#sorry for not posting as often as i wish did. been fighting depression (no worries. im a seasoned fighter) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matbarzyy · 4 years ago

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Brave [A.B.]

A/N: This is a very self indulgent piece I’m really not sure I should be posting. I’ve had a weird few days and this came out of it. If depression is triggering to you, please don’t read this. It’s basically just Tito picking the reader up on a really bad day. I know I need it sometimes, so as much as I thought I should keep this to myself I figured one of you might need it too.

Word count: 4495

Warnings: severe depression

“Hi,” Anthony greeted you when you picked up the phone, heading to his car. “How are you?” He asked the question every single time he saw you or got you on the phone, which you used to think was just out of politeness, but he nagged you whenever you dodged answering. He genuinely cared and he made sure to ask everyone he loved how they were doing regularly.

“I’m okay, you?” You hoped the short answer would suffice him, because you didn’t have much energy to elaborate further than that. Your eyes were barely open, but even when they were all you could see was your bedroom ceiling or the mess that you had made of the place.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” He sat in the driver’s seat of his car, buckling his seatbelt. “I’m headed to the gym and then I’ll train for a while, do you want me to come over later tonight? Cuddles and a movie?” He made the offer he had never heard you say no to. He hadn’t seen you in a few days and he was dying to hold you and nuzzle his face in your neck to hear you giggle because he was tickling you.

“Oh, um,” You cleared your throat because you felt like your voice was giving up on you. He sounded so excited, but you just couldn’t say yes. There was no way you could make your place look even half decent by tonight, and you didn’t want him to see it (or you) like this.

“Are you crying?” Tito stopped everything he was doing, worrying his lower lip between his teeth at the sudden shift of mood. He should have picked up on it when you barely said anything when you answered the phone.

“No, no I’m fine,” You lied, trying to keep your voice sounding as normal as possible. It was hard with your nose blocked and your chest shaking as loud sobs threatened to fall from your lips soon. “I’m not sure tonight is the best night for plans though, what about tomorrow?” You tried to get the idea out of his head and remake the plans for some other time as fast as possible, you wouldn’t last long on the phone with him without crying.

“Yeah, tomorrow works. Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again for good measure, a frown settling on his face.

“Of course, don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you later?” Your cheerfulness sounded fake but you couldn’t bring yourself to give him more than that.

Something didn’t sit right with Anthony. Even after you hung up he replayed your words in his head. You were definitely crying, and he couldn’t just leave you like that, even if you had asked him not to come over tonight. He knew you needed your alone time, but he hadn’t seen you in a few days and if you weren’t okay he didn’t want you to feel lonely. You tended to have a bit of an attitude and you’d have no trouble letting him know he wasn’t wanted if you were busy and didn’t want him over, in which case he’d just go to the gym.

He couldn’t leave you without checking, so he took another turn and found himself on his way to your place. The key to your apartment was attached right next to his so that he’d never lose it, and he was thankful you trusted him to have it. He never used it much, but he couldn’t stand it when you cried (and god forbid he was ever the reason for it, because the first time you two had a fight he apologised so much he ended up crying more than you).

“Hello?” Anthony called out to make himself known as he walked into the apartment and made sure to lock the door behind himself. The living room was messier than you ever let him see it. None of your blankets were folded, and some clothes littered the floor by the couch. Even your shoes were in the way, something he couldn’t understand because you were always so adamant in putting them away as soon as you walked in. “Hey,” He found you the second he stepped into your bedroom, your body curled up under the blankets.

“What are you doing here?” You had heard him unlock the door and tried to pull yourself together, but your hair was still a mess and you couldn’t get yourself out of bed fast enough anyway.

“You didn’t sound okay on the phone,” He glanced towards the window for a second. The curtains weren’t letting much light in, and your room smelled a little stuffy, like you hadn’t opened the window or even your door all day.

“But… I thought you said you were going to the gym and that you wanted to train?” You tried to adjust the covers on your bed, but even the sweater you were wearing was twisted around your body. Tito could see you were a mess and it made you feel even worse. You had been so good at hiding it up until now, he had never seen you like this.

“The gym will be there for me to go to tomorrow, you need me right now and you’re always going to be my priority,” He took in everything around him. Some more clothes were scattered over the floor, an empty glass of water was sitting on the nightstand with a cereal bar wrapper, and more of those could be found on your carpet. It wasn’t hard to guess you hadn’t moved for hours, or even the whole day.

“I’m okay,” You swallowed heavily, a guilty feeling taking over the pit of your stomach. You didn’t like it when guests came in and you didn’t have time to clean, you needed the place to be spotless so that they couldn’t judge how lazy you were.

“Don’t lie to me,” His voice was soft as he crouched by the bed, ignoring everything around him to focus on your first. “I can tell you’ve been crying,” He went to cup your cheek, and you let him for a second before turning your face back into your pillow.

Your body shook with a silent sob while his hand fell off. He felt so helpless, watching you like this without knowing how to help you. Seeing you cry always hurt him, but the way you were right now shattered his heart. He didn’t really know what was wrong, and he had no clue of when you had started feeling bad enough for you to end up like this.

“It’ll be okay,” He settled for whispering soothing words, not sure if touching you would help or make it worse. He knew from a few texts and conversations that you had days like these, but he had never been there to help you through them. You had definitely downplayed it whenever you told him about it. “Baby, please look at me,”

“I’m sorry,” Your voice came out broken and quiet as you slowly turned your head, red swollen eyes staring into his bright blue ones.

“Don’t apologise,” He settled for taking your hand in his and rubbing the back of it gently with his thumb. “You don’t have to, I just want to help, okay?”

“I’m tired,” You whispered, your whole body so slumped you couldn’t even move your hand in his.

“Did you eat today?” He asked, and the shrug you gave him (which was so small he wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t so attentive) was enough of an answer.

“Kind of,” You didn’t want him to know you hadn’t touched food in hours. You didn’t want any.

“If I made you a sandwich right now, would you eat it?” He checked hopefully, you usually loved his grilled cheese, and you often praised him because he always managed to make a sandwich taste good no matter what was left in your fridge. He tried not to sigh in defeat when you shook your head, doing his best to keep his mood up for you. “Okay,” He pushed himself back to his feet, his hand falling from yours as he went for the door.

Your brain screamed at you that this was it. Tito was a patient man but there was only so much he could take when you were emotionally unavailable. You couldn’t even hold a simple conversation. You ruined it. You were worthless, and now that Anthony was seeing it too he was about to leave you.

“Please don’t leave me,” You croaked out, weakly reaching after him in a moment of panic.

“What are you talking about?” He turned around and grasped your hand in his. “I’m never going to leave you,” He fell back to his knees by your side, reaching over to hug you. “I promise, I’m always going to be there for you,”

“I don’t want to be alone,” You rested your forehead against his shoulder, unable to bring yourself to wrap your arms around him.

“I’m here baby, I’m right here with you,” Anthony brushed your hair back and kept saying reassuring words to you, repeating them until he was sure you wouldn’t be able to doubt how much he meant them. “I’m not leaving, I love you.”

He slid into the bed with you, kicking his socks off his feet before pulling you against his chest tightly. His shirt was wet with your tears, and he clenched his jaw to hold back his own every time your sobs made your body jolt against his. He could never leave you. He couldn’t even bring himself to consider it for a second. He was more in love with you than he ever thought he would be and he knew he’d be by your side through absolutely anything.

You had been there for him on countless nights after games the team lost, or games where he beat himself up for not playing well enough because they scraped the win and if he didn’t mess up this or that earlier in the game everything would have been fine. You always lifted his mood, you pulled him out of his thoughts and he couldn’t help how much he smiled whenever you were with him.

He couldn’t express how much he wished he could put a smile back on your face right this second, but this wasn’t just disappointment over a game or a project. It was a deep rooted issues and an accumulation of stress he couldn’t even imagine himself dealing with. It was no wonder you had to crash at some point, but he wished he had caught onto the signs earlier to help you before you hit rock bottom.

“Is it okay if I get up for a minute?” He eventually murmured.

You had stopped crying, and your breathing was steady. You had even gone as far as placing a small kiss on his chest where your face was tucked.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” You let him pull away, coughing a little to clear your throat. You felt pathetic for keeping him there for so long just because you were too insecure to let him get to the living room without crying about him leaving you.

“I’ll be right back,” He promised as he rolled out of the bed.

When he walked back into your room, he was holding a bottle of your favorite smoothie. You liked to make them yourself, but when you couldn’t this was always your go to. Tito picked it up before coming in hope it would cheer you up a little if you were having a bad day. Now that he saw you were doing much worse than he had imagined, he hoped it would at least motivate you to put something in your stomach.

“I stopped by the store on my way here,” He explained to you when he noticed your questioning eyes. “Drink it for me?”

You pushed yourself to sit up, your stomach in knots. You weren’t hungry, but you could try for him. You took the open bottle from his hands and forced yourself to take a few sips. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting and hoping the sugar would make you feel a little better, at least physically.

You handed him the bottle back soon after, most of the smoothie left untouched. He was about to say something, ask you to drink a little bit more, but you beat him to it.

“I’m really not hungry,” You gathered your pillow to your chest, slowly sliding back into the bed.

“That’s okay,” Anthony didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t make your own decisions. He didn’t know what you needed, he was just guessing. “Is there anything I can do?” He eventually asked.

“I don’t know why I feel like this,” You were exhausted physically and mentally, and even just speaking to him was draining in that moment. You only wanted to lay in your bed and cry until the pain stopped.

“You don’t have to explain,” He got comfortable on the bed too, sitting with his back against the headboard. “You’ll get through it, and I’ll be there for you in any way I can,”

“Thank you for coming over,” You crawled over to put your pillow in his lap and rest your head there.

“Always,” He placed his lips on your forehead and closed his eyes. “Do you want to just lay in bed for a while?”

“I don’t want to do anything,” You whispered, feeling him pull the covers tighter on your shoulders. “But then I think too much,”

“Okay, we can put some music on?” He tried to find a way to distract you from your thoughts. “Or I can read to you for a while,” Books on the shelves about your desk caught his attention. You had mentioned you couldn’t find time to read lately, and he wondered if you’d be up for it now.

“What book?” You turned your head to look up at him. It wasn’t much, but the small gleam in your eyes told him he took a step in the right direction.

“You can pick, or I’ll just grab anything that sounds good,” He suggested, leaving it open for you, and you lifted your head as you answered.

“I don’t mind any,” You let him slide out of the bed and quickly inspect the covers to make a choice.

A few seconds later he had resumed his original position and his knuckles gently ran over your cheek while his voice filled the room. He liked to think he was a decent reader. He wasn’t the best out there, but he didn’t really stammer on words and he kept a good rhythm to keep you interested in what he was saying.

What he didn’t know was that you couldn’t focus enough on the words to understand anything he said anyway. You didn’t mind, there was no need for you to understand, this was just filling the silence and the fact that he was there, taking care of you and reading to you, made your heart swell. You were terrified he’d leave, that he’d see how much of a mess you were and tell you he didn’t want to deal with that, yet here he was.

He spent ages repeating that he loved you to reassure you, he made sure you ate something, and he tried his best to ease your mind. You felt numb all over, everything was bland around you, but the one thing you still knew was that you were in love with Anthony. You could doubt how much you cared about your job, or even your own self. You could doubt your friendships and some family relationships, but you couldn’t doubt that you adored the man currently sitting on your bed, and you couldn’t doubt that he cared about you too.

He didn’t stop reading until he was absolutely sure you were asleep. His voice felt a little hoarse by that point, and he closed the book to place it on your nightstand, making sure not to wake you as he grabbed his phone.

“What are you doing?” You blinked your eyes open when you heard him move around your room. The bed was cold apart from where you were laying, so you knew he must have been up for a while.

“I’m just cleaning a little,” He put the shirt he was holding over the back of your chair.

“I can do it, I’m sorry it’s such a mess,” You sat up, immediately worrying about the state of your apartment. You knew it was a wreck, and you hated that he had to deal with it.

“No, no baby,” He shook his head and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “The kitchen, living room and bathroom are all tidy. I’m just going to fold your clothes and pick up whatever else is on the floor right now, and then I’ll hoover, okay?”

He wasn’t sure of what to do to help, but after a few minutes of research on his phone as you slept, he found a post saying cleaning your room for you or cooking would be a good idea. Since he was awful in the kitchen he settled for cleaning the entire apartment.

“You don’t have to do that, let me help you,” You protested, feeling lazy and useless while he did everything for you. It wasn’t fair to him. Your heart rate picked up, but Tito was quick to soothe you.

“If you want to get out of bed and do something, that’s great, but we’ll go for a walk or something, leave that up to me, please,” He kissed the top of your head. “I’m just hoping you’ll feel a little better once you don’t have to worry about taking care of your place,”

Tears welled up in your eyes from his words. Your forehead fell to his shoulder as you shut them tightly, trying to get control back over your body.

“Fuck,” You choked out, your chest shaking with a sob again.

All you did was cry today. Tito didn’t feel as panicked this time, slowly understanding how you were dealing with everything. You were just overwhelmed, and while hated to see you cry he knew that it was because he made you feel cared for.

“You’re going to have to start your own water bottle company soon with all those tears,” He tentatively cracked a joke.

He wasn’t sure if the sound that followed was just a louder sob or a real chuckle, but he took it as a good sign when you wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed him against you. It was better than the apathy you had shown when he held you earlier, so he returned the embrace and kissed your temple.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise,” He whispered soothingly when you pulled away, giving him a small nod while you rubbed the tears off your cheeks.

“I feel all gross,” You adjusted your sweater and sniffled. Your eyes were swollen from you trying to dry your tears when they wouldn’t stop falling, and you desperately needed to splash fresh water on your face.

“Do you want to take a shower or bath?” Tito asked you so that he could get the water running and make sure it was warm for when you got in.

“Shower,” You didn’t hesitate. You’d feel sluggish in a bath, it would make you more tired.

“Want me to come with and wash your hair?” He was almost sure you would, but he asked just to make sure. You weren’t the way you usually were, so you might have changed your mind.

“Yes please,” You nodded, taking his hand as you followed him to your bathroom.

Like he had said, everything was tidy. A new small towel was hanging by the sink, and all the other clean ones were neatly folded and organised underneath it. You picked up the faint smell of your cleaning products that he used to wipe every surface and make everything shiny. He really went all the way, and you could only guess he did the same thing in the kitchen.

You stripped while he started the water, his clothes on the floor next to yours. You still felt self conscious of your state, but in months of relationship Tito had done nothing but love every inch of your body, so you didn’t overthink it as you stepped into the shower after him.

“I don’t always understand how you feel, but I know it’s hard for you,” He gave your hand a squeeze as you made it under the stream of water. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m babying you, but it’s okay if you can’t bring yourself to do anything right now, I’ll take care of you,”

“I need that,” You nodded, resting your forehead on his chest as you let your hair get wet. It was hard to admit it to yourself, and even harder to say out loud. You thought you’d break down and cry again for a moment, but it seemed that all the tears had left your body already.

“I’ll help with absolutely anything you need me to,” Tito promised and adjusted the temperature to something a little bit hotter. “Let’s sit down, yeah?” He let you go first and then took his place behind you, shampoo and shower gel right by him. “Tilt your head back,” He asked as he poured the product into his hand.

You relaxed a little as he massaged your scalp, helping you disconnect from the rest of the world for a minute or two. The scent of soap slowly replaced the stuffy and slightly sweaty smell you had been living in for the past two days. You were still a mess of a person, but you could at least consider yourself half presentable after that.

How you felt on the inside almost always sucked, but you tried your hardest to keep up with appearances. It wasn’t even so that other people wouldn’t know, it was only for yourself, so that you could look in the mirror and think you were doing okay. It made it easier to convince yourself things were fine.

You didn’t spend too much time in the shower once Tito was done helping you wash your hair and body. He even got a smile out of you when his hands accidentally tickled your waist, and he beamed in response.

His smile lit your whole world up.

You held your towel tight around you when you got out, letting Tito get back to your room first. He came back in shorts he kept in your closet and one of the t-shirts you had stolen from him.

“Here,” Anthony handed you another one of his t-shirts (you had quite the collection) and some comfortable underwear he had picked out for you.

He was glad to find you brushing your hair and patting it with a towel as you stood in front of your mirror a few minutes later. At least you weren’t in bed anymore, and his heart soared when you gave him a small smile as you caught him staring at your reflection.

Instead of standing there like a moron, he decided to make himself useful and started pulling the sheets off your bed, piling them on the floor. You handed him some fresh ones from your closet as a replacement, your hair in a wet messy bun at the back of your head while you helped him adjust the fitted sheet over the mattress. You sat and began shoving your pillow into a pillowcase, and Tito didn’t argue with you helping him this time. He took the dirty laundry to your washing machine to make sure that by the time he left for practice tomorrow morning the apartment was spotless and you didn’t have to do a thing besides take care of yourself.

You made your bed and resisted the urge to get right back in it now that it smelled so lovely. You had to fight with yourself to get out of your room, so you opted for crashing on the couch in the living room instead. All of your blankets were neatly piled and you could see the plant on your coffee table had been watered. The dirty plates had been taken away to the kitchen, and everything was in place.

“I’m going to order some food,” Tito came to sit next to you a few minutes later. He handed you his phone as he added, “Pick anything you want.”

“I’m not that hungry,” You scrolled aimlessly, looking up at him because you didn’t want to have to get anything.

“Pick.” He gave you a stern look that left no room for discussion. “I’m not going to make you eat it all, but I’m not letting you go to sleep on a empty stomach tonight,” He had a feeling you had done it the previous night already, and it wasn’t going to happen again on his watch.

You eventually settled for a burger and decided you could just pick at the chips. Tito seemed satisfied with what you added to the cart and picked his own food before also ordering ice cream. It was one of your favorite flavours, so even if you didn’t want it tonight he was sure you’d be happy to have it in your freezer one of these days.

“Cuddles and a movie?” The corners of your lips lifted slightly as you suggested the plans he had been wanting to make with you for tonight.

“Sure,” He chuckled, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. “Anything you want to watch?”

“Just want to cuddle,”

“Okay,” He opened Netflix and clicked on Brooklyn nine-nine to pick it up wherever you had left it last time. It was unarguably one of the best shows out there according to both of you, so it would be good to watch it again and he also wouldn’t mind if he missed bits and pieces of it.

Tito leaned back on the couch and spread his legs, patting his body to invite you to lay on him.

“Thank you for being patient,” You whispered as you settled yourself on his chest. “I love you,”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Tito rested a hand on your back and slowly traced lines up and down your spine. Tonight was all about taking care of you and he knew you loved it when he did that, so he’d do it until his arm cramped up if he had to. He even let your hair soak his shirt without a complaint despite how much he always hated the feeling. “Whatever’s going on with you, I’ll be there to help you through it, always.”

Please reblog and share some thoughts <3

Also wanted to add a little note here:

I know this made it look like the reader is quite dependent on Tito, and that’s always pretty toxic in a relationship. I didn’t mean to make it look like that, but I also don’t feel like rewriting the fic differently. I feel like that on some days, and while I can pull myself out of it alone (mostly because I have to) I know there’s some things that could help me. Cleaning my room feels impossible right now and if someone did that right now it would ease my mind a lot, so that’s why I pictured things that way in the fic.

#tw #tw: depression #tw: depressive episode #tw: depressive thoughts #anthony beauviller #writing #nhl fic #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier imagine #tito beauvillier fic #tito beauvillier imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #new york islanders #islanders #tito

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therenlover · 4 years ago

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Five More Minutes (aka A Ten Minute Break with Imaginary Zemo)

(So uh, this is a weird little writing project I did. It’s kinda experimental and a deep dive into my messy little brain, so that’s that. I hope you guys like it, because it was just a warm up, but I decided to post it cause it didn’t turn out half bad. Sorry that it’s uber specific to me, lol)

Synopsis: A writer imagines her muse as she struggles through anxieties and self loathing. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend you’re being cared for than it is to care for yourself.

Rating: T

Warnings; Swearing maybe? Vague references to depression and general trauma

Word Count: 2000~

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Zemo walks through the door while I’m taking a break.

He’s soft around the edges, watching me with a gaze that seems intent on telling me he doesn’t approve of whatever it is I had done this time. I simply regard him with a quiet nod and let my eyes drift closed once again. The bed is warm below me but a cool spring rain pours down heavy and hard outside the open window. I like to write with the breeze flowing. It helps me focus on more than wanting to sleep. This is a break, though; a small allowance of time where I can fold my hands behind my head and relax without worrying about my next deadline. I stretch my legs out further, recumbent, as he sits at the end of the bed.

“Look who decided to come back home,” I taunt him, “How long has it been? A week? Two?” The bitterness is a farce, a facade I put up more for my own benefit than his.

Helmut sighs before he replies, “I shall always return when you call me, Schatz,”

“It doesn’t feel like you will.”

“Despite that, it is true,” Slowly, from behind the darkness of my still-closed eyes, I hear the soft clink of china. Interesting… I let one eye open just a sliver to peer down the bed. Helmut is sitting there, eyes full of that special adoration he holds just for me, and in his outstretched hand, he holds a steaming cup of tea. Hedging my bets, I begrudgingly set my laptop aside and reach down to take it from him. Something is better than nothing and I haven’t had water in hours, maybe days. He knows that all too well. Why else would he have brought tea?

The first sip is taken silently while Zemo simply gauges my reaction to his presence. He and I both know that I can be… picky when it comes to his affections. If they come at the wrong time I am almost certain to deny him. This time, though, he arrived at a just-right place between sleep and work that allows me to give in to his endless and thorough affections. The tea is warm and sweet, and I finish the cup less than a minute after he handed it to me.

That makes him smile. It’s infectious. Less than a minute later I’m smiling with him. In a simple moment, all the ice that had built on my heart in the wake of his absence had melted. All it took was some good tea and his presence, strong and constant at my side, to ease the discomfort from weeks apart.

Helmut is the one to break the silence.

“Did you get my gift a few nights ago?”

I nod, sitting up a bit to scoot to the end of the bed. “You were the one who dropped off dinner?”

“Of course it was. I’m here to aid you, my love,” for an instant he pauses, something akin to jealousy flashing across his face, “I may be… absent sometimes, but no one else here can help you the way I do. I don’t really see why you keep them around, quite honestly. Most of them are selfish pri-”

“Helmut,” I warn him, and he backs off. He always does if I ask him to. His loyalties lie firmly in my comfort and my comfort alone.

“The point is, you are mine and mine alone to care for. If not always, then when I can,”

“Well, I appreciate it,”

A practiced hand makes its way to my bare knee, exposed by my shorts. I don’t complain. Helmut is here to help, and if rubbing away the aches caused by the rain is what he wants to do, I have no objection. His digits massage it with care. The constant steady pressure is grounding. To ease the process I beckon Helmut further up onto the bed. In just a moment of shuffling, I find myself between his legs with my back to his chest as he restarts his gentle probing of my knee. I let my head rest against him and just breathe. There’s a peace to it.

Neither of us feels the need to move.

Somewhere outside the room, we can hear Andrea begin to practice his violin. The sweet sounds are more relaxing to me than they are to Helmut, who hates the reminder of his housemates, but he can’t deny that the boy plays well. He would like to think, though, that he plays better. I don’t pick favorites, but it’s one battle that I wouldn’t want to miss, should things come down to it.

We stay like that for a while, him massaging my aching joints while I use his broad, soft chest as a pillow, but eventually, he speaks again. We both know what’s coming. I’m just not quite ready to acknowledge it yet. He always broaches the subject when it’s time.

He knows I couldn’t do it if I tried.

“You’re pushing me out again,” his voice is a low hum, “why must you always push me out just when I’ve gotten close to you?” He presses soft kisses to my hair as I sigh. It’s my turn for words but I know I can’t say them. Not to him and not to anyone else. Instead, I let myself turn cold again.

“Maybe if you were more useful, I’d keep you around more often. Besides, you’re a grown man. You can come and go as you please. If you wanted to stay, you would,”

“We both know that’s not true,”

Helmut’s right. He always is. That doesn’t mean I ever listen to him, but when he softly coos in my ear about eating or resting he’s always right, I always need it. Sometimes I think it would be better if I gave in. I never do though, it’s not worth the fallout that would follow.

Still, I let myself get a bit closer to giving in this time. Just close enough that I won’t feel so raw once he’s gone again. A modicum of extra comfort can be allowed from time to time if used sparingly, and I take the word sparingly very seriously.

“Five more minutes,” I whisper into his warm skin, “Please, I just want five more minutes,” It’s not a question, it’s a plea, and not to him. No, it’s a plea to the universe, to the cruel god that separates us…

To myself.

Helmut removes his hand from its place rubbing out the aches in my wrists and lets his arms wrap around me, encasing me in his warmth and holding me tight to his body. He’s warm. So, so warm against the frosty chill of my own skin.

“Of course, Schatz. I will always have five more minutes for you,”

If Helmut had his way, he’d have every minute of my day. He doesn’t, though. He can’t. Five extra will just have to do until he finds a way to creep back through my door and into my good graces. Then we will have five more minutes again and again until there’s nothing left of us and no more minutes left to spend. Until then, the game goes on.

Outside, the rain pick’s up its pitter-pattering into a full downpour.

The water comes in through the opened window, but neither of us moves to close it. Water damage doesn’t matter where we are anyway. Especially not when the timer is ticking down.

I cry when I croak out words again.

“I don’t understand why I can’t let you stay,” I say, throat dry with angry tears, “I don’t understand why I do this to myself,”

It’s a lie, we both know exactly why I push him away, but Helmut bites his tongue. We don’t speak of those things, the things that creep deep in my mind and pull the strings of my marionette. That’s not his job. Part of me wishes it was.

Instead of trying to explain away my reasons for doing what I do, though, Helmut simply holds me tighter. “Someday, you won’t have to. You will be happy, Schatz; happy and free to rest whenever you feel the need to. I may not be here to see it, but it will happen, and when it does you’ll know just how proud I am of you,”

“You promise?”

“I promise,”

His heart thuds heavy under my ear, his weight a constant against my shoulders. If I close my eyes tight enough I can hear him humming a tune. The clock ticks down the seconds till his departure. I cling to him for every last second that I can.

“Should I send someone else in when I leave?” He asks softly.

I shake my head no.

“Not even Laszlo?”

“Not even Laszlo,” I sigh. What I don’t say is that the pain of his absence will numb me of everything once he’s gone. What he doesn’t need to know can’t hurt him. Instead, I offer up some half-assed explanation from nowhere, just to make myself feel better about the lie. “He only helps me write the academic stuff. Fiction isn’t his wheelhouse,”

“Ah,” Helmut whispers, and as he does I can feel him start to shift away. Five minutes always pass too fast in the arms of a lover. I wipe my tears as he collects my teacup. “When will you call me back to you,”

“Soon, I hope,”

“But when?”

He asks not for himself, but for me, because he knows what happens when I don’t call him back to me. He’s seen it in the circles rimming my eyes and the ribs that jut painfully from my skin and most of all in the wheezing coughs and winces that escape my lips when I breathe too deep. It’s my choice to make, though, and mine alone.

I hate that I can’t give him a straight answer.

“Maybe tonight, if I’m lucky, you can come in and hold me while I sleep,” It’s an empty promise, just short of a lie. It doesn’t matter though. It’s as close to the truth as I can bear to acknowledge for myself when my eyelids droop lower by the second. Unfortunately, I probably won’t sleep at all.

“No dinner?” There’s no disappointment in Helmut’s voice, but I wish there was. Instead I’m met with acceptance. he knows me well enough that there is no fighting my self destruction, only easing it.

“I’m too behind,” I explain, “It would take too much time. This break was already pushing it. I have three fics to finish by Friday and if I don’t…” The consequence went unsaid.

Helmut nods, stoic. “I shall see you again when you call on me next, Schatz,”

With that, he’s gone again and I’m alone. The chill from the rain sinks deep in my bones as I scrub the remaining tears and sleep from my eyes before grabbing my laptop again. Maybe if I worked a little harder, I could manage to sleep through the night or eat a whole meal. Helmut would be back then, as real as I could will him to be, to serve as a reminder and a companion through it all.

The words on the screen seem like a foreign language. Sleep that has evaded me for days threatens to creep into my mind but I shove it out forcefully and turn up the brightness. Sleep won’t help me now, not with the aching in my heart that screams at the slightest bit of rest. The ache doesn’t have a name like the self care does, or the softness or the anger or the book-smarts. The ache is just me.

The rest are too, but less so. They’re easier to accept that way.

I push on.

Just a little more work… just a couple more tens of thousands of words…

Alone again and wetted by rain and tears, I weep and write.

------

a/n: Basically, Helmut is a personification of my ability to care for myself. I always want to, and I resent myself for not doing it more, but I just... can’t. Andrea and Laszlo are both also technically representative of feelings in my brain, but those feelings aren’t specified here. I hope you enjoyed that weird little ramble, though! It was nice to deep dive into my brain in a weird way and do some good, old fashioned therapy writing. I’m a slut for a good extended metaphor.

#jac rambles #jac talks about zemo #I don't blame you if you don't read this #technically its a reader insert I guess #even if its an uber specific one

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standarrow · 4 years ago

Text

abbacchio essay under the cut because he’s so important to me (god this is so long im sorry i have adhd i hope this is readable<3)

tl;dr being on how i think he healed and handled up until part 5 :”) + thoughts on his relationship to the team

tw!!! for all of the usual things that pertain to his backstory including: [death, alcohol abuse, police, ptsd/depression, etc]

i may be projecting<3 its fine

to start:

im not a fan of the way a lot of people handle handle abbas trauma and illness. the "entering a relationship fixes your problems<3" shit. or the romanticization of depression...i see both a lot, along with utilizing his substance issues as like a catalyst. i dont have to say why that shit isnt ok or healthy.

getting into it (because i want it to be this deep):

there is ... a lot of guilt that he shoulders around the death of his partner. someone he was friends with (and relied on him as a literal partner) died because He fucked up. that person wanted to protect him and died selflessly while he'd broken his own morals and he feels like it should have been him to pay for it.

but he wasnt. and now he suddenly has two mistakes and blood on his hands. getting fired doesnt even Begin to fix that, so he withdraws because he cant trust himself, cant trust the institution he was already disillusioned from, and imo hes angry that he didnt get punished worse for his own crimes (but cops always get off easy)

bruno finds him in the worst place of his life and gives him a chance to put schedule in his life, to protect even if its not in the way he originally thought he would. he still doesnt trust himself, i do not think he takes to working with a partner easily (what if he fucks up again. he'll get bruno/narancia/fugo killed.) and i think that reflects in why moody blues isnt meant for combat. combat = danger.

obligatory moody blues being an allegory for his trauma and ptsd surrounding the death of his partner.. constantly haunted by his own mistake and reliving that moment. heavily referencing his wish to redo, to know every detail of that prick he let bribe him that killed his partner, to have Control. because abbacchio isnt really about The Moment -- he's making sure the Moment doesnt have a chance to come to fruition. its nipping it in the bud before the weed can kill. he wants to make sure he can figure out whats going on First and protect. to figure out past events and prevent future danger.

starting to heal:

i’ve done a timeline previously: he graduates high school in 1998, six months for the police academy, 6 months before hes out again.. joins passione in december (rainy season) of 1999, and by december of 2000 (~4 months before part 5) hes like.... well. doing better in terms of his alcoholism. we see abbacchio by part 5 occasionally and seemingly comfortably enjoying a glass or two, which speaks that after some time working hes sort gained some..... confidence in his ability to keep his intake low.

working for bruno means he cant drink as often or binge as much, hes needed and that structure keeps him in check, its not easy and yes he slips but its about and overall upwards climb because any progress is good progress... he builds a rapport with the team, comes to appreciate brunos role in giving him a chance and some peace of mind, sees himself in fugo, treats narancia like a little brother. relationships with others cant Fix your problems but friendship and structure can help, they can be there when you need it.

hes starting to trust himself more. and his relationship to fugo and nara were as crucial as his one with bruno is.

in purple haze feedback we see that he's been teamed up with fugo, and he knows fugos stand ability very well (see mirror man fight)... they Get each other and abbacchio sees a lot of his anger and distrust at himself in fugo, and easily calms fugo down when he gets upset (see mirror man episode in the car)

fugo helped him trust himself and others more .. that other people arent Fragile and arent going to die on him every time they get into danger and its not His fault. he relies on fugo and vice versa. the kid is powerful but also a smart tactician and extremely capable. they Get each other and it helps abbacchio trust himself in combat situations and helps calm his paranoia about getting someone killed while working ... and nara is just sunshine. hes an annoying little brother but it helps him retain normalcy. some sense of like. not everything is doom and gloom

his depression and general self? depreciation perhaps doesnt leave him because those kinds of thoughts mould your brain a certain way.. they dont just go away without some work. but perhaps time with bruno helps him start to realise his worth, the way the team appreciates him and his ability. his self consciousness can start to fall away a little bit. i think by the time december of 2000 (a year after his recruitment by my timeline) hes like... a lot more comfortable with the schedule of his life, it helps him get out of bed, gives his brain a structure to latch onto. the responsibility of overseeing the younger ones and helping bruno gives him the sort of hope for this original goal of wanting to protect

@ bruno (in a more romantic sense perhaps + why i think he distrusts giorno so much)

his relationship to bruno isnt fucking “godlike savior<3″ because thats.... needless to say Very unhealthy.

their relationship doesnt reach a point by where i think Either would even want to enter a relationship until about a year in (~4 months before part 5 begins)... theres a certain uncertainty i think bruno has with wanting to help abbacchio, he respects and cares about the other man and canonically sees him as his senior.. and i think theres a certain wall there that bruno isnt sure he wants to try to knock down, meanwhile abbacchio isnt sure when he built those walls but theyre safe (and what happens if you try to reach out?)

i think they sort of fall into it and its not... planned. its a little impulsive but it feels natural and they help each other because bruno is this comfort to abba, is the reason he has this structure and has made this progress himself and hes not....crediting it all to bruno obviously but bruno did play a Large Role. and bruno is all about little white lies, appearances. Yes hes fine. Dont worry, he has things under control.

and i think to an extent abbacchio knows of brunos softer spots (as does fugo, bc of the reason he and fugo team up as described in phf is to protect him) but abba doesnt realise to the extent that bruno is .... hiding his real fears. brunos a lot about compartmentalization (hi zippers) and being let into brunos internal... thoughts beyond the occasional worries he mightve shared is a big step for them. bruno buries a lot of his internal problems and worries. he has to. hes got to keep moving, keep working; people rely on him... but abbacchio is the person he doesnt feel like he needs to protect because theyre equals and maybe he can let someone in to shoulder his worries and vice versa. theyre partners.

which is why i think abbacchio initially distrusts giorno so much... its not tht he doesnt trust bruno, but bruno doesnt Tell him about this. he realizes he might not know all brunos fears (specifically @ his distate and hate towards the mafia i made the point about in the bruno isnt evil post where its like.. he Couldntve shared that information, otherwise he would endanger abbacchio)

and it scares him. it freaks him the fuck out because he doesnt understand who this kid is or why bruno trusts him so much but he trusts bruno so he goes with it, even if he doesnt Understand.

anyways thts my TEDtalk ty i love you for reading this if you got here<3

#EDIT: ok 2 rb if you want!!!#leone abbacchio #im not tagging it otherwise i just want this findable in my own tagging system LOL #all of this is from discord from dming adrian and simon so hi guys if youre reading the tags #i deal with a lot of the issues abbacchio does but i understand that that doesnt mean i didnt use language that might be incorrect #i understand and apologize !! feel free to send an ask but otherwise pls im not trying to start meta discourse over an anime character #i just wanted to get my thoughts out because im tired of seeing representations of him that i just. feel are SO so ugly #esp as someone whos struggled with the issues #caleb.txt #caleb meta hour

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pucksslut · 5 years ago

Text

-a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

summary: burdened by constant nightmares, you force yourself to relive memories, struggling with coping and handling your grief.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2,621

warnings: angst, wholeee lotta angst! mentions of some things that could possibly be triggering(depression), grief

authors note(s): my first post on here! any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated! also, feel free to request things for me to write! thank you:)

...

“Fuck,” you groaned, rubbing the sleep off your eyes as you looked around. The sun still asleep, the moon bright as ever. You cup your face with your hands, remembering the nightmares that consumed you as you slept. Swinging your feet off the bed, you walked to your bathroom.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, taking a short look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes bloodshot, the skin surrounding was red, swollen even, hair a complete disaster.

You questioned if you’d even slept, feeling exhausted as ever. Walking back to your bed, you pick up your phone. Unlocking it, you felt as if your heart completely shattered. Your own eyes betrayed you, boring into your wallpaper, where a once happy couple sat on a bench. Remembering the day that picture was taken, as if it had recently just happened.

…

“Katsuki! You have to at least smile.” You begged your blonde boyfriend, looking at his grumpy face,

“Fuck that, I’m taking the fucking picture you begged me to take. Be grateful.” Bakugou mumbled,

“I’m sorry about him, his manners need a bit of work.” You tried to laugh off Bakugou’s rude behavior. The stranger taking the picture uncomfortably smiled. You tried to nudge Bakugou, but he kept the straight look on his face.

‘There’s only one solution,’ You thought to yourself. Reaching over to your boyfriend, you began to tickle his stomach.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Bakugou questioned, trying his best to not laugh. Smiling to yourself, you continued your assault.

“Katsu, stop being a stubborn asshole and smile!”

Finally, you earned a grin on his face. Turning to the stranger, you smiled, signaling for her to take your photo.

“I got it.” She quietly said. You stopped tickling Bakugou, adjusting your shirt, you stood up.

“Thank you so much,” You said, walking over to grab your phone from her, “And sorry for his attitude, he’s a bit of a handful.” You smiled, the woman returning your action before quietly walking away.

“The fuck did you just say?”Bakugou hissed, standing up from the bench.

“You heard me.” You grinned, walking over to your boyfriend. Grabbing him by the waist, you wrapped your arms around the blonde boy, nuzzling into his neck. You pulled out your phone to look at the photo,

“Katsuki, look how cute we are!” You exclaimed shoving the phone into his face. You could feel the happiness radiating off of yourself, consumed by an unruly amount of love for your him.

“I’m sorry for being an ass.” Bakugou said quietly, looking up at him you asked,

“Is the Bakugou Katsuki apologizing?” Sarcasm hitting him straight in the face,

“Damnit, I’m just trying to be nice.” He hugged you back, a permanent smile forming across your lips,

“I love you so much, Katsuki. You know that, right?” You asked him, a tone of reassurance in your voice.

“I love you so much more, Princess.” He says, and that line will never fade in your memory.

“I’d never leave you, together forever. Till the very end.” You quietly said, sticking up your pinky finger to him, signaling your signature pinky promise.

“I promise, I’ll stick with your annoying ass” He lovingly coos, interlocking your pinkies together. Your heart was finally complete, like a puzzle aching to be finished.

You loved him, and he loved you. Till the very end.

…

You both had been together for 3 years, and you had noticed that you were to the only person he’d ever treat that way. Allowing himself the ability to openly show his affection around you. Bakugou had never been the type to show how he was feeling, always hiding his emotions deep down where no one could find them, but then there was you.

No one would have guessed that the hot-headed Pro-Hero could fall in love, but you two were perfect for each other. Somehow, you both to balanced each other out, like the sunlight to a blooming flower, you needed each other. You had proclaimed to your friends that you and Bakugou were soulmates, how he was your everything. They agreed, figuring that you were the only one able to ground him, to turn him into the loving and doting husband no one could ever picture him as.

Now, what is it you loved about him? What exactly was it that brought you so much closer to the emotionally-detached boy? You see, there were more than enough reasons for you to love Bakugou Katsuki.

You frequently admired him, you swore you could stare at his features for hours. How perfectly is hair would cascade around his face, or how adorable his angry facial expressions were, especially when he would scrunch his nose when he laughed. You noticed everything about Katsuki, and for a matter of fact, he noticed everything about you.

He was astonished by your beauty, repeatedly telling himself you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d frequently tell you about the first time he saw you, in his words,

“You’re annoying ass wouldn’t fucking leave me alone, but goddamn, you looked absolutely breathtaking.”

He kept these compliments between you and himself, you were his self-proclaimed “little secret”. As a matter of fact, he would tell you all the things he loved about you; he loved how the front pieces of your hair perfectly framed your face, how you would bite your cheek when you were nervous, or how perfectly your hand fit into his. Everything you did was absolutely breathtaking in his eyes.

You admired him for his strength, how he could continuously get up from a fight and never back down, even if it was an argument, Bakugou always had to be right. This annoyed you of course, but he was headstrong, it was something you wished you could be. You knew him like the back of your hand, his likes or dislikes, what things would make him angry, or what made him smile.

No one ever thought of Bakugou as the type to settle down. His only intention was to become the number one hero, that was it, plain and simple. As cliché as it sounds, you changed his outlook for him, forcing him to push harder for not only himself, but for you. He fell for you, and he fell hard. Something he could never see himself doing, but low and behold, you amazed him once again.

He was your rock, your blanket when the nights got cold or for when the days got hard. The shoulder you could always cry on, happy tears or sad. The man you could always rely on when everything got too overwhelming. Even when he was being a complete asshole, you were completely and utterly in love with Bakugou Katsuki.

…

What went wrong you ask?

You didn’t even know that yourself. It was so difficult for you to wrap your head around, you hadn’t even been able to completely digest it yet. Nightmares accompanied you every night, reminding you of what you’d lost.

You often found yourself heavily sobbing, but tonight was so much worse. Heavy cries filling the room. You’d be surprised if the neighbors couldn’t hear it, agitated that someone could be so loud in the middle of the night. Throwing your phone across the room, you fell to the floor, wrapping your arms around your legs and sobbing into your knees.

It hurt so bad. Memories racked through your head.

‘What the fuck went wrong?’ You continuously asked yourself. You swore it’d been hours since you found yourself in this position, your eyes eventually running out of tears. You wiped your flamed cheeks, cursing at how badly your face burned. Getting up off the ground, you walked to the bathroom once again, splashing cold water onto your face. You sat on the toilet, pinching your arm, hoping that this endless nightmare could finally go away. But it didn’t

Throwing on a pair of sweats and shoes, you left your cold apartment. Your throat burned, eyes completely bloodshot. You didn’t know what time it was, or how long you’d been in your room. Your life had been on an endless loop, you hadn’t eaten in days it felt. Friends stopped by every so often, wishing you apologies or an ‘It will get better’. All of it was bullshit. You knew they were just trying to show you support, but you didn’t need pity, more so, you didn’t want their pity.

You found yourself walking along the sidewalk, hands stuffed into your pockets. The same thoughts swirling around in your head, silently, you begged them to stop. To stop reminding you of what you’d lost.

…

“You’ve reached Bakugou Katsuki, this number isn’t available at the moment, but leave your message at the beep!” Beep. A woman’s voice came from the phone.

‘Fuck.” You mumbled under your breath,

“Hey Kat, it’s me, your wonderful girlfriend! It’s late, where are you? Please call me back, I love you!” You said ending the voice message, worry evident in your voice.

It’d been hours since you’d last heard from your boyfriend. You figured that he was busy, as he was always swamped at work. Being the number one hero was extremely difficult and all, but he was still always able to make time to call, or at least text the usual, ‘I’m at work. Love you’, but today was different.

You’d made yourself comfortable on the couch in the living room, hoping to hear the door swing open, letting you know Bakugou was home. The TV blared obnoxiously loud through the house, you endlessly flipped through channels, trying to get your mind over where he could possibly be.

‘What the fuck.’ You mumbled to yourself. It was nearing two in the morning, four hours out from when his shift was supposed to end. Grabbing your phone from off your leg, you’d still hadn’t received a single call or text from Katsuki. Filled with worry, you dialed the only person you could think of calling.

“Kiri? Hey, it’s me.” You addressed through the phone, nervously playing with the hem of your sock.

“Y/N? It’s late, something up?” Kirishima’s soft voice rang through the phone. Bakugou’s best friend was the one person you thought to call, as he almost always knew of your boyfriend’s whereabouts.

‘No shit, why else would I be calling so late?’ You grunted to yourself,

“Yeah, actually there is. Have you heard from Katsuki? I’ve tried calling and he hasn’t picked up. His shift ended hours ago. He isn’t home.” You said, you thought you sounded stupid. Obviously something had to be wrong, why else would he not have come home? You’re extreme worry filled your body, but you had to be strong. You took a deep breath to remind yourself that all is ok, sighing through the phone.

“Shit, Y/N. I haven’t spoken to him all day.” Kirishima said tiredly, however, you could hear that he too, was just as worried about his best friend. This set you off,

“What the fuck do we do? This isn’t like him Kiri.” You could feel tears brimming in your eyes, knowing that you had to do something,

“Is he cheating or some shit? Did something happen? Fuck I can’t lose-“ You ranted as sobs broke from your mouth, but before you could end your sentence, you were cut off by the loud noise stemming from the TV.

Turning your head, you saw the ‘Breaking News’ headline flashing with what your heart couldn’t possibly take.

“Breaking News, several injured, and one dead at the scene of a robbery and hostage situation. Among the injured, Number One hero, Bakugou Katsuki, pronounced dead at the scene, late this evening. A prolific and horrid event for everyone involved.

Reports say the villain, going by the name of ‘The Undertaker’, was able to trap several civilians, turning this into a serious hostage situation. Bakugou Katsuki was able to rush in and save-“

You turned off the TV, your phone dropping to the ground. You entire body collapsed, loud sobs filling the entire room,

“Y/N? Shit, are you ok? What’s going on?” Kirishima’s voice echoed, but you didn’t reply, continuing the cries flowing out of your body. You shook as you held your mouth, trying to console your breaking heart.

‘No, no, no. It can’t be. This is all just some sick joke. Some sick, terrible, twisted prank.’ You tried to reassure yourself, coming up with an endless amount of excuses for yourself.

“Hello? Answer me,” After moments of continuous crying,

“Fuck, I’m on my way.” The line abruptly ended.

…

You felt a tear fall down your cheek, the cold air of an October morning hitting you in the face. Your tangled hair blew behind you, you didn’t give a shit about making yourself look “presentable”, who was there to impress?

It’d been nearly 3 months, yet the pain losing your soulmate didn’t feel any “better”. People constantly told you that time heals everything, but you repeatedly asked how time could fix the mess you were living in. Nothing seemed to help how you were feeling, better yet, they only worsened. Days went on that you were reminded of what you lost.

Some days you were consumed with sadness, consoling yourself by laying in his clothes, hoping the lingering smell would somehow make you feel better. Other days, you were filled with complete anger and guilt, begging someone, anyone, to bring him back and take you instead. But it never worked.

…

You’d finally made your way to your destination, the sun eventually peeking through the clouds. Each day, the Earth still spun, life continuing on for most, yet the Earth seemed to stop dead in its tracks for you. Time slowed at an excruciating pace, making it almost impossible for you to work out how how were feeling, constantly just sulking in your own sadness.

You walked over to the stone, staring down at his name. You sat in the grass next to him, pulling back your hair so you could see clearly.

“You know, it wasn’t fair for you to leave me like this.” You said, looking off into the sky in front of you, hoping you’d somehow earn a response. But instead, you received silence.

“Remember the times we’d promise each other,”

“Pinky promise?” You asked, feeling your nose burn and your eyes well up,

“How we’d promise that we’d be together, until the very end?” The waterworks began, feeling tears pool down your face.

“Well, you lied. You fucking lied to me, you piece of shit.” You sniffled, anger and sadness hitting you all at once.

“Could’ve at least apologized, instead, you left me here to gather all of your pity.” You scoffed, burying your head in your chest between your arms. It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair at all. You wished he could be right next to you, holding you close, telling you it’d all be ok, reassuring you that you had to be strong. Instead, he was buried six feet underneath where you were sitting.

“You know, people used to say we were soulmates, how we were made for each other.” You looked over at his headstone, a small smile across your lips,

“If you were here right now, you’d laugh and tell me that soulmates are bullshit.” You laughed, running your hands through your hair.

“Fuck. This really sucks. We were supposed to stay together, for fucking forever, Katsuki. I was supposed to be your annoying sidekick for the rest of our lives. We were supposed to get married, have kids. You could just come back, we could restart. It’d be easy.” You tried to reassure yourself, hoping to stop the tears flowing from your eyes.

“I guess that’s not how it works, is it now?” You scoffed, rubbing your eyes until they burned. You’d have to sleep alone now, waking up to nothing but cold air next to you. You’d make dinner for one, sitting at the dinner table alone. You’d have to comfort yourself, hoping that you could be strong enough to bring yourself up from this mess. There would be no more late night drives, no more hugs or cuddles, no more of the two of you, no more of us.

“Guess I’m stuck here in this nightmare by myself, huh?” You said, sitting your chin on your hands that were placed on top of your knees. You’d have to come to terms with the fact that your soulmate, your forever was gone. And it hurt like hell.

“Soulmates’ that weren’t meant to be. Is that what they say?” You asked the headstone sitting next to you.

This nightmare would never come close to ever ending, but time wouldn’t just stop for you, the Earth wouldn’t just stop spinning. You had to keep going, forced to keep reliving the same nightmare on an endless loop. Life forcing you to accept that he just was a soulmate that wasn’t meant to be.

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #angst #bnha angst #mha #bnha #my hero academia #bnha oneshots #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Note

Oh my goodness - no need to worry if part three lived up to the others, it did so and MORE in my opinion!! Watching reader’s mindset change with the introduction of sex to their circumstance is so sickeningly fascinating - the bargaining and denial, the attempts to claim agency or security, the heart-dropping realization and regret as they’re about to fuck osamu - and yet they press forward anyway because what else is there?? You portray the back and forth conflict of reader’s thoughts so well, it’s so easy to understand their reasoning and empathize with their horror (and other feelings... 👀) You make the deterioration of their will seem so reasonable, like the natural progression of things, and that’s almost as terrifying as the twins themselves here (by which I mean, your writing is so fucking good for making me think and feel this way holy shit)

God speaking of the twins, where to even start with osamu... I am a bit biased since he’s my favourite, but I love the way you’ve characterized him here. It’s such a natural extension of his personality into this unnatural scenario - the restraint applied to himself, the correction of his twin’s behaviour as a way to regulate his own, yet the undeniable fact that he’s just as hungry, that for all their dissimilarities they are no different when it comes to pursuing what they love. There’s just so much to examine in his behaviour and thought process - his distrust of reader coupled with how easily he ended up crumbling to them (and his own suppressed desires), how he hopes they’ll be the one to restrain him, how he recognizes the immorality of it all and tries to be responsible to mitigate the damage (and his guilt), yet refuses to truly fix any of it - he’s so contradictory and complicated and I love it. There’s something to be said for atsumu’s shameless embracing of sin, but I personally love seeing the struggle in osamu, how he’s also slowly breaking down like reader and giving in after being so careful for so long. His desperation and repressed feelings being released and shown so clearly was just... 🥺 too bad that’s exactly what reader doesn’t want LOL.

Oh but let’s not forget how incredibly hot the spicy bits were!! I don’t even know what to say, Osamu being contradictory again in prioritizing reader’s pleasure but ultimately just doing what he wants (actually, perhaps he wasn’t prioritizing them but just wanted to taste them?? Or a mix of both like how reader has so many competing motives-) the first stroke oh my god, the thickness and how he doesn’t wait... the fact that reader came two strokes in 🥵 the position change 🥵 the roughness 🥵 the fact that he ALSO CAME INSIDE SKDNSK- again, I’m satisfied cause he’s my favourite but I totally get why atsumu got all outraged LMAO. especially with Osamu being so smug about making reader come twice 😳

Okay but reader saying welcome home though 🥺 ugh the confliction... whether it was to deter more fights or just a post-orgasm fluke, I feel like these small signs of acceptance/affection are going to encourage and embolden the twins just as much as the sex. OH and I can’t believe I didn’t talk about this yet but OSAMU’S BLUSHES AND RESPONSE TO READER’S HUG WERE SO CUTE- the tickling and his smile when reader laughed!! And his smile again after they fucked 😭 if only you hadn’t kidnapped them samu, maybe this could have been a sweet romance. Alas, he did, and as cute as it is that he’s softened, it probably means his self-restraint is weakened too - all because of that small gesture of affection (and what followed ofc aha). what happens once the overseer is done with just watching, never acting...? Poor reader, please enjoy your peaceful nap while it lasts 💔

Gosh, this all feels like the tip of the wedge, like the three of them are on the edge about to spiral further down into each other - and honestly, I am enthralled by it!! You did such an amazing job with this fic and with this series overall. Ah, but rereading the author’s note- I’m sorry you weren’t in a good place before/while writing this :( I really hope things are better for you now, or that they will be soon. I truly appreciate all the work you’ve put into this, and the skill with which you did. Thank you so much, take care, and I hope you have an amazing day ❤️

Wow! You absolutely blew me away (also, someone please tell me how the fuck you guys are writing these long and formatted asks???????)!! Like honestly I woke up at night and saw someone sent an ask and I started reading and couldn’t go back to sleep because I was all giddy and happy, omg, you are really amazing! Thank you so much for your time and support to type this all out ♥

I am so relieved I was able to show the process of thinking and changing in the reader since that isn’t always easy for me to describe as a non-native speaker! In a way I know what I want to say but it comes out like toddler’s speech :’D I am really glad it was understandable and reasonable for you to read, that helps me a lot to estimate future projects ♥

Thank you for going so thoroughly into Osamu’s (and by continuation also Atsumu’s) character! I think personalization is a strong point I have and I just love thinking about how to take the traits (strong/weak points and fears and all of it) a character has and turn it into a yandere personality, so I try to really pull from their canon verse and use it for my stories for reasoning and actions they take!

And ooh, I see you read between the lines! Yes, the initial idea was that Osamu was just having a taste of them, since you know, he repressed his desires a lot and now he has the chance to get it all! However, writing from a reader’s pov is always connected with not being to clear on what is going on inside the character’s head! After all, reader isn’t a mindreader and thus wouldn’t exactly be able to know it. But I can hint and sprinkle some ideas in anyway, hoping you guys will pick up on them :D Good job! I will admit that having him creampie the reader is actually a plot mistake I made... I mean call it personal preference, I just like that kink, but I only realized I used it again when I reread the story in correction and was like “Oh shit, I forgot Atsumu was fetching the morning-after pill!!” but in the end I must say it works out well because, you know, Osamu was just taking the chance, since the reader is most likely taking the pill anyway so why not be bold? Lol! Pretty sure I can work on my smexy scenes a lot more, I often think they might be too unbalanced, but I am glad if you all can still enjoy them, even if there’s a lot of space for improvement! ^-^

I TOTALLY live for those two bickering with each other tho lol! I couldn’t resist Osamu being snarky there xD

But yeah, welcoming Atsumu back home is like a free ticket to hell. You can’t just give Atsumu a finger without him taking the whole hand if you know that idiom. He’ll totally cling to every little nice thing reader does to him and insist forever that he’s the favorite twin just because they did xyz. I do feel like with Yandere, it always could have been so wholesome, if not for the yan being a psychopath xD

But yessss, like I mentioned in the previous ask, even if there’s more content following around, these three are the foundations of the reader and the two twins in a relationship. And now that abrriers are broken it can only go down down down so to say xD Thank you so much for reading and your well-wishes! I am currently not in a good place mentally which is probably why I’ll take a small break from the Fox Wedding too because for the last two chapters I want to be ready and prepared. But I am glad this story could bring you joy, it really helped me too when I was feeling at my worst, and now your ask absolutely gave me a good push to not despair in my little depression! I really appreciate your support and the time you spent on reading & writing, thank you so much for being an awesome reader ♥ I aspire to provide much more content you’ll like in the future ^-^ Stay safe & well too, my friend ♥

#Admin #Anonymous

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notasiren21 · 5 years ago

Note

#40 from the prompt list please and thank you!!!

I’m so sorry this took so long!!!

Someone You Loved

Rating: Mature for some themes

Pairing: fuckin’ Lukanette boi

Word count: 4,665

Prompt: (40) “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

Description:

Well, Luka sings a song and I pissed @macaknight off with this when I asked her to beta read the start of it. It helps if you listen to the song in the story, Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi. Enjoy lmao

She was around by his side long enough to engrave the little things into his mind.

He knew how it felt to have the soft strands of midnight blues through his fingers as he tangled them in her hair. To have her legs settle on either side of his as he trailed his hand up her small back and waist under her soft cotton shirts. The cheeky grin he grew to love baring up at him when his arms bracketed with her in between he picked her up at home.

How he didn't care for sweets but loved the way blueberry muffins tasted on her tongue and the taste of her mixed with raspberry jelly when it leaked from the corner of her pouty lips.

How the Liberty swayed under his feet against the small currents the wind brought on as they danced in the rain. The feel of his converse bracing both their weights as her drenched skirt blew in harsh waves between them. The first lightning strike reflecting off an anchor necklace he gave her on their first date.

When she kissed his cheek when he started humming absently with frustration as he tried to figure out the melody he wrote. Her small fingers pulling the pencil out of his death grip as she lent her forehead against his to calm him and decipher the jumbled notes he had in his head.

The way her face lit up when he played it back to her.

The way her face fell when she told him she loved him but they couldn't be together.

How her arms stiffly pulled away from his hug and the red of her eyes she showed up with.

How the airy taste of salt from the water didn't compare to the salt of his tears that trailed to his lips as he grounded the palm of his hands to his eyes roughy as sobs racked through his body when he collapsed to the wood of the ship.

The way it left him numb with hurt and he became too compliant with his happenings, too accepting.

Defeated.

Music was harder to hear and enjoy, he couldn't compose anything more than a haunting melody that brought any stranger to tears.

He wasn't sure he even felt the burn to his tongue when he drank his hot coffee as soon as it was handed to him. Or the rough jerk of his shoulder to turn him around as his guitar bounced off his back.

"Hey man, you look worse for wear." Théo, a former classmate of his that now ran the coffee shop, spoke as he eyed him critically. Luka shifted his thick blacks squared rimmed sunglasses up higher to cover his dark circles better. "I'd say it's great to see you, but..."

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He offered the excuse at the ready, hating how well lying came with sadness.

“Ah, life of a famous rockstar.” Théo teased with a smirk. “No wondering you’re wearing a hat like that backwards to cover your hair and shades for those ‘oh so sexy’ blue eyes of yours.”

“Not famous,” Luka cringed at Théo’s words. “Just well known on the internet I guess.”

“Sorry for overplaying your popular cover videos man.” His old school mate laughed.

"It's fine. What's up?" He forced a smile that came across as genuine despite what he felt.

Théo crossed his arms and made a jerk with his head in the direction of the shop across the street, "New place has been stealing some of our loyal customers." Luka scratched under the brim of his black baseball cap he had on backwards as he followed the movement. "Lunch hour is about to hit and you know much we moved to stop by this part of town for break."

"Yeah, your aunt made good scones." He supplied.

He grunted in response, "Yeah. Well, girls frequent here more from school, and they keep going there," he roughly jerked his chin to the place again, "Just because there's an older guy who takes their order who is attractive, I guess. Or so I'm told."

Luka blinked at the shop before turning to his old friend, "What do you need from me then?"

"Observant as always, Couffaine." He snorted with a shake of his head. "I wanted to see if you -an attractive older guy- would give a small performance just as the girls come."

"What? Why?"

"Are you dense? With your face and body, and that 'sinful voice' of yours the girls cooed about back then and from your YouTube covers, I'm guaranteed to bring in more customers for today."

Luka tossed his half full coffee cup to the trash next to him. His own arms crossing as he wished he was in his cabin instead, laying on his bed while he stared up at the ceiling and trying to not feel the clench of his arm when he smelled Marinette's hibiscus shampoo and berry scented perfume on his pillows.

"I don't know."

His friend clasped onto his shoulder again, "Please man, you can keep 40% of the money you help bring in, I don't care. That shop is a dick and acting like we're not its competition."

“Man, you really don’t have to, I’ll just take a free coffee if you really need this.” Anything seemed better than just wallowing at home at this point, despite the incredible want to do so that swelled within him as he stood on the block he and Ladybug often frequented to patrol. “I mean it.”

Théo smiled, guiding him to a spot that he started clearing out near the cafe’s short fence that caged the outdoor tables and chairs.

“That’s okay, I feel bad to make you work without pay.” He straightened his back that had been bent forwards as he pushed tables, “Consider it repayment for that time you paid for my lunch.”

Luka stopped, “Lunch? When did I-,” he grunted. “Théo, that was four years ago.”

“Well, last Saturday had me thinking about all my debts and regrets when I thought I was gonna die. You came up.”

He flinched at mention of Saturday.

Saturday, the final fight against Hawkmoth who showed up in person with a struggling Mayura and an akumatized sentimonster of Lila. The combination of their powers as well as the wickedness that resided in the girl proving to be a difficult fight for them all when Ladybug and Chat pulled the entire team in.

Including a Chloé Bourgeois who was more than ready to help.

He could’ve sworn he heard Marinette screaming his name in worry when Hawkmoth closed in on him and hit into his side with his cane full force. But that was ridiculous. Because Marinette was Ladybug and Ladybug was Marinette. And Marinette wanted nothing to do with Luka since they had broken up without reason beyond her excuse of not being able to be with him.

He was a bit bitter about the whole ordeal.

Okay, he was more so lovesick and depressed, but his negative energy still stood.

“Yeah,” he flinched again when he heard his voice crack and he thumbed his bracelet -once silver, now a metallic black to hide better, “At least they finally caught Hawkmoth for good.”

“No kidding, now we can just focus on the heroes and the gossip your little girlfriend’s bestie posts.”

A knife. Through his heart. Twisting and gutting.

“Gossip?” He chose the safer option of the sentence, ignoring the onslaught of pitying questions and half-assed supportive promises that correcting Théo would bring.

“Yeah, like how that Ryuuko dragon girl and Chat are definitely dating and that Viperion and Ladybug totally have the hots for one another and the soft looks they give during patrols.”

A chainsaw. Just shredding his heart to pieces.

Luka Couffaine once thought he was a smart kid who made the right decisions.

How wrong he had been.

“Right.” He bit out, gripping the strap of his guitar case and scratching his baseball cap.

Théo shot up and loudly clapped with a whoop, “There we go! Now, I should grab the mic stand from open mic nights and just plug that in and some speakers, then we’ll be good to go.” Maybe Luka should’ve just left. “I’ll get ‘er done in five minutes, tops.”

Luka only nodded, watching as he ran around and set things up, then proudly presented Luka with the lone table he left set up to sit on.

He eyed his skeptically behind his sunglasses before hopping up, testing his weight on the surface before he crossed one ankle across his thigh and took his guitar from Théo who unzipped it for him. Théo pushed the mic stand closer to Luka and adjusted when he peered up at him.

“What do you want me to sing?”

His old friend shrugged with an easy smile, “Anything that comes to mind and draws that big crowd of hungry girls over.” Luka bobbed his head in response and tuned his acoustic guitar as Théo began backing up to inside the store and cheered, “Show off that sinful voice of yours, man! Woo!”

He let out a short chuckle and emptied his mind completely as he shut down, letting his fingers strum a few notes to a song that he began to resonate deeply with.

“I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me,” he closed his eyes and mentally chastised himself for being so open with his feelings as they poured out of him through a popular song. “This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.”

He could see Théo looking at him carefully when he opened before squeezing his eyes shut in pain. He hated that look of pity, but he already started singing this song and he knew he would have to see it through given that the customers at the shop had already turned their attention to him.

“I need somebody to heal

Somebody to know

Somebody to have

Somebody to hold,”

Did he growl at the end of that last line? He wasn’t sure but the audience seemed moved by it and how he didn’t go weak on the verbs. Maybe he could please someone for once by just following with what worked for him.

“It's easy to say

But it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.”

He thought he saw the familiar flash of black with red accents that everyone knew as Ladybug’s new suit for a second up on the rooftops. The rooftops that she danced with Viperion on and let her laugh rang over the quiet town under the stars. He wasn’t sure if he was just hopelessly imagining her or if she was there, but he felt the pain bite all at once and his voice became wobbly in a way that the crowd seemed touched by. You’re kidding me.

“Now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

Weak. He felt weak and it wasn’t the kind where he felt weak at the knees like when Marinette smiled up at him or her nose scrunched in thought.

He always thought he could be emotionally strong to handle whatever came his way. He was so sure of it.

“I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to turn to,” Guess he was weak for Marinette in every way possible after all, “This all or nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you.

“Now, I need somebody to know

Somebody to heal

Somebody to have

Just to know how it feels

It's easy to say but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape.”

There was no blame to place, he knew that. It didn’t make it better or let him throw his anger at her to get it out, but he couldn’t keep punishing himself either.

He felt his eyes sting, shutting them as one tear slipped through and feeling grateful for both his dark shades and the sun beating down on his face past the patio table umbrella, hiding the evidence of his heartbreak.

“Now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down,”

Who was he kidding? The heartbreak was the clearest part about him as he let the rough notes chip away at his throat and the growls making his voice artistically raw that he would have to worry about later.

His heart stopped painfully when he remembered the way Marinette’s face flushed all smitten like with a wondering look when Luka growled while singing and shot her winks, knowing how flustered it made her to see her calm and collective boyfriend with a soft and careful voice sounding so tortured for certain songs.

“And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.

How that came back to bite him in the ass.

He glanced up to blink away the tears and avoid the view of the large growing audience he couldn’t see from the sun.

He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of black and flecks of red again.

Fingers strummed harder and with more purpose and he let his soft voice fall back as the pain ripped through him and out in his voice.

“And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes

I fall into your arms

I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around.”

Fuck. He missed her. He missed her a fuck ton and wanted to hold her again and hear her whisper his nicknames of “Love”, “baby”, “handsome”, “Vipey”, whatever the hell she wanted to call him.

Even his damn name would be enough to sedate him for a year.

“For now the day bleeds

Into nightfall”

Dancing with her into the beginnings of a bad storm on the deck of the Liberty as they belted Cheap Thrills amist her giggles and his laughs he choked down to keep her beautiful voice going with his.

“And you're not here

To get me through it all”

Being curled up on her living room couch the next day with her cuddled into his side. Both sick with the cold, but unable to wipe the weak grins from their faces as Sabine amusingly disapproved of their actions the night before.

“I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug”

Their first kiss when she got flustered at their first date and told him she wouldn’t read too much into it despite wanting to, and him effectively shutting her up for the first time ever with the crash of his lips to hers and hands tilting her head up to meet him in reassurance.

“I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

The first time she called him her boyfriend and the pleased giggle she let out when he gave a startled and flustered noise, his snack flying out of the package he ripped open before he blinked and asked her to repeat what she said as a toothy grin broke his shocked face.

“But now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all”

Did a camera just flash at him? Hard to tell with the sun in his eyes and the dark lenses of his shades. He couldn’t find himself to care either.

“I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

He tried not to think about the fact that he forced himself to change his phone backgrounds to black, tried not to think if she deleted her phone screens of them napping together or the wallpaper of them dancing in the rain Juleka got of them as Luka dipped her over the edge of the stage they always practiced on.

The complete trust in her eyes and smile always made him melt in that picture. Her hands loosely holding her arms as her head titled back in a deep bellied laugh while he held onto her waist tightly with one arm and had the other behind him, the biggest smile that was only found on his face when Marinette was around.

“I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

Luka still fucking loved her more than anything.

His drive, his inspiration, his happiness and safe space. His melody that always rang loudly in his ears.

Now it sounded just as it did when they were younger.

The numbness took over as he looked up, face contorted into a forced happy expression as he dipped his head in gratitude to see the very big crowd that gathered and was clapping with tears in their eyes. He excused himself to find Théo who ignored how exposed the song made his old friend, conversing with him briefly as he counted the amount of customers before Luka left and promised to give him the 40% the next visit he came and a free coffee.

He put up his guitar, tugging the case back over his shoulder as he headed back to the Liberty and tossed the faux leather casing to the bed, tossing his sunglasses to the the bed as well before heading to the deck and off to take a lap to clear his break up riddled mind.

The third block was a close achievement, before he felt the petite body rush into him and the all too familiar wrap of small and strong legs wrap about his waist with a black latex suit arm winding around his neck. He subconsciously fell back into habit as one of his own dropped to hold under her thighs and one around her own waist as black fielded his vision.

He barely got a curse out before the all too telling sound of a spiritually powered string to the famous yo-yo pinned against restraint and shot them upwards, his unmasked face burying itself in the crook of her neck from the force rush of air to his eyes.

His chest tightened to the smell of hibiscus flowers and berries, clutching her tighter for the first time in a long while. Half aware he shifted her higher against him to have her bring them closer.

Well fuck if he wasn’t the most touch starved and needy ex ever.

The familiar sound of a specific metal railing being bounded by the yo-yo was the only warning he got before the touched surface with his feet and she loosened her grip.

He barely heard the words of her detransformation before he could see the flash of pink through black and pulled back from her neck.

Terror shook through him, and his hands and body trembled against her as he couldn’t force himself to look up. Staring intently at the silver anchor necklace he gave her, bounded in a rope of small teal jewels.

Luka couldn’t look at her face, couldn’t look away from the necklace she still wore. He couldn’t let her go or put her down either.

“Breathe love,” her quiet voice spoke, soft and hesitant, breaking Luka as he dropped them to his knees and brought her closer than before.

An audible sob he hadn’t heard since she walked away from him escaped his lips and heaved for air as his chin rested over her head and he looked frantically in front of him. At her balcony, the plants that littered the space and the wood paneling they rested on, the little ladybug statue he bought her as a cute joke.

Seeing none of it through blurry eyes, forcing himself to drop his head to her shoulder as she quaked with tears and ran a soothing hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He couldn’t get words out as he just grounded his face into her. “I thought I was protecting you, I didn’t realize how wrong I was.”

She pulled his face up, ceruleans magnified as his pupils dilated to the sight of her in front of him once again and the tips of his ears flaring just by her touch for the first time in forever. She caught a steam of tears with her thumb, giving him a tight smile.

“My miraculous gave me the intuition that Hawkmoth would make his final move.” She paused for a second, closing her eyes and she breathed deeply. “I thought for sure I would die when he did. Either by his winning, or ours but I would end up a casualty or sacrifice. You guys weren’t even supposed to be there, but Adrien insisted for backup and I just...”

“You left me because you thought you were going to be killed?” Voice gravelly and sore from the coffee shop, he pressed on, fingers twitching at her back. “Why didn’t you tell me? Even if you had to strap me down just to bench me from the fight, you should’ve told me.”

“You’re right,” she rushed. “Absolutely right, and it was pure hell to leave to that day or say what I did. I’ve never been more miserable with my life than I’ve been since we’ve broke up. I hate it, I hate being away from you so much, Luka.”

“Be mine again.”

“What?” She blinked, choking on air.

He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into her touch when she held his face. “I don’t, I don’t fucking care if I’m being selfish anymore. It’s so hard not to be when it comes to you, Marinette. All these small details engraved to my mind, committed to memory and nothing to do with it.

“I keep leaving hoodies I casually wear on my amp for you to take, I keep putting that soft blanket you’re obsessed with folded on the edge of my bed for you to yank off and curl into as soon as you step into my room.” He forced his eyes not to open as he kept going, following the rhythm she provided and he struggled to find words for. “The minute I wake up, before I even open my eyes to see for the first time of the day, my phone is already in my hand with your contact open and a good morning text at the ready for you. Even good night texts when I reset my alarms. I keep leaving your spot open on my bed in case you visit while I’m asleep. Your favorite part on the couch for you. The last cherry popsicle of the package, and the cookie dough ice cream I bought out of habit are still in the freezer waiting for you to find them.

“I’m fucking broken without you.” He rasped, ceruleans meeting baby blues, “I’m missing you emotionally, figuratively, mentally, physically. How the hell am I supposed to be okay when you’ve become such a big part of me? When you’re my literal other half?”

She nudged his button nose with her small one, “I,” she gave a dark laugh that he felt in his core. “I keep airing out my room whenever my sewing machine leaves behind that electrical smell your nose scrunches at so much.” She giggled when she felt him do it at the mention of the scent. “I let the popcorn cook for half a minute longer to get it a little burnt like how you like. I sleep in your hoodies to leave behind the smell of my perfume and shampoo the way you said you like your hoodies to smell when I give them back. I play with my necklace when I grow nervous and can’t talk to you. I can’t go more than five hours without hovering over your contact name or looking at our pictures.”

He sat back on his knees, letting her adjust herself out of habit and moving her hair away from her face. The smile he gave was tight but reassuring.

“I missed you, doll.”

“I missed you too, Luka.” She paused for a second, “Hey,” she started cautiously.

“Hm,”

“Luka, you know I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you, right?”

The glint that quickly came to his eyes didn’t waver like his abused voice did, “I kinda figured from all the times you’ve blushed and stuttered. The times you tripped when I caught you off guard with a flirtatious comment or wink. And the times you kissed me like it was the end of the world.”

He looked up to see her set a false murderous glare above him as he ran his thumb over the teal gems in the rope around the anchor of her necklace, a smirk he hadn’t felt making way to his face as one of his naturally slightly pointer canines became visible to express his pure happiness.

“I forgot how much of a jerk you could be,” she huffed, looking away and sniffing.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He made her look at him, eyes still shining with unshed tears as the stared into hers. His grin was pure radiance, “I love you.”

She let him pull her down to a kiss, feeling those soft pouty lips he loved so much back on his again. “I know,” she replied between kisses, causing him to huff and pull away with his own pout. She held alone his jawline, “I’m kidding, kinda. But, I love you too.”

Her giggle when he let out a happy and short hum was pure music to his ears as her melody finally fell back into the correct time signature and key. Even as he parted with a pant and hugged her close, stroking her hair.

“Just, don’t leave me in the dark again.” He started, seeing her phone that fell out of her back pocket light up with a text from Alya.

Alya: So did you kiss and makeup, or not? I have Nino on the edge of his seat.

Alya: no really, he keeps asking and refuses to do ANYTHING until he finds out.

Alya: for fuck’s sake, answer and let me get laid

He hid his smile in her shoulder from the texts and the fact that she never changed her screens from them. Letting him see her cheek smushed up against his chest and her arm lazily thrown around his waist while his held her close.

“Never, not again. I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice like I once was.” He snorted at the reference to her old crush on Adrien years ago. “But we do have something to talk about.”

He pulled back, eyeing her cautiously. “Did I do something?”

“Yes,” his heart fell and he was ready to beg for her forgiveness. “You know how many girls have your picture now? Videos of you singing a song in such a beautifully tortured way with those growls, and the rough notes and the, stop laughing Couffaine!”

“I’m sorry,” he muffled his laughs behind his hand. “I forgot how much fun I had just by talking with you and your small bouts of jealousy.”

“Oh, I’m bad? Says the boy who sang a song that people keep covering for heartbreak.”

“I’m getting paid for doing it.”

“How much?”

“40% of the customers I brought in by drawing a crowd and a coffee on the house,” he let a smile spread across his face. “You know, I might be able to change it. Can I treat you to a free mint hot chocolate, a date as well maybe?”

She considered him for a second.

“With whipped cream,” he added for extra measure to his small sweet’s addict. He dimpled up at her with a scrunch when she kissed his button nose.

“God, I love you, Luka.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her slowly, “Mari, just don’t let me sing like that again, my voice is killing me.”

“Got it, never leave you again.”

“Pretty much.”

“Hey, you look cute with your baseball cap backwards like this.” She winked, pulling his black hat from the balcony floor where it fell off and back on his head.

“I’d respond with a witty comment, but it hurts to talk now.”

She grinned, “Hm, I love you.”

Luka still smiled despite flinching from the rawness of his throat, “I love you.”

96 notes · View notes

inliar · 4 years ago

Text

spaced in, spaced out

word count: 4.5k

hyojin-centric

hyojin wholeheartedly loves space; the big kind, like the sky and the planets and the brilliant, brilliant stars, but also the small kind, like the time he gets to himself when everything screams louder than it should.

mildly inspired by on the run LA ep 22, time stamp 10:25

a/n: i’ve posted this on ao3 and have since orphaned it (due to unnecessary worrying) so if you recognize it, that’s likely why.

warning: mentions of exhaustion / depressive symptoms

on days when practice runs late (which is almost every day when you don’t know when to stop; a trait hyojin admits he has but refuses to see the problem with), hyojin likes to look at the sky. when he’s feeling lazy, or when dance practice is exceptionally gruelling, he can only really manage to make it to the nearest window and do his best to look up and over the surrounding building’s walls. but when he’s feeling particularly active, he’ll take the stairs up to the rooftop patio and enjoy the sight. from there, he has a clear, unobstructed, view.

not that it’s all that clear, though. light pollution, residual smog, and occasionally cloudy skies mask what hyojin imagines would be a stunning scene without. he’s looked up some night sky pictures on nasa’s official gallery, and they were absolutely breathtaking. so were their ridiculously high quality photos of the solar system, and the milky way, and all the constellations. he has these images saved in a neat little folder on his phone, for days when his own view doesn’t cut it. one day, hyojin would like to see them in real life. maybe he could visit an actual observatory with professional telescopes.

but as it stands, all hyojin can see from his place on earth is the moon, and, if he’s lucky, a couple of stars. on most days, that’s enough. he can observe how far along the lunar cycle the moon is, and he can close his eyes and make a tiny wish to the first star he saw that night. he’s not sure if his wishes help — luck is a fickle thing that he’s never quite had enough of — but he figures it can’t hurt. and after his little ritual, he can return back to his practice room or his dorm with a peaceful mind. he’s here. he’s grounded. he has a more or less beautiful sky to look at. on most days, that’s enough.

but on other days, it’s not. like today.

for one, it’s not even nighttime. a glance at the clock in the practice room tells him that it’s 17:34, which he eventually translates into 5:34 p.m.. it’s much too early to look to the sky for comfort, and it is definitely much too early for the type of crisis that hyojin normally only gets very late at night or very early in the morning. the ones where he can’t do anything besides sit in place like some useless tree stump while he questions his life.

“do you want to go get dinner?”

hyojin hates wasting time, so he doesn’t let them happen often, but every now and then one sneaks by him. especially when he’s overworked and tired and doesn’t have the energy to fight it off. he’s not sure what’s happening just yet, but he can sense that familiar, unsettling feeling simmering somewhere very near.

“hyung, you good?” hyojin hears, and he jolts in place where he’s sitting on the practice room floor. yuto’s looking down at him, all wide eyed and polite, and seungjoon is draped over the poor boy’s back.

“yeah, sorry, i was just … thinking.” hyojin replies lamely, cursing himself for his lack of a better explanation. all of these thoughts, and not a single one is of any use outside of his head.

“seungjoon hyung asked if you were getting dinner with us, but you didn’t answer.” yuto continues. hyojin pauses to process this, before noticing just how quiet the room is. a glance around the room confirms his suspicions; the room is empty, save for the three of them. “where did everyone else go?” hyojin asks.

“jaeyoung and minkyun said they were going to the studio after practice today to work on a new song, remember? and changyoon went to start a vlive. they all said goodbye before they left?” seungjoon explains.

huh. hyojin doesn’t recall any of this. “right, now i remember!” hyojin lies, perhaps a bit too eagerly. he can feel seungjoon staring at him, but he avoids the impulse to look back and stubbornly maintains eye contact with yuto instead.

“so … dinner?” yuto asks.

hyojin hesitates. he is hungry, but going out to eat means talking to someone to order. it means maintaining a conversation with his members, or at the very least keeping up with what they’re talking about. they’re usually really good at sensing when doesn’t want to talk, and they never push him, but hyojin doesn’t want to show off how drained he’s feeling at the moment. just thinking about it makes his head hurt.

“i don’t really want to go out today.” hyojin confesses. seungjoon and yuto nod together like a pair of synchronized bobble heads. cute.

“i’m kind of getting a headache, so i think i’ll head back to the dorm for a bit and take a nap. maybe i can go live sometime today, too. did anyone say they wanted to go after changyoon?” hyojin asks.

“no, i don’t think so.” seungjoon replies, which causes hyojin to accidentally make eye contact with him. darn. seungjoon can be ridiculously perceptive when he wants to be, especially when it comes to reading him. hyojin is not in the mood to be read right now.

seungjoon must come to some sort of conclusion in his head, because he stops staring at hyojin with that weird, ambiguous gaze. “i’ll drop some food off at your place after we’re done. that kimchi fried rice and those dumplings you like.” seungjoon says decisively, before pushing himself off from yuto’s back. “are you coming down with us, at least?”

“yeah, let’s go.” hyojin mumbles as he stands up. his muscles are sore, more likely a result of yesterday’s practice than today’s. the teachers went particularly hard yesterday. it was this constant series of ‘again, again, again’ for all these minuscule details that even yuto seemed to have a hard time catching. but they were much better afterwards because of it, so hyojin figures he shouldn’t complain.

he’s happy to listen to yuto and seungjoon babble about dance practice as they walk down the stairs; partially because he loves hearing the passion in their voices as they discuss how they want to present themselves, and partially because he doesn’t think he has the power to sustain a conversation right now. thankfully, neither of the two push him to say anything. he’s not sure whether it’s because he said he was getting a headache or because they can sense something is actually off with him, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

hyojin remembers to smile and say goodbye when he parts ways with seungjoon and yuto. then, he puts his phone on do not disturb before starting his trek home. he doesn’t want to talk to anyone just yet.

hyojin sits down on his bed and he doesn’t cry. he simply thinks.

sometimes he feels like a fake. he’s been told by dozens of people that his singing voice is so emotional. that it conveys a depth of feeling that’s heart wrenchingly beautiful when it needs to be, and technically perfect when it doesn’t. and he’s grateful for that, he truly is. but sometimes, he worries that it isn’t enough.

not that he doesn’t express emotions, because he does. he knows he does. anyone who’s observed hyojin long enough can see it. but the one thing he feels like he hasn’t openly expressed is sadness. which is understandable, after all, since he’s an idol. people come to him and his music for comfort, not to hear him complain. but he’s starting to believe that his absolute inability to convey this basic emotion is what’s causing all of his weird crises.

hyojin wishes he could cry. but he hasn’t cried in so long that he fears he no longer knows how to. bottled up emotions don’t free themselves easily, not when he’s tightened the cap so hard and so often that he’s not sure where the bottle ends and the cap begins.

‘don’t you feel bad?’ he chides himself.

‘yes,’ his inner voice croaks.

‘then prove it,’ he thinks. he challenges himself. he demands.

hyojin doesn’t cry, so he stands up. it’s time for him to get a grip on himself. he takes a shower and changes into comfortable clothes. he doesn't have anything else to do for the rest of the day, so he tries to take a nap as well. it’s hard at first — he’s oddly cold under the power of the air conditioning (that he never bothered to learn how to turn off) and his mind is still whirring with empty, useless, thoughts — but his sheer exhaustion overpowers it all as he falls into a shallow, troubled rest.

when he wakes up, his room is much darker then it was before. he reaches out for his phone, his hand haphazardly scrabbling for purchase on his nightstand before finally picking it up. squinting, he manages to read the time: 8:19 p.m.. cool, so he got around two hours of sleep. he figures that’s not too bad. he got four the other day when he was actually trying to go to bed.

for a moment, hyojin contemplates attempting to sleep again before deciding against it. he’s a little drowsy, but he’s not physically tired anymore. with that in mind, he gets up, slips his phone in his pocket, and opens his bedroom door. he could use a cup of water.

the lights are on somewhere out there, which hyojin guesses probably means that changyoon is on the couch playing kart rider or something. his assumption is proven to be correct when he spots changyoon, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, mumbling under his breath at his phone.

“what are you doing?” hyojin asks, turning towards the kitchen to pour himself some water. just before he looks away, he sees changyoon flinch. “n-nothing, i was just texting minkyun,” he hears changyoon stammer awkwardly.

hyojin pauses. suspicious. changyoon is definitely hiding something. hyojin considers confronting his roommate, but before he gets the chance to do so he feels his stomach grumble. right, he skipped dinner.

“did you already eat?” hyojin asks instead, taking his cup of water with him as he walks to the couch. it’s then that he notices the nearly empty takeout box of dumplings on the coffee table.

“never mind, i guess you have.” hyojin answers himself, putting his cup on the table and sitting down next to changyoon. “hmm, what should i eat?”

“oh, right!” changyoon says, popping the last dumpling in his mouth and standing up. “i ran into seungjoon and yuto on the way here. they gave me some takeout for you,” he explains as he walks to the fridge.

hyojin had forgotten about that, but he remembers now. “yeah, i think he said he was going to do that. kimchi fried rice and dumplings, right?” hyojin asks. he could really go for some dumplings right about now, especially after seeing changyoon eating.

changyoon freezes. “o-oh, so seungjoon told you,” he chuckles nervously, pulling a clear plastic bag out of the fridge and bringing it back to where hyojin is sitting on the couch. he’s trembling, which is odd. hyojin already has a very bad feeling about this, but he doesn’t want to say anything yet. surely changyoon wouldn’t do something so dumb as to -

“where are my dumplings?” hyojin demands, after opening the styrofoam container and only finding fried rice. he looks inside the empty plastic bag one more time, just to be sure (they’re not there), before glancing at the empty styrofoam container that changyoon was eating out of before. funnily enough, it’s the same type of takeout box as his fried rice container.

“you ate my dumplings?” hyojin shrieks, immediately grabbing a pillow from the couch. changyoon has already wisely retreated to the very end of the room, but hyojin wastes no time in lunging to where changyoon escaped to with agility akin to his deer nickname. changyoon futilely attempts to dart out of the way, but hyojin manages to grasp the collar of his shirt with one hand while he smacks changyoon with the pillow in his other hand. “what - were - you - thinking?” hyojin hisses, punctuating each word with a thump from the pillow. he notices that changyoon is covering his head, so he makes sure to hit the deserving food thief extra hard.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” changyoon wails as he drops to the ground to shield himself further. “i was hungry!”

“and you thought to take my food, you jerk?” hyojin yells, dropping and holding changyoon down with his knee while he continues to bash him with the pillow. “you didn’t even leave any behind for me!”

“i’m sorry, i’m sor- ow! stop hitting me, please, i’ll buy you more dumplings!” changyoon begs, and it’s enough for hyojin to graciously let changyoon go. “you better,” hyojin threatens, standing up. “you’re lucky i’m weak right now, you brat.”

“i’m sorry, what? you call that weak?” changyoon asks incredulously, sitting up and leaning back on his hands. “was that pillow made out of rocks?”

“if i hadn’t just woken up, and i wasn’t so hungry …” hyojin trails off.

“you know what, i don’t even want to think about it,” changyoon decides. “but the food stall closes at 10, so we should get going if you want the dumplings tonight.”

“i’m sorry, we?” hyojin asks incredulously. “why do i have to go out?

“don’t you want to personally make sure i get the right ones?” changyoon offers.

“no, because i can tell you right now which ones i want — pork, by the way — and if you forget you can text me.” hyojin says.

“but i don’t want to go outside alone! it’s dark, and it’s scary!”

“sucks for you, then, you shouldn’t have eaten my food in the first place. and since when have you been scared of the dark?”

“please?” changyoon asks. “i’ll buy you ice cream if you do.”

hyojin pauses. ice cream does sound really good right now. “okay, fine.” he decides. “but i’m not changing.”

“yeah, me neither. the food stall lady has known us for forever, though, so it’s probably fine.” changyoon reasons, standing up. “let me get my wallet and then we can go.”

“okay,” hyojin agrees. “i need to fix my hair anyways, it’s probably a mess.”

hyojin manages to tidy up his bedhead/warrior hair and find a cap in his room, but changyoon still hasn’t come out yet. “are you coming?” hyojin calls, walking out of his room to sit on the couch. he picks up his unfinished glass of water and takes a sip. he wouldn’t want to have damaged his throat after his screaming fit.

changyoon walks into the living room, looking sheepish. “so, um, how mad would you be if i told you that i think i left my wallet at the company?”

“... you’re serious.” hyojin deadpans incredulously.

“yeah, uh, i just realized i left my coat in the room where i did my vlive, and i normally carry my wallet in my pocket.” changyoon explains, before wincing. maybe he was expecting to get hit again?

hyojin sighs. “it’s fine. it’s on the way, anyway. let’s go?” he asks, before downing what’s left of his drink and standing up.

changyoon nods happily. “you’re the best and i love you?” he offers.

hyojin pushes changyoon. “ew. you can be sappy after i’ve eaten,” he laughs. “now get me some food.”

“come in with me?” changyoon asks, once they’re in front of WM. “i swear i saw the ghost last time, and i don’t want to face it alone.”

“well, why do i have to see it?” hyojin grumbles, but he opens the door for changyoon anyway. hyojin’s not heartless enough to ditch him, especially when he’s buying him food. but if he’s being really honest, he’d accompany changyoon regardless.

“what room did you leave your stuff in?” hyojin asks as they climb up the stairs, before coming to a realization.

“should we have asked the security guards for the keys?” hyojin pauses, before turning around. “wait, we should have, hold on, let’s go back -“

“wait!” changyoon calls, his voice amplified in the empty stairwell. hyojin reaches to cover his ears.

“oh, sorry, that was too loud,” changyoon realizes belatedly. “but trust me, we don’t need the keys.”

“what do you mean we don’t need the keys? the security guards always lock everything up after the office workers leave.” hyojin says, puzzled.

“minkyun’s in that room, he’s the one that told me i left my sweater there.” changyoon explains, as he continues to climb the stairs. instinctively, hyojin follows him.

“but why didn’t you tell me before? you could have told me that minkyun was there when you said that you left your wallet here.” hyojin asks.

“well i - uh, i forgot?” changyoon stammers.

hyojin frowns. changyoon is somehow being even more suspicious then when he ate hyojin’s dumplings, which is very confusing. something about his words are not adding up. he opens his mouth to ask something else, before being interrupted by changyoon.

“okay, we’re here!” changyoon exclaims, opening the door. except it doesn’t lead to the second or third floor like hyojin had expected.

“why are we on the roof?” hyojin asks, following changyoon before stopping in his tracks.

“oh hey, you’re here!” minkyun exclaims.

except it’s not just minkyun. the rest of the members are all there, bizarrely sitting in a circle on a large blanket on the roof. there’s various soda cans scattered around the edge of their huddle, and a couple of chip bags lie in the middle. if hyojin didn’t know better, he’d guess by the food that it was a poorly prepared picnic or a decently prepared sleepover.

“what …?” hyojin trails off in confusion.

next to him, changyoon breathes a sigh of relief and runs towards the rest of the members. “i am never doing this again. that was the most stressful hour or whatever of my life. i am incapable of lying, i swear he almost caught me twice, i have aged because of this -“

“oh, be quiet, this was your fault anyway.” minkyun snaps, but without a single hint of malice in his voice.

“so, um?” hyojin asks, frozen in place, as changyoon and minkyun bicker in the background. “what?”

“well, uh, this might sound pretty dumb, but you were really out of it in practice today.” jaeyoung starts, standing up and walking towards him. the rest of them do the same, abandoning their drinks and their snacks. “you were listening to what the teacher said and doing the dance moves correctly and everything, but it was like you weren’t actually there? you didn’t even say ‘bye’ back when minkyun and i left.”

darn. he was being obvious. hyojin opens his mouth, ready to give some kind of excuse, but seungjoon cuts him off.

“we wanted to ask you about it, but we didn’t know what to say and we didn’t want to make it awkward for you. and you mentioned how looking at the sky clears your mind, right? so we thought it would be nice to stargaze together? except it’s really cloudy …” seungjoon trails off.

hyojin looks up. seungjoon’s right, he can barely see the moon behind the clouds, let alone any stars. but the mere fact that his members came together and planned this in the first place is really, really nice.

hyojin looks around again and thinks. he knows for a fact that no one had chips at their dorm (seungjoon recently confiscated them all and donated them to the staff when he was feeling particularly sensitive about his self induced diet), so someone had went out and bought all the snacks so they’d have something to eat. someone had brought drinks so they wouldn’t get thirsty. someone had lugged this very big blanket up many flights of stairs so they’d have someplace clean to sit. someone had suggested doing this because they thought he felt bad, and someone had planned the event, even taking care to keep it a secret, to make him feel better. and they did this in their spare time, instead of practicing more or taking a well deserved break, for him.

they planned this all for him.

jaeyoung takes his silence as a bad thing, and hurriedly chimes in. “i mean, this might not have been what you were thinking of when you said you liked the galaxy, and we can always do something else! we don’t have a group practice tomorrow anyway, so we can do something fun tonight.”

“no, no! i’m just … this is good. actually, this is perfect. i - you didn’t have to do this, but it’s really thoughtful, and i?” hyojin buffers, completely lost for words.

seungjoon takes his arm. “you can just say thank you, and come sit with us.” he laughs, guiding hyojin back to their blanket where they’ve conveniently left a space for him to sit.

yuto hands him a coke as he takes his place, and hyojin wordlessly opens it and takes a sip. “thank you,” hyojin says, after a short pause. “i’m serious. this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“you’re always trying to take care of us, yeah? we can do this for you.” minkyun says, and it’s so thoughtful hyojin winces a little. he’s not in the right headspace to vent about his emotions right now. he’s not even sure if he has the right words for them. maybe later, when he has them sorted out in his head, he’ll share them with the others. but for now, he just wants to spend some time together, in each other's proximity.

hyojin normally looks to the sky to clear his head, but for once, his mind is blissfully empty. something about this entire situation brings him genuine peace and he’s extremely grateful for that. it’s not like he tries to overthink or overwork himself, but he somehow ends up overdoing things anyway. very rarely does hyojin let himself sit back and just do things. very rarely does hyojin let himself be content with just being enough, and not more. right here and right now, though, hyojin feels like enough.

“so that’s why changyoon ate my dumplings.” hyojin realizes belatedly.

the rooftop was silent before, but somehow it becomes even quieter. “changyoon stole your food?” yuto whispers in horror.

“okay, in my defence!” changyoon screams, raising his hand. “i wouldn’t have had to resort to this if you guys didn’t make me bring him here! you know i’m bad at lying, and you still chose me! i needed a reason to be nervous in front of him!”

“and you’re still alive?” seungjoon asks, shocked. “after eating his food?”

“barely.” changyoon complains. “he makes a pillow hurt.”

“i knew you wouldn’t be so dumb as to eat my food for no reason.” hyojin mutters under his breath.

“do you know how many times i nearly had a heart attack because of you?” changyoon begins, pointing an accusatory finger at hyojin. “when you came out of your room i was so stressed. we were all texting each other trying to make plans, and i was eating your food, and i had to pretend i was texting minkyun about something normal and not this whole surprise event. and then i had to make a dumb excuse to get you here, and i said i left my wallet in my coat — why would i even wear a coat, it’s summer?”

hyojin didn’t even notice that. probably because he was so caught up on the food he was missing that he didn’t even see the signs right in front of him.

“i realized it the second after i said it, but i’m so grateful you didn’t call me out for it. and then you asked me about the keys, and of course we didn’t need the keys because everyone was already here, so i had to make up another lie about minkyun, except it didn’t even make sense because i totally would have mentioned it before, and this was just an overall traumatic experience. kim hyojin, never ask me another question again.” changyoon finishes dramatically.

“but we wouldn’t have made you do this alone if you didn’t try to add hyojin to the group chat. this is technically your own fault.” minkyun points out, and hyojin frowns. “what groupchat?” hyojin asks.

“you didn’t get the notifications?” seungjoon asks, and hyojin shakes his head.

“so seungjoon tried to make a groupchat with all the members except you so we could figure out what to do together, right?” minkyun starts. “but changyoon, this absolute idiot, literally asks, ‘oh, why aren’t we just using the groupchat we already have’ and adds you. why do you think we left him out in the first place?”

“it was an honest mistake!” changyoon whines. “anyone could have done it!”

“but you did it.” minkyun teases, and changyoon stutters out excuses.

“wait, but you had no clue that we were doing this?” jaeyoung asks. “i figured we ruined it after we added you to the groupchat by accident.”

“i didn’t even get the notifications, though, are you -? oh.” hyojin says.

“what?” yuto asks.

“i turned my notifications off after i said bye to you and seungjoon.” hyojin realizes.

“then i didn’t even ruin anything! it didn’t have to be me in the first place!” changyoon screams. “this is so unfair!”

“but hey, at least you were successful.” seungjoon points out, and everyone else nods.

“the emotional trauma? that you put me through? what about that?” changyoon asks, but he’s interrupted by the sound of jaeyoung slapping his own arm.

“sorry, mosquito.” jaeyoung explains sheepishly.

“shoot, we forgot about bugs.” seungjoon sighs. “do you want to just go inside? we can order chicken or something.”

“actually, that sounds great right now. i haven’t had dinner yet, and i’m so hungry.” hyojin says happily.

“you didn’t have dinner? i literally brought you food!” seungjoon complains.

“okay, but after changyoon ate my dumplings, did you really think i was going to focus on eating over revenge?”

seungjoon pauses. “yeah, never mind. but still!”

“it’s okay, i’ll eat it later.” hyojin says. “but let’s order something in for now? and we should probably clean all this up, too.”

“we’re going inside? good, i’m getting cold.” yuto adds, standing up and picking up his empty coke can and a half eaten bag of chips.

“do you want to sleep over in the practice room?” minkyun suggests, laughing. “we’re already ordering chicken, this is basically our trainee days all over again.”

“you know what, i’m actually down for that.” jaeyoung says, grinning. “if they let us do it five years ago, they’ll let us do it now.”

“honestly?” hyojin asks, smiling one of his first real smiles. he hasn’t been this content for a while. “that sounds really, really good.”

it’s been a while, hyojin thinks as they clean up, since he’s been truly happy like this. it's been a while, he thinks, since everything has felt right. but here, in this space with five of the people he loves the most, he feels like enough. and for now, that’s all that matters.

#onf #on/off #hyojin #kim hyojin #onf fanfic #hyojin fanfic #other members are featured #onf hyojin #writing

6 notes · View notes

gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years ago

Note

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME: MontaDoc Edition? Pretty please? Or any MontaDoc content. I crave it. Much 💕

of course!!!!!!! sorry this has taken so long, but i sincerely hope you enjoy it!!! 💝💝💝

General:

How long will they last? - for fucking EVER!!!!!!

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - two words: mutual. pining. this period, often referred to as the “Beginning of Operation: T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. (Temporary Employment As Masters of Dad And Dad Sweethearts)” however, unbeknownst to anybody else in rainbow, by the time Operation: T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. had begun, gustave and gilles had already been together for a couple of years. how did they actually get together? about six months after the GIGN joined rainbow, gustave was in the middle of a mountain of paperwork when he heard someone clear their throat. he spun around to scold whoever it was for coming to medbay when they were sick (despite the fact that he was coming down with a nasty cold), only to be greeted with gilles leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. “gustave. you look as though you’re about to meet death for dinner. how can you expect to take care of others when you’re not taking care of yourself?” gustave just sighed and shook his head, muttering something about leaving him be for another couple hours so he could finish his paperwork, but gilles has other ideas. in mere moments, gustave goes from standing over his desk, organizing some files, to being held in gilles’ big strong arms. “wh- gilles! i-” he was cut off by his own yawn, and gilles smiled at him fondly. gustave felt himself blush, and he squirmed a little, but let gilles carry him to the GIGN quarters. as soon as it seemed like gilles was going to leave, gustave pulled him down for a kiss, then pushed their foreheads together and whispered “you’re going to carry me all this way and not even stay to make sure i don’t go back to my office?” gilles just grinned at him, climbing into bed beside him and wrapping his arms around him.

How was their first kiss? - ROMANTIQUE! and smelling of sickness but what can you do

Wedding:

Who proposed? - monty!! he decided to cook a romantic candlelit dinner at their apartment, and when he sees gustave come home from work, all ragged and exhausted, yet still with a glimmer of determination and subtle joy, he says the first thing that comes to mind: “will you marry me?” gustave froze, his cheeks still rosy and his hair sprinkled with snowflakes. “will i what?” gilles realized his mistake and flushed, stammering a response before gustave was standing in front of him, staring at him scrutinizingly. “gilles.” he started, reaching to intertwine their hands, bring them between their chests, “what did you say?” gilles gulped, then steeled himself and got down on one knee. “gustave kateb. love of my life, light of my days. the man i want to wake up next to every day for the rest of my life. the man who i adore with every fiber of my being. would you do me the honor of being my husband?”

Who is the best man/men? - for monty: bandit! for doc: lion (everyone but them thought it was a joke until the day of the wedding). dominic and olivier’s dual best man speech is the stuff of legends. there were tears, there was laughter, and there was an almost excessive amount of thinly-veiled sexual innuendos at various people in attendance (including both grooms; the best men were both drunk of their asses)

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - they actually fight over who gets to pick twitch! meanwhile rook is in the background like D: (don’t worry, it’s decided that he and twitch will be ring bearer and flower girl respectively) for monty: dokkaebi. for doc: finka

Who did the most planning? - they both did! though gustave focused on food and flowers, and gilles focused on the guest list and the venue (but they ran things by each other before any final decisions were made)

Who stressed the most? - gilles! he was so worried about their families not getting along that he actually prepared a “leave my husband and his family alone or so help me i will never speak to you again” speech

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - gilles’ racist, homophobic, french nationalist uncle (no one in the family likes him, so it wasn’t a big loss) (this uncle also made a surprise appearance at the family dinner where gilles introduced gustave to the rest of his family, and started yelling about “godamn immigrants” and other such bigotted statements, before gilles’ sister physically dragged him out of the house and threw him out the door. afterwards, up in the guest bedroom, gilles quietly tells gustave that it’s okay if he wants to leave, or break up, or anything, and gustave just laughs and tells him that if he wasn’t prepared for family members to express their distaste, he wouldn’t be dating a white man. he pressed a kiss to gilles’ temple, before whispering “although, he was right about my being an immigrant; it’s just that i was born in Paris and immigrated with my family to algeria, not the other way around. A for effort, though”)

Sex:

Who is on top? - gilles!!!! although gustave will occassionally ride him 👀👀👀

Who is the one to instigate things? - gustave is lowkey horny 24/7, but if gilles walks in on him bending over to get something from a cabinet, or tilting his head all the way back while drinking from his water bottle, thereby showcasing the way his throat moves as he swallows, he will lose his shit

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - okay i’m gonna change this one to an explanation of some things from below. i personally think doc lowkey a freak, and gilles is happy to oblige him if that’s what his lapin wants (although he’s not entirely sure how he feels about this “overstimulation” and “post-orgasm torture” and “cock & ball torture” stuff. specifically, he’s not sure he likes hurting gustave, but, while he probably won’t admit it out loud, he secretly adores making gustave cry. when he’s so helpless and powerless and mindless, and he’s begging for something, but for what he doesn’t really know. maybe it’s the knowledge that gilles is in complete control, that gustave trusts him to do this, to make him hurt and cry and just melt, the knowlege that gustave is completely reliant on him for his pleasure, his pain, and everything in between. it’s a heady thing, and gilles isn’t sure how he feels about it, but he’s pretty sure the warmth in his chest and the warmth in his gut are good signs

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - unless they’re doing some of the things mentioned above, or mayhaps some denial 👀👀👀 then yeah, everyone gets the same. they’re very considerate when they’re just doing vanilla

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children: btw, the rest of this is kinda set in a post-retirement au (idrk i just want them to have a farm and be peaceful). give it whatever context u want tho, i was just havin fun

How many children will they have? - they will have four cats and a dog, as well as 2 horses, a donkey, 5 cows, an alpaca, a rabbit, some ducks, a flock of sheep and goats, and the occasional visit from a herd of deer from the forest surrounding their little farm

How many children will they adopt? - since humans CANNOT, i repeat, CANNOT, give birth to the animals listed above, they’re all adopted

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - no one. the animals potty train themselves

Who is the stricter parent? - gilles sneaks them treats while gustave lectures them about dietary habits, so take your pick

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - whenever gilles leaves to run errands, one of the goats goes into a depression so deep and miserable that they’re utterly inconsolable until he comes back. once they hear the sound of the car in the driveway, this lil goat, lovingly named “Bastard” by gustave, will climb onto the roof of the house and scream his joy over gilles’ return to the heavens

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - they tag team on things like feeding the animals and cleaning out the barn, but gustave is much more organized about it

Who is the more loved parent? - the cats, dog, one of the horses, donkey, alpaca, rabbit, goats (except for Bastard), and deer all prefer gustave, though gilles is adequate in the event that gustave is busy with something else (although the alpaca and donkey hate his guts, and will escape their pastures to break into the house and be near gustave. gilles maintains that they’re both devil-spawn, but gustave says he’s just being dramatic and that Thamin (alpaca) and Albalatin (donkey) are complete angels who could do no wrong)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - animals have NOT unionized. yet.

Who cried the most at graduation? - idk if this counts, but when Bastard finally figured out how to get himself down from the roof after getting himself onto it, gilles cried for an hour

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - gilles lowkey does whenever thamin and albalatin escape to go out into the world and commit crimes, but only to make sure his husband doesn’t get upset when he finds out his precious creatures are hell beasts. certainly not out of anything resembling tolerance or *shudder* like

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - gustave, but gilles can make a mean bowl of cereal

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - gustave. gilles will eat something straight from the garden and gustave is like “DID YOU CHECK IF IT WAS RIPE?????? YOU COULD DIE FROM THAT YOU KNOW, THEN WHERE WOULD I BE???”

Who does the grocery shopping? - gustave. gilles is something of a hermit in their town, and people often remark about the “sweet, kind doctor and his utter brick wall of a husband”

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever Bastard goes a day without doing something Bastardous

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - both lowkey prefer salad, since they care for many animals that would often get used for their meat, and they can’t bear to think about hurting any of their babies

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - gilles. the people in town helped him when he burst into the little grocery store all panicked like “I NEED TO MAKE MY HUSBAND A SURPRISE DINNER BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE”

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - gustave. gilles like being at home, but city-boy over here thinks that restaurants are a weekly luxury

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - neither. it was thamin and albalatin, attempting to frame gilles for yet another felony

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - gustave. everything is color coded. sex toys included

Who is really against chores? - gilles. gustave films him whenever he actually does clean and yells things like “go white boy go!!” and sends them to twitch for her T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. scrapbook

Who cleans up after the pets? - they both do, but gilles gets stuck with shit duty more often than not

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - gilles, once. gustave walked in, sniffed the air, then glared at him until he actually swept whatever it was up and threw it away

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - gustave “we can’t have guests over, the house is a mess” kateb

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Bastard. he then proceeded to eat it

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - gustave and his hour-long skincare routine

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - gustave, bc sadiqi the dog (not to be confused with sadiqi the kitten), or Big Sadiqi (kitten sadiqi is Little Sadiqi) is his, gilles, and he will not allow his precious boy to be influenced by such creatures as Bastard

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - they get little sweaters for the animals. that is all

What are their goals for the relationship? - joke: gustave always says “the White Man’s money” despite the fact that his family is richer than gilles’. woke: mutual happiness, comfort, and healing

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - gustave. after 11 am, thamin and albalatin decide they’ve had enough and break in to lay down on the bed next to him. gilles banishes himself to the couch for a week

Who plays the most pranks? - Bastard, thamin, and albalatin. although gustave did dye the sheep’s wool (while it was still attached to them) different colors and patterns and, for the ones who were perfectly content to sit still and be held, replicas of famous paintings (his favorite artist is monet, in case you forgot that he’s french)

#ask #r6scaliber #r6s doc #r6s montagne #doc/montagne #ass alert!#thank you for interacting!

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omgviolette12 · 4 years ago

Text

Helena’s Skin

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 4500+

Pairing: Original female character of color/Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Angst, Horror

I’ve also posted this on AO3

There’s pictures there, in case you want some bonus content.

Story Playlist, for optimal reading experience : Here

Phew..this plot bunny was running around for a HOT minute! I'm not sure what my obsession is with stories that deal with betrayal of some sort...but I think I'm just a slut for some angst. Also, I've been listening to a ton of silent hill soundtracks, which put me in the mood to write something depressing. And goodness is that game good. This story is largely inspired by it, with some of the dialogue, text, and locations from the original game interwoven with my story. I changed things up a lot to follow the flow of my narrative though.

-----

Tom dreamt of her again that night.

Pale, blue-tinted skin. Dark sunken eyes. Her stiff, swaying feet. He could even see the chipped red nail polish on her toes with clarity.

The cruel memory was always, without fail, in perfect detail.

Over the years though, he had slowly come to accept it. The pills never helped to stop the nightmares, and no amount of avoiding sleep was going to help his case anyway.

He liked to think of it as penance.

As always, he jumped up from the bed in cold sweat. And from the cross look on his girlfriend’s face, he must’ve woken her up on accident as well.

“I’m...I’m sorry Jen,” He turned a bit to rub at her naked shoulder, and hoped the action would coax her back to sleep, “ Just another one of those falling dreams..”

“Hmrrph..” She shrugged off his hand, and turned to face away from him. Thankfully, it didn’t take much for her eyes to close once again.

Tom sighed, and rubbed at his face tiredly. Whenever he had that dream...he could never fall back to sleep. It was as if all the emotions of that day were renewed, and it was hard to shake them off until morning.

His therapist suggested he acknowledge what he felt, during this time. The sorrow. The regret. The guilt. The gut-wrenching pain.

And if he were to be completely honest, it worked most days.

Often, he would find himself scribbling away at his personal journal at 3 am, nursing a cup of tea.

He wrote about how much he wished he could reverse time. The words he could have taken back, and the words he could have said instead. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, and that he regretted ever leaving her.

Helena. Her name was Helena, but he could never bring himself to write it out. Just referred to her vaguely with pronouns.

But tonight...he couldn’t even bring himself to write. The dream was especially vivid this time around, to a disturbing degree. He could even smell the stench.

What’s worse, that smell was just as he remembered it three years ago.

Tom resisted the urge to throw up at the thought of it, and stumbled out of bed to the bathroom. He turned on the sink, and splashed the coldest water he could onto his face.

That probably wasn’t the best thing to do, either. He could still see her, swaying in that dark room against his closed eyelids.

His eyes shot open immediately, and he found himself dry heaving into the sink.

“Fuck…” he cursed silently, as his eyes began to well with tears.

It was going to be another one of those nights, and the only thing he could do was suffer through the dark memories until morning.

Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen. There was little tea could do at this stage, but it was a welcomed distraction.

“You��re really leaving...aren’t you?”

Her voice was soft, softer than it usually was.

All the yelling and screaming must have destroyed every malice she could have mustered in her body.

Her dark brown eyes were downcast, red-rimmed with sorrow.

“Lena. No...Helena. I never wanted for any of this to happen.” Although Tom intended to sound a bit caring, the words left his mouth with harsh coldness.

“I love Jen too much. Too much to stay...I’m sorry. Please understand.”

His wife looked up at him then. Her chapped lips trembled immensely with bridled anger. And even though her long hair was rather unkempt, he could still see the glare she sent his way through her bangs.

“Five...f..five years Tom. You’re r-really going to...to throw it all away for that..for..for her?”

Tears spilled from her eyes as she stuttered in anguish, and she fisted the fabric of her dress painfully as she continued, “ I... I love you so much, Tommy. I never meant anything I said...I was sick and -“

“Stop with that!” Helena was startled, and she stared up at him with wide eyes. Throughout their argument, this was the first time he had yelled so loudly at her.

His eyes were narrowed, shoulders squared. He was the embodiment of hostility.

“Don’t say things that you don’t fucking mean.”

Tom didn’t wait for her to reply. He grabbed his jacket, and left the house with a slam to the door. He’d pick up his belongings later, after he cooled down.

Although Helena infuriated him, he could never forgive himself if he hurt her physically. A part of him still loved her, even if it was small.

They were married for five years after all. He couldn’t necessarily forget it all, no matter how much he wished it was possible.

Their marriage...it was a happy one, at first. He remembered the day when he met her, how stunned he was by her beauty and tenderness.

He loved how her brown eyes looked against the sunlight, and the lone dimple that revealed itself when she smiled. He loved her gentle voice, when she would tell him about her day. Everything. He loved everything about this woman. Down from the hair, right to the toes.

However… things took a sharp turn for the worst when she became ill.

The doctors were clueless about what it was. It attacked her body so quickly and suddenly, no one could do much to help her ailing health.

Slowly but surely, she began to lose her glow.

Her smiling face was replaced with an ugly snarl, her body became skin and bones, and her kind words transformed into insults that aimed to shred at his heart.

She pushed him away with every chance she could, when all he wanted was to be there for the woman he loved.

So, who could blame him for straying?

Jennifer was kind, new, and beautiful. Everything that Helena was, but now wasn’t.

It didn’t matter to him that she was good friends with his wife. Surely, Helena would rather it be Jen than some stranger.

But now, she wanted to take back all those words of hatred, and backtrack like a coward. She begged for him to stay, despite all the times she pushed him away.

Her insults drove away the guilt whenever he went to Jennifer for solace. But if she decided to just take it all back now… where did that leave him?

Tom stewed like that for hours, walking about the neighborhood before he decided to make his way back to the house. It was late morning when he left, but the skies were already starting to darken.

Time flies when you’re upset, it seemed.

He readied and steeled himself to face her again. He was going to pack the rest of his things, and then leave.

For good this time.

But he hated that his heart still ached at the thought of it, despite everything that she put him through.

Tom entered the house cautiously, and searched for any signs of his wife. When he left, she was still sitting on the living room couch. Hours had gone by, so he wasn’t sure why he still expected her to be there.

Worst case scenario, she was in their bedroom. With how erratic she’d been acting lately, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she tried to prevent him from leaving.

Best case scenario, she was asleep in there. Her illness made her extremely weak, which caused her to sleep more often than not.

Tom found himself in front of the door, hand frozen on the knob.

He was tired, tired from all the fighting. If possible, he wanted to ignore her as he quietly gathered his things together.

With these thoughts in mind, he opened the door -

To the sight of Helena’s feet hovering above the floor.

“Tom, Tom? Thomas!”

He jumped from the kitchen table, and knocked his knee on it in surprise.

He grimaced, and looked up at Jennifer who gave him a worried look.

“Why are you out here? You even fell asleep..”

Tom looked around his surroundings, disoriented. He fell asleep?

He remembered coming to the kitchen to make some tea for his nerves. But before he realized it…

“I’m not sure how that happened...I’m sorry Jen.”

“..It’s okay, Tom. Are you feeling okay..?” She placed her hand on his forehead, her voice tinged with concern, “ You can call out sick, you know? Talk to me,”

Tom stiffened. He contemplated many times, talking to Jennifer about his dreams. But...she had been badly affected by Helena’s death as well.

She was friends with her, after all. Jen felt just as much guilt and shame that he did.

But Jennifer refused to talk about it, about her. Her way of coping was to forget Helena ever existed for her own sanity.

They were both monsters, monsters who drove the one they cared about to her death. They truly deserved one another.

Tom only shook his head at her question, and attempted to reassure her with a weak smile, “I’m fine, honest. But I’ll call out today...I’ve been working too much at the office.”

Jennifer didn’t pursue the topic any further, and returned his smile. “ Thank gosh, you’ve been taking way too many hours. Just relax for once,”

He watched as she moved about the kitchen through tired eyes, to fix herself some coffee. “There’s some mail on the table, by the way. I picked them up before I came in here.”

Now that she mentioned it, there was a small pile of envelopes on the table. He looked at them all indifferently, and dismissed the majority of them as junk or bills.

“..I’ll sift through them. Make me a cup as well, would you?”

He dragged the pile in front of him, and wiped his eyes to take away some of the droopiness.

He cracked his neck, and massaged his shoulder with a hand as he began to look through the mail. Like he expected, there were some bills, some junk… and..

A beige, worn out envelope that was sealed with red wax.

But the look of the envelope wasn’t what caught his eyes. It was the name on it that caused Tom’s throat to go dry, and his sweat to grow cold.

From: Helena

There wasn’t a return address, just her name.

Was this some sort of sick joke?

Unless it was possible for a dead woman to send letters, then the likelihood that it was his Helena that sent it was extremely low.

Still though...his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Why did he feel so terrified?

First the nightmares, now this.

“Hey..everything okay?” Jen placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and sat at the table, “You’ve been staring at that for a good minute now...is the bill that much?”

She took a sip of her own coffee, her voice lightly teasing.

“What? Oh, no, it’s nothing,” Tom quickly snapped out of it, and tossed the envelope aside as casually as he could, “Just some junk.”

Tom wasn’t sure what possessed him to take the envelope with him on his run.

Despite everything that told him to leave it closed, to leave it unread, he also felt the urgent need to keep it by his side.

He ran through a secluded park, with the envelope stuffed in his jacket pocket. If he was going to read it, he didn’t want Jennifer to know. Especially if it was actually from... her.

There was a drizzle earlier on, so the park benches were rather wet. However, he didn’t care as he plopped down to sit, and reached into his jacket pocket for the envelope.

A stray droplet of water from the overhanging tree fell on the envelope, as he sat and stared at it in silence.

Tom felt that he was probably overreacting. No, he most definitely was. There was no way on earth it was from his Helena. The same Helena who he still loved, to this very day. The same woman who took her own life that fateful evening.

He was only going to set himself for extreme disappointment if he hoped for that much.

Tom held his breath, and tore open the envelope without any regard for the wax seal.

And as he read its contents, the entire world came to a standstill.

In my restless dreams,

I see that town.

Silent Hill.

You promised me you'd take me

there again someday.

But you never did.

Well, I'm alone there now...

In our 'special place'...

Waiting for you...

Waiting for you to come to see me.

I know I’ve done some terrible things to you.

Something you’ll never forgive me for.

I wish I could change that, but I can’t.

I just...didn’t want you to see me like that anymore.

That ugly, repulsive me.

I was so angry all the time, and I

struck out at everyone I loved most.

Especially you, Tommy.

That's why I understand if you hate me, even now.

But I want you to know this.

I'll always love you.

And I want to see you, no matter how long it takes.

I’ll always be here…waiting.

With love,

Lena

He remembered her handwriting. Her letters were always scribbled elegantly, but felt rushed at the same time. This was written by her. There was no doubt about it in his soul. He could even hear her gentle voice as he read it.

The emotions Tom currently felt was like a kaleidoscope. Confusion, hope. Sorrow, fear. And above all, excitement.

Excitement, at the small, unlikely chance that she was still alive.

Even if it didn’t make sense, even if it went against all reason. Even if he had been the one to pull her dead body from the ceiling himself.

If he had the chance to see her again...just once more…

He was going to take it.

-----

Tom vaguely remembered that town she spoke of, in the letter.

Silent hill.

They went there once, for their honeymoon. It was a foggy little town, ways out in the middle of nowhere. Although it was scarcely populated, it was beautiful.

Helena had a strange obsession with the town, and she begged him constantly to take her back. But he was the type to enjoy the hustle and bustle of people, and the town was far too quiet for his liking.

Quiet to the point of being unsettling.

So although she begged him practically every year, he would always dredge up some excuse as to why they couldn’t go.

But now here he was, on his way to that very town against all sense.

“This place...isn’t it a bit too creepy for a resort?” Jennifer’s voice broke the silence in the car, and reminded him that he was not alone. Her eyes were trained outside the window, with furrowed brows.

Tom ground his teeth in frustration. He couldn’t come up with a proper excuse, as to why he wanted to leave so suddenly without arousing suspicion.

So...he disguised the trip as a mini-vacation, for the both of them. It would have been extremely preferable if he came alone... but he’d figure something out, eventually.

“It’s supposed to be a quiet, peaceful getaway. We’ve been needing some of that for a while now,” Tom said, in a nonchalant tone. “Besides, it’s only for a day or two.”

“Eh...I guess,” Jennifer still sounded thoroughly unconvinced, as they passed by the dilapidated welcome sign of the town. “I just thought it’d be, I don’t know...well kept?”

“It’s a part of the charm.” Tom wasn’t sure if he wanted to convince her, or himself with that statement.

Jen had a point. It’s been years since he came to this place, but he remembered that there was a decent amount of people that lived here.

Although the area was indeed very quiet...it definitely wasn’t a ghost town like he was seeing.

They were well inside the town now, but they still had yet to see anyone. The oppressive fog didn’t help matters either. He glanced down at the map on his lap, just to make sure they were going in the right direction.

“Hey...do you think we should just turn around? It looks pretty abandoned,”

Jennifer worried at her lip, her expression uncertain.

“...Like I said. A part of the charm. We’ll see some people, eventually.”

He could feel her anxiety from the passenger seat, and it started to affect his own mood.

The only thing that kept him from turning the car around, was Helena. The prospect of possibly seeing her again was too great a temptation.

But the question is...where was she, exactly?

Helena mentioned something about a ‘special’ place in the letter. That she’d be waiting for him there. But there were just so many possibilities… because this whole town was their special place.

Did she mean the park, by the lake? They would spend hours sitting on the bench...just the two of them, staring at the water. In their own little world.

Could Helena truly be alive...waiting for him there? The man who betrayed her so cruelly?

“Tom...Tom!!”

At Jen's sudden screech, Tom hit the brakes immediately, which caused the car to lurch forward violently.

He looked at her, as his heart thrummed against his chest, “What, what is it!”

“There.. right there, there was... there was..!”

She looked absolutely terrified, as she stared outside of the passenger window.

“Jen, calm down! What did you see?”

She didn’t look at him at all, and continued to stare outside the window, “In the fog. I saw a lady..and she.. she looked like… she was just right there..!”

Tom couldn’t make sense of what she wanted to say at all. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and addressed her once again, “I know you’re paranoid, Jen. But please, just calm down. It was probably just a resident.”

He really wished he came here alone all the more.

Jennifer was really shaken up, for whatever reason. And she went silent for the rest of the ride. Though, he certainly wasn’t about to complain about that.

Eventually, they saw a large building in the distance, right alongside the lake they’d been driving by.

Lake View Hotel. The same hotel where he stayed with Helena, on their honeymoon.

“...We’re here.”

Tom parked right by the curb of the sidewalk, a reasonable distance from the building.

But...something wasn’t quite right.

When he first came here with Helena, he clearly remembered that the hotel was on the other side of the lake, and they had to cross it with a rowboat. It was surrounded by a body of water, after all. And it was only accessible by a boardwalk.

However, the building was on this side instead. Completely opposite from what he remembered.

He decided not to think too deeply about it, though. Years had passed, and things might’ve changed.

“Wait, we’re getting out here?!” Jennifer asked in disbelief, her voice raised. The area was run-down, foggy, and quite frankly, disgusting. Tom couldn’t even blame her for her discomfort.

“Yes, Jen. There’s nowhere else to park,” he said, and exited the car first. “Come on, before it starts to get dark.”

Jennifer left the car with extreme hesitancy, and crossed her arms to hug herself. “Tom...this...this is like a freaking ghost town! Are you sure we can’t just...go somewhere else?” She tried to reason with him...but it was like he was another person entirely when he replied.

“If that’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you. Take the car.” He answered curtly, and began to walk ahead of her.

“I...what? Wait, please, Tom!” She ran up to him, and grabbed his arm, “What do you mean take the car?! You know I can’t drive. And I can’t just leave you behind! This...this isn’t like you,” Jennifer attempted to turn him towards her, but he remained stiff.

“...Did you ever really know me, Jen?”

When he finally looked at her, Jennifer took a step back due to his scary expression. “Because I don’t think you do. Not like Lena did anyway.”

“Len...Helena? Why..what does she have to do with this?!”

Jen immediately went on the defensive, and matched his hostile energy.

“She has everything to do with this! You were her friend, and she was my wife. Yet you refuse to even talk about her-”

“She killed herself! She left us behind! Even before that, she treated you like shit! She broke your heart...and I was the one who picked up the fucking pieces!”

The argument had escalated extremely quickly. But Tom didn’t care.

“How..how fucking dar-”

Tom didn’t even get to finish his sentence. He had blinked his eyes for even less than a second.

And then she was gone.

Tom was stunned, and didn’t register what happened.

His mouth was left open as the sentence died on his lips.

“Huh..?”

He looked around disoriented, whiplashed, and confused.

What? How? Where..What?

These were the questions that ran rampant inside his mind, as he looked about frantically for the woman he was just fighting with.

Jennifer was just right there, in front of him. He even remembered her angered expression clearly. But he had barely blinked his eyes before she disappeared into thin air.

She didn’t even scream.

Tom’s bones were weak from fear and confusion. He felt nauseous.

“..Jen? Jennifer? Jennifer!” He began to walk ahead, almost running, and screamed into the fog.

He walked around the area, and yelled her name like that for what felt like hours. But what answered him back were the endless echoes beyond the mist.

“Where...where the hell..?” Tom was out of breath, his body wrought with fear and exhaustion. He brought his hands to his knees and hunched over.

He came here to find Helena. He just wanted to see his wife again, to talk to her one last time. Even if it were some sort of delusion he concocted to stay sane.

But now..even Jennifer was...

He tried not to think about that possibility. Jennifer had to be alright. She had somewhere in this godforsaken town.

Tom looked up from his knees, and up at the large building ahead. Lakeview hotel.

He was going to start there.

Inside the hotel was a stark contrast to the rest of the town. While the outside was in a state of disrepair...the inside of the hotel remained untouched by time. In fact...it was just as he remembered.

The only difference was...the lights were almost dim to the point of darkness, and he needed to use his phone light for added visibility.

“Jennifer..? Are you in here?” Tom called out, as he walked the halls of the hotel. He passed the receptionist’s desk, and moved towards the elevator in the distance.

Despite the apparent lack of proper electricity, it still seemed to function perfectly.

According to the elevator, there were six floors in total.

And without hesitation, he immediately chose the third floor.

Jennifer could have been on the first two floors, for all he knew. He could have searched every room, every corner.

However..he and Helena stayed in room 312 for their honeymoon.

It was a beautiful room, he remembered. There were large windows, and the view of the lake was extraordinary.

As Tom felt the elevator move, and watched as the numbers slowly rose to three...he recalled a memory.

“Goodness...isn’t it beautiful, Tommy?”

Tom watched as his beloved sat by the window, her hand pressed against the glass.

“I’m so glad we came here...it’s peaceful.”

He laughed, and moved closer to sit next to his wife. He draped his arms around her shoulders, and pulled her closely to his chest.

“I think it’s a bit too peaceful, though. I’m not sure how you convinced me to come, but,”

Tom breathed in the scent of her hair, and closed his eyes. “I agree, it is beautiful. Hazy and mysterious, just like a dream. It reminds me of you.”

Her embarrassed laugh echoed throughout the room, and she nuzzled her head further into his neck. “Hehe...you’re such a charmer.”

She tightened her arms around his body. Her next words were whispered faintly, but he heard her clearly through the quiet of the room.

“But if this is a dream...I don’t ever want to wake up.”

Tom stood inside the room. By the large window, was a figure.

Her hair was a short, dusty blonde, and she wore a white floral dress.

The same dress that Helena wore that day on their honeymoon.

However...his wife was far from blonde.

The only blonde he knew was Jennifer.

“Jen..Jennifer? Is that you..?” She turned to look at him, instead of the window.

As soon as he saw her face, his suspicions were confirmed.

“Oh.. oh thank goodness,” Tom breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that his hunch was correct. He didn’t know why she suddenly appeared in this room, but was pleased that he found her this quickly.

“Jen, you were right. We..we shouldn’t stay here…”

Jennifer only looked at him with a confused expression, and approached him with an air of worry.

“Tommy, did something happen to you? Are you...confusing me with someone else?”

Tom looked at her like she was crazy. “What? Jen, what are you on about..? And why are you wearing that..”

Jennifer had never, not once, referred to him as ‘Tommy’ in the three years they had been together. That was Helena’s endearment, and no one else’s.

She giggled, the sound of it melodic and gentle. “Oh, Tommy...you were always so forgetful. Remember that time, when you got lost trying to find our room at this hotel? I almost had to call a search party!”

She laughed once again, this time unrestrained. He recognized that beautiful laughter.

“Aren’t…” Tom’s throat felt impossibly dry. “Aren’t you Jennifer?”

Jennifer went silent. Her smile deepened, and her eyes darkened from their previous shade of blue.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. I’m here for you, Tom.”

He didn’t move an inch as she approached him.

Slowly, she removed the straps of her dress.

He allowed her to take his hand, and she placed it on top of her naked chest.

Tom didn’t realize it, but his face was drenched with tears. He squeezed the softness of her flesh, and his nails dug to the point it drew blood.

It was warm. He held his blood-stained fingers up to his face.

Before him, stood a woman with dark brown eyes, that would reflect beautifully against the sun.

Before him, stood a woman with the gentlest voice.

Before him, stood a woman with long dark hair, that ended right below her shoulders.

Helena smiled a sickly sweet smile. She took his hand once again, and moved it to cup her face.

“...See? I’m real.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic #Tom Hiddleston fandom #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #silent hill #silent hill 2

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mrs-i-have-too-many-biases · 5 years ago

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Lee Minho// I love you, you know?

Fluff prompt: none, this was inspired by an Instagram post.

Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Word count: 1,1k

[01:09AM] Sometimes, life is just against you. And right now that was exactly what it felt like. Your boss kept pointing out the mistakes you made, even though on the inside, you knew that you did a good job. Your car broke down, which results that you had to walk all the way home, in the tall heels that you wore to work.

And to top that the grumbling sounds of the thunderstorm that came closer didn’t bring you any comfort. You usually loved your life. Your job is something that you always wanted to do, you have a nice apartment and a great boyfriend, Minho. Sadly he wasn’t around a lot, but you understood, because they were preparing, once again, for another comeback.

You were worried that Minho would overwork himself, but he’d often say: ‘If I’m overworking myself, then what the hell is Chan doing then?’ You would just sigh and walk away from the conversation, knowing it wouldn’t be any use to argue against him, knowing fully well that you couldn’t win from his sassy remarks.

You loved those remarks, they made you laugh when used at the right time, but Minho slipped those past his lips more often than he’d realise. It made you sad that he didn’t wanted to listen to you and that it felt like he didn’t care enough to make you not worry too much about him.

You couldn’t even come up with the number of time that you fought about it. And usually it would just end up with you going to bed and fall asleep, sometimes even because of crying for hours.

Now that you were at home you just sat on the couch, blankly staring at the tv. Happiness wasn’t something you felt in a while, that may sound very depressing, but you couldn’t help but feel like it.

Before you knew it, the door opened and your boyfriend sighed tiredly as he dropped his duffle bag on the ground and kicked off his shoes. He cocked his head in confusion, wondering why the lights were still on. He peeked his head through the doorway, feeling his heart skip a beat when he saw you. He knew that he didn’t say it a lot, or show it well, but he really loves you. He really freaking does.

His appearance seems cold and unapproachable, which made him a little sad and he beat himself up for it, because he knew that you wouldn’t come with your problems to him, even though you two have been dating for years. His smile that was resting on his face faded when he didn’t get a reaction out of you.

Usually when he comes home this late, you would be fast asleep and ready to snuggle with him after a tiring day. There were days like this where you would stay up and wait for him and the two of you would cuddle on the couch and sit in silence after you hugged him tightly.

Minho scanned your face and didn’t spot a sign of emotions, he was worried, that’s for sure.

He decided to just walk up to you and sit down, hoping that you would tell him what was wrong, hating the fact that you were bothered by something and he wasn’t able to help you.

It didn’t take you very long to break down. Everything just seemed like too much. Minho was taken by surprise by the sudden breakdown and quickly brought you into his arms.

“Are you sad?” He asked. When you didn’t answer like he was afraid of he just picked you up and brought you to your shared room.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a small voice as he carried you around the apartment. He didn’t reply and just told you to sit down as he went out of the bedroom to get something. When he came back, he spread the blanket that he carried over your bed, before picking you and laying you in the centre of it. He tucked you in like you were a human burrito, earning a slight giggle from you, asking him once again what he was doing.

He helped you sit up straight after he tighten you up, so you couldn’t move your upper body. He sat in front of you and kissed your face on every place he could find. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, making you fall forward to do so.

He chuckled tiredly, kissing your head.

“I know I’m not around a lot, that I seem cold and unapproachable, but please remember that I love you very much. I love you, you know? You give me so much strength and support to do what I love and I love you for that from the bottom of my heart. And I am so sorry that I’m not there for you when you need me. I know you aren’t always happy and that you won’t tell me what’s wrong. Probably thinking that I have enough shit on my plate, but I want to be there for you. I will make more time for you, because I can’t bear to see you like this again.” Minho whispered as he has his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“Who are you and where did tsundere Minho go.” You joked, trying to sit back up. When you sat back, you noticed the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, making you gasp.

“Get me out of this, I want to hug you! You’re crying!” You whined, wiggling around to free yourself from the big blanket. Minho laughed slightly through his tears. And as soon as he freed you, you dragged him down in a hug so the two of you would be laying down.

“I love you so much, I know I don’t really talk to you, but I guess that’s my fault. You’re the best thing that happened to me and I wish that we had more time for each other, but I cherish every single second we have together, even if we’re fighting, I’d rather fight with you than not be around you.”

“Ieuw, that’s so greasy.” He mumbled in the crook of your neck.

“Alright, I’m going-“

“No!” He whined, pulling you back down.

“Just let me love you like I should.” He whispered.

“Honey, you always did. I love you.” You said kissing his lips softly.

“I love you too baby, more than you will ever know.”

Gifs aren’t mine.

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nico-idc · 4 years ago

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random vent because i'm numb rn and feel like it

This is a vent post, ill probably talk about su!cide, self h*rm, eating disorders and depression. I’ll also cuss a lot, and things will not be censored. Also, this may seem insensitive to people experiencing any of this, sorry about that. Dont read this if youre triggered by that.

Also, this is my experience with mental health. Everyone deals with it differently.

So, If anyone doesnt know, I have depression and anxiety. And right now, I’m feeling numb as it’s often described by people with depression. But, numb isn’t a very good description. I can still feel. I’ll still smile if you tell me a joke, or if something funny is on a video. I’ll still cry if there’s something super sad. Emotion is just watered down. I feel it, but not as much as I should. Me and my boyfriend were talking, and i couldnt tell him I loved him. It’s not becuase I dont love him, but I just cant feel much of anything, so I dont want to tell him I loved him. Becuase If i did that, I felt as though I was lying. The funniest thing is, I randomly started crying. Still felt nothing, but hey, I had tears streaming down my face. Who fucking knows why.

I havent been doing to great for a while now, but this is the worst i’ve ever gotten. Ive never felt numb before. I mean, I’ve felt myself starting to go through the motions, but i’ve never gone completely numb before. And before this i’ve had a few mental breakdowns. Hell, I’ve sat in a corner twice in the past month or so doing nothing but sobbing and begging myself not to move so I dont grab something sharp and cut myself. (I did not relapse, don’t worry). and recently I completely broke down over simply eating a cereal bar, got through it, ate it. I’m good now.

Figures. That does seem to be my experience. Oh no, big bad issue one time, then magically I just talk myself out of my bullshit, and im fixed. Ha ha, yet I act like I have all these issues. I mean, I didnt even attempt to starve myself, just thought “oh, friends and family wont let me” and didnt. Had a breakdown about a year later, been fine since. Cut for a few months, went to therapy for a few months, stopped cutting. had a few breakdowns about a year or two later, then was fine. was suicidal for a while, went to therapy for a bit, was happy for months. Had breakdowns every now and then, fine now.

ha ha, first time I say alot of this is online. Figures. I’ve done that a lot too. My boyfriend has found out a bit about my depression through this site. Becuase I cant talk to my boyfriend about my shit, but hey random people on the internet! hear about my problems.

So on another note, I recently found a song that describes part of depression pretty well. It’s called “i’m not dead” by boyinaband. it’s linked below, I’ll copy paste the lyrics, and explain how I relate, and what the lyrics mean to me, becuase why not? (lyrics will be in bold)

youtube

I'm not dead

I'm not fixed, but I'm not giving up yet

Basically, this means that im still here, im still depressed, but I’m still trying to fight depression.

I'm sick of saying that I still don't have anything done

I hate telling friends I'm trying something just to give it up

I never commit to anything, I just say I’ll do something, then decide I dont want to.

I'm still unsure of my emotional state

I'm still incapable of focusing lately

I don't feel like creating

I'm tired of asking Google how to find motivation

I’ve been on break from writing for months now. tried to get back to it, lost concentration. I think this is self explanatory.

I don't think I've ever made

Something that's as good as I'm capable of

Ha, I dont put in enough effort and commitment to make something as good as possible.

I hate not having a reason to look my best

I only ever take care of myself with the intent to show the internet

I mean, I dont try to show the internet, but I only take care of myself when other people will see me.

If what made me successful was an imposed sense of stress then

I am so so glad that I hated myself

The only thing that makes me do things is extreme stress.

I didn't luck into this position

I struggle with decisions

I mean, im not in any high position, but I do struggle with decisions.

I wouldn't be my own friend

I'm too inconsistent

I’m inconsistent as hell. I’m in like 10 group chats, don't talk in any of them for months, then just show up like “hi, havent talked to you all in ages, but hi”.

Without immense pressure nothing ever gets finished

If these words make it to your ears it'll be a fucking miracle.

Yep. I went on whole rant about this on wattpad. Without pressure to do something, I don’t do it.

I'm fortunate to know more good people than most do

I wish I had more friends I could be physically close to

I dont personally have a lot of friends that dont live in my city, so the last line isnt an issue, but I do know a lot of good people”

I'm pretty good at like 20 different skill sets

At the expense of never being great at any one of them

I’m good at quite a few things. Drawing, math, even writing. But im not great at it. I’m average.

I wish this beat hit harder

I wish more syllables rhymed

I know 99 percent of people really don't mind

I dont personally relate to this, seeing as I dont make music.

I think collaborating forced me to finish things

'Cause I was terrified of wasting famous people's time

Oh yeah. Group projects would not get done if i wasnt scared of wasting my partner’s time.

I wish I could focus on what I define priority

I wish I was as grateful as I want to be

Dont really relate to these things

I wish I knew more people who were mentally stable

But if I did,

I wouldn't let them waste their time on me while I'm disabled

Oh yeah. Id love to have a friend who isnt depressed, but I wouldnt let them see that im fucked up becuase i dont wanna drag them down.

I feel alone

I know I'm not

I have a lot of friends, but I still fell alone in this world

I used to talk to lots of people.

Lately I've stopped

They didn't deserve it,

I've been a terrible friend.

But I couldn't bear to let myself become boring to them

I ignore group chats all the time. no reason. Probably shouldnt.

I don't let myself get my hopes up.

I love people who do.

Something good happens? what could go wrong? that is my thought precess.

I never know if what I say I feel is the truth

I have no damn Idea what I think, so its so hard to know what the truth in my head is.

I wish I didn't instinctively try to be less specific

So more people could relate, when they read along with the lyrics.

Not lyrics, but if i write/explain something, I immediately generalize things so its relateable.

I can be happy in the moment

I am not when I reflect

I smile watching youtube, but then I look back and think about how I wasted time.

I distract myself with gaming, waiting to get better

I hate it

Youtube will cure depression right? /s

I wanna do the most good, and prevent the most hurt

But I've gotta put on my own oxygen mask first

This is just an important phrase I try to remember when I’m down. for people who dont do well with metaphors, he’s saying that if you want to help people, you need to help yourself first.

I can't predict what I'll do.

I can never be sure

I am terrified of making promises any more

I can't face my work,

I feel sick from the word

I genuinely believe I'm capable of changing the world

Don’t relate much here, except for the more positive, upbeat tone the song takes on, and i feel that this part, the part above and everything below is dave fighting his depression.

I still think I can get better

I’m holding onto hope.

I still think I can create and get pleasure from it

I hope so, I want my art and writing to improve.

I'll keep aiming to make my emotion and my logic agree

The eternal stuggle. I always try to get the two to line up, it rarely works. I try to use logic more often though.

And become the best version of me

Always trying to improve myself.

I don't want to stop!

There’s alot this could mean. I dont want to stop creating. I dont want to stop fighting. I dont want to stop getting better. I dont want to stop living. I relate to all these things.

I’ll expand on this more later, it’s too late now for me to continue this

#cussing tw #swearing tw #tw suicide mention #tw self harm #tw eating disorder #vent post

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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years ago

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Hey y'all! So I wrote a relatively long oneshot (for me) in 24 hours or so (breaking my record for most words written in one day in the process), and I decided to dump it all on you. This is minimally edited and was posted with a cat on my lap, so if you spot any errors, please let me know.

Also, while it's not technically necessary to read all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me and all the things that you never ever told me, which are the fics which this is an alternate ending for, it will be really really helpful to understanding this. (All the smiles is here and all the things is here.) Do be careful of the warnings for those two, as they're quite dark fics. But then again, so is this, so...y'know.

Oh and please don’t question why the Cherri POV is present tense and the Newsie POV is past tense, idk either it just felt right.

Title: if i died we’d be together

Wordcount: 5316

Summary: Cherri Cola dies. NewsAGoGo refuses to accept this.

The Phoenix Witch is unhelpful (and an asshole, if you ask Newsie.)

Warnings: major character death, implied/referenced suicide, implied self harm, minor violence, an extraordinary amount of swearing.

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

In this universe, the Phoenix Witch doesn’t come for Cherri Cola. He lies in the sand, alone and in pain, unable to move himself a single step further. He would get up if he could, he would go home, but he’s helpless. Alone and afraid, truly afraid for the first time in years. He doesn’t want to die alone. He doesn’t want to die knowing the people in his life will never know what happened to him. D, Pony, Newsie…

Cherri doesn’t want to die. Not like this. He was supposed to die helping his friends, not because he decided that life wasn’t worth living and let himself fade away into the heat of the desert. He doesn’t want to leave his friends, he doesn’t want to leave his family. Did they even know he counted them as a family? Does Newsie know he loves them like a sibling?

Cherri Cola dies alone, and the last words on his lips are “I’m sorry, Newsie.”

Cherri didn’t come back. Not after the mask discussion, not after Newsie’s talk with the Phoenix Witch, and certainly not any earlier than that. It was another week of silent dinners and endless, hopeless searching before Pony put eir foot down.

“Cola is dead.”

That was what ey said, breaking the silence of that morning’s breakfast.

Newsie couldn’t even manage the energy to snap at em. “No.”

“Cola’s gone, Newsie. You know it, just like me.”

“He can’t be fucking dead. I won’t- I won’t let it happen.” She hated that her voice shook.

“He is, though. Nothing we can do about it.” Pony’s usually cheerful voice was quiet, beaten-down.

“No!”

“Yes! We gotta accept it!”

“No, we don’t!”

“Maybe-“ eir voice broke on the word. “Maybe it was his time. Or fate or something.”

“Well fuck fate then! Fuck the Phoenix Witch and fuck her ‘plans’! It can’t just be right to fucking take him away, he’s got a fucking family!”

“Well- well- maybe you’re right, but what are we going to do about it?” Pony’s voice had gone quiet again, and ey was staring at the table like it might have the answers somehow.

“We’re going to find the Phoenix Witch and tell her to go fuck herself,” Newsie declared.

D sighed. “I don’t think that’s possible, Newsie.”

“Why not? Cherri’s met the Phoenix Witch, it can’t be that hard.” She got up from her seat, tossing the empty power pup can into the sink.

“I mean…they’ve got a point,” Pony said as D sighed again.

“See? Pone knows I’m right.” She made those words as firm as she could, filling them with all the confidence that she didn’t have but wished she did. “I’m going to go find the Phoenix Witch, flip her off, and get Cherri back.”

“Newsie-“

They ignored D’s worried voice as they went tromping into the back of the radio station, back to the room that used to be theirs and Cherri’s- and still would be, Newsie vowed. She packed up a messenger bag with a few supplies and located Cherri’s mask and ray gun, picking up the ray gun first. It was pink like hers, but a heavier weight in her hands. If she had been poetic like her brother, she would have said it was the weight of the task she was about to take on.

But they were no Cherri Cola, and they knew the real reason was that Cherri’s ray gun was a nicer one than theirs, taken from an exterminator he had fought back in the Analog Wars. It certainly wasn’t the newest model anymore, but it remained a high-quality weapon. Not that he ever used it anymore. Still, even however long after he had last held it, she thought she could feel the ghost of his hands on it, warm and rough as they guided her hands into place the first time she had ever fired a ray gun.

Newsie slid the ray gun into her spare holster and picked up Cherri’s mask. They debated putting it away into their bag, but that felt too much like they were bringing it to the mailbox for a final goodbye. Instead, they put it around their neck, where it bounced against their collarbone as they donned their own mask.

“Alright, Cherri. Let’s go bring you back from the dead.”

Show Pony and Dr. Death Defying didn’t try to stop her when she walked back through the main living space. D reached out as if to grab her wrist, but stopped himself in midair. “Newsie.”

“Don’t try to stop me.”

“I won’t, but I want you to take this.” He held out a crow feather, shining a gorgeous glossy black in the sunlight that streamed in from the window. “I met the Witch, once. During the Analog Wars. And she gave me this.”

“So you think it will help?”

D’s smile was dreadfully sad. “Worth a shot.”

Newsie hesitated a moment and took the feather. It was smooth under her fingers as she tucked it into her bag. “Thanks, D.”

“Of course.” He didn’t tell her to come back safe, and Newsie didn’t promise she would.

Pony skated up before she could walk out the door, handing her a packet of what looked vaguely like glitter. “I don’t have a fancy Witch feather like D, but take some glitter for the road. Because sparkles…”

“Make everything better.” Newsie’s throat burned. “Thanks, Pone.”

“Of course, GoGo.” Ey shot her a grin. “Bring back our Cola. Oh, and give him some shit for dying, would ya?”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Newsie muttered. They paused in the doorway, looking back at the other two. “Thanks, Pone. Thanks, D. Love you.”

“We love you too.” D’s face was sad as he watched them go.

Newsie hopped onto their motorcycle, grinning a bit to themself at the familiar noise of the engine. “Come on, baby, we’ve got an idiot brother to retrieve.”

What had once been called Death Valley was silent as Newsie hopped back off the bike, only a few caws of crows to welcome her. It was said that here, the lines between reality and wherever the Phoenix Witch was were even thinner than they were for the rest of the Zones, practically non-existent. No one could quite agree if it was because the Phoenix Witch lived here, or if the Phoenix Witch lived here because the lines were so blurred, but either way, she was said to dwell here in this aptly named valley. It wasn’t a place many people went by choice, not unless they wanted to risk the wrath of the Witch.

Newsie figured the Witch, her wrath, and all the superstition could all go fuck themselves. She was uneasy, yes, but the valley held no great fear for her. Only great fucking heat, given that the sun was blazing down and the air was almost unnaturally still. Couldn’t the Phoenix Witch have picked a nicer home? This was the closest thing you could get to hell on earth, with the exception of possibly whatever was beyond the Zones entirely. Not that Newsie particularly believed in hell, but she imagined it would be something like this. Blazing sun, still air, the faint haze of radiation, and the omnipresent sting of grief.

“Hey, Phoenix Witch lady! Asshole! Where are you?” The words didn’t even echo, absorbed into the stifling heat, and Newsie took another couple of steps. “I know this is your home- and you picked a pretty hellish one, if you ask me- so come on out and fight me!”

There was no reply, and Newsie dug through their bag to see if they had anything useful. Their hands brushed against a smooth…something, and they pulled out the feather D had given them. “Hey! Asshole! This is your feather, so come and get it!”

Once again, there was no reply, but the feather strained against Newsie’s grip, despite there being no wind. She reluctantly let it go, and it hovered above her hand, turning to point further into the valley.

“Holy shit. I guess I’m supposed to go this way?” She took a few cautious steps, and the feather almost seemed to bob in approval. “Okay, let’s go then.”

They zipped their bag closed again and started walking, following the lead of the feather. It was a longer trek than they really appreciated, across shifting sand through the hazy day. Every so often, the feather changed directions, and Newsie had to turn to follow it. Despite the fact that she guessed she must be out in Zone Seven by now, or possibly even further, the landscape never seemed to change. Rocks and sand and endless, burning heat, matching the burning of her eyes as the sand stung them. She would have been lost in a second if she didn’t have the feather, wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t lost anyways. They certainly didn’t know their way back.

Newsie shoved that concern to the back of their mind. Right now, all they needed to focus on was finding Cherri. The rest could come later. Still, there was no sign of Cherri- or anyone else for that matter- as they made their way further into the dusty valley. It should have been lonely, but the faint hovering presence of someone or something next to her kept away that particular anguish. She really should have been more alarmed by whatever was in the corner of her eye, vanishing when she looked right at it, but the presence felt safe. Almost familiar. So Newsie kept walking.

They walked, and walked, and walked and walked and walked until the steps all blurred together under the infinite sun. It seemed like it should be nearly nightfall by now, but the sun didn’t seem to move, no matter how many steps she took. The landscape didn’t seem like it was moving much either, even though they must have walked miles and miles by now. Every step was harder than the last, sand stinging her eyes and nose and throat as her feet ached.

Still, Newsie was too damn stubborn to give up now. She followed the feather until the landscape did start to shift, the feather pointing towards…a tree? On a hill? It wasn’t like the tiny, scraggly trees that clung to existence in the wettest parts of the desert. No, this was what Newsie vaguely thought might have been called an oak, once upon a time, branches stretching towards the sky as the tree stood proud. The leaves were dark green, striking a sharp contrast to the faded blue of the desert sky and the endless beige sand, and the branches were thick and steady, growing in a pattern Newsie hadn’t seen before. It definitely wasn’t a tree that was meant to be in the desert, but...shade was shade.

She staggered over and flopped down underneath it, every muscle in her body screaming at her. “Hey, Witch, asshole, why do I have to walk so fucking far?”

The only reply she got was the rustling of leaves above her. They didn’t think the Witch was actually watching, but they flipped off the tree anyways, just in case.

She could have sworn she heard faint laughter at that, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her. Water, she could really use some fucking water. Thank the Witch, or maybe just Pony’s quick thinking, they found a bottle of water when they reached into their bag. It was warmed by the sun and tasted vaguely of rust, but then again, most water in the desert did. Newsie was used to it.

She only got a few minutes to rest before the silence was shattered by a cry. “Help! Help!” It was a young-sounding voice, and Newsie groaned as they climbed to their feet. Having a moral compass was a real pain in the ass sometimes; they couldn’t just ignore a kid in need.

The presence by their shoulder seemed to have grown stronger as Newsie came around the tree and saw a few dracs holding a struggling killjoy who looked to be maybe thirteen or fourteen. She would have to be very careful in order not to hurt the ‘joy, given their close proximity to the dracs. Their hands shook as they pulled out their ray gun, reconsidered, and took out Cherri’s instead. They were pretty sure it had that gyroscope stabilizer (or whatever it was called) that some of the nicer ones were built with, and she would need every advantage she could get. This time, she was almost certain there were ghostly hands over hers as she took careful aim.

“Steady. Breathe,” a voice murmured in Newsie’s ear as they tilted the ray gun carefully. It would be only seconds before the young killjoy was dragged off, so she had to act now.

Newsie took a deep breath, releasing it fully before she pulled the trigger and took out one of the dracs holding the ‘joy, who was able to break free from the other one’s grasp as Newsie took that one down too. She might not have been Cherri Cola, but she was by no means a bad shot, and she grinned a bit to herself. Drac down, drac down, and that was the last of them!

“Fuck yeah, NewsAGoGo, you kick ass.” They figured they might as well encourage themself, since there was no one else around to do it.

That was met by what she could have sworn was another faint chuckle, but there wasn’t anyone else around to be laughing. Well, except the younger killjoy, but they were way too far away to have heard her.

Newsie shrugged and accepted that weird shit was going to happen on a quest in Death Valley. They had to keep moving, they decided, but first they should check on that ‘joy they’d saved.

“Hey, kid! You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks to you, I think.” Their voice was hoarse, and Newsie sighed as she handed them her water bottle. Cherri was getting his ass kicked for this, she decided. It wasn’t technically his fault that she was thirsty, but if he hadn’t up and died, she wouldn’t have had to quest after him and then she wouldn’t have ended up giving her water to some random ‘joy.

“Thanks,” the teen said, handing them back the water bottle.

She shrugged. “No problem. You going somewhere?”

“Yes, but not the same way as you.” Their head was tilted curiously. “You’ll have to go that way. Until you see the building.”

Newsie debated for a second if this kid was trustworthy, but ultimately decided it was no worse than following a fucking feather. “Thanks, kid. Good luck, keep running.”

“Keep running!” They flashed a smile and wandered away.

Newsie sighed and started walking again, this time in the direction the kid had pointed. Again, Cherri was so getting an ass-kicking for this. Their feet hurt.

Thank the Phoenix Witch- no, thank Destroya, she wasn’t thanking the Phoenix Witch for fucking anything right now- she wasn’t back on her feet for long. Compared to her earlier trek, it was quite a short distance, maybe a mile or so, to what must have been the building that kid was talking about. It was a small shack which looked vaguely familiar, even from a distance, and Newsie sped up a little as they headed towards it. Shade! Maybe even a place to sit that wasn’t sand! Of course, knowing her luck, the Phoenix Witch would show up and demand she go run some errand or walk another hundred fucking miles or something.

The presence that had been following her this whole time seemed stronger and easier to catch a glimpse of, now, but the was the least of their worries as Newsie approached the building and found it familiar. They could peer in through the window and find D and Pony sitting there in the living room, talking about music (she assumed, given that the only time D gestured so broadly was when he was giving opinions about music).

“D! Pone!”

They didn’t seem to hear her, and Newsie felt her eyes stinging from both sand and grief as she knocked on the door. There was still no reply, no Pony at the door or even sound from inside. But the two carried on their conversation, gesturing and laughing away.

"D, Pony…” If they were back here, that meant they had failed. They hadn’t gotten to the Witch after all.

Newsie gave up her knocking and turned her back to the door, sliding down to sit on the hard ground. Their feet hurt from standing and their legs hurt from walking and their hands hurt from clutching Cherri’s ray gun so tightly. The sun was still blazing, and their throat was dry and sore. Her collarbones were banged up where Cherri’s mask had been bouncing against them, and her hip was bruised from the bag bouncing against it, and everything fucking hurt. They had promised themself they weren’t going to cry, but now they were breaking that promise because their goddamn brother was dead and they couldn’t fucking do anything about it.

“I’m sorry, Cherri,” they choked.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” The words were only a whisper, but the voice was familiar.

Newsie’s heart skipped a beat. “Cherri?”

“I’m here,” the air next to her whispered, right where that presence had been hovering. “Not exactly, but close enough.” If they squinted, they could make out an outline of a familiar killjoy, smiling a soft, sad smile as he pushed his hair out of his face.

“Fucking bastard! Fuck! Fucking hell! You just fucking died on me and do you know how far I fucking walked?”

“Technically, you didn’t walk at all.” That was a different voice, belonging to the cloaked figured who was suddenly in front of Newsie. They could have sworn the person hadn’t been there just a second ago, which was damn inconvenient. Right as she was trying to catch up with her fucking brother? Really?

“Who the fuck are you?” They demanded.

“The deity you came to find, NewsAGoGo.”

Newsie hopped to her feet so she could stand on level with the bird creature, ignoring the ache in every part of their body. “Fuck you! Fuck you, Witch lady! Fuck you and your fate and your cryptic ways! What the fuck do you mean I didn’t walk?”

The Witch seemed faintly amused by her swearing. “I mean that in real-world distance, you went nowhere. You’re on the border, the boundary between this world and the next. Which is how your lovely brother is here, by the way. He belongs to the spirit world, and you belong to the ordinary one, but on this border and this border only, you can see and hear each other.”

“Great, now I’m taking him back to the real world.”

The Phoenix Witch tsked disapprovingly. “I’m afraid you can’t do that, NewsAGoGo. You see, Cherri Cola is dead. He belongs to my domain now.”

“Well fuck that! I’m not letting him go.” Newsie hadn’t walked however many fucking miles to give up now.

“Fine, fine, you can have him.” Newsie’s heart soared. “For a price,” The Witch added.

“And what’s the price?”

“The price is the people in that house behind you.”

“What?”

“Well, technically they aren’t there, per se. That’s not Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony, although it seems that way to you.” The Witch’s voice was annoyingly calm. “But my point being, if you can give up one of them, you can have your Cherri back.”

“Newsie, no,” Cherri whispered from beside her.

“Can you do it?” The Witch was still smiling. “Can you sacrifice one friend to save another? Could you live with yourself if you killed your friend to save your brother? And could you live with yourself if you left him here to save the others?”

“No, I can’t do it.” They knew their voice must sound very small and very tired as they leaned a little against the radio shack that wasn’t the radio shack. “I can’t choose the life of one of my friends over another. I won’t make that choice. I refuse.”

“So do you choose to leave him here? I’ll take good care of him, you know.”

“No. I choose to not choose. I refuse to choose.” She had no idea what she was doing, only that she wasn’t leaving without the lives of all of her family. “I won’t put Cherri’s life over D’s, or Pony’s. I won’t put D or Pony’s life over Cherri’s. They all deserve to live.”

“Oh, hon, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Well I’ll make it work that way!” A thought niggled Newsie’s brain. “What if…What if I gave you something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like my life.”

“No!” That was Cherri again, his spirit form flickering fiercely. “No! Newsie, just leave without me. Please.”

The Phoenix Witch was smirking, but she shook her head. “Sorry, NewsAGoGo. I can’t accept that offer, selfless as it might be. You’ve got things ahead of you, I can’t just mess up my plans like that.”

“Fine, then something else.” Newsie rooted around in her bag, desperately trying to find something to trade with the Witch. Empty water bottle, no. Can of power pup that she never touched, no. Their hand collided with a small, slightly squished packet of something, which they pulled out triumphantly. “Glitter. I’ll give you glitter for my brother’s life.” Newsie knew she sounded ridiculous, but it really was all she had to offer.

The Phoenix Witch threw her head back and cackled; it was almost more of a caw than a laugh but clearly a sound of amusement nonetheless. “Glitter! Glitter! I haven’t laughed so hard in years.”

Their hand was shaking. “Pony gave it to me. Because sparkles- because sparkles-“ Their voice wobbled and they couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Sparkles make everything better,” Cherri whispered softly from next to her. Newsie nodded, trying not to cry.

The mirth on the Witch’s face was gone, replaced by true, genuine pity. “You care so much.”

“Yeah, of course I fucking do. He’s my brother, asshole.”

Cherri’s form was flickering again, and Newsie wished she knew what that meant as the Witch smiled softly. It was a bit of a sad, pitying smile, which they really didn’t appreciate, but they guessed they did make for a pitiful sight. Sandy and dusty, tear tracks on their face as they leaned against a wall and offered a pitiful little pack of glitter in exchange for the person they loved most in the world.

“So…are you going to take the glitter?” Maybe it was dumb, maybe she should know the Witch would never accept glitter, but she had to try.

“Yes.”

Newsie gaped at her.

“Yes, I’ll take the glitter. Not as a reward, but as a symbol. You, NewsAGoGo, traveled uncountable miles of unreality, fought a squad of dracs, and dared defy me, a literal deity, for your brother. I am not a cruel goddess, I do not need to be. The world is cruel enough for me. And your Cherri did not deserve to die. Oh, he was asking for it, he was taunting me into swooping down to take that bracelet you gave him off his wrist and taking his soul on with me just the same, but he still didn’t deserve to die.”

The Witch flicked Cherri on the nose, or where Newsie thought his nose ought to be. “We’ve had some conversations about it, haven’t we? Because you didn’t want to die, Cherri Cola. You wanted to not be in pain. Something everyone wants. And your sister cares so much, so I’ll give you one more chance. This is your last one, lovely.”

“I understand.”

“Of course you do, hon.” The Witch turned back to Newsie. “Keep an eye on this one. He’s a bit prone to wandering off, but he’s yours again. He belongs to the land of the living. I’ll be keeping this, though.” She tapped the bracelet on her wrist, which Newsie recognized as the one they had given Cherri. “And the glitter, just for the hell of it. Tell your friend Pony they have good taste in décor, will you?”

And just like that, she was gone. Newsie was standing alone at the entrance to Death Valley, her faithful motorcycle next to her. At first, she thought the Witch had lied, since she did seem to be utterly alone, but before long, footsteps sounded from within the valley.

Newsie turned as a figure approached, her breath catching at the familiar face. Cherri Cola was exactly how he had been the day Newsie had left him at the radio station, not knowing she would come back to find him gone. His battered green jacket was just as ripped and dusty as ever, and there was a small scar across his right cheek, as always. The only immediately visible difference between Cherri of a few weeks ago and this Cherri was the pure white streak in his hair, white like bones and death and the salt crusted on some parts of the desert. Yet when she looked closer, she could also see a tiny spark of determination in his eyes that had been missing for a very long time.

Cherri came to a stop in front of her, smiling cautiously. “Hey.”

Newsie didn’t know if they should cry, yell at him, or hug him. They settled for a mixture of all three, sprinting over to hug him tightly as they unleashed all the bottled swear words and tears of the past few weeks. “Fuck you, Cherri! Dipshit! Bitch boy! Fucking rat bastard, you left me! You left me alone and I- and I was scared.” Their voice dropped on the last few words.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Cherri’s voice was very soft. “I should never have left.”

A bit of her fierceness came back at that, with another couple of swear words to unleash. “No, you fucking shouldn’t have! Asshole. Little shit! You died, you fucker! You died and I had to walk so fucking far to get you back, fuckface!”

“I’m sorry, Newsie. I’m so sorry.”

She sniffled, unable to stay mad for long. “Just never do that again. Ever. I’m not fighting a squad of dracs to save some child so I can get directions to a fucking fake radio shack and talk to a cryptic deity next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Cherri said softly. “I promise.”

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

He crossed his heart, giving her a very serious look. “I swear on my best poetry and Show Pony’s glitter stash.”

They let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Now you can never break it, Pone would never forgive you if something happened to their glitter stash.”

“Exactly.” His eyes were glimmering with tears as well, but he was smiling as Newsie led him back to her motorcycle with a “Hop on, fuckface.”

It felt safe to have Cherri’s arms wrapped around her again, his head leaning on her shoulder as she revved the engine. He was a warm, safe presence, just as he had been in the unreality-reality place, but this time he was a solid one. A real one.

They might have been tired as all fuck, but that didn’t stop them from grinning as Cherri muttered something about it probably not being safe for her to drive while this tired. “Hang on, fucker. We’re going home.”

Home was, as it had been for quite a while now, a (mostly) structurally sound radio station in the middle of the desert. It was almost nightfall by the time they pulled up in front of the radio shack, and Newsie was yawning as she climbed off the bike with another huge yawn. Cherri practically had to carry her to the door, but in her defense, he wasn’t the one who had walked however many miles, got in a firefight, and argued with a deity today. So they felt no guilt in leaning against him as he paused on the porch, using his free hand to knock gently on the door.

They were met by an exhausted-looking Show Pony, eyes red-rimmed and blood-shot as ey opened the door. “I’m sorry, no visitors today- Newsie?! Cherri?!?”

Cherri waved with his free hand. “Hey.”

“Am I just seeing things?” Pony’s voice was as shocked as eir face, which was very.

“Not seeing things, bastard,” Newsie yawned. “I said I was getting Cherri, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but you’ve been missing a month, Gogo! D and I thought you were ghosted like your bro!”

It probably was not an appropriate reaction, but the first thing out of her mouth was “No wonder I’m so thirsty.”

Cherri started laughing at that, and after a second so did Pony, half-hysterically. “Well, we’ve got water, that’s for sure. D’ll give you plenty, he’ll be so glad you’re alive!” Ey led them inside, still laughing in a somewhat hysterical way. “D, we’ve got some rat bastards alive and back on our hands!”

“Fuck you, Pone.”

“She’s kidding, we love you,” Cherri yawned.

“And I love you too, but you can’t just- just up and disappear! The lot of you, honestly.”

D’s face was only slightly less shocked than Pony’s when he rolled into the living room, and Newsie had a feeling that was only because he was even more exhausted than em.

“Hey,” Cherri said again.

“Cherri- Newsie- Witch, you both, we thought you were dead!”

“Well we’re not, deal with it.” She was too tired for this shit. Shouldn’t arguing with a deity give you a pass? “Also, sorry, Pone, I traded your glitter away to the Witch.”

Ey only looked shocked for a second before eir usual grin returned. “Well, it was meant to be used somehow! Plus, sparkles…”

“Make everything better!” Newsie, Pony, and Cherri all chorused.

D sighed. “Welcome home, you two. Never scare us like that again, alright, Newsie?”

“I wasn’t the one who wandered off and died!”

“To be fair, you kinda threatened to fight the Phoenix Witch and then vanished, sugar,” Pony put in.

Newsie flipped em off, flopping down on the sofa. “My point was, give Cherri shit instead. I’m too tired for this.”

“Oh, I plan on it.” D’s voice was vaguely threatening, but his face cracked into a smile as he turned to Cherri. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

Cherri stared at the ground. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“And we love you so much,” D added.

Newsie grinned at her brother’s shocked face. “Uh-huh, fuckface. We love you, even if you’re a rat bastard. Now I’m going to sleep for a week, see you all later.”

“Goodnight, Newsie,” Cherri said with a smile. If anyone else said anything after that, Newsie didn’t hear it. They were out like a light within seconds.

In this universe, the radio station is peaceful that evening, the family reunited at long last. Cherri Cola smiles to himself as he lifts Newsie off the sofa, giving D and Pony a thumbs up as he wanders into the back of the radio station. Their room is quiet, and Newsie barely shifts when he sets her down gently on the mattress. They do move, however, when Cherri tries to pull away, reaching out to snatch his wrist. Trapped, he has no choice but to lay down next to Newsie, earning a sleepy noise that sounds vaguely happy.

Cherri grins softly, even if she can’t see it, running his hand along the new set of scars on his arm. There will be time to think about those later, time for the conversations that have to come with that, but for now all they are is a reminder. A reminder that he’s a survivor, a reminder of what matters.

Cherri Cola falls asleep with Newsie by his side, and the last words on his lips that night are “I love you, Newsie.”

#cherri cola #newsagogo #phoenix witch #auri writes #ttlofk #danger days #danger days fic #ttlofk fic #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys

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evanstanhoney · 5 years ago

Text

Meds.

a/n: a few things. I hardly ever write non-au Shawn because...well idk why but I felt like it was necessary with this. Also, this is probably the most personal thing I will ever post here. Bipolar disorder is a fucking asshole and even if you don’t suffer from it I hope you can enjoy this anyway!

summary: you think you're doing okay, but eventually the facade shatters and shawn is there to help you pick up the pieces

⚠️warnings: mentions/insinuations of anxiety and depression/bipolar disorder

word count: 1.9k

Things were always a little harder when he was away. It was necessary and you understood that. You never wanted to be the clingy girlfriend that couldn’t function without their significant other within arms reach, but it was still hard. There were phone calls and text messages and Facetimes scheduled even a few trips planned within the months he was away. But it was still pretty rough.

This time was different though.

You’re not sure what it was if you had more things to distract yourself with or the fact that you had one trip more planned to fly out to see him than your usual, but you were feeling much better. The first few days of him being away were usually pretty rough, rougher than they should be. It’s just that you would always get so used to having him around so often that when he wasn’t there it was strange. But now? Going on day one without him with you, it felt like nothing had changed.

“Shawn!” you smile into the phone answering on the first ring.

“Hey Honey, how are you?”

“Good! I’m good, I got a bunch done today. Finally.”

“Yeah? That's good. I miss you already. It was weird not being kicked awake this morning.” He jokes and you can hear that smirk on his face. You were a mover in your sleep and he had gotten used to waking up at all hours of the night to you rolling around in the sheets taking the covers with you.

“I miss you too. But you're having fun right?”

“Yeah, yeah I -” He wasn’t expecting this from you. Usually, that first phone call after he’d left was a somber one. Of course, you would try your best conceal it from him but he could always hear how hurt you were. But you sounded...fine. Happy even. And as fucked up as it sounds, the happiness in your voice made his heart twist a bit in his chest. Because it wasn’t just happy he could hear, it was euphoria. You rambled on more about your day, and you slipped in a few ‘I wish you were here’s’ before he interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Honey.”

“Yeah?” you asked through a smile.

“Are you - have you been taking your meds?” The line goes quiet for what feels like a whole minute and he has his answer right there.

“That’s none of your business.” you snap, voice laced with venom. You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does, but you were also pissed.

“Honey -”

“Why would you even ask me that?”

He curses himself running a hand through his hair. He really didn’t have a right to ask. It was your business but that didn’t stop his worrying. And by the sounds of it, he had every right to worry.

“I just want you to be okay baby, that’s all.”

“Well, I’m doing fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“I didn’t mean to -”

“Goodnight Shawn.” You hung up the phone after that before he even got the chance to apologize.

....

The next time you spoke it was like that first phone call had never happened. And you were more than okay with that because this time you were far from okay. This time you found yourself with your arms wrapped around your knees while you sat on your bathroom floor, in the dark and the only thing you can feel the cool tiles against your skin.

“Shawn,” you say into the phone, voice cracking. You didn’t even try to hide it, you were too much of a wreck to care, and you didn’t even know why. A few days ago you were fine, and things were looking good considering Shawn being away for the first time in a while, but then all of a sudden you were hit by a wave of something you couldn’t quite explain, but it left a hole in your chest, and it made it hard to breathe, everything just went dark. You had convinced yourself that everything was just...wrong. You were a fuck-up, Shawn didn’t love you, and there was just no point in anything anymore. You felt guilty about calling, but you just needed to hear his voice, as shitty as you felt, as much as you had convinced yourself that he hated you, you just wanted to hear his voice.

“Honey.” He sighs into the phone, and you can hear hum excuse himself, the noise in the background getting quieter. He looks down at his phone and checks the time, “Baby its three in the morning there, you should be in bed.”

“I know I just. Do you love me?” you sniffle, whipping at your eyes.

“Of course I do.”

“Even though I’m fucked up?”

“Honey. Your not- there’s nothing wrong with you.” He says softly. He’s had this conversation with you only a few times, and each time it broke his heart. He knew that when you were in one of these moods when you were stuck in your head there was nothing that he could do to get you out of it. All he could do was comfort you the best way that he could until whatever it was you were feeling just faded away. And being thousands of miles away this time, made everything thousand times worse.

“Yes, there is Shawn. I’m fucking broken and I’m a mess.” you hiccup into the phone, and suddenly it becomes harder to breathe. “I’m sorry you have to deal with my shit, Shawn. I’m so so so sorry.”

“Hey, I need you to breathe for me, okay?”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Hey, listen to me. You’re okay, yeah? We’re alright.” He takes a few deep breaths instructing you to follow along with him and you do, eventually being able to breathe again on your own.

“There you go.” He says finally hearing your breathing go back to normal and he relaxes a bit himself.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the phone. You feel calmer, but the tears still haven’t stopped.

“No, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” he assures, “Can you do something for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Make yourself a cup of tea and go put your blanket in the dryer for a minute. You know the one?”

“Yeah.” you sniff

“Go put it in the dryer for a few minutes and then try to get some sleep, okay?” It was something that he did for you the first time he’d seen you this upset. Put a blanket in the dryer to warm it up and wrapped it around you. Something about it grounded you and made you feel safe. You’d done it a few times yourself when he was away, and you were particularly lonely. It always managed to calm you down.

“I want to talk to you though.” you pout into the phone, hoping that it’ll convince him to stay on the line with you. And as much as he wants to, he knows that you just need to sleep it off for a while.

“I know you do but you need sleep more baby. You can call me as soon as you wake up. I’ll answer on the first ring I promise.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” He says into the phone with more conviction than he ever has.

“I love you too.”

You hang up and his heartbreaks. He feels so helpless. He wants to help you but he knows that there's nothing that he can do. Your in a battle with your own mind and all he can do is tell you that he’s there for you and hope that your taking care of yourself. And by the conversations, you’ve had the last few days. He knows that your not. You're not taking your meds. And he can't do anything about it.

.....

The following week he finally has a few days off in his schedule and he’s booking tickets immediately flying home to you. It wasn’t planned, and it would only be for three days, two if you take travel into account and to most people the trip wouldn’t be worth it, but he needed to get to you even if it were just for a few days.

“Honey can we talk.” He asks from his spot on the couch. You finished fidgeting with the Blue-ray player, turning to him with a smile.

“Yeah.”

He extends his hand out to you and which you gladly accept. He pulls you into his side, and you instinctively lay your head on his shoulder, lacing your fingers together. He doesn’t even know how to begin the conversation, too afraid it’ll end in a fight. But he doesn’t know what else he can do, he can’t stand to see you hurting like you have been, even though he knows you’ve been putting on a brave face, he can see the cracks and he just wants to help put you back together again.

“I know that it’s none of my business, and I don’t have a right but -”

“I’m okay Shawn,” you whisper.

“Baby you called me at 3 o’clock in the morning in tears.” you look down at your fingers intertwined with his. “I know you're not taking your meds. And I know it’s none of my business, but honey you’re not okay.”

“I was doing fine though.”

“I know you were.” He sighs placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, “But that doesn’t mean you can stop taking them. They’re there to help.”

“I just don’t want to have to take pills to be normal. I’m tired of being the crazy girlfriend.” It was a thought you had often, feeling guilty that Shawn had to deal with your ‘meltdowns’ every so often. Hating that you had to take pills to be able to function like he could. Wishing that your brain would just….work. That it didn’t play tricks on you, and that you just could be happy without it meaning that something was possibly wrong.

“Hey, you're not crazy. Don’t say that. You’re just wired differently that's all.” You don’t say anything, just not and nuzzle in closer to him. “I love you, Honey. No matter what.”

“I love you too.”

.....

After your talk you decided it was best you start back on your medication, and after a week, your back to your normal self. Well, stable self. It’s strange, at first. Looking back and realizing just how bad off you were without them, and part of you is worried that something else will happen that will trigger something again. But you were doing better, and for now, that was okay. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was one day at a time.

Shawn had arranged for you to fly out to stay with him for a few shows, it was tricky with work, and you had to send a few schmoozy emails to your professors to get them to excuse you, but it was worth it. You needed it. He needed it. After what happened, he just wanted to be near you, to make sure you were okay, and yeah it may have been wrong, to want to keep an eye on you, but he didn’t know what else to do. And well, you loved seeing him on stage, nothing made you happier than watching the smile on his face while he performed.

“You were amazing up there tonight babe. As always.” You say snuggling up to him in bed, laying your head on his chest.

“Thank you.” He chuckles, laying a kiss to your forehead. There’s a moment of comfortable silence between you for a moment before he decides to speak up again, “How you feeling?”

“Perfect.” you sigh placing a kiss to his chest, “Just perfect.”

masterlist // tell me what you think? // requests? // wattpad // ao3

Tag List: @outlandishnerd @justanotherfangurl272 @itrocksmysocks @turtoix

#my writing #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes prompts #shawn mendes concepts #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes aus #tw: anxiety

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jessgartner · 4 years ago

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2020 Life Olympics

The real Olympics may have been canceled in 2020 but the Life Olympics persevered like the postal service of Olympics.

First, I’d like to apologize for my role in the chaos of 2020 because I think I had a slight miscommunication with the powers that be and I feel partly responsible. Here was my plan for 2020:

My theme for 2020 is Intention because I want to take the energy I feel right now and deploy it with more intentionality next year - bringing increased mindfulness to how I spend my time, money, physical and mental energy. And because I love wordplay, I also literally want to spend more time camping “in-tent” to enjoy more peace and quiet and beauty in nature.

The universe was like, “Oh, she wants to spend less money and more time outside? Well, shut it down. Shut the whole planet down.”

I mean, mission accomplished, I guess? I did spend less money and more time outside and had to be VERY intentional with my mental energy to survive the day-to-day morass of 2020. Next time, I will be more specific with my annual manifestations. Sorry to all.

2020 was brutal for pretty much everything and everyone. I don’t know anyone who isn’t in some state of grief right now, including myself. I debated doing a Life Olympics at all this year, feeling like-- what is the point? Hundreds of thousands of people died, our democracy is hanging on by a thread, and millions of people lost jobs, businesses, and homes.

Like many people, I’ve been struggling with anxiety and depression this year which intensified as it got darker and colder outside. At a low point, I talked with my therapist about the struggle of just not wanting to do any of the things that usually bring me joy-- and how periods of relief were so fleeting. “But you have to keep doing those things,” she said, “even if they’re not working right now, you have to keep doing those things and trust the process; the joy will return.”

So even though I don’t really feel like it and kind of feel like it’s dumb, I’m writing the 2020 Life Olympics. I’m trusting the process.

2020 Life Olympics Recap

Work - Participation Trophy

Starting a company is hard, operating a company is harder, but running a company during a global pandemic and economic crisis is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. 2020 was not a fun year to lead a business; it was hell. On March 15, the plan for the year pretty much went out the window and everything went into survival mode. I never take the company or my team for granted, but I’m particularly grateful to be able to usher this work into 2021.

Despite the craziness, we still had some big wins this year. We launched new product partnerships with PowerSchool and Amazon Business. We rebuilt our tool for equitably calculating district funding formulas. And I got to flex my creative muscles with EdFinToks! Throughout it all, I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a team of people who are as compassionate as they are talented.

I’m worried about public education more than ever after this year, but I’m going to keep fighting every day to make it work better for kids.

This is Work-Lite but I also spent a good chunk of time this year leading the modernization workgroup for Bill Henry’s transition committee after his spring primary election to become the new Baltimore City Comptroller, ousting a 25-year incumbent, Joan Pratt. This was an enlightening (and infuriating) experience for me that gave me a glimpse into the operations of a segment of the City government. This process also really helped crystallize how much I enjoy making public agencies function more efficiently; I’m excited to see what Bill does with the recommendations (some are already being put in action!)

Health - Gold

This is the second year in a row (and ever) that I’m giving myself a Gold medal for Health. This was easily a year that I could have regressed on all of my healthy habits and no one would have blamed me. Instead, I leaned into protecting and improving my physical and mental health in 2020. It’s not an exaggeration to say that walking probably saved my life this year. I spent a lot of time walking around my neighborhood and various state and city parks-- walking is maybe not the best word; I stomp and charge around like I have a score to settle with the ground beneath me. My walking increased 370% in 2020. This is a habit of 2020 that I’d like to keep. My brain and body are happier if I can spend a little time walking-- stomping-- around outside each day.

I also did a lot of biking this summer. My cycling increased 200% this year-- with much more time spent cycling outdoors. My crowning achievement this year was biking to and from Annapolis:

I spent a LOT more time outside this year which was critical for my mental health. On the downside, I only did 90% as much yoga and 60% as much strength training, so I want to try to be a little more balanced next year.

I also invested a lot in my mental health this year. I kept up with therapy every 2-4 weeks and in October I decided to pursue a formal diagnosis for ADHD which I definitely have! Needless to say, staying in one place this year has been a special kind of hell for me.

Home - Silver

Well, I definitely spent less money this year. And the way I did spend money made me (mostly) sad:

Travel down 70%

Auto & Transportation up 200% (boo cars)

Shopping down 60%

Personal Care down 35%

Gifts and donations up 200%

Food and Dining down 40%

Entertainment down 35% (I kept up my singing lessons virtually which accounts for a lot of this category)

2020 was quite the palate cleanser from my 2019 year of hedonism but maybe we can go for a happy medium in 2021? Just kidding-- I will resume my hedonist ways the minute the world opens.

I also redid my home office like every other work-from-homer on the planet and replaced my crumbling kitchen floor so the house got some TLC.

But nobody enjoyed having me home all year as much as Darwin:

Relationships - Bronze

What a weird year for relationships of all kinds. I’m giving this a Bronze because while I invested a lot into a few relationships this year, there are also a lot of people in my life to whom I haven’t been able to give my time and love.

One of the most important relationships in my life this year was with one of my former students. After bouncing around in the foster system for many years, we reconnected around the holidays in 2019 and he started crashing with me while we tried to figure out stable housing and employment. He was arrested in January and was incarcerated for the next several months awaiting trial. Finally, we were able to negotiate a plea agreement with the State’s Attorney and he came home around Independence Day. We spent the next several months getting him set up with a phone and various identification documents-- a nightmare in normal times and a total abyss during the pandemic. I got him registered to vote when we got his ID card and I took him to vote for the first time (a supreme treat for this former social studies teacher):

He’s now got a full-time job and stable living situation. Calling this THE success of 2020. Thank you to everyone who helped me with resources all year for housing, legal processes, and documents. It takes a village.

It was a bizarre year for family. We lost my grandmother in September, so not being able to spend the holidays together felt like an especially cruel loss. Other big losses this year include a trip to France to celebrate a milestone birthday for my mother and my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding (Mosby seemed pretty ok with the alternative plan, though):

But in many ways, my family has been more together than ever this year thanks to prolific group chats and photo-sharing. Mostly, I’m just glad everyone else is safe and healthy. As my father often reminds me, “Our problems are small.”

And dating? What to do with this weird Jane-Austen-esque dating scene-- as if modern dating weren’t fraught enough. Is this the universe punishing me for ending my 2019 dating hiatus early? I, for one, have given up. You win this one, pandemic. I’m just going to have my little Twitter crush and call it a year. Next year, though...

Horizons - Silver Gold

You know what? It’s hard to expand your horizons without people or places.

I did the best I could. I finally got back on track with my Goodreads challenge and actually had a really good year of reading, including finally embracing audiobooks through my Libro.fm subscriptions. I especially enjoyed Michelle Obama’s book Becoming and Mike Birbiglia’s The New One on audio-- both narrated by their authors.

I camped in Pocomoke (MD), Western MD, Lake Michigan, and Ohiopyle (PA):

I explored over 30 new hiking/biking trails-- some favorites including the Youghiegheny River trail in PA, the NCR trail, Catoctin Mountain, the C&O Canal Towpath, Annapolis Rock, and of course, Stoney Run in my backyard.

I left Facebook and started the Life Olympics newsletter. I’ll be honest, I don’t miss Facebook but I also don’t understand where that energy, time, and brain space went. I was spending cumulatively hours a day mindlessly scrolling Facebook and I quit cold turkey and barely noticed-- what black hole of our brains does social media occupy? I kind of thought that with all that extra time I would write the next great American novel or something. I’m probably spending a little more time on Twitter, which I could stand to cut back on. Other than that, I think I was just trying to process the shitstorm of this year. Maybe I’ll write the next great American novel post-pandemic.

For the first time in my life, I feel somewhat ‘caught up’ on pop-culture. I finally watched Parks and Recreation (twice); I watched The Mandalorian and finally actually watched Star Wars (episodes IV-IX); I watched the final seasons of The Good Place and Schitt’s Creek; I’m caught up on Insecure; I watched The Prom and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom and Jingle Jangle; I even started Bridgerton. I know what everyone is talking about and I’m catching so many more pop-culture references these days. (I guess instead of writing the next great American novel I watched Netflix?)

2020 Lessons

I’ve spent plenty of time mourning the missed opportunities of 2020 and will probably always wonder what this year could have been in an alternate universe with a functioning government. But we only have this reality for now, and we made the best of it.

I wanted to slow down in 2020, try to be more intentional, more mindful, and...

No thank you! I liked the pace of my life; it makes my brain and heart happy. I’m happiest when I wake up in a different city three days in a row. I like darting around every borough of Manhattan for nine meetings and three cocktails and then taking a red-eye to Europe. I want to run around to eight conferences for 18-hours a day for three weeks and then sleep for 22 hours. I miss overloading my brain so much that I need a deprivation chamber to sleep. This is who I am. This is how I like to live. And when I was locked down alone in the house for a year, slowing down, being mindful, I never once thought, “I should have... when I had the chance.” Because I always did. And I always will.

2021

We shake with joy, we shake with grief.

What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body.

Mary Oliver

We’ve had enough grief. 2021 is going to be all about joy.

Universe, let me be clear: this is not a euphemism or code or secret signal.

I want pure, unadulterated, abundant, joy. I want multi-course dinners in restaurants with lots of close friends and good wine. I want the virus so far gone that I can make-out with handsome strangers. I want a rollicking good time in France and/or Brazil and/or Prague and/or New Zealand and/or Bali. I want to spend the day after Christmas in NYC with my father. I want to be a glutton for theatre and art and music. I want celebrations and parties and sequins.

I want to shake with joy.

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