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blueprint-han · 4 years

Text

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

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cosmonaughtt · 4 years

Text

hitch-hiker (steven universe future/dannny phantom crossover)

ao3

Danny's lost, thanks to the help of another ghost patrol gone wrong. Luckily he finds a kind driver who's willing to take him to the next town. But is this driver just as "normal" as he is?

Hitchhiking was NOT the way that Danny wanted to get back to Amity Park, but he was left with it as his only option, because;

1. He was exhausted. His powers could still work, sure, but he didn’t want to risk trying to fly back home, transforming back mid-flight and taking a tumble to the earth, and

2. He didn’t know where he was and what direction he had to go to in order to find his way home.

Danny tried to pull out his phone and check its signal; no luck. It wasn’t a dead-zone, but his phone was dead. Hah. Funny.

What did he have on hand? Well, he always had the thermos on hand, in his other form. He had his phone and a wallet. And that’s it.

Just his luck.

He sent a few texts out to the ghost hunting group chat. They wouldn’t send until he had some kind of connection again, probably, but it eased his heart to

And. And, to top it all off for his current situation, he hadn’t even found the damn ghost he’d been fighting originally! Stupid Skulker. The wild chase (of which Danny was, unfortunately, hunted again) took him back through the Ghost Zone and out through a random door.

Which led him to this current moment. Standing on the side of the road trying to catch a lucky ride to the next town to figure out how long it’ll take to fly home.

The road was pretty empty. It was inching closer to midnight by then, and he was probably going to have to transform to try and get at least to the next town where he can break into a motel and catch up on a little bit of sleep before trying to get home.

Damn his luck.

Danny glanced at his phone again. Now it was midnight. Hopefully, his messages would send in soon, but he was going to give it until… 12:20 until he gave in and flew. Try and recover some energy so he wouldn’t suddenly decide night-time sky diving sounds a lot of fun in the middle of nowhere.

12:01.

12:02.

12:04.

12:10.

The sound of a car’s engine brought Danny up from the crude drawing he was doing in the dirt by his feet. He stood, and glanced down the road. A single car, brights on, was making its leisurely way down the road.

Danny stuck his hand out and waved. Please, please, please…

To his luck (thankfully), the car slowed down as it neared him. It was a compact Dondai of sorts, but Danny never paid much attention to the different kinds of cars. He had to think of more important things, like the different kinds of ghosts.

The passenger side window rolled down to reveal the driver.

Who looked not much older than him.

“Hey, are you okay?” The kid asked, quirking an eyebrow. He looked really young, but maybe it was bad genetics.

“Uh, yeah, I’m good. Could I get a ride, though?”

The boy didn’t look immediately distrustful of Danny, at least. He even smiled and nodded. “Sure! Hop on in!”

The passenger side unlocked with a click-- it was one of the older cars, where you had to manually roll down the windows and had a cassette deck, but other than that you couldn’t tell. It was really nice inside, and Danny jumped into the plush seat and smiled at the driver.

“I’m Steven, your humble new chauffeur.” He introduced, with a cheeky wink.

“Thanks. I’m Danny.”

“It’s good to meet you. Where are you heading to?”

“I just need to get to the next town. Do you know how far that is?”

Steven thought for a moment, before leaning over to Danny’s side and pulling out a map. Really off-road, but then again, Danny didn’t have any service, so the odds that Steven had some were slim as well. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in the car to read the map, but it only took him a minute to figure it all out. “An hour or so, I’d say. If I’m doing the math right.”

“I’ve got a C minus in math, I doubt I’d be much help,” Danny said. “Is that on your way? If it isn’t, I can try and--”

“No, it’s fine!” Steven interjected. “I’ll probably gas up there, and probably rent out a room to sleep.” He laughed nervously. “All buckled up?”

Danny nodded.

And off they went.

…

….

…… It was weird.

It only took a few minutes of being in this stranger’s car to realize how weird this situation was.

He was in the car with a boy, probably barely a year older than him. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the night. It was not some horror movie concept (and frankly, Danny hadn’t been scared by one of those in months after all the shit he’s been through), but it was just. Really, really, really weird.

Steven hadn’t asked why Danny was out in the middle of nowhere. He hadn’t asked Danny’s full name, he had provided his own and hadn’t hounded Danny with any questions. He also didn’t explain much about why he was out in the middle of nowhere, either, just driving in the middle of the night.

Maybe not all things needed answers.

“Do you mind music?”

Danny shook his head. He’d be listening to his own music, had he not broken his earbuds in the latest fight with Technus. He was going to get more tomorrow, since it was officially a weekend and he and his friends could go to the mall and he could buy them, hopefully without any fights along the way.

“Sadie Killer and the Suspects cool?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Sam had gone through a brief time of being obsessed with that band, and when she showed Danny the music he had to admit, it wasn’t that bad.

Steven reached into the compartment by his arm and pulled out an old cassette, switching the one that had previously been in it with the new one with seasoned ease.

Disobedient. Hm.

Again, another pause of silence.

“So… You’re not going to ask me why I was out in the woods? In the middle of the night? Alone?”

Damn it, Danny is so awkward. But he can’t help but be confused by the stranger who took him in without questions.

Steven shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it’s kinda weird, but I’ve seen weirder.”

Oh. Now that piqued Danny’s curiosity.

“So you pick up hitch-hikers often?”

“Eh, you’re only my third,” Steven replied. “The first was a guy who needed a ride to the hospital, I couldn’t just say no, you know? And then there was the woman who broke down on the side of the road, on the way to the car dealership. Talk about bad luck…”

“And you weren’t… afraid that they’d like, kill you or anything?”

“I can protect myself.” Danny tried to ignore the slight flinch that Steven had, but it was noticeable.

They settled into another beat of silence. Another song-- G-G-G-Ghost. Oddly fitting for Danny’s situation.

He didn’t even turn the question around and ask why Danny was in the middle of nowhere. He just… took it, as is. Might as well throw Danny’s cover story of getting lost when he got up in the middle of the night to pee while camping out the window, because Steven didn’t seem phased by anything at all.

Heh. Phased.

The thought of Steven being the maniac serial killer came, but Danny shot it down. The other teen-- he had to be a teen, or at least in his 20s, with a super bad case of Baby Face-- gave off some kind of vibe that he wouldn’t hurt anyone.

But he could. It was extremely powerful; but not threatening. More like royalty, if anything.

It was strange. Danny never got it confirmed as an official “ghost power”, but being able to just sense people’s vibes were definitely not a human thing.

Then again, what was a human thing? It’s been almost two years since The Accident.

Tucker called it being able to vibe-check people. Steven’s vibes were powerful, but not malevolent.

“So… Steven, where are you going?”

“Eh. I don’t really know.” He gave off a smile, but it was different than his tone. “I’m trying to go on a journey of self-discovery right now? Just going where-ever the road takes me.”

“Really? Don’t you go to school or anything?”

“Eh-- uh, kinda. I’ve taken up a few online classes I can get with free wi-fi and stuff, you know?”

“How old are you?”

“Almost seventeen.”

Alright. Danny knew some kids in Amity Park who dropped out of Caspar High. Some of them took up jobs at the Nasty Burger, others in various gas stations, and grocery stores throughout the city. So Steven must’ve been a well-off kid to just drop out, take online classes, and travel the country.

Danny was kind of jealous. Being able to just drop everything and go somewhere else, and make a new identity for yourself?

But he’d be leaving Amity Park defenseless. No, bad idea.

Danny checked his phone again for the time-- ah, finally. Connection again.

big titty goth gf: danny? helloooo?

t.f. as in the fuck: you’d think he’d be back by now.

big titty goth gf: yeah, well, he isn’t if u hadn’t noticed

t.f. as in the fuck: ………. Yeah

t.f. as in the fuck: usually he’d be out of the ghost zone by now if skulker’s got him going. think something happened?

big titty goth gf: i hope not or else jazz is gonna start yelling at us for letting him go into the gz alone

big titty goth gf: danny tuck and i are headin back to my house let us know when you’re ok?

Oh, his messages are finally going through. That’s good.

sad ghost club president: hey SHIT guys uh i got out of the ghost zone but uh. Don’t know where i am and don’t know where skulker went i’m gonna try and find a way back home. can either of u cover for me while i’m gone? Idk when you’ll get this massage

sad ghost club president: *message fuck tonight sucks

It wasn’t long until someone responded. They were teens, they were up late on a weekend night. No rules.

big titty goth gf: oh thank GOD its been like two hours

t.f. as in the fuck: good to hear you’re ok! sam and i got ya covered. But where are you?

sad ghost club president: tuck i just said i didn’t know. but a kind samaritan stopped and i’m on route to the closet down

t.f. as in the fuck: you’re HITCH-HIKING?

sad ghost club president: well it’s either that or having a fun trip skydiving tonight, so yeah

big titty goth gf: just be safe danny, don’t fall into a horror movie

sad ghost club president: remember i’m scarier than anything they can throw at me owo

sad ghost club president: plus this guy doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly

sad ghost club president: or, well, he could if the fly hurt him first. Vibe Check is going off yall

big titty goth gf: i still cant believe u refer to that as ur Vibe Check

t.f. as in the fuck: sam its a good name

big titty goth gf: I Beg To Differ

t.f. as in the fuck: anyway if his vibe check is clear then you’re probably ok danny

sad ghost club president: yeah but its still super weird. he hasn’t asked why i was in the middle of the woods or anything, he didn’t ask me any questions about whio i am?? he’s also like. jazz’s age at MOST. just driving nowhere in the middle of the night because apparently he’s on some sort of journey of self-discovery

big tittyy goth gf: yeah thats weird but also danny?

sad ghost club president: yeah sam?

big titty goth gf: stop being paranoid

big titty goth gf: also ur cover story is being at my place with tucker for a movie night like we originally planned until He came around.

t.f. as in the fuck: fuck skulker

sad ghost club president: skulker does not have rights

He could chill now, that he knew that Sam and Tucker have his back (like always, they always have his back) and a cover story already set up. His parents didn’t question his whereabouts usually on Friday nights, because he usually spent them with his friends and they were usually too buried in research to notice him not there.

Sad, but true.

Steven changed out the cassette tape for another, continuing the quiet drive down the road.

This is okay. They were probably only half an hour away now. Once they got to the city, Danny could look it up on his GPS app and see how long it’d take to fly back home. He couldn’t have ended up too far away from home, but with the Ghost Zone, he had doubts sometimes.

Of course just as everything seemed to be okay, everything had to go downhill immediately.

It started with his ghost sense going off. Steven was preoccupied with looking at the road, listening to the music playing through the speakers. Luckily.

Danny glanced out the window.

Skulker’s face materialized through nothing and threw his robotic body at the car.

It was a shake, but the sudden force against the poor car sent it sliding across the road. Steven grasped the wheel hard and hit the brakes, and Danny braced himself and held onto whatever he could.

Luckily it was midnight in the middle of nowhere, no one else was on the road.

“You okay, Danny?” Steven asked, looking around with frantic eyes.

“I’m-- yeah, I’m good.” Danny took a deep breath. He glanced out the window again. Skulker was still around, no doubt about it, and Danny’s ghost sense went off again. He’s close.

“What was--”

Danny didn’t want Steven to have to deal with ghosts, on top of his existential cross-country trip to find himself. For all Danny knew, the kid didn’t even believe in ghosts! He unbuckled his seatbelt and threw open the door.

“Thanks for the ride, goodbye!”

He didn’t want to deal with Skulker, once Steven was out of the way he’d go ghost and try and fly to the town nearby and figure out where he was, then let Skulker hunt him all the way back to Amity Park. All in a night’s work.

“Wait, Danny--?”

He ducked into the brush by the side of the road, trying to lure Skulker away from Steven. He didn’t want more normal people to get involved in his problems.

But apparently the other kid didn’t take goodbye! very well, Danny turned his head around and saw Steven following him carefully into the woods by the side of the road.

Before he could tell Steven to turn around and go, Skulker appeared. Of course. Steven was immediately drawn to the sight of the sudden floating, glowing robot in mid-air, of course, but it didn’t go the other way.

“You’re too out-of-range to have your friends help you with that stupid tablet now, whelp.” Skulker had somehow got re-synced to one of Tucker’s tablets, and it was good while it lasted, but it seemed Danny was out of time. And even if they were still synced up, they were too far away from Amity Park for it to connect.

Damn it. Just his luck.

“Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Skulker added before Danny could interject with a witty remark. He raised one of his DALV-made ecto-guns and it shot.

Go intangible, his instincts said.

FUCK, his brain said, helpfully.

He closed his eyes and braced for whatever was coming-- intangibility, pain, whatever. Hopefully, Steven got the idea to run--

No pain came. He wasn’t intangible.

Danny opened one eye.

And then the other.

Steven was standing between him and Skulker, and a weird… It wasn’t ecto-energy, but it was some kind of pink energy, forming a barrier, taking the hit from the ecto-gun too easily.

What.

The fuck.

Steven turned around to Danny, eyes wide. “Danny, are you okay?”

“Uh-- the-- what.” Skulker looked as annoyed as he usually did, if not more, and tried to phase through the pink barrier. “Are you-- what-- uh. I think my brain has officially had it. Yeah, you know, this might as well happen.”

Steven cringed. “Oh, the shield. It’s a, uh… Long story.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Danny replied. He looked back at Skulker. He didn’t want to transform right in front of Steven, but the barrier probably wouldn’t hold forever, or Skulker would just go over it or under it eventually.

Steven could clearly protect himself. This is what he meant, it seemed.

“Well. I didn’t freak out on you. So don’t freak out on me now, okay?” Danny looked to Steve, who nodded.

“No freaking out, got it!”

Danny allowed the familiar rings to transform him. Why he was trusting this random kid with the biggest secret he had (well, one of the biggest secrets, technically), Danny didn’t know.

But the kid obviously wasn’t normal himself, as evidenced by the glowing pink barrier between him and the ghost.

And to his word, Steven did not freak out. His eyes did glimmer and he did look at Danny with an odd sort of familiarity to it, a sort of kin-ship of weird teenagers with weird powers. Apparently.

Skulker broke through the barrier. He looked down at Steven, then to Danny. “Looks like I’ve got two pelts to add to my collection.”

“Ew, gross?” Steven replied, looking a bit sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, you get used to it after a while.” Danny shrugged, before turning to Skulker again. “How many times do I have to tell you, Skulker, that you’re never gonna get your hands on my beautiful hair?”

Danny charged ectoblasts into his hands. Steven allowed more of that weird-pink energy form around his fists, like boxing gloves. Ah, not just a one-trick show pony.

“I’ve got your back, Danny.”

And for once, Danny didn’t feel alone in his ghost-fighting.

----

Skulker was taken down easily with two people fighting instead of one, especially with barriers that could take hits from both ecto-gun blasts and normal ecto-energy blasts pretty well. It was probably not even five minutes until the pesky hunter was sucked up into the thermos and stashed back in the safe space along Phantom’s handy belt.

Steven didn’t even look fatigued. It looked like he had more energy than he had started with originally-- probably the adrenaline high that came with every ghost hunt.

“Alright. I was trying to not be too nosy, but what was that?”

“A ghost.”

“A… a ghost?!”

“Yup. Not the whole horror-movie, boo and spook ya kind of ghosts.” Danny said, floating down to where Steven stood. “You’re taking this well.”

“You’re taking this well.” Steven wasn’t even bruised and he’d been thrown into a tree during their fight. He wasn’t even bleeding, but one of his fists was still covered with the magic-bubble glove. He flexed and it popped, fading away.

“Well, at this point, anything might as well happen.” Danny landed, allowing him to transform back. “You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?”

The sudden harsh tone in Danny’s voice startled Steven, and he straightened up. “Scout’s honor! Even though I was never a scout.” Steven shrugged. “And, well, I never kept my gem powers a secret, so I don’t care if you tell anyone or not, I guess?”

“Gem powers?” It was the word that Skulker had thrown out during their fight, but Danny was just trying to take him down quickly so he could get home quickly so he could take a nice, long nap.

“Oh, yeah. I’m half-gem.” To prove, Steven lifted his shirt and showed that, in the placement of his navel was a bright pink gemstone. “Half-gem, half-human.”

Wow.

The only experiences Danny had ever had with other hybrids like him-- halfas-- were Dani and Vlad. Dani (or, Ellie, as she said last in one of her letters) was his clone, for starters, who was taking soul-searching to a whole new global level. Vlad was an egotistical maniac who wanted to kill his dad so he could date his mom.

“I’m… I’m half-human, too. Except, half-ghost instead.” He could feel a few tears welling up, but he pushed them aside. “Normally I’d say you’re going to have to wait a little longer to unlock my tragic backstory, but after tonight I’d say we both have stories to tell.”

Steven smiled. “I still owe you a ride to the next town, don’t I?”

#danny phantom #steven universe #steven universe future #danny fenton #dp #su #suf #fanfiction #danny phantom fanfiction #steven universe fanfiction #crossove #the cosmos writes #sam manson #tucker foley #i'm proud of those gc names ok #also my first time writing steven sorry if he's a bit ooc tried my best :D

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fuck-customers · 5 years

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Happy New Year hope you like Heatstroke

Yeah so. Event Services binch back with a long and harrowing tale. Those two shift days in a row on 30th and 31st were nooooot good for me. This is pretty much a 'Fuck how shitty my boss gets when she's stressed and also just fuck 14 hour shifts in general'.

The 9hrs on Monday turned into 9.5 hours. In 30c+ heat (and just a reminder, Sydney is currently constantly covered in smoke haze, we are always breathing smoke), but a breeze came through early afternoon to save us some. There was 4 of us putting up park signange in prep for the NYE event. I ended up schleping the ladder around a lot, I was the only one on that team that actually does weights so i carried a lot. Not a problem really except the signs and ladder are awkward to carry. Only real issue that day was my dinner was in the fridge all day which... turned out hadn't been working for 2 days (why they hadn't fucking put a sign on it about that I DON'T KNOW). Lots of people's shit got thrown out. My food was only just edible after nuking in the microwave cause i keep it in a thermo lunch bag.

The worst was NYE. 13 hour shift (it actually became a 14 hour shift). Started at 12pm, set to finish at 1am (I finished at 2). The sun was not forgiving, we had way more signage to put up because we had to wait for barriers to be set up before we could add signage to them (like line barriers for rides, entry barriers for VIP areas, that kinda thing). Our instruction sheets were BAD. They had OLD pictures that were tiny so seeing what signs were supposed to go where was hard. There was only three of us, the weather was in the high 30's and I'm sure it hit 40 at one point.

I ate a small brunch at 10 that morning. I did not get a break by 5pm like we were supposed to (park was to open at 6:30). I was yelled at by my boss for all the signage being in the wrong places and wasting cable ties (none of that signage I put up, or signage i put up with someone else's instruction they had gotten from my boss btw, so why i got yelled at idk). I was told to go straight up to my box office shift, I did not realise the box office was located outside with no shade during NYE (there was a marquee but the sun was low and behind us so *shrug* no sun cover).

I had to share a locker because NYE be like that, but the person I was sharing with was a ditz, and she thought I had the key, and she either lost it or didn't look for it properly in her pockets. Either way, I had to frantically run around in 38c trying to find her to get in the locker to change into the long black uniform pants I have to wear for box shift.

By the time i found her, got my pants on, walked all the way out the front and up the stairs and up the hill and down the path to box i was nearly dead. The other girls there told me i could sit cause it wouldn't get busy for a while. So i sat on a bench and then became very aware of how hot i was and how much i was not cooling down and i felt nauseous. And I had had like 2 and a half litres of water at this point, I have a 1ltr bottle so it makes tracking that easy. It just wasn't doing enough.

One of the Guest relations people hanging out up there went 'yeah okay you need first aid' so she got me some hydrolyte and escorted me down once I'd shaken off enough dizziness to walk again. Was in First Aid for half an hour, they got me to drink more hydrolyte and put an ice pack on my neck and gave me a barley sugar lozenge to get my blood sugar up. Then i was finally given my half hour break on their insistence. Got to eat at last. Had to check in with FA before going back to my box shift, and thankfully by then, about 6:30, a wind change came through making the temp drop about 10 degrees.

But I basically spent the time between then and 11:30 recovering ( I was on guest list duty and also did ticket collect, it was pretty quiet tho). At 9:40 my boss called one of the shift leads up at Box to see if they could send me home, and I had to say no. I was scared they'd FORCE me to leave after the heatstroke thing, but i NEED the money, this is my ONLY job, and I'm not even getting the pay for it til two weeks into the new year (it fell into the next pay period and i had no shifts inside the previous pay period).

They apparently were sending several peripheral staff home, I felt like I needed to find extra jobs to do just so they'd let me stay, but also, if i didn't stay past midnight i wouldn't get the public holiday bonus. I NEED THAT TOO. ESPECIALLY after all the work I'd done the day before, it felt like a fucking slap in the face even though i knew it was them trying to make sure I didn't end up getting sick and suing or some shit (As if i have the money to sue). Also I'd miss the Fireworks, which while not my main concern, still a bummer, because my dudes. Sydney Fireworks on NYE with a view from where I work. People pay more money than I currently have just to experience it. Honestly it's part of the payoff for the hell shift.

THANKFULLY my boss went 'ah right okay yeah just stay up there on guest list til the original end of shift'. I also made sure to stick my nose in on the sales end so i could use it as basic box office pre-training, since my boss has already said she wants to train me on box office. Somewhere around 10 I had my second break and wolfed down my food (they had a replacement staff fridge working that day thankfully) which i was glad i brought cause I never got given a staff wristband, brief sheet or token for a provided meal. Because I started before that sign in procedure was even set up for the rest of the staff. And then i went about taking down signage about 11:30, and then I did the running around taking signage down after 12, and like... the area we're in involves some steep hill walks to get to these outside sign placements (I'd put half of them up so it also made sense for me to go take them down).

And that's where MORE fuckery came in, because the shitty instructions didn't tell me where ALL the signs were, so i had to go HUNTING for the ones i HADN'T put up, and i swear either another department took them down and didn't relay that, or they'd been removed by council or something thinking they belonged to council. Either way i was up and down those fucking hills with horribly chaffed thighs, sore legs, sore arms, cut up hands from removing signs with cable ties too tight, and I couldn't find half the fucking signs. but at least I took one of the newbies with me to help look so I had a witness to not being able to find things.

So yeah. I had to go find my supervisor (no idea where boss was, prefer supervisor anyway, she's nicer under stress and poor thing was pulling a 19 hour shift) and let her know I was an hour over my finish time and which signs we hadn't been able to retrieve. She was fine with that, the rest of the people were scheduled for packdown to like 3:30 so she sent me to sign out.

And then i had to just sit for about 45 minutes back of house with some of the others who'd clocked off at 1 and who were waiting for the free leftovers from the VIP areas that came out at 3. I had a tiny tasty cake thing but that was it, then I left at 3 and got home about 4:45. Didn't get to sleep til about 5:30.

And I've spent yesterday and today trying to recover but now Iv'e got weird low-buzz tinnitus in my left ear that started yesterday and hasn't fucked off, several bruises, many muscle aches, and I'm kinda dreading facing my boss again even though she probably doesn't really care much about the signage thing, she just gets really shitty and yelly under stress. But of course I've been gaslit and mistreated in so many of my other jobs that the voice in the back of my head is constantly going 'watch out bitch you might get randomly terminated at any moment!!!' even though i know i probably won't.

I can just never be sure anymore. Can't trust anyone when it comes to work. Can never relax my guard, going to be stressing about it for a long time. I am never agreeing to a shift that long again though. And definitely not doing anymore outdoor setup shifts in Summer.

Honestly hoping this ear buzz shit goes away at some point. In the end for my 23.5 hours of work in 2 days I'll probably maybe get $500 after tax. Maybe. Which will only just be floating my account by the time i get it. Everyone else was talking about having that sweet NYE bonus cash and I'm like ;u; yeah. Sure. haha. Bonus cash. TnT I need a proper fucking career job already i am so tired.

#submissions #cashier problems #fuck retail #server problems #fuck managers #submission

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curlzformetal · 5 years

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Episode 12, Midnight Espionage

Okay, so first off, I will address dropping out from this for like five months. Uh, it happens…? Idk what ep I left off on typing up, but we’re gonna start back here for funsies. But I’m back!! With más reactiones! (Listen, u take Spanish for two years in high school and then. and then this happens.) So!! Episode 12!!

the whole plan,, is so goddamn smart. like how they talk throughout the ep is consistently considering all the angles, to steal the handwriting, to copy it, to do all this shit and,,, in any dnd campaign I’ve played all the people just want combat and it’s so nice to see dnd used in a ,,, varied environment i suppose? Idk I just love the (heh) espionage that goes down this ep, and it’s so goddamn cool.

another thing before the character breakdowns: the subtle,,, foreshadowing? That Marisha did w/o even thinking or knowing??? “We all think Matt’s managing three storylines but little known to us, he’s managing a fourth seCRET STORYLINE” and then shIT hits the FAN AT THE END OF THE EP and there’s,,, explosions and towers crumbling andAND AND PEOPLE. GETTING STRUCK BY L I GHTNING AND TURNED TO A SH. that,, was nice. everything went to shit but tbh I agree with Travis. “That went perfectly.” something is afoot my dudes…something is aFOOT.

okay so, we’ll start off w jester: fave moment was more a joint Nott and Jester moment. Nott asking Jester when they break into the attic if Jester wants to draw a mustache or a dick on the giant art piece…was priceless. I’ve mentioned that i really love their dynamic and that certainly holds true this time, and the jester is like… I think I studied this artist. And I?? Jester studied art?? I mean I used it makes sense but I,, can’t see Jester studying? Like I just don’t see it.

Speaking of Nott, the,, mage hand…mistake?? (Missed opportunity?) With the grappling hook and how upset she was like,, idk what that says about her and Caleb bc I almost get this vibe like she desperately needs to impress Caleb and always be as smart or only a little less smart than him bc she needs to prove to herself that she deserves his love and affection. And like that…really hit home. Very much so. The way she says, “I want to see you succeed,” really tells me that Nott feels like she needs to work to help Caleb not only because she loves him, but also because she might need to feel like she’s earning her place with him. And then after everything goes sideways, she still takes that moment to grab the scroll that Caleb wanted before leaving the High (Richter? Riktor?)’s home sort of cements that for me. ((okay, something else that fucking GOT ME. the whole hospital scene was a jam. a bop. Nott,, continually asking about doing this one plan and Caleb just,, keeps,, “No that sounds a little extreme” like…yeah. but the whole situation had gone extreme Caleb, or haven’t yOU NOTICED?? I just really love Nott and Caleb as a friendship. Like,, really badly. But also Nott hissing was fucking PRIME. the bEST. 111/10 you’re doing amazing sweetie.)) Also, Nott,,, is so funny. Like…the messages?? Every message she sends is,, the best. I think everyone absolutely knows they can respond to this message, but it reminds me of like those automatic email sign offs, and it’s just…great, it’s great okay, I have a terrible and easily pleased sense of humor and thIS PLEASES ME.

Speaking of the hospital scene, @Molly you know what you did. I am both disgusted…and very impressed. Good plan, terrible execution, it’s okay if you blame the dice. But Molly really goes that extra mile every time without it…striking me as a need to be extra? Like he does it, but it’s not for praise or good attention bc I feel like Molly almost…doesn’t care about that. It would be nice to see him get it, but I think Molly is so used to not receiving positive attention at all (take how the guard shooed him away when he has the little bus set up, take how suspicious the guards to the Trispire were and that’s just this ep) that it’s not an attention thing for it. And like…I don’t think it’s a fun thing either? He didn’t sound like he was having a good time cutting himself open or smashing through a window or acting possessed and like…in context (and out of it) it’s funny, but at the same time, Molly takes to it without he levity that would make him the comic relief. (That probably atm goes to Nott. Read: Sam.) Molly’s just…flashy? Without wanting the attention or having fun with it, he just is. Like…like he’s going through the motions of putting on a show without actually enjoying any aspect of it.

Whereas Jester absolutely enjoys putting on a show. She enjoys attention, she adores it, she has fun with it. Her and Molly are so similar in…genre (?)….but not in motive. Jester does things a certain way or does them at all purely bc they are fun. She enjoys playing dressup, she enjoys acting…she enjoys imagining things. (I almost wonder…if she didn’t imagine her mom?) It’s a really fun compare and contrast between her and Molly and I think they foil each other really well even without interacting that much.

You know who does interact with Jester a lot though? Beau. And while Beau doesn’t put on a show to be flashy or to have fun, I still feel like she is putting on some kind of show. Maybe not directly, but almost in a kind of…lie of omission way. Is an act of omission a thing? But anyways, it’s really interesting, Beau having secrets, Beau doing and saying true things, and pitting both of those things against each other. Beau is…almost her own foil, which is just weird but it really works for her. (10/10 moment: Beau trying not to bleed on a magical rug that is literally in fucking tatters.)

Which brings me to Fjord. Full disclosure, some of the spoilers I’ve seen for like eps 60-74 make me love him, even though atm Caleb is really stealing that cake, but what would have tipped me off is that when Caleb goes for the scroll in the High (Richter?)’s house, Fjord doesn’t hesitate the tiniest bit to threaten him. He threatens to dump (and HARM) Caleb, and by extension Nott, and he does it without any outer evidence of inner conflict which really…mhmMM is there inner conflict at all? Cue gif of there’s a lot to unpack here. It’s really interesting because he does this, but five minutes later Fjord shoves a health potion down Caleb’s throat and the words that stick with me are “We’re either a team or you’re working for yourselves. Decide.” because it’s so obvious that Fjord himself has decided that he’s a team. This is his team. He’s decided, he is invested in the Mighty Nein, not as individuals who are his friends, but as a group that’s HIS group. (Look at how the moment he escaped the hospital, he instantly turns around to help Molly.) Fjord believes in all them, together, in a way I don’t think anyone else quite does yet. It’s…a really really really good and fun thing to see, for sure.

Also the plot is so goddamn thick. Almost as thick as Molly’s cosplayed dick. (I really hope in EP 13 that comes back I wanna know.) And like,, the way Matt describes things, the fact that Marisha accidentally foreshadows the whole thing?? I am DYING to know what’s going on. Im so curious. Matt drags not opy the players (with characters who are invested) but he immediately drags the Audi in with him. I wanna know what’s up!! What the fuck!! What the hell!! What the HECKIN!! so.

im gonna go find out what the HECKIN, n I’m gonna start ep 13 despite the late hour. hopefully the next Critical Reaction won’t take, u know,,, five months. :) :) :)

#critical role #cr caleb #cr nott #cr mollymauk #cr fjord #cr jester #cr beauregard #critical reactions #meta...?? I guess??#does this count as #critical role meta #?

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al1studies · 7 years

Text

question tag

hey!! i was tagged by @sakura-studyblr to answer these questions about myself <3 under the cut!

i’m tagging some new mutuals who i’d love to get to know, but of course you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to! (and if you’ve done it already, send me the link!) @martiestudies @fsstudies @m1n4 @babypandii-studyblr @astrnomy

LAST:

1. Drink: decaf mocha frap

2. Phone call: o wow i don’t even know? probably my doctor. i don’t make a lot of phone calls

3. Text message: the soonseok net group chat

4. Song you listened to: aju nice by seventeen :’))) i was having a throwback party while i was driving lmao and that was the first song i ever listened to by them!

5. Time you cried: last monday or tuesday? i’d reached out to an old good friend of mine after we ended on questionable terms 4 years ago and she responded and i sobbed for 45 minutes sdjfsjd (and we’ve been talking every day since)

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: i’ve never dated but tbh i’d probably do this bc i’m a gemini

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: i’ve never kissed someone! 0:

8. Been cheated on: soonseok cheat on me with each other every day

9. Lost someone special: yeah

10. Been depressed: bitch i’m depressed all day every day

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: nope!

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12. hmmm, light blue, millennial pink, and bright yellow!

13. o frick i did this wrong

14. ^

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: yes!

16. Fallen out of love: i fall in and out of love every single day at least once blame it on the cancer moon, gemini sun combo

17. Laughed until you cried: ya my dude

18. Found out someone was talking about you: not exactly but me and the captain of my mock trial team found out these members were talking shit abt how we were running things and the cap called them out y*kes

19. Met someone who changed you: of course!

20. Found out who your friends are: this is too deep, pls it’s 1:23 p.m.

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: nope!

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: i don’t use fb anymore so idk

23. Do you have any pets: yes! i have a shih-tzu called cupcake and a cat called riesling and i love them with all my heart

24. Do you want to change your name: mmmm kind of, i love my name but sometimes it’s not gender neutral enough for me

25. What did you do for your last Birthday: my best friends threw me a surprise party and we watched john tucker must die :’)

26. What time did you wake up: i woke up once at 7 then went back to sleep for another 3 hours

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: i was reading fanfiction i think???

28. Name something you can’t wait for: SEVENTEEN IN CHICAGO

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: 20 minutes ago

30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: my birthday. listen i know that’s weird but listen, if The Mother would’ve just held it in for another 16 hours, i would share a birthday with KWON SOONYOUNG instead of donald trump.

31. What are you listening to right now: nothing, cafe sounds around me i guess lol

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: i live in The Rurals, of course i have

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: humans

34. Most visited websites: ao3, tumblr, twitter, google drive

35. Mole/s: ya

36. Mark/s: a ton! i’m freckled as frick, n i have this cute mark on the side of my wrist and one on my right boob l o l

37. Childhood dream: i wanted to be a vet for a long time but then it switched to writer

38. Hair color: dark, almost-black brown

39. Long or short hair: neither?? it’s like a little past my shoulders

40. Do you have a crush on someone: no comment

41. What do you like about yourself: im gay

42. Piercings: just the standard ear ones!

43. Blood type: i don’t know djfdjsfajd

44. Nickname: cam, cami, millie

45. Relationship status: in love with lee seokmin

46. Zodiac: gem sun, cancer moon, cancer rising, cancer dominant

47. Pronouns: they/she, i fluctuate b/w what i prefer a lot so they/them is probably safe but if we’re good friends you can use she/her!

48. Favorite TV show: stranger things, scream mtv, how to get away with murder

49. Tattoos: none but i might get one that says “As Hasari” (to heal) in victoria schwab’s handwriting on my wrist!

50. Right or left hand: right

51. Surgery: do wisdom teeth count

52. Hair dyed in different color: nope

53. Sport: i don’t play but i watch a lot of tennis. serena, venus, and muguruza are my queens

54. same

55. Vacation: philippines :( the motherland

56. Pair of trainers: i’m wearing adidas gazelles rn

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: a bagel with creme cheese

58. Drinking: coffee atm but i’d rather be drinking tea

59. I’m about to: get shit done at the bookstore café

61. Waiting for: my depression to take a frickin hike

62. Want: seventeen hitouch tickets

63. Get married: yes!!! one day, and this song will be my first dance

64. Career: i don’t really want to do just one thing! i’d like to be an editor for a publishing company at some point, but i’d also love to teach english abroad (asia, preferably PH bc i want to give back to my mother country) or work in google’s secret lab where i know they’re making that shit you only see in sci-fi movies

65. Hugs or kisses: both!!

66. Lips or eyes: sdjfasjdfjdfj lips tbh. i love a man/woman with nice lips

67. Shorter or taller: taller!

68. Older or younger: older just bc i’m 18 and would never date a minor or someone in high school lol

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: dksfsjdf i don’t really know but i love soft tummies and soft arms?? i’m not rly into super ripped/muscly guys (girls, on the other hand...)

71. Sensitive or loud: i mean u can be both

72. Hook up or relationship: i would say hook up but i know i would catch feelings so .. relationship

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: ehhh for a significant other?? not really either, i wouldn’t date someone who gets me into too much trouble but i also wouldn’t date someone who can’t live a little

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a Stranger: no!

75. Drank hard liquor: nope

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: lmao every day my dude

77. Turned someone down: yes

78. Sex on the first date: i probably would, but i haven’t

79. Broken someone’s heart: i hope not??? djfjasdf

80. Had your heart broken: nope, i’m dead inside

81. Been arrested: no thank god, i’d probably have a nervous breakdown, not because of the police, but because my filipino mother would skin me alive

82. Cried when someone died: yeah

83. Fallen for a friend: NO DHJFAHSDFHSHF

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: i mean .. sometimes

85. Miracles: yes

86. Love at first sight: ehhh no

87. Santa Claus: no

88. Kiss on the first date: yea, that’s how you know whether or not to keep them (i’m mostly joking but also kind of not)

OTHER:

90. Current best friend name: megan, emily, zoe

91. Eye color: brown, basically black

92. Favorite movie: inside out and crazy stupid love :(( i can’t decide !!

#tag game #about me #<3

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thumper-darling · 7 years

Note

Will you send 65 questions my way?

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Oh my gOD YES. What if there is no life apart from my own and every person I come into contact with is just a highly thought out illusion in my head and nothing is real?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

2. It definitely depends on where I am when it is dark? Like, I’m not going to be scared when it’s dark in my bedroom because I’m comfortable there, but I’m gonna be heckin terrified of the dark if I’m in the woods? You feel me?

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Ronald J. Stump

4. What is your favorite word?

Cluster or Truffle

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

Birch tree binch

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

“Wow, I really let myself go” :’)

But no, I thought about how I have mascara rings under my eyes but haven’t worn mascara in 2 days and I have for sure showered since then so why in the frickin heck do I have mascara marks under my eyes?

7. What shirt are you wearing?

An old man’s sweater that I thrifted

8. What do you label yourself as?

Interesting? Adventurous? Quirky? I don’t know, what do you label me as?

9. Bright room or dark room?

Dim room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Being bullied by @parkersenses

Nah, but I was actually having a deep conversation with my little step-sister about life and school advice.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Lulu @doctormelapples

13. Your worst enemy?

McDonald J. Rump

14. What is your current desktop picture?

….

a racecar…

15. Do you like someone?

I really like my doggo

16. The last song you listened to?

Adolescent by Lostboycrow

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

I could never hurt somebody, no way. like, how do you expect me to deal with that radical guilt. my conscience is way too pure for that.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

I would rather not punch people in the face? Does it count if I answer with who I would like to punch me in the face?

19. If anyone could be your servant for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

Um, I would want to have Harrison Osterfield be my “assistant” for a day. I would literally just have them hang out with me because I need friendship to thrive

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My eyes? or my freckles, even if they are faint

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I don’t heckin know what I would look like. Like me but more testosterone? I would like to just live my everyday life, but observe the differences from male and female treatment that’s incorporated in our society.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

I can juggle really terribly

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

I’m not afraid of anything

the past coming back to haunt me

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Bagel for bread, jalapeno cream cheese, lettuce, tomato, smoked turkey, and havarti cheese

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Either on a tattoo, or put it in my college savings. But probably on a tattoo because I have no financial security.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

Montreal Canada binch. Okay no, but probably like NYC or LA or something super stereotypical like that.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

Mike’s Hard Lemonade for decades. honestly, I love lemonade and those drinks are so heckin tasty.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

You have a right to your own opinion, until it infringes on the basic human rights of others. Then ur fined and thrown in jail for being a rude ass disrespectful person thx.

29. What is your favorite expletive?

fuck

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My book “The Perks of Being A Wallflower”

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

The drama that went down with my family last summer and earlier this year

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Oooh, maybe London or Barcelona? Or Italy. OH ITALY WOULD BE WONDERFUL

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

There was a girl who got into a car accident a few weeks ago, I didn’t know her, but I do know that she was 18 and had just graduated Valedictorian of her class. She had a full ride to college, so I think I would bring her back.

34. What was your last dream about?

A hotel room

35. Are you a good….dancer?

THE ANSWER TO THAT IS YES

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

Ah yes

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Not well

38. What is the color of your socks?

White.

39. What type of music do you like?

All of it idk

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

sunrises

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Vanilla

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

I don’t know, Michigan State

43. Do you have any scars?

I have a few from accidents when I was younger. I’m a clumsy oof

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

After I graduate college I’d like to be involved with writing somehow. I really want to work on films or work with manuscripts.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I’d like to be a more energized person

46. Are you reliable?

I like to think so

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Are you happy with your life?

48. Do you hold grudges?

I really try not to. I don’t like to hold on to hatred or anger.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

A fox and a golden retriever? That’d be a fun mix

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

I once had a conversation with someone about who had cooler socks? And kept sending pics to each other of our goofy sock collection. That was a strange one.

51. Are you a good liar?

God, I hope so

52. How long could you go without talking?

I once went 24 hours without talking, soooo

53. What has been your worst haircut/style?

I LET MY FRIENDS CUT MY HAIR THE SUMMER BEFORE MY SOPHOMORE YEAR AND I ENDED UP WITH A CHERRY RED ASYMMETRICAL BOB AND IT WAS WAY TOO SHORT FOR MY FACE SHAPE AND IT WAS AWFUL

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

I cheated and did like an eggless cake or something like that?

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Hecking, no. Accents are not my strong suit

56. What do you like on your toast?

Peanut butter or butter with cinnamon sugar

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

a little doodled heart probs

58. What would be you dream car?

Ford fiesta? Idk

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I sing in the shower when nobody else is home. That’s about it.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

YES It is literally impossible that we are the only living and thriving society in the entire universe? Like?? The possibilities are endless.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

Not always, but if it pops up on my dash I’ll look at it

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

S or T

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Dragons! Was that even a question

64. What do you think about babies?

I get nervous around babies. They’re such small, delicate humans and I feel too much responsibility being around babies.

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

You didn’t ask anything, so I’ll just tell you about my day?? I had a college freshman event today and I met some pretty cool people and it has me less worried about starting college. I also think I’m gonna read and write a bit today, so I’m pretty excited about that. Also, my mom comes back from out of town in an hour or so and I can’t wait to see her.

#Get to know me #ask

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kpopfanfictrash · 8 years

Text

Control

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Mark

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 4,448

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you accidentally text the wrong number for advice. The guy on the other end of the phone is abrupt, harsh and kind of an ass - but he also happens to be right. Which explains why you keep texting him. Right?

“537. 555. 2469.”

Finishing typing the digits into your phone, you look up. “Got it. Still can’t believe you dropped your phone in the toilet.”

“Yeah, well.” Jen frowns, leaning into the mirror. “Don’t keep your phone in your back pocket.”

“Life lessons from Jen,” you deadpan, sliding your straightener over your hair. Bumping your roommate in the hip, you grin. “But really. That burner phone looks terrible.”

“What, this red Envy from my high school days? Top line technology, Y/N.”

“Obviously.”

“I can type AND flip it open. How many phones do you know that can do that?”

“Zero. Actually zero.”

Jennifer gives her hair a final fluff before facing you. “Just two more days until my new phone ships.”

“Thank god. So how do I look?”

Jen eyes you up and down. “Stunning. Ravishing. The boys will be eating out of your hand.”

You laugh as you straighten your top. “Too much, even for you,” you scold, leaving the bathroom as Jen’s laughter follows you down the hall.

You and Jen have been friends since college, ever since you spilled your drink at a bar and Jen was there to pull you aside, insisting some random guy pushed you. After that you were inseparable, even after college it was the same – except now you’re roommates, living out your struggles while simultaneously navigating the waters of early twenties-dom.

Today is Friday and after a long work week you’re finally ready to let loose. Or at least, Jen is. You’re the one being dragged along, despite your ardent desire to stay in and watch West World with a bottle of wine.

This, however was deemed by Jen as ‘anti-social.’

So here you are, dressed in your heels and a tight skirt. Ready to take the town by storm. Or at least Blackbird – the club you’ve settled on for the night. As you enter you scan the crowd, shoving your nervous butterflies into the pit of your stomach.

Jake is supposed to be here tonight. Jake - the incredibly attractive and incredibly elusive boy you’ve been seeing.

Well, seeing is a strong word.

You two went on one date and it’s been days since you’ve heard from him. As you reach the bar you pull out his last message, hoping to decipher something between the vaguely worded texts you’ve yet to see.

Y/N: Hey! I had fun last night. Let me know if you want to do it again sometime. [11:50 AM]

Jake: Hey, me too. Would love to see you again, let’s talk later this week about details? [12:10 PM]

You: Great :) [12:12 PM]

Two days later.

You: Hey :) [2:01 PM]

Re-reading your text, you cringe at the double smiley. Just like you did Tuesday, moments after sending it. The next text is a little more heart-lifting.

Jake: Hey [2:29 PM]

You: So there’s an art exhibit this weekend I think you’d enjoy. Want to come with me? [2:31 PM]

Jake: I already have plans this weekend. But rain check? [2:55 PM]

No response from you after that. Even with a guy as cute as Jake, you can take the hint. But then he texted earlier, wanting to know what your plans were for tonight.

Jake: Hey, Y/N. I told friends I’d meet them later but was hoping to see you too. Any chance you’ll be at Blackbird tonight? [4:05 PM]

You: I think I could be persuaded. See you there [4:08 PM]

So now you hold your phone in one hand, scanning the bar for his familiar face. Dark brown hair, killer green eyes. A combination designed to scramble thoughts. Smart, too. Jake owns his own consulting business while somehow managing to keep up charity work on the weekends. That’s right, charity work - mostly at the local children’s hospital.

And there he is now.

Your heart flutters, only to stutter when you realize he’s not alone. The girl’s back is towards you, so you can’t see what she looks like but if her legs are anything to go off of, she’s gorgeous. Jake leans in close - too close to be just friends.

All of a sudden the space inside this club seems very small. The room is too hot and you don’t know where to look. You end up slipping your hand in Jen’s, pleased when she tugs you towards the bar.

“Come on,” Jen sniffs, having seen the whole exchange as she glares in Jake’s direction. “Let’s go get you a shot.”

Five tequila shots later, the room spins in a peachy fuzz of alcohol. Better than focusing on Jake, at least and you head onto the dance floor, swaying your hips and trying to pretend that you’ve forgotten all about what’s-his-face.

A hand taps you on the shoulder.

“Yeah?” You turn, freezing when you come face to face with tousled hair and a mega-watt smile.

Jake stands right before you. “I’ve been searching for you.”

“Not very hard, it seems.” Frowning, you turn to leave as his hand closes around your upper wrist. “Hey!” you gasp, yanking your arm free.

Jake lets you go, holding up both hands. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, gaze roaming your face. “I wish I could be at that art exhibit tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, even though it does.

Jake touches your hand, fingers soft against your skin and you suddenly are having a hard time staying mad.

“It does matter,” he says solemnly. “I really am sorry – I just have to be at the hospital first thing in the morning.”

You turn towards him. Maybe if you were less drunk, you’d realize that this doesn’t make a lot of sense. If Jake has to be at the hospital first thing in the morning, why is he at a club in Midtown past midnight? But you’re not thinking too clearly right now, and his excuse is just enough to appease your anger.

“Oh,” you say, the word coming out small.

Jake steps closer. “I feel I should stay longer,” he muses. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen these friends. But I was wondering… Nah, never mind.”

“What?” you ask, leaning in.

Jake shakes his head. “I was just wondering if you wanted to get a cup of coffee tonight? I know it’s late and a bit crazy, but…” He trails off, unsure.

Blinking up at him, you nod. “I’d like that.”

“Great.” He smiles down at you. “Well, I’m going to go back to my friends. But I’ll come over in a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Slightly dazed from the conversation, you watch him go. Sliding in and out of dancers until he disappears from view.

Your head spins from both the conversation and your alcohol and once Jake is out of sight, the music seems to surge around you. The bodies of dancers swallowing you until suddenly you’re overwhelmed. Closing both eyes, you push towards the edge of the dance floor.

You need Jen. She’ll be able to tell you what to do because right now, the whole club is spinning and it’s probably not a good idea to go home with anyone.

But Jake isn’t just anyone.

You scan the floor. No Jen. Fingers fumbling, you pull out your phone, scrolling through contacts for her burner number.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you grumble, facing away from the noise. Jen doesn’t answer though – unable to hear over the sound of the club. Defeated, you pull back your phone and type instead.

Y/N: So Jake found me. [12:03 AM]

You pause, thinking about what to say..

Y/N: He said he’s sorry for msising the art thing but wants to get coffee. I’m kind of drunk so idk?? I knw he blew me off but it was bc of that thing at the children’s hospital : / and he seems like he actualy wants to see me … idk what do I do HELP [12:05 AM]

You press send.

A response doesn’t come right away so you wait. Continuing to search the dance floor for Jen’s signature curly hair. Until your phone chimes in your hand.

555-8924: I think you have the wrong number. [12:07 AM]

Fuck. Scowling down at the still-blinking ellipses, your face heats up. Jen must have put in the wrong number – now how are you going to find her? Also - how wildly embarrassing. You just rambled on like a drunken moron to a total stranger.

Your phone chimes again.

555-8924: But seeing as I’m awake and feeling particularly generous – one hundred percent no, you should not get coffee with him. Are you insane? [12:08 AM]

You stare back at the response, black and white, and a tiny bubble of anger appears in your stomach. You type, fingers flying over the keyboard since you’re too drunk to care how you come across.

Y/N: Oh, really? What makes you – a cmplete stranger – think u know me? [12:10 AM]

555-8924: Lol. I know you. [12:11 AM]

You bristle when his or her ellipses continue to pulse. Ding.

555-8924: But more importantly I know him. I’m a guy. And I can recognize a tragic situation when I see one. [12:12 AM]

You gasp, past caring if anyone hears.

Y/N: Tragic? Well, fuck you. [12:13 AM]

He doesn’t respond. You collapse into the closest booth, staring down at your screen until your anger fades and eventually, your curiosity gets the best of you.

Y/N: But … say I did value your opinion. Why shouldn’t I get coffee with him? [12:14 AM]

When the ellipses re-appear, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

555-8924: Well. First off – a children’s hospital? Sounds too good to be true. Second. Coffee after midnight? There’s only one thing that guy wants and it’s not coffee. [12:16 AM]

You blush, almost missing his next text.

555-8924: And three – you said so yourself, this guy blew you off. Why would you give him the opportunity to do it again? [12:16 AM]

You stare at your phone. He’s right. Whomever he is, he’s right. Jake is just trying to hook up. And… as much as you want that, you also want more. Which doesn’t seem to be the case for him.

Y/N: I hate to admit, seing as you’re a dick and all but you have a point. [12:17 AM]

555-8924: Hahaha [12:18 AM]

The guy texts back laughter, typing each ha. It makes you grin, chuckling when your phone dings again.

555-8924: Okay, maybe I was being harsh. [12:19 AM]

Y/N: Harsh is the Sahara. Harsh is the Amazon rain forest. Calling a girl tragic on a Friday night is nothing short of savage. [12:20 AM]

555-8924: You’re right, who am I to judge? You’re probably not tragic. Just hopelessly naïve [12:21 AM]

Y/N: Well, you’re too cynical! [12:21 AM]

Oh, crap. What are you doing? Wincing, you set your phone in your lap. This guy isn’t going to respond. He definitely won’t respond. He – ding.

555-8924: How did you know what my friends call me? Birth name Mark, ‘Cynical’ for those in the know. [12:23 AM]

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard.

Y/N: Hi, Mark. I’m Y/N. Thanks for talking to me. [12:25 AM]

There’s a long pause before your phone dings again.

555-8924: Pleasure’s all mine. [12:27 AM]

“Y/N!”

Your gaze shoots up, happy to see Jen pushing through the crowd of people. When she reaches your side she sits, smelling of sweat and perfume.

“Are you ready to go?” she asks. “This place is one spilled drink away from Hot Mess central, destination: Not Good.”

Laughing, you push yourself to stand. “I’m ready.” You slip your purse over your shoulder, wobbling just a little bit. “I’ll call an Uber?”

Jen nods, looping her hand in yours. “Did I see you talking to Jake earlier?”

“Ugh,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “He wanted to get coffee later tonight.”

“Oh, really?” Jen laughs. “Translation: BOOTY CALL.”

You flush, remembering Mark’s similar assessment. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. I’m not going.”

“Of course not.” Jen squeezes your arm. “You’re worth so much more, sweetie. He’ll realize that soon.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

As you leave, you glance over your shoulder. Without really meaning to, you find Jake’s gaze. His face lights up, mouth opening until he notices your purse on your shoulder. His gaze darkens, falling when you slowly shake your head.

And then you leave, disappearing out the door. Feeling oddly lighter than when you entered.

The next morning you wake to a banner headache. Groaning, you clutch your comforter tighter and squint at the clock on your nightstand.

9:04 am.

You can sleep for a while longer. Rolling over, you nestle into your blankets and … remember last night. Your eyes shoot open. All the memories of the club come crashing down as you groan.

You almost went home with Jake. The memory of that stupid pick-up line hits you like a ton of bricks.

“If you wanted to get a cup of coffee? I know it’s late and a little crazy, but…”

Thank god you didn’t go.

You sit up, hastily grabbing your phone to scroll through your texts. Your heart hammers when you see them - when you remember your virtual love doctor. Wincing at all the spelling errors, you groan out loud. Falling back and clsoing your eyes when you read the part about telling Mark to go fuck himself.

That’s his name – Mark.

After simmering in embarrassment for several minutes, you decide to send him an apology. He seems nice and you were being drunk and incoherent. The least you can do is apologize.

After several minutes of typing, you have the following:

Y/N: Hi, Mark. This is Y/N from last night. I woke up to these texts and wanted to say sorry. I’m normally not that drunk. Or rude. The naïveté still stands though, so thanks for calling me out on that. Anyways, you don’t have to respond to this but I wanted to apologize now that I’m sober. [9:10 AM]

You press send, setting your phone back on your table and flopping onto your pillows. Mark probably won’t respond. Why would he, after last night?

Ding.

Mark: Hi, Y/N from last night. Don’t worry about it – you were the most entertainment I’ve had in a while. [9:13 AM]

You sit up, slowly typing back your response.

Y/N: Glad to hear my dating woes amuse you. Got any advice for a continually tragic case such as myself? [9:15 AM]

Mark: Well first off, don’t tell him that.[9:16 AM]

Y/N: Noted. [9:16 AM]

Mark: Second, play hard to get. Did you talk to him before leaving last night? [9:17 AM]

You remember looking at Jake - but you left without a word.

Y/N: No. We made eye contact but I didn’t say anything – I just left. [9:18 AM]

Mark: Haha good. He’ll probably text today, wondering why you didn’t go home with him. [9:19 AM]

You almost laugh – like it’s that easy.

Y/N: Riiight. [9:20 AM]

Y/N: I’ll be sure to let you know when that happens. Don’t hold your breath. [9:21 AM]

Mark: I’m just saying. Guys can be dicks but we’re predictable dicks. We want what we can’t have. [9:22 AM]

Y/N: How pessimistic of you. Who died and made you love doctor? [9:23 AM]

Mark: You did, when you asked me for advice.[9:24 AM]

Snorting, you tap your fingers against your legs. He’s right.

Y/N: Fine. I’ll let you know when Jake comes banging on my door. [9:25 AM]

Mark: Good. I actually have to go – work – but keep me updated, Y/N. Cynical might be my middle name, but I’m a sucker for a happy ending. [9:27 AM]

You throw your phone back on your comforter and sigh, stretching your arms overhead. For some reason there’s a smile on your face when you get up out of bed.

Around 6:00 your phone dings.

Jake.

Your eyes move to the previous thread – re-reading Mark’s smug assurance that Jake would text before the day was up. How the hell did he know? You open Jake’s text, eyebrows rising when you see a photo of him crouched beside a girl in a hospital bed. Jake is holding a picture book and smiling ear to ear.

Jake: Hey, Y/N! Sorry if I came on too strong last night. I realized this morning that I was out of line and wanted apologize. This is Melissa, we’re reading Clifford the Big Red Dog (see? I really did have charity work). Anyways. All of this is a rather long way of asking if we could set a time for that second date of ours? [6:03 PM]

You stare at his words. Without really knowing why, you find yourself texting Mark.

Y/N: You’re not going to believe who just texted me. [6:05 PM]

The phone dings almost immediately.

Mark: Let me guess. Coffee jackass? [6:06 PM]

Laughing, you bite your lip to keep from grinning.

You screenshot Jake’s message and picture, sending both to Mark.

Y/N: Bingo. What should I say? [6:07 PM]

There’s a long pause, and you’re about to message him again when your phone dings.

Mark: Do you like this guy, Y/N? [6:09 PM]

His question gives you pause. Jake is kind, nice and smart. Maybe not the easiest to read and he doesn’t always get your sense of humor – but then, who’s perfect?

Y/N: Yes. [6:10 PM]

Mark: Okay. Then respond, but keep it casual. Let him know you’re interested but don’t be the one to set the time and place. Make sure you stay in control. [6:13 PM]

You nod. Stay in control. You can do that.

Y/N: A date? What did you have in mind? [6:14 PM]

Jake: Dinner. The two of us. Next Friday night. [6:15 PM]

Your eyebrows shoot up.

You: It’s a date. [6:17 PM]

Hardly able to believe your luck, you fingers fly to Mark.

Y/N: We’re going to dinner next Friday. Can you believe? Thank you!! [6:18 PM]

Mark’s response is slower this time.

Mark: You’re welcome. Have a good time, Y/N [6:20 PM]

You set down your phone, glancing at your kitchen as you rub your eyes. Looking around, you realize that Jake has never been inside your apartment. When you two went out last time, he picked you up outside. Texted he was here and waited in the driveway.

He didn’t even come to the door, now that you think of it. Had the situation been reversed, you would have wanted to see his house. You would have wanted to know about his life.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re typing another message.

Y/N: So Mark. Just out of curiosity, let’s say you were going on a date. Let’s say you picked her up at her house. How would you let her know you were there? [6:25 PM]

Mark: Huh? [6:27 PM]

Y/N: Like, would you honk the horn? Give her a call? Throw a rock at her window? [6:28 PM]

Mark: Haha I would go to her door. Maybe I’m nosy, but I think a person’s house says a lot about them. [6:29 PM]

A tingle trails the base of your spine.

Y/N: Really? How so? [6:30 PM]

It’s a long minute before your phone dings again.

Mark: I don’t know, a lot of ways. Take me, okay? My home is spotless but that’s only because I work a lot. I spend most of my nights here at the fire station, sleeping in bunk beds. [6:32 PM]

Your eyebrows rise. That wasn’t the profession you would have guessed.

Y/N: So that explains why you were up at one in the morning, answering my drunk texts. [6:34 PM]

Mark: Exactly. I’m a firefighter with a hero complex. Show me a basket case about to go home with a jerk and I’ll send you sassy texts, filled with vaguely disparaging remarks about how you’re better than that. [6:36 PM]

You laugh out loud, just as Jen enters the kitchen. Her gaze flickers to the phone in your hand.

“Oo, did Jake finally text back?”

A flush stains your cheeks. “Uh, yeah. He did.”

Jumping up, Jen claps her hands together. “That’s so exciting! Are you two going out?” She starts to open up kitchen cabinets, pulling down a can of soup and a bowl.

“Yeah, next Friday night.”

Jen turns, fixing you with an oddly critical stare. “You don’t seem that excited about it.”

“I am!” you protest, smiling to hide your confusion. “I just – I’m hungover still.”

Jen makes a whoops face. “Oh, shit. I guess for future reference – five tequila shots are too many for you.”

As you slide your cell phone into your pocket, you laugh. “Five tequila shots are too many for any human, not just me, Jen.”

You’re not sure why you don’t tell Jen about Mark.

That night you’re lying in bed, trying to decide what to wear on Friday when - ding.

Mark: So you never told me what you do for a living. [10:11 PM]

Your stomach flutters. Mark.

Y/N: Marketing. Product testing for a local company. Nothing quite as gallant as fire-fighting. [10:12 PM]

Mark: Ah, yes. I often feel so gallant putting on canvas colored overalls. The sexiest though, is when sweat just pours down my face and pools in my jacket. That’s the pinnacle. [10:14 PM]

Y/N: Hot. [10:14 PM]

Mark: *Groans* I hope you didn’t mean that as a pun. [10:15 PM]

You laugh, surprised he understood.

Y/N:… shh, you don’t know me [10:16 PM]

Mark: Apparently I do. But actually I’ve always found marketing interesting. The concept is very psychological. [10:17 PM]

Y/N: Ding, ding, ding! I was, indeed a Psych major in college. [10:18 PM]

Mark: Let’s play a game, then. [10:19 PM]

Y/N: What kind of game? [10:20 PM]

Mark: I want to guess what your apartment looks like based on your profession. [10:21 PM]

You laugh, quieting as your gaze moves to the hall. You don’t want to wake up Jen up. Texting back, you grin.

Y/N: Go on. [10:22 PM]

Mark: You have plants. [10:22 PM]

Y/N: Well, that’s not hard. Most people have plants. [10:23 PM]

Mark: I don’t. [10:24 PM]

Y/N: Most people with hearts have plants. [10:24 PM]

Mark: Ouch. You wound me. Y/N. You also have Christmas lights wrapped someplace they shouldn’t be even though Christmas is long gone. [10:25 PM]

You blush remembering the plant you and Jen have strung with twinkling white lights. It’s left in your kitchen year-round as a sort of night light.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll give you that one. [10:26 PM]

Mark: You have too many pillows and blankets. Enough that were we so inclined, we could make a blanket fort. [10:27 PM]

For some reason, Mark’s use of the word we makes your heart pound. This is silly, you think. Setting your phone down to rub at your temples. You don’t know Mark. You don’t know what he looks like. He could be old or balding or have a giant, hook nose.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re typing again.

Y/N: How old are you? [10:29 PM]

Mark’s ellipses blink. Pause. Blink again.

Mark: Is this because of the blanket fort thing? I’m twenty five. You? [10:30 PM]

Y/N: Twenty four. [10:31 PM]

Mark: Okay, so now that we’ve established we’re both in our mid-twenties, will you please confirm or deny the blankets thing. [10:32 PM]

You laugh out loud, realizing that this is the most you’ve laughed in a while. Especially over a guy.

Y/N: You’re right. Screw the fort, I have enough blankets to make a whole house. [10:33 PM]

As your phone chimes, you settle down into your sheets. Somehow between one comment and the next, you don’t end up falling asleep until much, much later that night.

“So you and this guy have just been … texting?” Jen sounds skeptical.

Fighting back your blush, you take a long sip of your drink. “Yeah. I mean, it’s no big deal.”

Her eyebrows shoot higher. “If it’s not a big deal, why haven’t you told Jake?”

She has a point. It’s been three weeks since your second date with Jake and now you’re ‘officially dating.’ His words, not yours. You still haven’t quite forgotten Mark’s original advice:

Make sure you stay in control.

Still, you shift beneath Jen’s gaze. “It’s just … the timing has never been great.”

“In three weeks?” Jen laughs. “I don’t know, Y/N. When is the right time to say, hey you only started dating me because this guy told me what to do. Oh, and we still talk every day. Every night. Literally all the time. But hey! No big deal.”

Your cheeks are crimson. “It’s not every day,” you grumble.

Jen grabs your phone, swiping right to punch in your code before you can protest. “Aha!”

“I never should have told you my password,” you sigh, sinking into your seat.

“One new message from Mark!” Jen exclaims, clearing her throat. “Jackson brought home a blanket and I blame you. Why? Because I told him you had enough for a fort and now he’s concerned our apartment isn’t inviting enough. He’s now trying to make our place ‘livable.’ Please send help.”

Jen arches her eyebrows over the top of your phone.

“Give me that,” you say, snatching your phone from her hand.

“He sounds cute.” Jen’s mouth curves upwards. “Is he cute?”

“I don’t know,” you say stiffly, shoving you phone in your pocket.

“Oh, please.” Jen pushes her hair back. “You’re telling me you’ve been texting this guy for weeks and have yet to find out what he looks like?”

Sinking even further into your chair, you mumble, “I decided I don’t want to know.”

Jen stares at you like you’re crazy. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to get too involved”

“Too involved?” Her eyes widen. “I got news, honey. This is the definition of involved. You talk to Mark more than you do to your boyfriend, Jake. Oh – did you forget about him?”

“Jake and I just started dating,” you explain, not quite able to meet her gaze. “It’s not like we’re married or something.”

“Right.” Jen’s expression softens. “I get it – Mark is sweet and funny and interesting. But he’s a phantom, babe. Someone who only exists on paper. If you met in real life, it would be just as awkward and unsure as any other guy. Like Jake.”

“What?” Your gaze shoots to hers. “I like Jake!”

“You do. But not enough to stop texting Mark.”

This shuts you up and you lean back, considering. Groaning, when you bury your face in your arms. “Oh, god,” you moan. “You’re right. What’s wrong with me? Jake is gorgeous and I’ve wanted him since forever. Why can’t I just be happy?”

“Beats me.”

When you swat at Jen, she laughs.

“Okay,” you say, sitting up straight. “I’ll stop texting Mark. Focus on Jake.”

“Good.” A small, but evil grin spreads across Jen’s face. “And I’ll just … find out what Mark looks like because it’s literally killing me.”

“Jen!” You protest, grabbing for her hand but she’s too fast. Jen is already typing, searching through Google.

“He has our area code,” she muses. “So he must be a local fire fighter.” Your best friend squints at her phone, smacking your hand when you reach across the table.

“Jen.” Giving up, you sink down into your arms again. “I don’t want to know.”

Until she utters a soft swear. “Holy shit.”

“What?” you say, concerned as you peep through your fingertips. “What is it?”

Wordlessly, Jen turns her phone around. “Why are you the fucking luckiest girl on earth?”

Your mouth drops.

[Master List]

Author’s Note: 500 notes! Thank you so, so much for reading. Please enjoy parts II and III at the Master List above.

#mark tuan #got7 mark #mark got7 #got7 fanfic #mark tuan fanfic #got7 mark fanfic #mark tuan fic #got7 fic #got7 mark fic #Control #mark tuan fluff #mark tuan angst #got7 mark fluff #got7 mark angst

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2centsofsilver · 7 years

Text

12/4/17 - U of M

I'm here today. Sitting on the futon at CAPS. I'm waiting for a massage chair. I just high-tailed it like a mad woman out of the SSW. Kathryn Irish walked out the front entrance with me while I looked straight ahead. "I'm just gonna look straight ahead," I said "Not looking at anybody." "I do that too sometimes," she said. I gulped. We opened the door, passed through the upstairs commons, infiltrated with students in chairs. I looked ahead and then downward. Who recognized me? Surely they knew me.

We walked out the front door. We thanked each other for meeting and then we split. I high-tailed it down South University, faster than normal, because my heartbeat was pounding. "Who can see me? I hope they saw me with Kathryn Irish. I hope they didn't see me. I hope they're watching."

I walked fast, harder, harder. I had my stomach sucked in, flaunting my black feather Carly, teal Lindsey, and black scarf. I had done my makeup extra beautiful and straightened my newly colored hair dyed pink, red, orange, and purple. I had my hippie purse swung over my left shoulder, carrying my black winter coat in my left arm, laptop bag swung over left shoulder. No sunglasses today - facing the sun with pride.

Approaching the Law School, I look to my right. Along the sidewalk near the Art Museum, I see a bright green coat. They're walking with someone. "Anyone could have that coat," I tell myself. "Could be anyone."

They're walking across the pedestrian crosswalk of State St, turning into South U, same side of the road I'm on. She's walking with an African American girl. Green coat and Jahda. I was right. Savannah and Jahda. "What are you going to do?" I thought. "This is good," I thought. "All you wanted was for her to see you, run into you, see you doing well and thriving," I thought. "We're just gonna take it as it comes."

I look up, surely they see me. I look down toward my phone. Start randomly swiping. They are closer. I look up. They're smiling, so I smile. "This may be okay," I said to myself. "Savannah's smiling at me even though she's not talking to me."

"Hi Friend!" Jahda calls out. "Heyyyy!" I said, still walking with Katie-Class. We all come to a slowed halt.

"I like your hair!" Jahda yells. That made me feel good. "Thanks!" I smiled. I glanced at them both. Jahda was talking and I didn't mean to, but my panic started inadvertently toning her out. "What do I do?" I thought. Big frog in throat. Gulping. Dry throat. Can't swallow.

"Savannah."

She looks up at me, sincerely.

"Can we talk."

She's looking at me.

"Please."

She's looking at me.

"I'll send you a message," she says.

I look at her, never dropping eye contact.

"In person," I say. "Please."

It was like my world, everything going on around the outside world had froze. I wasn't breathing. I was looking at her, hoping. Praying.

She looked away, up, and around, thinking, pondering, giving in.

"I'll send you a message about scheduling a time to meet."

BOOM.

Glory!

I smiled. "Ok!" I said. I was radiating.

I put up my hands, slowly nodded, pausing the conversation briefly -

".... At, your, own, convenience. Your own space. I know you're busy."

"I'm so busy," she said. "This time in the semester, everything is crazy right now..."

"I know. I know. Everyone, is telling me all about it. I know."

There was a pause. I looked at them both. I can't remember if anything more was said. I began starting to get ready to walk again, shuffled my stuff. They started walking a few steps too. I turned around.

Like old times, I go, "I just met with Kathryn Irish!" Savannah gave me a look. Her usual look. That look we both share for Kathryn Irish like, "Wtf. Oh god."

"For 2 hours!" I shout.

Intensified look. Mouth open, rolling her eyes.

I think we all said bye and maybe, "We'll talk soon."

I continued to high-tail it. I was happy, yet distressed, knowing there's still a high chance to receive a message like, "Listen Katie. I don't think it's a good idea to talk in person. I think you're a great person, but we need to be done."

I also knew that her wanting to originally message would ABSOLUTELY yield that. But I hope she's willing to give me a chance.

I was crying in my car on the way here; well, on the way to the park-and-ride; over messages received this morning from someone else, after staying up till midnight writing an amazing letter and sending it in faith.

I talked to Rachel till nearly 2-3am. She asked if I've ever considered CoDa - Codependents Anonymous. I said I hadn't heard of it. We talked about my recent C-PTSD diagnosis and how it overlaps with codependency. I asked her how she could tell so immediately, after only brief sharing of information, that I suffered from codependency.

"I'm very perceptive," she said. "And I know a lot of people who went through the program. I'm also on the empath spectrum."

I got so excited!

"Omgggg, same here. Are you a psychic empath? I was going to ask you that earlier; I could tell. I am too."

"No I'm not. I've honestly never heard the term."

"Empath? Spiritual Empath?"

"No, Psychic Empath."

"Same thing, really. There's a really good article or 2 out there, I'll find them. The psychic part sounds crazy maybe. Idk. Depends what interests you and what you're open to. Spiritual empath is a better term. More comfortable.

I'll find them and send them to you. Basically being able to sense how others are feeling or feeling as if you know others well upon first encounter. If you google 'signs you're an empath' you'll have some good finds."

"I'll look into it," she said.

I asked her whether CoDa was religiously/spiritually oriented.

"Oh yeah, there’s tons.

"Yes, it’s a spiritual program. Whether that’s religion, and a certain god or deity, or just something greater than you like nature or the group."

"Ohhhh okay," I said. "I have a really strong spiritual connection to nature, but I'm not really connected to a god or deity. I'm not religious so I wondered whether it would involve turning away from depending on others and depending on god.

I have a spiritual connection to nature and then also loved ones in heaven.

I mean, I guess you could also say I turn to 'the universe.'"

"So my higher power is the spirit of the universe. I say God for short. It's very similar."

"That's awesome," I said. "Sounds peaceful."

"Knowing I’m not in control.. yeah, it is 😊"

"Interesting. I haven't explored spirituality very much. That's a larger than life concept though for sure. I feel like it would take me a long time to grasp that. I'm interested in exploring Buddhism."

"It's worth it," she said.

At 12 noon today, I met Rachel outside the SSW. She missed her morning class, but still met me at noon. We went off to the side and stood. I was nervous. It was the first time I'd seen her since she told me we could have sex.

She told me she couldn't sleep last night with the GOP Tax Plan, and thus decided to miss class. She began vaping, and we talked about the tax plan.

Alyssa showed up and began walking over. I quickly mentioned to Rachel, "So I sorta arranged this with 2 different people in case someone forgot..." Rachel laughed.

"This is Rachel, this is Alyssa," I introduced them to each other. We all talked a bit. "I'm so nervous!" I said.

"Awww you'll be fine. You can do it," said Alyssa.

"Did you meditate?" asked Rachel.

I sorta laughed.

"No, I didn't have time to meditate before this or last night.."

She laughed.

"You ready?" they asked.

"Um, yeah, so like, what should we do? What do you wanna do?"

"It doesn't matter," they both said.

"It's up to you," I said. "Should we all go up?"

"Yeah! Let's all go up," they said. "It's gonna be okay!

"Can we take the elevator? I'm not climbing steps," I said. They laughed. We opened the door. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the highly infiltrated upper level commons. I hoped someone I know would notice me, supported on both sides, by friends. One- a girl I almost had sex with. The other, a new friend. Both supporting me. I was safe.

We walked toward the elevator, stepped inside. It went down first, then back up to 2. The doors got stuck and wouldn't open. "Omg this is my worst nightmare coming true," Alyssa said.

"Should we go up to 3 and then down the stairs?" someone asked.

"Let's try it again," both Rachel and I said.

It worked that time. I read the office number, 2764, from the email. Rachel led the way. "It's so confusing up here," said Alyssa. "I know," I said, "Easy to get lost."

Rachel found it Nd immediately popped her head in.

"Oh, hi!" exclaimed Kathryn.

"I'm sorry I wasn't in class. I couldn't sleep last night with the GOP Tax Plan," said Rachel.

Kathryn was super intrigued and understanding. I then hugged Rachel and said thank you. I hugged Alyssa, said thank you. "You're gonna be fine," they both said. We said goodbye. I walked in.

"Hi!" I exclaimed.

"Hi! Omg! It's so great to see you!" exclaimed Kathryn.

( TBC. )

---

5:08 PM = Saw Savannah outside SSW. I was approaching yet again and didn't know what to do. I already saw her once. I miss her so much. I just. I felt compelled to approach her. I had nothing to say, but had just spent the last 3 hours struggling through somatic trauma in Michigan Union.

"Savannah."

Didn't hear me.

"Savannah."

Didn't hear me.

"Savannah."

She turned around, just sorta looking at me. I stumbled.

"Um. Sorry. I just thought I would say hi. Because I was walking past you."

"Hi," she said. "What have you been up to?"

"Um. I had a meeting with Kirish today for a few hours."

She nodded.

I looked down. My voice was shaking and I was ready to cry.

"And um. Then I went to CAPS."

I looked up at her.

She was nodding and smiling like she genuinely cared maybe.

"And that's about it," I said. She nodded supportively and then was looking all around, car to car, in a hurry, saying "That's actually my uber, so I gotta go," (pointing and rushing), "But um, I'll get a hold of you when I have some free time from school and everything." "Yeah, okay, sounds good." And she went and caught her uber. I was frazzled and in a state of episodic shock having approached her without a purpose. I immediately got very depressed after that. I crossed the road. I couldn't go back behind me because Rachel was out there. She may have seen the whole thing. Alyssa and Erin had to have been out there. At least 3 separate 521/511 classes had just let out. All FLO members were there for the meeting which evidently was cancelled (reason why I was headed that way). For all I know, Kathryn Irish could have been out there. Max, easily. Brendon, Erica, Shelby, Erin, Alyssa, Rachel, Autumn, Amanda, Mitch, Kari, Danny, I'm sure they were all out there. I saw Haley!!! She was on the phone, but we both said hi. That was so nice. I miss her. I came that way knowing FLO had cancelled, but I wanted to be amidst it all. I wanted to feel a part of it all. I also did not want anyone to see me. After that, I didn't know which way to turn. Couldn't look behind me at all those potential people. Almost went to Espresso Royale, but didn't WANT coffee. Could have hit the diag, but WHY?? Could have gone to Gamma, but already established with Tyler I had no reason to. I was trapped. It occurred to me maybe she thought I went to CAPS to see a therapist, especially after receiving Max's letter. How much did she know????? Did she know they deleted me on FB? Was she apart of that decision? Did she support it? Does she want to do it too? Will she? Did she know I replied to their letter and send it last night? Had she read Max's letter? Did she read mine? Did she know Max and I communicated this morning? Did she know I still talk to Rachel? Did she know about Portland? Does she know how much this hurts? I ended up just walking back around like a moron, actually following her, but way behind, maintained a distance. She got into her uber, it took off, and I continued walking with blisters to the bus stop by the libraries I saw Autumn and stopped. I missed two 62's in a row. We talked about how things have been going. I was extremely distracted and anxious. She got on her bus and I walked back to the actual stop. I waited a while then realized I didn't want to stand on a crowded bus, so I walked BACK to the Union and waited for the next one. I cried very softly. Held myself. When my bus came, I got on and cried a little more. I stared into space after that and went away for the rest of the ride. By the time we got around to the libraries, we were packed. But my feet hurt from these boots. And I have a hole in my sock rubbing my foot raw on Central Campus. Now I'm in my car and have been for a half hour writing this in the State St. P&R lot. I'm about to head home and blog some more. I'm trying to tell myself I'm proud because had I not gone today, I never would have bravely approached Savannah. She knows I struggle. I'm sure she sensed anxiety and shame on that second encounter and she is genuine. I like to think she still cares even when mad at me. So I'm not too worried about her still thinking about this as deeply and thoroughly as I still am. It affected me strongly. I think it's what Amy calls a flashback maybe. I'm proud of myself for openly putting myself through the depression and fear involved in the day. I'm proud of meeting with Rachel, Alyssa, and Kathryn. I'm proud of myself for the winter of 2005, spring 2006, summer 2007, fall 2007, all of 2008, all of 2009, summer 2010, fall 2010, summer 2011, fall 2011, Western, summer 2013, fall 2014, spring 2015, spring 2016, fall 2016, summer 2017, fall 2017, and now.

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