.

He quickly brushed his teeth and dryer his face off. Deciding to use a small amount of lotion for his face: thankful he refused to let Mina put any makeup on him. He returned to her dorm room and settled all of his stuff in his bag, he checked his phone next. The device had been charging since the Sun first started to rise.

Denki fell asleep late; or early morning depending on what you consider about 6am to be upon a sleep schedule. He grabbed at his phone. Tugging it away from the cord and very satisfyingly the cord itself detached when he pulled away his phone. He checked the time.

His blonde hair fell over his eyes, blocking his view. But it was 10am. It wouldn’t seem like a big deal to most people. But Denki was running on less than 4 hours asleep and everyone else was still dead to the world. Denki should have known what was going to happen when Mina’s phone buzzed.

The pink girl stirred in her sleeping back and sat up. She rubbed at her eyes for a moment and yawned deeply. She was beautiful. It was weird. How does someone wake up naturally and gracefully. She stretched her arms over her head and spoke softly with a deeper tone.

“Morning Kaminari-“ and she yawned again. Then reached down for her phone.

“Morning Mina. Who is it?”

“Hmm, it’s from the girls group chat. Let’s see,” she began and tapped into the group chats messages.

Suddenly she squealed. “Oooo!”

“What is it?” Denki asked suddenly on the edge. He wasn’t sure wether to be excited or worried.

“Help me wake everyone up first! Let’s go let’s go!” Mina urged shouting.

If the other weren’t awake before then they were surely not fully asleep any longer. Denki and Mina worked together to wake up the other three boys. It didn’t take long to wake everyone up. Bakugou woke up first; confused and angry. And his screams woke up the others. And soon after

“What’s going on Mina?” Kirishima asked once he had calmed Bakugou down enough.

She squealed again and held up her phone viewing the messages from the group chat.

“ Sato is making pancakes for breakfast. And it’s been like forever since it last happened! Tsu told me. So let’s all get-“ she never got to finish her sentence as the newly woken up boys all began to run for the stairs. Too impatient to wait for the elevator.

Denki followed them all as quickly as possible. Overtaking Kirishima by accident when they reached the final staircase. The five of them raced down. As quietly as possible because half of the class was still asleep. Who knew if their sleep schedules were as bad as Denki’s. He for sure didn’t.

If they were, he felt bad; but again, he had no idea. He never left his room until 8am. That was the earliest he decided to let the world know he was awake. And the earliest he had ever gone to sleep in his life; (that he remembers-> but he asked and his parents said that as a baby till about 5 years old he wouldn’t even settle down until 10.) was Midnight.

So if anyone was like him; ADHD, a stupid quirk, a poor sleep schedule, the need to take very quick naps just to function. Denki resumed his focus on the stairs only to be shoved out of the way (on accident) by a very excited and clearly hungry, as told by how his eyes lit up at the thought of food and how he licked his lips, Kirishima Eijirou.

In the rush and blur of his friends, plus the force of the push; Denki was pretty much thrown backwards. Everyone was practically in the kitchen by now. But Denki was in the wall. He rammed into it. His side hit the banister but a bruised rib was the least I’d his worried. Because he was halfway off of one of the steps, he tried to right himself up, bent his foot wrong, and slipped down the rest of the stairs.

By now half of the class was in the kitchen or upstairs. You either got warm buttery pancakes with syrup; or an extra few minutes of sleep. But his ankle; definitely broken. Not just sprained or twisted or even bruised. It was downright broken and he could feel it in the way he tried to wiggle his toes.

Denki activated his quirk, hoping if he would massage his ankle a little bit with the heat I’d his quirk it would help with the pain a bit. Cold would in fact have not helped and Denki knew enough about his quirk and his body that when he tried. It helped a little bit. So as carefully as possible he tugged up his pajama-pants leg and pressed his thumbs into his ankle.

He nearly screamed at the first contact. It was pure pain and agony. He didn’t want to blame his excited friends, but he also didn't want to have to wait until somebody found him. So activating his quirk and massaging the skin and muscles around his ankle reduces the pain by a small amount. Not nearly enough gas he had hoped; but brought that he could stand up for a moment and get an inch or so closer towards the front door of the dormitory.

Which was exactly how Midoriya found him. Massaging his clearly broken ankle with his quirk, and then standing up really fast (making himself dizzy in the process) taking a few wobbly hops on one foot before going back down with his left leg in the air to protect his ankle.

“Hey-“ Denki said sheepishly.

“Hey,” came Izuku’s reply.

“What’s up?” Denki asked as he continued to Jan his thumbs into the swelling skin around his ankle.

“Nothing much. How’s your ankle?”

“Right to the point as always.” Denki chuckled.

Midoriya looked anything but amused. Slight angler flamed up in his eyes but a deep concern continued to pool in those orbs and each wave of it crashed against the fire of anger.

“Are you okay?” Denki asked, confused at what he saw when he looked into Midoriya’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. But what about you? Why are you asking about me?”

“You’re clearly upset by something,” the blonde brought his hand away from his shin, using his newly free hand to tuck a strand of hair away from his face while his other hand kept his pajama bottoms up.

“Well I’m worried for you. But I’m also angry at whoever pushed you down the stairs. I see the bruise on your elbow, I saw the whole in the wall. Your ankle is very obviously twisted at the least. You wouldn't have let yourself fall like that. And if you tripped you would t be all the way down here,”

Denki looked up the row of stairs. The hole in the wall from his elbow wasn’t really deep; it was much more of a dent, and at the top of the staircase. Midoriya was right. If he [Denki] had only slipped he would still be at least 5 stairs up and not grounding in quiet pain on the ground. He placed his hand back over his ankle; activating his quirk once again hoping to relieve some of the pain and he decided to look back down and meet Izuku’s eyes.

((Image above belongs to me, i drew is specifically for this 1shot))

“It’s just broken. I think.”

“You think?!” Midoriya cried incredulously.

“Hahah- yeah um. It’s broken, for sure. But I mean I would be surprised if Recovery Girl couldn’t fix it.

“She’ll be able to fix it mostly, kiss it better and all that.”

“Mostly?”

“Well it’s not like it’s just magic. Her quirk tires her out as much as it tires us out. Unfortunately the more often she uses her quirk in you little by little it works less. It never stops working. (HC) But you’ll have a lot of the healing to do on your own. You’ll probably need some sort of splint for a few days or so then just use a cane. It sounds embarrassing but healing arms is much easier than healing legs. Trust me.”

“So what do I do then?!” Denki sulked for a moment, throwing his body into the stairs behind him hissing when his side came in contact with one of the corners.

“Get up.”

“What?! It’s not like I can do that very well. I can’t really walk. How will we even get to UA? Recovery Girls office?!“ Denki paused as Midoriya grabbed his arms.

“Will I have to carry you? Or will you be alright with some assisted walking?” Midoriya practically hissed. Denki was being a little ridiculous. ( Midoriya isn’t mad he’s more of a panic worried older brother thing rn)

“I give up!” Denki groaned, shoving his face into his hands. He knew Midoriya was still watching and waiting for him to do something. So with an awkward blush Denki reached out both of his arms so that the greenette could help him up.

It wasn’t long until the two of them were outside making their way towards one of the side entrances to UA. Midoriya walked on the left side of Denki so while the blondes left leg was skipping a bit above the ground (like a shaky hover)

“So who was it?” Midoriya asked, trying to be polite.

“Huh?” Denki had spaced out, focusing on the pulse he could feel spiking up from his leg. It was a soft throbbing, more annoying than painful at this point. His ankle was swollen and bruised; blue and yellow and purple. It honestly looked like a five year old drew on his shin with as many markers as they could find. The coloration made him almost dizzy. But he had to pay attention to Midoriya now.

“Who pushed you.”

“It was an accident.”

“Who?”

“He was just excited for breakfast. He ran a ast me and just-“

“Denki, no. I don’t care if they didn’t mean it or if they were hungry. Who is it? Why on earth are you protecting them?”

“I’m not-“

“Do you like them or something?”

“No i dont. I don’t like him like that.”

“So just tell me who it is! You don’t have ti stand up for them.”

“I can’t even stand-“

“That’s not the point! Who is it Denki?!”

Midoriya was fed up at this point. Whoever Denki was protecting didn’t need to be hidden. He would much rather find out who it is so he [Izuku] could force the loser to apologize.

“Was it Kacchan?”

“No-“ Denki mumbled, an audible swallow followed soon after.

“So I’m close then?”

“Maybe-“

“Was is-“

“Just stop. It was one of my friends. I forgive him, okay.”

“It was Kirishima, wasn’t it?”

“How did you-“

“I think the whole class would be shocked he would do that. I think I get why you’re trying to defend him. But I just wanna call him and get him to apologize to you. Okay?”

“Maybe?” Denki’s voice rose in pitch with his question.

“I bet he’ll bring you pancakes. You know how sorry he’s gonna be.”

“Yeah. That’s kinda the reason I wasn’t gonna tell you. He doesn’t need that guilt on him. It’s just a broken ankle-“

“Shhhh.”

“Why are you shushing me?!”

“Look, Kaminari. We’re nearly at Recovery Girl’s office. You’re gonna get settled down on a bed; I’ll flag RG down to take care of your ankle. And I’ll call Kirishima and get him to bring you some pancakes. Okay?”

Denki sighed. He looked down at his ankle. At the shape, the swelling. At the coloration. But he focused most on the numbing pain.

“Midoriya?”

“Yes Kaminari?”

“Give it a Rest.”

#mha denki #my hero academia #denki bnha #Kaminari denki #midoriya izuku #angst #fanfic #wattpad #1shot #anime #bakusqaud

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suzumenokakimono · 4 years ago

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I was here first II

Pairing: Namjoon / Jimin x reader

Genre: AU, smut, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, fwb, friends to lover

Summary: Jimin was your roommate, best friend and in love with you so bad it wasn’t even funny. His friends knew this all along and were surely surprised you’ve never noticed. But you didn’t. You were oblivious as the Earth was round. Now, Jimin decided it was time to finally confess to you. He asked one of his closest friends, Namjoon, to help him. But what if you end up liking Namjoon instead of Jimin?

Word count: 7k

A/N: Thank you, N.

While I was writing this, I realized what’s ‘wrong’ with my writing style but then also it hit me: not gonna change it.

Also, there is stuff going on in my head, hence the plot. * flies away *

Namjoon though.

Tagged: (as requested 💜: @ jinnfires)

Masterlist | Chapters: One | Two | Three (incoming)

-------

That was your favorite mug.

You remembered how you got it, actually. Jimin had broken your mug. The only mug you had brought with you when you’d moved in. It was really stupid, it was not even special to you. You just never bought anything more, never needed it to, to be honest.

Before you started to live with Jimin, your previous roommate had had a lot of stuff and she’d always let you use it. It was really convenient and you gladly took advantage of that. When she moved out, you were left with just your stuff, which was not a lot. Jimin always said you could use anything you wanted from his kitchen but it was nice to have something of your own. So when he broke your only mug, he immediately bought you a new one. He was feeling very bad about that and kept sending you tons of links to internet shops, asking what you would like. To finally make him stop crying over the whole situation, you’d picked one and you used it ever since. After those two years in this apartment, you got yourself more things, that you could call yours, but this one stayed as your favourite.

And now it was broken. You were standing in the middle of the kitchen and looking at the shattered pieces on the floor, not sure how that had happened. No. That was a lie. You knew exactly how it had happened, you just weren’t sure… how.

The morning started pretty ordinarily. It was a weekend so both you and Jimin didn’t have work and stayed at home. He was trying to convince you to go to the cinema or something, but looking at the weather you weren’t sure it was the best idea. You just wanted to stay inside. You decided to make yourself a nice tea and finally start reading that book you’d wanted to read for so long.

Jimin’s face leaned out from behind the door frame to check what was going on. He had heard the noise and wanted to make sure you were alright. He saw you standing in the kitchen and started to think he had misheard but then he noticed the mess on the floor. He didn’t have any issues with recognizing your mug. Or what was left of it.

“Did you just…?”.

You hadn’t even noticed him. When he spoke you turned around, surprised by his presence.

“Huh… what?”

“Did you just break the mug from me?”

For some reason he was pretty amused by this. Knowing what happened with the previous one and seeing what you did with the one he got you, was a little ironic.

“I can’t believe you broke THE MUG!”

He chuckled to himself but then he saw your face expression and just burst into laughter. You looked so surprised and out of place, for what the reason he assumed, was your accident with the mug. He started to help you clean up, since you were barefoot and could step into some smaller pieces and hurt yourself.

“What happened?”

“Um… sorry. I… got distracted. Shame…”

You really were sorry about that. One of the reasons you liked the mug was how you’d actually gotten it. The story was simple but there was a story and that’s what counted. You can’t say that very often about your everyday life’s items.

You helped Jimin with cleaning, making sure nothing stayed on the floor and took out one of his mugs from the cabinet. While doing so you were holding your phone in your other hand, looking intensely on its screen.

“So, what about the movie?”

“... movie? What movie?”

“Are you still not going?”

“No…”, you looked at your phone again. “Something came up.”

-------

When Jimin opened the door, it was around 6am. It was already getting bright outside but all he was thinking about was to sleep for the next week. He was exhausted and kind of dehydrated. Not being entirely conscious he went to the kitchen and just turned on the tap to drink some water. He twisted his head to the side and leaned over the sink. Cold, clean water ran down his throat and felt a little more alive than a few seconds ago. He promised himself, not for the first time to be honest, not to drink that much next time. Let’s face it. He was not going to quit drinking entirely. He just wanted not to feel half dead each morning after a fun, long night. That was never fun. The only plus of those situations was you, you taking care of him when he was in a state where crawling on the floor seemed like the only possible way of moving. You always complained but never denied helping him. It also gave you many possibilities of making fun of him.

He turned off the water and dried his face with a towel. He needed a shower but was too tired to care about that. Soft bed was calling for him. While passing by your room, he saw the door not entirely closed, so he quietly stepped closer to check up on you. You were sleeping in your bed, wrapped in your comforter like a burrito and snoring quietly. Your pretty dress was on a chair and shoes discarded separately on the floor. He saw your hair pointing out and this way he was sure you were okay. Namjoon did what he was asked to. He went to his room, feeling a little heavy, remembering again what had happened in the club and how his whole plan didn’t work out at all. He knew it was his fault that he backed out and just left you. But for him, the price was too big. What ifs were killing him this whole time and he decided he would not take this risk. He needed more time.

He closed your door behind him and went to his room. He had a lot of stuff to think about. Maybe a new plan to figure out. But not this morning. The only thing he needed and also wanted to do was sleep.

-------

It had been a week since you, Jimin and Namjoon went out. None of you mentioned the night very often, if at all. When you woke up the next day, you just wanted to die quietly without any distractions and minding silence in Jimin’s room, he was already dead. You both spent that time separately, doing your own stuff, doing everything that was necessary to survive. After that, you just got back to the normal life routine. You hadn’t found out what the meaning of that night was anyway, so you didn’t pay much attention to it.

No. That was a lie. You didn’t care much about the situation with Jimin. Sure, he’d acted weird and left you for some random girl in the club, but he was your friend and apparently he’d gotten back home safe. You did care, however, about the other guy. The one you met that night.

Namjoon didn’t give you any contact information, no phone number, no messenger options. When he’d left your room, he’d just disappeared and never tried to reach out to you. He’d left you with just a memory of him, him on top of you in your bed, groaning low in your ear. This image stayed in your head rent free and didn’t want to move out anytime soon. You didn’t remember everything. You lost a little track of the events after you both left the cab. But you were definitely sure you’d held his dick at some point. That was unmistakable.

Having this vividly in your mind, you tried to find him. The best way and probably the only way, was through Jimin. You’d started by asking him how work was, hoping he would mention his friend at some point. But he didn’t. So’d you tried to nonchalantly talk about your night out but it somehow ended up even worse. He’d changed the subject immediately, without any reason and had been avoiding it since then. You didn’t understand that, but nevertheless, you understood you wouldn’t get any information this way. Sighing heavily, you dropped it for a moment. You really liked Namjoon and wanted to see him again, but apparently you had to wait for something to happen or him to find you, because the universe was telling you to wait. So you waited.

It was Friday evening. You were looking for a movie to watch and you wanted to watch it in the living room. Jimin was writing to you the whole day how one of his annoying co-workers had a birthday and was insisting on going out later to a bar. He was nagging how he didn’t want to, but had to and was asking you for some good excuses to go back home. You liked the idea of spending the evening alone in your apartment so you refused and laughed at his response, when he realized you enjoyed his suffering. Sitting wrapped in a blanket on your living room couch, you were ready for tonight's film show, knowing very well your roommate wouldn't be home anytime soon.

-------

Jimin was sipping his beer without any enjoyment. He was forced to come to the bar and drink, and that took all the fun from being at the bar and drinking. He thought maybe pouring all possible alcohol straight down his throat would be a good solution to survive this ‘birthday party’ but then again he promised himself not to drink that much. At least, not as much as last time. Oh fuck, last time… Just thinking about it made him anxious and he immediately took a big sip. It’d been a week and he couldn’t get over it. He didn’t talk to anyone about that, he was embarrassed and so pissed at himself. He thought maybe hiding everything deep, deep inside him would just make it go away.

Namjoon sat next to him, pushing him to the side, forcing Jimin to make more space. He also got invited for the party, but was a little merrier than his friend. He was drinking some dark beer and looking around the crowd. One of their female colleagues tried to talk to him, he was pretty sure she was flirting, but after a few moments he found an excuse and ran away.

“She has nice legs.”, Jimin mumbled from his glass.

“Yeah, then go and talk to her. I’ll save your spot.”

“I don’t think she likes me. I think she likes you.”

“Bummer.”

“Why are you so defensive? You’re not madly in love with your friend, like me. Or are you?”

Of course Jimin had to mention you. He was drinking and was in a bad mood from the moment they’d entered the bar. This was the first time they actually talked with each other, since your night in the club. Jimin never got back to Namjoon, like he said he would. They were avoiding one another, for their own reasons, which they kept for themselves. Namjoon was seriously scared that everything that had happened between you two was perfectly noticed and his friendship with Jimin was ruined. He really didn’t want that but at the same time, he couldn't blame Jimin. So, when he’d come to the table to finally break the ice, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find. It had surprised him that Jimin didn’t seem to be angry.

“I’m not in love with you. You’re not my type. Too much penis.” Jimin snored at that excellent joke and got back to his drink. This was a good sign.

This past week hadn’t been easy. Avoiding his friend and distracting himself with anything that’s possible just to not think about you was pretty exhausting. He was actually happy someone had come up with the idea of going out to the bar. He needed to chill.

“I fucked this up, didn’t I?”, Jimin spoke out of the blue.

“No. Because you haven’t done anything.”, Namjoon said, without even thinking.

Jimin looked at his friend with an unspoken question, not sure what he meant. Namjoon swallowed hard. The fuck he’d just said that and started the whole conversation? He didn’t mean to say that! How the hell was this supposed to help to not think about you? This was already not going well.

“You’ve never actually tried, you know… talked to her…”, he started to sweat.

“Yes, exactly. I fucked this up, because I have no balls to try.”

“But… why?”

“I thought… maybe…”, he started to mumble. “I should first make her jealous, you know? By picking up someone else and she… would…”

“Make… her jealous? How the hell was she supposed to be jealous if she had no idea what was going on?”

“You know… She sees me with some hot chick, thinks, oh that could have been me…”

Namjoon smelled bullshit from a distance. Jimin was too smart to actually think this kind of shitty strategy would work. Plus, that had never been his plan for that night in the first place..

“Oh, cut the crap!”, Namjoon lost his patience and probably shouted too loud, Jimin looked at him, surprised. “What the hell really happened that night?”

Jimin stopped sipping his beer, trying to collect his thoughts. He was torned apart. He wanted to forget about everything and at the same time, needed to say everything that was eating him alive.

“I panicked.”, Jimin’s sight was glued to the table.

“That… I would call an understatement, at least.

“Remember when we were talking and… we started to look back on the day we met… She mentioned how I was drunk and falling from my chair… She turned to you…”

Namjoon froze in place. This was it. Jimin was about to say how him, his friend, stole the girl of his dreams. There was no turning back.

“She was talking about me like the biggest dork. She was laughing, not taking me seriously…”

Namjoon took a deep breath and wasn’t sure he understood. His mind was completely lost in connecting the dots.

“She’s seeing me as her friend. I was trying to be with her that night, like with the other girls, you know? I was flirting and touching her, she didn’t care at all. We both were drinking and yet… it wasn’t enough. That’s why I ran away.”

Jimin got back to sipping his drink, not looking at Namjoon. And if he had, he would’ve seen an absolutely blank page. Namjoon felt like his brain got a reset and he was sitting with a blue screen displayed for everyone watching. He never doubted that what he did back in the club was wrong, however he was certain Jimin had seen it and was about to kill him. Not noticing how he had been drooling all over you was pretty impossible. And yet, here he was, safe and sound. He narrowed his eyes in that moment, finally connecting the dots. You both were pretty dumb and blind when it came to feelings and reading someone else’s emotions.

“So… you got scared because she was laughing at something you did three years ago?”

“It sounds stupid, I know. But I felt really weird. Like, me doing that is all she can see. Like, that night defined me in her eyes. She sees me as a dork… nothing serious…”

“You’re not a dork.”, Namjoon sighed heavily. This conversation was pretty weird and was making him nervous. However, what made him slightly relaxed was that, one problem was already solved: Jimin was absolutely oblivious about that night.

“I know I am. And she knows I am.”

“Maybe she likes dorks?”, why the fuck did he say that?!

“I actually don’t know what her type is.”

I’m her type.

“Did she date anyone, after moving in with you?”

“I’m not sure… I think there was a guy or two… nothing really serious.”

“You’ve never talked about this? Never gossiped about your lovelife?”

“We did, but she was always more curious about mine, since I did bring some girls a few times. She was always asking why a handsome guy like me doesn’t have a girlfriend”, Jimin smiled to himself after a word handsome. He liked when you called him that.

“She thinks you’re handsome.”

“And she doesn’t like me.”

But she likes me.

Namjoon mentally slapped himself for that.

“What about the other girl?”, he desperately wanted to change the subject.

Talking about you, in a perspective of you liking Jimin or not, was killing him. You were on his mind all the time anyway, since you’d met. And he had to hide that. He started to have problems with being a good friend and supporting Jimin with his crush and his efforts to win you over.

“What girl?”

“The one you were making out when you left us. Y/A saw the two of you at the bar.”

“There’s not much to talk about.”, Jimin looked flustered. He turned his head away.

“Why? Did you go with her and something went wrong?”

“No… it’s….”

“Did she laugh at you? You couldn’t do it? You were too drunk? You fell asleep in the middle?”

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, yes I am!”

Jimin looked at Namjoon, waiting for another assumption about his night. But none of them came, he stopped making stuff up after seeing his friend's expression.

“It’s nothing like that. I didn’t go with her.”, Jimin sighed.

“I’m a little confused now. You ditched Y/A for some random chick and then you just… came home?”

“No. I… “

“What? What the fuck happened?”

“I went to the internet caffe and played Overwatch.”

Namjoon snorted so much his beer came right through his nose. However, he admitted it was worth it. He would have never expected Jimin to say something like that.

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“Ugh… Yes, we made out a little but I wasn’t in the mood. I was thinking about Y/A the whole time and it… it just didn’t feel right.”

“You were thinking about Y/N while making out with another girl?”

“I forgot how big of a dipshit you can be, you know?”

You have no idea.

-------

The doorbell woke you up from the deepest moment of your dream. When you lifted your head you weren’t sure where you were, what was going on or who you were. You needed a moment to recover and another ring to finally get up. Blindly you reached out to your nightstand and grabbed your phone.

2:05 am. Who the fuck was that?

You had gone to sleep some time ago, knowing Jimin had his own keys and he would help himself with opening the door. You were not expecting anyone, especially at this time, so while still being a little asleep you were very hesitant to open the door. You looked through the visor on the door but it was too dark to determine anything. But there was someone there, for sure.

Another ring made you jump in place. Someone was really stubborn and didn’t want to let this go. So, hoping nobody doing this kind of noise would try to kill you, you slowly turned the locks and looked at what was waiting for you in the corridor.

First you saw Namjoon. He was standing right in front of the door, basically leaning into it. He barely looked at you because all his attention was on another person hanging on his shoulder. And that person was Jimin.

You looked first at Namjoon, then at your roommate, then again at his friend. Many questions were growing inside your head, you were fully awake at this point.

“What…?”

You tried to articulate one of them, but it died before it left your mouth. Was Jimin unconscious? You just pointed at him, which was worth a thousand words.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t find his keys. He said they’re in his pocket but… I’m not gonna…

He moved a step forward, trying to get to the apartment, without bumping into you. You shook your head, realizing you were blocking his way. You moved away to make the corridor clear but Namjoon didn’t go any further.

“Can you… help me?”

You immediately got to the other side of Jimin and put his arm on your shoulder. You felt his weight on you and a second after that you smelled all the alcohol he drank at the bar. He was indeed unconscious. His body felt like a ragdoll, it was really hard to get him into his room, but both of you somehow managed to. His feet were dragging along on the floor while you pulled him through the corridor. You threw him on his bed, which was a little too rough, but he didn’t react in any way.

“I think this time he might be dead.”, Namjoon was standing next to you.

“Possibly.”

You sighed heavily. You knew what was coming so you jumped out to the bathroom and brought a big plastic bowl. You put it next to Jimin’s bed, just in case he woke up and decided he didn’t like all the alcohol he had in his body. And food. And his insides. You assumed him waking up would be a very dramatic moment.

“That’s clever. I don’t think he’ll aim for that anyway, but at least we tried.”, Namjoon didn’t fool himself. If Jimin woke up, he would be half dead and puking into the bowl would be the last thing on his list.

You both left the room. You were trying to act quietly, even though there was no such force that could have woken up Jimin in this state. You closed the door behind you and looked at Namjoon. Before, you smelled alcohol because of your friend. He drank like there was no tomorrow, for sure. But Joon did not say no to drinks as well. He was not as drunk as your roommate but he was swaying in place, not able to focus his sight on you.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine… I just need to lay down…”, he was a little embarrassed and wanted to go home and sleep.

“Do you want some tea?”, you asked, already being on your way to the kitchen. On your way you brushed your hand on his arm, trying to pretend that was an accident, didn’t mean much.

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just watched you going, focusing on how you were swaying your hips, followed you and after a few seconds.

“Tea sounds perfect.”

He was watching while you were jumping around and making him and yourself a tea. Yet again he saw you in a different light than before. When he stood still, holding the door frame for support, he focused on the way you looked. He remembered you in your pretty dress and makeup. Well, also without a dress. But this time you were just in your pajama shorts and a simple loose T-shirt. Your hair was tied up on top of your head and you were definitely not wearing any makeup. Even though his vision was not the best at that time, he decided you looked very pretty with a bare face.

When the tea was ready, you grabbed both mugs by their handles and just took them to the living room, giving him an unspoken direction to do the same. Namjoon followed you again and you both sat on the couch. He felt much better sitting, it made him feel more sure he wouldn’t fall down. Or at least from his seat, there was a much shorter trip to the floor.

“Party was that good?”, you asked.

“Afterparty, maybe.”

“After-what? Why did you need that?” “It was Jimin’s idea. He… didn’t have much fun at the birthday party, so we went somewhere else just to… well, drink. We didn’t plan to stay long… and that part of the plan worked out.”

Namjoon seemed a little tired. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Was he falling asleep? You took that opportunity and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing his beanie this time. His natural dark hair was short and dyed to a blonde color, shaved at the bottom and slightly underneath into a nice undercut. It really suited him and you were fighting with the urge to brush your fingers through his hair. You imagined how it would feel under your fingertips. Probably very soft. His grey hoodie was a little loose on his body, you’d noticed he liked a little baggier clothes. He’d matched it with light jeans and red converse.

Somehow, you missed him and wanted him to stay. Even just to talk with you. You were pinching yourself to start a conversation, any conversation, you didn’t want him to leave.

“You know, after that fun night in the club you disappeared… I haven’t heard from you… ”

Namjoon opened his eyes and looked at you. It definitely helped him wake up.

“I…”, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He had been avoiding you. Not that you’d had many occasions to actually meet. But he was trying to forget about a pretty girl that he really liked but very well knew, his friend was in love with. He had to remind himself of that all the time. The whole evening with Jimin was not helping at all. Getting in touch with you, after all that had happened the night you met was a very bad idea.

“I didn’t want to bother you. We’ve barely met and I thought that… we’re not that close, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re not friends… we don’t have to hang out… you know... “, he had no idea what he was talking about.

“We’re not but you’re Jimin’s friend. You can’t run away from him.”

“I didn’t run away from you.”

“But you did avoid me?”

“Yes. NO!”, his brain was malfunctioning. He pulled himself up, grabbed his tea and took a sip. It burned his tongue a little but was a great distraction.

“You don’t like me?”

“NO!”, he almost jumped in his place and spilled his tea on his legs. “What? Of course not! I do!”

You laughed at his reaction.

“I like you too.”

You smiled at him, blushing a little. You took your mug from the coffee table to distract yourself from the embarrassment that was attacking you. He didn’t miss that. He was still a little buzzed but you talking to him was keeping him awake. He was watching you intensely, trying to remember how you’d looked that night. He put his mug away, to avoid spilling tea anywhere and leaned his head back on the couch sliding down a little in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was getting sleepy again or whether your presence was affecting him this way. Whatever it was, a nice warm feeling spread through his body after your small confession. He smiled back at you, which made you even more flustered and you almost hid your face in your mug.

“Ah… you know… after all that happened, I was pretty sure you actually don’t want to see me.”

“But, why? Did I do something stupid? Did I… fall asleep while we were…?”

“No, we didn’t do anything! When I put you into bed you were already sleeping.”

“I actually wanted to ask, did I fall asleep while we were kissing.”, you giggled. You remembered Namjoon left before anything happened.

“Oh, then, my answer would be yes!”, he smiled with his cute smile, showing his dimples. A shy blush also showed up on his cheeks.

“Huh, I think I drank a little too much.”

“That’s fine. It’s not like I was sober. I was there too.”

“Yes… yes, you were.”, you looked into his eyes. “I was drunk, half naked and you rolled me into my comforter and left.”

Namjoon’s breath hitched for a second. Your straightforward statement made him remember how that had actually happened, that everything he had in his head really took place.

You on the bed, him on top of you. He tried to get up, you held him. He was trying to leave, you took off your dress. Later he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t happen, he didn’t see you naked waist up, that his hard dick wasn’t…

“... yeah, you took that dress off…”, he drifted off for a moment, looking in your direction, but not at you. Images were flashing right in front of his eyes.

Then he heard you laughing.

“I did take my dress off”, you hid your face in your hands. Your expression changed in one second, again.

Namjoon snorted right after you. Talking about this was making him a little nervous. He felt his hands starting to sweat. You were sitting close to him, with your legs on the couch, one arm spread behind his head. Your shorts riled up your thighs showing even more skin. Loose T-shirt hanging on your shoulder, making your collarbone very much visible.

You put your mug back to the table and moved closer to him.

“We were both drunk, but I do remember most of it.”, you knew you were blushing, but didn’t want that to stop you.

“... I… maybe half of it.” he lied. He remembered everything.

“I can’t stop thinking about what if…”

He swallowed hard. He looked at your lips. Your hand behind his head found his hair and played with it nonchalantly. He was pretending he didn’t notice. You scratched your neck with your other hand and glued his sight to your skin. He remembered everything.

“What if what?”

“What if we slept together? It’s not like we’re in relationships, so we wouldn't be doing anything wrong… right?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend…”, he shook his head a little to emphasize this.

“Me neither. Or a boyfriend.”, you smiled.

You were getting closer and closer. He felt a hint of a fruit scent. Was that your shampoo? Your finger touched his neck. Very lightly, but a shiver went down his spine. Your touch was hot on his skin and he immediately started to want more.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

You took your hand away, like you realised what you were doing and that was way too far and too fast. For a second you panicked, a train of thoughts was attacking you and you felt like you were the only one that was trying to do something there. Like you were the only one who felt the spark and wanted to use it. Like he didn’t want you anymore.

He raised his head a little, he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth was slightly open.

You were wrong. You were so fucking wrong.

You leaned into him and you kissed him without another word. He didn’t oppose at all. After all, if you hadn't, he would have done that himself. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. One of his hands wandered to your neck. He also felt yours on his, it went straight back to its place where it had been before. He tasted like beer and tea at the same time. You felt the alcohol in his breath but didn’t care much. You took his lower lip between yours and sucked. You felt him smiling, he liked that.

One of his hands grabbed your T-shirt and pulled you closer to him. It made you lose your balance and you put your hand on his chest for support. He didn’t stop though. He was trying to get you as close as possible.

Without thinking much, you straddled his lap, putting one leg on each side of his hips. His hands were immediately on your bare thighs. Kneading the flesh he moved them up, right on your ass. Grabbing you shorts, he pulled them right up, putting both of your ass cheeks on display. Holding them, made you move closer and spread your legs wider. You sat right up above his crotch, feeling his hardening dick under your thigh.

Grabbing his hoodie and by pulling it up you urged him to raise his hands, to take it off. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt beneath it. Tight enough to show his slim body and wide shoulders. He didn’t give you much time to appreciate it. Both of his hands were on your neck and pulled you back to him. He was kissing you like crazy, with his tongue exploring your mouth, not giving you any moment to take a breath. One of his hands slid down your shoulder and was going down, until he found the hem of your T-shirt. You felt his fingers on your stomach, shyly first. He was tasting the waters, making sure you were ok with that. Shortly after his whole hand was holding you around your ribcage with his both hands. Circling his thumbs under your breasts, he was slowly moving them up after he found your nipples.

“I want to see them again.”, his voice was so low, you barely recognized it.

You whispered a soft “OK” to him and he moved his hands up. T-shirt hooked on his wrist moved up with them. He put it through your head and hooked it on your neck. He didn’t have to do more. He got what he wanted. When he was undressing you, you lifted your hips up and he made you stay that way. Your breasts were right in front of his face and without hesitation he attached his lips to one of them. He licked your nipple, making his tongue flat he slid it up and down, making you moan. He looked up to you, wanting to see your facial expression, wanting to see how much you enjoyed that. He pinched your second nipple which made you whine even louder and his cock even harder. He remembered those sounds, now even more vivid to him, when he wasn’t that drunk.

While still working your breast with his mouth, his hand moved down, across your thigh, slowly getting closer to your center. THe loose hem of the leg of your shorts gave him easy access to you. His fingers found your core, still covered with your cotton panties, circling it, trying to get inside. Moving them to the side he finally felt how wet you were.

“Oh fuck… baby, is this all for me?”

You felt a heat rushing through your body. His words made you flustered for some reason, like saying it made it even more real and undeniable. You didn’t know what to say so you blindly shifted your hand to his crotch and found his cock. You started to palm him through his pants, which made him groan. You felt his hot breath and tongue on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers found your clit and started to slowly move up and down. You made a noise which gave him the perfect confirmation he was doing a good job. Without any further delay you unzipped him and shoved your hand into his pants. He was already hard and precum was gathering on his tip. He slowed his movements when he felt your hand on him, a little unsure what your next move was. You slid his pants and boxer shorts down and freed him. His hard dick slapped into his stomach and you immediately grabbed it and started to pump him. Your hand was sliding on his soft skin, smearing the precum all over him. He started to breathe loud and move his hand on you again.

You were so wet, you felt it on your thighs. He was touching your clit, sometimes circling it, something sliding up down, left and right. One of his fingers slid inside of you, feeling no resistance. After that the second one joined him, making you stretch a little. You barely felt it. When he started to move them in and out of you, your hips joined them, copying his pace. You didn’t forget about this cock in your hand. He bucked up into your fist when you sped up. He wasn’t able to focus on your nipples anymore. His face landed between your breast, his hot breath made a drop of sweat gather right there. He was whispering sweet nothings to you, you didn’t even understand them.

You were already chasing your orgasm. The very well known feeling started to build in your stomach and you were desperate to feel it. His fingers were doing wonders on you, circling your clit in a steady pace. You moved your hips closer but his other hand grabbed your hip and held you. You leaned towards him, hid your face in his neck, kissing and sucking the skin. You were focusing on the pleasure he was giving you but still wanted to return the favour. You speed up the pace of your own hand, squeezing his dick hard and making him moan right into your ear. He was getting close like you. You focused on the tip, circling with your thumb on his slit, wanting to make him cum. He was starting to breath faster and louder, squeezing your hip, digging his fingers into your flesh.

Then you heard it. A loud noise, which snapped you from your bliss and made your high disappear in a blink of an eye. He’d heard it too. His hand between your legs froze, but still stayed in place.

“Was that… from Jimin’s room?”, you asked, completely confused.

Sweat on Namjoon’s face ran down his cheek and ended up on this neck. He was as confused as you were. He’d heard it too and had no idea what that was.

“I-I need to check that.”

When you moved to leave his lap, he whined and grabbed your hand. He didn’t want to stop, he was so close. His own hand was still in your panties, fingers wet with your arousal ready to get back to work and get you off. You were so tempted to go for it, ignore the noise and forget about everything. But you heard it again. This time you were certain it was from Jimin’s room. He probably woke up.

You had no other choice but to leave Namjoon’s hard dick alone and stand up. He didn’t like that idea but he finally let you go. His hand left your center and went straight to his mouth. He put his fingers inside and sucked them clean, while looking into your eyes the whole time. This time you whined loudly and cursed Jimin for this.

When you were on your legs again, you put your T-shirt down and went to your roommate’s room. Before you opened the door, you felt Namjoon behind you, his hand landed on your shoulders. You both got inside and discovered Jimin was nowhere to be found. His bed was empty,

“... da fuck…”

And for some reason, Jimin’s pants were on the floor. You had no memory of undressing him, or Namjoon doing that. Did he wake up and take them off? What for? And how? You both were shocked, until you went around the bed and found him on the floor. He was laying on his stomach, with one hand twisted in a very uncomfortable angle, wearing his T-shirt and boxer shorts. The plastic bowl you left for him was pushed away, but still empty.

You kneeled next to him, checking if he was okay. He was still breathing, but he left unconscious. Namjoon came to you and helped you to put him on his bed again. You rolled him on his back and covered him with a comforter. He was safe again, although you were really puzzled about what had just happened. You were pretty sure Jimin would not remember this, he was way too drunk, so there was no chance you’d find out anyway. You sighed, put the bowl back to its place and left the room, with Namjoon following you.

When both of you were outside, you quietly closed the door yet again. You felt Namjoon’s hand on you, how he grabbed you by your shoulder and turned you around to him. Your back hit the wall and his body was pressed into yours immediately, pushing air from your lunges. He grabbed your breast and squeezed it, pushing you even harder into the wall. His kiss was long and passionate but when he detached his lips he just stayed like that, looking at you through his lashes.

‘Why the hell do you have to be such a good kisser?”, he whispered into your lips.

You felt his boner on your stomach and reached out to touch him again. But he moved away. He kissed you one last time and took a step back. Still looking at you, took a deep breath and turned to the living room. Your mind was still hazy with the intense make out, so you didn’t follow him on the spot. But when you did, he wasn’t sitting on the couch but standing in front of the coffee table. He took his tea and started to drink. In one take, he finished it and put the empty mug back. After that he took his hoodie, walked past you, opened the door and left.

It was the second time he was leaving you like this.

------

“What came up?”, Jimin put a bag of tea in your mug and poured boiling water. You both smelled the scent of green tea. “I thought you’re free today.“

“I am. I-I just don’t want to leave the house tonight.”

“It’s barely noon. You can still change your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You started to rummage through another cabinet, looking for some cookies. But you couldn’t stop looking at your phone’s screen. Jimin was watching you and noticed how much you were distracted. No wonder you'd broken THE MUG.

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?”

Automatically you did it again. Unread messages’ thumbnails looked at you, asking why you hesitate to read their whole content.

With a loud crash you closed the cabinet, took your phone and headed to your room.

“I’m going to my room. I need to take care of this.”

Without any more explanation, you took your tea, left the kitchen and locked yourself in your room. When left alone, you took a deep breath and finally unlocked your phone.

Messages on your phone manifested in front of you and at the point you were certain you read them correctly at the first time.

Unknown [12:36]: You know, I’ve been thinking… We should drink some tea together again

Unknown [12:36]: I’d love to see what next is gonna happen with us in one room

Unknown [12:40]: It’s Namjoon btw

雀

#bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bangtan #bangtan smut #bangtan x reader #bangtan imagine #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin imagine

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imma-fucking-nerd · 4 years ago

Text

Promise Me

(Connor x Suicidal!Reader)

⚠️TW: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Drug/Alcohol Use, Mentions of Self Harm, Suicide Attempt⚠️

A/N: So as you can tell from the tw this one is going to be very dark and may be triggering for some readers. If you're going through a rough time and don't think you can handle reading depictions of these kinds of things PLEASE skip this one. I only feel comfortable writing about it because I've been living with depression and suicidal thoughts for a very long time, and writing comfort fics with my favourite fictional characters helps. Sorry for the long A/N I just want to make things clear and give a good warning.

————————————————

Your alarm clock blaring by you ears woke you up from your only escape from your reality, signalling it was 6am. Groaning, you lazily slapped the alarm off but made no attempt to get up. You knew you had work today but you just couldn't get yourself to stop staring up at the ceiling and into nothingness. What if you just didn't go in? Would anyone even notice? Would anyone even care?

No. No one cares. You're worthless.

And there it was. The voice in your head that sounded like your own yet betrayed you at every opportunity. Yet even so you couldn't help but believe it. After all, it was your thought wasn't it?

That's how it had always been.

Horrible words blending into your thoughts so seamlessly you managed to convince yourself they were normal. But no normal mind tried to tear itself down every time it was silent. That was the demon known as depression.

You've lived with this demon for as long as you've know. It was your normal. But recently it had been more and more frequent with it's hurtful words that spread through your mind like a deadly virus. The past couple of weeks had been especially difficult.

You tried everything you could to shift your mind to something else, anything else. You smoked pot, cigarettes, drank, you even slipped back into an especially dangerous copping mechanism. But none of those seemed to be enough. Every time they would come back. Your voice would spew venom at yourself in your own mind.

The only times you've managed to have any moment of peace was when you were asleep, or when you were with your only two friends. Hank, and Connor. You loved Hank, but it was Connors presence that really made you feel good. A feeling you longed to feel again every time he left. Was it just a silly crush? Or were you madly in love with him? Did it matter?

He would never love you back anyway.

Of all the thoughts that one might have hurt the most, because you knew it was actually true. He couldn't love you. He was, as he put it, 'a machine, designed to accomplish a task.' Therefore, it was a hopeless battle to think anything could come of it. Yet you still had hope. Maybe because you needed to have it to survive. Because if you didn't have that little hope, you might as well been dead.

It wasn't like you didn't have your reasons to hope, or maybe you really were that desperate. Connor was always so sweet to you, but then again e was sweet to everyone. Except Gavin. He would always get you a cup of hot chocolate in the mornings because you don't like coffee. Connor definitely didn't do that for anyone else. He does get Hank coffee in the mornings too. Then there was the fact you were one of the two people he talked to the most, aside from his detective work. Maybe he just pities you because he knows how fragile you are.

So, as you laid there staring up at the cieling, you decided to test that hope once and for all. See if there was anything to be hopeful about at all, or if he really was a machine who wouldn't love you the same way you loved him. You decided you weren't going to go to work that day, and you weren't going to call in either. If anyone were worried about you, if anyone even cared about you at all, they would check up on you, right?

Not if they don't even notice in the first place.

Hour after hour went by. No calls. At first you figured that it was still early and they probably just thought you were late. But you were never late, why would they think that? Aren't they worried? Not if they never cared to begin with.

At around 9am you couldn't take the overthinking anymore and just went back to sleep. You couldn't think if you weren't conscious. A little secret you learned in the game that is living. Sleeping was the best way to just escape. Especially if you were dreaming. That was the best part. Mostly because your dreams were the only place you could feel Connors arms around you, and his lips on yours.

When you woke up again it was 5 o'clock in the evening. However you didn't accomplish an impressive 8 hours of sleep uninterrupted. No, during that time you woke up just for a minute or two before going back to sleep at least a dozen times. That's usually how you slept most days. It almost felt weird when you sleep a long duration uninterrupted.

Glancing over at your phone, your heart dropped when you saw 0 notifications. Well, not including ones you got from youtube. You turned your phone off and tossed it onto a pile of clothes in the corner of your room.

Maybe they were just having a busy day and didn't notice you weren't there.

There was no way Connor wouldn't notice. He notices everything.

What you didn't know was that Connor was in fact not aware you weren't at the prescinct, but that was because he wasn't at the prescinct either. Connor and Hank had been called in to do a high stakes stakeout to bust a person who had been stealing and selling Cyberlife memorabilia illegally. They had to leave at around 4 am, way before you had to be at work. The entire time Connor was disappointed he'd have to break his streak of greeting one of his favourite people every day.

Truth was, Connor had grown quite attached to you. Despite the fact that he wasn't technically supposed to have any favorites. You were just so different from anyone else he had met. You were the first, and maybe only, human that actually referred to him as a friend. Or even treated him with a shred of decency in general. It made him feel....nice. You made him feel.

So, when the duo arrived at the office finally at around 4pm he noticed the lack of your presence immediately. He asked around the prescinct if anyone had seen you today and all of them, well the ones that actually talked to him, said they hadn't. He even went so far as to ask Fowler if you had called in only to be met with the same answer. Now he knew that was odd, that something was wrong.

He tried to call you when he was finished Hanks reports for him so the poor man could take a nap but you didn't answer your phone. Now he felt worried. A fact that only worried him more. However before he had the chance to go to your place to see if you were alright, he and Hank were needed to defuse a hostage situation at 6 pm. Of course, he immediately made his new mission his top priority, but every so often you would slip back into his mind.

It was currently 9 and you had managed to drag yourself from your bed to take care of your business in the bathroom a couple times since you had woken up. Everytime avoiding looking at your pathetic self in the mirror. But you would always go crawling back to the comfort of your bed. You didn't even leave your room yet. Not even to get anything to eat. It's not like you didn't want to, but whenever you thought about eating that damned voice in your head always ruined your appetite. So you just kept your eyes glued to your laptop as you laid buried under your blankets. YouTube was always a good distraction. That was until now.

Now that you glanced at the clock you were reminded of the fact that the work day had been over for you hours ago. The fact that no one seemed to care that you weren't there. You didn't even want to look at your phone. You already knew there weren't any missed calls or texts from anyone. No one cared enough.

If only you had actually looked, you would have seen how wrong you were. How wrong it was.

It was at 11pm when it was all just too much for you. Youtube wasn't doing its job in distracting you anymore and the thoughts just kept getting more and more persistent. The worst part was, you didn't even have the energy to fight them anymore. At this point, to you, they all just seemed to be facts. Like you were trying to get yourself to see the truth.

You weren't wanted.

You weren't needed.

You weren't missed.

You should just die.

You believed them.

Closing your laptop, you sat up in bed, letting your legs dangle off the side of the mattress. You looked down at your feet blankly. You couldn't even bring yourself to cry, you just felt numb as you prepared yourself for what you were about to do. Slowly, you got up and went to your bathroom. Once you were inside you made sure to avoid your own ruthless stare in the mirror.

You walked over to the bathtub and turned the nob of the faucet before sticking in the drain plug, not particularly caring about the temperature of the water. You weren't going to be using it for long anyways. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub you rolled up the sleeves of your hoodie and looked over your arms as you waited for the tub to fill. They were littered with many scars of many different ages. The oldest being more than a decade old, and the newest being only a mere few hours. You grabbed the razor from the sink and turned it over in your fingers. These next couple ones would be more permanent.

knock

The sound at your door didn't seem to reach your ears and were only met by silence. This caused Connor's LED to flicker into a pale yellow. Why weren't you answering? Were you harmed? The android tried knocking again, even calling out your name, but was met with nothing once more. He was just about to go and bust down your window like he had once done to Hank when said older man stopped him.

"Don't you even think about it," he said, pointing an accusatory finger at the android.

"But Lieutenant, (Y/n) might be-" Connor argued but was cut off when Hank held up the finger that was once pointing at him to signify 'one moment'.

Hank then bent down, with a little bit of a groan, before lifting up the corner of your welcome mat and plucking up a spare key. Once Hank stood back up with a huff, he shooed Connor away from the door before unlocking and opening it. Connor wasted no time cutting Hank off from the entrance and stepping inside.

Immediately upon entering Connor noted the complete darkness, but that didn't really matter much to him. Through the darkness he knew you weren't in the livingroom or kitchen, a fact made clearer when Hank flicked on the lights. However Connor also noted that there seemed to be no traces of a break-in or a struggle at all. At least not the definition of a struggle he was familiar with.

"(Y/n)?" he called out.

Silence

Connor moved through your home to where he assumed your bedroom. This was the first time he had entered your humble abode and under different circumstances he would've taken more time to investigate the surroundings. Get to know you a bit better. But right now that could wait until he was sure you were okay. He didn't know why it even seemed to be a priority but he couldn't just ignore it any longer.

Your room was just as dark as the rest of the house and also completely lacked your form. The only thing illuminating the room was the light coming from the bathroom which had it's door wide open. Before Hank could stop and scold him about the importance of privacy, Connor made a beeline towards the bathroom.

The sight that he had walked into made his LED flash a dangerous red and eyes widen. You were laying in your bathtub. Fully clothed. Water tinted pink. Your dangerously pale face. However it wasn't those small details that caused the android to suddenly rush over to your side. It was the two long gashes on both of your wrists. Upon scanning you he found that you had lost a lot of blood, but you were still alive. Barely, but he could work with that.

"Connor what the fuck are you- Jesus christ," Hank cut himself off once he saw for himself what was going on.

"Call an ambulance Lieutenant. (Y/n), (Y/n) can you hear me?" Connor managed to keep his voice calm and steady, a feat that took more effort than he would have liked.

The sound of Connor's voice, and feeling you body shift as he gently lifted you out of the cold water made your eyes gently flutter open. Your dulling (e/c) met with his worry written coffee brown ones.

"Connor...?" you called out weakly.

Despite the fact your vision was blurred from a mix of blood loss and building tears, you could recognize his form immediately. What you weren't sure of however was that if it was just a trick of the mond or not. A sense of comfort in your dying seconds.

"Yes (Y/n), it's me. I'm here, you're going to be okay," he said in the most reassuring tone he could muster.

As he spoke he took off his jacket and gently tied it around your left arm while doing the same with a towel for your right. Guilt and regret ate at you from the inside as you silently watched him, his LED still very red and blinking every so often. Hell you could even see the worry on his perfect features. Before you knew it tears started brimming your eyes before large droplets rolled down your pale cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice cracking as your fragile body wracked with soft sobs.

Connor froze when he heard your little voice but it didn't take him another moment to hold you close to his chest.

"It's- It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay (Y/n), I promise," Connors words were soft and confident, you almost believed him.

You heard what you thought was Hank's voice speak but you couldn't quite register what he said. It was becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. As if your eyelids suddenly weighed a million pounds. You shifted further into Connor and you barely heard him speak but the whole world seemed to be fading. Soon enough you closed your eyes and couldn't seem to open them again.

At least, not for several hours. When you did eventually flutter your eyes open again you were mixed with confusion, and then relief. You knew by the pristine white of everything, along with the abundance of machines you were hooked up to that you were in a hospital. As the memories of the previous night came flooding back your eyes dropped down to your newly bandaged arms, and an IV transferring blood into your system. Like last night, a deep sense of guilt, regret, and shame squeezed at your heart.

When your eyes wandered to your left you flinched slightly when you saw Connor standing next to the bed. His eyes were closed and his LED was gently flickering amber, you assumed he was in sleep mode. However as you jolted slightly at his presence, the sudden movement was enough to alert him back awake. His eyes fluttered open and were now on you, seemingly softening a tad the moment he registered it was you. Your eyes only met for a second before you shifted your gaze down to your hands. The guilt and shame made your eyes sting as tears threatened to form in full.

"How are you feeling, (Y/n)?" Connor asked, breaking the silence.

There was a certain sincerity you've never heard from him when he spoke. It made you heart clench but you weren't sure if it was in a good or bad way.

"I'm okay," you said, your voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Good, I'm glad," he replied.

There was another long silence between you two. The only thing keeping the room from being dead silent being the steady beeping and whirring of various machines. This time it was you who spoke up first.

"I'm s-sorry," you croaked.

Your voice was somehow quieter than before and it cracked near the end as your throat tightened up. You were trying desperately to hold back the tears but to no avail. Large teardrops fell from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

"I'm so so sorry," you continued, your body being wracked with heavy sobs.

Connor just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do for a brief moment. His LED went from blue, to golden, and flickered a dangerous red before settling back to golden. Suddenly, he reached out to grasp your hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, and it captured your attention immediately.

Honestly, he didn't know why he did it. But the sight of your fragile and vulnerable form made his biocomonants feel like they were being crushed. Much like how he felt when he first saw you last night. Except it wasn't nearly as bad. Last bight he felt like someone ripped out his therium pump altogether.

That alone made him confused as to why he felt anything to begin with. It was a question he had been asking himself for a while. At least almost as long as he'd met you. He'd run a million diagnostics on himself and they'd always come back with everything working smoothly. Even after last night. It baffled him.

However at this moment, when you looked up at him with your big, glossy (e/c) eyes, he ceased to think about it. All that mattered right now was you. That was all the information he needed.

"You don't need to be sorry," he said softly.

You intertwined your fingers with his and practically held onto him for dear life. Connor noted how your stress levels seemed to go down at his touch, so he decided to take a seat next to you at the edge of the bed. Once you realized what he was doing you scoot over slightly to make more room.

"Everything is alright, just take deep breaths. Can you do that for me?" he asked soothingly, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You nodded and closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but taking deep breaths. Well, that wasn't the only thing you were focused on. You were also focused on Connors fingers that were laced with yours. It really did help. After what felt like hours, your breath seemed to finally stabilize, and so did Connor's LED, settling on a calm blue.

"May I ask you something (Y/n)?" Connor inquired, a question you heard him ask often.

You opened your eyes and looked up to him. You didn't respond right away, knowing exactly what it was he was going to ask, and you dreaded having to answer it. But eventually, after a few moments of him patiently watching you with those warm chocolate eyes, you slowly nodded.

"Why did you do it?"

His voice was softer than ever, and confusion was written all over your face as he tried to understand. You had to look away from him before you broke down again. A soft sight escaped you and he gave your hand a little reassuring squeeze. You knew you had to tell him, so you took a deep breath before speaking.

"I.... I felt worthless. Like nobody cared if I was gone," you spoke slowly, avoiding Connor's eyes at all cost.

"I stayed home today to see if anyone would care if I wasn't there. No one called. I thought that meant I was right. That I didn't mean anything to anyone. That I was a waste of space. That I should just.....just die," you continued, surprised at yourself at how you were able to keep it together.

Connor listened, his LED whirring golden as he processed the information. He then waited for a moment or two before responding. Wanting to be absolutely sure you were finished before he spoke.

"I assure you that I was aware you were missing as soon as I returned to the prescinct. I regret that I wasn't able to bring you your morning hot chocolate," Connor smiled slightly as he spoke, but it soon dropped along with his gaze before he continued.

"But what I regret more was that I wasn't fast enough to stop you. I'm sorry (Y/n)," the sorrow he held in his voice, and the flucking of his now amber LED made you squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"Connor, if it weren't for you I'd be dead. You saved me. You have nothing to be sorry for," you offered him a weak smile once his eyes returned to you.

Connor returned the smile. It was awkward but it wasn't forced, and it was adorable. His LED returned to sky blue, his chocolatey brown hues glancing down at your intertwined fingers. He gently stroked your knuckles with his thumb, the small action making heat rise up into your cheeks. For the first time since you had been awake, there was a comfortable silence for a few moments before Connor spoke up.

"(Y/n), can you promise me something?" his eyes flicked up to meet yours as he spoke.

"What is it?" you replied, subconsciously tilting your own head.

A habit you picked up from the adorable android.

"Promise me you won't try to take your life again?"

"I promise. But can you promise me something?" you implored.

"As long as it's within my capabilities, I'll try," he said sincerely.

"Promise me you won't forget about me."

"I think I can manage that," he said with a little playful smile before adding,

"I promise."

———————————————

A/N: OOF sorry if the end was kinda ass. And also sorry its so mf long. ALSO sorry its kinda dark. Hope y'all enjoyed anywayss 💙

#dbh fanfic #dbh #detroit #detroit become human #connor x reader #connor rk800 #dbh x reader #rk800 #detroit rk800 #connor rk800 x reader

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lilithpooped · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Let It Break Your Heart - Kim Hongjoong

Genre : Angst-Fluff but sad?

Request: yes (by anon)

Requested song : Don’t Let It Break Your Heart by Louis Tomlinson

A/n: I honestly am not sure how this is but please be honest with me if you don’t like it,, I’ll make sure to write a new one!!! I’m open to criticism anytime! And SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT SO LONG.......

He kept looking at the screen in front of him.

“... rejected.”

Rejected... He had no idea how a simple word like this hurt so bad. It was all he dreamt of ever since he knew himself. He started to work for it when he was 8. Eight.. Such a young age for someone to be that determined. He knew he wanted to learn from the best musicians out there. He thought he could make it. He thought if he worked hard it would all have been okay.

That’s not how life works apparently.

He shut down the laptop angrily and sat there, staring out the window.

——

You woke up with a heavy feeling in your chest. Trying to remember why, all the memories of last night came back to you suddenly.

——

You were with your boyfriend, trying to get him eat something. He was nervous. Well, that was understandable. Tomorrow morning the results of the application exam would be published. The exam he worked so hard for.. To be honest with yourself, you didn’t want him to go even though you wanted him to get accepted. Being accepted meant he would be in another country for 4 years at least. You wished there was a way for you to stay together.

“Babe, I think you should eat something. You keep shaking your legs and I don’t think this helps...”

“No, I don’t want to. I’m not hungry.” He said, absentmindedly.

“Hongjoong, come on. Let’s order pizza and watch a movie? Huh? Would that be okay, love?” You insisted.

“I said I don’t want to”

“What’s on your mind? Why are you so zoned out? I get that you’re nervous but can’t you at least try to forget about it for a while? You’ll-“

“Forget about it? FORGET ABOUT IT? Y/n, haven’t you listened to me at all for all these years?! How can I forget about it? Do you think it’s easy for me to just wait? I bet it’s very easy for you to say ‘forget about it’. Can’t you be more understanding? I said I don’t wanna eat! I don’t wanna do anything, okay? I just wanna wait and that’s what I will do. I’m sure you can eat your pizza in your own place if you’re gonna be like this! You’re getting on my nerves right now!”

For a second you couldn’t proceed what he said.

“Do you want me to go?” You said, not hiding the hurt in your voice.

“Yes. I do.” He said. No emotions except annoyence shows on his face.

“Okay.” Your voice was barely audible. You turned and walked through the door.

Honestly, you would be mad if he was like this for nothing. But even though you were really hurt by his voice and manner, you knew he was just nervous and you were asking too much questions. So deciding on letting it go, you turned back to your home.

——

He didn’t call you last night. Not before you fall asleep with the phone in your hand, at least. Where was your phone now? What time was it? ‘He should’ve gotten his results by now.’ You thought.

After searching for it for almost half an hour, you found your phone under the drawer next to your bed. You took it into your hand and tapped on it, trying to get a reaction but your efforts were meaningless since it was off due to dead battery.

Great, now you weren’t able to see if Hongjoong ever called you or texted you until you charge it back. Attaching the charger to your phone, you went to the bathroom to wash your face and maybe try to look more like a decent human being. Eyes looking back at you from the mirror seemed tired and swollen. Tough night, huh?

After talking to yourself in the mirror for who knows how long, you turned back to your room and took your phone in your hand.

23 missed calls

12 messages

All from Hongjoong. You felt a lump in your throat. He must have been worried by now, you thought. Deciding to read the messages before calling him back, you sat on your bed and looked at your phone.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean those words, I was just nervous.”

“I’m so sorry, please let me explain myself.”

“I’m just very nervous, i hate waiting”

“I shouldn’t have told you all those things. Can you answer your phone?”

“Please y/n”

“Y/n, please answer my calls”

“Y/n, I’m worried.”

“Why did you turn your phone off?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry”

“Your phone’s off, my messages are not sent”

“Babe isn’t it a bit too long for your phone to stay off?”

“Y/n, call me as soon as possible, I’m very worried”

Last message was sent half an hour ago. Wait, what time was it? 6am. Did he even sleep at all? You called him back.

“Y/N!!” He yelled.

“Hongjoong,, I’m so sorry I fell asleep and my phone died so I just saw your messages-“

“It’s okay, you’re okay right? I’m sorry about all those words i said to you last night-“

“It’s okay-“

“I really didn’t mean any of them I’m so sorry!-“

“It’s okay, really! Tell me did you get your results?”

Silence... You heard him take a deep breathe and clear his throat. Then he spoke.

“Yes.” He sounded so thoughtful and so lost that you knew the result even before he had to tell you anything.

“Oh... Do you want me to come to your place baby? Maybe we could cuddle and watch a movie together?”

“I.. I actually wanna be alone for a while if you don’t mind.” He said, more like he asked, in a vulnerable tone.

“Of course I don’t mind! I love you, baby. Can I just say a few things before we hang up?”

“Yes.”

“I can feel how disappointed you are in yourself but please remember, these things happen. Okay? And that doesn’t mean you’re not good. That doesn’t mean you are not enough. Life has a way of it’s own and we might not understand it immediately but everything works for the best so please don’t let this break your heart or courage. Okay, love? I believe in you and I’m not even one bit disappointed in you. I’m proud of you, you worked so hard and did so well. You did your best and I’m proud of you. Always have been and will always be. I love you. Don’t be hard on yourself, okay?”

“M-hm” he mumbled. All the stress and tiredness came down on him at that moment, after hearing your words. Your support made him feel like you were a pillow he could put his head on and cry to his heart’s content. You could hear it in the way he breathes that he was holding that cries in. He was tired. He was exhausted. He was disappointed. You felt your heart wrench in your chest.

“I love you. Call me whenever you need, or want. I’m here for you, okay?” You said. And you meant every single word of it. You wanted him to be okay. Even though that was the hardest thing for him at that moment. You wanted him to know you would always be there for him. You wanted to make him sure.

“Thank you.” He whispered. “I love you, too.”

He was sure. Even though it was hard thinking about anything else than failure at that exact moment, he was sure.

#asks #hongjoong angst #hongjoong fluff #ateez #kpop #ateez fics #kpop fics #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop requests

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xellandria · 5 years ago

Text

tw: death

My father died sometime last night. My mom woke me up at around 4:20 (blaze it?), after she found him, ran around in a panic for a bit (her words), and called 911. I’d only gone to sleep a couple hours earlier, and neither of us had checked on him until then (he went to bed much earlier than the two of us ever do) so it’s hard to say when it would have happened; we might learn more later, or we might not. I’m not actually sure how much more information we’ll get—or want, really—when whatever examination happens happens, or if there will be an examination/autopsy/whatever. All I know about that kind of thing comes from media, and it’s always convenient for media to have an autopsy.

About nine months ago, he was out on a hike and slid down some scree and hurt his back in some way. Prior to the whole pandemic, he’d been going through all sorts of various treatments and tests to figure out what was wrong and how to fix it, but he’d been in pain for a while. Supposedly it was at least getting a little better with time—mom says he hadn’t taken his pain meds for the last fifteen days or so—but it was definitely there, and he hadn’t been exercising much (if at all) as a result, and gained a lot of weight from the inactivity.

About a week ago, he started coughing and having trouble breathing, and apparently was having issues sleeping as well. He called his doctor about it yesterday, and they had him go get tested for Covid. The results for that won’t be back til Mondayish, but it’s sort of a moot point now, I suppose. Well, partly moot—if he tested positive, mom and I definitely have to be a lot more nitpicky about our own health. We’ve not been going out except as absolutely necessary, but I can’t help thinking that we did go to Walmart and Costco on the 16th and while he was wearing a mask of some sort on that trip, his mask procedure was not the best and that was about a week ago. That’d be a little fast for Covid symptoms I think, but maybe?

I don’t know. I wasn’t hearing much about it (we’ve been on different tracks for the past week so I haven’t seen much of him) but when we were talking to various relatives about an hour ago, mom seemed to imply that it was a lot of trouble breathing—which makes me ask why he didn’t do something about it if it was really that bad, but that’s not something I can or should ask at this point; I can’t ask him and giving her more to agonize about or regret is absolutely pointless (I still beat myself up on bad days for not being sterner about getting Emmett to a vet when I knew he wasn’t fully right, and he died like five or six years ago at this point; I absolutely do not want to inflict that kind of thing on my mother about her husband, for god’s sake, and I didn’t push harder for my own health and safety when I was having heart issues last year until I finally caved and went to the ER; I could have made that trip a lot sooner too instead of fucking around with my doctor half-ignoring me and limply running tests for six months).

Because it’s just me and mom out here on this coast, we’re probably not going to have a funeral. Things would probably be different if we weren’t in the middle of a pandemic (his sisters might want something, I don’t think we thought to ask), but they can’t come out here and we can’t go over there and neither of us really want to deal with it. She knew his preferences (at least for disposal—he wanted to be cremated) so we’ve got that under control, at least.

I’m sure it’s partly shock, but I definitely feel guilty as hell that I’m glad that the pandemic is giving us a good excuse to not have a funeral. Maybe he would have wanted one? I don’t know. I know my own preferences (only if my survivors need it for themselves; I don’t believe in ghosts or anything like that, but the idea of death and corpses and such spooks me something awful and funerals and burials and such are obviously the worst for that) and mom was the one who said no when I asked her if she wanted one (though maybe I should ask again when we’re both less shocky). If the dead do exist beyond death in some capacity, I hope he understands that it’s not that we don’t love him... but that’s a lot of money and time and mental energy for a lot of pomp and circumstance that doesn’t make... well, I was going to say “doesn’t make anybody feel better” but someone must get comfort from that kind of thing, even if I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who has.

There’s a lot of unknowns right now. Dad was the one who handled all the household finances and I know he never went over it all with me, and I got the impression that he and mom never got around to it either (though we both mentioned that it was something we’d been thinking about, it’s obviously too late now). Mom’s worried about the taxes, and what bills are on auto-pay and all that, and it’s going to be a nightmare to go through his computer and phone and make sure all that stuff is handled... but that’s not today’s worry. I mean, I almost wish it was—it’d give me something to do now that we’re done talking to the EMTs and the police and the people from the funeral home and calling the relatives (and before I work up the nerve to call his old work friend, who is the only other person I can think of that deserves to know), but it’s also not something to walk into with two hours of sleep and a broad-but-vague understanding of how to access the data, but not what to do with it.

I haven’t cried yet, and I feel guilty about that too (though again, I’m putting it down to shock). Cat death/injury is so triggering to me that I burst into tears nearly at the mention/thought of it, but my own father is gone and I’m just sitting at my computer, typing out a lengthy essay about how I want to consider myself a piece of shit for it, but I know it’s all part of the process, etc. etc. I remember when my parents woke me up to tell me my maternal grandmother had died, I definitely cried then (and was angry) so I know it’s possible for me to feel things, or was at one point. I’m sure the depression isn’t helping (and the fact that I think my med dosage may not be good enough anymore).

I’m sort of glad for the pandemic too, for the social distancing and masks that all the strangers that came to our home at 4-6am were wearing because I haven’t taken a shower in a couple days and I am disgusting and unshaved, but hopefully they didn’t notice. At least they didn’t comment on it in my hearing, so I can maybe hopefully pretend.

Anyway. I’m currently distracting myself by writing this out, but there’s not much more I want to say at this point. I’ve posted out of my guild’s raids indefinitely for the moment (it was the first thing I did after I got out of bed while we were waiting for the EMT, and the second was tweet about it; my priorities are so fucked, y’all). I don’t really know whether I’ll be able to stay on top of D&D—it’s only once a week, it’s a much smaller group of people who are much less likely to make some sort of unthinking or triggering remark (frankly, the idea of listening to my guild leader and some of the non-raiders talk about their jobs as doctors/upcoming medical practitioners is absolutely not what I need in my life right now, and I can’t tell 19+ other people to watch every word that comes out of their mouths or from their fingers above and beyond the guild rules because it might make the baby cry (or tilt her off the face of the earth)... but I can probably get away with asking only four other people to do that) and it’s not like we’re doing much where there might be schedule conflicts. I’m gonna have to tell them for sure (well, Naha knows cos he follows me on twitter, and Kattii might cos she also follows me but I’m not sure if she keeps up with her timeline, but I don’t think the others do). I should definitely not isolate myself entirely—I don’t know a lot right now, but I know that’s a real bad idea no matter how depressed I was before this happened—so I may keep the D&D up.

I’m not sure if I should go to the Sunday Jaina runs or not, since I won’t really be part of the prog team and shouldn’t take mounts out of the mouths of people who will actually be around. I already felt kinda guilty about going to last week’s when I’d posted out of raid for mental health reasons (and had missed the week before’s entirely for same). I dunno. I’ve got a day and change to think about that one, and what I want to do with myself.

Oh, and M+ is a thing too isn’t it, fuck me. I dunno. If I do Jaina and I do D&D, I should probably at least do the M+ too; it’s only one or two runs a week even if it has been stressful because we’ve been scrambling for a filler every week for a few months now (Intol’s been wrapped up in the whole pandemic thing on his side of life, and none of us have had the time or energy to find a consistent/reliable filler until he’s ready to come back). At least I have a good excuse to not be the one scrambling for that weekly filler anymore, eh? lol :T That’s also a small group size so that should be all right. Jaina will be touchy for the larger group size reason too actually, now that I think about it (although I can probably get away with not being on discord for most of the run).

I dunno. I’m rambling now, and now I’m also rambling at Naha in DMs so maybe I should stop rambling in at least one location.

#xellafail #tw: death #just in case you needed a second trigger warning #god today's a day and it's only been five hours #actually five hours is a lot more than I thought it was gonna be #so there's that I guess lol

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tilwecrashandburn · 4 years ago

Text

Trapped in a Shattered Mirror

I am writing this, so that through all the manipulation and false realities, I never forget who you really are. So that I never forget what you put me through.

I was in a pretty serious relationship. For the sake of anonymity, I will refer to my former lover as Mariah. Mariah and I were college sweethearts (I know, I should have known we were doomed from the start with just that single piece of information alone). To the point of this story, we had been dating consistently from 2014-2018. Although we had our fair share of issues before then, 2018 is where the craziness elevated and that is the year in which this story takes place.

I was a school year ahead of Mariah in a relatively small, party-centric university in Ohio. That is where we met. There were warning signs early on that I ignored. For one, she had a whole secret, unclaimed boyfriend who she ended up leaving to be with me. For two, she flirtatiously entertained every man who would acknowledge her to the point where it seriously made me question the entire relationship.

I graduated in 2017 and headed off to graduate school in another university about an hour way. Mariah still had one more year left at our alma mater. At first things were cool, but everything started changing during the spring semester.

Mariah and I began growing apart. I was struggling with grad school. It was one of the hardest times of my life and I felt completely alone. Mariah was living her best life as she celebrated her last year of undergrad. She was coming into herself and I encouraged it. She was an absolutely beautiful woman with an amazing personality and the world began noticing. But it quickly went to her head.

As the distance between us grew, arguments became more frequent. Mariah was engaging with other men via social media but ignoring me. She began texting another man at the university at the beginning of that semester. I will refer to him as Marcus. I first discovered her communication with Marcus during the winter break heading into spring semester. The were talking on snapchat but he was in the process of pledging so none of it made sense to me. I confronted her about it and she assured me that it was nothing. To my ignorance, they continued talking for the rest of that semester but she would hide it from me. Only her and her friends were aware of what was happening. I would see snaps and videos of Mariah and Marcus hanging together. I confronted her about it but she reassured me that they were only friends and that she had learned her boundaries in regards entertaining other men. She explicitly told me that she was not sexual attracted to Marcus at all and that I had nothing to worry about.

Spring break came. Mariah and I decided to take a trip together to a new city. The trip was nice and it felt like we were making some sort of progress. I didn’t know that I had already lost her at this point. After spring break, the distance between us continued to grow. It was now April. Although we weren’t on the best terms, we were still together and we still looked out for one another. She was struggling financially that month and asked for me to pay her rent for April. She’s never made such a request before so I took care of it and paid her rent. I then came down to visit but we didn’t talk much. I could tell she was feeling herself and I knew something was up. At this point she was still entertaining Marcus behind my back. She hung with her friends that weekend and I hung with mine. She then got mad at me for being distant during the visit. She had no right, all things considering.

I went back to my grad school that Sunday. By Sunday night, Mariah and Marcus were at a private party and he was caressing her legs and butt and putting his hands up her skirt. She allowed him to do so and expressed how it was turning her on when they were texting about it later. I discovered this information because I read the texts that were deleted from her phone but still on the Apple Watch I bought for her.

That week in April, we didn’t talk at all. But Mariah and Marcus began kicking it heavier. He was coming to spend the night with her about everyday and they were talking consistently. They would send sexual messages during the day and he would sleep in her bed at night. All of this was happening during the month I paid her rent. Once the week had passed without us talking, I felt very uneasy. I knew something was up. The weekend was upon us. I sent her a message of a song to express how I was feeling. She gave me a dry reply. I decided to drive down to her school and see what was up.

I made it to her apartment but she wasn’t there. It was nighttime at this point, maybe about 2am. I decided to check her favorite after-party diner. As I stood on the street, I saw her car pull up to the diner. She didn’t see me. But I saw her and Marcus exit the car and go into the diner together. My heart dropped to my feet. I was furious. I texted her to ask where she was. She sent back the “eyes” emoji and dodged the question. I waited. Her and Marcus left the diner. I thought maybe she would just drop him off somewhere and return home with her roommates. That was a foolish thought that I didn’t really believe. I rushed to her apartment. She still wasn’t there. It was at least 3am at this point. I went up to her window but heard nothing. As I turned to head back to my car, Mariah and Marcus crossed my path. The were too deep in laughter and conversation to realize I was there until it was too late.

I tried to keep my composure as I asked what the hell was going on. She tried to defuse the situation and told me nothing was happening. She told me her and Marcus were just heading into her apartment to play games and chill with her roommates and friends. However, her roommates and friends were either sleep or not around. She tried to hug me and I pushed her away. Marcus then became angry and tried to fight me. Mariah stopped us from fighting. I felt like she was defending him. She told him to leave and he angrily stomped off.

We entered her apartment and went into her bedroom. I was still heated and questioning her. She was telling me that nothing happened and that I was overreacting. She once again expressed that she was not sexually attracted to Marcus and that she would never do that to me. A part of me believed her. Another part of me didn’t but I had nothing concrete to go off of. I stayed the night in her bed. I woke up early before Mariah did and that is when I went through her phone. I found nothing. Everything was deleted. I then grabbed the Apple Watch and went to my car. It had to be about 6am. I sat in my car for about an hour, reading the lengthy text thread between her and Marcus. That is where I saw all the sexual messages back and forth. That is how I figured out that he had been staying with her that entire week. That is how I confirmed that she was a liar. I felt as if a blackhole was inside my chest, swallowing me into the emptiness.

I then went back to her room and woke her up calmly. I asked her to tell me the truth. She hesitated. I asked her if her and Marcus had sex. She wouldn’t talk but I knew the truth at this point and she could probably hear it in my voice. She eventually admitted to having sex with Marcus the night before I came down (Friday night - it was now Sunday morning). They had sex in her bed. She cheated on me in her apartment during a month when I paid her rent. She allowed me to sleep in the very same spot that they had just had sex, no more than 24 hours prior to this conversation, on the same unwashed sheets. They had unprotected sex and she even gave him head. I was disgusted and outraged. My sense of calmness was gone. She wasn’t even apologetic. She was cold and dry. She blamed me and compared me to Marcus. She said Marcus was so happy-go-lucky and that I was a depressing factor in her life. She made a negative comment about how I wasn’t living up to the stature of my dead father. She broke me. I sat there lost.

I knew Marcus and Marcus knew me. I tried to explain to her that he was not the perfect man that she tried to portray him to be. He was a woman user and she was just another name on the list. She didn’t listen. She didn’t care.

I stayed for the next day or two. Marcus was still hitting her up but she was ignoring him. I told her to block him on everything but she wouldn’t, no matter how much I begged and pleaded. She couldn’t even do that for me. I asked her to stop seeing him and told her that I wanted to work on us. She assured me that she was done with Marcus and would try to make things work with me.

Eventually I returned to my grad school. Mariah and I began talking more but something was still off. She was still talking to Marcus behind my back. She was still seeing him everyday. She went over his place a few days later and they had sex again. I would come down to visit, and he would come over to her place as soon as I left. I tried to cut her off but she then drove to see me, crying and begging for me to be with her. We would argue and she would held back down to her school to be with Marcus, although she was telling me that they were no longer a thing. She would talk about how she was disgusted to even look at him when they were out in public and that she was no longer speaking to him. That was just a lie to make me feel better. They were closer than ever. I could feel it. I was done at this point but its hard to completely throw away 3-4 years of your life. I was conflicted. I was alone and vulnerable. I didn’t know what to do.

And then it was time for Mariah’s graduation. It was now May. I expressed that I wasn’t going to come. She told me that if I didn’t come, she would never forgive me. I ended up coming. When I got to her apartment, the energy was off. I noticed she was wearing Marcus’s Nike slides but I didn’t say anything. I got drunk af that night. Marcus avoided me but was still hitting Mariah up to see where she was once the bars closed. I soon discovered that she still had not blocked him and that she was still talking to him and seeing him consistently. I confronted her, and she got mad at me for doing so. She said I was ruining things when she had it all under control. She told me her plan was to keep entertaining Marcus until she graduated because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I was furious that she was putting his feelings equal to or above mine. I expressed this to her but nothing changed. I was being gaslit.

Now that she had graduated, we were back in the same city. My grad school was in her hometown. However, she still had her old apartment for a few more months down at our alma mater. At this point I was in a depressed state. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to eat. Apparently, I was “bringing her down.” She wanted an escape and planned a trip to go back down to her school. I tried to convince her not to and suspected that she was only going down to see Marcus again. She assured me that she was not going to see Marcus. She then went back to her old apartment and hung out with Marcus and her friends as an escape from the miserable atmosphere that she left me sitting in back in her hometown. Broken can’t even begin to describe my state at this point. I had lost 20 pounds. I was taking some of the biggest finals of my life in-between full-blown crying sessions. I hated everything but still wanted to be with Mariah. I should have cut her off when I had the chance. I should have realized my worth sooner.

I feel like I forced her to stop talking to Marcus eventually. She never did so on her own accord. The apologies never felt real. The entire incident felt like it was swept under the rug and downplayed immensely. Things were toxic and I haven’t been happy since.

A couple years later, he got outed as a sexual predator on one of those MeToo pages. Multiple women came out to speak against the horrible things this man did to them. But the relationship between him and Mariah was completely voluntary and consensual. She cheated on me with him and put the desires of a sexual predator before me and my feelings. Her boyfriend of years. She praised this man so highly despite my warnings. She belittled, embarrassed, and ruined me and I feel horrible for sitting by and letting it happen. When the news came out about Marcus’s true character, Mariah tried to flip the story and play the victim. She was not the victim and I clearly recall her telling me multiple times how she was “using him” and he wasn’t using her. She was the predator in a sense. Maybe they belonged together.

I’ve never told anyone this story. But I didn’t want it to fade into the abyss with my dying memory. I needed to relive this story once more so that I can finally try to move passed it for-real. Mariah and I are still in communication, but at this point, I am realizing that we will never work out. The history is just too tainted and I still feel wronged. There are so many people in the world so I don’t understand why I should feel like I have to be with her. Why do I have to be with anyone? Whenever I try to leave, she guilts me back in. She will probably never understand the amount of pain she has put me through. I don’t even think she wants to try. And if I try to express it to her, she will only tell me about the pain that I have put her through. I feel like I’m trapped in a shattered mirror.

#love #heartbreak #cheating #depression #relationship #manipulative #life lessons #true story

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forestpines · 5 years ago

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A Death

(cw: death, hospitals, cancer)

So, it’s never a good sign when a hospital phones you at 2am, is it.

My dad was diagnosed with cancer a little bit over three years ago. No doubt it was growing inside him for a year or two before that, but three years ago was when it suddenly became symptomatic, when he woke up one morning to discover he was randomly bleeding from his nose and his mouth, because his blood had given up on the concept of clotting. Prostate cancer had already spread from his prostate through most of his skeleton, to the point that it was Definitely Not Curable. Manageable, though, so much so that he may well, they said, die of something else first.

At first when the phone rang, I thought it was my alarm. Then realised it was a landline number, from my old home town, some sort of switchboard number. I didn’t catch it before the phone stopped. Then, whoever it was immediately rang back a second time.

I’d last spoken to him a couple of weeks earlier, after he phoned to tell me that he’d been to his consultant again. That was that. Not worth taking any more chemotherapy. He was going to be keeping him on one of his current treatments: it might, if he was lucky, keep him alive until the end of the year. If it didn’t work, he probably had a few weeks left.

I answered the phone rather blearily, to a random woman with my old home town’s accent asking if it was me. I found I couldn’t really speak, because I had already guessed where she was calling from and why she was calling. “He’s very confused and very tachycardic. We think you should come to the hospital.”

My mum had phoned a few days earlier to tell me he’d been admitted. He was having trouble breathing, so they had rushed him in in an ambulance, on oxygen. His spleen was failing. “They said his spleen is dead,” in my mother’s words. Now, I know you can happily live without any spleen at all, if you have to have it pulled out for some reason, but when a cancer patient suddenly starts to have unconnected organs turn into big and entirely non-functional lumps of meat, you know it’s not going to be long before phrases like “multiple organ failure” make the rounds.

The hospital was four hours’ drive away. I sat down and had a cup of tea.

Driving through the night, I wondered quite how I was going to react. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad show any sort of emotion of any sort. The day of his mother’s funeral, or any of the days leading up to it that I was home for, he didn’t cry a single tear. After the funeral we went home for lunch, then went out to buy a new camera. I tell a lie: he could get angry, he could shout, he could withdraw into a fuming silent rage. I’ve never seen him be sad, though, or show any kind of tender emotion. The roads were quiet, at first, and I had plenty of time to think about it. By 6am I was overtaking long lines of trucks heading to the North Sea ports, all of us still over half an hour away from our destinations, and I was driving towards a faint smear of dirty orange dawn light. By the time I reached the hospital, worked out where to park, it was just about dawn.

Of course, being half asleep when I’d answered the phone, I hadn’t actually thought to ask where in the hospital he was. It’s a big place, although strangely smaller than it felt when I had to go there to have my teeth sorted as a child, but the oncology ward was a very, very long walk from the entrance. When I reached the doors I had to ring a few times before a nurse came to the door to let me in; and then they hadn’t heard of him.

“Is he in A&E?”

“No, he’s an Oncology patient, and he was admitted on Sunday.”

She kindly led me to the nurses’ station and sat down at the computer, working down the list of wards until I spotted his name. And then another long walk, almost all the way back to the entrance and round another long set of stairs and corridors. I glided through the ward doors behind a nurse coming onto shift (hospitals are generally terrible at security) and found the nurses’ station. “Someone phoned about my father; he’s dangerously ill,” I said; they didn’t really need to ask who I was. “Oh!” they said instead, “you drove all that way straight here!”

He was in an isolation room at the far end of the ward. Not covered in tubes and probes as you might expect, other than an oxygen tube to his nose. He was almost naked, seemed to have thrown all the covers off the bed. Pale, almost hairless save a whiskery patch on each side of his chin, as if hairs had poured down from the corners of his mouth. He laid awkwardly, but he was awake, mumbling. My mother was there, and one of my uncles. I have a pair of uncles who are identical twins, and now I only see them occasionally every few years, it can be hard to work out which is which. I mentally started thinking to myself to avoid saying anything which might imply I thought I knew which uncle it was.

Dad’s eyes were dull, but he looked at me, and said something to me. “See, I said he would come to see you,” said my mother. He mumbled. Even unintelligible, he still had the same patterns of speech. He fumbled, moving his legs, trying to slip one out of the bed.

“Lie down and rest,” I said, like dealing with a sick child.

Mumbling: something about getting up. His breathing was forced, gasping, but strong and regular.

“No, you need to rest. You’re better here.” His skin was speckled with strange, fresh moles, some of them gory red lumps, like overactive birthmarks, standing proud from the skin by a quarter-inch or so. He was covered in bruises, including a large one roughly where, I suspected, the “dead” spleen would be. He started to pull at a sticky pad on his leg: it wasn’t actually being used, but looked as if it might have been for fastening a catheter tube down. “You can’t pull that off,” I said, “it says the glue is too strong. You need a special solvent.” It did indeed say “only remove with alcohol,” and I don’t think it meant “take shots so you don’t feel it.”

Mumbling: thirsty, maybe?

“Here’s your tea,” said my mother, passing him some very milky tea in a lidded plastic beaker. I knew when he had been admitted he had been nil-by-mouth; had that passed because it wasn’t necessary, or had that passed because he was on the way out anyway?

It felt like a long time, at the time, but writing this a few days later, my memory has compressed hours into a few flashes. My mother phoned the friend who gives her a lift to church every Thursday. “I’m in hospital,” she said, as if there wasn’t anyone else in the room. “They called me at 1am.” I wondered to what degree I was the second resort - how long had they waited between phoning each of us? I don’t trust my mother’s memory for facts. He drifted away to sleep a little, but the nurses came to wash him and change his sheets, as they did at that time every morning. They asked us to leave the room, so we headed down to the deserted hospital restaurant, another very long walk away, down the same corridor that led towards the mortuary. I didn’t really want to eat, even though I had been starving whilst driving, so from the breakfast selection I asked for just a coffee, a sausage and a slice of black pudding. “Just that?” said the server, with a very puzzled look.

We sat by the window looking at the morning sky, and having relatively normal conversation. I tried not to wonder whether he would die whilst we were having breakfast, and instead wondered as to whether he would actually die today at all. This might be a false alarm; just a turn he had in the night.

He was still alive when we came up to the ward, in clean sheets, covered up now, still slumped sideways and vaguely half-awake. The nurses tried to rearrange his pillows, sit him upright, and he slowly drifted off to sleep. His breathing still the same: harsh, gasping, mouth open despite the oxygen tube by his nose. He slumped sideways again, and the nurses decided to leave him be. In his sleep, he dozily tried to pull the oxygen tube from his shoulder, but didn’t have the energy or the coordination. The consultant and the doctors arrived on their morning round: a garrulous Scottish chap in a red shirt, Mr McAdam. “I’m sorry we have to meet like this,” he said, and complimented me on my facial hair. “We had a very lucid conversation the other day,” he said, “and we agreed it would be wrong to take any further serious interventions. Just too much suffering. He was happy with that decision.” And he ran through the list of problems my dad was facing. A burst stomach, leading to a thrombus. An infarcted spleen. Liver failure due to an additional liver disease. He didn’t actually say “multiple organ failure,” but he didn’t need to. I realised, which I don’t think the doctors did, that Dad’s breathing was getting noticeably weaker as the doctors were stood around him. He was still breathing, though, even though it was definitely more shallow, definitely longer between breaths. The doctors filed out, trying to strike a balance between the bustle of rounds and the sombre tone needed around the families of the dying.

We watched him breathing, slower, slower and weaker, because there was not much else to do or think about. “I thought he’d gone there,” said my mum, “but then he started again.” She leaned in to see more closely, and held his hand.

There were a few seconds between breaths. The breaths themselves were shallow, hard to hear, very different from the gasping of a few hours earlier. And then: I didn’t think I could hear or see any more. Nothing, and more nothing. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, and took a photo of him: the phone made his skintone much healthier than reality did. “I think he’s gone,” I said. It was five to eleven in the morning.

A nurse passed the door, so I waved and beckoned her in. “We think he’s gone.”

She looked down at him, carefully. “I’ll call the doctors,” she said, “so they can pronounce. Do you want a cup of tea?” She went out, closing the door this time, and came back with tea, in the big mugs of the nurses, not the small mugs that visitors get; and some biscuits. We sat, dipping ginger nuts, the almost-certainly-dead corpse of my father in front of us. “I keep expecting him to jump up and say it’s all a joke,” said my mother.

It took over half an hour for the doctors to arrive; their job is to care for the living, after all. We stood outside the closed door of the room whilst they ran through whatever it is they do, working in a pair, I assume in case a lone doctor might be tempted to Shipmanise a still-living patient. “Do you want to go back and see him after they have done?” said a nurse. We went back inside the room; they didn’t appear to have moved him at all. Still slumped against the siderails of the bed, mouth still open, eyes still shut. His skin, getting on for an hour now after death, was white-pale and waxy-looking. I took another photo; the camera still tried to give him a normal human skintone.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” said my mother, but we walked out of the room and closed the door behind us.

“The doctors will write up their notes,” said a nurse, “and you have to go to...ooh, I don’t know!” She shouted to another nurse: “Where do they get the certificate? Is it the cashier?”

“It used to be the cashier,” said the other nurse, “now it’s the bereavement office.” Well that should be obvious, I thought. “I’d go in the morning, it probably won’t be ready today. Give us a call first to check. I’ll give you a booklet.”

We walked back down the long, long corridor, holding our fresh copy of “Help for the bereaved: a practical guide for family and friends” Where the corridor joined the next, we had to squeeze past a folding screen which hadn’t been in our way before, and a sign that said “For Ward 3 Enquiries, ask at Ward 4″; and I realised, it was a death screen, to make sure that no random strangers saw my father being wheeled in his bed, slumped against the siderails, over to the lifts and down the long corridor down towards the restaurant and the mortuary. We walked out down the corridor, and I wondered what would happen next.

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frost-iron · 6 years ago

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PRIDE & PREJUDICE PROMPT/SCENARIO

OKAY. THIS IS FOR ALL THE PRIDE & PREJUDICE FANS:

Because I woke up at 6am this morning, I found myself lying in bed trying to go back to sleep and sort of Asgardian AU-ing Pride and Prejudice in my head from Mr Darcy’s terribly wedding proposal until the happy ending. And it was actually quite a good plot line. But I have no interest in actually wanting to full on write this AU. So I’m just going to give you the ramble from my head.

Read and enjoy or write, if you feel particularly inclined.

So the way I envisioned it was from the first, insult-laced, terribly proposal we’re all familiar with.

So in this scenario, Prince Loki had been coming to visit Weaponsmith Anthony for months. They first met through Fandral maybe who always liked hanging with the common folk and found/liked Anthony and saw he was a brilliant weaponsmith. Anyway, one day Loki came with Fandral and was kind of intrigued.

Anthony was polite at first but they quickly started snarking and arguing and their intellects were so sharp and vicious Fandral almost felt like he had wounds even as a bystander.

Anyway, Loki can’t get Anthony his mind. He’s been there with Fandral, on his own (for his own commissions) and just feels so drawn to the weaponsmith. Anthony, however, has put up with the prince because he’s a prince but Anthony thinks he’s arrogant, rude, a piece of fucking work and someone he wants to punch in the mouth.

Loki however, shows up one time because it’s been like say, almost a year of this and he can’t stop wanting/dreaming/lusting/desiring Anthony so he decides Anthony will be his. He does the whole Darcy train wreck proposal ala: “while you are beneath me as a lowly weaponsmith, this cannot be helped. I have still come to desire and want you. I know I will be going against the express wishes of my family, and my own better judgement, but I would have you consent to court me and become my consort."

And Anthony does the whole bug-eyed shock thing, completely stunned that Loki has been longing for him the entire time. But he very carefully and with clipped words thanks him for the compliment, but says no.

Loki is okay, hurt and peeved and demands to know why and then, of course, an argument occurs with Anthony being pushed and retaliating and snarling all the reasons why he would never marry Loki.

And what hits Loki the most is that every reason has nothing to do with all the reasons another Aesir might reject him. It wasn’t his magic, his sneaky behaviour, it was because Loki had personally been so fucking rude, dismissive and cruel to Anthony. He had treated Anthony, unwittingly, like many people treat him.

So Loki retreats, angry and hurt and trying to get over it (failing). And feeling kind of… bad as he looks over everything he did. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like feeling the sharp sting of bitterness, regret (continued longing) and the awareness Anthony was right and he was a dick.

Now. Anthony’s best friend right, is Rhodey and he is an Einherjar (royal guard) and he mentions Loki being weird being nicer to servants and yeah, okay, he’s getting a bit mocked for it by others in the court and making the servants suspicious but really, Rhodey just sees it as a good thing, a good change. He doesn’t know what prompted it, but it’s good. And Anthony shifting uncomfortably.

But he just keeps getting these weird accounts from everyone and having kind of… mixed emotions about that, but Anthony tries to push it to the side.

But, anyway, a few months later, Anthony and Loki run into each other because Anthony has been commissioned by the head of the royal guard’s for a sword.

And it’s awkward but Loki is really polite, really trying and Anthony is hesitantly polite back. Loki then, well, okay, he always tries to kind of, cross paths with Anthony when he’s coming to the castle to speak with the guard about the sword. Anthony doesn’t call him up on it or refuse the company of this puzzling polite, nice, nervous, prince.

He even allows Loki to walk with him to the royal guard’s rooms every time. He even starts allowing Loki to meet him at the castle entrance and walk him all the way there. It’s all chaste, all brief, polite conversations, but it’s kind of nice, and Anthony finds himself smiling and laughing a little and watching Loki brighten more and more each time.

Then, when the sword is done, Loki hesitates before quietly asking if Anthony would permit him to introduce Anthony to his mother. He hurriedly adds that she is in need of a new sword and is almost rambling reasons when Anthony says yes. A very small smile on Anthony’s lips and Loki grins bright with relief.

Anthony does meet the Queen and Loki sits nervously in the room the entire time as they have a sort of lunch/commission chat and then Loki sees Anthony out, watching him longingly from the castle entrance as he disappears into the streets of Asgard.

And then it’s the next morning that Loki goes to Anthony’s workshop, looking ~spiffy. He’s actively, for the first time, visiting Anthony, feeling like he can, like he won’t be rebuffed for it - but what he doesn’t know is Anthony received a letter that morning. Rhodey and some of the other Einherjars had gone to deal with something on Vanaheim and they were missing and presumed dead and Anthony is a wreck.

And Loki does the whole D: face full of concern and worry. He touches Anthony gently to lead him to sit down, his hands on Anthony’s hands/leg in comfort before realising he’s not allowed to do that and withdrawing. He still wants to comfort but is unable to. Anthony also probably admits to something here, something to make him look even more "common” or something, how he can’t do anything to help Rhodey because he doesn’t have permission to/can’t afford to traverse the realms, and what would he even do? He’d have no idea where to start, his best friend is going to die and Anthony is here and can’t save him.

And Loki his heart is aching and he makes a snap decision. “I’m sorry, Anthony, but I know you must be desiring my absence I’ll tell mother you won’t be able to continue the commission… I’ll leave you now.”

Anthony slumps a little and nods, unable to admit he felt a bit better with Loki here. But internally he’s thinking Loki obviously doesn’t like him any more (why would he?) and he also now knows how weak and truly poor and common Anthony really is, so of course he won’t want his mother to have one of Anthony’s swords.

But Loki, he basically bolts off the planet and goes to Vanaheim and searches for Rhodey. Like, he is gone for weeks but he finds them and gets them back and makes them all take a vow where they can say nothing about who helped them.

But Rhodey, Rhodey fucking knows why they were found and why Loki gave a shit. Anthony is so relieved to see him, throwing his arms around Rhodey in a hug. But Rhodey though, he is smart as shit. And it takes him a bit, but he still manages to say/give enough hints without breaking the vow to make Anthony catch on that Loki saved them.

Anthony is shocked and warm and happy. (And since we don’t need a Lady Catherine De Burgh is confrontation we’ll skip that) But I can see Anthony coming back to work on the commission and Loki and Anthony kind of just looking at each other/a lot. And Mama Frigga is not oblivious. She manages to shoo them into taking a walk around the gardens together and they do, Loki walking with hands behind his back, looking straight ahead as they talk about mundane things.

But Anthony is nervous and glancing around and making sure they are alone before whispering the whole, “Loki, I can’t go any longer without thanking you for saving Rhodey.” Loki looks at him with wide eyes and Anthony assists, “Your spell held but Rhodey and I have long learned to understand each other without speaking and I just… I just have to thank you. He would have been dead without you and I know a trained and loyal Einherjar is always needed but I just have to-”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Loki murmurs, not looking at Anthony. “While you are right that an Einherjar is well-regarded, I confess I thought of nothing but you.”

And Anthony’s heart trips and he sucks in a breath. Loki just closes his eyes and grits his teeth before shifting to better face and see Anthony.

“You are too intelligent to misunderstand me and too kind to mislead me.” He licks his lips, his eyes soft and sad and yearning. “If you still feel the way that you did months ago, please tell me. My wishes and feelings for you have not changed,” he looks away and confesses, “but one word from you and I will stay silent on this forever.”

And Anthony swallows, his heart racing, but he also reaches out and takes Loki’s hand in his own, making Loki’s heart lurch with hope and his eyes snap up to Anthony’s face who is smiling. “I don’t feel how I did those months ago, in fact,” he steps a little closer and squeezes Loki’s hand. “I feel the opposite.”

Loki sucks in a shaky breath and his eyes dart over Anthony’s face frantically. “You accept my courtship?”

“I do,” Anthony replies and they’re both smiling so relieved and happy and grateful.

And then Loki bends down and Anthony tilts up and their lips come together in a soft, loving, perfect kiss that starts their long, blissful life together.

AND THEN HAPPY ENDING SUNSET. TA-DAH.

#frostiron #prompt #iron man #loki #tony stark #genre: au #submission

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queen-of-the-merry-men · 6 years ago

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Around the Block (Glass Believer Fic)

A/N: So @findingtallahassee has written me a lot of prompts in the past and I wanted to write something for one of her OTPs. So here’s a short Glass Believer Hyperion Heights AU I thought of awhile ago where Henry is Jacinda’s Swift driver and she needs him to drive her around the block to calm her newborn. @trueloveismagic might be interested too.

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It was getting late when Henry dropped off his latest Swift customer. As he watched the tipsy couple stumble out of his backseat he silently debated whether or not he should call it a night. It was 3am and the late-night crowd was waning but so was his bank account the last time he checked. Pulling, away from the curb he decided that it was time to head home. He’d clock in early tomorrow to make up his losses but for tonight he was done.

He barely driven a block when he got another ping on his Swift app. Groaning, he reluctantly took a look.

A new fare, less than two blocks away and he was the only one in a 10-minute radius. Twisting his lips indecisively, he wondered if it would be worth it to cart another drunk frat boy back to his apartment for the night. After a moment of hesitation he decided to accept. Rent was due soon, anyway.

He drove to address praying to god that whoever got in his backseat wasn’t the chatty type. It was far too late to pretend as if he was interested in anything other sleep this night.

His eyes widened when he pulled up to the curb and saw a woman dressed in blue plaid pajamas waiting on the street. Her lopsided ponytail swung back and forth as she jostled the car seat under her arm, attempting to stifle the long winded yawn he saw fly from her mouth. Before he even rolled down the window he could hear the unmistakable cry of an infant reach his ears.

“My name’s Henry,” he said, uncertainly. “I’m your Swift driver.”

“Oh thank god,” she sighed, reaching for the door handle.

Henry watched, his eyebrows knit together curiously, as she shoved the car seat with her wailing baby in the back before climbing in the front seat and letting out a tired breath.

“So... where are you headed?” he asked, raising his voice over the sound of her baby.

She shrugged. “Nowhere in particular.”

“Excuse me?”

The woman vaguely, gestured toward the road. “Just... drive around the block a few times, please.”

A confused chuckle fell from the back of Henry’s throat, as he shook his head at her. “Yeah... that’s not how this works.”

The mother bowed her head, letting out a tired moan before turning to him with desperate brown eyes. “Listen Henry... do you see that precious ball of joy back there?”

He nodded.

“That is my two-month old daughter, Lucy,” she explained. “I named her that because she is the light of my life... but that screeching sound that she’s making right now? Well, it was the first thing I heard when she was born and the only thing I’ve heard since. I have been up since 6am yesterday, trying to get her to stop and failing miserably.”

“Okay...”

“The only two breaks I’ve gotten,” she said, talking over him, “were on the cab ride home from the hospital and on the hour-long trip to visit my step sister. Apparently the only thing that soothes is the steady rumbling of a car engine so I... am... begging... you... please just take me around the block. Because I am about to lose my mind.”

Henry stared at her. On closer look he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the spit up on her shoulder, both of them actually. All that combined with the wavering desperation in her voice as she begged him to drive her around the block painted a very visceral picture.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. “I will take around the block a few times. We’ll see how it goes.”

She shut her eyes gratefully. “Thank you. I will give you the best tip of your life, I promise.”

He doubted it, but as he pulled away from the curb with a crying infant and an exhausted mother as his passengers he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d been right to take the fare.

To her credit, the woman was right. They’d barely gone around the block once before Lucy began to settle. By their third time around, she’d gone completely silent and he was sure that she was sound asleep. He gave her two more laps to be sure, and pulled up to their building on the fifth, keeping an eye on her through the rear view mirror.

“Well, I’ll admit that worked better than I expected,” he said, cheerfully putting the car in park. “Think she’ll stay asleep for long?”

Realizing that he was getting only snores in response, his eyes whipped toward his passenger seat, where he saw Lucy’s mother out cold with her head against the window.

“Oh..no, no,” he said, gently shaking her shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Double checking her reservation, he starting calling out to her by name. “Jacinda... Jacinda it’s time to wake up.”

For all his efforts, Jacinda remained dead to the world and Henry dropped his head to the steering wheel and groaned. God, this was the night that would never end.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the cackling beginnings of a cry began to rise from the back seat. Lifting his head from the steering wheel he looked back, worried, as Lucy started to cry again. Jacinda stirred in the front seat and though he knew it was probably the quickest way to get her out of his car, a part of Henry hesitated to let Jacinda wake up to a crying baby.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

Rolling, his eyes he climbed into the backseat, placing a hand on Lucy’s stomach as she started to squirm. “Hey don’t cry,” he pleaded, in his calmest voice.

Lucy’s face turned red, as she outright ignored him and started to wail once again.

Henry grit his teeth, unsure of what to do next. He wondered if he should take her out of the car seat. Jacinda probably wouldn’t be too fond of that idea.

Lucy let out another wail and Henry reached for her seat belt buckle. Screw it. Maybe he was just tired but if her mother had the audacity to slip into a coma in his front seat, he should be able to comfort the baby anyway he saw fit.

Cradling her in arms, he tried to bounce Lucy to calm her down. It was ineffective. She squirmed and cried in his arms as he tried to remember what his mother had done when he was a baby. She said he used to read to him and tell him stories. Unfortunately, there was only one that he could think of at the moment.

“Okay Lucy,” he muttered. “The publishers didn’t like this one but maybe you will.”

He started telling her the warped fairy tale he’d been working on the past few years. One filled with redemption and curses, old feuds and two battling mothers. He whispered to her stories of a cursed town filled with miserable characters who had no idea who they were and the young boy who worked to save them. It was a long, twisted, confusing tale (according to the publishers) but Lucy seemed to enjoy it. Listening to him speak, her cries softened and eventually went silent. Her eyes didn’t shut but instead remained focused on him. He’d never had such an attentive audience.

Telling stories to her he didn’t even notice how much time slipped by.

---------

Sleep and rest. Jacinda had long forgotten what they felt like. Every since her daughter was born it’d been a 20 minute nap there and 10 minute break here. She hadn’t truly rested in weeks.

Perhaps that’s why she slept so soundly in Henry’s car. If she’d known it would be the last proper sleep she’d get for the next few weeks, maybe she would’ve felt less guilty but as it was she’d count falling asleep in her Swift driver’s car and leaving her baby to the whims of a stranger as one of her lowest parenting moments.

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was how rested she’d felt. Her bones no longer ached and her head no longer felt heavy with sleep deprivation. For the first time in weeks her mind was clear was as the sky. That’s probably how the panic moved in so quickly.

Squinting, against the glare from the windshield, she noticed that the sun had started to rise and illuminate the street.

Wait... the street?

She abruptly sat forward in her seat and was jerked back by the seat belt across her chest. What hell? Her head whipped around, as she took in her surroundings. Was she in somebody’s... car?

“Don’t panic.”

She whipped her eyes to the back seat where she saw Henry sitting with her daughter in his arms.

“You’re safe,” he said.

One look at him, and everything came back. He was the Swift driver she’d ordered.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, frightened. “Why do you have my baby?”

“Because I figured leaving her alone in the car would be reckless endangerment,” he deadpanned. “You fell asleep.”

“I realize that,” she said, embarrassment rising in her cheeks as she glared at him. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I tried,” he laughed. “After the first ten minutes I thought you were legally dead. You were out cold.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, shutting her eyes and running her hand over her head. Did she really just fall asleep in a stranger’s car with her infant daughter? “Lucy...”

“Is fine,” said Henry. “We’ve really gotten to know each other these past two hours.”

Two hours? “Oh my god!” She jerked away her seatbelt and rushed out of the car. Opening the door to the backseat she held out her arms for her daughter. “Give her to me!”

Henry immediately passed over the baby, and Jacinda sobbed with relief, pulling her close. “Oh my god, baby I am so sorry.”

She looked her over, relieved that her daughter seemed no worse for wear. In fact, she seemed calmer than ever. Not a hint of tears in her eyes.

Henry climbed out of the backseat, pulling Lucy’s car seat with him. He looked her up and down. “I take it you don’t have much help.”

She looked at him, confused. “What?”

“No offense... but you slept like someone who’s doing it all on their own.”

She hesitated, before reluctantly nodding. “It’s just me. I have a roommate who helps as much as she can but she’s visiting her mom this week.”

Henry nodded understandingly, passing her the car seat. “Sounds rough.”

She kept herself from agreeing. She made a promise to herself when Lucy was born to never speak of her as if she was burden. Growing up that was all she’d heard from her stepmother and she didn’t want her daughter to feel the way she had. Instead she just nodded.

“It’s worth it,” she said, looking down at her daughter. “Every minute.”

“I bet,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze. “Listen if you ever need another ride around the block, call me.” He passed her a drab business card. “Hyperion Heights is kind of my territory.”

She let out a small awkward laugh as she took it from him. Henry Mills, FICTION WRITER.

“Fiction writer?” she noticed. “Anything I would know about?”

Henry shrugged his shoulders, opening the door to the driver’s seat. “Ask Lucy. She’s heard all my stories.”

They said goodbye with a nod and a small wave, Henry watching the two of them through his rearview mirror as he drove away, the picture of them sticking in his mind all the way home. After a quick shower, he’d collapse in bed wondering in she’d ever call him again.

When he woke up he’d check his Swift App to find the best tip of his life and a five star rating.

#glass believer #light believer #hyperion heights au #jacinda vidrio #henry mills #lucy mills #ouat #glass believer fic

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lifeiszestyy · 6 years ago

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*12/28/2018

*i didn’t write yesterday’s journal so here we go!! i didn’t sleep on 12/27 until i passed out around 4 or 5 pm so that’s a thing. i just. wanted to play super mario party. and i did a little bit with my sister, and i love it but the cpus keep beating the shit out of us for some reason. bad luck i guess. i took a shower and tried to figure out where my music went (they’re probably dead rip in pieces)

*i woke up at 11:30pm because of the shitty emergency alert and i was actually petrified. i didn’t sleep... until maybe 4am ish?? i woke up at? 6am and couldn’t go back to sleep lmao. i played a little bit of chain of memories at 11am, which was weird bc i hadn’t played in like a week and i paused in the middle of a battle. got through atlantica and olympus coliseum, and riku’s deck in wonderland Sucks Ass

*i hung out with my sister and her friend most of today and her friend told me about her current relationship drama and i Just..... am glad that i’m not 21 anymore aaaaaaaaaaa

*i’m about to pass out again rip my ass

*6:20pm

<:3c

#zest bloggin

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rantingstories · 6 years ago

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I woke up at 5am, drove to a local hill and read my book. How did it affect my day?

I use to wake up at 7am, eat straight away, sleep for half an hour and be late for work

Hellewwww. So, I would like to discuss a concept probably foreign to a lot of us, and that is productivity in the mornings. I think the general consensus for mornings is; wake up, turn the alarm off, lay there being miserable about our inevitable rise from the bed, literally fall back asleep like you don’t even need wages because you got the rent fairy to help you out, turn the alarm off, after laughing at the wage fairy thing become miserable again, tiny ‘lil pep talk, and rise. Usually, the mornings are for being sluggish, letting your body adjust and rest at the same time. You would eat your food and watch some TV or look on your phone, until it’s time to get ready for work or school. I feel this is the default morning of most people. My mornings have always been a little lazier and more shameful then that!

Typically, I would give myself an hour and 9 minutes. I’d have to leave at 8:15 so I would get up at 7:06 because sleep minutes are more like hours when you feel you’re losing them and 6 more minutes in bed felt like a lot to me. Then I would sluggishly walk to the kitchen and feed my two cats who would be bountiful balls of energy, making me a mere shell of a person in their presence. I would then make any cereal I can find and sit on the couch watching TV or looking through my phone as I ate. I wouldn’t really have time for a cooked breakfast or tea because here comes the important bit; I lay sleep, on the couch, for half an hour, as my partner lays in bed. Why? Glad you asked J I have no clueL. For me, being awake whilst in bed is fantastic because I can actually feel the pleasure of just lying there and letting my mind drift. I’m conscious to know I’m snuggly in bed and that’s a great feeling. So for me, I actually like my body being awake. That’s the reason I lay on the couch, much to my fiancés dismay that I would rather lay alone on the couch where the cats walk all over me and crush my ribs, their wet noses tapping my skin as they examine what the hell I think I’m doing with my life, then in her arms in our warm bed. I lay there merrily, thinking about nice happy things, body at rest, mind adrift, milk getting sneakily licked from my cereal bowl by those assholes as I lay careless and oblivious in my own warm bubble of rest and contentment. This is also subliminally stressful as I have to remember to get up at eight and each morning, my drifting mind lives in secret fear and sheer panic that I’ll properly fall asleep and be awoken at like 8:15 by my ashamed partner. Nonetheless, I always get up because I don’t actually sleep, I just lay there, pointlessly. Let’s think about what can be done in half an hour?

ü A workout session

ü Reading a book

ü Applying for jobs

ü Answering emails

ü A walk with fresh air

ü A shower

ü Putting effort into your make up, hair and outfit

ü Chores that you now don’t have to come home to

ü Making your partner breakfast

ü Watching EastEnders whilst washing up

You can get a lot done in that space of time so why was I just lying there, not even sleeping? It was pointless and I decided to change it, to explore the enigmatic world that rapidly progresses as we lie half dead asleep. The World of the Larks. The Larks are strange beings, they do the equivalent of half a day’s work a night owl does, in the two or three hours you’re still asleep. They are powerful and their motivation and strength should be feared or stolen from them when you get the chance. I decided this morning, I would try it. I spent a week, a few years ago, jogging at 6am. It was winter, dark, everyone at the bus stop looked like lonely orphans in any film designed to tug on your heart strings, and it didn’t appeal to me. However it’s the penultimate month of summer now, so I thought it would be different.

The hardest part already was the night before. Using my valuable, precious, beautiful time in evenings to actually be asleep by 10pm. I was devastated. I typically have so much damn fun in the evening, writing ideas for my 27 open novels, being too devoted to Bored Panda, Facebooking drama watching, TV, shouting “CUTENESS” at my cats, then I’ll go to bed at the ridiculous hour of about half 11, 12 or even 1! I’d fall asleep straight away and then repeat the aforementioned cycle of the 7:06 start. It sounds dreadfully unproductive and like a stereotypical uni student really. Like I would have lived when I was working till 10pm then at uni at like 10 or 2am. But this isn’t fun times anymore, I have a big girl job with a big girl flat and a big girl life and car insurance. It’s time to behave like a big productive girl who organises her life in diaries and budgets. So now we’re in the morning and I sort of woke up at 4:48am, my brain obviously pre-empting its doom. Then 5am hit. I took some advice from videos I had watched to prepare for this and I charged my phone in the hallway outside my door. That way, to shut off the noise, I had to get up, walk out to the hall and crouch down, giving my knees a workout already to switch it off. My partner decided to do this experiment with me, but left her phone on the nightstand, showing clear signs that her heart wasn’t in this, but she came with me and I feel so very proud. Her names Ashleigh by the way. Anyway, so I used the time to respond to some messages, they had built up because I didn’t use my phone half an hour before bed the previous night, another tip I picked up. The break from the screens will really do me good. It will help my eyes and my concentration levels. My eye lids won’t be lower, looking down at the phone, which helps with the eyes feeling lighter and me feeling more awake.

I was also surprised with how awake I actually felt. I find this happens every time I wake up before 7am, I always feel more awake then when I wake up after 7am. It’s odd but it’s true. Your body feels a bit weaker rather than just sluggish, but your eyes and mind are awake, like this is the time they are meant to be up all along and you’ve been over sleeping them. I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone else, but always been like this for me. So we woke up and had some grapes and water. I’m the type of person who could honestly eat KFC and drink coke, 5 minutes after waking up. Ashleigh could barely look at the grapes. 2 hours before their breakfast time, and the cats thought we were tired enough to forget and feed them early. Suckers! So then we left in her car and we drove to these hills near our flat, you climb them in a twisting motion and they overlook a beautiful canvas under the blue skies’ light of cars racing down the motorway, dull brown house roofs and Greater London pollution. Once we reached the precipice, we found our journey up had consisted of talks of the mind, how it copes with waking up early, how being productive actually boosts our serotonin levels and how we feel happier and more alive. So smarter conversation was happening. In our normal routine, the only conversation we’d get in the morning is what’s happening on Facebook or… nothing. It felt great to have an in depth conversation with nothing but the breeze around us, no screens no third party media to influence our conversations, just us, our minds and the world. It was lovely.

At the top, it took a minor toll on our legs. Let me tell you by the way, your legs at 5am are the equivalent to the little devil on your shoulder who tells you, you won’t get a degree because you’re useless at life or you won’t ever find a career you love just lower your standards or you won’t feel in the slightest horrible if you spend over £20 on a pizza delivery at 11pm on a week night. They don’t like 5am and they will remind you you’re a sadist and to have mercy and send them to bed. Ignore them, they are the over dramatic one in the family. Nonetheless, we sat down at the top and began to read our respective books. Mine was “The Good Guy” (Susan Beale), set in 1964, a realistic view on marriage, its ups and downs, the pressures on the typical masculine and feminine roles, motherhood and adultery, and hers was “I Let You Go” (Claire Mackintosh), how one mistake, brought on by pressurising and damaging events, can turn life upside down, with thrills and chases and emotions tugged hard. We only read a chapter each, but as everyone knows, books nourish your eyes better than a screen will, they nourish your imagination, forcing it to work to picture what you read rather than it being given to you, they nourish your vocabulary and extend it and they nourish your mood for the day with the journey you take when reading it, leaving you picturing your own world and story with more passion and thoughtfulness.

We descended the hill (and I ran up another, sorry legs L I am a bit heartless) and made our way home. She cooked us an omelettes and I washed up meaning, we will come home to a clean and tidy flat with no chores after a long day at work. We had tea and coffee, ate our food, shouted “CUTENESS” at the cats for a 37th time, and watched the YouTube Video that inspired this. I will link it down below. When we looked at the time it was 5 minutes to 8. I still had 5 minutes and I felt like I’d done my whole usual morning up until lunch time.

This experiment really did change my day, I feel brighter and more awake at work, driving to work made me feel more conscious and thus, safer. My morning was accomplished and productive, I felt like I had a much better handle on my life. We saw people jogging, people exercising, couples doing yoga at the top of the hill, and the enigmatic world of morning larks turned out to be a nice peaceful group of people exercising, nourishing their minds and bodies, leaving them free to relax in the evening. My partner and I both feel rejuvenated, in control, happier, fresher, lighter, healthier and less stressed immediately. I even got a text about something that had been stressing me and I swear it felt so much lighter on my shoulders, in fact it went straight over my head because I felt happy and in control of life, not down trodden and rushing to get to work. I suggest you all spend at least one day waking up at 5am, I promise you, you will not feel as over tired as you think you will, you’ll even feel more awake than usual, or your money back! It’s still, sort of summer, so leave the house, and go on a small walk or read a book, climb a hill and kiss the rising sun, do anything as long as it’s doing something productive. Then cook a hot breakfast and feel proud of your strength and your beautiful, accomplished morning. I do not miss my beautifully pointless naps and my hobby of running red lights because I’m late for work.

Mentioned YouTube video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGWrGFlYtAQ

Thank you

Siobhan

#blogging #writing #writersblog #tumblr blog #productivity #earlymornings #5am #5amclub #thought #opinions #inspiration #youtubeinspo #happy #motivated #motivationalpost

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so-hoseok · 6 years ago

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The New Kid (5)

genre: fluff

words: 2.5K

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4

The next few days sneaking around with Jungkook were the best days of my life so far. We had a tradition where every time it turned 1:30am we’d leave the house and go wherever the world was taking up. We’d sometimes end up at this ice cream place that’s open 24/7, sometimes we went into the city and looked at the lights, but my favorite of all was when one of us were stressed or upset we’d go to the hill we went to during our first date and just lay there and talk things through. He honestly has changed my life for the better, I just wish we wouldn’t have to be sneaking around. I want him to come over and watch movies on my couch while cuddling, or go on dates when the sun was out and more to do. We both knew it couldn’t be that way because of my issue with Veronica and his issue with his parents. If they knew he was sneaking out late at a night with a girl, they’d take away his college funds and everything. We made a pact that we would never tell anyone about anything we were doing to make 100% sure nothing came out. As well as, everytime the date would be over (sometimes around like 6am before we had to leave for school at 7am) he would always play the same song, Sam Smith’s “Way to Good At Goodbyes” as i opened the door and walked to my front door. He was super a nerd, he would have a frown on his face and wave goodbye slowly as he started to fake cry. He made me so happy, a different kind of happy no one else could make me. We still hadn’t put a label on what we were which was okay with me, kind of. I mean, I liked doing what we had been doing but it would be nice to be called “his girlfriend” from time to time. I opened my front door as I heard Jungkook’s daily goodbye song fade away behind me as he went to pull around to his house. I slowly shut the door and walked to the living room as quietly as I could since my mother would probably still be sleeping. I peeked into her room and saw that it was empty, my heart sunk. What if she had been watching Jungkook and me from the moment we left the neighborhood to just now when we parted ways. I shut her door and walked into the kitchen noticing a single light from the living room was on.

“Hey honey, why are you up so early?” My mother said. She was sitting on the couch with some coffee and a book she was reading.

“Why are you awake?” I ask back trying to sound like I had just woken up.

“I couldn’t sleep, for some reason, I felt really anxious. I went to your room to see if I could sleep with you but you weren’t there.” She says with a stern tone in her voice. I hadn’t heard her speak like that since before dad died. My heart started racing and my hands were getting sweaty, was this the first time I was going to get really bad in trouble? I had never gotten in trouble before besides the occasional mishap here and there that she handled calmly and didn’t punish me.

“I...I... went for a jog.” I said.

“You went for a jog at 4am?” She said confused.

“Yeah, I woke up and suddenly got the urge to get out of the house and I didn’t want to wake you up so I left without notice,” I said, if I was going to get in trouble, I’d want it to be a small reason and not running around with a boy.

“Oh, okay. I guess that’s fine then. But make sure I know next time, I don’t care if you wake me up. I’d rather be woken up by you then an ambulance saying you’re dead.” She says taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry,” I said smiling at her before making my way back to my room to rush and get ready for school. I sat at my vanity wondering if I should even put on makeup. I looked like hell but I was too tired that the thought of doing so made me wanna scream and cry. All of a sudden this light started flashing towards my window directly into my eyes. I looked out the window and saw Jungkook sitting near his window with his flashlight. I went to text him but he started flashing the light even more to get my attention. He put down his flashlight and grabbed a piece of paper and a marker. He sat there for a good 5 minutes trying to figure out which way to write the words so that I could read them because the whole trying to write things backward is pretty challenging. He finally finished and held his paper up to the window.

“My dad saw me come in the house and took my phone away, this will have to do for communication.” The note read. I felt sorry for him, that was the one thing he did not want to happen and it did. His parents must’ve been furious at him. I quickly searched my room for a paper and pen and started to write my response to him.

“We can be like Taylor Swift and that random guy in her music video.” I wrote back. Jungkook started laughing as he was writing down something else.

“I’m sorry but I don’t think we can do these dates anymore, at least for the time being.” He wrote back. My heart shattered, I wouldn’t get to spend alone time with Jungkook anymore. For the past 4 days, that’s all I’ve ever thought about and what made me happy. But I guess I understand, I’d want him to understand the situation if the same thing were to happen to me.

“I understand, we can stick to talking this way if that’ll be better.” I wrote back. His face lit up from happiness. Before he could write Yoongi walked into his room. He stood there for a few seconds talking to Jungkook, they looked like they were having a fight. Yoongi kept making eye contact with me and pointing in my direction and Jungkook was flailing his arms around angrily. I decided to let them have their privacy and closed my blinds. I wondered what they were fighting about but most likely it was just normal brotherly fighting. I quickly took a shower and got ready for school as the exhaustion hit me. I couldn’t pick up my shampoo I was so tired. I had to get to school to see who made the team but I knew I couldn’t last all day without crashing in the middle of the hallway. After my shower, I did all the normal steps to getting ready and went downstairs.

“Hey mom, is it okay if I leave school a little early today? I’m just not feeling well.” I asked my mom.

“Do you feel sick?” She asked as she put some food on my plate for breakfast.

“No, I’m just really exhausted and feel burned out,” I told her. Which wasn’t a total lie, I was really exhausted from being out so late every night but she didn’t have to know that.

“Yeah, I guess it’s all right. Just make sure you don’t have any tests or anything coming up you’d need to be there for.” She said smiling at me. I ran over to her and gave her a thank you kiss on the cheek as I grabbed my waffle and ran out the door. I had left the house pretty early so I pulled out my phone and went to call Veronica to see if I could just come over for a little bit.

“Hey..” I looked up from my phone and saw Yoongi sitting on the edge of my porch like he had been waiting for me.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked confused, why would he wait for me to talk to me when he had my number.

“I just wanted to ask you something, are you and my brother a thing?” He said. My blood rushed out of me from those words. I instantly got cold, if Jungkook had told him everything I’m going to be so angry at him. We promised each other it was going to be a secret.

“Why?” I asked.

“I saw that Jungkook had gotten home pretty late and heard my mom yelling at him. When I went to go ask him what happened I saw you guys talking through the windows.” He said looking down at the ground like he was upset or something.

“It was nothing honestly, I went out for a run and got lost and needed him to come to get me.” I lied.

“Oh okay, I guess that’s okay. Just be careful with my brother, he’s known to hurt girls and I don’t want you to do experience that.” He said back. I suddenly got angry, why would Yoongi say this about Jungkook. Sure he’s his brother and knows a lot more but he hasn’t seen the side of him like I have.

“You’re lying,” I said laughing at him angrily. Before Yoongi could respond, Veronica honked at me notifying me that she was here. I waved goodbye to Yoongi before running to the car and getting in.

“What was that about?” Amanda said.

“Nothing, I was helping him study and he needed a few last minute reviews before his test today.” I lied again. When did my life become one huge lie? Amanda nodded and turned back around as Veronica pressed on the gas. Halfway to school my phone vibrated killing the jam out session we were having since my phone was on the AUX.

Yoongi: I’m serious, be careful.

I ignored the message. He’s playing a game with me and I’m not here for it at all. I enjoy my time with Jungkook, he makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the world and that someone actually cares for me. I’m not going to listen to an outsider who doesn’t know what he is truly like. We get to school and all of us instantly run to the corkboard to see who had made the team. I knew I was going to make it so I wasn’t as nervous, It was tomorrow that I was nervous about. The day I find out if I made captain or not. By the time we had made it to the board, there was a whole group of girls standing in front of it. You heard an abundance of screams and tears as some made it and some did not. Veronica and Amanda grabbed my arm and pushed through the crowd to get to the front.

“OH, MY GOD!” Veronica yelled.

“HOLY SHIT!” Amanda screamed right behind her. I looked up to the board and scrolled through the names on the list, and did not see my name. My heart dropped and I felt tears coming on. What the hell did I do? I had made team for the past 2 years and now I’m getting kicked off, right when scouts are going to be looking at me at the games. I did one more sweep through the list of names going all the way down and there I was.

Emily Davis- Captain

I instantly screamed along with Veronica and Amanda. We all formed a big three person hug and were jumping up and down. I started to cry tears of joy. I wanted to basically run around the whole school jumping and screaming for joy. I had worked so hard for this opportunity and everything was falling into place in my life. I was captain of the team, my grades were better than ever, Jungkook and I were together. Life was amazing at this point. The bell rang signaling all of us to go to class, I did not want to. I wanted to run back home and celebrate with my mom or better yet, find Jungkook. We all parted our ways to go to class as I ran around the school trying to catch Jungkook before he went to his homeroom. I saw Yoongi walking into the school and immediately ran to him.

“Yoongi!! I got captain!!” I yelled jumping into his arms. I did not care if we weren’t friends at this point or that this was probably super awkward for him but I was so excited I needed to hug literally everyone.

“Oh my god Emily that’s amazing!!” He said back smiling super big.

“Where’s Jungkook, I have to tell him too,” I said looking behind him thinking Jungkook would be walking in as well.

“He went over to the soccer field to get in a few more goals before the first game this weekend, but Emily..”

“Thank you, I have to go tell him, I’ll see you tonight for another study session okay?” I said before running off to the field. I had 5 minutes before I had to get to class but I did not care at all, all I wanted was to see Jungkook and tell him the good news. By the time I had made it to the field, no one was there. I walked around the edge of the field thinking that I had missed him and would have to wait till later on in the day to tell him, but I couldn’t wait. I took one more look all around and saw someone leaning up against the entrance to the school. Maybe it was him. I ran over to the entrance and sure enough, it was him...and Sarah...with her hands in his hair… laughing and smiling. My heart dropped. This isn’t real, it’s probably not even him. Before I could say anything, Sarah noticed me.

“Oh hey, Emily! Congrats on captain! I guess we’ll be together a lot this season since I’m captain for JV.” She said causing the boy to turn around suddenly at the hearing of my name. Sure enough, it was Jungkook. He looked shocked and sad as he connected his eyes with mine.

“T...Thanks, I..uh...I better get going.” I said fast walking past them. I heard Jungkook call my name from behind me but I kept walking and ignoring it. I could feel the tears wanting to escape my eyes with every step I took. I finally decided to make my way to the bathroom instead of first period to let out all of my emotions in the privacy of a stall. Before I could turn the corner, my arm was jerked back which forced me to turn around. Jungkook had caught up with me.

“It’s not what it looked like.” He said looking down at me.

“No, I get it honestly. You got tired of sneaking around with me and decided you wanted something real. I understand.” I said trying to escape his hold. It only got tighter.

“You’re an amazing girl Emily and you know..”

“Just stop it okay? Save yourself the embarrassment.” I said escaping his hold finally and making my way around the corner, back on my path to the bathroom.

“Emily…” I heard from behind me. I turned around and saw Veronica standing where I was before with Jungkook. Oh shit.

“Hey..” I said walking towards her. She looked angry and sad all at once, I hadn’t seen her like this since she was dumped by her ex-boyfriend last year.

“Sneaking around…” She said shaking her head at me as a single tear fell from her eyes.

“V I can explain,” I said running over to her. She put her hand out to signal me to stop.

“No, let me explain. We made a promise, dibs is dibs and nothing changes that. You lied to me, you lied to Amanda. That’s not what friends do.” She said as more tears started flowing out. I started to cry as well, I never meant for any of this to be the way it was. I never wanted any of this to happen. Today was suppose to be a good day, the best day of the year. Before I could say anything, Veronica turned around and started walking away from me. It was like every step she took shattered my heart even more than how it already was. I really screwed things up. Jungkook, Veronica, Amanda, hell maybe even my own mother. These were all things that weren’t supposed to happen and they did and it doesn’t even feel real. This feels like it’s all something I’m dreaming of. I can’t just wake up from this, this isn’t a dream. It’s reality.

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