#no proof read so probs typos
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krosiefics · 4 months ago
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would you like that? • bang chan
M D N I 18+
WC: 1.4k
Summary: Bang Chan is having too much fun teasing Stays on Bubble while he’s supposed to be working, he suddenly starts teasing you as well and that escalates to well…
A/N: lmfao I honestly called us (stays) out for writing shit on the internet but I like to think of it as ‘creative writing’ Also this isn’t proof read so, sorry abt any typos or mistakes :P
Tags: afab!reader, softdom!bangchan, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), grinding, overstimulation, ass grabbing(?)-not ass play), teasing, pet names (babe, baby, good girl, pretty, etc), breeding kink, I’m prob forgetting some so sorry
Chan giggled at his phone as he saw the flow of flustered responses to his latest Bubble message. “You’re teasing them too much.” You shake your head, peeking over his shoulder reading all of Stay’s responses. “No I'm not.” He scoffs, “They’re far worse than you could ever imagine.” It’s true and you know it, Stay’s write all sorts of things about the members online.
(a/n ;-;)
As one of Stray Kids’ managers, your job is to handle their social and music media, so you’ve seen things…things you probably shouldn’t have. Chan knows this and so he uses all these teases towards Stay as an advantage. “Let’s see, what should I say next?” Chan ponders to himself as you sit down on the sofa that sat behind his desk, you open your computer and as you’re about to start working on a new draft a loud giggle startles you.
Chan is curled up in his chair, kicking his feet giddily while looking at his phone. Growing annoyed at the man who is supposed to be working with you on new lyric drafts, you get up from your spot and snatch his phone gently from his hands. “Hey!” Chan pouts as you read the screen. Your face immediately heats up as you read the highly suggestive comment he left on someone’s post about pudding. “Chan, that's highly inappropriate!”
Chan was going to snap back but then noticed your face’s sudden change of color and he smirked. “Would you like that?” He teased, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite tell. It’s not abnormal for you two to playfully tease or flirt with each other, it helps ease the awkward moments of silence that sometimes fall between you. But this…this was different, it was as if he was testing you, to see if you’d give in to all of your playful remarks you’ve made over the past few years of knowing each other.
“What?” You breathe out shakily. Chan licks his lips, his eyes flickering down to your soft plump lips. Oh what he would do to feel them against his. Chan knows he shouldn’t think like this, especially since you’re one of his managers…yet he still craved you, there was just something about you. Chan’s hands crept up the sides of your legs, gripping at your hips and tugging you closer to him.
Due to the sudden tug, you almost topple on top of him, you hold yourself above his head on the headrest of his chair. Your face felt so hot, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the way your stomach fluttered, the way your breathing became hitched…all because of this man’s sudden change of teasing. “I’m not kidding.” Chan sighs, leaning his face into your neck. You could feel his breath fanning across your skin, it sent chills down your spine.
The sudden touch of his lips to your skin instantly made you jolt, but he held you in your place not wanting to let go of this moment. “Please.” Chan whispered as he continued to pepper your neck with wet kisses.
You didn’t know what was happening anymore, it all went so quick. His teeth grazed over your collarbone and you gasped in response, your hands flying to his hair. Now with the loss of support from the headrest, Chan easily sits you in his lap, having you straddle his lap. Your breathing fastens as you feel him nibble at your skin, biting your lip not to let any sounds come out.
Chan’s hands snake around towards your ass and grab it, massaging the flesh. You let out an accidental moan at his action, you bury your face into his neck out of embarrassment. “It’s okay baby, it’s just us here right now, it's too late for anyone else to be here. So you can be as loud as you want, yeah.” Chan starts leaving kisses on the top of your head.
You whimper at his noises and he chuckles, as he adjusts his seating position you feel something hard poke at you. You pull away from his neck to look down at what it was, your face turns even redder. The outline of his hardened cock bulging from his jeans.
Your mind filled with the possible outcomes on what could happen if you stop this or if you let this continue. There were too many risks, but so many benefits. You wanted the man underneath you, you always have. Chan’s overall personality is what attracted you to him initially, but the more spent time with him the more you realized that this guy is insanely hot, handsome, talented, caring, and a billion other positive things. You knew you couldn’t have him though, it was wrong.
But right now, you didn’t care. You didn’t care how wrong this was. You let your lust and desire take over you.
You experimentally rolled your hips against his, Chan responded with a low groan, his grip on your hips tightening. “Fuck that feel good babe, don’t stop.” And you didn’t. You rubbed against him until his breathing was fast like yours, his eyes screwed shut from the pleasure, and his face red and hot. Then you stopped.
Chan whined softly, his eyes fluttered open as he stared up at you. You carefully removed yourself from his lap. “Wait.” Chan simpered, lifting his body to get up after you. You simply placed a hand on his chest to keep him seated there. You walked over to the door and locked it, even though there shouldn’t be anyone here at this hour, it still didn’t hurt to be careful. Chan was about to beg you to stay when he saw you walking away, but he stopped as soon as he saw you lock the door, excitement flooding through his body.
“One time.” You pointed with your finger as if to make a statement, “This is only happening one time.” You quickly slide your shorts and underwear off which reveal a wet patch on the pantie liner from your arousal. Chan stared at you in awe as he saw your glistening cunt, he was quick to follow suit in taking off his jeans and sliding his boxers down as well.
You swing your leg over his lap sitting hovering above his hard cock. “Pretty girl I’ve gotta stretch you out first or it’ll hurt.”
“You’re not that big Bang.” You poke, it was a lie he was big, not super massive but definitely above average to the point where it probably might burn.
You grab his cock which makes the messy haired boy hiss, aligning up to your entrance before sinking on to it. It did burn, but it was tolerable, you just focused on the fact that it’ll feel better soon. To distract you from the pain Chan started rubbing soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs, he shushed as you started moving your hips in circles.
“Oh fuck.” Chan moaned after you finally adjusted, your hips letting up before smacking back down. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up so much right baby. You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up.” You throw your head back as Chan helps you with lifting your hips. You hum, nonsensically agreeing to whatever it is that Chan wants at that moment.
“Yeah, you’ll fill me up so good.” You moan.
Chan suddenly starts forcefully thrusting up into you, directly hitting your g-spot. “Oh fuck!” You almost scream, you quickly catch yourself by biting down onto Chan’s shoulder. He groaned as your teeth sunk into his skin, but he wasn’t complaining, cause now he’s gonna have a mark that reminds him of right now.
“C’mon babe, I’m almost there…shit,” Chan pushed your hips down as he rutted into your leaking cunt. You held onto him as the feeling of that familiar knot in your stomach started tightening, “Me too.” You shut your eyes as you allowed your orgasm to come putting down over you, you slumped against Chan’s chest as he continued plummeting into you.
You cried at the overstimulation, “I know baby, I’m sorry- I’m cumming.” Chan buried his face in your neck as he spilt inside of you.
The warmth of him filling up your insides. Chan carefully pulled out and cleaned you up with the small box of tissues that was at the corner of his desk. . And as if nothing, the two of you both went back to working on the lyrics. Occasionally sparing lustful glances at one another. Chan realized he’s not gonna be able to tease Stay again without thinking of you.
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mystellenia · 9 months ago
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passionate sex with abby ୨ৎ
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summary: you and abby spend the night enjoying each other, sharing a passionate moment.
content: fingering (r receiving), praise, abby literally worshipping you, strap on sex
notes: answer to this req!! can someone get me a shirt that says "baby's 1st strap fic!" this was surprisingly fluffier than i intended but i’m not mad. if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, let me know please! i will never consistently proof read <3 prob like 20% of my work is proof read if i’m feeling quite Professional
(wc 1.6k)
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"are you asleep?" abby softly whispered into your hair, careful to not disturb you if you had fallen asleep. 
the two of you lay on the couch watching a black and white film flicker across the tv screen, a king-sized blanket bunched around your waist. your arms tuck further into your chest, pulling the blanket up a little higher to your waist. 
abby's large hands splayed across your lower back—not drawing little shapes, not tracing your skin, just feeling. she was always touching you, whether it was your fingers laced between hers or just her arm pressed against your side. she'd always say that you grounded her, that just being with you could calm her down from the highest of stresses. 
you slightly shake your head, responding to her question. "nope." 
"do you still wanna watch the movie?" 
you shake your head again. "nope."
turning your head to look up at her from where your chin rested on her chest, you kiss her quickly on her cheek. "let's go to bed." 
she doesn't respond, just smooths your hair back with her hand and scoots out from under you, grabbing your hand to lead you to the bedroom. she leaves your dishes behind—a bowl, two empty mugs, and a cookie wrapper sit still on the coffee table, frozen and forgotten by the two of you as you walk down the hall. 
abby heads to the bathroom and loads up her toothbrush, and you change from your heavy sweatshirt and pajama pants to one of abby's simple, large t-shirts. you take your hair out of its bun and hear a chuckle from behind you, so you turn and see abby smiling and watching you, her foamy toothbrush hanging from her lips. 
you take your hair tie out and set it on your side of the bed. "what?" you ask, to which she just shakes her head and returns her gaze to the mirror in front of her. you walk towards her in front of the sink, looking at her reflection. her eyes drop down towards her shirt on you, and she laughs again, quickly leaning into the sink to spit her toothpaste out. 
"what!" you smile, tilting your head at her eyes dancing across your face. she takes her time with finishing, leisurely swirling water in her mouth. she finally spits, drying her mouth with a hand towel and saying, "you're swimming in that shirt." 
you reflexively look down at it, smoothing it down your body. "it's not even that big on me—it barely goes past my mid-thigh." 
"if you say so," she chuckles, leaning in for a kiss. her lips move slowly over yours, taking her time in savoring your taste.  
your lips part, and she turns towards the mirror to set the towel down with a dreamy smile slowly spreading across her lips, her blinks slow and partial. you lean against the doorframe with that same dreamy smile until you move back towards her, your hand moving to her shoulder. 
abby is the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head back to push her tongue inside your mouth and humming against your lips. the bathroom counter digs into your butt, and your knees almost buckle at her unhurried kisses. 
both of her hands lift up to your head, grabbing each of your cheeks and pulling back to look at you. her eyes look more black than blue, her blown pupils swallowing up the silvery rings of her eyes.  
she turns your back towards the doorway and begins walking you backwards to the bed, the mattress hitting the back of your thighs and folding you onto the duvet, your kiss never breaking once. your legs immediately wrap around her hips, ankles locking on the backs of her toned thighs.  
her fingers snake under your shirt, swiping her thumbs over your belly and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. she parts from your lips for air, and you both break out in a fit of giggles. 
you calm down and stare into her eyes, hurrying up to her face and dotting kisses all over her face, making her laugh even more.  
abby turns her head away to escape your assault of kisses, and you still once she does. "i love you," she lowly says, her eyes lazily looking into yours. 
"i love you, too," you whisper back. you feel your cheeks heating, so you cover them with your hands to cool them down. 
"aww," abby sweetly coos, "you shy?" 
"i have a crush on you," you say seriously, smiling when she laughs at the absurdity of your statement. 
"well, shit, i sure hope so," she jokes and lowers herself, kissing you long and soft. 
like an unspoken agreement, abby pulls back as you sit up and you both start removing your clothes, one by one, holding eye contact the entire time. the intimacy of it all crashes over you, and you'd drown a hundred times over if it meant you could freeze this moment in time, pause it and restart whenever you choose. 
you lay on your back and abby crawls over you, sucking the skin of your neck and making your squirm. you reach to thread your fingers through her hair, but your fingers are stopped by the braid in her hair, now loose and frayed from being in all day. unfastening the rubber band at the tail, you comb your fingers through the braid and undo it piece by piece. once her hair is fully free, you scratch at her scalp, restless from her tongue moving on your skin. 
with no warning at all, abby dips her hand into your underwear, tracing a feathery swipe through your folds. obviously, you jump, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders. 
she gradually pushes her finger inside you, and you throw your head back with a groan, your legs opening unconsciously. she finds a slow and teasing pace, her thumb mirroring it while she rubs tight circles on your clit. 
abby never breaks eye contact, watching you the whole time and how your face screws tighter in pleasure, listening to your closed-lip moans start to spill through your mouth. she never speeds up, though, and the pace is too slow to finish. 
"abby... come on," you plead, trying to keep your eyes open long enough to look at her. 
"yeah? tell me what you want and i'll do it," she pants, looking at you and begging for an order, for another way to make you feel good. 
just one of her thick fingers can push you closer to the edge, but it's still not enough. your cheeks warm, but you find the words to say, "i need you. right now, abby." 
not a second passes before she's pulling out of you and leaning over to the side of the bed, lifting herself back up with a black strap in her hand. at six inches, it was a perfect fit for you—not too small, not too big—and for abby—comfortably sitting against her core. 
wasting no time, she slides the tip up and down your cunt, lathering it in your slick before pushing her hips forward and sliding in, inch by inch. she hovers close above your face, observing every twitch in your body. her own jaw is dropped all the way, her lids low as she uncontrollably bucks her hips and pushes the last of the strap in. a guttural groan falls from her lips as if she was holding her breath the whole time, a whiney breath followed by a hushed curse coming from you. 
she drops to her forearms, her hand moving to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. when you start to squirm, she pulls out almost all the way and smoothly pushes back in. finding a steady rhythm, her hips tenderly pump into yours, hypnotized by your little noises and how your hair splayed around your face in a halo. 
this was exactly why abby preferred missionary, but right now her pleasure takes over and makes her forget everything but you as her head falls into your shoulder, her hand tensing around the nape of your neck. 
"i" —she struggles to get out— "am so lucky to have you. god, i'm so glad you're mine." she continues breathing praises into your ear, your huffs getting louder and her breaths becoming more labored. 
she feels your legs trying to lock around her torso, and she pulls back to watch your face as she always does. "look at me, look at me," she rushes out, trying to catch you before your orgasm. 
you pry your eyes open and pull her forehead to yours. "together, please." 
"i know, i know. just..." she trails off, trying to focus, her hips suddenly jerking with her orgasm.
as if on the same wavelength, you cum a second after her, you two sloppily kissing and moaning into the other's mouth. you both twitch and spasm, the sheets damp with sweat and slick. 
after taking a minute to catch her breath, abby pulls out, wincing at the strap's base kissing her puffy clit. she quickly takes it off and lays down next to you, you immediately curling up to her. 
she rubs her hand on your arm, quietly murmuring, "good night, pretty girl," and pulling the sheets up, rubbing your skin until you fall asleep. 
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click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
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anthracite-writes · 1 year ago
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Obey me! Dating Headcanons (SFW)
ft. Non-datables [Mephistopheles, Thirteen, Raphael] - SEPRATE
NOTE: These are just my personal headcanons for the undatables. I haven't met them in OG OM! yet because of low card levels lmao but I have only met them in NB and read the wiki. What I say here is what I think I think would fit them according with the vibes I get from reading about them, so the headcanons are may be very if not extremely OOC - apologies in advance.
𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 !!: What it's like dating the Non-datables + love languages.
NOT PROOF READ - APOLOGIES IF THERE’S TYPOS OR SPELLING ERRORS!!!
𝓜𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼
Love Language? Words of Affirmation and Quality Time. [Hints at Physical Touch but it's all part of his fantasy]
He would definitely ban members of the RAD newpaper club from writing on you.
If there was one member that had written about you, that article draft along with all the photos are making a b-line right into the shredder. Especially if it's made-up gossip about you, even more so if it's accusing you of being in a relationship with some random student in the school or something scandalous that he knows you didn't do.
Only he's allowed to write about you, and only him.
Would definitely write about in the highest regards - praising you for your achievements as the human-exchange student.
Takes the best photos of you, even if they're candid photos.
Almost like... he's bragging for you about your achievements and accomplishments you made in RAD.
Meets you in private to avoid having any of the newspaper club members seeing the two of you together - for sure there would be a gossip column in the RAD newspaper on you two of you were ever caught.
He's a child of a extremely wealthy family - definitely hiding his relationship with you from his parents and family as a whole.
In public, he would be so cold to you, questioning why a human like you would be allowed in the Devildom.
Behind closed doors? He would be profusely apologizing to you for what he said to you in front of people, showering you in kisses and compliments about how amazing you are and how much you've changed his life.
His dates are over the top - flexing with wealth [idk, just read he likes bragging and doesn’t like cheap stuff.] . Nothing but the bestest for you.
Takes you out to expensive restaurants, shopping sprees, list goes on - and he's willing to pay for you, it's all to impress you.
Oh, he overheard you at some point when he was eavesdropping on the brothers for some kind of gossip that you favour more simple dates?
"Okay, I can do that - wait. What exactly is simple?"
Does tons of research on simple things you two can do for dates.
For more simple dates, he takes you two go for a horse back ride on one of the horses from his estate's stables on the trails of his family's land.
Organizes picnics or fancy dinners in his family's garden [obviously out of his family's eyes]
If he could, he would show you off SO HARD.
I mean like your his trophy - holding your hand with pride, a hand on your waist and holding you against his side.
He would want everyone to know you were his, kissing you while everyone is watching.
You are what he wants to brag about all the time but alas... must only happen in his daydreams during classes and Newspaper club briefings.
Loves it when you're there with him while he drafts up the next article for the newspaper or sorting through photos.
Gets your opinion on hook-lines for his article titles and has you help him choose the best photos he takes
firm believer he is amazing at photography and takes amazing photos of you two when you're out on dates.
probably has a photo of you two as his homescreen in his D.D.D, lock screen? prob the default one - again, he's trying to hide the fact he's dating you
Let's you in on gossip he's heard on the job and inside scoops on events in the school.
Def. the jealous type - sees some other student hitting on you? Oh, he's digging up as much dirt on that person so fast and blackmailing the person in order to get them to leave you alone.
Calls you 'Darling', 'Precious', and 'Tesoro'
Doesn't mind nicknames you give him, as long as you don't call him that when other people are around.
Fav. places to his you? Neck, hands, and lips.
𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷
Love Language? Gift Giving.
Girlie is absolutely crafty and definitely not gonna let you know when she's giving you anything.
Creates contraptions and traps just for you that won't do any harm to you.
Most of the traps and contraptions are extremely wholesome, showering you in confetti, flower pestles, maybe a gift or two like a plushie she saw that she knew you'd like.
Dates consists of a lot of cafe and bakery dates.
If you can cook any pastries or sweets and gift that to her, oh she's over the moon for you now.
Make sure you know all of the traps she set out in the Reaper's Cave, both old and new.
She called dibs on your soul, will fight any other reaper who tries to harvest your soul when your time comes.
Has a special place for your candle, keeping it close to where she sleeps probably - just, you candle if very far from all the other candles in the Reaper's Cave.
Probably has a shrine around your candle, images of you and all while surrounding it with gifts and contraptions she made for you when you comeback to the devildom or when she's up in the human world for business.
Probably also laid traps around your candle so no other Reaper can tamper with your life span or anything.
Loves it when you help her with the making of any traps she's making at the moment - most likely lets you name one or two.
Takes the saying 'Till Death Do Us Part' seriously.
Once you're gone, she will never take another lover - she's that devoted to you.
Calls you her 'partner-in-crime'
Fav. place's to kiss? Cheeks, temple, nose, forehead, and lips.
just anywhere on your face is her fav place to smooch ya.
𝓡𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵
Love language? Acts of Service.
Actions speak louder than words - and boy does this angel take this shit seriously.
He's giving me Stong, Serious, and Silent type [so let's go of that.]
Would probably drop by the House of Lamentation, sees your doing dish and just quietly takes you gently, putting you aside and does the dishes for you so you two can spend time together.
Bumps into while your grocery shopping? DW, he's grabbed the list from you and choicing the best of the best things that are on the grocery list, always checking in with you if this is the right product.
Having trouble reading a spell or remembering an incantation? He made you flash cards, little notes on the thing your struggling in, and willing to sit down and go over the spells/incantation that's giving you a hard time.
Pretty much, if you're doing some hard work - he's gonna set you aside and do it himself.
Genuinely hate seeing your struggle but also thinks it cute [he'd never say it out loud].
TBH, kinda see him l just piercing something as simple as a coffee maker not working right with one of his spears because he's worried that you're gonna get frustrated [yes, even if he know you have the patience to work it out]
But he'd definitely give a warning smite to anyone giving you a hard time or not paying attention to you when you're talking with his spear - don't matter if it's a demon, another angel, or another human; no hesitation.
'Y/N is talking to you - pay attention, please.' // 'back off, next time I won't miss.'
Not big on PDA, but doesn't mind it.
Holding hands? yeah, hugs? yeah.
Walking up behind you while you're talking, placing his hands on your hips and resting his chin on top of your head without saying a single word? yeah.
Honestly, see this guy as the type to not say much unless spoken to - not every social you can say.
You also can't really tell how he's feeling due to how straight faced he is.
Don't worry, once again - he speaks through his actions rather than his words.
Gives you multiple small kisses on your forehead or the top of your head as he mumbles how much he loves you and appreciates you being in his life.
Loves reading you poetry or book passages he finds interesting - not necessarily because he thought of you, just because.
Feels bad when he doesn't get to spend enough time with you due to his statue in the Celestial Realm.
Dates are very simple - walks around town, sightseeing, dinner dates, shopping, just basic and simple dates.
Calls you 'my angel', 'little lamb', 'human', and 'dove'
Fav. places to kiss? Forehead, eyelids, lips, and nose. [get it? they're all ANGEL kisses, yes i'm making that joke twice, cry.]
But most definitely the top of your head and forehead - all while he has a gentle hand on the back of your head and would hold you close to him/his chest after he was done planting them smooches on ya.
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mxnhoo · 2 months ago
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so let's go see the stars, right now. (p. js)
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"I want to promise eternity. Pulling you into my arms, I hope this night never ends" ׂ╰➤ park jongseong x reader genre reader really loves to stargaze/sky-watch - plot revolves around it, not proof-read cos i'm lazy (probs some grammatical mistakes and typos), word vomit, reconciliation, song is revolved around 'so let's go see the stars', kinda bittersweet, happy ending, a comet!, sweet as hell, will add more w/c 3.3k
now playing so let's go see the stars - boynextdoor
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It was finally the time you've been looking forward for.
Ever since you were young, you've always wished to be able to see a comet fly through the night sky with your very own eyes. Whenever you truly open up to someone, you would always bring them to do your favourite activity - Sky watching.
There were countless number of nights when you would just sit under the night sky with people important to you in hopes that you'd be able to catch a shooting star or comet. However, all of those times, you've failed to experience it. But it also wasn't like you could've done anything.
You've only left the venue you waited at with a couple of bug bites, but you never felt disappointed because you've always had company. You've always had someone beside you during those nights, being able to have a fruitful conversation and make more memories with them.
more under cut!
You stared at your phone screen as you reread the news article, specifically the sentence "A comet will be visible in the night sky from _ October to _ October". You blinked at your phone repetitively, having to take an extra moment to process the words on screen and your heart starts to palpitate faster. Your mouth cheekily curves into a smile, smiling from ear to ear as you let out a relieved laugh.
You immediately pressed on your phone, sending multiple messages to different people that you wished to experience this with. Your primary school friends, work friends. So many of them have already went sight-seeing with you and you want to be able to experience this with them.
Considering that you were now an adult, a lot of your friends don't really have much time to spare for you anymore, hence why you asked a lot of people. Responsibilities with work, family, love and just having their own free time can really make it hard to see them, so you messaged a lot of people in hopes that at least one person would say yes.
As you finished messaging a couple of people, you exited the chat and scrolled down your contacts list, prepared to message and invite more people out until you saw the name.
His name.
Your smile slightly falters and your chest has a slight ache to it as you purse your lips, feeling unsure as to whether you should ask him.
Park Jongseong was his name. You had him saved as Jjong since it was a nickname you had developed for him overtime.
Developed when you and him were still in a relationship.
You released a heavy sigh, your heart increasingly aching as you continued to stare at his name, your finger refusing to scroll to the next contact. Your vision was starting to get increasingly blurry and once you blinked, a tear dropped to your phone screen and you immediately snapped back to reality, wiping your tears with the collar of your shirt and wiping your screen on your shirt.
You cleared your throat and let out a quick sigh before continuing to scroll, locking to goal of having at least one friend going with you to see the comet.
As you got out of your car, you were greeted with the dark sky that were decorated with tiny specks of white dots everywhere. You walked over to your trunk, your heart feeling slightly heavy since you had no company this time a'round. You asked literally everyone you knew and it was crazy how every single one of them of them had stuff going on. Must be your luck, huh?
You took out the mat that you've been using consistently for the past few years, the material being slightly worn out but you swore to never change it until you experience an actual comet or shooting star, and today was finally that day.
It was finally that day, but why were you so sad?
You took out the other necessities from your trunk, as well as gathered your belongings from the car and closed your car door, locking it and releasing a loud sigh as you see the hill that you've been consistently sky-watching on for years.
You were pretty sure that a lot of people also wanted to catch the comet, but this spot was secret. This spot was a place you had accidentally stumbled upon when you were going on a late night drive, and you remembered that night when everything in the sky seemed so vivid.
So beautiful. So breathtaking and ethereal.
You hiked up the mountain slowly, being careful to not trip on anything. The sounds that filled the atmosphere were footsteps on the grassy hills and the sounds of bugs creaking, which was something you were already familiar with. Once you finally reached the top of the hill, you placed your belongings to one side and held 2 corners of the mat, throwing it up and setting it to the ground.
Though it was still night time, you could make out how your mat was placed and you quickly adjusted it so that it was flat on the floor. Once everything was done, you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the back of your hand, feeling proud that you managed to set it all by yourself. You recalled all the other times when you would have a friend or two, helping you set the mat on the floor and there were many moments of laughter in between.
You sat on the mat, placing all your belongings on the mat and just sitting down with your legs crossed, your hands behind you as you just stared at the night sky.
It was quiet. This time a'round, there were no conversations, no laughter, no singing, no humminh. It wasn't something you were used to, and that pained you. At the same time, you couldn't blame anyone and you could only hate yourself, feeling like you should've expected this and that you should be able to adapt to things better now that you were an adult.
So many thoughts were filling your head, and that was until that one name appeared in your head did the other thoughts suddenly become forgotten.
Jongseong again.
It was bittersweet to think about him, because the relationship between you and him never ended on bad terms. Heck, you even wish that it ended on bad terms so it gave you a reason to hate him. But no, he was the sweetest person ever and he wouldn't dare to hurt you.
But even if we had no intentions to hurt you, he still did.
He wanted to pursue his degree overseas as well as get some working experience in another country, and you couldn't bare to deal with a long-distance relationship, so the obvious solution to save the pain was to end it. It seemed pointless to end it, because even if he was far away from you and you two broke up, he was implanted in your mind. Every thought always led to him, whether it was when you just woke up, are studying, hanging out with your friends, or merely just laying down in your bed.
Your friends have always talked about how perfect he was for you and how well he treated you. You knew it yourself, you don't need other people to tell you he was treaing you well because you knew it yourself. There were so many nights when he'd pick you up simply because you wanted to go sky-watching in the middle of the night and he never complained. No matter how tired he was, he'd watch the sky with you, and even pointed to the stars, trying to figure out what shape it was making with you.
You hated how perfect he was. You hated how kind he was to you. You hated even more how you still long for him, miss him, and even love him after all these years.
He was your best friend since you were a young kid, and he eventually became your boyfriend after a while and he'd never left your side. He never left until he decided that studying abroad was the best thing for him. That was the only thing you hated about him - how he left you, even if he never intended to.
Without realising, tears were trickling down your cheeks and you laughed to yourself, feeling stupid that you were crying even after all these years. You definitely aren't crying because you miss him right? It just must be because you were lonely.
There was this song that you'd always listen to whenever go sky-watching. You'd play this song at least once without fail, and it was So Let's Go See The Stars. To make it even more bittersweet, Jongseong was the one who introduced it to you. It was like your tradition to play it everytime you go sky-watching but at the same time it was like a stab to your heart because it'd always remind you about him.
"With you, late night it's full of sunlight," you sang to yourself, hugging your legs and swaying from side to side as you gazed at the stars, patiently waiting for the comet.
You continued, "Sunsets, it's full of dreams, yeah".
"So let's go see the stars right now?" a voice appeared behind you.
You snapped your head behind you and even if it was dark, you could immediately make out who it was. It was him, Park Jongseong.
You gasped loudly and your eyes widened, not believing your own eyes. WIthout wasting a second, you stood up, slowly walking over to him. "Jay—" you muttered as you stood in front of him.
"Look at the sky," he spoke, his voice sounding the same ever since the last time you saw him. It was the same voice that warmed your heart up, and the same voice you longed for. You looked at the sky, and you could hear him count down.
"In 3.. 2.. 1".
And once his countdown ended, you saw the comet fly through the sky. You smiled from ear to ear, laughing jubilantly as your eyes followed it's movement. The comet flashed, causing there to be bright light for a split second and you continue laughing, feeling estatic as you experienced a comet for the first time in your life. Once the comet flew out of your vision, you turned back to Jongseong, laughing and putting your hand over your mouth.
"Can you believe it?! I just saw a comet!" you exclaimed, not being able to put how happy you were feeling into words. You continued, "I've been wanting to see that for my entire life!".
He smiled at you, "I know."
You immediately pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his waist as you brought him closer to you, feeling like you were in cloud 9. You inhaled his familiar scent and you finally felt his warmth, something that you were dying for for the many years. He hesitated for a second, but he quickly reciprocated the hug, wrapping his arms around your back and changing between patting and caressing your back.
it felt perfect to be in his arms. His body fit you just right.
Just being with him. It felt right.
You were supposed to be happy, but the same bittersweetness from all the longing came back and you immediately start choking up, feeling your tears well up again.
"What- what?" he asks, hearing you choke up and he tries to pull back to see your face but you refuse, pulling him in even tighter.
You broke into your tears, crying into his chest as you finally process that Jay was right here, right now, that he was real and you were hugging him.
You swore that you would be cool and nonchalant once you see him again, but you were the complete opposite. You've missed him so much that you would've killed to see him again. He was right here in your arms, and you were so afraid that he was going to slip away again. That he would leave you again.
He sensed that you were crying and pulled you closer to your chest, patting and caressing your back as he listened to you weep. He didn't complain that he was just standing up and silently comforting you, and he also didn't complain that you were wetting his shirt with your tears. And the fact that he didn't complain reminds you how much of a great person he was.
How genuine and perfect he was, and how this was the same man that you fell in love with.
After a while, you loosened your grip around him and pulled back slightly, but he pulled you in again, "I know I'm being selfish, but I wanna stay like this a bit more."
There was a moment of silence. Typically, you'd cover up silence by singing a random song or pulling up with a random joke or conversation, but this time you settled with it. With him, the silence doesn't feel heavy, and it only made you feel happy. You snuggled your head into his chest, staring into blank space as you felt a piece of your heart come back.
"I missed you so much," he spoke up, breaking the silence.
You wanted to tell him everything. You wanted to tell him that you missed him too, and how it was more than just 'missing'. You wanted to tell him how you've been, share your achievements with him and reconnect with him, but he spoke first.
"I'm really sorry"
You were puzzled. What would he be sorry about?
"Sorry for what?"
"Leaving you."
Your heart stopped for a second. You knew that it was his goal to pursue a degree overseas, and you wanted to support him by all means. It wasn't his fault, but at the same time you were bound to get hurt because of him.
"You shouldn't apolo—"
"I know I hurt you. A lot. I'm really sorry for it, Y/N."
You let his words sink in, your eyes staring blankly into nothing as you recall all of those nights you've spent crying because of him. You chuckled lightly, "I knew I haven't moved on yet, but seeing you again just made me realise how I barely have any progress, Jjong".
He continued to switch between caressing and patting your back, this gesture making it feel like you were at home. "You called me it," he chuckled.
"Called you what?"
"Jjong," he muttered. He continued, "I miss hearing that so much".
You grinned, finally pulling back and meeting him eye-to-eye as you two formed eye contact. He changed so much yet he looked the same. His eyes were filled with so much love and life just like before, his nose still being sharp like before and his lips looking the same as ever. At the same time, it was obvious that his face had gotten slimmer, his features were more prominent and that he had matured.
"You look so beautiful," he complimented, tucking a hair behind your ear and staring into your eyes.
"How have you been?" you asked, wanting to hear all about him.
"I've been great. Managed to graduate and get that degree, had a few years of working experience, met new friends here and there, how about you?" he shared.
"Same goes here. I started working in that cafe that you and I were regulars in, made a lot of new friends there," you shared, feeling so happy that you were able to have this conversation with him.
"Really?! That's great! I know how much you've wanted to be a barista!" he exclaimed and tilted his head, his eyebrows raising in excitement.
You beamed at him, your heart warming up at how he remembers small details about you. He mirrors your body language and smiles back at you, there being a small period of silence.
"How do you feel?" he questioned, breaking the silence.
"About?"
"The comet. I know how much you've been dying to see it," he answers you.
"I feel escatic. Happy, jubilant, elated, all of the above!" you replied, your tone overjoyed and he laughed at how pure you were.
"Me too. And I'm so glad I experienced it with you."
Your heart warmed up at his comment and you took his hand, leading him to the mat and sitting both of you down, leaning against him as you both continued to watch the night sky.
You two revisited old memories, laughter filling the air as you recall the experiences the two of you shared. There was so much to talk about since you've been with him since you were young, whether it was as partners or as just friends, and you couldn't believe that it was happening. The entire time you kept pinching yourself in case it was a dream and he teased you, reassuring you by saying, "I'm right here, I'm real, okay?".
You both pointed into the sky, doing the same old activities you used to do, such as counting the constellations, trying to make out what shapes were being formed in the sky by the stars and just joking around with each other.
"Hey, shouldn't we make a wish since we saw a comet?" he suddenly suggests.
"Don't you think it's a little late for that already?" you teased.
"So what? it's still within 24 hours since we saw the comet!" he retorted,
"Okay, okay fine, let's make our wishes".
You both placed your palms together as if you were praying and closed your eyes, silently making your wish.
I wish that this night lasts forever.
After a few seconds of silence, you two finally finished making your wishes and you both looked at each other.
"What'ya wish for?" you questioned.
"If I say it out loud, it won't come true," he replied cheekily and you sighed, almost forgetting how playful he was.
"Okay okay, whatever you say,"
You two sat in silence for a bit, your head resting on his shoulder and you two continue to admire the sky together, not even realising that your hands were interlocked by now.
"Also, I'm moving back," he confesses out of nowhere.
You looked at him completely baffled, your eyes widened, eyebrows raised and your jaw dropped. "You're joking," you responded, not believing him.
"I was planning on moving back next year, but hearing that there was going to be a comet, I decided to come back earlier," he grins. He continued, "And I really wanted to see you. I knew you'd be here, so I ca—".
Without warning, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him in, connecting your lips together. This was the feeling that you missed the most — his lips on yours. Without wasting a second, he kissed you back, your mouths moving in the same rhythm. His lips felt just right with yours, and the fuzzy feeling in your heart grew. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him closer and drowning in his warmth. After a while, you were starting to feel breathless so you pulled back, your forehead resting on his as you both stared into each other.
"You don't know how much I've been wanting to do that this entire night," he speaks.
"Well, guess I beat you to it," you chuckled, biting your lip as you felt mischevious.
He suddenly leans in beside your ear, whispering "I wished that we would last forever".
"You said that if you said it out loud it wouldn't come true!" "I whispered it, didn't I?".
You laughed at his quirkiness. "I guess you're right," you admitted.
"If I'm right, could I get myself another kiss?" he requests. You rolled your eyes at his silly request. You were about to lean in again but he stopped you, "And let's get back together?"
You smiled at his last request and you nodded, "Okay".
You finally leaned in again, your heart feeling like it was complete once your lips comes into contact with his again.
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cly's note writing about this song AGAIN cos i genuinely love it with a passion. i beg yall to listen to it if yall havent. my country's gonna have a comet too so that's another reason LOL. so sorry for being ia </3 i havent written in a while so im really rusty + i hope that it's not obvious i got lazy at the end
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leafcabbage · 3 years ago
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hi hello very cool tumblr user leafcabbage. i sent an ask a few days ago abt starting your fic i dont remember if i was on anon but if i was then thats me!
anyways bc i'm clinically insane i finished binge reading ycssgwtlfs this afternoon and haven't been able to stop thinking about it actually!! sometimes the it gets worse before it gets better trope isn't my cuppa but you definitely made it work so well if not for the SHEER amount of hurt no comfort liiiiikeeeee omg omg omg omg that series of chapters where ranboo was just slowly losing their grip was just so exhausting to read (shals pos so slash pos!! i mean that like it very deeply emotionally affected me!!) and i am so here for it because it made the comfort at the end so so worth it. very excited to continue w the next parts :D
i also loved the little moments scattered throughout. i want to see so much more of techno and wilbur's relationship because that is really fascinating to me. i could read a whole other fic about that actually they have a great dynamic also bc we saw both their biggest flaws come to the forefront when trying to help ranboo. its just interesting. and!!!!! woah?! whats up with big q and techno?!! intrigue moment!!!!
and even though dream was a piece of shit (btw you wrote the gaslighting SO WELL that is exactly what it feels like. i was genuinely nervous everytime i read his name because we don't know whether ranboo was gonna get manipulated until he started talking. i thought it was a great detail that dream's mood was always the first thing we learned in every scene's narration because ranboo had to walk on eggshells with him. GOOD SHIT!!!! GOOD SHIT!!!!!!!!!) i rlly hope he gets out of that clearly toxic family eventually. how dare you make me empathize with him >:[
and purpled my beloved...... idk i just liked his and ranboo's dynamic. it was cute and i really liked seeing him and punz at the end. he is in the bathroom a lot. hope the guy is doin okay. i took that uquiz you made bfore i started reading the fic and i got him, so i am just attached ig oopsies. also tubbo and tommy's roomie was such a good moment it was genuinely really wholesome and is like my new favorite long build up joke ever :D
(also ahhh sorry if its annoying that i'm sending this in ask form instead of just commenting, especially since its kinda long!!!!!! but my eyes hurt from staring at the ol screen, tumblr interface is just a lot less headachy lol, thanks for writing such a wonderful fic and i hope youre having an awesome day!)
ahh this made me so happy!!! dont worry about sending it in ask form, i love seeing the little blue dot that means i have an ask, its very exciting. this did genuinely jumpscare me (in a funny way), which sound so dumb but i open the ask box and saw a long ask and went "woah!!" and genuinely actually jumped. thought you might enjoy learning that.
long answer so
i really really work hard on making the hurt worth it for the comfort, and having enough time to have that comfort and recovery. i think it helps that im writing a full series so if something wasnt dealt with in ycssg, i have quite a few more fics to deal with it and create closure. but im glad it was worth it! and it got tiring for me writing those chapters to be honest, it draws out just a little long and that was on purpose. it doesnt end at the perfect time, like in an ideal world ranboo would have accepted help at thanksgiving and that would be the beginning of things getting better, but thats not how life works. ranboo did not willingly seek out help, and thats an important part of the story. they accepted help because they were convinced they were literally dying and didnt know what else to do. and then they were somewhat reliant on tommy and tubbo, and if that hadn't been the case things wouldn't have ended up where they were.
sorry im now just talking about my own fic, that was all to say thank you ajshdlfk
thank you with the relationship comment too! i really wanted to make it clear that everyone has a life outside of the bench trio too, so in my head they have semi fleshed out stories and lives. especially dream. theyre all real people (or as real as fake people can be) not just props
dream was such a complex character to write, and he continues to be, and i love writing him so fucking much. he's ranboo's antagonist but he isnt evil and inherently awful, he has his own life and his own problems (which doesnt make what he did to ranboo ok at all, but thats just to say that hes a person out side of it) and im glad the emotions in his scenes came through so clearly!
purpled has ibs thats canon and its because i have ibs and i thought it would be funny. love the guy, really. hes one of my favorite side characters. i love him and im glad you like him too he deserves to be liked. IM GLAD YOU LIKED THE ROOMIE i have this ongoing joke with myself that he was fridged but in like a moving out kind of way. he was uhauled. hes my favorite NPC <3
im glad you enjoyed ycssg so much!! and i hope you enjoy the next fics too!!! this ask made me smile very much so thank you for that!!
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redeadepression · 5 years ago
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I have this theory that in future RDR games we will come to know exactly when and why John left the gang for that year. Where he went, what he did. They spent a lot of time talking about the fact that he left with no real explanation as to why, how etc. I was waiting for the whole game for an explanation to come and it never did. They made a huge point of mentioning it several times. Which is a lot in comparison to say, some important details about the main protagonists life that were only mentioned in very specific points of optional dialogue. I feel like Rockstar is possibly building up John’s story for a big reveal. 
In RDR2 they took a universally loved character (John) and kicked him as far down the moral ladder as they could, making us all feel foolish for loving this man that was such a deadbeat. Obviously in the end he redeemed himself and we all felt justified in our initial adoration for him after he righted his wrongs.
I feel as though there’s potential for another ‘gotcha’ moment when the next game is released. Perhaps we find out that the reasons John left the gang are just. The things he did while he was away were noble etc. So that once again we’re all reeling at the idea that we could have possibly hated this man so much for what was really a misunderstanding that was never mentioned to us or taken out of context.
Rockstar seems to love painting characters in a certain light and then flipping the switch to reveal another side of them. I am honestly so curious to see how they would paint Arthur in a prequel. I don’t think a lot of players would really be prepared for how dark they could take his character.
But back to John. They made such an amazing effort on his personal redemption and it justified our love for him once more. So perhaps that really is all she wrote on the subject. Context of his abandonment is not needed as long as we get the message he redeemed himself etc. Perhaps he really did just leave because he was scared of the responsibility and not ready to be a Father. Maybe it will literally never be mentioned again because of how nicely his story wrapped in RDR2. Either way I have this weird feeling and I wanted to get my theory out in to the world on the off chance it ends up being correct.
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holychocopie · 3 years ago
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Patch him up
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Romeo, Save Me collab with @bakuroo-writings for White Day
Fushiguro Toji x F!Reader
Summary: Toji comes knocking at your door in the middle of the night, he needs to be patched up. It's turning into a bad habit but you can't deny him: you're weak for this man, and you caught feelings.
Author’s notes: Hi friends! Here’s my contribution to @Bakuroo-writings ‘s Romeo, Save Me is a Damsel (Damoiseau) in Distress collab. I tried to not be too out of character with Toji, I hope you enjoy! Please reblog to share the love, it helps a lot! xx
Warnings: F!reader, slightly tsundere reader, swearing and some crude words because it’s Toji, blood and injuries, mentions of medicine and needles, mostly SFW but mentions of sex + sorta classic tragedy feels. Proof-read by me, at 2am, so probs a few typos left, sorry 🙇‍♀️
Minors please do not interact.
Word count: 5281 (I know… it’s long again, sorry)
Thoughts and highlights in italics. Texts in bold.
--
It was very late that night – or maybe very early in the morning – when you heard loud poundings against the door downstairs. In the midst of your upside-down dreams full of zombie dogs and creepy people walking through walls, your brain first thought that the banging was part of the soundtrack of that crazy night fiction. It did take a long minute for you to realise that there was an actual someone at your door. So, you got out of bed, put on some sweatpants, pocketed your phone in case you’d need to call the cops, and shuffled out of your room, then down the stairs.
You were leaving on top of your parents’ pharmacy; it was an exchange of courtesies. You were a broke med student, and they had some dodgy people trying to break in at night a few times over the past year, only chased away by the sound of the alarm system. So, you agreed to move in there and make the place look “alive” until late at night, and in exchange they wouldn’t charge you a dime for rent, power, water or internet. Extra bonus: it wasn’t far from your campus!
So far, over the six months that you had been living there, you’d had to get out of bed in the middle of the night only twice. Once for a junkie trying to get in, whom you had frightened away by showing up behind the window-door, wielding a baseball bat. And the second time, for your bloodied neighbour, Fushiguro Toji, in dire need of a nurse to patch him up. You hadn’t asked any questions, you knew if he wanted a doctor he could have just gone to the hospital instead. Plus, it was nothing serious, so you had been able to patch him up on your own easily.
You really hoped it was him this time again, ‘cause you couldn’t be fucked dealing with a random junkie again. Although, you also hoped that if it was him, he would be injured again…
On your way to the back door, you grabbed the bat because ‘you never know’, right?!
“Yeah, yeah, stop knocking already, I’m not deaf, alright?!” you grumbled loudly, although you doubted whoever was knocking at your door could hear you above the noise they were making.
You unlocked the door but kept the safety chain on, then turned the outside light on, so you could check the identity of your unwanted guest.
“Turn the damn light off,” the familiar deep voice growled as he pushed the door roughly enough for the chain to crack and break.
“Please, come in,” you said, sarcasm coating your words, yet turning off the back door’s light off, as you were told.
While closing the door behind him, you absentmindedly wondered if the chain was just poorly made, or if the man himself was simply too damn strong.
“What the fuck do you want, Toji? It’s past 3am, you know…” you asked, trying to sound annoyed while truly you were (a bit too) happy to see him again.
“Yeah, I know, brat. What are you, the universal clock or something?” he answered with a mocking smirk.
You noticed immediately that something was off with his voice… Other than the fact that he was keeping his voice down, he sorts of sounded out of breath or something. But you decided to give him a bit of a hard time anyway, because he always ever came to you when he needed you, and you were kind of done with his attitude overall.
“I need a service,” he added. “Can you patch me up?”
“Just go to a damn hospital, for fuck’s sake! I’m not your personal nurse, alright!” you answered, really annoyed with his cowboy-like manners.
“Come on, ain’t neighbours supposed to help one another? I happen to need your help right now… Badly…”
Somehow his voice died down as he hissed in pain, holding himself to a shelf. Your instinct kicked in immediately and you came closer to him to catch him up. As soon as you were in his arm-reach, Toji’s free hand clasped onto your shoulder for support. He still stumbled a bit, and you reached for his centre of gravity, to try and keep him steady. But when your hands touched his body, you felt the familiar thick, warm liquid stick to your palms and fingers. The blood was soaking through his t-shirt and hoodie. You gasped as you could only guess how much of it he had lost already. The cogs in your brain switched you on doctor-mode, and you already knew the best course of action: lay him down in recovery position, find a thick cloth to pressure the wound and limit the blood loss, call for help…
But Toji wouldn’t give you the luxury to get him down gently: his legs gave away under him and you struggled under his weight, both arms wrapped around his torso to try and hold him up. The man was tall – an absolute hunk – so your smaller frame couldn’t really do much to keep him standing. As he pulled you down in his fall, Toji still managed to land on his side, dampening the shock, his large hand protecting the side of your head so you wouldn’t break your skull on the tiled floor of the storage room of your family’s pharmacy. The only thing that stopped the shelf he was holding onto to fall on top of the both of you, was that it was screwed to the wall in case of earthquakes, and a part of you silently thanked your father for being so diligent.
“Sorry,” Toji mumbled, now barely conscious.
“Hey, stay with me!” you exclaimed as you sat up, quickly pulling your phone from your pocket. “I’m calling an ambulance!”
“No…”
“You need proper medical attention! Don’t argue with me!”
“If you call, they’ll come for you too…”
“They?!” you exclaimed, slightly panicking, frantically searching for something to press against his wound. “Who’s ‘they’? Oi! Toji!”
But the man had just passed out.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” you mumbled to yourself as you hurriedly stood up to turn on a small desk light that you put on the floor beside your patient.
Since you couldn’t call the emergency services, you had no choice but to do your absolute best to keep Toji alive, by yourself. You grabbed a medical kit before kneeling beside him again. You removed your top, sacrificing your favourite Harry Potter t-shirt to save the bastard’s life, pushing the piece of clothing onto his injured flank.
With your free hand, you unzipped his hoodie, then searched through the kit for a pair of scissors, which you used to cut through his tee. You peaked at the wound: it looked like his left side had been neatly slashed. The blood wasn’t gushing out, more like flowing out gently, which was a good sign. It seemed unlikely that any artery or organ was touched, but of course you couldn’t be 100% sure with the poor lighting and without actual imagery material. You were only in your fourth year of med school and you definitely didn’t have enough practice to analyse an injury at first glance… But you had enough knowledge to stop the bleeding and patch him up!
So, you did your best. But by the time you were done cleaning and dressing the wound, you found him very pale. Checking for his heartbeat and blood pressure, you figured that they were both pretty low: he had definitely lost a lot of blood and would need a transfusion… Toji was in luck, because you happened to have a bit of blood to spare.
---
A good couple of hours later, the adrenaline was finally leaving your system, and exhaustion started kicking in. But you couldn’t just let yourself fall asleep; you had to keep watch and make sure your patient was holding up.
You had put your dirty medical stuff away for sanitising, thrown away the used gauze, gloves, needles and transfusion kit – as well as your now dead tshirt – and you had cleaned as much of the blood on the floor as possible. With Toji spread across your storage room, unconscious, it had been a hard task. You had also wrapped the man up in a space blanket to keep him warm, making him look like a giant takeaway burrito, and put a couple of folded towels under his head as a make-do pillow.
You were sitting not far from him, with your back against the wall, playing mindlessly with the dead skin around your nails; you had thoroughly scrubbed your hands a few times already, but the blood had stained a bit in some spots. You had used gloves of course, but because you had already come in contact with his blood, then put on the gloves without washing your hands because of the urgent situation, it had dried and imprinted in the dried skin. Gross… you thought. That’s why I want to be a GP, and not a surgeon...
In the silence of the room, Toji’s sudden muffled groan just about made you jump out of your skin. Now wide awake and alert, eyes dashing to the patient lying down a couple of metres away, you warned him:
“Don’t move, you idiot.”
But of course, he wouldn’t listen. Toji pulled an arm out of the burrito wrapping then passed a hand over his sweaty face. You got up and fetched one of the clean towels that you had brought down from your bathroom while he was resting. You kneeled beside him again and gently wipe his forehead and neck, relieved that he had warmed up enough to sweat a bit; before, his temperature was on the lower side because of the blood loss.
“So, you did patch me up,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
“It wasn’t easy since you lost so much blood. You’re lucky the damage wasn’t too bad in the end, or you would have died since I’m not equipped for life-saving emergencies.”
You reached for your stethoscope and checked his heartbeat and blood pressure, then with a small light you inspected his eyes for pupillary reflexes. If you hadn’t fixed the motherfucker yourself, you wouldn’t believe that there was anything wrong at all. Everything seemed already back to normal… You frowned. This guy really is something!
“How long have I been out?” he asked.
“Just about three hours.”
“How did you do it? I was pissing blood, I half expected to die. Do you keep packs of O-negative in your fridge or somethin’?”
He was joking, but you didn’t laugh.
“I’m O-negative.”
The expression on his face changed as he seemed to realise the extent of what you just said… You literally gave a bit of yourself to save his ass. From his perspective, that meant a lot: no one had ever gone that far for him. Ever. But he would be damned if he mentioned that to you… So instead, he just kept on joking.
“I’ll keep note of that for next time.”
“Please don’t. I don’t intend on becoming your personal blood bank. Don’t make a habit of turning up here all beat-up, please.”
He chuckled at your annoyed expression.
“You know what they say: ‘all good things come in three.’”
“Don’t be too smug, I might just let you bleed out on my doorstep next time,” you answered grumpily.
“So, mean…” he said with a small pout, mocking hurt.
“If I was, I wouldn’t have taken care of your sorry ass twice already!”
“I took care of your ass too,” he smirked.
Offended, you punched his shoulder straight away, only to yelp as your knuckles hit what felt like a wall of brick.
“What the fuck! What are you made of? Concrete?” you exclaimed, rubbing your sore hand.
“You just hurt me and you’re the one complaining?”
“Like hell I hurt you! I just about broke my hand!”
He laughed, and you couldn’t help but cracked a tiny smile. There was something endearing about Toji whenever he genuinely laughed and bantered with you. He was a handsome and charismatic man, and the permanent darkness that seemed to surround him really added to his charm. But you were absolutely weak for his cheeky grins and loud laughter.
He was your neighbour – and yes you had saved his life twice and shagged once – but you actually crossed path with him on a regular basis too. First, because he somehow seemed to always be in need of bandages and painkillers, but also because you were buying your groceries from the same konbini, taking the bus and train from the same stations, walking in the same park… So, as you got more and more acquainted, you came to know a bit more about him each time you met. And somehow, you had a feeling that he wouldn’t smile and laugh so heartily very often. So you kind of felt a little bit special everytime he did in front of you.
“My whole body hurts, you know,” he said, his smug smirk back on. “Even my dick… You should kiss it better.”
And here he goes, happily stomping over whatever romantic thoughts I was starting to have… you thought, shaking your head at his lewd invitation.
“I’m not that kind of doctor, but I can easily punch it better if you want. I’m pretty sure you are just as weak as any man down there.”
“You and I obviously remember our ass-on-desk session very differently. From memory, you kept loudly moaning how good my thick hard cock felt while I was railing you…”
You blushed madly, not even trying to deny anything. And he laughed again.
“You’re so bitchy.”
“And you’re a cunt,” you talked back as you stood up to go get the bottle of water you had brought down earlier.
Toji tried to move again, wincing in pain.
“Don’t fucking move!”
“So what? You want me to stay lying on the floor of your storage room?” he complained, yet lying back down obediently.
“Yes. Hence why the pillow and blanket. At least until you’ve rested enough.”
You sat down beside him and handed him the water, and a few painkiller pills. He took the items that you handed him, but ignored them and asked:
“Why so bitter? You hate me that much or somethin’?”
If you didn’t know better, you’d say it nearly sounded like he was hurt (?). You sighed and answered:
“I guess waking up alone last time after you had your way with me, a bunch of crumpled 10,000¥ notes stuffed in my hand like I’m some cheap whore, won’t incline me to show too much sympathy.”
“The money was for the care,” he stated, and you could nearly hear the silent ‘duh!’ at the end of his sentence.
“Yeah, thanks, I have enough common sense to have figured that much out. Still, doesn’t trump the feeling of having been used like a prostitute.”
“Not a cheap one though, with all the cash I left.”
He smirked.
“I’m definitely gonna punch you, even if I have to break my hand in the process.”
He chuckled, and you only got more frustrated by his attitude.
Toji eventually chucked down the pills and emptied the bottle of water in a few gulps. You started chewing at your bottom lips nervously when your eyes caught the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing. He angered you so much, and yet turned you on so easily! You redirected your frustration at yourself; how could you be so weak…?
Toji looked at you as he put down the bottle on the other side of him; he was very aware of the effect he had on you. He had to be aware, there was no way your very obvious embarrassment would go unnoticed. He was a very sharp man, always prompt at picking up details, that much you knew… You only had sex once – well, like half a dozen time in one night but that’s a technicality – and he had quickly figured out what were your pleasure points, and what was the fastest way to make you come. So yeah, you had no doubt that he had noticed that, despite your general annoyance at the situation, your attraction for him was just as strong as always.
He patted the spot beside him, and said in a voice that didn’t leave room for argument:
“Come here.”
But you were up for a challenge, so you answered stubbornly.
“What for?”
“I’m cold. Keep me warm.”
“I’ll just get you another blanket.”
“Just come here.”
His tone was firm, but not mean nor threatening, and you found yourself caving in. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be close to him anyway, so might as well just give him what he wanted… So, you lied down beside him, somehow comfortably snuggled against his right uninjured flank, your head resting on his chest as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Given how warm he felt, he was clearly full of shit when he said he was cold, but you already knew that.
After a moment of silence, he said:
“Thanks. For taking care of my sorry ass again.”
“You’re welcome,” you mumbled with exaggerated annoyance, yet touched by his genuine display of gratitude.
Another few minutes went by without any of you speaking, and you thought he might have fallen asleep. But then all of a sudden:
“Do people still go on dates nowadays?”
“What rock do you live under? Of course, yes, dating is still a thing.”
“Should I take you on one?”
Your heart missed a beat. You bit your lip again before answering.
“I’d rather not. I don’t want whoever did that to you to think that I’m linked to you in any way, shape or form.”
It was a sensible answer, but you knew it was also full of shit.
“Fair enough. So, should I just sneak in for a quick fuck again, then?”
You scoffed at his poor attempt at romantism, but since he wasn’t really the gentle type, you decided to settle for whatever demonstration of affection he had to offer.
“I guess you could bring some takeout…”
“Mexican?” he asked with a hint of… Was it excitement that you heard in his voice?!
You smiled to yourself.
“Italian.”
“Gotcha.”
Your heart was definitely beating a lot faster, because you were excited at the idea of seeing Toji again in a less dramatic context. You didn’t want to hope too much because you knew that he probably would never be the one to give you that house by the beach with six cats that you dreamt of – he didn’t seem to be much of a family person to be honest. But you had such a strong crush on him that you were happy to take him as he was, if he would let you have him.
Another few minutes passed by and this time, judging by his quiet breathing and the calm pace of his heartbeat, you knew he was asleep. Or not.
His next words made you jump.
“Wanna ride my cock now?”
“In the name of everything that is good and pure in this hell of a world, will you just sleep already?!” you exclaimed. “Get some rest so I can kick you out without feeling guilty!”
“I’d fall asleep faster if you’d fuck the pain away,” he answered.
“I’ll get the morphine and shoot you to sleep then,” you said, blasé.
But as you moved to get up and go for the potent drug, he flexed his muscles, tightening his embrace. His silent plea was heard, and you settled down again with a sigh. He didn’t want you to go, and you didn’t want to leave either. You were so weak for this man.
---
Two weeks had passed since Toji had shown up at your door in the middle of the night, bloodied and in need of your help. Two weeks, since you woke up alone, on the floor of your parents’ storage room at the back of their pharmacy, tucked in the space blanket that you had used for Toji. Once again, you had found a bunch of notes in your hand, this time not crumpled but neatly folded – as if that would make you feel better! What did make you feel better however, was the post-it he had stuck on your forehead that said, ‘Thanks again hot-stuff, I’ll see you soon’, with his phone number on the back.
Two weeks had passed, yet when he texted you earlier that day, you immediately forgot about your annoyance. You just wanted to see him again.
Just finished a big job today, wanna celebrate with me?
You had to hold your horses so you wouldn’t rush it and answer straight away. Eventually, after five minutes, you had texted back:
Sure. Don’t forget the food.
Italian, yeah?
You had smiled; he remembered! That simple detail had you all happy for the first time since your years in high school, little butterflies and popping bubbles in your stomach, and all that jazz.
Yep.
Cool. You home right now?
Why?
Yes or no?
Yes. I am home.
Sweet. See you tonight hot-stuff.
That cryptic last text had you fidgeting, to the point that you had trouble focusing on your revisions. You really wanted to get some work done before your wild lover visited you, because you just knew that you would not get anything done while he’d be there.
You had kept on blushing, your head full of stupid and superficial thoughts. What should I wear? Does he like lingerie? Maybe we could go for a walk through the park, the night will be warm and the moon full… perfectly romantic! Or maybe we could just watch a movie while having dinner? I love having sex on the couch!
Your thoughts had been interrupted by your mom, half an hour later after Toji’s last text, calling for you from the pharmacy on the ground floor. There had been a delivery for you, and it had your mom and the couple of old ladies there for their refill gossip excitedly about your not-so-secret admirer. Indeed, a massive bouquet of 50 red roses had been brought for you by the local florist, and your heart just started pounded in your chest as loudly as Toji had, against your door, two weeks prior.
You didn’t even try to hide your smile as you reached for the flowers and breathed in the delicate scent of the luxurious gift.
There was a card attached to it: ‘I suck at stuff like that, but I know girls like flowers. I really wanna take you out tonight. Put on a cute dress.’ Stop making me fall for you, Fushiguro Toji! you had thought.
But that, was hours ago.
Sitting on your bed, you glanced at your clock, it was about 11pm. If Toji really wanted to take you out for dinner, he was definitely too late for that. All the restaurants would be closed by the time you hit town… Nothing was gonna happen tonight. Or maybe he had simply changed his mind and decided to stay home with you instead? You kept hoping he’d knock at your door anytime. You sighed, disappointment having progressively replaced your excitement as the evening had passed and the hands of your clock moved through the dial. It was time to give up.
You stood up and walked to your mirror so you could take one last look at your neatly arranged hair, your perfect makeup and your pretty dress. You had put in so much effort and care in making yourself cute and girly for him… what a waste.
After you put on your pyjama, you went to your kitchenette to cook some noodles, since you hadn’t had any dinner yet. You then tried to use the extra time to do some revisions, but you just couldn’t get any work done, so you ended up going to bed. It took a while for you to fall asleep, a nasty feeling of anxiety and fear clutching to your core. That lead to a bunch of terrible nightmares.
In the morning, you decided to text Toji. You wanted to sound annoyed, you wanted to put on a façade and show that you didn’t care. But you didn’t. You decided that maybe, if you showed that you cared, he’d would give you a truthful explanation as to why he didn’t show up last night.
Look, I’m not gonna lie, I’m mad. But I’m worried too. I hope that you simply changed your mind, and just didn’t wanna see me after all. But I have this nagging feeling…
Just text me back ‘cause I’d rather stay mad than be keep worrying.
But days passed. Weeks passed. And Toji never replied.
---
Years had passed. Nine years exactly.
You walked into the emergency room, ready to start your shift. You grabbed a pad with a few admission sheets that the head-nurse had put together for you, while taking a sip of well-needed caffein from your keep-cup.
You never thought you’d become a surgeon. You used to hate the blood, and the panic that came with having to take the right decision in a matter of seconds in order to save lives. But here you were, a fully-fledged general surgeon, living on bad coffee and four-hour sleeps, like some adrenaline junkie.
You walked over to the small room where your first patient of the evening was waiting for you. A tall young man, all dressed in black, with thick, short white hair, round black shades and lanky legs, was standing there nonchalantly, his back against the door frame. Visibly in perfect health condition, he obviously wasn’t your patient. You ignored the charming smirk that spread across his lips as you passed him, and looked at the kid sitting on the bed, waiting for you.
“Hi…” you started, but your voice died down in your throat as you took in the sight of his raven hair, emerald irises, and grumpy expression.
With an experienced eye, you could tell that he was mostly okay, except for the few bruises along his jaw and on his left cheekbone. You had read the sheet on your way there: ‘Gojo Megumi. 14 years old. Abdominal pain, possible broken ribs.’ Though if he was in pain, he was doing a fantastic job at not showing it.
But what was really troubling you was the resemblance. Toji.
You’d lie if you said you hadn’t thought about the man in a while, because you thought of him nearly everyday. You sighed. Fushiguro Toji, the man that had you head over heels for him before mysteriously disappearing, was still holding a way to big portion of your heart, to the point that you were having trouble committing to a relationship. And seeing this kid, who was a carbon copy of him, just gave another jab at your wounded, weeping heart. It had been years, and now you had you house by the beach, and seven cats! But you still wished you knew about Toji’s whereabouts. If asked, you’d probably give back the house – but not the cats – in exchange for a reply to your last texts.
“You alright there?” the white-haired man enquired when your silence prolongated beyond what would be considered socially not weird.
You took a deep breath in before answering a bit coldly:
“Yes, thank you for your concern.”
You then examined your patient thoroughly. He was quiet, probably an introvert, maybe even quite shy. He let you do without complaining, and you did your best to put your tormented thoughts aside. The names didn’t match, after all. Besides, what would be the chances anyway?
“Where did you get those bruises?” you asked as you took some notes.
“I got into a fight at school.”
You took a look at him: his casual attitude and flat tone didn’t make it seem like he was lying. His school uniform was indeed crumpled and dirty, and his knuckles were bruised and a bit bloodied too. The white-haired man behind you, who was watching your every move silently, didn’t look like he took any damage, so it was unlikely that he was the one who had roughed up the kid. Yet, you had to do your job.
“Can you leave Gojo-kun and I alone for a short while, please? Patient-doctor privilege.”
“Sure!” he exclaimed happily, putting on a bright grin even though you could feel his eyes piercing through your skull, even with his shades on.
“Wait a minute! Gojo-sensei, did you write down my name as ‘Gojo’?”
For the first time, the black-haired kid showed some emotion: a deeply annoyed frown marked his young features as he glared at the older man.
“Yep! You’re my ward, after all!” the man answered with a pout.
How old is this man-child? you wondered, as you witnessed their interaction.
“Argh! Please, leave so we can get this done!” Megumi – since Gojo wasn’t his name – said with a I-am-so-done-with-your-antics kind of expression.
“Fine, fine!” the man – Gojo-sensei – chuckled with a shrug as he walked out.
Once he had left, you asked:
“So, do you often get into fights?” you asked as you gently padded his flanks.
“Yeah… But they deserve it.”
“How so?”
“They’re bullies. They reap what they sow.”
You nodded as if you were about to bless him with some old wisdom:
“But then, aren’t you becoming a bully too?”
“If that’s what it takes, I’m fine with it. Don’t worry, I pull my punches.”
You chuckled although you shouldn’t have. You checked his abdomen, and took some more notes.
“Well then, Megumi-kun, looks like you do have two broken ribs, and I think we’ll have to book you in for an appendectomy in the morning. But first, some X-rays just to confirm everything. I don’t think the appendicitis is related to your fight, it’s probably just bad timing. It’s easy surgery though, so don’t worry. It’ll likely heal faster than the ribs. You’ll have to be a good kid for a few weeks if you don’t want to come back with a punctured lung.”
“If that happens, you’ll just patch me up.”
You gulped, trying to ignore the feeling of unease that spread along your spine as those words left his mouth. You scribbled a few more things before you enquired:
“So, Gojo-sensei, is he your guardian?”
“Yeah… The most annoying guardian in the whole country if you want my opinion,” he sighed. “But it’s better than nothing I guess…”
His expression softened, and you smiled fondly. He only pretended to be annoyed… Somehow, that reminded you of yourself. He was a bit of a tsundere too; rough and grumpy on the outside, a softy at heart.
“Is he a good guardian? Does he do his job, and keep you safe and well-fed?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
You chuckled again.
“Alright then. So, should I change the name on the sheet?”
“Yes, please. Fushiguro Megumi.”
You dropped your pen.
Time seemed to have frozen. Your heart stopped beating for what seemed like forever, before it started again, now pounding against your ribcage nearly painfully. Toji…
You didn’t notice that Gojo-sensei had come back. Neither did you notice when picked up your pen.
“You dropped this, doctor,” he said in a soft voice.
He had removed his shades, his impenetrable blue eyes reading your very soul. When you crossed his gaze, you just about stopped breathing. You gasped for air as if you were drowning right then and there. You grabbed the pen clumsily, nodded a silent thank you, and walked out on auto-pilot. Behind you, a confused Megumi asked:
“What’s wrong with her?”
“‘Dunno…”
You mindlessly gave your notes and instructions regarding Megumi’s treatment to the nurse, who immediately started organising for x-rays and the surgery. Meanwhile, you walked to the nurses’ room for a quick two-minute break. You needed it; you were in no condition to check on any patient right now. You were shaking.
You were used to horror. You saw it everyday at the hospital. Families torn apart, people being sick, injured, killed. They’d leave their house in the morning, never doubting they’d go home at the end of the day, only for life – or fate – to get in their way. I just like them, you hadn’t thought when waking up this morning, that fate would put Megumi on your path.
Fushiguro was definitely not a very common name. And Megumi surely looked a lot like Toji. What were the chances?! you thought again. Is it okay if I ask?you wondered. If the kid wasn’t his son, they were at least related somehow, for sure. They had to be… And you needed an answer.
I’ll ask!
Strong with your newfound determination, you walked out of the nurses’ room, only to bump straight into Gojo-sensei’s lanky figure. Was he waiting for you right outside the door or something?
“I was just gonna check on you, doctor. You had Megumi over there quite worried, you know,” he said with what was supposed to be a gentle voice.
You had a feeling that the man was probably very bad at showing empathy, as he sounded sort of fake. But his expression though, was that of awkwardness. He likely felt a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation too.
“S-Sorry,” you answered. “I—”
“He’s dead you know. His dad,” he said in a very casual tone that made you instantaneously sick. “About nine years ago.”
You blinked at the news. Your mouth went dry, your throat tightened, your mind blanked…
“I was there,” he added as he handed you an old Nokia flip phone.
The battery was dead, but you didn’t have to ask who the antiquity used to belong to. You just knew. Toji.
“He never got your texts.”
One single tear rolled down your cheek.
Now that you finally had your answer, you wished again that he had only changed his mind. That he had stood you up instead, because you would rather be mad at him, than him be dead. You remembered that dreadful feeling that had clung to you that night, and remained for weeks on.
‘All good things come in three,’ Toji had said. If you had been there that third time, maybe…
“I wonder… If I would have been able to patch him up again…” you wondered quietly, yet loud enough for Gojo-sensei to hear.
His tone was genuinely kind this time when he answered.
“Not this time.”
---
Author’s notes: SORRRRYYYYYYYY 😅😭 I know! I cheated! I’m sad too, okay! But technically, Reader did save Toji! Twice even! I’m so bad, sorryyyyyyyyy…
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thecirculararchive · 3 years ago
Note
One of your posts pissed a question from me, and I swear this is genuine, Tumblr has decided not to put me on the Endo side of syscourse.
What things are the Endo community doing that makes people hate them so much? And why are a lot of people saying that endogenic systems aren't valid? I'm genuinely confused.
Also, sidenote. If it's a long post to answer this, I am very sick, and can't focus long enough to read long posts. If you could, please answer this in like a week if it's a long post, or maybe @ me in the comments/reblog and @ me so I can read it when I'm feeling better.
This is all genuine, I swear.
I'm stuck and I also didn't check for typos, so I do apologize in advance if this is hard to read.
Hey, I waited for a bit to answer this. @bruno-madrigals-child-vivienne, here you go.
Preface: I'm an endo-supporter I guess, and I also am not the brightest and do make mistakes, so have patience with me.
Endogenic Systems are systems that claim to have formed without trauma. There's a lot more nuance there, but that's the general summary version. Many people say endogenic systems are not valid because they say systems cannot form without trauma. The proof that is stated for this is the DSM and the fact that studies on DID/OSDD/DDNOS/Etc systems have been done that show how trauma has changed the brain, which Endogenics claim not to have. Numerous Endogenics shoot back that lack of proof is not the same thing as proof.
The Endo community is hated for a few reasons, but here's some off the top of my head:
* Ableism. There are a lot of ableist endogenic systems that are very vocal. I'm of the theory that they're not INTENDING to be ableist, but due to the society we live in, it happens very naturally. Things like the heavy focus of "I'm endogenic because I don't feel distress over my alters" due to the DSM thing where it says you need to have dysfunction to be a system? Which. Isn't really the full picture.
* "Sysmed" and "Traumascum". These are two words coined by Endogenics to be used against anti-endos. They're based on LGBT+ terms (particiularly from the transgender community) and refer to "system medicalists" (systems who believe you can't be a system without trauma). The usage of these terms caused many people to immediately lose their shit, because of a lot of reasons. These reasons include: It's offensive to trans people/systems, it's calling traumatized people scum, it's stolen from LGBT+ communites, and it's ableist to insult traumatized people.
* Coining New Terms. It's a big thing in the endogenic community to make new terms up to explain system and alter origins. These origins very often overlap with trauma system origins, and frequently cause anger in traumagen communities.
* Misinformation. This is, by far, the biggest imo. Endogenics do spread misinformation frequently about DID/OSDD/DDNOS/Etc. Many people online are greatly confused by these disorders, and sometimes, endogenics (who are not traumagenic systems and have never experienced being a traumagenic system) speak up when they probably shouldn't. They explain their situations and life, when it's really a traumagenic who should be speaking.
This is a really really brief, sleepy overview. It's probs inaccurate in places and could be better worded. But that's the fast, quick, and dirty version. Hope this helps.
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dont-call-me-baby-posts · 3 years ago
Text
Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Side Chapter 1
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Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Masterlist
Word Count: 5.8k (just a short lil piece about Anders bc why not?)
Inspired by this ask
Warnings: Mentions of dr*g use, addiction, mental health
Summary: Anders is in rehab, sitting in on one of his mandatory “stupid fucking therapy sessions”.
Alternatively: The One About Jena.
A/N: this has nothing to do with Harry or y/n. I’ll lyk right off the bat they’re mentioned like twice this whole chapter. I wrote this solely for fun, if you actually take the time to read it lmk what you think! (Honestly you prob should read this one because it does fill in some blanks but it’s not an official chapter you feel me) ANYWAYSSS lmk what you think!
Also sorry for any typos I didn’t spend as much time on this one proof-reading and what not.
Song Inspo for this chapter: Romeo & Juliet by Peter McPoland
///
The best thing about finally being out of high school was being able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to.
Anders’ mom didn’t want him moving out right after graduation, but he did. His birthday at the beginning of June meant he was now a fully grown adult able to make his own choices, and make choices he did. He moved into a tiny, dirty apartment with Matt in a shifty part of the city that was drastically different from his parents’ cozy suburban home. But he liked that it was so different, even if the AC didn’t work and he had to work two different jobs just to live there. He liked that it was nothing like the place where his parents lived, because he wanted a life that was nothing like the one his parents lived. He wasn’t meant for some boring ass 9-5 like his dad. That’s why he spent his free time writing his silly little love songs and recording them in his bedroom.
The apartment was small and crowded with an assortment of random friends (if you could call them that) and acquaintances always sleeping on the couch or smoking on the rickety balcony outside. It was everyone’s apartment, in a way, even if he hardly knew the people who stayed there most of the time. Anders didn’t mind that, as long as he got to be alone most of the time in his room. No one went in his room.
(One of Matt’s friends had snuck into his room once and broke Anders’ guitar during some party and Anders had to save up for months to get a new one. No one understood why he was so upset about it, because “no one would ever listen to the songs he was writing anyway”. That incident was reason enough for him to kick everyone out after that, but he mostly banned all entry just because he needed a space where he could be by himself when everyone else was hanging out).
Long story short, the apartment was kind of shit. And way too small. Still, Anders wouldn’t have changed a thing. He loved it all the same.
He loved it because he was finally alone. Because he could smoke all the weed he wanted to without his mom freaking out. And because he had Jena.
Jena with her purple painted finger nails. Jena with the loud voice. Jena who said anything she wanted to whenever she wanted to and didn’t care what anyone thought. Jena who was so unlike Anders in almost every single way. Anders was absolutely smitten the moment he met her. He always had been.
Jena was the kind of girl who smoked even more than Anders did and looked like an angel when she did it. She wore clothes that didn’t match. She dyed her hair pink and blue and yellow when she was bored. She was also the kind of girl who “didn’t believe in labels”, which meant she wasn’t technically Anders girlfriend, but she was in every way that actually counted. And even though she never said it, Anders knew she loved him. Anders knew she loved him because she let him smoke as much of her weed as he wanted to. He knew she loved him because she always came back to his apartment no matter how many times she swore she wouldn’t. He knew she loved him because she was nice to him most of the time. It was all pretty obvious if you asked him.
Even after Jena swore she was done with Anders, even when she started dating someone else, he knew she still loved him. Because she kept coming around and they kept having sex on the couch no matter how many “boyfriends” she went through. (Anders tried not to be too bothered by the fact that Jena suddenly believed in labels the second she started seeing someone else other than him. It made it easier not to mind that fact when she came over two or three times a week to hookup, boyfriend or not).
She would do the same thing every time. She would start dating someone, leave Anders on read for a week, then suddenly show back up talking about some “I still have feelings for you”. He believed her every single time. They would fuck and she would tell him what a great guy he was and how much she cared and then she would leave an hour later to go hang out with whatever dude she was currently with. (Jena never stayed the night, no matter what time it was). Anders didn’t mind, or at least he tried not to, because he loved Jena. He loved her enough to let her in his room. And Jena loved him. This is what love was, right?
It was during one of these “on weeks” a good two years into their so-called relationship that Jena showed up one night with some dude named Malcolm. It was confusing to Anders at first because Malcolm wasn’t the boyfriend Jena had just been telling him about the night before. Oh well, he supposed. Jena always said it wasn’t his business anyway.
Malcolm was one of those guys who still hung out with kids fresh out of high school even though he was fully 27 years old. They were all stupid enough to think he was cool, because he was older than them, and Jena thought he was especially cool because he had drugs.
And not the kind that Anders was used to. He had everything. He had it all.
“Come on, Ders, you should try some.” Jena was saying, all of them gathered around the coffee table they’d found on some street corner and brought into the apartment. “Just do a little bit!”
All eyes went to him, which made him instantly uneasy. He shook his head.
“I’m good.” He spoke, keeping his answer short in hopes that everyone would just leave it alone. They didn’t, though, Matt being the next to egg him on.
Anders didn’t even know what it was, and he was too embarrassed to ask. He’d seen Malcolm dump it out of some little baggy he’d pulled from his pocket and that’s as much as he knew about it. He’d never even done anything other than weed, so he was apprehensive to say the fucking least.
“He can miss out if he wants to,” Malcolm said with a softness in his voice that was there only to further embarrass Anders. Malcolm slung his arm over Jena’s shoulder and pulled her a bit closer, Jena happily leaning into him. “Just means there’s more for us, right baby?”
Jena looked across the table at Anders, who was now red in the face for multiple reasons. Anders bit his jaw closed tightly so that his teeth squeaked against one another, thinking.
“Just a little bit, Ders…” She whined, giving him that same old puppy dog face. “It’ll be so much fun!”
She reached across the space, taking Anders hand that he hadn’t realized was gripping onto the edge of the table.
Anders wanted to do whatever she said. Because he loved her. And if she was doing it, which Anders had just seen her do before his very eyes, then he should probably do it, too. It wasn’t a big deal.
“I don’t know….” He still said instead of agreeing, running his hands back through his hair. He didn’t know why he was being such a fucking pussy all of a sudden.
“Get a fucking grip, Ders. Just do it.” Jena told him sternly, losing the softness she’d had in her voice only moments ago and leaning across the space between them. Her face was now just a millimeter or so away from his, which made his heart beat faster than it already was. “It’ll feel so good. Don’t you want to feel good?”
He did. He really did.
He didn’t know what was up with him. Jena said he was crazy, so that was probably it. She’d spent the better part of the last six months telling him that. She said that whenever he spent a week at home without being able to get out of bed. She said that whenever he said he was feeling kind of “funny”. She said that when she came over for some random hookup and Anders said he wasn’t really in the mood. She’d call him crazy and then he’d feel bad and then they’d have sex anyways.
He believed her that he must have been crazy because he was sad all the fucking time. (Not that he would ever let anybody know that but her. He trusted her so completely it hurt him sometimes). Even when he was happy he was sad. And he was nervous, too, all the time. He thought too much about everything. He didn’t like meeting new people. He didn’t like talking to strangers. He didn’t like going to restaurants he’d never been to before because that meant he’d have to read the menu in a panic and figure out what he wanted to order and everyone would think he was being weird. He must be crazy.
Sometimes he would get so nervous he couldn’t even leave his apartment. He would cancel plans and tell everyone he couldn’t go out because “something came up” and then he’d spend the night alone with a blunt. That is until Jena would come over and tell him to “get a fucking grip” and force him to go out anyway. That’s what love was all about, right? Pushing each other out of their comfort zones?
But everything was out of his comfort zone. And she pushed all the fucking time. He let her do it because he loved her, though. He couldn’t say no to her. Even now.
“Fine.” Anders decided as he looked back at Jena over the coffee table, making her face break out into a massive smile. He took the rolled up bill from Malcolm’s waiting hand, (it was a one, they were broke), and leaned over.
And he did feel good. Better than good. It was insane.
And so he kept doing it, on and off depending on how much Jena wanted anything to do with him. Malcolm would come over and Jena would be with him (he still wasn’t sure what they’re situation was, but Jena called him crazy if he’d ask) and they’d smoke and sniff things off the coffee table until Malcolm left and then Jena would suck Anders off in his bedroom. Life was good during the “on” weeks.
But then time went on and she stopped coming around as much. She started telling Anders about all this new stuff Malcolm had, things that Anders didn’t even want to talk about out loud. He held his ground when it came to needles, and Jena never actually came around to force Anders to try them anyway. She’d call every once in a while and talk about them, though. It’s all she ever talked about.
And it wasn’t long after that before Jena started asking for money, or for rides off of random streets Anders had never been to. She’d ask for a place to crash but she didn’t even try to have sex with Anders anymore when she would spend the night because she’d already be halfway unconscious when she’d show up. She would just pass out.
“Maybe you should, like, chill for a bit.” Anders said to her one night, brushing the hair out of her face. She looked different now, she hadn’t dyed her hair in a while. Her roots were back to their dark brown almost to her ears. Her face looked like she had hardly eaten for weeks.
“Would you please relax?” She mumbled, eyes closing already. She was laid next to Anders in his bed, still fully clothed on top of the covers. She smiled as she snuggled up next to him. “You’ve gotta try this stuff, Ders. It’s incredible. It’s better than sex.”
He squinted at her, feeling sick just hearing her talk about it. He shook his head.
“I think you need to get some help or something, Jena… You look like shit.”
Her eyes were closed but he could see them roll under her lids. “Get a grip, dude. It’s not that deep.”
And so he left it alone. For a long time. He didn’t really have much room to talk, anyway. He let her come crash at his place and fall asleep in his bed and he let her borrow money when she “really, really” needed it.
It wasn’t always like this. Sometimes she’d come over and she would almost seem like her old self again. Every time that happened, Anders was so sure that she was done with everything, that he didn’t have to worry anymore. These were the “on” weeks now, fewer and fewer and farther between. The times when she promised him she was staying sober.
It was an “on” week when Anders moved to LA. It was right in the middle of one, actually. Jena really seemed like she was serious about all of it this time, about staying clean. She promised she would call and that she would come visit and Anders even tried to get her to come with him. He left her there in Chicago looking better than she had in a long, long time.
Once he got to LA, though, he didn’t hear anything. He didn’t hear anything for a few days, then a few weeks, then a few months…
He knew she would call in a couple weeks, though. He just had to wait for Jena to be “on” again. It was coming, any day now. She always came around.
He still loved her. He thought about her constantly. He loved her like he loved staying at home. He loved her like he loved that shitty apartment in Chicago. He loved her like he loved sniffing things off coffee tables he’d stolen off the street…
“You must hold some resentment, then, towards her.”
Suddenly, as if in the blink of an eye, Anders was sitting in a therapist’s office inside of a fucking rehab center in the middle of fucking California. So much time had passed without him even noticing it happen. The doctor had asked him to talk about Jena and even though he normally dodged the questions this guy gave him, he couldn’t help answering this one. He must have been talking for a long time, he had gotten so lost in thought…
Anders looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers between each other. “No,” he responded honestly. “I don’t.”
“And why not? If you’re so angry at Christian, why do you think you feel differently about her?”
This guy was always asking stupid fucking questions like this. Ever since Y/N dropped him off at this place that’s all this guy ever did. Anders just continued to stare at his hands.
“I don’t know.”
“Take a guess, then.”
“Because I love her.” Anders answered, knowing it wasn’t a guess at all. “And it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know it would end up like this.”
He was always sticking up for her, even now.
The doctor nodded, rubbing his pointer finger against his lips. “If not her, then who? Who do you blame for all of this?”
Easy answer. “Christian.”
“No, not Christian. You were doing all of this before him, you can’t blame him. So who?”
Anders huffed, annoyed. He did blame Christian, mostly just because he was an asshole but partly because it was Christian’s fault he got so fucked up. Sure, he was doing it all before he moved to LA, but only here and there. Christian was the one who threw him over the cliff. He’s the one who gave him the pills. He was the one who made promises he couldn’t keep, who swore he could fix all of Anders��� problems. He’s the one who swore “everyone in LA does it”.  He’s the one who said it “wasn’t a big deal”.
“I guess you want me to say myself?” Anders responded with a grin. He did his best to push the doctors buttons the way the doctor pushed his, but he never reacted.
“Do you think you should?”
“I don’t know. I fuckin’ guess so.”
There was a pause. There were always these long-ass awkward pauses when he came to this lame-ass shit. He knew the doctor was waiting for him to say more, but he wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was.
“Let’s switch gears…” His therapist changed the subject after a minute, letting out a disappointed sigh at Anders’ silence. Anders could only shrug. “What have you been keeping yourself busy with these last few days?”
“That’s a stupid quetion.” Anders giggled, earning the smallest of smiles from the man across from him. “I’ve been locked up in here like some kind of animal. I haven’t been doing shit.”
“Locked up?”
“Yeah.”
It wasn’t entirely untrue. He spent most of his time in sessions like, or crying, or throwing up, or talking to Y/N on the phone. He wasn’t exactly a busy guy lately. He did, on occasion, get to use the piano in the rec room, which was nice.
“You say that like you didn’t bring yourself here.” The doctor asked, shaking his head. “It could very well be worse for you. You must realize you have work to do.”
Anders groaned. Another stupid ass question from this dude who really thought he was making some kind of point.
“No shit. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m trapped here. Can’t even take a shower alone.”
His doctor nodded, taking off his glasses. He leaned back into his arm chair.
“That must be really difficult for you. But do you not feel that’s justified?”
“Not really.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Crickets.
“I feel like, as much as you and I have talked, you’ve been avoiding talking about that.”
Anders knew what he meant by that. Of course he did. He meant that night, in the shower at his apartment.
“Trying to, yeah.”
“This is therapy, Anders.”
“And?”
“And this is where we talk about stuff like that.”
Anders groaned and shook his head.
“Didn’t you say we could talk about it ‘as soon as I was ready to’?” He asked, mocking the therapist’s voice. “I never said I was ready.”
“I think that maybe you are.”
“Well you’re wrong this time, doc.”
Anders wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he ever would be ready, aside from an out-of-pocket joke about it here and there. (Oh you have a paper cut? That must suck. Have I mentioned I almost died once?)
“And anyway,” Anders added, feeling snarky, “It’s not like I took the pills in the shower. What do they think I’m gonna do in there? I don’t even have anything to off myself with so I don’t see the issue. Worst I could do in the shower is jack off.”
“Where did you take them, then?”
“What?”
“The pills.”
Anders had said too much. Because now this guy wasn’t going to drop it.
“On the balcony.” He answered as if he didn’t think about that exact moment almost constantly. There was a lavender sunset that night that covered all the parts of LA he could see. It reminded him of her, a little bit.
“And you ended up in the shower how?”
“I got cold.”
It was dead silent again. Anders could feel his chest tightening.
“And what was on your mind? You must have been thinking about something.”
“Not a damn thing, actually.”
It was a lie. Obviously. He was thinking about everything. He was thinking about how much he hated LA and how much he hated Jena. No, how much he loved Jena. Right? He thought about Christian and he thought about all his unanswered messages from Y/N and he thought about the fact that nothing would ever, ever be better.
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
“I already said I didn’t, man.”
“Suit yourself. You can keep coming to these, what did you call them again, ‘stupid fucking therapy sessions’ as long as you like until you’re ready to talk about it. I don’t mind.”
Like Anders said before, this funny guy liked to push buttons.
“Are you hitting on me, doc?” He snickered, crossing his arms over his chest. “That might be a bit of a conflict of interest, I think.”
“Hilarious.”
Anders just shrugged, giving his best, most charming smile.
“Have you called your mom?” The doctor asked suddenly, making the smile fall straight off Anders' face and onto the floor.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“And why is that?”
Anders rolled his eyes. “Have you ever had to tell your mom that you overdosed? Seems like a bad time to me.”
“Never had to.”
“Well, try it sometime and let me know how it goes. You can get back to me about it during one of these stupid fucking therapy sessions.”
“If I ever decide to overdose, I will certainly let you know. Maybe give me a few pointers.”
“Hilarious.” Anders quoted the doctor back to him. He tried to be stoic the way the doctor was but ended up cracking a smile anyway.
He thought for a moment, deciding in a moment of weakness to actually be serious with his doctor for once. “I just don’t want to have that conversation with her yet.”
“You really should. That’s a part of all of this.”
“I only get thirty minutes for phone calls.”
“So use them on her. Ask her to visit.”
What was this guy not understanding?
“I use my phone time to call Y/N, and Harry comes for all of my visits. You’d have to give me more time if you really want me to talk to her.”
“You couldn’t spare one phone call with Y/N to talk to her?”
“Don’t want to.”
“But you would for Jena. You try almost every day.”
Right…
“She doesn’t answer anyway.”
“So why do you keep calling?”
“Because maybe one day she will.”
The doctor nodded thoughtfully. All this guy knew how to do was look stupid and nod thoughtfully.
“And what would you say? Why keep calling her in the first place?”
“I’d ask if she’s okay.”
“And if she isn’t?”
Anders hadn’t thought that far. He swallowed, unsure.
“I’d try to help, obviously.”
“And how exactly would you do that?” The man across from him asked, throwing his hands up in the air. “I hate to be frank with you, Anders, but I think we know each other well enough now that I can be. There is nothing you could do for her here. You are in the middle of the hardest battle you’ll ever have to fight. You can’t fight hers, too.”
“I could try-“
“Did it work when Y/N tried to help you? Did that stop you?”
Fuck. Maybe this guy was kinda good.
“No.”
“So why do you keep calling Jena?”
Because he loved her. Because she used to paint her fingernails purple. Because she loved him, even if she never said it.
“Because I feel bad.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t do enough to help when I could have.”
“And there it is.” The therapist sighed again, pointing at Anders' chest. “That’s it. You blame yourself for not doing enough, when in reality there is very little you could have done. She made her own decisions the same way you made yours. Would you want Y/N feeling this way about you? Would you want her to spend the rest of her life blaming herself for your bad choices?”
“I obviously fucking wouldn’t.” He shook his head. “But I can’t help it.”
“You talk about Jena all the time and you say that you love her. Do you feel like that’s true?”
“It is true.”
“After all this time? You still love her like.. like what? Like a girlfriend?”
“Dunno. Not really sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“I mean I don’t fucking know the difference. If you love somebody you love them, right? What difference does it make?”
The therapist raised his eyebrows, almost in shock.
“You need to let it go, Anders. It’s time.”
“Gee, thanks doc. I feel better already.” Anders quipped, leaning forward to give the guy a slap on the shoulder. “You’re great at this therapy thing, you know that?”
The man just sighed, not even a hint of a smile playing on his face. “Do me a favor and be serious with me for a moment. I want you to hear what I’m saying to you, actually. Whatever punchline you’re setting up in your head right now, forget it.”
Anders crossed his arms again, bringing his knees up to his chest. This dude was on his last fucking nerve. Anders answered his question anyway.
“I would have moved on a long fucking time ago if I knew how, dude. I’m not like this on purpose.”
“Well you can start by not calling her this afternoon. You can call your mom instead.”
Anders didn’t say anything. He didn’t like what he was hearing, but he heard it anyway. Even when he turned his head away.
“Are you still writing songs about her?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I still love her.” Anders answered pointedly, annoyed at the therapist for suggesting otherwise.
There would be an “on” week coming any time now. He knew there would be. He just had to wait for it.
It was quiet again. There was no noise coming in from the hallway, there never was in this office.
“I’m starting to feel like this entire hold up on Jena isn’t really about that, Anders. I think you let go of the idea of her on a romantic level a long time ago.” The man said, gesturing with his hands. “I think you’re waiting for, what did you call it, an ‘on’ week because that would mean she’s okay. And then you wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore, right?”
Anders cheeks heated. He wasn’t sure what to say. That wasn’t true, was it? Anders honestly couldn’t tell.
“And you write all these songs about how much you love her because writing songs about some girl you love is easier than writing songs about an addict. Am I totally off base here with this?”
“I-“ Anders tried saying, unsure. He tried to think of a joke but couldn’t. “I don’t know, man. Maybe?“
Maybe he was into something. Maybe Anders told himself he loved her because pining after some girl is easier than worrying about someone who may or may not be living on the street somewhere. Maybe he thought about Jena all the time because he was scared, not because he loved her.
But he did love her. He could still remember the way she smiled. He could remember, in painful detail, the way the light hit her when they would stand out on the fire escape together. The moonlight kissed them everywhere. She saw everything that Anders was, and she liked it most of the time. Why did that still mean something to him if he didn’t love her anymore?
He hasn’t done her justice in his little story earlier. Sure she was harsh sometimes and she wasn’t always around, but she was incredible. There were so many good moments between them, moments when she was his and only his for an hour or two. Moments when she made him feel on top of the world.
“She loved me.” He told the therapist, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he just wanted to see if it sounded like a lie when he said to out loud. The doctor shook his head and leaned forward. He seemed even more serious all of a sudden, even more so than usual.
“Anders, I hope that one day you can see yourself the way I do. The way your friends do. Because as much as you like to believe it, what Jena did to you was not love. Maybe it felt like it was, sure, but that’s not love.” He paused, setting his little notebook down on the desk next to him. “Do I think she had love for you? Sure, why not. But you deserve more than the way she treated you, you know that right?”
Anders' entire face felt hot as he nodded. He didn’t really agree but he was too overwhelmed to do anything else.
“Good. Because I, for one, do not think you are ‘crazy’. You’re not broken. You don’t need to ‘get a fucking grip’, Anders, you just need to take care of yourself. You have this idea in your head that what you and Jena had was love and now you’ve pushed away anything that didn’t feel like that. You think that that’s all you deserve, because that’s all she gave you. That’s just not the case, Anders. You can do so much better, with someone else and with yourself. You deserve it, don’t you? You’re a cool guy. And a good person, too, even if you might disagree.”
Anders rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fact that they were tearing up. He wiped at his cheeks, not wanting to acknowledge that once again this dude was making him fucking feel things.
“Are you hitting on me again, doc?” He asked instead of answering, throwing the man a sideways smirk. His voice was tight in his throat even when covered by humor.
“No, I’m not.” He said, smiling instead of acting annoyed. “Just take the ‘fucking’ compliment.”
The therapist raised his fingers in air quotes, mimicking Anders’ usual vocabulary as he spoke. Anders could help but laugh just a little.
///
His fingers were on the buttons, but he couldn’t bring himself to push them.
He had decided not to take his therapist’s advice before he’d even left the session this morning. So why had he been thinking about it all day?
He’d spent so much time trying to fix Jena. He spent so much time loving her he barely had time to love himself. He just wanted to help. But now this dude was in his head and mixing all the pieces around and making it all so fucking confusing.
“Fuck me…” he grumbled to himself, leaning his forehead onto the wall next to the phone. That therapist was starting to piss him off the way he always made Anders actually think about things. It was annoying.
He started typing the familiar phone number, heart beating out of his chest. He listened to the sound of the ringing, which ended far before he was ready for it to when the person on the other end answered.
“Hello?” The familiar voice said.
His heart stopped. He leaned his head against the wall again as he pressed the phone against his ear. His grip on it was so tight it made his fingers hurt. He was crying, like he always fucking was here, almost instantly. He couldn’t believe it was really happening. He had to clear his throat before he could even speak.
“Hi, mom. It’s Anders.”
///
Around the same time, you were at home deciding which episode of Chopped to put on. Thinking nobodies life could possibly be any worse than yours.
You were reeling after the VMAS. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a second since you’d left there that night.
Harry seemed so different, already. He was exactly the same, but he was somehow so, so different.
He seemed a little bit brighter. Maybe that was just because he hadn’t spent much time around you lately, but he really did. He seemed a little softer around the edges. More refreshed. He seemed better. You couldn’t really explain it.
Good for him, you thought. That was a good thing. You wanted that for him.
He deserved it, and he’d managed to do it because you weren’t there to interrupt the process. You’d made the right call telling him off at Margot’s house after all.
That was a good thing. Really. It was great that he looked better than ever without you. It was fantastic that he seemed totally unphased by seeing you. That was… awesome. Really.
You pressed play on a random episode, not wanting to use up any of your very little leftover brain power to actually pick. You were really, really happy for Harry. He was doing what he said he was going to and it was already paying off.
Which was great. Really.
///
That night, Anders got some time to sit in the Rec Room.
He wasn’t in the mood to play anything on the piano in the corner though, really. He just wanted go to sleep.
It had been a long day. Too long. After his phone call he did what he normally did and went to group where they sat around in a circle and talked about all the ways their lives were horrible. Anders didn’t share, but he never did.
After that he had a visit from Harry, which he tried to cut short but couldn’t. He cried the whole time during that part, too. He just couldn’t stop. It was so fucking embarrassing he wanted to disappear.
Harry wasn’t sure if he was supposed to ask him why he was crying or not. He spoke softly to him about his day, telling him all about the car ride up here and how he saw an old man painting on the beach. Anders grinned, imagining being that old man.
“So do you want to talk about it?” Harry finally had the nerve to ask, crossing his legs to give the illusion of disinterest. He knew by now that if he pushed too hard Anders would topple over, so he tried not to ask too many questions.
Anders wiped his nose on his nose, giggling. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”
He was trying to make it less awkward, for both of them. Harry chuckled because he knew it would make Anders feel better even though it wasn’t funny.
“Don’t ‘ave to if you don’t want.” Harry told him, looking out the window to his right. “Just checking.”
Anders didn’t say anything. He didn’t know why but he actually kind of did want to talk about it, which was weirding him out.
“Just been a hard day, I guess.” He breathed, stretching his aching legs out in front of him. He felt sick all the time, and his body hurt everywhere. “I called my mom, so that was…”
His voice trailed off. “That’s great, mate. Really.” Harry told him, smiling broadly. “I’m proud of you.”
“Stop that…” Anders laughed, a small blush coming to his cheeks. “It’s not a big deal. She just wouldn’t stop crying and shit and… you know. It was just tough.”
“I know it must have been. I’m really sorry. But it’s still good that you did it.”
“Feels like shit though.” Anders said honestly, nails scratching against the awful fabric of the chairs they put in this place. “I let her down so bad, you know? And she was trying to make me feel better. Shit just… fuckin’ blows.”
Harry just nodded along, mouth turned down in the corners as he listened. He couldn’t imagine having a conversation like that with his mom, the guilt Anders must be feeling would have to be crushing him right now.
“Anyway, how have you been? Did you call Y/N?” Anders asked him, wanting the focus to be off of him for a second. He rubbed at his bleary eyes with his cold fingertips.
Harry hated talking about himself at these visits. He hated it because Harry’s problems seemed so pale in comparison. It almost felt silly to bring them up here, but he did anyway because he knew it would make Anders feel better.
“I decided not to.” He answered with a shrug. “And my day’s been fine, I didn’t really do much. Just sat around until it was time to come here.”
Harry wanted to call Y/N. So badly. More than anything.
Seeing her at the VMAs a few days ago had nearly killed him, he was convinced. He didn’t know how he was still standing here at all.
It was a lot to take in. Seeing her, holding her, hearing her talk about Christian. It was devastating in every single way it could have been. He had tried not to think about it too much because he was supposed to be leaving her alone now. He wasn’t supposed to care anymore. But he did, quite a bit. More than anything.
“Why didn’t you call her, man? Didn’t you say you wanted to?”
“I mean I do. But she doesn’t want me to. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
Anders giggled, honestly kind of amused by this entire mess. He got it from both sides, but wasn’t allowed to say anything to either party. It was like watching a TV show where you know what the main character doesn’t. It gave him something to do while he was hear, listening to them both insist the other didn’t want to see them.
“I think she does, man..” Was all he could say. Y/N hadn’t said so explicitly, but she’d been talking about him nonstop. Things like, “I haven’t even thought about him today” or “I honestly don’t care what he’s doing”. She talked about him way too much for either of those things to be true. “She’s probably sitting around at home just waiting for you to call.”
“Highly doubt that.”
“What if I told you I know so?”
“You’d be lying.”
“I don’t lie.”
Harry tried not to smile but did. “I think we both just need some more time. I just really miss her, you know? All the time.”
“Yeah, I know.”
After Harry left, Anders cried again. He cried because he was lonely, maybe, or maybe because he was tired. And now he was sitting on the piano bench, thinking about a girl he loved who he was pretty sure never actually loved him at all.
His fingers brushed the keys, Angie sitting on one of the sofas not too far from the piano. (Angie was probably his moms age. This was her fourth visit here in two years). She waited patiently for Anders to play, the same way she always did when he came in here.
“I got nothing, Angie. Sorry.” Anders told her, still just staring at the keys. She frowned, pulling her feet up onto the sofa so she was propped up on her hip.
“Play that one you wrote for me.” She asked, resting her head on her fist. She smiled a smile that looked almost as tired as his.
Anders remembered, on one of his first nights here, when Angie had sat in that same seat and listened to him play for the first time. He sang a song he’d written year and years ago, back in his old apartment, and she cried the whole time.
“Who did you write that for?” She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Everyone here was so emotional all the time.
Anders threw her a grin, “I wrote it for you, beautiful.”
“Don’t wanna play that one today.” He answered her request, trying not to sound too short with her. He let his shoulders fall.
“Bad day?” Angie asked, voice tinged with an understanding it seemed like only she had for him. He chuckled at the understatement.
“The fucking worst.”
She thought for a second, grinning. “All the more reason to sing a pretty song, hm?”
He couldn’t say no to Angie. So he nodded, playing the beginning notes to a song he’d written for someone else. A song about love and fire escapes and that shitty old apartment. A song about the “on” weeks. A song about a girl that, after thinking about it, he was certain never loved him at all. Not even a little bit
///
Someday, down the road, I hope to be your Romeo I'll climb the wires to your landline While you're crying on the telephone And you're sitting, feet dangling Cheeks so rosy red and saying "Baby, I was so upset, I thought you'd never set me free" "Hello?"
I'd say, "Oh, I love you" to my Juliet If you only knew, I'd kill for you, I am for you I am just who you need me to be Let's get down, and let's grow old This fire escape is getting cold I love that dress, I love the rest Of all that you've got going on
One day when the lines have all been read and memorized I hope you mean it when you say that I am yours and you are mine
Singing down here, on my knees I'm begging, "Won't you marry me?" I love that dress, I love the rest So Jena make me go, go on…
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dialux · 4 years ago
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like, i find some quirks of the universe so funny- there are times when every comment i get is, like, three paragraphs long and so, so, kind; and then there are the times when i keep getting weird ones that i don’t actually know how to respond to: and these aren’t the ones that i’d just brush off for no reason, i’m p sure the authors of said comments aren’t thinking of it as weird, but i just don’t know how to respond to something like “you wrote it well apart from a few typos” bc what do i say??? “haha thx for letting me know something that won’t ever change” AND THEN op of the hp comment- i do think the nickname works!! none of us have any proof either way re: what nicknames jp might have wanted so what the fuck are you talking abt????? what response do you expect from me when you say that? “okay ig we’ll just have to agree to disagree” AND THEN the third comment is definitely the one that i’m vv certain is just wires getting crossed- bc the commenter is vvv genuinely sweet and probs doesn’t know abt all the wank that went down in the fandom, which honestly still gives me hives when i remember it for long enough- but, like, i a) refuse to read/interact w a certain subsect of fandom that got famous off of character bashing, b) don’t actually know the individual involved and have never read their fics, and c) find it kind of strange to hear someone else being expounded upon in such detail on my own fic, so what am i supposed to say?? “oh!! cool! thanks for all of this info i didn’t ask for!!!”
to be clear!! none of this is criticism/me being angry: i’m literally just. staring at my inbox, bewildered. confused. p sure someone’s going to get insulted by my answer bc i don’t want to spend the brain energy to be diplomatic lmao
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kmp78 · 2 years ago
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(Tommy and Pam mini series). I haven't seen it but he def seems majorly effed up and disgusting. 🤨 -You should watch it but know it was a soft version of their story, no guts.
Sorry for all the typos in the last post. I really did proof read but I think this silly app kept auto correcting 😡
Haha no probs! 😂
I don't have the service it aired on so I'm waiting to see if it pops up on TV or smthg. 🤷🏼‍♀️
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goatlingsvent · 3 years ago
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honestly as much as its best to NOT involve myself into reading the trainwreck that is, goatlings "drama" (dk what to call it sincew so much worse worsxe worse has happened) i feel ive lost a lot of love for goats as a game because while yes you can block and jusr go on ur way on goatlings without having problems w players, its a player heavy pet game so it frustrates me how like, you cant really escape. goatlings players. i feel like in the server esp (WHICH IVE SENT A VENT OUT B4 i still think the same and i feel even more validated seeing previous asks that say the same thing ive been trying to say) and entirely the site, so many just. iffy shady or just outright people known to be .. disgusting people with proof to krisgoat herself so many problems surround it and if goats wasnt heavy on interacting w others id have so much less of . just a disappointment? maybe? on how i feel abt it all. since i bothered myself to read older confession blogs seeing a side of goats on my like.. 3? years of playing this game ive never seen, legitimately i look at it then my problems now on goats and wonder if i still truly love this game enuf to keep playing :( i cant just ignore that and pretend like what others say has no weight. it hurts. i spent a lot of real money and ingame money on this game and i feel like now i want to quit but if i do itll all be for. nothing. a game that i cant accept its flaws because there are simply too many. what to do.. like just 3 years ago i was introduced to a new pet game that was very cute and had fun options and you could just do your little games and just be casual and now im stuck in a hellsite that i dont even know if i should stay or not. the fact that youre DISCOURAGED to talk negatively at all and needing confession blogs to truly be honest abt the shit we hate shouldnt be a thing to the point where theres MULTIPLE blogs for this. goatlings is not at fault for how its userbase is but .. to the staff and the owner herself? i dont know if i can say theyre outta the woods. i want to quit and idk if i should bc i dont want my love and effort put into my little cute goats and priceless items to be in vein. i probs should if it makes me so upset and stressed but like i also do still give. some shit abt this game. despite my pain. whateber. thjank u for giving a safe space for me to make a long winded post abt this ily also sorry for mi typos pc typign hard (teddybear emoji).
💅
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rainbowkpop · 7 years ago
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MLM Sub!Vernon Headcanons
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a’ight here wo go!
ok imagine his BF being like 5~7cm taller then him, w/ a grunge /punk rock / all-black style and bleached flat white hair
and if you see them standing 2gether vernon would look like the soft and smol one cuz he is
and when they cuddle BF has vernon’s head like nuzzled into his neck, and when he calls him vernon kinda like looks up w/ the biggest puppy eyes and BF swears in his head that vernon’s perfect cuz omg how can his heart survive that
but then it’s vernon’s turn to be smitten cuz BF says i love you in the most casual, tired/groggy voice ... like shit
and vernon suddenly smiles so wide and bright, that he made the evening back into day
ooo but then one night vernon comes back late from practice/schedules and he’s upset and really down and just flops onto the bed
and BF like comes into the room carefully ‘‘is everything gucci?’‘ like no everything’s noT GUCCI
‘’ i was just reminded how we’ll probably hide forever, ‘cause people wouldn’t accept us and if they found out  it would ruin seveen teen and ple-’‘
and BF just interrupts him and pulls him into a bear hug
and vernon actually teared up cuz he wants the people to know how much he loves his bf???? and how amazing he is’??? like??? how can he be so perfect????
but he smiles when BF just sits there next to him, holding him and gently rubbing circles into vernon’s back and he knew in that moment that he was absolutely in love with his BF
after like 10mins of just staying like that vernon calms down and BF sits him down for a serious talk about the issue and after that vernon’s feeling better ‘cause he found out how BF sees the situation and is amazed at how mature BF’s opinions on it were ‘’and wow i love you’‘
.....
ok domestic daily!vernon x bf
i can really imagine them sitting on the couch late at night, playing games both tired af and knowing they’ll regret staying up in the morning
but will they stop?
god no!
like at 2am they’re in the middle of a heated game (not that you perv) and if you didn’t know the truth ( that they’re soft BFs ) you would think they hate eachother because the amount of cursing and screaming at eachother
which is ofcourse not coming from the heart like they could never actually say that to eachother and mean it, god no
.....
ok Engrish speakeu! BF
If BF spoke english it would be 10000x better cause they would scream at eachother in english
and they both know joshua would kill them if he heard
but since joshua wasn’t there, they don’T CARE
...
but what if joshua is present?
god bless their souls and help them
ok jokes aside, imagine them being really close (especially if BF is a foreigner) and having a lot of english conversations which are just confusing for the rest of seventeen
but otherwise vernon knows the second 95′ line the rest of 17 find out he’s dating, the teasing won’t stop
and i can actually imagine 95′ line sitting him down like boi what are your intentions with our son *serious dads and mom* and BF would honestly be scared af probs cuz idk who’d be scarier of the three
...
ok Jealous!Vernon
it was a free night for 17 so they went for drinks in a karaoke
and ofc the underage members weren’t allowed to drink
so vernon got really upsettii spagetti when the other memebrs - including BF - got drunk
like how did joshua even get drunk would 4ever be a mystery to everyone
but basically Joshua and BF would be lowkey (read as: ‘‘highkey’‘) drunk and unintentionally very touchy with eachother
like
the karaoke is a small room
how dafuq did 17 expect to fit in 14 people
esp w/ dk and mingyu who are just taking up alot of space with their height???
but anyway back to the point
vernon saw all the BF on Joshua (or switched, whichever you like ;) ) action and he wasn’t impressed
and he was starting to get mad cuz he was bored and all the underage members were bored
and while joshua and BF sang together horribly vernon started pulling BF to sit next to him but bf was like noO I WANNA DANCE, U WAnNA DANcE? I WANNA DanCE! LOOK JoSH IS DANCING, IMMA GON’ DANCE W HIM YESSS
and as i said before, the room was packed af
like your private space was also the next person’s private space
so BF was basically grinding on fusing with joshua with how literally close they were
....
and i think we all know how the night ended
... vernon had to drag BF’s drunk ass home , thats what happened but BF was ofcourse being an annoying drunk like noO I WANNA GET TURN! IM GONNA GET SO TURNT! U WANNA GET TURNT? LEZZZGET TURNTTT!!!!!!111!!1100!
like there’s no help for that
vernon was literally praying that a car doesn’t hit them as he dragged BF home
and the legend says that BF slept on a couch for the first time in their relationship that day
....
...
..
OK THAT’S IT! I originally wrote this for my best friend, but i decided i loved this too much to not post to tumblr so this happened!
And like i knew this was quite a series but i didn’t know it’d be this long! [thats what she/he said ;) ]
ALSO!!! Sorry for any typos, i didn’t proof read as this was rushed :( [EDIT: I proof read it and got rid of any typos i noticed, but i might have missed some]
Ok but for reals, thanks for reading if you did! If you enjoyed it feel free to request (if requests are open) ! :)
Ty again!
~Aven
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magicrobins · 6 years ago
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Favorite Passage Meme
I was tagged by @thereluctantinquisitor​ to share my favorite passage of something I’ve written (thank you, I always appreciate being tagged <3)! I’ll tag @bxtgrl​ and @nutellanewt​. ;3
This passage is from an original book project, I call it my Darkest Hearts WIP atm. It’s from chapter one of book one. You can find it under the cut ‘cause it’s a lil’ long LOL
It was simple, how it happened. There wasn’t anything that had provoked him. He hadn’t been trying to summon it. His father had merely been distracted and thrown the ball too wide. He’d still attempted to catch it but lost his footing and stumbled.
“Taylor!” he’d heard his father call out once the man had noticed. His parents had the annoying habit of thinking their children were more fragile than they actually were. Jessica had never seemed to mind that, though.
In a matter of seconds, he’d managed to catch himself with his hands, preventing what he’d suspected would have been an embarrassing face-plant into the grass. As he’d fallen, though, he’d felt rather than saw his aura flare up instinctively to protect him. He’d felt the warmth of it spread to his hands and then escape into the grass upon contact.
The ball lay forgotten on the grass mere inches from him. All he could do was stare at the grass, watching it wither and die. Somehow he just knew he had caused it. He lifted his hands and saw the pale red smoke of his aura life out of the ground as he did so, soon dissipating from sight. He stared at his hands. They felt foreign, cold suddenly. Though nothing about them had changed, he no longer recognized them - the lines etched into them, the way they moved when his brain told them too; it all felt as if they belonged to someone else. They certainly weren’t the hands of a magician.
He shakily got to his feet. He needed to speak with his parents. He needed to make sure they had seen what had happened. He needed to make sure he hadn’t imagined that. He needed them to tell him everything was okay.
He turned around slowly, unable to bring himself to move any faster. The grass had died in a perfect circle, fanning out from where he stood. He suspected the death had stopped spreading the moment he’d lifted his hands up.
The first thing he saw when he looked up was Jessica, though she still stood by the large oak tree her mother had been sitting with her at. His eyes had always sought his sister out first, ever since she’d entered his life. He’d never been sure if it was out of sibling solidarity - they understood each other far better than their parents ever would - or a sense of protectiveness. Perhaps it was both.
Now she stared at him with what he recognized as curiosity. But their mother was no longer by her side. His gaze drifted and he found her with their father. One hand covered her mouth, eyes wide, her other hand desperately clinging to their father’s sleeve.
Neither of them were looking at him like Jessica. Curiosity wasn’t what stared back at him.
He remembered when he’d come out to his parents. Like majority of the kingdoms on Alius, Coven was more accepting than what he’d heard about the countries and societies on Earth. But he’d still been petrified. He’d been absolutely certain his parents would accept him but a voice in his head had whispered, clawing its way out from the back of his mind.
What if you’re wrong?
He hadn’t been wrong.
But sexuality was very different from magic. And discrimination could still be found in the kingdoms of Alius.
Now when he’d thought his parents would look at him with acceptance, shock, or at the very least sympathy, all he saw was fear in his mother’s eyes. In his father’s…
“Mortem.” Disgust laced Jason Darkheart’s voice as it filled his gaze.
Taylor felt himself flinch at the word. Mortem.
Necromancy.
He’d learned in school that death magic, or mortem, along with a few others, had been forbidden by the High Court of Magic many years ago. Anyone who practiced a forbidden magic was classified as a warlock. It was up to individual kingdoms or countries what to do with their warlocks. He’d heard that Earth was the most lenient planet when it came to warlocks overall. Some kingdoms of Alius accepted warlocks without question, but their numbers were few. Majority viewed them with disdain. They weren’t allowed to join the High Court. Coven had outlawed them entirely.
He couldn’t remember ever learning what happened to warlocks in Coven. No one spoke about it.
“Dad…?” His voice sounded small even to him. He took a step forward and watched as both of his parents took a step back. He felt his breath catch in his throat, a silent gasp of pain that his body didn’t want to release. His body didn’t want to admit to him that what was happening was real.
Jessica was the only one who took any steps forward. Her curiosity had turned into confusion as she looked from Taylor to their parents then back to Taylor. She tried to walk past their parents to her brother, but their mother gasped in what sounded like horror that broke Taylor’s heart and snatched Jessica into her arms.
“Dad?” Taylor strained, “Mom?” He took another step forward and they took two more back.
Jason Darkheart never took his eyes off his son, but he spoke firmly to his wife and his words brought Taylor more fear than comfort. “Notify the Council.”
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whatthefuckistevvs · 8 years ago
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Chapters: 14/? Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes & Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge Characters: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes Additional Tags: Junkenstein AU, surgeries, Tags to be added as I go, Slow Burn, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Gore, Smut, Gentle Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Stomach Bulge, Overstimulation, Size Difference, Creampie, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Dismemberment, Gutting, Disemboweling, thigh fucking, Frottage, handjobs, Torture, Nightmares, Burning, Abuse, Public Humilliation, Near Death Experiences, Degutting, Poisoning, Stabbing, eye gore, Eye Trauma, Decapitation, Nasty Decapitation, NO PROOFREADERS WE TYPO LIKE MEN, aka: my proof reader is asleep and i can't wait cus im impatient Summary:
He was a genius damn it, and he would make sure his genius would be recognized.
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HELLO! Sorry this took a bit longer to write- this past few days have been an emotional wreck (you can pretty much guess why ahaha). Not to mention, this was quite a lengthy chapter to write! But it is done.
This is, technically, the final chapter. The last thing will be an epilogue that I'll be posting next week, probs. Thank you so much for reading this, for bookmarking it, for commenting, for your kudos- you guys make writing so fun ;_;
I want to make people forget about how shitty the world is for a second, i want people to forget about everything for a couple of minutes a day. if this is the way to do it, if i manage to make someone smile for a while and forget how fucked up everything is- then, I'm okay.
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you like it! It's this and the epilogue later, baby!
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