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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Who We Were and What We Are

T/W: Detailed descriptions of war violence, blood, injury, death, and physical and mental trauma

Mum & Dad,

The biggest day of our last four/five years is upon us this morning and in a few hours, we will decide the fate of Europe. I’ve been trying to tell myself it’s just another routine dogfight we’re flying into but I can’t help but feel sick with worry. This is the most important offensive of the whole war so far and we’re going in completely unprepared. At least, that’s how it feels. Am I even old enough for this? A mere twenty-six years old and I feel no older than I was when I left home…or left for my first day of kindergarten at that. I’ve grown a lot since I was last home and sometimes I wonder if you’d even still recognise me…I’m not the same timid teenager you kissed goodbye on our front porch all those years ago and, truthfully, I can hardly recognise myself sometimes. I like to hope that despite all the changes and the growing and the experiences, I’m still making you proud. Everything I do, I do for you.

I must say goodbye now. We’re due to the planes by 0530 and takeoff is at 0600. I will write you again as soon as we land. I hope I will at least be able to enjoy the sunrise this morning.

I love you to all the ends of the universe.

Your son,

Richie

June 6, 1944 – Outskirts of Bayeux, France, 0857hr

It was too quiet. The cruelest kind of cliché when Charlie fluttered his eyes open to the blue sky above him and nothing but silene surrounding him. Only when he concentrated could he hear the very faint sound of gunfire in the far distance. It was all too quiet. He took a second to process where he was and why he was sprawled out on a field in an unknown location but his questions were answered when he carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position and saw his plane mostly smashed to pieces and engulfed in flames a few metres away.

When his memory returned to him as to what had happened, Charlie’s eyes went wide and he looked around him, breathing out a rough, “Richie?”

There was just silence.

“Richard.” Charlie pushed himself to his feet and cried out in agony as his ankle was most definitely twisted and he stumbled a moment before catching his balance on his other foot. The blow of the engine and the impact of the crash had thrown him from the plane and he was lucky he didn’t suffer any worse damage.

But his own damage wasn’t what Charlie was worried about as he limped across the grass with his eyes scanning the surroundings for his missing best friend.

“Richie?” he called again. There was no answer. Charlie hobbled towards the wreck of the plane, only discovering the onset of searing pain on his arm and the burn that had ripped his uniform sleeve and stained his skin a blotchy angry red. The fire burned on, surprisingly having not taken most of the plane yet while the front half was destroyed to smithereens by the impact.

“Richard!” Charles called again, slightly louder with more desperation as he approached the plane.

There was an ever so faint call from the inside, “Charlie.”

Charles rushed over to the shattered glass windows of the cockpit to reveal his best friend still in his somewhat intact seat. Richard peered up at him behind tear filled tired blue-grey eyes, his hair still tucked under his helmet and drenched in sweat down to his uniform. He was sitting perfectly still, almost unmoving, and solely because a broken piece of the plane’s wing was impaled diagonally right through his middle; the streaks of white and black that were painted on the metal still visible. Richard was quite literally drenched in his own blood, his dark blue uniform stained almost black and the liquid glistened in the sun as it trickled down his front.

“Charlie.” Richard repeated shakily, his eyes brimming with frightened tears. “Charlie.”

“You’re fine, Richie.” Charlie spoke as strongly as he could possibly manage. He started to tug aside the broken pieces of metal that were making up the plane to find a way to let his best friend free. It was reasonably easy with how shattered the plane was by the impact and the sides fell away like there was nothing holding them together in the first place.

“You took so long to wake up, Charlie.” Richard breathed weakly. “I-I don’t know how long but…but it felt like ages.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Richie. I’m here now. We’re going to get you to the medic tent, okay? We’re going to see Frankie, okay?”

Richard’s nose scrunched up as he looked down at himself and his state, “She’ll be upset with me.” His small sob made him cry out in pain, “Ouch, Charlie, it hurts!”

Charles ignored the searing burning of hot metal on his hands as he managed to pick the rest of the plane apart to make room to help Richard out. He then reached into the cockpit slowly, carefully avoiding the shrapnel of metal sticking out of his best friend’s abdomen, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Richie winced as he maneuvered his arm out of the belt and Charlie tossed it aside before stepping closer and leaning in, “Okay, Richie, can you hold onto me?”

Richard weakly raised his hands up and draped them around Charlie’s shoulders, shrieking in agony as his movement only shifted the metal in his torso, “No! I can’t!”

Charlie tugged Richie out of the plane despite his loud cries in protest and with Charlie’s twisted ankle, they ended up just falling backwards onto the grass ungracefully anyway, both landing with a heavy thud. Richard groaned loudly in pain, smacking his best friend’s arm.

“Fuck you, you fucking bastard, it hurts!” Richard wailed, hot tears pouring down his face as his body ached in fresh agony, rolling onto his side slightly to take the pressure off the piece of metal that was lodged through his opposite hip, “Oh God!”

Charlie scrambled to his feet and took stand over him, holding out his hands to him and trying not to look at the steady flow of blood that was now staining the green grass, “Come on, Richie. Take my hands.”

Richard shut his eyes tightly and cried, his chest heaving with panicked and weak breathlessness, “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can! You need to, Richard Zachary Besson. Take my hands.”

Richie’s weeping was falling more into a soft whimpering, the pinks of his cheeks fading into a pale white, and his breathing was turning into shallow shuttering inhales. He was weak; and not in the term of lack of bravery but by the fact that he seemed to only have mere moments of life left in him.

“Charlie.”

His weak call seemed to be proof enough that they weren’t going to be going anywhere. Charlie dropped to his knees at his side against the grass and he pulled off his best friend’s suffocating helmet and tossed it out of the way to let the cool spring air ruffle through his sweaty brown hair. Charlie rested a hand against Richie’s cheek and set his two fingers gently under his ear to find his pulse. It was weak. Charlie swallowed back the lump growing in the back of his throat and he bowed his head a moment in the realization of the reality of their current situation.

“Charlie…” Richard breathed shakily, reading out for him and Charles took his hand in his lovingly, “tell my Dad I wasn’t scared.”

Charlie’s face scrunched up in his heartbreak, holding onto his best friend’s soft hand a little tighter and having to endure his last messages.

Richard stared up at him with tears trickling down his cheeks, “Christ...I am scared, Charlie. But…d-don’t tell him that, okay? Tell him I was brave f-for him...him and Mum.”

Charlie nodded.

Richie blinked slowly, his eyebrows furrowing and he stared up at Charlie curiously as if he had forgotten how they had gotten there. Charlie wanted to say something – anything – to somehow console his dying best friend, but it was as if he had forgotten how to speak, his brain almost refusing to let him say anything as if one word would solidify the fact that he was losing him. Richard glanced down at his blood-soaked body with the shard of metal sticking up through the bottom right side of his stomach.

“Oh Christ…that’s not good.” Richard breathed, letting his head fall gently back against the grass. “Oh, God, please help me.”

Charlie reached into the front pocket of Richie’s uniform and pulled out his own family photograph he always kept in there. He held it up to him so he could see it from where he laid on the grass.

Richard smiled weakly, his eyes getting heavy and he reached his other hand that wasn’t holding Charlie’s up to take the small photograph from him. He stared at it a moment, running his blood stained thumb over the faces of his family; his sister, his mother, and then his father, lingering on the last for a moment. His heart was working overtime to try and keep him alive but the lack of oxygen to his brain was getting him weaker and weaker until he was almost in a daze-like state. He looked younger like that.

Richie let a small smile tug at the corner of his dry mouth as he stared at his picture and mumbled out, “That’s my Daddy.”

“Yeah.” Charlie whispered, swallowing back the break in his voice. “They love you so much. More than anything in the whole universe. Can you feel it?”

Richard nodded slightly, setting the photograph against his shuttering chest. He licked his pale lips weakly and his eyebrows furrowed a moment against the throbbing pain that was radiating through his body, “I’m sleepy, Charlie.”

“I know. I’m right here.” Charles whimpered lightly, running his thumb over his best friend’s knuckles. They boys stared at each other a moment, blue eyes locked through their different shades, the eyes they were most familiar with, especially in the past four years. Richard blinked slowly up at his best friend and Charlie took a soft inhale before speaking strongly, “I love you, Richie.”

Richard couldn’t manage a smile in his state as he breathed out a quiet, “I love you, Charlie.” and then his eyes fell closed as if he simply drifted to sleep.

Charles bit his lip hard and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Richie’s pale forehead, “Tell Uncle Christian I said hello…he’s gonna take such good care of you.”

He sat there for a moment, unmoving, in lonely silence that settled heavy on his heart. It was the first time in years that he had ever been alone. The silence pounded in his head. Charlie took a shuttering inhale and looked around at his surroundings from the destroyed plane to the farmland that stretched for miles and the dirt road that ran left to right a few yards away from the field they were in. The movement of Richie’s limp hand slipping out of Charlie’s light grasp brought his attention back to him and Charlie clenched his jaw to try and keep his composure as he slumped from his knees onto his bum on the blood-soaked grass.

He stared at the lifeless body of his best friend, the one he grew up with and went through life with, and he couldn’t hold in the blubbery sob that fell from his lips. Charlie couldn��t think of anything but the terrible pain in his heart as he let himself cry bravely in the empty fields of German controlled France. He was surrounded by the enemy but that was the last worry on his mind. The guilt almost overpowered the sadness, floods of pointing fingers filled his mind: ‘if I had just turned earlier’ ‘if I had just helped him out of his belt before we crashed’ ‘if I just got to him sooner’.

Each regretful thought made the pain worse until Charlie was truly wailing uncontrollably, not even trying to stay quiet as hot tears poured down his face and his breath fell rapid until he was getting lightheaded. His right hand clung onto Richie’s desperately as if he was trying to cry the life back into him, but it was truly no use.

The sound of a truck engine approaching from the distance didn’t process in Charlie’s mind as he was too hung up on his sorrow and his grief to notice. The sounds of his crying led the vehicle to the opening of the farm field he had crashed in, the men inside the bed of the truck with rifles at the ready in case it was the enemy they came across. Thankfully for Charlie, the truck belonged to the American paratroopers that had dropped behind the German lines in the middle of the night, and with one glance to the intact tail-end of the British Spitfire and the young man in the Allied uniform, the men lowered their weapons.

One of the officers jumped out of the truck and headed over to aide Charlie, draping his rifle over his shoulder. Charlie looked up at him as he approached but didn’t even make an effort to stop crying; he simply sat there like a punished little boy and sobbed himself dizzy under the concerned stare of the older American man. The surname Lewis was embordered on the breast of his green uniform and his blue eyes were furrowed in concern, blonde hair still surprisingly neat under his cap, and he crouched down on the other side of Richie’s body to reach a hand out to Charlie’s shoulder.

He glanced at Charlie’s own nametag before looking the young man in his eyes, “Seavey, is it? You’re going to have to try and calm down a little…the Germans have us surrounded right now and it’s not safe for you to be wailing like this, you understand me?”

Charlie only cried on as if he couldn’t even hear what the man was saying. It felt like he could only concentrate on the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat and could barely clue into the faded mumbling of the strange officer in front of him. He just clung tighter onto Richie’s cold hand and lifted their held hands together in front of his face to give himself some sort of privacy to cry.

“We’re headed towards the Allied station now. Come along with us and we can get you set up in the nurses’ tent to make sure you’re not injured.” Sergeant Lewis offered.

“I-I’m not leaving him.” Charlie finally quieted down enough to speak, his voice wavering greatly, and he clutched tighter onto Richie’s hand.

“You’ve got to now, buddy. He’s gone.”

“No.” Charlie said through his teeth, grabbing the front of Richie’s blood-soaked uniform as he hiccupped lightly. “I’m not leaving him.”

The Sergeant glanced back to his truckful of men and waved some of them over to help get Charlie up. A couple soldiers came across the grass and stepped carefully around the body to help lift Charlie to his feet.

“No!” Charlie shouted, yanking his arms away from them and threw himself across Richard’s still chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly, “I’m not leaving him!”

The Americans tried to reason with him and get him to quiet down but Charlie just sobbed on, shaking uncontrollably as he tried to shove their hands off him.

“Come on, Seavey. Don’t make this harder on yourself or on us.” the Sergeant said as kindly as he could.

Two of the men wrapped their arms around Charlie’s middle and started to physically lift him off the ground.

“No! Richie! That’s my brother! That’s my brother!” Charlie shrieked as loud as he possibly could, his voice cracking through his sobs as he flailed in their grasp, reaching desperately out to the body at their feet as his voice echoed across the fields surrounding them. “I’m not leaving my brother!”

“Okay, alright, okay, we’ll take him with us.” Sergeant Lewis sighed, waving over a few more men to help them. Charlie quieted down as he watched two of the American Paratroopers lift Richard’s body from the grass, the photograph falling from where it had rested against his chest and Charlie dropped quickly to retrieve it. He limped quickly towards the truck after the other men, now voluntarily.

The Americans shifted around in the bed of the truck, giving Charlie a place to sit by the end of the bench and the body was passed up into his arms. Charlie felt like he was dreaming; some sort of strange out of body experience where nothing he looked at or touched felt real, barely even comprehending the tears on his cheeks that trickled down his neck or the blood that stained his hands and his uniform, only drenching him more as he held Richie close and tucked his photograph back into his pocket.

The other men in the truck stared silently at the young Brit, pitifully, worriedly, but unspeaking as they knew in each of their own ways what Charlie was feeling. Similarly, but not the same.

The truck lurched as they continued down the dirt path towards the newly liberated city of Bayeux, and Charlie breathed as he watched the calm farmland pass by them and clutched his brother’s body in his arms.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @chanelwonders

#✉#daniel seavey #corbyn besson #why dont we #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic #corbyn besson fanfic

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ofmargos · 5 years

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chicago’s very own margo rosas has been spotted on madison avenue driving a mercedes-AMG G65 , welcome ! your resemblance to camila mendes is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re distrusting , but being passionate might help you . i think being a scorpio explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be lipstick stained kisses on mirrors , doing vocal warm-ups five minutes before top of show , popping bottles of bubbly to celebrate buying a new pair of shoes . ( my biological dad paid off my mom to keep my relation to him a secret ) & ( cis-female + she / her ) + ( lia , 20 , she / her , cst )

whAT is up my dudes ! i’m lia & i lowkey missed wealthy & writing for my bbygirl margo so i’m rlly excited to be here !!!! if you know her from before i’m sorry lmao i’ve tweaked her background a bit but everything else is p much the same ig ?? she’s fun , she’s a dumbitch , & she’s here to make things harder than they need to be probs . but if you wanna know more , i wrote a novel below so plz enjoy that . if you wanna plot then LIKE THIS & i’ll slide in your im’s.or if you prefer discord hmu @ 𝐛𝐛𝐧𝐨$𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥#1904. i look forward to writing with y’all ! <3

S T A T S ↴

-- * FULL NAME : margaret lucia rosas -- NICKNAME(S) : margo ( preferred name , started introducing herself to people as “margo” back in like the 7th or 8th grade ??? who’s margaret ? we don’t know her ) , mar , mars -- * AGE : twenty-three -- * D.O.B : october 31 -- * ZODIAC : scorpio -- * GENDER : cis-female --* ORIENTATION : heterosexual heteroromantic -- * HEIGHT : 5′2″ -- * NATIONALITY : american -- * BIRTHPLACE : chicago , illinois -- * OCCUPATION : broadway performer -- * TRAITS : passionate , creative , dramatic , distrusting , outgoing , ambitious , fun-loving , loyal , daring , sarcastic , stubborn , overconfident , impulsive , hard-working , petty , secretive lowkey

B I O G R A P H Y ↴

( TW : BRIEF MENTIONS OF ABORTION, ALCOHOLISM, AND DRUG USE )

first things first , i’m just going to say it-- margo was an accident . and her story begins with her mother , stassia , who was born and raised on the wrong side of the tracks in chicago , illinois . although she was born into poverty , she had big aspirations for herself and wanted a better lifestyle . her ambition and work ethic were unmatched , and that’s how she managed to get into columbia university ( thank you scholariship $$ ). stassia was in the middle of struggling through her college years when she met her future baby daddy . he was older , going through grad school , and the sole heir to a billion-dollar company . the sparks between them flew instantly despite their differences and they messed around for the better part of a year before the unexpected happened . stassia found herself taking a pregnancy test in the bathroom in between finals ( #justcollegethings , amirite ) and swore she was going to pass out when she noticed the double lines . and let’s just say that her baby daddy did NOT take the news well . a lot of horrible things were said that day . too many hurt feelings for the relationship ( that apparently was never that serious to homeboy ) to carry on . ( TRIGGER WARNING !!! ) so he cut all ties with stassia-- but not before giving her a crazy proposition : get an abortion and never talk to him again OR keep the baby but tell absolutely no one it’s his and never talk to him again . they both seemed like shitty options to stassia , who was actually tragically in love w him , but when he even offered to PAY HER a hefty sum ( i’m talking millions of dollars ) to keep the secret .. well-- it seemed like a blessing in disguise . she’d finally have the funds to live the life she always wanted . even if there was now a baby she didn’t plan for in the mix . so she took the hush money , had the baby in secret , and ran off to completely reinvented herself . ( TRIGGER WARNING END )

although margo’s mother was born into poverty , margo certainly was not . by the time she was born , margo’s mom was ramping up to graduate college and join the high society in the heart of chicago . she got a good job , a lavish place to live , and never told margo about her past . margo grew up completely disconnected from her mother’s side of the family and had no idea of the lies she was being fed over the years . early on in margo’s childhood , her mother met a man through work who she would later go on to marry . that man is the only dad that margo has ever known . he and his daughter were a welcomed addition to their little family , making margo’s home life feel complete in some way . she was provided a good life with the dual income adding to the millions her mother kept . the life her mother always wished she had growing up . in a way , everything she did was for margo . she never wanted her babygirl to struggle like she had to .

as she got older , margo went to all the best schools but only made average grades . she was never too concerned with academics and instead focused on her poppin’ social life and extracurriculars . during her middle school days , she developed an affinity for the performing arts . when everyone had to pick an elective , margo found herself in the theatre class and absolutely loving it . and she was good too . she had excellent stage presence and took every role she got in school productions in stride -- literally the best tree number 3 you’ve ever seen in your life . as she moved on to high school , she rose in the ranks of the theatre department until she was pretty much landing every single lead by the time she was an upperclassmen . acting was her passion , and she figured why not turn being dramatic and talking a lot ( her two most notable personality traits ) into a career . to really hone the craft , she trained herself to be a triple threat : actor , singer , and dancer ( sutton foster , eat your heart out ) . honestly truly had rachel berry in early seasons of glee vibes-- she knew she was the best around and wouldn’t stand to let anyone take the spotlight from her . her peers hated to love her talents because she acted like such a bitch to them offstage / out of character . not that margo really cared for what others thought of her anyway . self absorbed as ever , she told herself she didn’t need friends and generally pushed away any one that dared try to get close to her-- save for her sister . though somehow , someway she managed to get sucked into a small group of friends that would change her for the better ( s/o to ky and gio , sorry they had to put up w bitchy hs margo , rip )

after graduating somewhere in the middle of her class , margo followed in her mother’s footsteps and went to columbia university . she was really only able to get in because she was a legacy and her parents made a considerable donation to the school , but we don’t talk about it . and to say that margo’s college years were transformative feels like an understatement . on one hand , they were some of the best years of her life : she got a true taste of independence , met some of her best friends ( s/o oliver and claudia ), and felt fulfilled to be in the city she had romanticized for so long-- new york baby ! but it was also a very low point for her . back in her high school years , she felt like a very big fish in a teeny tiny pond . she was hot shit , the top dog in her department , and all her hard work and effort to remain leading lady had paid off . however , at columbia she was just one in hundreds of talented people . some with more or less talent , or more or less connections , but they deserved a shot at fame just as much as she did . margo felt like she was fighting for her chance in the spotlight every single day and it was both parts exhausting and humbling for her . she had a amy march mentality “i want to be great, or nothing” and considered throwing in the towel . temporarily thrown off by the pressure to be successful , she took a small tumble from grace . ( TRIGGER WARNING !!! ) turning towards alcohol was her coping mechanism of choice . losing herself in the party scene and surrounding herself with other people that prioritized getting drunk or high over going to class and getting good grades had an obvious effect on her academic performance . ( END TRIGGER WARNING ) she almost lost her place in the BFA Theatre Program during her junior year due being on academic probation . it took a little bit of intervention on her close friends and family part to get margo clean and pull herself together . but by her senior year , she got back on track to graduate on time and participated in various shows at local theaters to build her resume . after almost losing everything she had ever worked for , a fire was lit under margo that had her determined to push herself hard than ever before and make a name for herself in the theatre world .

after she graduated from columbia she moved to new york permanently so that she could fully submerge herself in her work . not long after graduating , she was lucky enough to book several gigs including her big breakout role as lydia in beetlejuice the musical ! it really skyrocketed her into broadway stardom which is cool . a life long dream that once seemed unobtainable was suddenly a reality and she couldn’t have been more elated . with her sudden ( and well deserved ) success , she got a lot of media attention . soon she was getting verified on twitter , instagram , gaining a whole bunch of followers , and getting asked to be on talkshows and stuff to promote the show . honestly , truly a dream ! but her new-found fame gained the attention of another group of people .. her mom’s long lost family . one of her aunt’s ( that she previously didn’t know existed ) reached out to her through social media . and at first , margo honestly couldn’t believe that she had family that her mom never told her about . but after some thought it sort of made sense . in hindsight , her mom had always been evasive whenever margo asked about the other’s childhood or her side of the family .

when margo told her mom about her aunt reaching out and how she wanted to meet her , her mom shut it down quick . stassia told her there were a lot of reasons that she didn’t talk to that side of the family and that was that-- PERIODT . but margo was #rebellious and went to meet with her aunt anyway . and that’s how she found out about her brazilian roots and her big ol’ loving and supportive extended family . that whole experience made margo reconsider what other things her mom was keeping from her . and boy oh boy was that a rabbit hole she shouldn’t have gone down . when margo started to demand her mother tell her the truth , it caused their relationship to grow tense . stassia eventually cracked and told her about her bio-dad and all the things she went through for margo . with the truth finally being exposed to her , margo started seeing things in a new light . like her whole life is kinda a lie and why didn’t her father want her ? where was he ? does he know who she is ? why did he never try to contact her ? has she ever walked past him in the streets and never knew ? it was all too much for her to think about so she just kinda ... shut it all out . she acted like nothing was different , even if her “ what if ” thoughts keep her up most nights .

if you just ignore the abandonment issues , insecurities , and her inability to handle emotions and focus solely on her success in material terms : margo’s doing really well ! she’s been living in new york full time for two (2) years now . she’s one of broadway’s most popular rising stars . having completed her run as the original lydia deetz on broadway , she’s moved on to take on the mantel of janis in mean girls on broadway . she’s learning , growing , and thriving . just trying to have a good time all the time with her friends and live the dream , baby !

P E R S O N A L I T Y & F U N F A C T S ↴

margo is super fun-loving and down to clown

will try anything once and it’s gotten her in trouble more times than she can count

also cannot stand to be bored , so she’s always looking for the next big adventure

although she can be really ridiculous sometimes , she’s very serious when it comes to her work . she’s super hard-working and doesn’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of achieving her dreams : even herself

margo’s a very sociable girl and will talk to anyone and everyone . she’s the type that will hold a conversation for 2hrs with a stranger at a party and then when you ask her “who was that” she’s like “i don’t remember their name but i do know their entire life story so that’s cool”

has a way of making people feel like they know her really well when really she’s only letting them see 1/8th of her

keeps her personal life private normally unless you’re super good friends w her

i wouldn’t recommend pissing her off , bc she is petty as a mf and will lit rally never forget how one’s wronged her . this causes her to start fights sometimes . she’ll just bring up old shit out of no where and , since she’s nosy af , she makes everything her business and confronts people on their bs

she’s a whole liar bc she claims she’s a “retired party girl” but really party girl margo has never stopped , will never stop , can never be stopped

studied theatre in college but minored in mass communications just in case she needed a backup job

is v bad at being an adult !!!! like ... can’t cook , often forgets about her responsibilities until the last minute or needs to be reminded like 20 times , stills calls her parents to be like “how do u use a washing machine plz help” , y’know the drill . yet somehow she manages to act as a mom friend to the people that are closest to her ??? v much a “do as i say not as i do” type of hypocrite lol

she has a tiktok and posts dumb shit on there all the time w her friends and like vlogs her backstage experiences in the theater and does the stupid dances and all that stuff hehe

is learning portuguese after meeting the brazilian side of her family

self-proclaimed dancing queen and it’s not because she learned ballet , jazz , and tap whole dabbling in other styles but because when she’s drunk you will in fact catch her dancing on tables !!!!!

i cannot stress enough how bad she is at dealing with her own feelings . like ... instead of dealing with them head on she just ... shuts down . runs away . will ghost on someone she really likes just bc she’d rather leave first than get left and i hate her for it

have i mentioned how big her ego is ???? pHEW . she rides a v fine line between self confident and OVER confident . but tbh it’s just a cover up for how much she rlly hates herself , there i said it

loyalty is EVERYTHING to margo . if you got her back , she’s got your back . but if you screw her over or mess with anyone she loves then she’ll likely try to make your life a living hell IM SORRY

undiagnosed insomniac . nights she spends alone in her own bed are the hardest for her because it’s when all the bad scary thoughts creep up on her and no matter how much she wants to shut them out and just close her eyes and fall to sleep , she can’t . so she’ll often roam the city looking for a distraction or hit up her friends and bother them for some spare company

she’s doesn’t like to be alone ( not like in a romantic relationship sense -- she actually likes being single bc she’s afraid of letting ppl get close enough to hurt her ). hence why she’s always had a roommate even after she moved out of her parent’s house . if she’s not attached to her roommate / best friend kylie’s hip then she’s definitely hitting up her sister or her other friends to see if they want to hang out , even if hanging out is laying around doing nothing or running errands together . margo wants to tag along just for the company

notoriously known for coming up with terrible ideas or following through with other people’s terrible ideas without question bc #YOLO

she’s her pr agents worse nightmare simply bc she has no filter and will not change herself or what she posts just bc she has a big audience ( follow margo on social media and you’re gonna see the good , the bad , and the ugly she does not give a FUCK )

always has good intentions ! her execution / way of showing those intentions is just poor !

she is a rich girl that could not survive not being rich and doesn’t even realize how spoiled she is . spends money like it’s nothing

a mob boss ( this is a joke but also kinda not a joke )

WANTED CONNECTION PAGES HERE

#can y'all tell i hate writing bios ????#this whole thing is a JOKE but i tried lol #plz plot with my baby i will love u forever #THIS IS LONG BUT I'M GLAD IT'S FINISHED OMG #wealthyhq:intro #abortion tw #alcohol tw #drug tw

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knb-matchups · 4 years

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@cherivale

gasp hello it’s miko from q and i’d like to request a matchup please!! uhh a lil rundown on me from my own perspective;; for starters, i’m bisexual, though i lean more towards guys, and i’m a libra! i’m also a full-blown enfp-t. and as for appearance;; i’m 5'2", with shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes! people comment on my big nose a lot too i’m admittedly a lil self conscious about it sksjdjdj

i’m really extroverted, and pretty loud in person. i can say i’ve got a lot of acquaintances in real life, but i rarely consider those people friends and i’m more of a social floater. online though, i absolutely love making friends and i tend to ramble a lot when speaking! i like healthy debate over things and love really deep and meaningful conversations as much as i love small talk. i hate real conflict though, i avoid it like the plague, and would much rather keep things under wraps than voice out my actual concerns.

since i do a lot of stuff — like interschool contests, school paper, clubs, and student council, among others — i’ve gotten a rep for being an overachiever and all. i’ve graduated valedictorian,, but i really am scared of getting burnt out. despite all the things i handle, i admit i’m a procrastinator — i put things off at the last minute because i convince myself i work well under pressure then have a breakdown at 3am fhsksjsj i’m also pretty impulsive, tbh, and while i don’t get mad easily i do tend to get annoyed when someone doesn’t do things ‘my way’ and such. i’m still trying to become more patient as a person and hope to improve on these things.

as for what i look for in a partner, tbh i’d like someone who can tolerate my clinginess? i’m a clingy lover, and i love physical affection and validation. the meganes and the asshole types too we can’t forget that. but honestly i fall for people really easily unless i’m in a committed relationship so anyone who can tolerate me is already a huge, huge turn on. and also someone who supports me during my 3am breakdowns. 100% i will cling to them for life.

thanks for doing these, lily! i’m really sorry for rambling so much aahdjdhd but i hope you have a lovely day! ♡

˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

hey miko ! don’t worry about rambling; i’m so ready to match you up. besides, i have a tendency to ramble, too, ahh! hope you like this & have a great day!!

˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

i match you up with … 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 !!

so… i got akashi vibes the moment i read your description ! like, i was thinking of others, of course… but then it just hit me that you’re literally the empress to akashi’s emperor. excuse my trite phrasing but it’s true–

plus a libra & a sagittarius are a good match !

to begin this matchup, i definitely remember the fact you’re an overachiever & you probably overwork yourself too much. with that, i think that’s something akashi would notice immediately.

it’s actually one of the traits he admires the most about you.

but at the same time, a part of him wants you to take care of yourself first & foremost. i can imagine him giving you that look if he sees you doing too much. and you probably sheepishly stare him down because hello, you have work to do & him judging you isn’t gonna change that–

he’s a captain okay- his motherly instincts take over.

to put it out there, akashi seijuro is an impressive student-athlete; he seems like he’s got it all under control, from his impressive academics to his athletic prowess.

he’s got a list of noteworthy accomplishments: a first year captain at rakuzan, captain of the generation of miracles, highly intelligent student, a talented pianist & violinist … there’s not much he can’t do.

which is why i feel he’s drawn to the go-getters like you- the kind of people who work incredibly hard to broaden their horizons and improve themselves.

you’re smart & very capable– you may not see it, however, you have an air of elegance & respect about you (it wouldn’t surprise akashi that people envy you)… but at the same time, you’re also so friendly & outgoing. how is it possible that you can be so intelligent from both academic & social standpoints?

you’ve achieved the status of being both a respected peer and individual who people could go up to and chat with ease. despite your impressive co-curriculars & accomplishments, you don’t act as if you’re above anyone & that’s something akashi truly admires as well. your personality is literally golden.

basically, you’re an amazing human bean. and akashi has so much respect for you, like you don’t even know.

that’s saying something, too ! because akashi strikes to me as the valedictorian type, too!

but like you, akashi isn’t without flaws or insecurities. he knows the pressure that comes with the responsibilities of assuming a multitude of roles, from leadership positions to pivotal positions in school activities. and honestly, he can relate with you. you bond over this fact.

i can definitely see you guys ending up being vulnerable with each other, showing one another the side that your peers don’t see. the side where you’re breaking down at three in the morning and the sheer panic you may get due to procrastinating.

but in the end, you’re there for each other through those high and low points. there’s something about those late nights that turn to early mornings that just hit different.

you’re both awake, and there’s a shared comfort in being together at this time. you guys get along swimmingly in spite of the ungodly hours.

you find yourselves (after the work is done & over with) delving into deep conversations; the kind that are the meaningful & deeply personal ones which leave an imprint in your mind. it’s in these moments where you guys share lasting memories because while it’s not much, the conversations where you bare your soul to one another really is something else.

on a different note, i can see you guys making it a habit to have academic debates with one another. it’s kind of like an intellectually stimulating exercise you do together. and while most probably don’t understand why you guys would do such a thing, it’s one of the things you enjoy the most when you’re together. because the fact stands that both of your minds are so sharp & i can imagine you both enjoy the repartee.

it’s your way of flirting-

if you guys ever clash for real, though, it’s most likely due to you both wanting to address a problem or event in a different manner. or you both have strong opposing opinions on a certain topic that you stubbornly don’t want to change.

essentially, you both are pretty headstrong, and the type to do things your own way. you, however, try to avoid voicing your grievances though.

your patient levels may be a little different (i see akashi as more the patient type than impulsive), but either way, strong personalities end up having a fight here and there. and honestly, there may be a bit of conflict in that.

not everything can be picture perfect; you and akashi acknowledge this fact.

i stand for the fact akashi will definitely notice the way you may be avoiding this conflict, and he’ll probably be the one who tries to resolve the matter with a compromise. that is if his pride allows it.

change of topic- i think it may take some time for akashi to warm up with your clinginess, but once he does… you better believe he’ll want daily affection (from hugs to even just cuddles!). he prefers that behind closed doors though.

akashi surprises himself by how much he desires this display of affection from you & only you-

also, he definitely finds it cathartic & soothing to have you in his arms, with your comforting scent of perhaps your perfume around him.

you guys privately cuddling & just hugging is probably the best way for you two to de-stress, okay? okay.

once he gets used to this kind of affection, he honestly will be displeased to let go. and also– in these soft moments, akashi will be quick to compliment & validate you; it’s in these moments where he feels he can tell you the kind of things that’s been running through his mind.

that itself is a testament of how close he feels to you & he just wants you to be his already-

possible runner-ups:

imayoshi shoichi

midorima shintarou

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— lily ! ♡

#knb matchups #kuroko no basuke matchups #submission #regulations #ask box #matchup #akashi seijuro #imayoshi shoichi #midorima shintaro

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hocenimlatine · 5 years

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Invitation Only

Happy Thanksgiving! Here’s a chapter from my completed series Knight of the Night that I started as @sithlordintraining

KNIGHT OF THE NIGHT (Modern AU/Vigilante AU)

Matt Organa-Solo, a 21-year old psychology student at Academia: University of First Order. He was the only child of Senator Leia Organa-Solo and Retired Chief of Police Han Organa-Solo. It was a problematic community, but not as terrible as some other towns and colleges. But somehow, he always found himself always somehow saving one someone, literally. After a crazy night, will Matt dare venture to become the hero this place needs?

Matt the Technician x Black Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The leaves crunched beneath the Doc Martens owned by Y/N and Matt. Matt turned to give her a soft smile, which was gifted with a joyful laugh. Over the past few weeks, the pair were growing closer; dare to say even dating. Of course, nothing was stated that this was true nor sealed with a kiss. But, it was their actions that made it all too clear. Matt was always meeting up with you, getting you food and drinks; and you were always making him happy, showing him new things and places, and just being super cute, the both of them. The cafe’s bell rung out as Matt held the door open for her. Sliding into the booth, Matt sat across from her and watched her remove her scarf. (Y/e/c) eyes sparkled at him. “Your nose is red.” Y/N smiled at him. “URGH!” He let out loud and dramatically dropped his head down. He heard the giggle escape your lips before hands threaded to his blond locks. His chocolate eyes peered over his gold rims as he sniffled. A pout fell on her glossed lips. Matt had a little cold and hadn’t really been able to hang out. Also, it could be because he didn’t wear the appropriate clothing as Kylo Ren. But, he couldn’t help it. You were a very outgoing girl and he had to ensure your safety even if you didn’t want it.

Midway through their meal, Matt noticed the shrug of her shoulders. “Why are you nervous?” He asked as her fork hit the plate. “Am not!” She chuckled. Two fingers pressed against tense shoulders, they fell down and Matt’s eyes crinkled as he saw your embarrassed face. “You know you can tell me anything.” He said holding your stare. You sat on your hands, focusing on keeping your shoulders still. “Are your parents coming back for Thanksgiving?” She asked. Matt shook his head no; “My dad is going to be in Panama with my Uncles, to celebrate their independence day; and my mom will probably be at some summit on the other side of the world.” He said unbothered and that bothered you. “Would you like to, possibly, come to Thanksgiving with my family?” Matt was taken aback. This was a big step in your relationship that wasn’t a relationship. “Yo-you don’t have to do that Y/N.” His fingers ran through his hair. “No Matt, I want you to come.” Your smile was so pressuring he didn’t want to disappoint you, but he didn’t want to feel like a burden and the Knights. “Y/N, I-I, I’m sorry I can’t impose like that.” He stammered. “You won’t!” Your hands wrapped around his larger one. “My parents always tell me I should invite more friends over and I can’t invite Phasma over because of Finn. And Rey is not allowed, that’s another story for another time; I hope this doesn’t seem like the process of elimination because I really want you there with me.” Biting your lip, your eyes were focused on him. “I’ll try and make it.” He fixed his glasses and that answer seemed to satisfy you. He knew Nassar had a family and would want to go away even if he didn’t say anything; Olcan was getting better, but he couldn’t leave him alone. So maybe, it was time to recruit more Knights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In less than 24 hours that the Knights of Ren had posted about “Looking for the next Knight”, it became America’s Next Crime Fighter. From videos, pictures, resumes, fanfictions, and essays pertaining to why they should be the next Knight. It was absolutely ridiculous! Matt knew he should entrust the help of his others but to be perfectly honest they were strangers with good intentions, but he felt more comfortable choosing because he was the one who initiated this. Not to mention the one candidate who caught him by surprise. The position was chosen: A young jokester from the South, who Matt had seen plenty of times. He was a nice kid that was misunderstood; on scholarship, an orphan with a good heart who was, sadly, still teased for his southern twang and dreary clothes. But that never seemed to break his merry spirits, although sometimes his anger would get the best of him. Matt understood this and was quick to take him under his wing, fitting very well into the Knights and gaining the name Lorcan Ren. Things were looking pretty well, Matt had definitely RSVP’d to the family dinner.

He had agreed to come to Thanksgiving, that had Y/N just bursting at the seams. It might’ve been fall, but your smile made each day warmer, or that could’ve been global warming. And seeing your smile just made him happy, the happiest he has ever been in probably like ever! But there was still a little problem that followed him. As Kylo, there was this one pest that continued to bother the Knights even after the fact they’ve been denied an invitation to the knights. It was late and the bass could be felt all around Phasma; it was hot, people were sticking to each other and she had to pee. Stumbling in her 5-inch heels, she made her way to the ladies room only to see a line. She rolled her eyes and made her way to the back exit. She propped the door open to gain access from the empty alleyway, or so she thought. “Aye, pretty girl!” A voice made Phasma jumped. She sucked her teeth as she felt the warm liquid slide down her knee. Turning, two slightly shorter guys began to approach her with a sinister smile. “Why are you out here alone?” One of the guys asked. Her face twisted up: “What?” The two boys laughed and began saying something in a different language. Rolling her eyes she started to make her way back to the club before one of them grabbed her. She brushed him off, just to have the two them grab her. With ice-cold blue eyes, she stared at them.

Kylo drove down the dark alleyway to see two men attacking a woman. He hopped off the bike and snuck behind one of the men, twisting his arm and shoving him on the wall. “What type of man are you?” The vocoder vibrated against the man’s ear. “No, no, no,” The man pleaded. “You got the wron-AHH!” He yelled as he was thrown to the ground. He turned to see the other man in a headlock. “No we called you, we need help she’s trying to kill us!” He squealed as the blonde held him tighter. “He made me pee myself!” Her words slurred a little. Though the mask, Matt watched as Phasma completely destroyed the other guy. Phasma let the unconscious man fall to the ground as her chest heaved. The masked man just stared at the woman. “Now are you going to let me be a Knight?” She asked. “N-No, I cannot.” Matt couldn’t put Phasma in harm, not just because of Phasma, but he could only imagine what Hux would do to him if he found out that he was putting her in danger. “Is this because I’m a fucking girl?” Her accent was thick. “Because if so that’s complete bullshit! Before you came, I was taking them both down, with fucking heels that hurt like a cunt!” Phasma continued her rant and he knew there was no winning with that. “Fine.” Phasma almost missed the approval due to the static of the mask. Her red drunk face lit up: “Really?” She began to make her way to hug the Knight, who was taken aback. Phasma wasn’t a hugger and honestly, this was probably the first time she was hugging him. “You won’t be a Knight, but I have something for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Captain; that’s what he called Phasma. Gave her a silver helmet to find her at any given moment. She was quite aggressive, so he let her run practice along with Nassar. They instantly clicked maybe because they both came from military families and knew how everything ran. Matt thought it would be great to send her out to the women who contacted them; he thought she would kill him for typecasting her but she enjoyed being a “feminist hero” while not dressing like Wonder Woman, yet still being shiny. A laugh rumbled through Matt’s chest as he thought about it as he waited outside the door to your family’s home. The door opened to show two identical boys looking at him; Matt blinked behind his glasses not knowing what to say. “Uh...Hi, I’m Matt, I’m a,” He cleared his throat. “Y/N’s friend.” The boys’ face lit up. “Ohhhh! Okay, come in, man.” They pulled him in. The scent of food filled his nostrils and music mixed with the voices of children hit his ears. It was just an environment that he had never been in. He was the only child in his entire family; the only companion he ever had was a brown Tibetan Mastiff named Chewbacca, but even that gift for him chose to side with his father. Matt walked into the room, feeling all out of place in the warm-hearted house. “Hey, man!” The familiar voice pulled him out of his daze. He turned to see Finn and four other guys approach him. “This is Matt.” Finn nodded towards him and the three behind him expression changed quickly. Before he could actually read all of them, his name was being called. “MATT!” Your cheery voice alerted them all as you descended the stairs.

He couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked. You always looked beautiful, but he guessed being in a comfortable environment. He thought it was his mind making you move in slow motion, but he didn’t see you helping two little babies down the stairs. “Say hi to Matt!” You told the two toddlers, who opted to wave shyly and run away. “Hi Matt,” Y/N smiled up at him and the blush quickly took over his face. She then turned to the boys and gave them evil eyes. “You guys better have been nice to him.” To his surprise, they cowered back in fear. His lips tugged up but he did his best to keep it under wraps. “Um, I-I brought something.” He raised the black bag. “Oh okay, let’s take it to the kitchen.” Matt followed behind you like a lost puppy as he got some looks from your family members. “Mom, Dad, this is Matt,” He turned to see your parents and you were the perfect mix. “Another wh-,” Your dad whispered gaining a smack from your mom. “It’s lovely to have you, Matt. Is it short for Matthew?” Matt shook his head. “Matthias,” Matt nodded. “Aw, that’s nice and different.” Her mother smiled. “You brought something?” Y/N nudged him and he handed over the black bag. Your father was quick to take it and reveal the brown liquid. A nice smirk fell on his lips as he peered at the large bottle of Jack Daniels. His neck was red hoping your father wouldn’t be offended; this was the drink his Uncle Lando brought over all the time. “Good job, boy.” Your father chuckled calling over your Uncles and cousins over for a drink. A wave of relief hit him until you wrapped your fingers around his hand and introduced him to everyone.

Matt doesn’t know how he found himself surrounded by your brothers, cousins, and Finn. But there he was with a drink in hand listening to west coast rap. “Man, he goes to Berkeley and now he swears he from Cali.” One of your cousin jokes. Matt wasn’t really paying attention. He was too busy looking at all the pictures of you and your family, and pictures that stretched back generations. He took in how your cousins and brothers were all unique but got along so well. He also notices that you were practically the middle grandchild; all the boys were older than you, Finn is just three years older than you and then everyone younger than you were all girls, the oldest being 11. His brown eyes couldn’t help but follow you around as you interact with your family and he couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster. “Ay man,” Your brother nudged him out of his daze. “Come to the store with us.” It was more of a command than a question. Matt nodded getting up and following all the boys out the side door. “Hey!” They all froze from the sound of your voice. Even though you were the princess of your family and it was their job to protect you, he could tell they were very much scared of you. “Where are you going?” “To the store.” Her cousin quipped. But, her (y/e/c) eyes were on Matt. “Where are you going?” She inquired. “Um...I wa-was going to the stor-” He stammered before Finn slung an arm around him. “Relax Y/N, we’ll bring your boyfriend back in one piece.” He teased, leaving you quite embarrassed.

Every time a door opened, Y/N’s eyes would wander over, until eventually, the hoard of boys shuffled in. Matt followed behind them, but even with the glasses shielding his eyes, she could make out the glossy, pink orbs that matched his blush. He soon shuffled to the couch to sit next to you. “I didn’t know what going to the store meant.” He laughed into your shoulder, which gained a couple of laughs. “Well, now you know.” You told him. “Are we going to eat soon, I’m hungry.” He whispered. “Lucky for you, we had to wait for you guys to get back.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Are you mad at me?” He asked and you shook your head no. A dopey smile fell on his lips. “You’re so sweet!” You chuckled and pulled him up from the couch. “Come on, let’s say grace.” Y/N made sure to be far from the other boys so they would be caught joking while Grandma said grace. Technically, Matt and she weren’t together, but she wanted him to make a good impression because hopefully, one day, she would or he would gain the confidence to actually define what their relationship was. Dinner was great, he surprisingly held his own and your Aunts liked that he had a large appetite, your big cousins and brothers strangely enjoyed him too, your little cousins thought he was nice because he played with them, your Uncles and Dad liked him because he knew how to play spades (thanks to Uncle Lando!), and your mom just thought: “He’s the one!” You really DID NOT want to hear that, because you really didn’t want to admit to anyone, even yourself that you felt something really strong for him. But, you would try to keep your mother’s intuition in the back of her head.

Matt stood outside checking the status of the Knights and the General, he chuckled at the name. So far everything was good and there were no messages. The door slid open causing him to turn around and see you. “Hi,” You whispered. “Hi,” He smiled. You walked over to him on the deck. “Did you have a good time?” Y/N asked. “Good? Y/N this was the best Thanksgiving I ever had.” He did the boyish smile that made your heart flutter and you were giddy. “I’m glad it was Matthias.” You cooed. “Hey, my mom was very religious when she was pregnant with me!” He raised his hands up. You laughed: “No, no, I like it it’s cute and different, not basic like Matthew.” You smiled up at him. Silence filled the space between them as the voice of Whitney Houston faintly played in the background. “I’m really glad you invited me.” Matt smiled. “Anytime,” You looked down quickly so he couldn’t see your blushing smile. Matt turned to see your family so entertained in whatever was going in the living room and he realized this is the first time the pair was alone. He placed his right hand on your waist, causing you to jump. “Um...sor- do you want to dance?” A blush was spreading from the tip of his nose to the back of his neck. “Yes,” You whispered at placed your hand in his and began to sway. Your mother was telling off your father about something when she stopped: “Look!” She pointed at the two kids dancing alone at the deck. “Uh-uh.” Your father shook his head and your mother hit him, before smiling at the sight of her happy daughter.

#Happy Thanksgiving #star wars #star wars poc #matt the radar technician #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x oc #kylo x you #black reader #kylo x black reader #kylo ren x black reader #modern au

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sithlordintraining · 6 years

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Knight of the Night (Modern Superhero/Vigilante Au!Matt)

A/N: HAPPY THANKSGIVING!! As a treat for an eventful day, here is a Thanksgiving special of Knight of the Night. You honestly don’t need to read the whole series to read this story. But, if you do like it, I recommend you checking it out.

Summary: Matt Organa-Solo, a 21-year old psychology student at Academia: University of First Order. He was the only child of Senator Leia Organa-Solo and Retired Chief of Police Han Organa-Solo. It was a problematic community, but not as terrible as some other towns and colleges. But somehow, he always found himself always somehow saving one someone, literally. After a crazy night, will Matt dare venture to become the hero this place needs?

Vol. #8- Invitation Only (Thanksgiving Special)

The leaves crunched beneath the Doc Martens owned by Y/N and Matt. Matt turned to give her a soft smile, which was gifted with a joyful laugh. Over the past few weeks, the pair were growing closer; dare to say even dating. Of course, nothing was stated that this was true nor sealed with a kiss. But, it was their actions that made it all too clear. Matt was always meeting up with you, getting you food and drinks; and you were always making him happy, showing him new things and places, and just being super cute, the both of them. The cafe’s bell rung out as Matt held the door open for her. Sliding into the booth, Matt sat across from her and watched her remove her scarf. (Y/e/c) eyes sparkled at him. “Your nose is red.” Y/N smiled at him. “URGH!” He let out loudly and dramatically dropped his head down. He heard the giggle escape your lips before hands threaded to his blond locks. His chocolate eyes peered over his gold rims as he sniffled. A pout fell on her glossed lips. Matt had a little cold and hadn’t really been able to hang out. Also, it could be because he didn’t wear the appropriate clothing as Kylo Ren. But, he couldn’t help it. You were a very outgoing girl and he had to ensure your safety even if you didn’t want it.

Midway through their meal, Matt noticed the shrug of her shoulders. “Why are you nervous?” He asked as her fork hit the plate. “Am not!” She chuckled. Two fingers pressed against tense shoulders, they fell down and Matt’s eyes crinkled as he saw your embarrassed face. “You know you can’t tell me anything.” He said holding your stare. You sat on your hands, focusing on keeping your shoulders still. “Are your parents coming back for Thanksgiving?” She asked. Matt shook his head no; “My dad is going to be in Panama with my Uncles, to celebrate their independence day; and my mom will probably be at some summit on the other side of the world.” He said unbothered and that bothered you. “Would you like to, possibly, come to Thanksgiving with my family?” Matt was taken aback. This was a big step in your relationship that wasn’t a relationship. “Yo-you don’t have to do that Y/N.” His fingers ran through his hair. “No Matt, I want you to come.” Your smile was so pressuring he didn’t want to disappoint you, but he didn’t want to feel like a burden and the Knights. “Y/N, I-I, I’m sorry I can’t impose like that.” He stammered. “You won’t!” Your hands wrapped around his larger one. “My parents always tell me I should invite more friends over and I can’t invite Phasma over because of Finn. And Rey is not allowed, that’s another story for another time; I hope this doesn’t seem like the process of elimination because I really want you there with me.” Biting your lip, your eyes were focused on him. “I’ll try and make it.” He fixed his glasses and that answer seemed to satisfy you. He knew Nassar had a family and would want to go away even if he didn’t say anything; Olcan was getting better, but he couldn’t leave him alone. So maybe, it was time to recruit more Knights.

He had agreed to come to Thanksgiving, that had Y/N just bursting at the seams. It might’ve been fall, but your smile made each day warmer, or that could’ve been global warming. And seeing your smile just made him happy, the happiest he has ever been in probably like ever! But there was still little problem that followed him. As Kylo, there was this one pest that continued to bother the Knights even after the fact they’ve been denied an invitation to the knights. It was late and the bass could be felt all around Phasma; it was hot, people were sticking to each other and she had to pee. Stumbling in her 5-inch heels, she made her way to the ladies room only to see a line. She rolled her eyes and made her way to the back exit. She propped the door open to gain access from the empty alleyway, or so she thought. “Aye, pretty girl!” A voice made Phasma jumped. She sucked her teeth as she felt the warm liquid slide down her knee. Turning, two slightly shorter guys began to approach her with a sinister smile. “Why are you out here alone?” One of the guys asked. Her face twisted up: “What?” The two boys laughed and began saying something in a different language. Rolling her eyes she started to make her way back to the club before one of them grabbed her. She brushed him off, just to have the two them grab her. With ice cold blue eyes, she stared at them.

The Captain; that’s what he called Phasma. Gave her a silver helmet to find her at any given moment. She was quite aggressive, so he let her run practice along with Nassar. They instantly clicked maybe because they both came from military families and knew how everything ran. Matt thought it would be great to send her out to the women who contacted them; he thought she would kill him for typecasting her but she enjoyed being a “feminist hero” while not dressing like Wonder Woman, yet still being shiny. A laugh rumbled through Matt’s chest as he thought about it as he waited outside the door to your family’s home. The door opened to show two identical boys looking at him; Matt blinked behind his glasses not knowing what to say. “Uh...Hi, I’m Matt, I’m a,” He cleared his throat. “Y/N’s friend.” The boys face lit up. “Ohhhh! Okay, come in, man.” They pulled him in. The scent of food filled his nostrils and music mixed with the voices of children hit his ears. It was just an environment that he had never been in. He was the only child in his entire family; the only companion he ever had was a brown Tibetan Mastiff named Chewbacca, but even that gift for him chose to side with his father. Matt walked into the room, feeling all out of place in the warm-hearted house. “Hey, man!” The familiar voice pulled him out of his daze. He turned to see Finn and four other guys approach him. “This is Matt.” Finn nodded towards him and the three behind him expression changed quickly. Before he could actually read all of them, his name was being called. “MATT!” Your cheery voice alerted them all as you descended the stairs.

Matt doesn’t know how he found himself surrounded by your brothers, cousins, and Finn. But there he was with a drink in hand listening to west coast rap. “Man, he goes to Berkeley and now he swears he from Cali.” One of your cousin jokes. Matt wasn’t really paying attention. He was too busy looking at all the pictures of you and your family, and pictures that stretched back generations. He took in how your cousins and brothers were all unique but got along so well. He also notices that you were practically the middle grandchild; all the boys were older than you, Finn is just three years older than you and then everyone younger than you were all girls, the oldest being 11. His brown eyes couldn’t help but follow you around as you interacted with your family and he couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster. “Ay man,” Your brother nudged him out of his daze. “Come to the store with us.” It was more of a command than a question. Matt nodded getting up and following all the boys out the side door. “Hey!” They all froze from the sound of your voice. Even though you were the princess of your family and it was their job to protect you, he could tell they were very much scared of you. “Where are you going?” “To the store.” Her cousin quipped. But, her (y/e/c) eyes were on Matt. “Where are you going?” She inquired. “Um...I wa-was going to the stor-” He stammered before Finn slung an arm around him. “Relax Y/N, we’ll bring your boyfriend back in one piece.” He teased, leaving you quite embarrassed.

Everytime a door opened, Y/N’s eyes would wander over, until eventually, the hoard of boys shuffled in. Matt followed behind them, but even with the glasses shielding his eyes, she could make out the glossy, pink orbs that matched his blush. He soon shuffled to the couch to sit next to you. “I didn’t know what going to the store meant.” He laughed into your shoulder, which gained a couple of laughs. “Well, now you know.” You told him. “Are we going to eat soon, I’m hungry.” He whispered. “Lucky for you, we had to wait for you guys to get back.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Are you mad at me?” He asked and you shook your head no. A dopey smile fell on his lips. “You’re so sweet!” You chuckled and pulled him up from the couch. “Come on, let’s say grace.” Y/N made sure to be far from the other boys so they would be caught joking while Grandma said grace. Technically, Matt and she weren’t together, but she wanted him to make a good impression because hopefully, one day, she would or he would gain the confidence to actually define what their relationship was. Dinner was great, he surprisingly held his own and your Aunts liked that he had a large appetite, your big cousins and brothers strangely enjoyed him too, your little cousins thought he was nice because he played with them, your Uncles and Dad liked him because he knew how to play spades (thanks to Uncle Lando!), and your mom just thought: “He’s the one!” You really DID NOT want to hear that, because you really didn’t want to admit to anyone, even yourself that you felt something really strong for him. But, you would try to keep your mother’s intuition in the back of her head.

P.S.: Hope you enjoyed with your food babies. This one is dedicated to @afor-alex who LOVES this and I don’t post any new chapters on here. But, hopefully, you guys have fallen in love with some good wholesome Matt.

#Knight of the Night #KotN #matt #Matt the radar technician #matt the technician #matt the radar technician x reader #matt the radar technician fanfic #matt the radar technician imagine #Kylo #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagines #kylo ren x oc #kylo x poc #star wars poc #POC #poc reader #black reader

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sierrabinondo · 6 years

Text

summer tour days 10 + 11, post-tour thoughts

wow it literally took me over a month to get this entry up, sorry haha. santino roasted me for this several weeks ago and it still took me this long. i’ve been chronically bummed out for what seems like a month now, so it was hard to muster up the will to write. period, actually. it’s been really hard for me to write music lately i literally have to push myself and i find no joy in the things i love anymore!

anyways, here’s the last 2-3 days of our tour!

day 10 - philadelphia

sunlight peered in through the glass sliding door behind me as i woke up around 8:00 am in a living room with 8 other people, packed tightly across deflated sleeping bags and worn-in couches. i felt tired, but i was up already. i knew that if i didn’t get up and shower now, i was going to be waiting for five other people to shower before me.

everyone took a few hours to get ready before we decided to head out to breakfast together, including jorge. we had a lovely lil family breakfast at this nice cafe about 10 minutes from jorge’s house. it was a small spot overlooking the valley that had an expansive coffee and espresso drink menu. i got a cappuccino that had some FUN art in it and a Very Disappointing Eggs Benedict. I was a dumbass and asked for the florentine benedict with lox added, instead of asking for the lox benedict with spinach added, which would have cost me significantly less hahaha.

look at how small this bullshit is

sitting at a table with my bandmates and julie, we agreed that despite how long we had been on the road that we felt like we could keep going. i could tell everyone felt drained, but content. it’s like we all knew we were enjoying the last moments of freedom away from our boring lives back home and were cherishing each other’s company.

after paying our checks we said our goodbyes to jorge and piled into the van. we had a much shorter drive due to staying in state college, but still hit some traffic approaching philly. not a surprise. it was also weird arriving philly from the west and not coming over the ben franklin bridge, haha. as we drove towards south street we admired the sight of the chinese lantern festival, which we sadly wouldn’t have time for. as opposed to missing DGD’s tour, i was sure i’d live vicariously through photos of it from my friend’s back home and didn’t feel too bad.

i completely forgot that south street is one of the busiest streets in philly and is mere minutes away from TLA. i realized i had been here before and felt my blood pressure rise realizing parking would be impossible. however, behind the venue we found a shoddy dirt parking lot. skeptical of whether or not this was a good idea, we approached the lot attendant and asked if it was okay to park, explaining that we needed a clear space behind us for opening the trunk to get gear out. the attendant obliged to our request, or so we thought.

i’m not gonna lie, i had NEVER heard of the tusk before we played there and it was actually a cool spot. the staff were cool and it was much more spacious than the pictures led me to believe. loading in up a couple flights of stairs was just the worst part. we played with our friends in copley woods which was great, and played with another philly local old city revival. another touring band also hopped on last minute. our set was purely okay??? we all agreed it wasn’t my best set but whatever i had fun and people still dug us so that was fine. jaime and santino had to be like lined up behind one another with their amps and then joe got one whole side to himself hahaha.

photo credit: julie yi photography

i’m going a little out of order; i’m pretty positive this actually happened before our set. but out of nowhere i’m in the upper level of the venue by the stage and merch when julie texts the tour group chat BUGGING saying “HELP COME DOWNSTAIRS WE’RE GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE LOT”. so both bands run downstairs to scope out the situation, anticipating hell in the form of trying to find a new parking spot by south street in philly. what happened was, the lot attendant parked a vehicle behind ours, and when confronted about his promise that he made, he threatened to kick us out of the lot. however, jaime somehow magically de-escalated the situation somehow so the attendant agreed to move the car and everything was fine hahaha.

the night was wonderful because santino’s dad came out and we hung out with some real cool people, the only downer was we had to stay later than anticipated because the promoter added that fifth band/touring band on the end, AND, the touring band were the only people who listened to the promoter and played a long set. yeah, the promoter wanted us all to play for 45 minutes but all of us were like, fuck that. but this band ACTUALLY had that much material so they played FOR AN HOUR. ALL of us stayed and we watched them, but we were so fucking tired and we just wanted to go home. we stayed because we understood the importance of supporting other bands, and these people were out here all the way from denver, colorado. but we were so done. and on this night we were staying at my house in brick so we were only an hour and forty five minutes away from a comfortable sleep. AND, my boyfriend was going to be coming over late too so i was just dying to get home.

after loading out, a taco bell trip and a relatively short drive, we made it to my house around 1:00 am. and jeremiah still waited up and drove over for me uuugh :’)

day 11 - wallingford, ct

god, waking up to my boyfriend and fresh homemade breakfast by my parents was so, so good after being away for so long. it felt pretty strange to be home, and so briefly, but it was so good. we sadly couldn’t stick around for long after eating breakfast, as we had our van drop-off scheduled for 1:00 PM before our last show of tour in connecticut.

we have shindle drive us up to jaime’s house for one last drive in the van. it’s always sad when you’re in the van for the last day and you know your grand adventure is soon coming to an end. it rained as we drove up parkway north and shindle weaved in and out of shitty new jersey traffic. i definitely did not miss the parkway while i was gone.

shindle wanted to run home quickly to shower and change at home (understandably), so not soon after we unload all of his belongings he takes off. it sucked so badly unloading the van in the rain but what could you do. we started plotting where we were going to get a bite to eat after jaime, julie and i dropped off the van.

i look around at my bandmates and i go, “okay, who has the key?”

everyone stares blankly at each other.

joe goes, “uhhh, i think shindle gave it back to santino?”

santino looks back at us and goes “... i don’t have it.”

we tear apart our bags and turn our pockets inside out. search the interior of the van hoping it was left in the dash or on the floor by accident.

the drop off time for the van is 1:00 PM. it’s 12:15 PM.

and we realize that, shindle still has the key.

shindle’s phone died from the fifteen times i called him. he had left his phone on silent and didn’t look at it while he was driving back to little falls (who would). i had to call bandago and add another day to our rental. it sucked so badly. i was so frustrated that i started crying and jaime’s mom had to console me hahaha. i had to come to terms with the fact that there was literally nothing i could do. we weren’t going to get the key back until we saw shindle later. so i took a deep breath, put myself back together and we just left for the show anyways.

photo credit: julie yi photography

we arrived to wallingford, CT around like, 5:30, maybe 5:50 PM. i felt my throat acting up again. in fact, it started to feel shitty a day prior but i was praying that i could still pull off a good set later that night. julie walked with me from the venue to get throat coat from CVS and hot water from mcdonalds. i couldn’t really go on voice rest; i had to just drink a lot of fluids, warm up as well as i could and hope for the best. cherry street is a small venue/dive kinda place, but i actually really liked it. anthony told me a lot of people have complained about the sound there but we actually had a really easy time. but there were two people doing sound, one was scotty the venue’s regular and then there was a guy named will who ran the board for our set. will was great. scotty was just really nice too haha.

our friends migrant played the show as well as the band visitations. it was really great to see the guys in migrant again; we’ve been playing shows with them since 2016. we both played our first-ever studio at webster show together opening for sianvar before AEG shut all of webster down. because it was such a memorable night and they’re such a great band, we’ve kept in touch since then. visitations were also really awesome; i tried to watch as much as i could in between warm ups. i feel bad that i have to disappear to warm up while bands i’ve never gigged with before play, but i have to.

well it turns out, it was pointless anyways!

yeah, wasn’t fond of the set i played at all. and the sound wasn’t bad either. it was just me. i was really upset. this was our chance to win over people in a state we could easily travel up to and play whenever, and it felt so embarrassing to be up on stage and watch these people hear me blow it haha. its like nails on a chalkboard for me when i hear my mistakes. even if i know what i’m doing sometimes i just blow it anyways. chris knew i was upset too because he just patted me on the shoulder as i slumped off stage like “it’s okay just go do your cool-downs” HAHAHA. but apparently i did something right because scott, *the* sound guy everyone knows at cherry street, bought me a shot LMAO. and some other people from CT chatted us up too, and they bought our merch (and also bought me more drinks). maybe we did do something right for these people to still approach us and have nice things to say. but i still felt like they were being way too nice to me. i still feel like people lie to me. all of the time.

it was so awesome to watch destination dimension play to their hometown, as we were all surrounded by friends of theirs who were shouting the words to future cougar with us. it was so much fun to watch them play. and it was really nice of them to wear our t-shirts on stage haha. i didn’t wear mine but i bought the gray one which i loveee and is so comfy. we didn’t get to hang long after the show ended with them which sucked sooo badly because almost everyone had work the next day. i had the next day off but not everyone was so lucky. we loved touring with destination dimension so so much. it was nice to tour with a band in the same genre. we had such a happy time and we couldn’t wait for the next time we’d all get to see each other.

photo credit: julie yi photography

it’s always so weird, the last day of tour. in the middle of tour, it feels like you’re living in this dreamscape where calendar days barely exist and your only job is to show up, play and then do it all over again the next day. that night, it felt like it all barely even happened. all of tour was already becoming a faint memory. i’d look back at photos and only barely remember what it was like to feel that joy again. and i dreaded how distant every adventure we shared together was about to become.

epilogue

my alarm went off at 9:00 am. i hear sounds of jaime’s dad walking around the kitchen and in minutes time julie wakes up next to me. i lay there for a bit before texting jaime, “you up?” he comes downstairs, i throw my shoes on and my hair up in a ponytail and we go drop off the van.

it feels like tour is over but i’m still with my friends so i feel okay. julie and i grab our belongings from jaime’s house, say goodbye and return for our drive home together. we talk about tour and how fast it flew by. i’m sort of in a rush to get home in time for E3, so julie is kind to oblige and we get her stuff out of my car expediently when we pull up to her house.

i say goodbye to julie and joel, get back into my car and instantly feel my face muscles sink. the rest of the day just sucked.

i’m driving myself home feeling sleepy and don’t even realize it. i run a stop sign and nearly get t-boned by some poor person who didn’t just spend 11 days on 4-5 hours of sleep.

i finally arrive at jeremiah’s apartment in asbury and go to pick up the coffee i bought for my boyfriend, only to realize the ENTIRE cup spilled out everywhere all over the seat.

jeremiah meets me downstairs to help me bring my bags up. there’s just so, so much shit. a heavy bag of clothes, souvenirs, non-perishable food i never ate. i’m happy to see him; i’m happy for a little bit. we place an order for delivery at our favorite taco place, and i’m joking about post-tour depression as i walk out the door to go buy beer downtown real quick. already drinking at 1:30 pm! post-tour depression, is it a thing? probably not. there’s probably nothing wrong with me.

i check my work email and the dread floods in, full force. i did promise that i’d work from home, and i did, but there weren’t a lot of time sensitive matters. i took care of some youtube community engagement, checked stats on videos uploaded while i was gone, checked the socials throughout the day.

i’m home in time for the next E3 conference but i’m not even paying attention. my work laptop sits in front of me, screen glaring back at me as i’m not even using it. i’m on the couch looking out the window and seconds later tears are pouring down my face. seemingly, with no rhyme or reason.

well the crying thing happens like every 3-5 days lmao

but it just, didn’t stop. at one point i turn to jeremiah sobbing hysterically and he just holds me. like a broken record all i could say was “i hate that i have to go back to work tomorrow, i loathe that tour is over and this is just it, no more for the year. i have to wait until next year to go out again.”

and to be transparent, this is sort of the melancholy that has sat with me ever since that day. i wake up five days a week and drive the longest hour and five minutes of my life to work, and back home again in an hour and twenty, sometimes thirty, sometimes forty.

for my entire adulthood (let’s say like going back to age 18), i’ve dreaded my mid-20s. because my parents would warn me “you need a full-time job by the time you turn 26. you’re going to have to worry about health insurance. we’re going to turn over your bills to you.” so since then, my entire experience of living has been haunted by this death clock ticking down to year 26 of my life. so at 18, i said that by age 22 i needed to be somewhere with my music or i needed to give it up. completely.

hah.

the first few years of my 20′s i coasted. my band broke up so there went my shot at playing shows until i found something new. without delving into too much detail- for three years i dated someone and because i wasn’t happy i lost a lot of time. i finally recorded music again towards the end of that relationship. when i left that person at age 22 it felt like an entire world opened up to me. an enormous weight was lifted off my shoulders and i was free. i was starting over, in the best way possible. and then mere weeks after, something serendipitous happened- a friend i met because of that relationship approached me, offering to fill-in for drums for me so that i could play shows.

i was now 23. we were way past the cut-off date for me to be pursuing music seriously. but i couldn’t say no. and now here we are.

i stayed at my dead-end, incredibly far-from-home job for too long and now i’m finding difficulty finding something closer to home. i almost had a job a few times but i got scared of losing the ability to tour due to the nature of each company, so i idiotically turned those opportunities down. it seems like, to get signed to a label, you have to be both churning out digital content AND actively touring. if we could get a booking agent and/or signed to a great label i would quit my job immediately and work at a coffee shop. i just can’t swing an intense touring schedule if i get a serious full-time job in marketing. i just want to see how far i can take this band. yet, i may be screwing my future after the band if i don’t settle for a better job than just starbucks. but i don’t want to settle, at all. i’ve been panicking about this for a year now and recently my stress has become paramount, ruining every other day for me. when i sit down to practice and feel like i’ve barely accomplished anything in that practice session, i break down. because i feel like i’m running out of time. always. i have a finite amount of time and i’m running out.

so if you haven’t seen me lately, that’s probably why. i feel guilty for going out and spending time with friends because i feel like it’s time i could be spending on music. and i work day in and day out on my singing, guitar playing, writing, learning new tools for my craft, maybe i’ll go to kickboxing or the gym so that i stay in shape... and that’s it. and it’s crushing me. managing the band takes the fun out of everything too. i’ve become such an irritable person. i hate it. i feel like i’m not myself anymore. but i don’t think the problem is music. i don’t hate music- i hate this pressure to have every facet of my life fit perfectly together. i hate not having the freedom to only worry about music. being in a serious/active band is time-consuming. i realize i can’t have it all- the stable job with money and benefits and the life of a musician- but the pressures i’ve faced my entire life to settle for security have been making me lose my mind.

i hope that something good happens next year. i hope that something good happens sooner than that. i’m pretty sure this is how i wrapped the last tour journal too. but this has been my entire life- praying that things will just work out and that something good will happen. a year from now when i look back, i hope that i can regret any worry i’ve ever had. but if i find myself looking back in regret, no longer able to tour/pursue music seriously, i’m just grateful it all happened.

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suckmycoxon · 7 years

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Hi :) could you give me a little background on omd? I don't know anything of the band except for a few songs, so maybe you could say your knowledge of the band and the members?

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THRILLED I AM TO DO THIS

Let’s get to the band members first!

Andy McCluskey

Here’s the bossy one. As he puts it, he’s the butcherwho cuts off the raw materials of the song; the director who basically tellsPaul what to do, the one who sees the big picture, while Paul is the surgeonwho splices the details. He sings, plays bass, and writes the lyrics for mostof their songs. And he always dances madly, even in the recent years! For a58-year old guy with bad knees, he’s VERY energetic. So as you can see, he’sthe dominant one. Powerful, loud, cheerful, salty as fuck, thoroughly hatesrock ‘n’ roll, claims he hates cliché love songs but writes them anyway. I lovehim nonetheless

Paul Humphreys

THIS IS MY FAVORITE GUY OFF OMD. MY LOVE. MY HANDSOMEHAMSTER. HE’S CUTE ISN’T HE? Alright, so… he’s the keyboardist, the creativeand technical one. He’s the one who usually comes up with a melody and thenAndy directs how the song should turn out. He’s the one who does most of thesynth sounds! In the old days, he used to build his own “noise machine” bymessing with the circuits and such of old, broken radios. Don’t tell me that’snot badass. He also sings in a couple of OMD’s songs, most notably in“Electricity”, “Souvenir”, “(Forever) Live and Die”, and “Secret”.Personality-wise, he’s the complete opposite of Andy. He’s more quiet, shy,soft, and just lovely overall

Other members are MalcolmHolmes (the long-haired one in the picture above) who was the drummer from the beginning of the band until 2013. Inthat year, he had a cardiac arrest and temporarily died so he had to retire.From 2013 onwards, Stuart Kershaw tookthe drummer position. Another member is MartinCooper (the one with the blue shirt), the saxophonist/keyboardist/occasional bassist. He’s still with theband until now! Except when OMD broke up because he and Mal went along withPaul instead of Andy, but I’ll get to that later…

They embrace the “punk” attitude in terms of music. Youknow, making music as simple as possible. They always say this joke of “We’rethe punks of electronic. Punk plays with one chord, we play with one finger!”

Now, it’s history time. Let’s go back to the 70s

Andy and Paul had always been the hipsters of that era. Theylistened to electronic bands like Kraftwerk, Neu, La Dusseldorf (Kraftwerk,mostly) while their peers listened to prog rock. Andy was in a band and Paulwas the roadie. Despite always being in the same school, that was when theynoticed how they shared the similar interest towards Kraftwerk, so Andy quitthe band and formed his own with Paul that we now know as the pretentiouslynamed Orchestral Manoeuves in the Dark

They started off as a supporting band fo Joy Division inEric’s Club in Liverpool. They didn’t expect to have a longlasting career… theyreally thought it would be their first and last gig. They just wanted to provethemselves and their mates that they dared to go on stage doing somethingdifferent; doing weird electronic music, hence the odd band name. With such apretentious name, they wanted to show the audience how they were doingsomething different

And then they were offered a second gig in Manchester.That’s where they met Tony Wilson, and he signed them up to Factory Records.Then “Electricity” was recorded, and Tony sent it to various major labels, oneof which was Virgin Records, so they moved to Virgin. It was in 1979/1980 Ithink? And with their 1980 album, Organisation (their second one. Their firstone, the self-titled one, was released in the same year) – which they claim asbeing influenced by Joy Division, so this album is basically the child of JoyDivision and Kraftwerk – which included “Enola Gay”, they became well known.They got even bigger with the Architecture and Morality album, which has“Souvenir”, “Joan of Arc”, “Maid of Orleans”…

They commercially dropped dead with Dazzle Ships (1983). Itwas an experimental album, which I personally think sounds great, but probablynot acceptable enough at that time. Despite having quite successful hits like“Telegraph” and “Genetic Engineering”, that album almost single-handedly killedtheir career. So they took a safer path in their next album, Junk Culture(1984), embracing a more pop-ish sound. It can be heard on their catchy hitsfrom Junk Culture, like “Locomotion” and “Talking Loud and Clear”

Their 1985 album, Crush, was produced by Stephen Hague, whowas also the producer for New Order and Pet Shop Boys. They finally got intoUS’ charts with that album, I guess?? Regarding that album and that year, theyoften say something like “We were trying to break America, but America broke usinstead”, so I can’t be quite sure of what happened… commercially, it waspretty successful, I think… with singles like “Secret” and “La Femme Accident”

It was also in circa 1985 where their most notable song, “IfYou Leave”, was also made. Fun fact: they only wrote it in a day, because JohnHughes changed the ending suddenly and called them and said, “Hey, the song youwrote won’t fit to the new ending, could you write a new one?” right beforethey went on tour. The track that was initially going to be used in Pretty inPink, “Goddess of Love”, was later put on The Pacific Age (1986). Speaking ofwhich, that album has “(Forever) Live and Die”, which is a BANGER and is sungby my handsome hamster, Paul

Then they broke up sometime in late 80s. 1989, I think. Theyowed the company a lot of money, so they made a Best Of album. But even thatwasn’t enough. Their choice was either to make another new album (which canmake money, quite possibly, but due to their past experiences, they barely gotany money left because the touring expenses, royalties to their manager, etcwere so expensive) or to stop and just wait for the money to come from theirprevious albums’ royalties (I’m not really sure about this one, they’ve toldthe story a couple of times during interviews but I could never 100% understandthe story). This is where Andy and Paul went their separate ways. Andy chose tocarry on while Paul chose to stop. So Andy carried the name OMD alone (underhis stubbornness). A couple of years later, Paul, Martin, and Malcolm formedThe Listening Pool. Both were obscured by the new trend in 90s that was Britpopand such (Andy often implies that he blames Britpop for the obscurity ofelectronic bands and I loathe him for that smh I’m a Britpop hoe, fuck youAndy). Andy (as OMD) released 3 albums on that decade, tho. Later on, he formedAtomic Kitten

And then they were reunited in 2006/2007, because they wereasked to perform in a German TV. Then they thought, “Oh, people still like us.Maybe we could make music again.” And so they did… they released History ofModern in 2010, English Electric in 2013, and their latest record, ThePunishment of Luxury, was released a month ago! Unlike the 80s, they are nolonger pressured by their record company, so they’re really doing this purelyfor fun. By the way, their latest single off their latest record, “What Have WeDone”, is sung by Paul and it’s fucking glorious. You should listen to it ifyou haven’t

On a more personal note, I find it weird how they’re bothvery influential and infamous. I mean… they don’t only influence other synthpopbands, but also an alternative like Radiohead. I heard that “Fitter Happier” byRadiohead was influenced by “Genetic Engineering”, and now that I think aboutit, “Fitter Happier” does sound like something out of Dazzle Ships. I’ve been aRadiohead fan since 2011/2012 and yet I literally never heard of OMD until thisyear; not until I got to New Order and was getting more cultured regarding 80ssynthpop acts

Lastly, here are some trivia you might not want to know butsounds like fun to share:

Before realizing that they could be actual musicians, Andy wanted to be an archaeologist, while Paul wanted to be an electric engineer

Atomic Kitten was basically Karl Bartos’ (Kraftwerk) idea. Andy wanted to keep writing songs, but he wasn’t confident enough to perform the songs as OMD, so he thought of just handing them to someone else. Then Karl suggested that he should create a pop group where they would sing his songs. Andy thought, “What’s the most popular group nowadays? Oh, I know, 3-piece girls!”

In the recent years, OMD often have underwears thrown at them lmao. Especially during “(Forever) Live and Die”. Poor Paul having to deal with nasty fans (but honestly… I’d do the same). But sometimes they have hazardous shits thrown at them too. One time, Paul had his head hit by a glass bottle (I’LL FUCKING MURDER ANYONE WHO DID THAT. HOW DARE THEY HURT MY BABY). And Andy almost got decapitated when someone threw a metal tray aimed to his neck. Terrifying

Somehow, when they were touring, the bus they rode on resemble a group of terrorists’ bus, so they were surrounded by guns… and luckily, “Enola Gay” was already a big hit, so Andy just waved a magazine with their faces on it and said “’Enola Gay’! Pop stars! Not terrorists!” jesus Christ

There’s actually a version of “Souvenir” where it was sung by Andy. In 2015, Paul was hospitalized in New York, but he insisted that they should do this gig in Perth, so they did, only 3 of them… “Souvenir” was on the set, and Andy sang it. It was… okay, I guess. I’m so used to Paul’s soft voice singing that, so it’s kinda weird to hear Andy’s powerful voice singing it

…I’m sorry if you expected a shortsummary and get this re-writing of OMD’s Wikipedia page instead. I never realizedhow deep I am in their ass until I answered this message with a 1600-word essayabout OMD that was based on my memory alone. Good god

I’m awfully thrilled every time someonementions OMD-related to me, so don’t hesitate if you want to talk about them tome!!

#I rarely get any anon so I’m always delighted every time I get one #ESPECIALLY THIS ONE #the 1600-word part is not an exaggeration… I wrote this on word and it was literally more than 1600 words #which is why I took a long time to answer this… sorry!#also I made that gif especially for this anon

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jkgrl · 7 years

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Say You Wont Let Go

Jungkook x Reader // oneshot // 5k words

Summary: Jungkook just wanted to have one night where he didn't think about you, but unfortunately for him that can never happen.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, mentions of alcohol and vomiting

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG!! I feel so bad but ive spent a long ass time on this so I hope you like this oneshot!!! Its inspired by the song say you wont let go by James Arthur I literally love that song so much. enjoy!

Jungkook was hellbent on not going to the club that night. He really was. After an extremely long, and tiring concert all he wanted to do was crash in the dorms, and play Mario Kart with the rest of his band mates while consuming a copious amount of junk food. Unfortunately for him, his hyungs were all riding their post concert high and wanted to finish the night with shots and girls.

After getting back to the dorm Jungkook dove straight for his room, avoided the pestering comments from his friends about how he ‘needed to get out more.’ And ‘it wasn't healthy to drink straight from the two liter pop bottle.’ Yeah, okay as if that were true.

Once Jungkook was in his room he body slammed onto his bed. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the many messages, subconsciously telling himself he wasn't hoping for one certain message from one certain person.

He was cut off by a repeated rapping sound from the door. Jungkook buries his head into his pillow and groans. Why couldn't everyone leave him in his depressed state alone?

“Let! Me! In! Kookie!” Shouts a deep voice with fervent purpose.

“Yah, Taehyung I just want to be alone right now.” He grumbles while trudging his way to the door unlocking it and peering at the tall boy with sad puppy eyes in front of him.

He jutted out his bottom lip in his signature pout, and that was enough for Jungkook to let him in. Sad Taehyung never failed to make Jungkook into a big puddle.

“Come to the club tonight with me? It'll be fun yeah?” He grasped Jungkook’s arm and ran past him, wrenching him deeper into their shared dorm room.

Once in the middle of the room Taehyung started to twirl around still arms linked with Jungkook laughing jovially. Moonlight from the window cascaded them in shadow as they pirouetted and pirouetted.

“Alright, alright. Let's stop now.” Jungkook said through breathy puffs of air that fanned over Taehyung's face. Pulling his hands out of Taehyung's he flopped down on the bed into a pile of pillows and blankets. Yeah, there was no way he was going to go clubbing when he had such a comfy bed.

Taehyung flitted around their dorm room, grabbing what he called ‘the essentials’, which basically meant breath mints, and a change of clothes in case he vomits on himself. Jungkook let out little grumbles of protests when he was suddenly being pulled him from the solitude of his warm bed by Taehyung.

“Yah! Leave me alone I'm comfy!” Jungkook groaned as he rolled onto his side clinging to his bed for dear life. Taehyung was having none of that as he grabbed Jungkook’s blankets and ripped them off him in one swift motion.

“You know what you need tonight?” He asked as he got real close to Jungkook. That shit eating grin plastered on his face that always seemed to be there when he was up to no good. “To. get. laid.” He said enunciating each word slowly so the point stuck in Jungkook’s brain.

He flopped back down on the bed, staring up at Taehyung’s boxy grin. “Damn you're right.” Jungkook sighed out.

“Of course I'm right! I always am! Now if you'll excuse me…” Taehyung trailed off, pulling his shirt over his head, and grabbing a bottle of cologne. He doused himself entirely in the smelly perfume while making sure to flash Jungkook his tan exposed torso.

“Make sure to do that at the club. The ladies will be all over you if you do a strip tease on the dance floor.” He giggled as he poked Taehyung’s squishy sides.

“The ladies would be all over you too Kookie if you just tried.” That comment wiped the smile from Jungkook’s face completely, his giggling long forgotten as his face formed into one of anger.

“You know why I don't try.” He grumbles pissed off to the point of no return and pointing his finger into Taehyung's chest forcefully. “Don't fucking bring her up again.”

He felt shitty. He really did. Especially when he saw the way hurt flashed through Taehyung's puppy eyes, but he couldn't help it. The boys knew not to bring you up around Jungkook in fear of sending him back into a downward spiral.

It's been exactly eight months since you left him, and with each passing day Jungkook has been able to breath better and better, but that's only because he has wiped away every reminder of you. The only thing he can't seem to get rid of is his memories of you.

But his image of you has faded. When he tried to picture you all he got was blurred lines and fuzzy features. He's forgetting the way you looked in the morning sleeping next to him. He's even forgetting the way you smiled at him like he was your everything. When you left, you burned everything he thought he knew about you, leaving him grasping for any idea of you. Now it's been months, and he's finally getting better. He's even thinking about hooking up with someone just to feel some type of love again, but then Taehyung had to go and mention you. He didn't even have to say your name, all he had to do was give Jungkook that signature look. It's the face that says ‘I'm sorry someone fucked you over to the point you can't go out anymore.’ Jungkook has become very akin to that look.

Sighing heavily he looks back at Taehyung's sulking figure leaving the room. “Wait Tae, shit I'm sorry I'm such a mess.” Jungkook garbled out, his voice breaking towards the end.

“It's okay man,” Taehyung says as he nearly runs back towards Jungkook, enveloped him in a great, big bro hug, with a pat on the back and everything. “You've made so much progress Kookie. I hate to see you waste away in this room, playing Mario Kart and thinking about some girl.” He mumbles, pulling Jungkook almost impossibly closer to him.

“You're right. Time to move on, am I right?” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as he pulled away from Taehyung's tight grip. “Come on. Let's go.” He said finally.

Taehyung's eyes bugged out of his head and he grasped Jungkook by the shoulders. “You mean it? You're actually gonna go clubbing with us?” He shouted.

“Yeah, I'm over her. Let's get shit faced.” Jungkook said with a definitive tone. Taehyung whooped and hollered, grabbing his Kookie by the neck, and dragging him down the hall, and out the dorm with the five other boys. All of them chanting about how smashed they were going to get.

As the door to the limo closed Jungkook had brief thoughts of you flashing through his mind, but he quickly washed them away with a shot...and then another… and then another...

---

By the time they reached the club Jungkook was on top of the world. That was probably due to the fact that he had downed a few and was possibly going to get alcohol poisoning by the end of night, if Yoongi hadn't snatched the bottle away from his needy hands.

Jungkook had let out a whimper of protest before he groaned and pressed his head against the cool glass of the window. He stared at the people who shook in the cold weather, waiting desperately to get in the club, and maybe it was because he was smashed, or maybe it was because deep down he missed you, but he thought for a split second that the girl standing just beyond the window, in line was you.

He shook his head, letting his fringe fall down in front of his eyes, glancing back up and taking a good look at the girl not twenty feet away. Her hair hung just below her shoulders, curled and pinned into a half up half down. Jungkook knew how she always loved to do her hair like that. She was clad in a navy blue dress that was so unbelievably tight in the chest but flared out as it hit her mid thigh and he shamelessly pressed his nose to the glass, scanning her up, and down, because the eight months did her so well. It did you so well.

Your friend whispered something in your ear and you burst into that familiar, bright smile that Jungkook spent months trying, and failing to visualize. He really couldn't explain what it felt like to see you again after so long. In one way it felt like he could breath for the first time in months, but in another the weight of knowing that you looked so happy without him felt completely suffocating. His chest tightened and he had to take a few calming breaths before he felt like he could move again.

He sat there, glued to his seat with his unresolved feelings on his sleeve. It wasn't until Taehyung was pulling Jungkook by the shirt, forcing him to leave the comfort of the car that he realized he was going to have to face you for the first time in what felt like forever.

Stumbling out of the car he felt like he was underwater. Pressure built in Jungkook ears and the dull screams of the fans were muffled to him as he searched the line for you.

He didn't love you anymore. He didn't. He was positive.

Everything after that happened in slow motion to him. You turned towards the sound of the excitement, a smile still plastered on your face, that is until you saw Jungkook. Immediately you paled, eyes widened, an emotion he couldn't quite pin point flashed through your eyes, and god, you looked just as beautiful up close and it made his heart sting painfully in his chest before he stopped it. Jungkook took a deep breath that burned in his chest as memories of that night when you left him flashed vividly before his eyes. He’d be lying if he said that didn't persuade him into doing what he did next.

It was petty really, but it was all done from a place of deep hurt. He made sure that when you two made eye contact that he looked as unimpressed as possible. His eyes flashing over you like you were never anything to him. Jungkook was sure he was not drunk enough for this because the look on your face made him feel ill. Really, really ill. Even though he though a part of him kind of hated you for what you did, he never wanted to hurt you. He was just too self consumed in the moment, thinking only of keeping his image together.

It was a low blow, he thought to himself, but what was even lower was the way he blew past you, acting like you were just another crazed fan. He walked straight into the club following his 6 band members like he couldn't be bothered by your presence at all. His eyes were so trained to their back’s he never saw how your face fell, and how you had to take a minute to stop the tears that threatened to spill at the near sight of him.

Standing outside the pulsing club you reflected on the progress you had made over the past eight months. It was filled with many breakdowns that left you hyperventilating and grasping for any small reminder of Jungkook. All that time was supposed to have made you strong. It was building you up to the moment when you finally ran into him again and were able to not lose it at the sight of him, but here you were crying on a curb about a boy who just didn't care anymore.

You wrapped your arms around your torso struggling to keep it all together. Pressing your hands into your sides to try and stay grounded you repeated one thing like a mantra.

You didn't love him anymore. You didn't. You were positive.

That's why you pulled yourself together in a moment, and you turned to your friends and became the life of the party again because if Jungkook couldn't find it in him to care, then neither could you.

---

Jungkook sat stewing with anger as he watched you from the VIP section. His eyes possessively following you around the club, watching as you downed shot after shot. His anger growing each time you carelessly tossed your head back to the point he had to clench his hands into fists at his sides so they didn't shake.

Seeing you after so long was a thousand times harder than he thought it would be. Jungkook had really thought he had made so much progress in moving away from you. He had spent months pushing all aspects of your existence out of his life, from throwing away the little presents you had bought him, to burning the letters you had written him. Jungkook had gone completely cold turkey, and now his body was reacting to the process of having to see you again in the worst possible way.

It was tearing him up really, how bad he wanted you. From the moment he saw you from behind that window he felt like jumping from the moving car and clinging to you, his body craving your presence so much he felt like dying on the spot.

Watching the way your hips swayed in time to the music, Jungkook let out a string of obscenities. His gaze glued to you as you let your body feel the music, you were dancing like a stripper, and it was fucking pissing him off, and also turning him on. Which was very confusing for Jungkook.

Even when dating Jungkook you were always a source of male attention. So it came as no surprise to him when your dirty dancing caught the eyes of many suitors across the club.

Jungkook shook with anger as he watched the way others lustfully gazed your way. His nostrils flaring as he clenched and unclenched his grip on his beer. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much but it just did. He hated this absolute power you had over him, always making him worry, and always causing him hurt.

He promised himself he wasn't going to intervene. Telling himself that you weren't his problem anymore, he tried to pull his gaze away from you. He thought he'd focus his attention on the group of girls that had been invited up to the VIP section by his friends, but as he gave hem a once over he realized none of them had half the appeal that you possessed.

Jungkook sighed deeply and raked his fingers through his black hair, pulling at his roots. Something he did when he was particularly agitated. Looking back at the dance floor he suddenly felt panic rise in his chest when he couldn't spot you. He scanned the throngs of people desperately searching for any sign of you.

All he could see was people's bodies grinding against one another. The thought of you being one them made bile rise in the back of his throat because even though eight months had passed just thinking of you with another guy kept Jungkook up at night.

Everything comes to a complete halt for Jungkook when he sees you backed into a corner by one of the men who had been shamelessly staring at you just moments ago. The look on your face was one of complete revolt as your tiny hands shoved weakly against the large man’s chest.

Bolting past Taehyung and his friends, Jungkook takes the stairs from the VIP section two at a time. Once the ground he rips through people on the dance floor. Keeping in mind that each step is taking him closer to you he runs at a speed he didn't even know possible.

By time Jungkook shoves the last person out of the way his black hair is matted to his forehead with sweat and he was breathing heavily.

The man’s hands groped your sides aggressively as he continually tried to grind against you despite your repeated protests. Your hands were slamming against his chest as he pushed into you, but in a moment his heavy weight was lifting off of you, your hands flailing against nothing.

Opening your eyes you're met with a scene you never expected to see. Jungkook has your assailant pinned to the ground. The vein in his neck pronounced and his face all screwed up into something nasty as he gripped the man by shirt speaking to him in a very deep, malice filled tone.“Don't fucking touch my girl ever again. I swear to god the next time I see you I'll kill you. I fucking will.” His voice dripping with enmity for the man below him as he tightly gripped his shirt, pulling it so taut that it was starting to rip.

“Jesus man, we were just having some fun! I didn't know she was yours I swear!” The man shouted clearly afraid from beneath Jungkook.

Letting out a bitter laugh Jungkook stood up, pulling the man with him in one swift motion. Dusting off his shirt and fearfully glancing between you and Jungkook your attacker scurried away with his tail between his legs.

If you were being honest Jungkook's raw fury had scared the hell out of you, but before you knew it his soft side was back and he was pulling you into his chest gently. Cradling your head into his shoulder and running a hand over you soothingly as you felt goosebumps rise on your skin like a map of where he was touching you.

Jungkook pulled back and looked you in the eye. Even in the dark you lit up his entire world. Club lights bounced off your features causing him to feel illuminated just by your presence. Touching your skin sent jolts of electricity through him leaving him feeling slightly buzzed and even more intoxicated. He couldn't help himself as he ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the strands away from your face so he could see you more clearly.

“Are you okay?” He whispered into the shell of your ear while grasping your hands in his. “Please tell me he didn't hurt you. God, I couldn't live with myself if he did. Just-” Jungkook broke off his sentence by pressing his forehead against yours while closing his eyes and fighting back tears at the thought of someone else touching you.

You both stood there for minutes just drinking in each other's presence after not seeing each other for so long, and maybe it was because you were drunk or maybe it was because you missed him but you breathed him in, your hands grabbing at his jacket, his arms, his hair until you pulled him into you, crashing your lips against his.

Jungkook immediately moaned into the kiss, reaching his hands up to tangle in your hair as he pushed you back against the wall. The music was blaring into both of your ears but the sound was muffled to you two as you fell deeper and deeper into each other.

Jungkook swiped his tongue across your lower lip begging for entrance and you happily gave it to him, remembering just how good Jungkook was at kissing you. It was as soon as you tongues collided though that Jungkook could taste the alcohol on you.

Realization hits him like a freight train because he knew you didn't want this. He remembers how you told him just eight months ago that you didn't want him anymore. It was something that really stuck with him and pained him to ever think about, but in this moment he can even hear your voice as you screamed those awful words to him.

And that's why he pulls back. Narrowly avoiding the way your hands try to pull him back into you because even though he knows all he wants is to kiss you right now, he's not so sure you want that too.

“Jungkook…is something wrong?” Your words slur together and he realizes that it’s the first thing he's heard you say all night. And it's fucking tearing him up because literally everything is wrong.

It's wrong that he kissed you, and ruined all his progress, and it's wrong that you don't actually want him he way he wants you. It's wrong that he just took advantage of you in your drunken state and it's damn right upsetting that you look so beautiful tonight that it physically hurts his heart.

The funniest joke of all though is the fact that you look truly hurt by his rejection as if you actually wanted him, but he knew that it's just the alcohol talking.

“What's wrong is that tomorrow you're gonna wake up and regret even seeing me here let alone kissing me.” Jungkook runs his fingers through his black hair and lets out a deep sigh feeling his insides curl at the look of pain that runs across your face at what he says next. “And I'm gonna wake up tomorrow in the same place I was eight months ago.” He chokes out.

You tentatively take a step forward and press your hand against Jungkook's cheek. He jerks back at the sudden contact almost as if your touch had burned him, but when you prevail he leans into your touch. Fat tears were clumped in his eyelashes and you hold back a sob at the fact you've caused this all.

Because you let go. You let go the love of your life because you were selfish and couldn't stand dating an idol. Your told yourself that by cutting things off in such an aggressive manner Jungkook would stop loving you and be able to move on with his life. Even though it really killed you to see him with someone else, you loved him enough to let him go, and to be happy. You knew it killed him that he couldn't take you out in public, and you knew he hated having to sneak around with you into the night. So you decided what was best was to cut it all off. Get rid off the source of the pain. You being the source.

Painting yourself in a horrible light wasn't that hard, what was hard was seeing the pain it had caused Jungkook. Even now as he stands in front of you, months after your breakup you still see that wrecked boy in front of you, who was letting out whimpers of ‘don't let go’s and ‘I love you’s.

With his cheek still warm in your hand, you close the gap between your bodies. Hot air swimming around you both as you stare into his eyes remembering why you love him so much.

Holding onto your wrist, Jungkook stares completely captivated by the color of your eyes.

“Stay with me tonight, and I'll show you in the morning that I won't regret this.” You whisper pressing your forehead into his and breathing in his scent, the strong smell of Jungkook filling your senses.

His heart sped up in his chest, beating widely as he stared down at you. Before he knew what he was doing he was pulling you out of the doors of the club. The cold air hit him like a ton of bricks but the feeling of your hand in his was enough to keep him warm.

You crawled after Jungkook into the waiting taxi and as soon as he door closed safely behind you he was lifting you into his lap and nuzzling his head into your shoulder.

“I missed this so much.” Jungkook mumbles into your neck as he presses open mouthed kisses onto your skin, your head lolling back, and your eyes fluttering shut.

Jungkook was positively on fire. Wherever your hands hands touched ignited a flame under his skin and he squirmed to press himself closer to your body, craving that heat you provided. Your dress worked its way higher and higher up your thighs as you straddled him. As soon as a he got a view of your lace underwear he let out a strangled moan that made a you feel empowered.

You had always been a great dancer, and Jungkook soon remembered your skills when you started to circle your hips against the growing bulge in his pants. Jungkook couldn't breathe when he looked at you swinging your hips back and forth against him, drinking up every ounce of pleasure you provided him and feeling dangerously intoxicated by your presence. Heat swirled between you as you both filled the car with intimate sounds, not even embarrassed by the flustered taxi driver who got you to your destination as soon as possible.

Rolling out of the car, a tumble of limbs, and hot desire, you pulled Jungkook up the many stairs to your apartment. Stumbling along the way, because you were so blasted out of your mind. You didn't even know what was happening. All you knew was Jungkook was finally here again, and fuck you weren't letting him go for the second time.

Your hands were everywhere as you entered your bedroom, gliding over the expanse of his chest, up his sides, cupping his cheeks as you pulled him closer to you. Your kisses were rushed, a mess of heavy breathing and mumbled curses throwing Jungkook into a frenzy as he tried to undress you as fast as possible. His hands shaking in the process because he was so drunk off the alcohol and your body.

Suddenly you placed your hands on his chest as a feeling of dread crept through your body and up to your mouth. “Jungkook-” you whispered the room spinning as you pulled out of his grasp. “I think I'm gonna be sick.”

Jungkook's hushed responses went unheard to you as you bolted to the bathroom. Collapsing near the toilet and heaving out a whole bucket of alcohol. Your body totally rejecting the poison you had put into it.

Jungkook was quick to move to your side, holding your hair back as you heaved and heaved, repeatedly emptying your body of its contents. His heart constricting with worry for your well being as he soothingly ran his hand up and down your back drawing circles into the skin to try and soothe you.

Suddenly you stopped, turning and smiling over your shoulder. It was a thankful, shy smile that blossomed on your cheeks making your eyes crinkle, and successfully knocked the wind out of his lungs. Jungkook could swear that moment he was completely stone cold sober, all his alcohol consumption long forgotten, because you looked just as beautiful as ever.

He forgot a lot of things when he looked into your eyes. He forgot that he was older than you, that he was an idol, that you had broken his heart, all he knew was that he wanted to dance with you right now. He knew that every day from here on out was going to get better, because it would be spent with you. You made him feel like he was enough and that was all that mattered.

“Stay over. Please?” You whispered as Jungkook slowly pulled you closer to his chest, hugging you to him on the cold tiled floor.

“I think you should get some rest.” Jungkook hushed as he silently rocked you back and forth.

As he gazed down at your features and everything came crashing down on Jungkook. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of his emotions, being completely taken over by the fact that he loved you. He really, really loved you. When he was with you felt safe, almost as if you were his home, and all this time he'd been away from you all he needed was to come back to you, because he had found what he needed in a person.

If he was being completely honest it absolutely terrified him. It scared the shit out of him that in one second he found a love that will take him a lifetime to get over.

You fell asleep like that, in his arms on the floor, completely exhausted from being sick, and Jungkook carried you to your bed, tucking you under the covers gently. Smoothing the hair back from your forehead he pressed a gentle kiss to you cheek.

You smelled just like he remembered and it caused him to laugh. Some things really never change he thought to himself. You were always such a constant for him, even when you left he could never rid you from his senses. It's you. It's always been you and it says will be. The hurt you had caused him was temporary but his love for you wasn't. He tried convincing himself that he was fine but that was just denial and seeing you tonight confirmed for him that he'd truly never get over you.

He was prepared to leave. He gathered his things and was ready to go back to the dorms when he heard you stir in your sleep, letting out a small cry for Jungkook.

Rushing over to you he sat perched on the side of the bed. You groggily opened your eyes reaching for Jungkook's waist in the process. Pulling him down next to you and snuggling into his broad chest.

In your sleep ridden state Jungkook could only make out snippets of words. Whimpers of “don't leave me”, “I need you.”, and the one that rang most clearly in Jungkook's ears were “I love you.”

His heart beat loudly in his chest. Every fiber of his being on fire. He loved you and all he wanted was to be there for you. To be able to love you till his lungs gave out and till you were both gray and old. The past was in the past. He couldn't change the amount of time you two lost but he could sure as hell try and make up for it. He didn't know what the future held for you two but as long as you didn't let go again, as long as you loved him that was enough.

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trey-ff · 7 years

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TWO.

SONYA

On October 22, 2016, Hassan Ali Duncan, my first-born child graced the world. He weighed exactly six and a half pounds, just a pound below average. As I studied his features, I realized that he looked a lot more like me than he did his father. Thank God. Not that Carter was at all bad-looking. I just never wanted to look at Hassan and see his father’s reflection, given the circumstances. However, that would always be an inevitable challenge. As much as I wanted to believe that I brought this precious baby-boy into the world by myself, Carter was still apart of him and I had to deal with that.

“Wait, so you named him after the pizza-boy? What happened to not naming people after people?” Ebony asked smugly as I simply chuckled. While I had already told them the story of how I had given birth at home with the delivery-boy, I hadn’t told them of how I had chosen Hassan’s name. Mostly due to the fact that I had named him after someone else when I vowed against ever doing that.

“I think it’s cute and sentimental. That would be a very interesting story to tell him when he starts wondering where his name came from.” my mother smiled, peering down at Hassan, who was nestled in Ebony’s arms near my bedside.

“Well, it’s not technically after the pizza-boy. You see, I don’t know him like that, aside from the fact that he delivered my baby. So, Hassan doesn’t have to live up to the reputation and expectations of… Hassan because it’s not like he’ll be in his life for either of us to really know him. He was just my inspiration for the name, that’s all.” I explained in the best way possible while Ebony laughed and continued rocking her newborn nephew.

“I guess I can see your point,” she simpered, delicately moving Hassan’s chin with her pointer-finger as he slept, “does he know about it?”

“No, I couldn’t imagine telling him and I won’t ever have to. After the ambulance came to transport me to the hospital, he left.”

Hassan stayed right beside me, seated on my living-room floor, as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. And, once they did, he explained the ordeal to the paramedics who were on sight and watched as they transported us into the hospital-van. After that, I didn’t see him again and didn’t expect to.

“I’m sure he would be flattered,” my mother assured as she reached for Hassan, “now, let me hold my grand-son, you’ve been hogging him all morning.”

“And, you had him all last night.” Ebony whined as my mother stripped him from her arms. I snickered, watching as my mother carefully backpedaled and sat down in the hospital chair.

“I still can’t believe you were in labor for six hours before you realized it. It’s like you have no sensation to pain.” my mother said, earning a chuckle from me. Apparently, I had been in labor for the better part of the afternoon and hadn’t even known about it. What I had believed to be just ordinary cramps were actually contractions. While it was possible to be unaware of labor, it was severely rare, but apropos nonetheless, considering the whole delivery itself was a rare circumstance.

“Everything about this delivery was a breeze. I mean, it hurt like hell, but it wasn’t like in movies. I knew I needed to be calm and I wasn’t tryin’a wild out in front of a complete stranger.” I snickered, making Ebony do likewise. My mother nodded in agreement before she smiled lovingly at Hassan.

“Oh, your father would be so happy,” she admitted, “he always wanted you to be a mother. Definitely not under these conditions, but there’s no point in dwelling on that now. We just have to make the best of it.”

“I don’t even want to think about him.” I muttered, referring to Carter. While I was beyond joyous to have welcomed my son into the world, I couldn’t find it in me to be entirely excited. No matter how much I tried to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the journey of parenthood that I would be embarking on alone, the thought of it sickened and saddened me. I just felt unprepared, scared, and beyond all else, depressed that my son didn’t have a father.

“Do you think Carter will come and sign the birth-certificate?” my mother pondered, forcing me to huff and roll my eyes.

“He ain’t got no reason to come and sign the birth-certificate,” Ebony intervened, literally voicing my thoughts, “I mean, why would he? He may be the father, but he’s no father. If he’s not gonna’ be around, then he doesn’t need to sign anything.”

A brief silence filled the air before my mother spoke.

“Sonya… I know you don’t care for Carter and trust me, I despise him just as much for what he’s done to you. But, Monica and I were talking and--”

“Here we go,” I chuckled bitterly while shaking my head, “Monica wants a reason to be apart of Hassan’s life. She wants grandkids so, she’s manipulating the situation for personal reasons, not for the betterment of my son.”

“That is not true, Sonya, and you know it. She wants what’s best for Hassan just as much as us all. And, him having his father in his life is what’s best.”

“Ma, you’re saying that as if she chose to push Carter away. Remember, he walked out on them, not the other way around.” Ebony said, jumping to my defense.

“I know, I know. But, Monica spoke to Carter and gained some insight on him deciding not to be an active father, considering he was raised by one. If you let her tell it, he’s just afraid.”

“Bullshit.” Ebony, and I said at the same time. That excuse was stale and didn’t exempt him from being a father. Hell, I was scared, too, but did you see me abandoning my son?

“I called bullshit, too, but I’m just saying what she said,” my mother shrugged, “she also said that she feels he’ll come around to the idea of it later on and you can’t deny him the right to see Hassan. It’s still his son and if he wants to make it a legal situation, given you deny him access, he has the ammo. He’s never been in trouble with the law, he has the means to provide. She just wants you to consider the grand scheme of things and not be bitter if Carter decides he wants to man-up and I totally agree.”

“You agree?” I reiterated in a mocking tone. How could someone tell me not to be bitter about my son’s father coming and going as he pleases? How could he pick and choose when he wants to be around? Now, if I had pulled a stunt remotely similar to that, it would be a problem. But, for some reason, Carter gets the pity and the pass for being a spineless deadbeat.

“Ma, you can’t be serious.” Ebony added. My mother sighed as though her point was just so crystal-clear and we were the dumb ones for not being able to see it.

“Stop thinking about Sonya. It’s not about Sonya anymore. It’s about Hassan and him having both parents. Like I said, I don’t like him, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the potential to be a good father. Not saying that he went about the situation right, but he just might honestly be petrified at the idea of parenting right now. Again, I don’t agree with that, but his mother spoke to him and she thinks he might warm up to it and she just wants you to be open-minded, as do I. Not for Sonya, but for Hassan.” she explained.

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t see where she was coming from. But, that didn’t mean that my mind and arms would open with ease. He had to earn the privilege to be around. He had to prove that he was capable. The last thing I would want to indirectly allow was the right for him to disappear every time he felt pressured or overwhelmed. This wouldn’t be an easy adjustment, but with determination and a positive outlook, it could definitely be bearable.

“I understand… but I’m not thinking about the what-ifs, Ma. As of now, he has decided to be absent and has showed no signs of warming up to it, as Monica claims. When and if the times comes, we’ll see how it plays out, but neither of you should be disregarding me and my feelings. You haven’t gone through what I have. You had husbands by your side. I had no one but myself throughout this whole process.” I argued, feeling tears sting my eyes before aligning the rims.

“I’m not trying to do that, honey, and I’m definitely not trying to upset you. I just… I want the best for Hassan, even if what’s best is not what we want for him.”

“I get it.” I said dismissively, quickly wiping underneath my eyes to halt any tears from falling. Ebony rubbed my shoulder for comfort before speaking up.

“I hate to admit it myself, but I agree. We need to consider the bigger picture,” Ebony softly added, still caressing my shoulder, “you’ll be fine, kid. You still have us.”

“You’ll always have us.” my mother added, continuing their encouragement. I couldn’t lie, their words put me more at ease. As long as I had them to support me along the way, I wouldn’t truly be on my own. And, that thought had the ability to calm me in the meantime.

Ebony and my mother stayed with me until noon before they transferred Hassan to the nursery. The nurses wanted to give me the necessary physical exams and educate me on how to care for Hassan before they sent us home. Both processes were a breeze and afterwards, they allowed me some much-needed time to rest.

Monica had asked if she could come see him, but I explained to her that I was extremely tired and would call when I wanted her to visit. She seemed okay by this, but I truly had no intentions of ever calling. I knew her seeing the baby would be inevitable, but I just wanted to forget that her or Carter were ever involved in my life.

“Are you refreshed?” the nurse smiled as I stepped back into the bedroom after being in the shower. I slept for about three hours before waking up with the need to shower. Due to the possibility of post-delivery fainting, the nurse had to stay on standby to assure my safety, which I didn’t really mind.

“Very,” I admitted, dropping the worn hospital-gown on the chair, “can I see him now?”

“Sure. You just get comfortable while I go get him from the nursery. Did you need anything else?” she asked while opening the door. Smiling, I shook my head.

“Just my baby.” I simpered as I carefully regained comfort in the bed. Though the birth was relatively easy compared to what I had expected it to be, I was still in mild pain. The nurse assured me that that pain would subside in about a week or two.

While eating from the small deli-tray that my mother had bought for me, the door opened and the nurse returned with my son. From his presence alone, I broke into a smile. I couldn’t believe that he was finally here.

“Hi, honey,” I sang, retrieving him from her arms, “aw, I missed you so much, my li’l teddy-bear. Do you think he’s hungry?”

“Yes, you should try to breastfeed him again so, you can get the hang of it.” she explained. Nodding, I allowed her to help me so that I could feed Hassan. Once things seemed to be going well, she left us alone to have some one-on-one bonding-time.

Keeping my eyes glued to the hospital TV that displayed HGTV, I cradled Hassan closer to my chest for warmth. A knock was planted against my hospital-door, forcing me to strip my eyes from the TV and towards the noise.

“Um, come in.” I announced, assuming that it was a nurse, since my sister and mother said that they would come back in the morning, or sooner if I requested.

“Hey.” Carter smiled, making my mood switch in the matter of a second. I would have expected to see Monica before I ever expected to see him.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked, getting on defense-mode as I sat further up in the bed. Shrugging his shoulders, he shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving Hassan.

“I heard you gave birth and felt obligated to come. I tried to come earlier, but they said you didn’t want any visitors,” he explained, stalking closer to the bed and breaking into a smile, “he looks just like you.”

“Yeah, one could say I had this baby by myself.” I sarcastically snapped, jerking Hassan away from him when he attempted to touch his cheek. If he didn’t want to be around, there was no purpose in touching him.

He chuckled.

“What’d you name him?” he asked, retracting his hand as he maneuvered around my attitude and attempted to maintain his own.

“Hassan Ali Duncan.”

“I like that,” he confessed through a chuckle, “it has a nice ring to it. Sounds like the name of a future leader or some shit.”

“Carter, really, why are you here? You weren’t around all this time. So, what brings you here now?” I asked, getting fed-up with the chit-chat. Releasing a sigh, he dug into his back-pocket to reveal a folded manila envelope, resembling the first one that he had given me when he discovered that I was pregnant.

“That’s three-thousand dollars,” he informed me as he carelessly tossed it on the bed, “it isn’t much, but I’m sure it’ll help until we map out a financial plan. I had to beg my father for it.”

I chuckled bitterly.

“You really think money is the solution to everything. This shit won’t make up for you not being there, Carter.” I argued, pointing towards the envelope. He blew out an exasperated breath.

“I’m not sayin’ it will, but me and you both know you need it. Listen, I do still love and care about you… tremendously. I’m just not ready to be no father, Sonya. I’m doin’ the bare minimum of what I can do for him, which is more than what most active fathers do for their kids.”

“So, you’ve thrown a couple thousands of dollars at him and now you think you’re a better father than those who are struggling to financially provide for their kids, but spend quality time with them? You’re a joke.”

“And, you’re ungrateful,” he rebutted, “can’t you see that I’m afraid of this shit? Maybe later down the line when I sort things out within myself, I can be active with the both of you. Until then, three-thousand every other month is all I can promise. I mean, my father’s been advisin’ me against it ‘cause it’ll cut into my earnings, but he knows what this means to me.”

“I don’t need your damn guilt money, Carter. And, there is no later down the line. I don’t know why you, your mother, or mine seem to think that’s okay. This is a child we’re talking about. If you’re not gonna’ be present in every way possible, then you might as well leave us alone for good. He’ll be straight, he has me.”

“And, you’re gonna’ realize real soon that you’re not enough, especially when it comes to raisin’ a li’l boy in this world. I know what you thinkin’ right now,” he said, halting me with his hand, “if that’s the case, why aren’t I makin’ the effort to be present, then? Because like I’ve been tellin’ you, I ain’t ready right now. But, when I am, you need to take into consideration all the shit that you can’t teach him that I can, and allow me to be there. You followin’ me?”

“No,” I replied with nonchalance and the shake of my head, “I actually stopped following at you’re not enough. The fact that you can even say that and then, in the same breath, insinuate that you could actually benefit him in ways that I can’t after making the executive decision to be a half-time deadbeat is ridiculous to me. I just… I don’t understand this logic and if this is the kind of intellect that you plan to pass on, you’ll never spend a moment with my son.”

“So, you’re just not gonna’ make this easy for me,” he chuckled, dampening his lips and shaking his head, “I’m not tryin’a say you’re not gonna’ be a good mother, Sonya. You’re gonna’ be an amazin’ mother because you’re an amazin’ woman. It’s just… young boys need a man to show them the ways of the world.”

“Then, why are we relying on you? Since when were you a man? Before, it was fuck you, you’re on your own, you trapped me, just get an abortion. Now, he needs a man to show him the ways of the world? Why the change of heart, Carter? Please, do tell.”

“I spoke to my mother,” he replied after digesting my words, this statement confirming what my mother had told me earlier, “we agreed to disagree on most things, but she did say that the least I could do was ensure his wellbein’ and yours. I owe you both that, if nothin’ at all. So, we can set up somethin’ and I wire money to your account every other month. I’on care what the money goes to, as long as it benefits him, too. I want you two comfortable, even if I’m not physically there right now. Eventually, I want to be there for him, but I can’t right now. This is the least I can do as of now, Sonya.”

He uttered his last sentence with exhaustion when he noticed that the emotions of my harsh reality were overtaking me. Just hearing my baby be spoken about and negotiated as if he were some monetary business deal to his own father was disgusting to me.

“You do realize that your son has no father, right? You’re revoking him of that because you’re selfish and a coward.” I snarled, attempting to damage his pride and ego with my harsh words. He rubbed his palm down his face tiredly, reflecting on what I had said.

“You ruined a good motherfuckin’ thing, you know that? The outcome of this shit is all your fault. You know I ain’t want kids no time soon and you trapped me. You brought this shit upon yourself and now you makin’ me out to be the bad-guy. All because you couldn’t wait until the time was right for us.”

“I never trapped you,” I exclaimed while attempting to mind my voice for Hassan’s sake, “why would I do this on purpose, Carter? Do you think I was ready? No, but I manned up and did what had to be done for our son’s sake. In this situation, we both take responsibility and we both pay the price. Period.”

“How about you take the responsibility and I just worry about the price for now? Makes it easier on us both, pickin’ up where the other lacks. As they say, team-work does the dream-work.” he simpered, completely desensitized to the reality of the situation. I scoffed, disgusted to had ever been involved with such an incapable man-child. The fact that he couldn’t see the severity, or refused to was repulsive to me. He was treating Hassan like a pet, rather than his own son.

“Just… just get out,” I mumbled, not having enough energy to shout, but also not wanting to, “we’re through and as I said, I can do without you and your guilt money. We’ll be good.”

“You’ll keep it,” he grumbled, his tone riddled with demand, “stop bein’ stubborn and just allow me to help you. You don’t work and wit’ a newborn, who knows when you’ll be workin’ again. I’m pretty sure Nicole and Ebony are gettin’ tired of havin’ to take care of you. You’re an independent woman anyway, I know that shit makes you sick, havin’ to rely on them like that.”

“Hmhp, you’ll care for me and act like you’re my father, but won’t do the same for your own kid? Hysterical.” I chuckled. Carter always hated my sarcasm and smart-ass remarks so, that tight clench of the jaw was to be expected.

“Just take the damn money, Sonya. You love doin’ this back-and-forth shit wit’ me just for the sake of doin’ it. You fuckin’ irk me.” he admitted as I watched Hassan somehow drift asleep during all this suffocating tension in the room. Removing my eyes from his face, I gave his son-of-a-bitch father my direct attention.

“If I irk you so much, then why are you still here and why do you insist on being apart of my life, even if it’s just financially? Why do you feel the need to help--as you call it--so damn bad?” I riposted before he broke into a helpless chuckle.

“Because even though you irk my soul, I still love you. Like I told you that night,” he started, referring to the night when I told him that I was pregnant, “I didn’t break this off because I stopped lovin’ you, I broke it off because I love you. I’m just not ready to be that man, Sonya. For you or Hassan. I have major growin’ up to do and as much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. I’m no man, which means I’m incapable of teachin’ Hassan anything. I need time to build myself and no, that isn’t fair to either of you. But, when the time is right and I get my shit together, I promise I’ll be the best man I can be for him and you. And… I know you ain’t trap me. That be my father in my head. I would never look at you in that way. But, you feel free to believe what you want about me, baby-girl. You’re entitled to that, but you know deep-down, my love ain’t goin’ nowhere overnight. And, neither is yours.”

With that being said, he picked up the envelope and placed it beside me before kissing my forehead. I watched through tearful eyes as he took one prolonged stare at Hassan before leaving the hospital-room in silence. Cradling my head in my palm, I sniffled and tried to stop the cries that seemed to be oncoming. I wondered how his words, despite being bullshit as its finest, still had the ability to affect me in such a way. If I had to guess, though, I think it was because to some degree… I did still love him.

HASSAN

“So, you couldn’t pick me up because you were helping deliver a baby? And, you locked your car-keys in this woman’s home so, your now wrecked car, which was hit on your way to her house, is in Summerlin and that explains why you took a cab to my house? Oh, and this is also the reason why you got fired?” Whitney asked, summarizing my story in an unconvinced tone of voice. I had just got through telling her what happened and honest to God, I expected this fit of disbelief from her.

“As crazy as that shit sound… yeah.” I chuckled, belting down my Ginger Ale as she raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. Whitney was my girlfriend, had been for a little over a year. We hadn’t had any infidelity or trust issues in the past, but with the way that she was questioning me, you would assume we did. I knew that the story sounded downright ridiculous and unlikely, but it was the truth. Shit, what else was I supposed to say?

“I can’t believe you’re lying like this.”

“Baby, I ain’t lyin’ to you. Why would I lie ‘bout some shit like that? If I ain’t wanna pick you up, or couldn’t pick you up, I woulda just told you that shit. You know me well enough, Whitney.” I grumbled, standing up from the kitchen table to throw away the remains of my finished sandwich.

“This story just seems real unlikely to happen. You’re not even acting like someone who just experienced that shit. You’re way too calm.”

“What I’m ‘sposed to be doin’ right now, Whitney? Havin’ PTSD-driven flashbacks? It was scary, but I’m better for it.” I grumbled, eating a handful of the Lays chips. Snatching the bag from me, she grabbed my attention.

“Prove it, then.”

“Prove to you that I delivered a baby?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you know how to make a lie sound so damn good. I need evidence and if you’re getting defensive about me asking for it, I’ll just assume you’re lying.” she shrugged, sitting down the bag of chips. Thinking for a moment, I snatched up her mom’s car-keys from the table and told her to come on. I figured that I would take us to the hospital to visit Sonya. Beyond proving my innocence, I wanted to check on her and the baby, and find a way to get my car-keys from her house. So, this visit wouldn’t be too left-field.

Before stopping at the hospital, I thought that the gesture of buying Sonya flowers would be cool. While I knew that my actions were genuine, Whitney took that as me attempting to milk my farfetched lie, as she considered it to be. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized that she was wrong as hell, too.

Once parked, together we ventured up to the entrance of the hospital. The sliding-doors glided open at our arrival and an air-conditioned lobby greeted us.

“We made it this far. I can’t wait to see where you take it from here.” Whitney chuckled, still not believing me in the slightest. Laughing, I just strolled up to the front-desk and grabbed the attention of the receptionist, who was typing away on her desktop computer.

“Hi, how may I help you?”

“I’m here to visit a friend, she just gave birth. Her name’s Sonya, if that helps.” I said, turning my hat backwards with one hand while holding the vase of flowers in the other.

“Okay, and last name?” she asked, beginning to type.

Shit.

“See, uh, I ain’t really get all that,” I chuckled, rubbing the nape of my neck as she curiously raised an eyebrow at me, “she had the baby at home and I helped deliver him. I was deliverin’ her food and her water broke.”

“Oh, that was you? I was hearing about that all morning,” she smiled, pressing one of the gray blocks on the phone after picking it up, “I need to call my boss and see if I can send you up. You know, for security reasons.”

“No problem,” I assured through a grin before turning my attention to Whitney, “I’m sure you believe me now, right?”

Her lack of response verified that I had won. Knowing her, she still had some doubts, but definitely was starting to believe that there could have possibly been some truth to my words.

“Okay,” the receptionist said to her boss before hanging up the phone, “alright, I just need you to show me your identification and sign in before I allow you up.”

“Got it.” I rumbled, taking my leather wallet from out of my back-pocket. After sliding her my ID, she was able to verify my identity before giving me a sign-in sheet to fill out. Once I did, she told me the room-number that Sonya was located in and pressed a button that allowed the secured, automatic doors to open up.

“Okay, Hassan. I believe you,” Whitney said as we stepped inside the elevator right after some light-skinned dude stepped out, “but, you can see why I didn’t at first, right? Shit like that doesn’t happen everyday.”

“Wrong. Shit like that does happen everyday. Just not to us. You know I ain’t finna’ lie ‘bout no shit like that.” I grumbled, pressing the button to send us to the third floor.

“I know, baby. I just needed to be sure.” she murmured before the elevator stopped and opened with a ding. I waved a hand for Whitney to go out first, but regained the lead as I tried to track down the right hospital-room. When I finally found it, I considered the situation and the circumstances before turning to face Whitney.

“Now, ‘cause she may be in a weird mood after givin’ birth, I’ma have you wait outside before I ask can you come in. I’on just wanna be briginin’ strangers to her room. Hell, I’m stranger enough.” I grumbled. Whitney nodded understandingly, mumbling a low okay as she sauntered towards one of the available chairs in the hallway.

Sighing, I planted a knock against Sonya’s door and waited for an audible permission of entry before twisting the silver knob. Propped up in bed, Sonya turned her attention from the heightened TV and towards the door where I stood.

“Hey,” I grinned, shutting the door behind me as I stepped further inside while toting the vase, “I can tell you wasn’t expectin’ to see me again, were you?”

“No.” she chuckled. There was surprise and shock etched onto her face. Despite being barefaced, she possessed a beautiful, natural glow and appeared pretty content. Though only knowing her for a night and under rare circumstances, it made me feel good to know that she was doing well.

“Well, I’m here. And, these are for you,” I simpered while delicately sitting the vase of blue roses and water on her bedside table, “just a li’l congratulations gift, you know?”

“Aw, thanks,” she snickered, admiring them with a radiant smile, “this was really sweet of you to do, but you didn’t have to. I mean, helping me deliver my baby was enough.”

“Nah, you deserve more praise than me. I mean, that was the first time I seen birth up-close and personal. That shit is… life-changin’ to say the least. I’ve always thought women were special, but that proved that women are extraordinary.” I said genuinely as I pulled a chair towards her bedside. She giggled.

“Glad I could enhance your perspective.” she replied, pressing the button on her little remote to raise the head of the bed.

“So, where’s the baby?” I pondered, noticing the cot, but no newborn in it.

“With the nurses. I needed… a moment.” she sighed, sounding somber behind her words. My eyebrows caved at this detection, but because of our relationship, or lack thereof, I didn’t want to pry.

“What’s his name?” I inquired, switching gears a little. Just then, I watched her bow her head and smile bashfully.

“Please do not be weirded out, okay? But… I named him Hassan Ali Duncan. I decided to name him after you because well… without you being there, who knows what could have happened, you know? It just seemed appropriate and it was sentimental to me. I didn’t expect to have to see you again to ever explain this.” she said shyly as I sat there astonished beyond belief that she had named her son after me. However, it did prompt one question.

“I’m… honored. Like, really I am,” I chuckled, touching my chest, “just… how does his father feel about that decision?”

Sighing, she looked away from me and towards the curtained window. I could tell that my question struck a nerve, just based on how upset and angered she appeared. However, I was curious on this man’s whereabouts. I hadn’t seen him, or even heard a mention of him since I met her and for some reason, that left me concerned for her and Hassan’s wellbeing.

“His father isn’t necessarily around. By choice, not force,” she elaborated before finally directing her attention to me, “he walked out on me when he found out I was pregnant. So, there’s that.”

Licking her lips, she stared down at the peach-colored bedding, evidently upset, despite the nonchalance in her tone. I sighed.

“I’m really sorry to hear that. That ain’t no real man and you know, it’s for the best that a coward like that ain’t gon’ be around to raise ya’ son. He got you and like I said, women are extraordinary. He gon’ be aight.” I assured, watching my words alone pick her expression up into an attractive smile.

“Thanks, Hassan. I really needed to hear something encouraging. Aside from having my son, this day hasn’t really been going the way I predicted.” she admitted as I furrowed my brow.

“Care to talk about it? I can be an ear if you need one.” I said, assuming that was least that I could do for her. Smiling, she shook her head reassuringly.

“It’s fine. You’ve done more than enough good deeds for me.”

“Okay,” I grinned before a growing silence entered the room, “so, can I see him?”

“You want to?” she asked, surprisingly.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Okay.” she murmured before calling for the nurses to bring him back to the room. After they assured her that they would, she hung up and I started conversation.

“So, are you enjoyin’ bein’ a mom so far? I mean, you barely did anything yet, aside from givin’ birth like a boss,” I simpered, earning her laughter and a wave of her hand, “nah, for real. I thought it was gon’ be like in movies wit’ all that dramatic-ass screamin’ and shit, but you was chill for a first-timer, especially wit’ no epidurals or anything.”

“Well, I figured that the calmer you are, the easier the process. I was just ignoring the pain and focusing on the mission at hand and that was operation: get this baby the hell out,” she giggled, making me laugh, “but, to answer the question, I’m loving motherhood right now. I’m a little nervous since I’m basically doing it alone, but I have a very supportive family who will be there every step of the way. So, do you have any kids?”

“No, no, no,” I replied, fanning my hand, “not yet. I’m not exactly… in the position to provide for anyone besides myself right now. I still got a lot to accomplish before buildin’ a family.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I’m in culinary school and workin’ at Top of the World down on Las Vegas Boulevard. I’m savin’ up for that big dream of ownin’ my own restaurant someday.” I explained, earning an impressed smile from her.

“Oh, wow. That’s really awesome, Hassan. So, you’re balancing all that, and a delivery job?”

“Well… not the delivery job anymore,” I chuckled, “I kinda got fired. I had four deliveries after yours and despite a damn good excuse, everyone was pissed at me. My boss told me that I should have called, but who could possibly think about deliverin’ food when they deliverin’ a baby? It’s whatever, though.”

“Crap, it’s all my fault. I am so sorry you lost your job. I’m sure that’s a setback for you.”

“First off, you can’t really be at fault for givin’ birth. Second off, that shit wasn’t my main job. Just a side-hustle, my weekend job. It ain’t no biggie, jobs like that come and go. Hell, I been wantin’ to quit for a minute now. I’m way too advanced to be workin’ menial gigs like that.”

In return, she giggled at my words and shook her head.

“You’re something else,” she said just before the hospital door opened and in walked the nurse carrying Hassan, who was bundled up in a blue blanket and a white cap, “is he awake?”

“Yup,” the nurse giggled, moving the blue blanket away from his face, “as soon as I walked in the nursery, he was already looking right at me. Is this Dad?”

Sonya chuckled before shaking her head.

“No, but this is the man who delivered him.” she replied, taking her son from the nurse as an impressed expression coated her face.

“That was an amazing thing you did. If it weren’t for you being there, it was a very strong chance that she would have been giving birth alone. You’re a hero.”

“Nah,” I chuckled, fanning my hand, “I was just at the right place, at the right time, that’s all.”

“Aren’t all heroes, though,” she replied, still insisting that I was some kind of Superman for what I’d done for Sonya, “either way, thanks to you, she delivered a very healthy baby-boy and everyone’s so appreciative.”

“Well, I’m just glad that I could be there to help.” I simpered, remaining as humble as possible before she just smiled at me. While the nurse and I spoke, Sonya was engulfed with her son, smiling and cooing at him the whole time. I couldn’t contain my grin at how lovingly she stared at him. Despite the situation that was going on between her and the baby’s father, she appeared happy and that made me happy.

“If you need anything, just ring the bell, okay?” the nurse assured, to which Sonya glanced at her and sent a feeble nod before diverting her attention back to Hassan. When the nurse exited the room, she removed her eyes from him and towards me.

“Would you like to hold him?” she offered through a smile. Though I was a little hesitant, I nodded anyway and accepted him from her. As soon as he was cradled in my arms, another smile inevitably masked my face.

“Hey, li’l man,” I chuckled, allowing him to grip ahold of my pointer-finger, “you gon’ be a li’l heartbreaker, I can tell already. I mean, wit’ a name like Hassan, how could you not?”

“Oh, God.” Sonya giggled, shaking her head. While I held Hassan and shared further conversation with Sonya, I remembered that I had Whitney sitting outside the room for over twenty-five minutes. Once I was reminded of it, I handed Hassan back over to his mother and asked Sonya if I could invite her inside.

“Sure, I’m fine with that.” she agreed. Standing up from the chair, I sauntered to the door, peeked out, and caught her attention. Just from the aggravated expression and the huff that she released, I could tell that I had her waiting a moment too long.

“My bad, baby.” I apologized as she irritably murmured it’s okay and stepped inside of the hospital-room to finally meet Sonya. Upon eye-contact, they both sent polite smiles before Whitney spoke up first.

“So, he wasn’t lying,” she smiled, diverting her eyes between them and me, “I’m Whitney, his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.”

“Sonya.” she replied, using her free hand to shake Whitney’s before turning her attention back to Hassan, who was staring up at her with wide, almost admiring eyes. He was already in love with her.

“He’s so cute! Makes me want one,” Whitney gushed as she loomed near their bedside, earning a light chuckle from Sonya, “I can’t believe you delivered a baby, though.”

“Hey, ya’ man got mad skills and much untapped potential. I’m actually thinkin’ ‘bout becomin’ an obstetrician now.” I smirked, watching as both women broke into laughter.

“Now, you can see why it seems impossible for such a goof-troop to deliver a baby, right? So, what’s his name?” Whitney pondered.

“Hassan Duncan. Yeah, I named him after the pizza-boy.” Sonya snickered, shaking her head as she delicately grabbed ahold of his hand.

“That’s… adorable. Well, Hassan means handsome and this little boy is already living up to his name. More than he does.” she joked, forcing me to kiss my teeth as Sonya only snickered at our antics.

“I’m handsome.” I declared. In response, I only earned a laugh from Whitney before she folded her arms across her chest.

“Not even in your wildest dreams,” she replied before the dinging of her phone snagged her attention, “my mom’s asking for the car.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I left my keys on your coffee-table so, my car’s at your house. I ain’t in a rush to get them so, if you ain’t bein’ discharged from the hospital anytime soon, don’t even stress about it. Just call me when you do. I probably should give you my number first, right?” I chuckled as she nodded, unlocked her phone, and handed it to me for me to enter my number in her contacts.

“I should be out of here tomorrow afternoon, according to one of the nurses. I’ll let you know, though.” she assured, taking the phone back from me once I finished typing in my number.

“Aight, well, it’s been real.” I grumbled, stretching tall and reflecting the smile that she was sending me.

“That it has.” she giggled. As I leaned down to carefully give her a hug, Hassan was intently watching my every move, already turning into his mother’s bodyguard.

“He already givin’ me the death-stare. Don’t worry, li’l man, I ain’t tryin’a steal ya’ mama from you. He ain’t gon’ want nobody around you, man.” I teased, moving my finger around within his soft grip. She laughed.

“Babe, she’s tripping,” Whitney interrupted, flashing me the text-messages of her mother demanding her car, “let’s get this woman back her car so, she can leave me alone.”

“Aight, aight. Sonya, I’a see you around.” I simpered as I headed towards the hospital-door. Whitney sauntered towards the bedside to say her goodbyes to Sonya and Hassan.

“Bye, little cutie. And, congratulations on your baby, Sonya. I’m no mother, but I know it’s an amazing experience and I wish you and your family the best.”

“Thank you so much. It was nice meeting you.” she replied before they both exchanged genuine smiles and goodbyes. Soon after that, we were leaving the hospital altogether and on the road.

Damn. I still can’t believe I delivered a baby.

WHITNEY

“Why you so quiet?” Hassan asked, uttering his first words since we left the hospital ten minutes ago. To be honest, I was trying to understand the situation. You know, the grand scheme of it all. I had a particular hunch about Sonya and it was rubbing me the wrong way, though, I showed no signs of it before. But, given he triggered the conversation, I figured that I would let him in on my thoughts.

“Um… don’t you think it’s weird she named the baby after you? I mean, how does the father feel?” I inquired, speaking on the topic that bothered me the most.

“Well, that nigga a deadbeat so, he can’t really call his-self feelin’ any kinda way about it. Why you think that’s weird, though?”

I could tell that he was flattered by the whole thing, but I was alarmed. It just seemed like an emotional attachment was being made by both Sonya and Hassan and the baby was the reason for it. No matter how sentimental and innocent they claimed it to be, it appeared excessive to me and I had every right to be concerned.

“It seems forward, that’s why. And, now I’m finding out that the baby-daddy ain’t around? What if she’s growing attached to you and wants you to fill that void, and vice versa? ‘Cause you know how you get.” I warned, knowing just of my boyfriend’s personality.

Hassan was a sociable person; it wasn’t difficult for him to make friends. I mean, everywhere we went, he managed to attract people, get roped into conversation, and then, swear up and down that they were his new best-friend. And, it wasn’t hard for people to fall in love with him, either. Hell, I did. He was down to Earth, hilarious, considerate, and just about every other good thing a person could be. Now, he wasn’t perfection personified; he had his quirks, too. But, all the good things about him made it so easy to accept all the bad.

He never gave me a reason to question him before when it came to him making new friends, but this wasn’t like other times. Beyond a conversation, him and Sonya had a connection and I didn’t want him fraternizing and leading this woman into wanting something unattainable.

“Baby, you bein’ crazy. I doubt that’s what she tryin’a do. And, I wouldn’t wanna give off the wrong signals myself by fillin’ the void of his father, even though I feel so goddamn bad about what he gon’ have to go through without one. But, like I said, I wouldn’t even get involved wit’ them to the point of makin’ anyone feel what they shouldn’t be feelin’ about me.”

“I hope not.” I murmured, still a bit uneasy about the whole situation as we arrived in the driveway of my mother’s house. After turning off the engine, he gripped ahold of my chin, stealing my full attention.

“Listen, me and her know the boundaries set,” he said and before I could interrupt with my ongoing doubts, he hushed me, “okay, well, if she don’t, I do and as my woman, you just gotta trust me. Do you trust me?”

His question immediately snapped me out of my insecurities about his interaction with Sonya. I believed and trusted him off the strength of what he had shown me in the past and considering that he had never given me concerns before, I didn’t need to stress. He was good to me and always had been.

“Of course.” I replied before mirroring his adorable smile and accepting his invitation for a passionate kiss.

“Then, that’s all that matters.”

#therighttime

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dlamp-dictator · 7 years

Text

Allen’s Rambling XIX: Delinquents, Actresses, Cats, and More (Persona 5 Characters)

So I don’t have to continually double check what number of Rambling I’m at and more importantly for the sake of organization, I’m just going to number all Ramblings, as well as tag my ramblings with the fandoms I’m talking about in general from now on, fandom backlash be damned.

Moving on, So during the spring break I briefly caught up with my friends Infall ( @infall-of-music ) and Ninjaweeb ( @xenagodbestgod ). I told them I had gotten Persona 5 and they asked me if I thought it was game-of-the-year material, or at least RPG-of-the-year. I didn’t have solid answer for them back then since I had just started the game at that point. Now that I’ve finished it I can safely so no, I think RPG-of-the-year will probably be Breath of the Wild, but I digress.

Originally, I was just going to give a long, spoiler filled post my feelings on Persona 5 as a whole, but… the rambling I did when I played 30 hours of it basically covered my current thoughts. Eh, I guess I’m consistent in my thoughts if anything. I have more things I want to talk about with the game, but… just nothing else gameplay-wise. No, what I wanted to talk about were the characters, the party members specifically.

Just so you all know I didn’t max out a single party member on my first playthrough. I know, I know, how dare I not waifu Makoto, but… Togo just gave too many good benefits (and didn’t require max charm). Anyway, I just wanted to give a quick update on my thoughts of all the characters now that I beat the game and played through a little bit of new game plus. But first…

Making Amends

So… when I rambled Persona 5 last time I later learned a lot of my nitpicks (money and time management namely) were only issues because I didn’t know about certain social links at the time and just… screwed myself over in the late game. Long story sort the Sun, Temperance, Hanged Man/Tower, and Fortune would had fixed a lot of the problems I was complaining about. Sun helps you make mountains over money in hold-ups, Temperance grants you MORE TIME TO DO SHIT, Hanged Man and Tower made your guns useful for late game, and Fortune just gave you a lot of good buffs for social stats, dungeon crawling, ranking up other social links, and so on.. Real nice stuff over all. Then again… half of these nice social links were either near late game or require some high social stats, so… it was irritating to learn a lot of these late game. So yeah, I just wanted to say that.

With that said, I’ll just dive right in and start talking about the characters now. Fair warning now, I’ll be spoiling things up to the third dungeon story-wise, and some social link stuff, but I’ll try to keep everything else as vague as I can make it.

Ryuji

Y’know, I might get a little flack for saying this, but I really like Ryuji’s character. In terms of the “best friend sidekicks” I think Ryuji is the best one yet. Then again, Junpei didn’t get a social link so… it’s still a little debatable. Anyway, Ryuji is a mix of Kanji and Yosuke with a dash of Junpei. He’s brash and emotional, but his heart’s in the right place, and a lot of the moves he makes, while fueled by his temper and hotheadedness, are understandable. Of course, there were at least two moments I really wanted to punch him, but there were only two, as compared to Junpei and Yosuke’s… several moments. I got to about rank 8 of his social link, and I think it was pretty interesting. I really liked how he still had passion for sports despite not having a body able to compete anymore. Actually, I’m not sure if he’s semi-crippled, or just fell out of track after the team more or less disbanded and he got his leg broken... Someone mind confirming that for me?

Anyway, one thing I didn’t like was how much crap Ryuji had to take from people. I get he’s kind of a dunce, but there’s a limit to how much a person should fail or be blamed for things. Yosuke and Junpei usually got what they deserved because they were being perverted, acting against the party’s will for stupid reasons, or doing something way outside the realm of logical. Ryuji… does a lot of things that make sense in context. When he lashes out it’s when something bad happened to him or someone close to him. When he’s SCREAMING ABOUT HOW HE’S A PHANTOM THIEF TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC OH MY GOD RYUJI SHUT THE HELL UP, it’s out of genuine excitement of getting caught up in the moment, and under the (somewhat sound) assumption no one really cares what a bunch of teenagers say. He’s not so much stupid as he is really impulsive. There’s a big difference between the two in my book, and I’m glad that he’s not just some delinquent jock that causes trouble for the party.

On a side note, I’m kind of curious if there are some official pictures of him in black hair, some concept art or something like that. They say a handful of times Ryuji dyed his hair blonde, so… I wanna’ see his natural hair color.

Ann

Oh Ann… I feel so bad I never got past Rank 6 with you, especially since by then I was interested in your social link (but it was late game by then). But yeah, me an Infall talked a little about Ann and her… issues.

Okay look, I’ll just say the elephant in the room now. She’s a high school girl with a hyper-sexy outfit. Yes, it’s sexual. Yes, it clashes with the themes of her character arc and personality. Yes, it’s cheap fanservice with poses and whatnot. I get it, and it’s a fair complaint to make given the context of the game’s themes. However, as a guy that’s seen, played, and bought way more fanservice-y games and anime than Ann’s attire, I’m barely phased by it. Look, I play strategy RPGs for the strategy, I could honestly care less what Ann’s wearing because as far as I’m concerned, Ann isn’t a “sexy character” to me, she’s my magical DPS character, secondary healer, and status ailment afflicter that’s a bitch to manage due to her heavy SP usage.

Now, as a writer I’ll at least say that her sexy attire could had been forgiven if they played up her sexy angle as a point of her character arc. She’s a model and the object of the perverted fantasies of boys at her school. It’s said several times in the text flavor of the early game that her popularity was mostly due to her body and that popularity was more infamy than fame. Combine that with the fact that she has clear foreign ancestry and is an outsider among her peers because of it and they could have had a really nice character arc discussing sex appeal and views of foreigners and half-breeds. If she had awakened her Persona under the pretense of “yes, I’m sexy, but that doesn’t make me someone’s toy to fantasize about. I’ll use my body to crush and toy with anyone that gets in my way” then I don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now. Yeah, the Bayonetta-type of characters tend to be skating a fine line between “empowering” and “excuse for fanservice,” but I think Atlus could do a good job with that type of character. Sadly… Atlus decided to make her a comically bad actress and destroy that what potential that had… Then again, maybe she improved over her social link and I just didn’t get through enough of it to see that.

Anyway… Ann’s a good character overall, just wish I did more of her social link in the first playthrough.

Yusuke

Like I said in the Rambling I think Yusuke could had been written in a lot better. He just feels a bit out of place with the other party members since he’s from another school and his arc felt more forced if anything. Again, maybe his social link covered this better, but I only got to rank four, and if I need to do what is debatably an optional character arc to really understand him I feel like that’s bad writing, especially when characters like Makoto and Futaba got better arcs when joining too.

If he had been written like Makoto where we saw glimpses of his personality before he even interacted with the party and joined the party a little more smoothly instead literally falling into their laps I’d probably like him more. I feel like his character could had explored a bit about Stockholm mentality and dealing with the pressures of being a prodigal student on scholarship and having to constantly make new works to make ends meet. Then again, if his social did go into these details then… I guess I’ll just focus on his social link for my second playthrough.

Makoto QUUUUEEEEENNN!!!

Oh Makoto… if only I didn’t romance Togo before actually getting to you (if only you didn’t require max Charm to get through your social link too). I’ll be going for her on my second playthrough indefinitely. Anyway, onto actually talking about her.

I’ll be honest, it took me a bit to get use to Cherami Leigh’s portrayal of her. It wasn’t bad, I just didn’t expect that tone and pitch of voice at first was all. I got used to it eventually though. Now, Makoto is my favorite party member since she’s does healing, physical and magical damage, and can buff defense. She was in my party almost all the time once she joined. Plus, she has a very well-written arc. They introduced her soon after the first dungeon and was a bit of an antagonist for a while. We got to see her personality really shine before and after she joined the Phantom Thieves, and that’s something I really appreciate. This also makes Yusuke’s poorer arc all the more unforgivable since the writers know how to include someone in a story without it seeming forceful.

Onto Makoto herself, I like the fact that she’s a prim and proper girl that absolutely loses it when she’s had enough or when in combat. It kind of reminds me of myself in a way (as I’m sure Infall and Ninjaweeb knows how I can get when I lose my cool -_-;;), so I can relate a little. I’m no honor student, but I know the pressure of having to play the nice one when all you want to do is cuss out/punch out the opposing party.

Also, I need to see fanart of Makoto in an Aikido uniform since she canonically knows and studies it. As a main of Aoi Umenokoji, Asuka Kazami, and almost any other female fighter in hakama I just… I just HAVE TO see her in that uniform. I’ll draw it myself if I have to.

Futaba

I heard a lot of talk of Futaba showing signs of being autistic and I agree with it, but I can understand why the writers might not had outright said it. It’s likely to avoid people analysis her character too deeply or being put at the risk of giving a bad portrayal due to key part of autism not being shown in the story. I know I have a few OCs that I privately think of as having certain mental illnesses, but don’t outright state it due to fear if improperly written them that way.

Anyway, I like Futaba. She’s cute, she’s a dork, she HEALS SP, all good stuff. I hope I can get through more of her social link on the second playthrough because it was really cute and nice to see her slowly become more social.

Yeah… that’s all I can really say without spoiling it folks. Feel free to message me for my full thoughts if you really want them.

Haru

I’m… I’m gonna’ be real here, I only got to rank two of Haru’s social link because max Proficiency was a bitch to grind out and she’s a late game party member. I like the whole “rich girl with a secret sadistic streak” thing they have for her, but… she’s a late game party member that didn’t get any development beforehand like Makoto… so… I’ve got nothing to really say. And again, still avoid spoilers for this one.

However, I will say I’m a bit annoyed she didn’t get the same treatment Makoto did in terms of writing. Her character arc was very well written for late game, but she goes to the same school as the main character, they could had hinted at her way earlier as a gardener you ran into, or occasionally gave you SP-healing plants throughout the game… Then again, accessing Haru’s benefits in the early game might have broken it for a savvy player, so… eh.

Also, she’s got the cutest voice in the whole cast. The moe, cutest voices are usually either forgone for a more mature voice or poorly done in English dubs, but goddamn Xanthe Huynh nails it.

Oh wait, one more thing I need to say. SHE GETS HEAT RISER, MAKING HER THE BEST PARTY MEMBER. PERIOD. NO QUESTION. THIS IS NOT A DEBATABLE SUBJECT.

Morgana

I can’t believe I forgot to talk about Morgana… damn, how foolish of me. I love Morgana. I love his voice, I love his cute, yet cocky attitude, I love how he’s a male healer with wind magic, making him Hisui Heart, except I don’t have the urge to strangle him through all the early game. I… I just love this cat so damn much. Except when he makes me go to sleep, then he can die in a thunderstorm, but he’s a good cat overall.

I’m also glad he wasn’t [ RETRACTED BECAUSE SPOILERS ] like a certain someone I could mention, but I won’t because that’s a spoiler to another game, so I won’t.

Making the Magician (AKA “Sidekick”) Arcana the mascot character surprisingly worked well. Morgana really did have your back most of the time, and the fact that he was the one saying how you got more guts, intelligence, kindness, etc. surprisingly made the Protagonist feel a little less generic... just a little though. And on a sidenote, Zorro definitely had the coolest design next to Captain Kidd. I… don’t really have anything else to say in terms of how he was written or anything, I just really like him. He was the best sidekick to have.

Now at this point I’d go over Akechi, but he’s an ultra-late game party member and going in depth with him is a spoiler in itself since it discusses late game things, so… I’ll just say he could had been waaay better written, and the fact I’m saying it makes it sting so much since he was introduced before Makoto was. But anyway, that’s it in terms of my thoughts of the Party members in Persona 5. Good Lord this was a long rambling, but it’s done. Now onto the Video Game Update… Lord help me.

#your dictator is speaking #persona 5

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letitrainletitsnowbutdontletmego · 8 years

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can you write something for quakerider where Daisy is really hurt and Robbie is slightly freaking out?

It was her idea to head back to his house rather than the base once they were done that evening, knowing Robbie would never disagree with that. He wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of SHIELD.

Daisy had been chasing down a lead for a case involving inhumans in the LA area when she had spotted the telltale marks of a gang member, one she knew the Ghost Rider would be interested in. So she had made the call, told him where they were before telling Mack and the others that she was going to spend the evening with Robbie so they might as well head back without her. She’d fill out all the official paperwork once she got back.

She knew calling him meant a death sentence for the man she had spotted, and though the blood would be on both of their hands, if it meant there was one less murderer on the roads and it was a step in the right direction to get the spirit of vengeance out of Robbie, it was worth it.

Of course, she wasn’t going to let him out there himself, and even if she did have her powers, it didn’t mean that sometimes, even the regular humans couldn’t hurt her.

Which was how she found herself in Robbie’s bathroom, hiking her top up to see how badly her ribs had fared. Unfortunately, they looked just about as bad as they felt, her fair skin now an assortment of colours stretching from one side and across her torso to the other.

Every single movement hurt, and she let out a hiss as she attempted to readjust her bra so it didn’t press on what seems to be the most painful place on her body right then.

“What happened to you?” Robbie’s sudden exclamation had her spinning around, which subsequently had her almost doubling over in pain. He managed to grab her before she met the floor, wisely going for her arm and hip rather than her waist, which he had clearly seen. “Daisy?”

“I got hit,” she managed to murmur, already feeling like her body was starting to cave in on her. She sidled along as he ushered her into the main room and onto the couch, where she leaned back and laid down as quietly as she could.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You should be at the base or the hospital!” he reprimanded, his voice echoing back from where he had gone back to the bathroom, probably to retrieve some medical supplies.

“It didn’t seem so bad,” she lied, which she could tell he knew by the dry look he threw her when he crouched down by her side.

“How badly does it hurt?” he asked before he touched her again.

“Only when I breathe,” she tried to joke, but it fell flat. “Do you have any pain killers?”

Robbie nodded and handed her a couple he had picked up before heading to the kitchen for some water. “Let me take you in. You need that seen to.”

“I’ll be fine,” she dismissed, doing all she could to remain neutral as she tried to take the glass from him. But sitting up was a whole issue in itself and she didn’t even have the energy to fight him as he gently sat her up and put the glass to her mouth now that the adrenaline had worn off. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he murmured as he helped her lay down again. She didn’t think much of the words, rather focusing on how comforting it was to have someone take care of her, his thumb softly caressing her cheek and soothing her to sleep rather rapidly.

“…looking better, though I wouldn’t mind giving her another dosage just to be on the safe side.” A soft, strict but familiar voice was that first thing Daisy heard as she came around again. It took a while to cling onto that thread and pull herself to consciousness, but her fuzzy mind slowly cleared up to allowed her to coherently form a sentence. Somewhat.

“Jemma?” she asked, her tongue heavy as she squinted at the bright white lights of what was clearly the medical unit at the base.

“Oh, Daisy, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” Simmons asked, appearing in her field of view as Daisy managed to finally focus her eyes.

“What- Ow!” she hissed as pain shot through her chest as she attempted to sit up straighter. A hand, heavier and larger than Simmons’, landed gently on her shoulder to keep her from moving again. Peering over, she met Robbie’s eyes and narrowed her own at him momentarily as the events of that evening came back to her.

“You’ll have to stay still for a bit- hold on, let me get you something to help,” Simmons muttered almost to herself before hurrying away to one of the supply cupboards not too far away.

“Traitor,” Daisy scowled at the man beside her, trying to put as much effort into trying to sound hurt as she could. It fell flat due to the fact that any action that required breathing still pained her, and Robbie merely shrugged and stepped away at her unimpressive scolding. He had removed his hand from her shoulder too, and if she felt a loss of heat, she blamed it on the fact that he did have hellfire literally running through his veins and so was naturally warmer than the rest of them.

“You were practically dying, Daisy, and say what you want about the other guy but I’m not so great with dead people on my couch,” Robbie replied evenly, crossing his arms as he stared her down.

“I wasn’t practically dying. I would have healed in a few days,” she retorted smarmily, silently wishing for Simmons to return with the painkillers so she could sass without it physically hurting her.

Robbie raised his brows at her statement, a mask of disbelief slipping across his face. “Really? Is that what you think? ‘Cause your good doctor friend here reckons you would have died if you had shifted in the wrong direction,” he informed her gruffly, words hitting her slightly more than she thought they ought to considering the wry manner Robbie had delivered them. Or perhaps it was because of it, the familiar tone and nuances of their conversations and banter now turned serious, that it did hit hard.

Simmons returned at the end of Robbie’s statement, clearly catching his words and seeing Daisy’s resolve starting to break. “He’s right, Daisy. Your ribs were so close to breaking, there was no way you would have avoided the pressure needed to cracking them before they healed. Which would have lead to you puncturing a lung, and- well, we all know how that goes,” Pursing her lips, Daisy gave her friend and fellow agent the most innocent look she could muster when in pain. Exasperation passed over Simmons’ face at her lack of response. “Death, Daisy! You could have died.”

Swallowing the bitter truth that she had been far worse off than she had thought, and if it hadn’t been for Robbie, she might have suffered alone and in pain, Daisy let out a breath. “How long until I’m better?”

Simmons reverted back into doctor mode at her question. “Once I give you this, it should start to heal up within the next day or so. But the pain of it will ache for a while. Bones can heal but they never go back to normal.”

“Yeah, I’ve had experience with that,” she muttered, holding up a hand and wriggling her fingers once before dropping it back onto the bed. Simmons hummed halfheartedly, focused more on preparing a syringe that she was filling with clear liquid from a bottle with the intention of injecting her with it. Not keen on watching herself being jabbed with a needle, Daisy turned her head and attention to Robbie. Furrowing her brow at him, she cast her mind back to earlier that evening and asked him, “Did you drug me?”

Robbie paused for a moment, looking straight at her before shrugging. “Yeah,” he admitted casually.

Gaping slightly at his admission, she turned to face Simmons once again who clearly either didn’t care or hadn’t been paying attention to their conversation. Looking back at him, she stared incredulously. “I’m sorry, are we all just going to gloss over this? You drugged me!” she accused him, voice hoarse from the pain it caused her to simply exert herself.

“They were just painkillers. The really strong kind that puts you to sleep for the night,” Robbie defended himself with a roll of his eyes. “What did you want me to do? You were being a stubborn patient and I needed to bring you in.”

Pursing her lips, Daisy bit back a retort that he could have just asked, knowing she would have denied him bringing her in as she had previously. “You could have said,” she huffed instead, earning herself an arched brow which, to be honest, was all she was expecting.

“C’mon now, Daisy. Robbie saved your life. He doesn’t need an explanation for that. We were all worried about you, you really did look like you were on the brink of death by the time we got you in here,” Simmons chimed in placatingly with a gentle soothing look on her face which only just helped Daisy disregard the needle that was dangerously far too close to her arm.

“That bad?” Daisy asked reluctantly, sighing when she saw Simmons’ sympathetic face. Turning to Robbie instead, she looked at him questioningly.

“I would have taken a picture but she kept pushing me out of the way,” he informed her with a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Jerk,” she muttered though she couldn’t fight the smile that graces her features. That was until she felt the telltale pinprick of a needle piercing her skin, grimacing and glaring at Simmons even as it passed almost immediately.

”There. They’ll kick in within the next minute or so and knock you out again for a while,” the doctor told her matter-of-factly, her smile in place as it always was when treating her patients.

“Thanks, Jemma,” Daisy replied, already feeling the constricting pain on her chest start to reside as the doctor walked away. Turning back to Robbie, she asked him, “Were you really worried about me?”

“If I had a picture, you’d understand why,” he replied coolly, stepping closer to the bed, teasing her though she could tell that his words were serious.

Settling into her pillow as she felt the drugs start to pull her under, she nodded, recalling how bad her injury had looked to herself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. “I’m sorry. For lying. And for yelling at you.”

“You didn’t yell at me,” Robbie replied, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“I was trying to but I actually can’t,” she informed him with a small laugh as he shot her a wry look. Though the painkillers had kicked in, it had only taken the edge off and laughing, she discovered, still hurt. “Ow. And for making you worry.”

She heard him inhale deeply before letting out a sigh. “Doesn’t matter now. Just get better, alright?” he told her, laying a gentle hand atop of hers on the bed and squeezing softly. She smiled at his gesture; Robbie wasn’t a touchy-feely- kind of person at all.

“Hmm, I’mma try,” she retorted, eyes becoming too heavy to open one again. Instead, she curled her hand slightly to hold onto his and murmured, “Sit?”

“I’ll be here,” was the last thing she heard before sleep claimed her once again.

#quakerider #robbie reyes #Daisy Johnson #aos #agents of shield #jemma simmons #prompts

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