#they got so backed up with returns that they just shredded like 4 years worth

[realist-shit-just-happened]

If you haven't filed your tax return yet, it's time to do so. Here's some tips from a public accountant.

If you only have W-2s, Social Security, IRA or Pensions, ect. use the free fillable forms provided by the IRS. (Linked below)

When calculating your tax, use box 1 of your W-2 to calculate tax liability and box 2 to calculate your federal withholdings.

When calculating your tax, DONT FORGET THE STANDARD DEDUCTION. For filing single or married filing spereate, this is $12,950 for married filing jointly and qualified spouse it's $25,900, and for Head of Household, it's $19,400.

I can almost guarantee you won't be able to itemize your deductions. In order to itemize, your total deductible expenses must be higher than the standard deduction. The only person I've even seen itemize had donated over $200,000 annually. BUT, if you have a mortgage, a lot of student debt, a large amount of medical expenses, or are self-employed, fill out the form to see. You might make it. THE ONLY DEDUCTIBLE EXPENSE OF A LOAN IS THE INTEREST PAID. You will receive a 1098-MORT or 1098-C from your lender.

Sidebar, a 1099 is money you were paid, a 1098 is money you did pay.

When calculating your tax, do not take your entire income multiplied by your tax bracket. Google the 2022 tax table (or reference the pictures below) and use that. For example, the tax liability of a single person with a gross income of $80,000 would be $4,807.50 plus 22% of the excess of $41,775 ($9,190.50 plus $4,807.5 totaling $13,998)

If you have dependants or are in college, go to the IRS website for instructions. The dependant credit is $2,000 per dependant under 17, $500 per dependant over, with limitations. The American Opertunity Tax Credit applies to those in the first 4 years of higher education, its 100% of the first $2,000 of tuition and 25% of tuition in excess, with a max credit of $2,500 per year. The Lifetime Learning Credit is for those in their 9th or later term of higher education. It is 20% of the first $10,000 of qualified education expenses, maxing out at $2,000 a year. (I paid 1/3 of my college expenses with the AOTC)

Interest earned and ordinary dividends go on Schedule B, qualified dividends go on Schedule D.

When in doubt, go to the IRS instructions page for clarification. READ WORD FOR WORD DO NOT SKIM.

Finally, remember that the IRS is severely underfunded right now, so they don't have much phone support staff. And most importantly THE IRS DIDNT WRITE THE TAX LAWS, CONGRESS DID. IRS employees are not trying to steal your money, they are trying to follow laws written by people who have never even looked at a tax return, let alone understand it. Be nice.

[mjorthehighway]

Fuck it I'm gonna do the ask game completely wrong and use it as a chance to yell about my OC op I'm very sorry. And I'm gonna do it in a reblog cause I've been desperate to talk about them so AHH here it is

The Chieftain (Also known as Tall Stalks Mint Leaves) (art by me)

Under a read more so I don't take up too much space for this

1: She lives in the garbage wastes with her tribe of scavengers. Specifically the post artificer/spearmaster wastes (so no more acid lmao)

2: She is slightly bigger than average. She would stand about a half head taller than the survivor, making her just about the size if not slightly bigger than an iterator puppet (she slug buff)

3: Mint was born wild, but got separated from her parents in some flood water, washing her into the garbage wastes. A scavenger who had recently (Hatched?? Birthed???? Whatever scavs do) her own children, took pity on poor baby Mint and adopted her into the tribe. It was a rough time at the beginning but Mint eventually earned her place in the tribe, later on becoming their leader after proving her worth by bringing the old Chieftain the head of a Red Lizard that had been terrorizing the local area. This is also how she got her scars.

4: Mint is the leader of the tribe of scavengers in the garbage wastes. She commonly wears the mask of a King vulture to show her status (and to also hide her face from the squeamish children). She has proven time and time again her resourcefulness and tenacity, often taking hunting parties to far regions to bring back food/tech/pearls/knowledge, assisted by her handmade harpoon. She often visits moon and although she does not have the mark of communication, has worked out a rudimentary system of gestures and expressions in order to communicate. She also ensures safety of all slugcats who pass through her region (no giving more slugs trauma) and has a soft spot for any young of any species.

5: Although Mint is a kind slug, her status is absolute. The scavengers know this and respect her authority. At the beginning she was treated as an outcast, but her scav mother held on hope that with enough time and training, the young slug would be able to prove their worth. Any scavengers who doubted her shut up the moment this small green slug limped into the old chieftain's chamber, coated in blood that was mostly not theirs and an eye torn to shreds, holding the head of their greatest enemy. Her tribesmen view her as a great leader, who has the power to not only protect them, but the wisdom to make good decisions for the group.

6: Scavengers everywhere are Mint's "friends". She has not come into contact with many slugcats, and if she does it's mainly in passing at tolls. The closest thing to a friend she has is Looks to the Moon, but Mint can't leave to go visit her as often as she'd like.

7: Since Mint is the leader of the tribe she hardly ever has any time for herself. Most of her duties require being around others, so alone time is something she values and cherishes.

8: I would imagine at the official start of her campaign she would be just about to enter her senior years. She's lived a full life but she still has some energy to burn off before her cycle ends.

9: Her takes place right at the end of the Gourmand campaign, canonically the player might actually start right as the Gourmand returns to the outer expanse.

10: I imagine Mint has a similar diet to the gourmand, essentially eating anything that is available (but only getting half points for meat) with a food bar similar to the Survivor's.

11: She doesn't have any special abilities, but would start with a special item which is her Harpoon. A larger piece of sharpened rebar thats been attached to a cord that also attaches around Mint's waist. She has incredible throwing power and uses her harpoon to platform/hunt and she never loses it because it can always be reeled back in. It functions almost exactly how the King vulture harpoon works (but slug powered). She cannot throw normal spears/explody spears/ect but in return her harpoon would have the single highest stab damage of any slug in the game (I.E it would take 2 hits to kill a green lizard). It has its drawbacks, you need to be precise and take your shots wisely, as it'll be a moment before you can reel your harpoon back in.

12: Mint often travels over to the Shoreline to see Looks to the Moon. Much like Spearmaster and SRS they communicate via gestures and expressions. Mint often tells her about her travels and victories, and Moon is simply glad for the company.

13: Mint doesn't care much for Pebbles, or his so called "solution" she's got her tribesmen to worry about. It's of course up to the player if she decides to finally ascend.

14: Her truest wish is to find a successor and finally retire. She takes her role too seriously to leave it in the hands of a scav who might be a good choice at the beginning, but bad overall in the long run. Mint longs for retirement and to finally be able to go out and explore outside of the confines of her territory and to see the world, and maybe, just maybe, meet some more of her kind. She never wants to seem ungrateful, but she does have fond memories of her birth family and misses them very much. Ultinately she desires to be with her own kind, but not until she knows her new family will be taken care of after she's gone.

15: More will be explained in the final answer >:3

16: Mint would absolutely adopt and protect any small slug/scav she finds. It would be cool if in her campaign you could find not only baby slugcats, but baby scavengers! I imagine they'd be the same size as slugpups but would be able to hold more things and would be more jumpy/climby. Maybe instead of attaching to your back they could also cling to your belly?? Cute idea.

17: "I am leader of this tribe. Those who are my enemies fear me, those who are my friend respect me"

18: A very strong and capable slug. Wise beyond her years and resourceful.

19: The Chieftain achievement, if it isn't obvious lmao. I wanted a slugcat that was just automatically loved by scavs.

20: Usually Mint sleeps in a shelter with a few scavengers. They usually swap tales or general gossip throughout the tribe to wind down before snuggling up to sleep.

21: Being a leader means she's generally fearless. It's her job to lead the charge into battle and inspire the others with her confidence. The rot does cause her lot of discomfort however, they've lost too many young to the rotten tendrils. Little does she know the brother long legs she's encountered are the smallest of the mobile rot cysts.

22: Mint lost her left eye to a red lizard when she was young. This however doesn't seem to deter her aim, she has a very strong and swift throwing arm. The scavengers whisper rumors amongst themselves that she uses a notch in her mask to help herself line up shots. Other than that, she's abnormally strong for a slugcat. Whether it's a genetic defect or the results of her upbringing is unknown.

23: Mint learned language from Scavengers so she mainly uses facial gestures and hand movements to communicate. She also knows how to draw, and how to convey information through drawings, she's just not very good at it. However, being a slugcat, she does let out feral hisses/growls when in the heat of battle or asserting herself to her tribesmen. Her howls will summon scavs from several rooms over to come and assist her in battle.

24: Mint's starts with her harpoon in one hand, and a King Vulture mask in the other. She's attached to the harpoon a pair of lanterns and a pearl that holds a significance to her.

25: Mint's campaign would start in the garbage wastes inside of the scavenger stronghold, much like artificer. You see Mint and an Elite Scavenger standing on the center platform. Mint holds a mask in her hand and gives it to the Elite, and the scavengers celebrate. The insinuation is that Mint has finally chosen her successor and is now free to leave the garbage wastes and explore. As she leaves towards the industrial system several scavengers follow her for a short while before stopping and waving goodbye to her. This is where the game prompts would explain to the player how to use her harpoon. The intended route would be through industrial system, all the way up the wall. The player would find that high threat enemies like the red lizards, king vultures, and large centipedes are relatively absent from the regions directly connected to the wastes, presumably due to her and her clans activities, but as she goes further away from home the regions would get much more dangerous. Wherever the player goes however, the scavengers are there to assist you. Near always the player can find at least a scav or two following them around.

Her bodyguards would abandon her once she gets closer to the top of the wall, and closer to the entrance of Five Pebbles. Once inside of Pebbles' can he would bestow the mark of communication upon her and remark on how she's very different from the last creatures he encountered (an allusion to Artificer and Gourmand) and he encourages her to communicate to her people to stay off of his structure. He makes it clear that if she or any of the scavengers enter his can again he will kill them. In return however Pebbles' gives her an important piece of information: He had unlocked the gates to the outside of his facility for the last slugcat that entered his can. Pebbles ascertains that since Mint and the other slugcat are the same species, perhaps she'd like to follow him and go far, far, away from his can.

Thrown out of the room, the player can choose to either go immediately to the outer expanse, or decide to pay a visit to her old friend first. Along the way as the player sleeps in shelters they will be treated to dreams that detail her backstory. Still images of Mint eating with her parents, when she was washed away from them, or of them holding the head of the red lizard. Some of the later dreams would be playable scenes where Mint and a group of scavs take down a threat.

Once the player finally makes their way through Shoreline to Looks to the Moon she remarks happily that they're able to communicate more freely now and asks how her visit with Pebbles went. There's alot of assumed dialog from Mint during the interaction, but the player cannot hear or see it. Moon then asks if it's finally ok to read the pearl on Mint's Harpoon. "If my memory serves me effectively still, you gestured it was the property of your progenitors. You seem very careful with it, but since I feel I may not see you after this I would love to read it! I promise I will be very careful!" This seems to have been a point of conversation between the two for a while, and you get the sense that Mint and Moon have been meeting each other for a long time.

If the player places the harpoon at her feet she gently picks up the pearl and reads thus: "Oh! I can see why your kin cherished this as so, but I have no idea how they could have known the contents. It's a beautifully taken photograph of dense foliage. I cannot tell if the natural fauna is growing outside, or perhaps if this was some kind of artificial grow house, but the plant life pictured is very green and lush. The leaves are moist with dew and tiny yellow flowers dot between the stalks. Speaking of the stalks, towards the center of the image is what seems to be the same plant species, but they've grown so tall the leaves of the plant are cut out of the frame. You can see the shade it provides to the plants below it, which has seemingly allowed several more flowers to bloom beneath it. Perhaps the flowers prefer the shade of their taller brethren?"

Ah I am sorry for rambling so much, dear friend. This is just quite a beautiful photograph, and I regret I cannot project it myself for you to see. I hope my words have been enough dear friend, especially since you can now understand them... thank you for showing me."

After leaving the Shoreline the player is left with the choice of either ascending, or following the Gourmand's path towards the Outer Expanse. If the player chooses ascension, they are met with a similar scene as to the survivor, embracing two slugcats which are assumed to be her parents before the scene ends.

If the player chooses to go to the Outer Expanse and find the Gourmand's clan of slugcats a scene plays where we see Mint approaching the group from a distance. She looks haggard, several wrinkles crease her body and we can see she has reached old age. Before fully sighted by the group she drops her harpoon and the vulture mask (if the players enter the Expanse with one). Approaching the group of slugcats she is warmly welcomed by them, the slugpups not seeming to mind her scarred face. In the background you can see that several slugcats are moving things around, and gathering in groups. This is where she meets the Gourmand who gestures to her that they are leaving soon and offers his paw for her to join them all on their adventure for a new home and Mint is lead off, seemingly happy to finally be among friends again before the cutscene ends.

Rain World Slugcat OC Ask Game/Questionnaire

if you want to talk about your sluggies and don't know where to start, or want other people to ask about them, this is the ask game for you! iterator oc ask game

Where does your slugcat live? What is the region like? Do they like living there?

What is the size of your slugcat? Compared to the average? Compared to an iterator puppet (if applicable)?

Where does your slugcat come from? Born wild? Descendant of a purposed organism? A purposed organism themselves?

If your slugcat lives in a colony, what is their role in it?

If your slugcat lives in a colony, do they generally get along with their colony?

Does your slugcat have any friends? Within their own species or outside of their species?

Does your slugcat prefer company or to be alone?

How old is your slugcat? (Relatively or exact age?)

Where does your slugcat place within the canon timeline?

What is your slugcat's diet? How much do they have to eat?

Does your slugcat have any special abilities?

Has your slugcat ever met an iterator? If so, what do they think of them?

Is your slugcat aware of the cycle and the Great Problem? If so, do they have any opinions on it?

If your slugcat could have any one wish come true, what would it be?

Your slugcat meets one of the canon slugcats/iterators. How would the interaction go?

If your slugcat were to meet a baby creature of any kind (slugpup or other), how would they react to it?

How would your slugcat describe themselves?

How would you describe your slugcat?

What are the inspirations behind your slugcat, if any?

How does your slugcat spend their time in a shelter, once they get there? Do they fall asleep immediately, or do anything else, if they sleep at all?

What is your slugcat afraid of? What is their biggest fear at all?

Is your slugcat afflicted with any conditions (illness, injury, anatomy quirks, etc.)? How do they live with these conditions?

How does your slugcat speak? Verbal noises? Body gestures? Drawing? etc.

If your slugcat could have an inventory of three items, what would they carry/wear?

Describe your slugcat's campaign, as if it were a playable character. Would it be difficult? What type of regions would the player travel through? What is the story?

[akaashisupremacy]

Yours Truly

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo try to pick up the pieces, he wonders if you can still give him a second chance. Will you? 

Notes: Broke my heart in half to write this fic for Gojo ✌️😩

Gojo Satoru  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: ANGST AND PINING, exes to friends to ??, commitment issues lol, some fluff if you wink (wc: 1.1k) 

“What are you doing here?” you exclaim in the dark, stumbling back at the shadow that looms in front of you.

You’ve bumped into Gojo Satoru in the kitchen commons. He’s fresh out of the shower, hair still dripping. His presence is definitely visible because it’s past midnight and all you can hear up to this point are the crickets.

“What are you doing here?” he looks accusingly at you with his eyes wide, “I live and work here!”

He has one hand on his hip and another on a mug of coffee. His reply irks you. He supposedly asked you out on a date tonight and he cancelled last minute for what you thought was a job that was just taking longer than expected again. Was he home all this time?

You were wary of Gojo when he asked you out recently. Not only was he your ex-fiancee, he also has a playboy reputation.

“I’m here to make myself dinner after a long day of working on the school barriers.” you sniff, “And I’m also here to ask why you couldn't  meet up with me. Again.”

You glare. He shifts uncomfortably on the doorway.

“Can you make up your mind about me? I know you want to fix things, but if you’re going to keep cancelling, might as well stop. We don’t have to date or hang out.” you scowl.

He pulls out a chair for you to sit down. “Let me make things up to you. I’ll make dinner for the both of us. I haven’t eaten either. Just got home.”

“Oh,” you remark. Ok, maybe he hasn’t been home all this time.

You quietly sit as he prepares a quick dinner for the both of you. He’s never cooked for you before. It was always you who did the cooking, granted you were arranged to be married when you were kids and you stopped talking as teenagers. It’s complicated.

You watch him put pots on the stove and chop vegetables up on your old school kitchen counter. It’s too quiet, too late, too dark in here. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” you murmur.

He shakes his head.

“Your instincts aren’t wrong. Part of me wishes that us trying to date would end badly to prove that I was right all along, that there was no way this could work. But part of me wants to be wrong for once. I think you would like to grow old with me and all that stuff.” he admits, throwing vegetables into a pan without looking at you.

“This isn’t going to work if you’re just doing this for me.” you reply.

The sizzling of the vegetables almost covers up his next words, “It’s just difficult for me to admit that I have feelings for you, ok?”

“You’re endlessly kind to me and I’m the type to take advantage of kindness. I don’t want to drain you.”

You scoff, “I’m not 15 anymore. I have more boundaries. Give me some credit. You overestimate my compassion.”

As he continues to cook, his bandages start coming loose. His usual black cover for his eyes is gone. It must be laundry day. You stand to tie them for him. Your fingers are nimble, deftly untying the sloppy knots he put up in a rush and retying them firmly.

“You still remember.” he notes with surprise.

“You taught me. How could I forget?” you remark softly, returning to your seat and crossing your arms.

While he plates the food, he asks another question. The kitchen is barely lit. A single light bulb above the table is all the light there is. His shadow follows him as he moves.

“How could you still treat me like this?” he finally sits across you, words peeling with intense sentiment.

“Like what?” you ask curiously.

“Like I’m worth a second chance.”

You smile drily, trying to hide the pain beneath your eyes. You too wonder if he's worth another shot. Although your head knows that maybe he isn't, your heart says otherwise.

“I’ve accepted my lot in life, that I’m not going to deserve everything I get. Sometimes it’s just arbitrary.“ you sigh, “It sucks sometimes. I did get the short end of the stick, but I don’t want to shut you out of my life because of that.”

Gojo pauses with his chopsticks midway between his mouth and his food. He puts them down.

“You’re too much of a saint for me.”

“And you’re a sucker for that apparently.” you half-snort, half-roll your eyes. He can’t help chuckling.

His pauses then his face is serious all of a sudden.

“You know how Ieiri-san always jokes that I’m always a little in love with you? Well it’s true. I’m still a little in love with you and I grow more in love with you every time I see you. I don’t really know why.” His voice is a mix of bitterness, heartbreak and confusion.

You put your utensils down and reach out from under the table to grasp his fingers.

“I haven’t changed.” he hesitates to take your hand, his face ridden with guilt. He pulls away, “Don’t do this.”

You gently shake your head and indignantly keep your hands out.

“This isn’t about that. This is about being here for you, even if I'm not your fiancée. I’m here as just me.”

“How can you be so kind after I’ve hurt you all these years?” he asks, completely stupefied. 

“I came to the conclusion that you didn’t intend to hurt me.” you shrug,  “When you chose to be with other people, it wasn’t because you didn’t like me or wanted to spite me. It was because of things outside of our relationship: the familial pressure, the control and so on.”

“If it was just the two of us, you wouldn’t spite me. You have no reason to.” you add softly. He finally reaches out to hold you. His hands are not too warm or calloused. His fingers are slender and his grip firm.

Gojo is moved beyond words. He’s used to receiving attention and affection, but always in exchange for something: his time, his body, his power. You’ve never asked any of that. You give yourself unconditionally with all the tenderness you could spare, asking nothing in return.

What is this feeling? Hope? Redemption? Vindication? Whatever it is, it pushed him to look at you, quelling the sob rising in his chest.

How far you’ve both come. How far you have left to go.

After the meal, he insists on cleaning up. He turns to you when he’s done. You’ve passed out with your hand on the table. It’s been a long day.

Gojo shuffles through the nearby rooms for some clean blankets. He drapes one over your shoulders and readies to turn off the light in the kitchen. Right before he leaves, he catches a glance at you. He goes back to get another blanket and pulls out the chair in front of you and closes his eyes. He has a lot of time to make up for.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. This is 3 out 4 so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of the releases! 😊

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! :D

Series Taglist: @shamelessdonutsludgebanana @kageyamakock @shirostrbl @luvang3l @cloudsinthecosmos @httpjungoo @saturnki  @itstheee-ha-chan @gucci-froggy @cherryonigiri

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

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[noctilucid]

DannyMay Day 15: Nature

**References my Day 4 (Stars) drabble, but stands alone.**

"Circle up everybody!" Ms. Teslaff barked, rapping her walking stick on a boulder embedded in the trail.  "This camping trip is required by the state to be educational.  Therefore, you will be given a group assignment designed to meet municipal standards."  Mr. Lancer opened his messenger bag and started passing around packets and paper bags.  A ripple of complaints and muttered curses spread out through the group.  "You will be assigned a partner, and together you will search for and identify these plants.  Bring back a leaf for each plant in the packet to receive full credit."  

Paulina grimaced and looked down at her shoes for the tenth time that day.  She had thought they'd stay close to the cabins for this trip, and her usual cute flats would have served her just fine on the broad, packed paths cut by hundreds of students' feet in the years before.  But here she was, hiking in them.  The mud was bad enough, but all the uneven terrain was putting creases in the material every time she had to put her weight on the balls of her feet.  And now she was expected to go on a scavenger hunt?  What was she, five?  

"Paulina," Mr. Lancer said with a tired drawl as he read the names written on the brown paper bag on the top of his stack, "you will be partnered with Sam Manson."  He handed her the bag and a packet before moving on to the next group.  

Uhg, perfecto.  I'm with Creepy Manson.  They did this on purpose, didn't they?  Paulina cut her eyes at Sam as she stomped over in her combat boots, looking equally thrilled.  

"How many plants do we have to find?" Sam sighed, taking the packet from her.  She flipped through the pages.  "Well, at least these are all pretty distinctive."  

"I'm sure you're disappointed none of them can lay eggs in my face," Paulina returned with an edge.  She still hadn't forgiven Sam for that incident at the aquarium all those years ago.  

Sam narrowed her eyes, not looking up from the paper.  "Spores."

"What?"

"Plants don't lay eggs.  Some of them have spores."  She folded back a few pages and held up a picture of a fern they were supposed to locate.  "This one can lay spores in your face."  

Paulina raised her hand and waved at the teachers.  "Miss Teslaff, I want a different partner!  I don't want Sam to murder me and bury my body in the woods.  I'm too pretty to die."  

"No changing groups!"  

Paulina huffed and crossed her arms.  "Tough break," Dash said to her as he and Valarie headed off on one of the forks in the path.  

"Good luck!" Kwan chimed in, who was paired with Tucker.  "Hey, you got a plant identifying app on that thing…?"

"Do I ever!"  

Danny put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he followed Mikey uphill.  "Try not to be too hard on her?"  

"No promises," Sam grumbled.  

Soon the path had cleared out except for the two of them and two pairs of band nerds peering over their packets together.  

"Come on, let's get this over with," Sam said at length, grabbing Paulina by the wrist and hauling her off in a random direction.  

"Ow!  Hey, get off of me!"  

Sam did let go, and then scuffled up a tumble of boulders to a trail on higher ground.  Paulina let out a dramatic and frustrated groan before following her up much more slowly.  By the time she caught back up, Sam was standing in the shade of a tree growing out of a split in the rock, studying the packet again.  

"Oriental Thuja?" she said, forehead creased.  "Why would they even put that on here?  It's not native to this area."  

"So we won't be able to find it?" How much is this stupid assignment worth anyway?

"No, it could be here, but it's invasive."

Paulina rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you're going to be sacrimonious about plants now too."  

"Oh, of course," Sam returned.  "Because you only like nature if it's pretty and flatters you.  You can't be bothered to learn about something complicated like an ecosystem."  She headed down the trail at a brisk walk, grabbing a sapling and using it as a hand-hold as she swung herself down another steep portion.  

"Would you stop doing that?" Paulina yelled after her, but Sam didn't slow down.  "¡Joder!" she swore under her breath.  Somehow, she was going to make Sam regret this by the end of the day.  She just had to figure out how.  

***

A brooding 45 minutes later, and Sam had found five of the plants they were looking for with little help from Paulina.  

"Next is the purple coned larch…" Sam said, more to the paper held in front of her face than to Paulina.  "We should probably go uphill to look for it…"  Paulina died a little more inside.  No more climbing hills!

"Oh, is that one of the ones that's going to lay spores in my face?" Paulina sniped as Sam strode on ahead for the hundredth time.  "I guess you would end up with some weird kinks after being possessed by an ugly plant ghost."  

"You're the one who brought up the face eggs," Sam said, nonchalant, and notably not slowing down.  "I think that says more about you than about me."  

Paulina clenched her fists.  "Ugh!  You're such a freak, you know that?"

"Aaaand personal attacks mean you have no convincing arguments left in your arsenal!  Looks like it's Sam two, Paulina zero for the day so far."  Sam was steadily moving out of range, and Paulina was forced to follow if she wanted to continue the argument.  She was busy trying to think of a better jab while watching where she put her feet, but Sam beat her to the punch.  "It's kind of sad that you're still hung up on this actually.  Move on already."

Paulina gritted her teeth as the angle of the slope forced her to grab a muddy point of rock to haul herself up with.  "Would it kill you to apologize?  ¡Dios mío!”

"For what?"

"For harassing me with a starfish, Miss Don't-Be-Cruel-To-Animals!"  She stood up and tried to wipe her hand clean on a tree trunk.  "And I mean a real apology, not that stupid letter the teacher made you write."  

"Oh, yeah, to be clear, I didn't mean that apology letter."  

"It was clear," Paulina said, quiet and venomous.    

"I hope you shredded it or something.  I'm kind of embarrassed to have my name on the bottom of it."  

"I threw it in the fireplace as soon as I got home that day."  

"Well, that's a relief," Sam said with a performative grin.  "And no, after what you did to Danny, you'd better believe I'd eat a hot dog before I'd apologize to you."  

"I only went out with Danny to get under your skin!"

"Exactly."

Paulina's hands spasmed between gestures as she tried to collect herself.  "Did you ever think that maybe, if you weren't such a self-absorbed piece of shit, maybe your friends wouldn't get hurt as much?"

Sam's face went blank for a telling second before she focused back on the paper.  Paulina was a little surprised that jab had worked, actually, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She couldn't think of anything to follow up with, so she decided to allow the silence to be her victory.

And she's back to climbing again.  Someone kill me…

They had almost reached the summit of the hill they were on— Paulina was debating to herself whether it was tall enough to be considered a mountain— when Sam finally found what she was looking for.  The tree she was examining was scrawny and gnarled, squeezing its roots into the veins of available soil, and it was barely taller than they were.  

"I think this is it.  The needles look the same," Sam said, holding up the page for comparison.  "It would help if the picture wasn't in black and white, though."

Paulina cast a glance over the diagram and the plant in front of them.  "No, it doesn't have the little cones," she grumbled.  I swear to god, if we have to climb any higher…

"This one's pretty young.  I don't think it's old enough to have fruited before.  They take a couple of years to get established."  

"Well how can you tell if this is the right one?  There's a thousand different Christmas trees on this hill, and they all look the same."  Paulina shook her head.  "You know, whatever.  Let's just take a branch and go—"  She sputtered to a stop as Sam pushed the packet and paper bag full of samples into her hands.  Paulina adjusted the materials in her hands and watched as Sam stooped down, fished in her combat boot with two fingers, and pulled out something long and thin.  She pulled off the makeshift cap, revealing the stubby tip of a well-used oil pencil.  

Kneeling in front of the tree, Sam drew some intricate shape on the trunk with the dark blue pigment, then murmured something Paulina didn't catch.  In the shadow of the trees branches, Paulina saw the symbol glow faintly green, and the same light snaked up the tree along the ridges in the bark until it reached the closest branch.  With a quiver, the end of the branch put out fresh needles and then a tiny purple cone.  

"See?" Sam said, breaking off the end of the branch.  "Perfect match."

Paulina gaped like a fish. "You— Holy shit, you—"  Magic.  That was honest to god magic!  Paulina felt lightheaded.  She had been… dabbling.  Combing the internet and old bookstores.  At first, she had hoped to find a spell that could summon a ghost, or anything else she could use to get Phantom's attention.  But as the weeks had stretched into months, she had become desperate to find any scrap of genuine magic.  And here it was.  

"Are you— is that Wicca?" she finally managed.

Sam shook her head.  "Semitic Neopaganism.  There's a difference."  

Paulina paused to think on it.  Could I learn Jewish magic if I'm not Jewish?  Would it even work for me?  She chewed on her lip.  What am I saying?  There's no way Manson would teach me anything in the first place.  Then Sam started speaking softly, and Paulina had to shake out of her thoughts to catch it.

"I did think about apologizing," Sam said.  "Properly.  I was… kind of a mess in fifth grade.  Um.  And sixth and seventh too, actually."  Her eyes remained focused on the pine sprig in her hand as she spoke, slowly rotating it between her fingers.  "I've never liked you.  But that didn't make it right for me to pick on you."  She stood up and took back their paper bag, tucking the sample inside.  "But then you pulled Danny into it.  So, I'll never apologize."  She finally looked up and met Paulina's gaze.  "And neither will you."  Paulina opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Sam was an image of perfect calm.  It was not an accusation, not a barb, just a statement.  And Paulina had no idea how to respond.  "We're both petty bitches," Sam continued. "It's in our natures.  So… let's just move on."  She extended a hand to Paulina.  "Deal?"  

The offered hand was stiff and formal, as if this were a business meeting rather than two sweaty girls talking on a hiking trail, but Paulina saw an earnestness in it.  Slowly, she reached out and slid her own palm into Sam's.  

"Deal."  She watched Sam for a moment, her unwavering gaze, the ridiculous purple contacts, the stillness which had come over her, like a stone come to rest.  Not sophisticated or refined, as Paulina sought to be, but… very Sam.  Very self-assured, in a way Paulina pretended not to admire.  "We don't like each other."

"Naturally."  Sam released her hand and turned to head back down the slope.  

"But we… don't hate each other either.  We just... are.  Now."  

Paulina saw the little quirk of a smile enter Sam's lips.  "Yeah."  

"And maybe… we can talk about magic sometimes?"  She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Like, over text, so nobody gets the wrong idea?"

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah.  That sounds fun."  

A smile crept over Paulina's face in spite of her attempt to hide it.  Oh, what does it matter?  Sam's not looking at me anyway.  She gave herself a moment to squeal silently in her head.  Real magic!  She'd found someone who knew real magic!  She shook her head again.  Of course it would be Manson.  Of course.  

She picked up her pace, in spite of her sore feet, in spite of the damage she was doing to her shoes, to catch up to Sam.  It was easier going downhill.  "What do we still have to find?"  

Sam extended the packet to her, pointing to one of the plants.  "Just two left, lady fern and honeysuckle.  They both like to grow near water, so I saved them for last.  We can head down and check the creek on our way back."  Oh thank god, we're almost done.  Paulina leaned in to get a better look at the fern diagram.  "You know, there's a spell I've been working on that uses ferns.  Maybe we should grab a couple extra?"  

Paulina squealed out loud this time, and clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers.  "Solemn.  Solemn goth witch."  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look composed.  Sam laughed.  

"Nah, you don't have the wardrobe for that.  Go on, be as pink as you'd like."  She stepped down a bank of tree roots and held a branch back for Paulina to follow in her wake.  Paulina paused in surprise before accepting the gesture.

This will take some getting used to.  

[lmolm]

I 100% agree with you on Jae, I think there are alot of mydays who blindly support him but I would prefer a 4 member return. He needs to go through a LOT of growth on his own it seems like, hopefully away from the horrible streamers he's made his friend group now but 😐 also in some of the statements it sounds like he fought with members a bit with the shady comments. Even if you're bitter I don't find it professional or mature to throw that out there even if you feel you have nothing to lose at that point knowing you're leaving the agency. All I know is I have a shoot me Jae pc I already wanted to trade before this I want gone 😭 I also feel like I can't say this on my day6 blog w/ thousands of followers without being torn to shreds

yeah that's so 🥴 weird to see ppl literally stepping over their own morals to support a man who literally laughs at u with his edgy racist friend group. please respect yourself baby he's not worth it i promise

and oooohhh i have SOOOO MUCH to say about his friends! it was painfully obvious when back in 2018 he was buddies with very questionable ppl!! but i had a cognitive dissonance and was trying so hard to rationalize it. after all, an apple doesn't fall far from the tree. never will.

and the worst part is that these people are literal incels and racists and they're shitting and bashing on kpop & kpop artists (which he was like 24 hours ago) and he's like "haha oh yeaaaah kpop bad" LIKE???? THATS SUCH A PICK ME BEHAVIOR PLEASEEE god i feel sick in the stomach

and i can't (lord i fucking can't!!!!) even BEGIN on why his comments about day6 were incredibly rude, gross and highly unprofessional and he should've been gone since these words left his mouth. imagine just imagine working ur entire and whole booty off for 7 years only to be called inauthentic by your own team member. idk.

and to top it off with the fact that he's simply being jealous of other members being more popular & getting more promos (?) LAWLLLLL........ maybe he should've picked up the phone when his agency called him with work offers instead of being a little whiny bitch? like i can't believe he's admitted that he wasn't picking up bc he got mad at jype for taking away his twitch account 💀 if this is not peak undeveloped immature little boy tantrum example then idk what is.

and fucking finally, the gaslighting and mistreatment of his own FANS who literally keep the food on his table. the ignorance. the horridness. the absolute atrocity is INSANE. he genuinely needs therapy. i hope he'll be able to overcome this and grow into a better person because deep down i want to believe he's a good man and he can learn.

also sell that pc babyyyyy! get the bag! i hope you'll get some good $$$ for it 🥰

[tfw-tajaaa]

𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓␈

𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚑, 𝚢𝚎𝚜.

Sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: love hurts, it hurts even worse when it isn't yours anymore.

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑵𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒅

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑰'𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

He was your rock, quite literally the love of your life. He was everything you could have dreamed of, but not even that creative little noggin of yours could have imagined someone as beautiful as he. He gave you kisses whenever, he rubbed your back whenever you were sad, he kept you water bottles when you were puking so bad from the night before, he even kept extra hoodies on deck... just incase. He gave you just as much as you gave him. The whole relationship was 50/50, you guys were the "i'll do the dishes because you cooked" type. And you wouldn't want it any other way. He was yours, not to share with the world but to be a pillar in a "well-grounded" relationship.

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒕

𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅.

You were trying so hard to move on, you started showering again and doing your personal hygeine. It was such a step up and a big personal achievement, until you saw him all up on 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. (if i see ANYONE, bashing this bit talking about "who doesn't shower just because they're sad" just know you will be educated and then blocked.) It felt like that achievement just went down the drain, he was so unbothered. He was so nonchalant about this whole ordeal, it was like he didn't care that he ripped your heart out, stomped on it, and then walked away. He was happy. Why couldn't you have that happiness? Why were you stuck with this dull throbbing in your chest whenever you tried to perform knowing he was next? Why did he get to move on as normal?

𝑨 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒔

𝑶𝒏 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑰'𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚

"I love you so much, you mean the world to me darling." He was holding them the same way he held you not even a week ago. You laid at night laughing to yourself because you felt so foolish. Those laughs were breathless and broken, turning to gasps as you cried your soul out. You cried so many tears your friends were worried about your electrolytes were becoming imbalanced, so they bought you gatorade to last a lifetime. At least you had them. After this, you didn't know what to say to yourself as you faced your reflection everyday. Your once beautiful eyes were puffy, glassy, and red as you left for classes every morning. At least it was college, you could pass it off as a fun time last night... even if the whole campus knew about your horrid relationship end.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝒂 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝒂 𝑴𝑷𝑫𝑮 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒕

𝑶𝒓 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎

𝑳𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒇

𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒚 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒔

𝑶𝒓 𝑰'𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕

You were the sad soul in the dorm room living out what you felt was your soul leaving your body with every tear spilled or with every meal skipped due to your emotions eating you. You just didn't get how he got to have a happily ever after while you were sick with the overwhelming hurt. This was shitty. This was not what you imagined your college years to be like that. You weren't just let down, but so was that 10 year old version of you. They were fucking hurt, man.

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐𝒐

𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

You knew he loved you, you KNEW he did. But you don't know where it went wrong, where you went wrong. You didn't go wrong but a part of you just feels like maybe you could have loved him more. Maybe if you lived him more for 6 seconds, he would have stayed for a week or so more. It was stupid, but anything to think he would stay. You loved him in waves, did he drown?

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆

𝑰 𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕

𝑰𝒕 𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒅 𝒏𝒐.

You and him were at the TOP of the world together, you felt invincible when with him. Not a soul could tell you a damn thing, he was your sliver of confidence but oh my. Now he was gone, and being someone else's sliver of hope in this wretched world. You were eating away, parts of you were falling away and never to be collected again. Where were they going? you don't know, maybe with him, but they weren't coming back.

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝒊'𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒕

𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒔

A small part held on to the fact that maybe, MAYBE he'd see how he hurt you and share the pain you were in. Which would lead him to come back, you didn't wanna get better. You wanted him to see how bad the pain was. It was excruciating and he didn't have any of it. You know he'll never feel sorry for the pain you're in, but that doesn't matter anymore, now does it? He deserved to have his heart ripped to shreds, he deserved for his heart to be stomped on and screamed at. In your eyes at least, because well... you were the one rotting away. Fuck whatever "help" was gonna be given from your friends, they didn't understand what you were going through... (yes they did, but you were being selfish.)

𝑾𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒅

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒔𝒂𝒅

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚

𝑨 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒕

In the midst of this panic and hurt, you remembered the liquor that was kept underneath your bed. It was his, and you figured he didn't need it... seeing how joyous he had been lately. It was maybe 4 bottles of vodka and whiskey. A single flask of bourbon. By the time you woke up in the morning it was 2 bottles of vodka left, a bottle of whiskey, and half a flask of bourbon. You weren't feeling too hot, you'd never have that again. Your head was pounding and your stomach was twisting in knots, classes weren't that important today. Something greasy, plenty of water, and an aspirin should do the trick... but after this nap.

𝑰𝒎 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒕

𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒘𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒏

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒅

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒊 𝒄𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍

𝑰'𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍

Your laugh was something we were all starting to miss. It seemed like a foreign idea to have you smile now. Why let him take away your ability to feel happy? (why let him take away the parts you built for yourself) It was the idea that you just felt like you couldn't. Crying on the other hand, that was for the late late hours of the night, almost morning. That was for when you were alone and the pain seemed to come in crashing waves.. were you drowning? Silence was something that took up so much of your time. It just seemed as though the silence was so strong in a room full of chattering people. Was this who you were now? Emotionally unavailable? It hurt, it hurt so bad but you couldn't help how this situation made you feel. It felt like skydiving without a parachute. It felt like falling without being pushed. It felt like shame, but not from second hand embarrassment.

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐𝒐

𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆, 𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐

There wasn't a shadow of a doubt from you and the people around you that he loved you to pieces. You knew he would do anything for you because he had before, but what you didn't know was what did his new lover have that you didn't? (you're the total package babe, anyway) You earned the right to be his lover, and what the FUCK did they do?. He held you on so many nights, telling you that you were worth every ounce of love you were receiving. Did he do that to them? or were they just not insecure? like how you were on some nights. You loved him, you were always his shoulder to cry on, his baby, his life. But what did that make them? a home wrecker? What did that make him? Why had he done this? So many questions, some rational some stupid, were left unanswered by the situation at fault. Speaking of fault, whose fault was it now that you were over? Maybe it was his for explicitly ending it or was it yours for doing something not his liking? It all seemed too fast, but it had been a month since the break up yet you still felt like SHIT.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒅 𝒏𝒐

𝑶𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆?

You knew he saw how hurt you were, you knew he felt it in his heart when he looked at your form sulken in your chair at class. Anyone could tell but you knew that he had known when you locked eyes with him and flipped him off before returning to your computer where the over priced text book was pulled up. He shrugged his shoulders before returning back to his computer and pulling out his phone. "Probably to text them back" Classes went on as usual, the tension only thickening before the professor declared you all done for the day.

𝑵𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒕

𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒔

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

You were convinced after 2 months that you will forever look for him in every person you date. Or try to date. As of right now, you were a mess. As far as you were concerned, no one was good enough for you besides your ex-boyfriend.

𝑰 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕

𝑶𝒇 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕

𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕

𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕'𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

Was it supposed to hurt for this long? It was coming up 3 months, and you saw him flourishing every day. You were now getting this panic that no matter what happens, you'd be this wreck for the rest of your life. You cleaned up your room, got rid of bottles, opened the curtains, even changed around some furniture. The air seemed fresh, you had more space. You felt... better? Until you came across the small box that contained a trinket from all your dates with him. You would do it all again if that meant you got back those years with him... you would even go through this pain again.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏 𝑶𝑪𝑫 𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆

𝑶𝒓 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒅

𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒑 𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘

𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒌𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕

You're heart was there, no matter how many times you swore the thump was in your throat and on its way out when you cried silently wanting to scream. This felt like some type of disease you couldn't get rid of. Some days you were great and most of the other days you were in a ball on your mattress that now had the faint smell of alcohol and it squeaked like mad.

𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆

𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝑰 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘

𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅

He loved you. You loved him. He was now moving on, and you were stuck wallowing in the self pity that came from the messy break up on your end. You learned a few thing about yourself though. Never put your all into something you aren't sure will even last and Never revolve your world around someone who can move on in an instant. After all this time, Mallory decided to take you out to the diner up the road. "You gotta eat a full meal, and we'll stay here until closing until you do. This isn't healthy y/n." you didn't mind eating, you needed something on your stomach if tonight went like all the other nights. Drunken as the sun came up with tears running down your face until you passed out. So you ate.

𝑰 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑰 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝑰 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆

You were not well. But you were getting better, you knew you were as the alcohol bottles cleared from your room and with one step at a time, you were also getting rid of any traces of him. You did your hair, took showers, brushed your teeth, washed your face, did laundry, you were doing the best you could and sometimes that's all we can ask for. You were getting there.

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒎 𝑰 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒅𝒐?

"I'm not angry anymore, well, sometimes i am. I don't hate you as much as i used to Malcolm Gallant. And i hope i never see you again, but if we were to cross paths. May you do well, but i do better." you declared to yourself as you threw out the last of what was left of him in the campus dumpster. With a turn of the heel, a dust of the hands, and your nose held high... you felt different. You Felt Better.

���■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

𝐇𝐞𝐲 @mossybank 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐒𝐨, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

[rextasywrites]

Little Darling 6 - a Lady Dimitrescu x Mia Winters fanfiction

"Decisions over decisions, Mia’s head felt fuzzy and every word said to her felt like it was coming through a layer of cotton wool. Why her? Why couldn’t she make mundane decisions like which kindergarten Rosy should go to? Who is allowed at her birthday sleepover? “Mia?”, Lady Dimitrescu asked again, shaking Mia’s shoulder gently. Mia finally ripped out of her thoughts as the memories had consumed her. “Sorry, I...drifted off.”, Mia sighed and rubbed her tired eyes, trying to take in again what was in front of her. Lady Dimitrescu had laid out a plan of the lab where they suppose Rosy was kept. It was quite a distance away, but nothing they couldn’t tackle. “Sorry Alcina.”"

the end is getting closer. will they find Rosy? where is Ethan? and can Mia trust her own self anymore?   

tw for implied rape at the second half of the chapter! be safe and enjoy reading! <3 <3 <3

Warnings: implied rape mention, mental illnesses

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4 Part 5

“Wakey wakey! I made breakfast for you!”, Marguerite yelled through the bars of Mia’s ‘room’, pushing the plate with her meal under the bars. “You better eat it all up! I stood in the kitchen for hours to make this!”, she ranted as she stepped away from the room, back outside into their own so-called ‘freedom’. But freedom was different to everyone.

The things which were edible were consumed by Mia in no time, the hunger spreading through her veins just like the mold did. The rest of the organs were flushed down the toilet, never to be seen again. Has no one ever noticed that human organs were in the sewage system? The human meat that was cooked tasted like veal and had about the consistency of an old shoe. But Mia took what she could get to survive. In this moment, Mia wished that she could go back to Ethan’s cooking - the man who managed to give her food poisoning on their first anniversary because he misread instructions. But hey, everything was better than the garbage she got here.

“Don’t you worry.”, Eveline appeared in her room, making Mia and her weak frame jump in surprise, “Ethan will be here soon and then we will be a happy family! You cannot escape from me! Never ever! We will be a happy family!”

Decisions over decisions, Mia’s head felt fuzzy and every word said to her felt like it was coming through a layer of cotton wool. Why her? Why couldn’t she make mundane decisions like which kindergarten Rosy should go to? Who is allowed at her birthday sleepover? “Mia?”, Lady Dimitrescu asked again, shaking Mia’s shoulder gently. Mia finally ripped out of her thoughts as the memories had consumed her. 

“Sorry, I...drifted off.”, Mia sighed and rubbed her tired eyes, trying to take in again what was in front of her. Lady Dimitrescu had laid out a plan of the lab where they suppose Rosy was kept. It was quite a distance away, but nothing they couldn’t tackle. “Sorry Alcina.”

“We will head there tomorrow in the early morning hours. Daniela, you take care of the exit by the mountain. Bela, Cassandra, you tackle the main entrance. Mia and I will run in once the guards are down. Daniela, you head into the building from the exit. There aren’t many guards back there, but the way into the lab is ways more complicated. Bela, Cassandra, you go with Mia and me.”, Lady Dimitrescu started to explain. “The early morning hours are the best time to attack. The change of shifts is still some hours away but the night shift guards are tired by this point. We take them by surprise.”

The daughters nodded, bloodlust spreading over the faces. Like some foxes who had just entered a chicken house, ready to shred everything into tiny pieces before swimming in the blood. What a sight, how devoted they were to their mother! Would Rosy be as devoted to Mia once she grows up?

“Until then, we should rest and make sure we are ready for what’s about to come. And the main objects of this are - keeping Mia safe and rescuing Rosy.”, Lady Dimitrescu added, but then...then something overcame Mia. A sense of dread. Crawling up her throat like a spider, clinging on her insides.

“And Ethan?”, she asked Lady Dimitrescu.

Lady Dimitrescu nodded when Mia asked, “I was wondering when you would ask about him. He is on the way to the lab. By foot, it will take him longer than us. He will come to a bloodbath already done. Gives him a break too.”

*

The rare steak in front of Mia made her stomach turn. Lady Dimitrescu had ordered a big dinner for all of the women in the castle, prepared by Bela, who used to be the best cook before. They didn’t have to consume anything besides blood, but ‘normal’ human foods were always an energy boost for them. Just what they needed.

“Not hungry?”, Cassandra asked over the table once she realized Mia had only eaten the green beans and potatoes so far,

Mia shook her head, “I am hungry, I just...can’t eat meat.”

“You ate the ham in the bread roll before just fine.”, Daniela threw in with a frown, not happy that Mia disregarded her sister’s cooking.

“No, it’s…”, Mia sighed as she buried her face in her hands, trying to get rid of memories bubbling under her skin like lava in an active volcano. “It’s about the texture. I can stomach processed meat like this ham you gave me. It was tasty, thank you, but meat in this form...it reminds me too much of what I had to eat back then.”

The daughters shared looks of confusion, “What did they give you to eat?”, Bela broke the silence out of curiosity. Lady Dimitrescu gave her a look of ‘shut the hell up child’, but Mia was ready to tell them.

“I had been captured in a basement for three years and given nothing but human meat and organs.”

Silence laid over the table for several seconds before Cassandra broke through the awkwardness, “Now that’s royally fucked up.” And if a VAMPIRE tells you your past is fucked up, then you have won at life, Mia thought to herself.

“Thank you very much for the dinner, I am just...not hungry anymore.”, and with those words, Mia left the table to hide herself in the room provided to her.

*

“Mia?”, Lady Dimitrescu asked into the room. Mia groaned from her bed, sitting straight up to face Lady Dimitrescu.

“I am awake.”, Mia said, blinking several times to convince herself of what she just said. “What’s the matter Alcina?”

Lady Dimitrescu sat by her bedside, placing a hand on Mia’s, “I just wanted to check in how my guest is doing. I know all of this takes a toll on you....So, if you want to talk, I am here for you.”

Mia nodded, wrapping her fingers around Lady Dimitrescu’s ice cold hand, “It’s just...everything is so triggering. Everything reminds me of the torture I had to face. I wasn’t just kept in a basement for three years. I was beaten, hit, used…”

“Used as…”

“Eveline convinced them to build a family. I was the only one who could provide them…”, Mia swallowed dry at the memories flicking in front of her vision. “Those were the worst times. I could barely walk the days after.”

Lady Dimitrescu shook her head when she heard what had happened to Mia, eight cars pile up on the memory lane. “I experienced something similar. People thought I was a witch so I was worth less than dirt to them. In return I killed everyone who only as much as broke off one of my hairs. It was a bloodbath and I stood in blood up to my knees. I think I have the dress from back then somewhere.”

“What did we do to deserve this, Alcina?”

“I don’t know. All I can do is promise you to keep you safe. You are safe with me, Mia. Safer than anywhere else.”, Lady Dimitrescu spoke. Her hands were now cupping Mia’s cheeks, wiping away a stray tear rolling down her skin. “I promise you. Stay as sweet as you are and nothing will hurt you.

Mia could feel the bound between them pulling her closer to the vampire in front of her, and against all common sense, she tilted her head to lean in into a kiss. It was short and sweet, and not long enough in both of their eyes - but no one admitted it.

As Mia opened her eyes, she pulled a frown, “Don’t...don’t tell Ethan I did that, okay? I...I don’t know what just...overcame me. I am sorry Alcina.”

“Don’t be sorry, my dearest. It was a sign of trust, and I appreciate this. Remember. I will keep you safe and that’s a vow I will never break.”

[newcaptainofsquad9]

I Can’t Handle You Being Back~Chou Tzuyu x black! fem! reader {1}

Pairing: Tzuyu x reader

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 

Summary: Five years after your elimination from Sixteen, you remained in the United States, working on music, writing songs, dancing here, and there. All of the memories and incidents from the reality show still burns in your memory, you all but let them go until you get a familiar call from the man who sought out your talents in the first place, Jinyoung Park. The man had an offer you should have refused, but you longed to see your friends again.

  Genre: Angst, Idol-Verse, Romance, Slow Burn (not too slow), Hurt and Comfort, Best Friends to Lovers

Warnings: The reader is a Black woman and there will be parts when she has to deal with racist and close minded people(aka fans, netizens and others). If ya’ll read my Yoongi story, or unfinished Suho story, it’ll be a little bit like that.

  Word Count: 1, 831

Writer’s Note: More Twice fics are coming! Along with a masterlist of all my K-pop fanfictions! It’ll take a minute but it will be here and pinned on my blog so you guys can access it. Also! I want to point out that this is fictional and fictional depictions of idols and figures, just wanted to put that disclaimer. Here is another fic that will take me forever to finish like my others but regardless of that, I hope ya’ll enjoy!

I never thought I’d set foot in South Korea again, let alone JYPE’s building. The long, stress-inducing ride up the elevator didn’t ease me as I inhaled and exhaled through it. 

“You didn’t have to take this meeting,” Brittany, my assistant said. “We can just site see here in Korea, you need the break anyway.” 

I caught Brittany’s smile as she moved to put a hand on my shoulder. 

“I know being back here, it’s got to be tough,” she said. 

I nodded, yet she doesn’t know the half of it. Being a military kid had some perks: at childhood I couldn’t stop dancing, and at seventeen, people other than my parents began to notice. Those people being K-Pop scouts. They didn’t only come from JYPE, but other companies as well, although the smaller ones didn’t grant the biggest opportunity. 

JYPE was fond of my dance moves, and the man himself, Jinyoung Park promised a shimmering future. Most of the promises fell short: I didn’t get to train for very long (only a few months) before I was thrust upon the spotlight and cameras in the survival show, Sixteen. I wanted to be a star; JYP wanted a laughing stock, a black woman for views and to show his trainees how to accomplish, “ethnic hip.” I tried my best to be as creative as possible, to last with the competition, but it didn’t please JYP. Nothing I did could please him, I wasn’t the standard. I didn’t even come close. So I left, I played a game that many foreigners couldn’t win, let alone a Black woman. 

The elevator dinged as it opened, breaking me out of my mind. 

“We can turn around right now,” Brittany said. “Your call.”

I shook my head. 

“No, let’s just here what he has to say,” I said. “He did pay for our flight and all.” 

“Yeah, but that will never take back what he and that staff put you through,” she said. 

I smile as Brittany put a hand on my shoulder. Her worrying along with me solidifies this; my nerves are warranted. 

“I know, but maybe it’s just the old spirit from back then,” I said. “As if I have a chance to prove myself again.”

I don’t have to though. I told myself over and over again that I don’t. Yet, why am I here? What’s so important that couldn’t be discussed further over phone or video call?

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

My head jerked up once we stepped out of the elevator. A woman with a Bob and suit gave us both a grin.

“Mr. Park’s office is this way,” she said, leading us down the hall. 

As we pass, people murmured and stared. My name was even mentioned underneath breaths and gasps; I nod at them and only bow halfway as we pass. 

We stop at a door, the woman opened it for us and stepped aside. 

“Thank you,” I said.

Once inside JYP’s office, the dread returned. Just seeing Jinyoung Park slumped against his chair brought back more of the horrid memories. Brittany took my hand, forcing me to take a breath as Jinyoung rose. 

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it!” he said.

He threw his signature grin on, as he held out his hand. I took it. We shook hands before bowing respectfully.  

“You look well,” he said. “I’m glad to finally see you again.”

“Thank you Mr. Park.”

Jinyoung chuckled and gestured to the seat adjacent to his armchair. 

“Please, sit,” he suggested, he turned to Brittany. “You could take my chair if you’d like.”

I successfully didn’t shiver at how nice he was being, yet Brittany couldn’t: she twitched a bit, but hid it well with a quick grin. 

“Thank you,” she said as she plopped down. 

I leaned back, crossed my legs and got down to business. 

“Why’d you fly me out here, Mr. Park?”

Jinyoung chuckled. 

“Well, I’ve been keeping up with your progress as an artist and well, I’m extremely proud of the growth,” he said. 

Brittany and I traded looks of confusion. 

“Thank you,” I said. “You could have led with that over the phone.”

Jinyoung shifted on each leg before hopping up on the edge of his desk to sit. 

“Y/N, I might have made a mistake about you,” he admitted. “You’ve gained quite the following, and shaped into a fine dancer and vocalist.”

“Thank you,” I said. “What is it that you need from me? Did I not show that potential five years ago?”

Jinyoung frowned. 

“Well, yes, but the world wasn’t ready,” he said. “My colleagues weren’t ready, I wasn’t ready.” 

“What are you suggesting?” I said. 

Jinyoung bared his teeth in a mega-watt smile. 

“I’m suggesting a place for you as Twice’s tenth member.”

My heart quickened at his words; Brittany gasped. Did I hear him right? One of the biggest girl groups in Korea--the world bringing on a tenth member? Another member is already controversial enough in the industry(with the likes of Red Velvet getting hate for adding another a year after debut), but an American? A Black woman? The netizens tore me to shreds once, I couldn’t handle that again. 

“What’s the catch?” Brittany asked. “Out of all the contestants eliminated from Sixteen, why Y/N? This is looking rather performative Mr. Park, welcoming back your only black trainee who dealt with so much racism.”

Jinyoung’s eyes softened a bit. 

“I’m still learning from my mistakes,” he said. “You have every right to decline Y/N, but I need someone to ease Twice in towards the west.”

“Why not Somi!” I said. “There’s your westerner, half white! Very digestible to the western world.” 

Jinyoung nodded.

“True, but K-Pop is changing drastically,” he explained. “And I know Twice can hit the west hard, they can adapt to America with someone who knows it. You played against the American entertainment industry and I know you can with the girls.”

“How are you so sure?” I said. 

“You catch onto choreography quick,” he said. “You’ve done almost every Twice cover online, you’ve been Grammy nominated for songs you’ve written it’s a perfect match.” 

“What about stylists?” Brittany asked. “Have you even notified Twice about this offer?”

“I discussed it with their leader, Jihyo and she’s open to it,” he said. “I’m sure she can ease the others into it, I’ve already explained it to them that we’re working towards the west and they understand that.”

My mind spiraled at the thought of Jihyo; she’s come so far, they’ve all worked so hard. Me joining would just throw a wrench in all they’ve accomplished. 

“All of this sounds great in theory,” Brittany said. “But I change like this could make you lose popularity here in Korea, with the Korean public. You’ll lose fans, they’ll drop like flies.”

Jingyoung shrugged. 

“A risk we’ll take,” he said. “Y/N?”

Brittany gave me a sympathetic stare. 

“If I do this, will I get legal protection against hate comments,” I said. “I would be one of your artists officially, you should treat me like one.”

“Of course,” he said. “Will you take these terms, Y/N?”

Brittany shook her head as she gave me a hard look. 

I shouldn’t accept the terms. It’s just like five years ago all over again; I was tricked into becoming a prop of the industry, but somethings different. Jinyoung could go about various ways of doing this, I know I’ll have more benefits this time. 

“I will, if I have a stylist of my choosing,” I said. “And an American manager.” 

“Done,” Jinyoung said. “We can discuss this further, but I want you to meet up with the girls as soon as possible.”

My body shook at the mention of meeting up with Twice. They were my competition at one point, hell many of them I thought hated me. All except one,  Chou Tzuyu. She and some of the maknaes and I were close due to age, but Tzuyu opened up to me the most. She’s been through so much, they all have. 

“Is there any way I can practice and get to know them again,” I said. “Before we start promoting?”

“That was the plan,” Jinyoung said. “You’d be new to the public and fans, but not to Twice. Like working with an old friend.”

Yeah, an old friend who’s forgotten about you and moved on with their life. This would benefit Twice and I, but is it worth the risk to see them again. To see Tzuyu again.

 *     *      *  

“You’re sure this is the right move?” Brittany asked while our black car rolled down the street. 

Right after the meeting with JYP, he insisted I settle into the dorms and meet up with Twice before training. Brittany and I are now in the back of a car with my new manager, Miyoung

“I’m sure.”

Brittany nudged me. 

“You don’t owe him anything. Why are you doing this?” 

I leaned against my side of the car, letting the rapid speed of each car flash and rip by while my eyes slip close. The memories from five years ago swarmed me: Tzuyu and I practicing from night to morning with sweat clinging to us like newborns; the constant words we’d trade about debuting together and visiting each others countries. Tzuyu’s distraught during my elimination, begging me to stay in Korea for her. Maybe I’m doing this to help her and be there for her, if she accepts me. I can’t admit that to Brittany though, relationships that form during adolescent years don’t really last anyway. At least from what I’ve seen. 

The car came to a halt; we’ve arrived at the dorms. 

I sat up, but sunk back down in my seat as I spot all of Twice standing outside, waiting with their managers. 

“We’re ready when you are Y/N,” Miyoung said. 

She and the driver already stepped out the car with expectant looks at me. 

Brittany took my hand and rubbed my knuckle as I composed myself with a few deep breaths. The moment I stepped out, all of Twice cheered and hurried toward me. Sana was first of course, embracing me so tight that I couldn’t breathe.

“Y/N!” she squealed. 

Nayeon hugged me next, then Jihyo, Chaeyoung, Momo, and Dahyun.

“Finally my fellow ‘98 liner is back,” Dahyun teased, making me chuckle as she lightened my mood.

Joengyeon embraced me a bit too tight as well, pulling back with a tiny grin. 

“You look healthy, that’s great,” she said. 

I nodded and glanced over at Tzuyu, who kept her distance. Our eyes met, yet she didn’t smile or come over for a hug like her fellow members. She only perked her lips and waved. I wanted to scream; I felt like crying but I managed to hold the tears back again. 

Mina must have noticed as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder. 

“Are you OK?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” I lied. “It’s great to see you guys again.” 

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 9

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

The angst that arrived last time is now amplified.

Word count: 2326

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

Months went by in a blur. If you weren’t at your desk slaving over the story, you were sleeping or had finally remembered to eat. You excluded yourself from everything in your world, aside from ensuring Binks had everything he needed to survive, just to finish the story as quickly as you could.

Of course, this was at a rate where you wouldn’t substitute the quality of your words either. Despite your constant heartache and yearning for Brian, this was possibly the best piece of work you had ever written to date. The emotions between Charli and Brian’s hardships felt raw and more relatable than ever. You cried when Charli did, and you felt frustrated alongside Brian. You poured all your emotions into this final story, along with every shred of creativity you possessed.

After ten long months, you were now staring at what felt to be the ending scene of Eternity, and this world. You had completed this part in the trilogy faster than the year each it took for the other two respectively, and it was the longest story out of the three.

Shaking as you reread your final line, you took in a deep breath and nodded. “It’s done. It’s finally done.”

And just as your fingers went to type the usual The End into the document, you froze, realising just what time in your life you had reached now. It wasn’t just the satisfaction of finishing the book, and effectively the series too, that consumed you now.

It was the sheer hope that after all your hard work, you could finally see the man you loved again.

“Brian,” you called out whilst staring at the screen. “Brian!”

Nothing happened, and you hesitated before typing the two words onto the document, peering closely to see if he would change them to the words you had become to love from him.

You wanted your story to be continued now. You craved his arms, his smell, his voice. Living vicariously through Charli over the last ten months has barely satiated your need for Brian. Quite often, you would lay awake for hours in bed at night, thinking of him, talking to him. And when you grew desperate, you left your laptop turned on, with the document open, hoping for a reprieve from this maddening loneliness.

Just as fast as your love had bloomed, it had shrivelled away, grounding you into a pot of despair. You didn’t want to get to the end of this story and find yourself alone for good.

And yet, the minutes went by and Brian still didn’t appear.

Jarringly, you clambered to your feet and stumbled to the kitchen, trying to make yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves.

Maybe Brian just needed time to wrap up the loose ends on his side. Even with the story now complete, you hadn’t delivered them a life that guaranteed they wouldn’t face hardships along the way again. In fact, you believed that to be Charli and Brian’s strength – love through their battles. And life was just like that. Whilst they were now together with no further opposition from her family or his past, you knew that every couple faced trials and tribulations. Sure, they had their fair share, and you had assured the reader they would be blessed with happiness together, but you wanted them to remain realistic too.

As you sipped on your tea, your mind started to unravel, your eyes glued to the doorway leading towards your office. Every second Brian didn’t come through it, you began to believe in the doubts plaguing you.

There had to be a chance, somewhere in among your writing of this final piece, that Brian truly began to feel the love you penned for him towards Charli. Whilst he was adamant he loved you when he was here, he didn’t resist the progression of your story at all in that aspect.

Did Brian fall in love with Charli properly this time?

Had you done such a good job at convincing him of her worth at his side?

Was he back where he truly belonged?

Your knees shook, and you clasped onto the countertop, putting down your mug hastily as you felt yourself sink towards the tiles. And there you proceeded to clutch at your shirt, sobbing until you felt numb and overwhelmed.

You had finished their world off and now there was a chance that had ended yours with Brian as well.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself on autopilot. The grief continued, much did the constant begging at your screen and desperation for his return.

Anger settled in after all your efforts felt as if they had gone to waste, and he had left you alone in this cruel world. You cursed him out, only to be wishing for his return a moment later.

Your mental state was a complete mess, and you didn’t know how to pick up the pieces.

You had been convinced that writing the story was the only way to get back to Brian. You had served your time, poured out the words until there were no more. With the story submitted to Lily, and the editor now finalising the work you had done, it wouldn’t be long until it was sent through the process of publication. Fans of Brian and Charli would be reading about their love story by mid next year.

What about your love story with Brian, however?

No one was going to read about you both. No one, aside from Lily, who had long stopped asking you about where he had gone, knew of it to begin with. To Sungjin, he was a cousin’s friend, and when he contacted you, you had mentioned that Brian had gone back home.

This was never his place to begin with.

Your mother, whilst trying ever so hard to placate your mood swings, couldn’t figure out how to help you, because you couldn’t bring the words up to anyone.

You had fallen in love with a figment of your imagination and his existence in your world was so fleeting, that you wondered if those who met Brian had somehow seen a ghost, or something similar. It would make the most sense to you that he actually hadn’t been here and you had simply been possessed by your muse of him.

Yet you knew he had existed here and couldn’t deny it. The clothes remained that you had bought together, his scent slowly fading away from each garment you held onto. Binks often pushed his way into the spare room and sat in the chair Brian wrote in a small book each evening as you worked.

You hadn’t known of the book’s contents until his departure, finding it in among his belongings when you were searching for ways to ease your pain. When you discovered it, however, it made you crumble.

The words he wrote were all about you.

He documented your dramatic ways, the endearing moments you shared, and the feelings he had for you each day. He spoke of how easily provoked he got over Sungjin and later wondered if he was a better fit for you when he knew he was close to leaving. He wrote down goals, some of which he had already achieved with you, and of the nights where he held you close, whispering sweet nothings into your hair as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

The book, the only piece of writing of your story together, felt too difficult for you to read often. The words were already cemented in your mind though, reminding you whenever you doubted your love that it existed.

It was the only thing that kept you going.

Sitting at your desk in the middle of the afternoon, you stared at the document for Eternity for some time before you raised your fingers.

And then you began to type.

It wasn’t your first time trying to message Brian and you were certain it wouldn’t be your last. Still, today had been difficult. It was exactly a year from your first meeting with him, the day he had come out of the laptop and you had fainted upon holding his hand. You longed for it to happen all over again, telling him of your pain from spending an entire year knowing of his existence outside of the story. That the happy days you had shared together felt so lost now with all the time apart.

And how much you loved and missed him.

Once done, you stared at the screen, waiting to see the words go away. That was what happened the first time, and you surmised it meant they went to find him. You willed your words to find their owner, clasping your hands together against your chest and praying internally for something to happen.

They remained, the cursor simply flashing at the end of your paragraph, waiting for your next command of the document.

Slamming the laptop screen closed, you shifted back in your chair, reeling from the feeling of being mocked.

“I can’t keep doing this anymore,” you spoke out into the universe, tears coursing down your cheeks. “I’m going mad. Maybe I was mad to begin with.”

Your phone rang then, and you peered at it, wondering who would be calling you right now. Picking it up, you sighed when you saw the name that crossed over the screen.

“Sungjin.”

“I know this sounds weird, but I had this feeling you needed me,” he spoke into the receiver, and you didn’t respond, the tears still streaming down your face. “Do you?”

“Not in the way you hope for,” you managed to say. “I’m sorry.”

“As a friend, Y/N. I long ago accepted that our initial liking of one another had changed when Brian came into your world.”

“You remember him?!” you asked desperately, gripping onto your phone. “Please tell me you remember him!”

“Has he gone somewhere, Y/N?” Sungjin asked, and you stared at your laptop, slowly opening the screen again.

Somehow, when you shut it, the force had been too much. There across the screen was a single crack, and it was enough to unhinge you completely.

“I’m coming over,” Sungjin spoke suddenly, and the line went dead as you looked at the broken computer.

You had destroyed the only chance Brian had left at coming back to you, and it felt so final that when Sungjin arrived, he found you on the floor in your office hysterically crying.

You knew it was wrong, his arms weren’t the ones you had craved all this time. Yet when Sungjin scooped you up and held you firmly against him, you relished in the feeling. He made you feel secure, protected, and this started to relax you. Clinging onto the man, your mind slowly came down from the irrational state it was in, and eventually, your tears stopped.

“You okay?” Sungjin asked, and you shook your head, before nodding. He smiled gently, understanding what you meant and got up.

Your hand shot up to hold onto his. “It’s selfish, but can you stay?”

“I was just going to get you a drink. I think we need to have a talk, don’t you? About that long story of yours.”

Now seated out at the dining table holding an unbearably hot mug within your sensitive hands, Sungjin watched you silently. And then he cleared his throat. “That night never sat well with me.”

“The awkward dinner?” you asked, partially because you knew that was what he referred to, but mostly because you wanted Sungjin to confirm it happened. Whilst you knew Brian had existed, you craved hearing that he had from others now too.

Sungjin nodded, chuckling a little. “You lied about him being a cousin’s friend.”

“There was no bug infestation,” you replied, looking over at Sungjin. “And Brian isn’t a friend of any of my cousins. They don’t know he even exists.”

“Call it part of the job description, but I looked into Brian more. Of course, I didn’t find much in a logical sense. There was no identification or security number. He had no job listing or even existed on the electoral roll.”

You smiled sadly. “No, he wouldn’t have been on any of that.”

“What you don’t know is that I grabbed a sample of his fingerprint that night. I took a napkin he used which had his print on it from the sauce of the pizza. And I ran it through the system. It matched the one of your intruder.”

Blinking with surprise, you leaned across towards the police officer. “It did? You found a match?!”

“I remembered the messages were signed with a B, and that made me curious when you mentioned his name was Brian. And then I came to your house and found him here, which at first, I didn’t understand. But he was there all along, somehow, wasn’t he?”

“He was the intruder.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sungjin wondered, and you bit at your lip. “Because the truth made no sense, right?”

“It’s a long story,” you said out of habit and then cringed when you realised.

Sungjin nodded. “A story you wrote, right?”

“You--”

“I felt compelled to figure the mystery out. I went onto your website and read over the synopsis for Encounter. I found it intriguing the main protagonist was also called Brian Kang. Believe me, I was annoyed at first. I truly thought you had played me and wasted police hours when this man was in your house all along. But your despair was genuine back then, much as it is now. Y/N, I started to read the novel. Brian Kang is the Brian we know, right?”

You nodded, your tears slipping down your cheeks once more. “I sent him back into the story so I could finish it. And now that I have, I think he’s gone for good.”

_________________

Part 10

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[winter-soldier-vibes]

Let Me In (Bucky Barnes x depressed reader)

Let me in

Inspired by the song Let me in your room, by Halestorm

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2907

Warnings: depression, panic attack, lots of fluff

Summary: Reader shuts herself in her room because they have trust issues. she wants to talk about what she’s going through, but she doesn’t know how. After a few days of not hearing from you, Bucky decides to find out what’s going on.

----------------------

To say you had trust issues was a huge understatement. Your entire life, people who you trusted would let you down. Your friends would turn on you when you needed it most. Your parents would blame all of your mistakes on you, as well as some of their own. You had some things that you had been battling with your entire life. Depression, anxiety, that kind of thing. And when you needed love and support to get through it? People would leave. One way or another, people always left.

So you started keeping to yourself more. You stopped seeking support from the people around you. You loved them, you were just afraid to let them get too close for fear that they’d leave you out to dry just like everyone else. 

You were recruited to the Avengers about a year ago. You came without a shred of hesitation. There wasn’t anything left for you as a civilian. You had no one, and you weren’t leaving behind anything worth remembering. The team took you in and you befriended most of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. You were their fourth musketeer. 

That being said, you never let any of them get too close to you. You would hang out with them, have casual conversation, joke around with them, that kind of thing. But you never let them get any closer to you than that. You trusted them with your life, just not your secrets.

Since coming to live in Stark Tower, you’d had fewer flare ups with your depression. But it would still take you by surprise a few times throughout the months. You would deal with it by staying in your room for the most part, making as little interaction as possible. You didn’t have to hide it if there was no one to hide it from.

You always were the kind of person to keep to yourself, the guys had picked up on that pretty early on. They never were the prying type, though. They figured you had your reasons and they wanted to respect that. But when there would be days at a time where they’d only see you leave your room once or twice - well now, that was cause for concern.

Steve was always worried about everyone on the team. That was his job as your guys’ Captain. But he got especially worried when he would see you shut yourself out from everyone and everything. He wanted to help, and he tried. He would knock on your door a few times during these periods, asking if you were okay and if there was anything you needed to talk about. 

Sam had seen how people would sometimes shut people out in response to guilt or fear. Running that group after he returned from the warzone, he had seen the way it could break a person down. He would also come to try to talk to you.

Bucky was quite familiar with what you were doing, because he had done it too. He would shut people out because he didn’t want to hurt them. He didn’t think this was what you were doing, but you had the same response as he had had to something traumatic. He just wished he knew what it was about. He too would come to check on you. You would give them all the same response.

Silence. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to tell them, god how you wanted to tell them. You were just scared - no, terrified - that they would leave if they knew how you really felt. So you did what was easier. You would wait until the episode would pass and you could smile without complete agony.

It was becoming torture, really. The time in between your episodes was becoming shorter and shorter, and it was to the point where you were shutting people out more than you were a part of everyday Avenger life. When you woke up you just wanted to pull the covers over your face and forget. You could barely even manage a smirk. Everything felt pointless and you felt completely empty.

The guys took notice of this too, growing more worried as the days went on and the less of you they saw. They had known you kept to yourself, but this proved to them that there was something you were holding back, something that was eating you from the inside out. And all 3 of them knew that doing that wasn’t healthy at all. They knew from personal experience.

You had been in your room for a total of 4 days now, only getting up to use the bathroom periodically. Besides that you would alternate between sleeping and staring at the ceiling. And occasionally listening to the boys try to coax you into talking to them. You never spoke, but what they didn’t know was that you would be listening intently, opening your mouth to speak but no words coming out. You couldn’t - wouldn’t - let them in.

But today was different.

Bucky worried a little more than the other two because of his personal experience. He knew hiding something caused a lot of pain and suffering, and he couldn’t bear to think of you feeling the way he did when he shut everyone out. And today, he decided, he wasn’t leaving until you either let him in or talked to him through the door. He wasn’t going to take silence for an answer.

When he was in a rough spot, it had been people who cared enough to ask what was wrong that got him through. He wasn’t about to turn away from you when it was clear you needed someone around.

So he came to your door, closed and locked as usual, and began knocking. Three knocks, softly at first. When you gave no answer, as suspected, he knocked a little louder this time. He leaned against the door with his left arm and he rested his forehead against it. “Listen, I know you may not want to talk, but just listen to me okay? I just want to talk to you.”

This had your attention. Your ears were open. 

You heard him sigh outside your door before he continued. “Look, the three of us are really worried about you. Locking yourself in your room for days at a time isn’t healthy, regardless of the reason. I know you’ve always been a reserved person, but this…” he swallowed. “I don’t know about the others Y/n but I’m really concerned about you.”

“Now, I don’t know what’s happened to cause you to do this, and I’m not going to pretend like I do. But I wish I did, Y/n. You shut us out like this, and I hope it has nothing to do with us or something we did. But I don’t think it’s about that really.”

Even though you knew he couldn’t see you, you shook your head as tears brimmed your eyes. This had nothing to do with them at all.

He took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and blurted out. “I’m worried about you because I used to do the same thing.”

Now you really had his attention. You sat up in your bed as he continued, “When I first came here, after my Winter Soldier days, I was shaken up. I shut people out - I didn’t want to let them in. I didn’t want to hurt them. And it didn’t matter how badly I wanted to talk about what was going on - I wouldn’t let myself.”

It was as if he was reading your exact thoughts. You were a little surprised though. When you had come to the team, he seemed pretty open about everything, what he had been through and such. He didn’t just bring it up in everyday conversation, but if something was bothering him he would talk to one of you about it. 

As if he could tell what you were thinking, he said “I talk about it now if something flares up, but I never used to. I would keep it inside where no one could see it. And though I know that may not be why you do the same, that doesn’t mean that I don’t understand. And…” he paused before adding “I just want to help you Y/n. Please. I’ve let you in and you’ve seen all the dark parts of me. Let me do that for you. I’m right out here. Just...Please let me in.”

You now had tears falling down your face as you moved to put your feet on the floor. You gripped the edges of your bed, trying to convince yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you like everyone else, and also trying to convince yourself that he would. Something about what he had said this time was...different. It was more personal. 

He said he understood, right?

If he understood, he wouldn’t leave me.

But, what if he’s like all the others? What if he -

No, Y/n, this is Bucky we’re talking about. He wouldn’t do that

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of Bucky’s voice again. “Please doll. All you have to do is open the door. I’m not leaving until you open the door.”

You shuffled over to the door and unlocked it, opening it to see Bucky stumble, as he had been leaning on your door. He looked relieved and then he saw your red puffy eyes and his face settled into a sad smile. You stepped back and jerked your head towards your room, silently inviting him in. 

He stepped in and you closed and locked the door behind you. You crossed your arms and tried to keep your gaze anywhere but on Bucky who stood in front of you. “Hey,” he said. You finally looked at him and let out a breath, before looking away again and wiping your face of the tears, which were quickly replaced by fresh ones.

He stepped forward and lightly grabbed your chin and guided it to meet his eyes. When you tried to look away again he gripped it more firmly, but not as to cause pain. Looking you in the eye, he said “Please let me in.”

And that much was enough to make you break. You swayed on your feet a little before Bucky grabbed you by your elbows, concern written all over his features. You started crying harder, and he pulled you into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you protectively, one hand on the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your waist. You buried your head in his chest and tried to contain your cries but it was no use. He would whisper calming things to you, trying to help you calm down.

He didn’t know what could possibly cause you to be this upset. He knew that something was wrong, but he had never suspected that it would have been this bad. 

Out of nowhere, you pushed yourself back and ran your hands through your hair. You turned around and squeezed your eyes shut, fighting a war with your own thoughts.

He wants to help

No he doesn’t

He understands

He’s just going to leave

He wouldn’t

He couldn’t

He can’t…

Bucky watched you, unsure of what to do. Your anxiety was increasing, and your breathing became heavy. Trapped inside of your own head, you kneeled down on the floor and began pulling at your hair. Bucky kneeled down in front of you. “Y/n - Y/n. look at me, doll, I need you to look at me.” You opened your eyes when you felt Bucky grab your wrists and pull them away from your head to prevent you from hurting yourself. You looked around before looking back at him. “I need you to breathe with me, okay? Just try to match my breaths, alright? You’re safe with me,” 

You weakly nodded your head and tried to match his breathing. At first you weren’t able to, still wrapped in a full blown panic attack. But after a few attempts, you were able to draw out your breaths a little more. He kept repeating “I’m here, you’re safe. After a few minutes, your breathing had returned to normal. You kept your eyes averted, embarrassed by what had just happened. You never let anyone see you cry, never mind have a full fledged panic attack. You went to cover your face, but Bucky still kept a hold on your wrists. “Stop, don’t try to hide. You don’t have to hide from me. Please Y/n, tell me what’s going on? I swear I just want to help.” 

You look away and close your eyes, whispering “You’ll just leave…”

Bucky tilted his head and brought his eyebrows together in confusion. He was preparing himself to hear many things, but that hadn’t been what he was expecting. “What do you mean? Why would you think that?”

You shook your head and looked at the floor. “That’s what everyone always does.”

He shook his head slightly. “Is that what this is about?” You glanced at him before nodding slightly. “Y/n, I need you to look at me when I say this.” he said. You hesitantly looked at him, and he said “You don’t have to hide from me. I know the people you’ve trusted in the past have always let you down. And because of that you may not want to tell me what’s going on. But I want to help you, I want to know everything. And I promise you - I’d never leave you because of what you’re going through. And I know Sam and Steve wouldn’t either.”

Tears were falling again. You took a shaky breath before you said, “You have no idea how badly I want to say something every time one of you knocks on the door. I’ve just...I’ve spent so long pushing it down and hiding it because I’m so afraid if you really saw me, you’d run away.” You took another breath before shaking your head a little and letting out a laugh. “You see, you guys like being around me that I show you. But I know the difference between myself and my reflection. And I always wonder all the time if you knew the difference, would you still stick around.”

Bucky looked at you with sadness in his eyes. “Please, just let us in y/n. Let me show you how much I care. Nothing you could possibly say could drive me away.” He laughed a little.  “I wouldn’t leave even if you wanted me to.”

You laughed a little at that too. “Tell me what you’ve been running away from Y/n.”

You looked him in the eye to see that he was genuine. You took a few breaths to calm yourself before you spoke again. “My entire life, people have made me feel like everything was my fault. Things that would happen, mistakes I made...emotions I felt.” You swallowed before continuing, “When I was diagnosed with depression, I tried to talk about it. I really did. But people would either get weirded out or scared or something...I don’t know. Either way they always leave.” You said the last part shaking your head

“Every once and a while I go into these depressive episodes and I can’t hide it like I used to. So instead, I just...shut people out. I wanted to tell you guys, I really did.” You took another shaky breath before looking him in the eye again. “I just can’t risk losing you.”

He looked at you, face expressionless. He was searching for the right thing to say, but he couldn’t find it yet. You held your hands up and looked away, shaking your head. “Never mind, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything - God I’m such an idiot, I -”

“No no no, that’s not it at, it’s just - I’m just trying to find the right words to say.” He cleared his throat and said “That sounds so incredibly lonely to go through all on your own. I’m...sorry. But I need you to look at me.” You reluctantly met his gaze again. “Nothing’s changed, Y/n. nothing at all. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere. Especially not over this”

You nodded, tears making a steady stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

He shrugged and gave you a smile. “Nothing to apologize for.”

You smiled back at him, before swallowing and dropping your gaze. “You don’t think….Steve and Sam, would they - ?”

“No,” Bucky finished for you. “Never in a million years would they dream of it.” He wiped straw hair out of your face. “We’re right here for you, whenever you need it, doll.” He smiled at you again and you nodded, smiling as well.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“No problem. Now, do you want me to tell them, or do you want to?”

Just as you opened your mouth, you heard 3 heavy knocks on the door, followed by, “Y/n? It's Steve and Sam. We just - we’re worried about you, okay? Can you please just talk to us?”

You looked at Bucky and stifled a laugh. “How about we both tell them?”

[olivinesea]

Off Souls, pt. 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

a/n: As promised. I truly don’t know what I’m doing you guys, so wish me luck and I hope you enjoy it. I’m having fun in any case. ~3.6k

Hotch makes a mistake.

Back out in the world everything seemed sweeter. It was nearly spring and the trees had started to blossom. Both of them felt an almost frantic sense of optimism. Emily, giddy and still a little lightheaded, walked close to Hotch as they made their way back to campus. They made plans for the rest of the afternoon: they would camp out in Hotch’s common room watching Planet Earth (a compromise—Hotch vetoed Saw but Emily insisted she needed to see some sort of carnage and flat out refused to entertain any suggestions involving cartoons), they’d order pizza and Hotch promised to make “the special hot chocolate” that just involved mixing the packet with milk instead of water.

They had just gotten back onto campus and were turning to take the route to their dorm. Intensely bickering over pizza toppings, they didn’t notice the man step into their path.

“Emily?”

She stopped short, immediately recognizing the voice. Hotch stopped next to her, alert. He looked between Emily’s stunned expression and the stranger in front of them.

“Hello there,” the man’s voice was friendly. “It’s been a while.”

Emily didn’t say anything but couldn’t look away either. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. She tried to think of a way out of this, anything to get them out of this moment.

“Do I know you?” Hotch asked the man, not liking the way he had moved in so close.

He turned his cold eyes to Hotch for a moment and smirked, turning back to Emily. “What? Too embarrassed to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Emily’s mouth opened and closed, not managing to create any sound.

“We’re not—“ Hotch stopped and looked at Emily again. He could feel her shaking, her fear unmistakable. He snapped his eyes back to the other man, who looked at him indifferently.

“No? She can be a little difficult.” He smiled viciously at Emily. “Although, maybe you’re just not her type.” He casually reached forward to run a finger down the curve of her cheek. He didn’t make it halfway to her jaw before Hotch swung at him. He stumbled backward, surprised. He glanced at Emily, who hadn’t moved, and looked back at Hotch who was pale with fury.

“I wouldn’t,” the man said mildly. “She isn’t worth it, believe me.”

Hotch was on top of him in less than a breath. The second hit knocked him down entirely, his head hit the ground so hard it recoiled. The man fought back, throwing his fists wildly, catching Hotch across the cheekbone. It didn’t slow him down. Hotch was bigger and far, far angrier. All the rage he’d been holding back easily broke through any rational thought. He knelt across the other man’s chest and swung at him relentlessly. He was completely unaware of the way people started to gather around them, of the way the other man grew more and more still, no longer struggling against him. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see past the brightness of his hatred.

There was a tug on his shoulder as he pulled his arm back to slam his fist into the other man’s face again. His elbow connected with something soft. He turned to see Emily doubled over and gasping. She clutched at her abdomen, trying to catch her breath. Abruptly aware of the rest of the world, he looked around at the horrified faces of the crowd. He looked down at his hands, knuckles split and covered in blood. He gagged, close to throwing up at the smell, so sharp and familiar. He scrambled up and put a hand on Emily’s back. He bent over to try to see her face. She was breathing okay again but still squeezing tightly around her middle. He could see that she was close to tears.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

His heart broke. He spent years and years trying to change, trying to get away from this. Still, here he is again, losing control and hurting the only person he cared about. For what? He sent a nervous glance to the body on the ground, horribly still. This wouldn’t fix anything. It had been selfish. He had realized exactly who the man was and instead of thinking, he let his temper snap. And now Emily was hurt. He had hurt her. His thoughts were racing now, all the functionality he had lost to single-minded revenge returned. He knew he should stay, should make sure the other man got help and own up to his crime. But he needed to get Emily home safely first. That had been the original plan and he clung to the shredded remains of it like it might save him somehow.

“Come on,” he said as gently as he could, “let’s get back.”

She nodded and managed to stand mostly upright. She deliberately did not look at Hotch’s hands or the destruction he’d caused. Her mind was having a hard time grasping a complete thought.

She had been frightened by the way his face had hardened, all evidence of the person she knew replaced with a stony ruthlessness. She grew more worried as his strikes took on an almost rhythmic quality, like he wasn’t aware of the harm he was causing anymore. That was when she was able to break out of her immobility, to call his name and, when that hadn’t worked, try to grab hold of him, physically hold him back. That hadn’t worked well for her either. What had been a hardly noticeable dull ache in her abdomen had become sharp and painful. The first violent stab had taken her breath away. She leaned over, hoping that by applying pressure she could get the muscles to calm down, to stop trying to rip her apart from the inside out. It wasn’t really working.

At least Hotch was back with her, his sanity returned. He was hovering over her nervously, unsure how to help, mortified that he had caused this. She let him guide her through the thickening crowd. Some people were on their phones, some people were talking quietly to each other, no one tried to stop them. He might not be overcome with fury at the moment but they had all seen what he could do, how he had transformed. They might whisper that it was wrong of him to leave and embellish their stories later, claiming they had tried to confront him, but no one was going to step in Aaron Hotchner’s path right then.

They made it back to the dorm without further incident. The ride up the elevator silent and thankfully empty. When they got to their floor, he hesitated.

“Do you still want to come to my room?”

She shook her head. “I think I just need to lie down for a bit,” she said through clenched teeth. It was taking everything she had not to collapse onto the floor.

He did his best not to show his disappointment. He reminded himself that this was about her and not what he wanted. He would have done better to remember that earlier as well. He knew he would pay for that one way or another but he wanted to make sure she was okay. She was all that mattered. So he led her to her room and helped her take off her shoes. He found some water for her to take the pain medication with and made sure to refill it. He shut her curtains even though the sun would be going down soon anyway.

She laid down on her side, hugging a pillow to her chest, eyes heavy. She appreciated what he was doing, trying to take care of her. But she really wished he would leave. There was too much in her mind and she needed to turn everything off for awhile. The pain in her stomach was severe and all she could focus on.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.

“No, I’m okay.”

He nodded but wasn’t sure that she was telling the truth. Her face twisted in pain and she looked unnaturally pale.

“It’s okay Aaron, I promise. I’ll—I’ll call you later. When I wake up. I just…” her words were getting more and more stilted, her breaths shorter.

“Okay, you can call me if you need anything. I can bring you food later.” He found himself still unwilling to leave her.

She waved her hand at him and curled more tightly around the pillow.

He flipped off the light as he closed the door, followed out by a muffled “thank you.” Once she was out of sight, he understood why he had been so reluctant to leave. Without her to take care of, he had nothing to think about but the blood covering his hands and the terrible mistake he’d just made. He walked back to his room, unable to think about anything but the memory of the flashing anger compelling him to drive his fists into the other man’s face and chest, again and again.

He deserved it, a part of him reasoned as he rinsed his hands under the faucet. The warm water stung the places where his skin had split and his knuckles were swollen at the joints. He didn’t disagree with that. If Emily’s rapist was run over by a bus and then slowly eaten alive by vultures, he couldn’t see anything wrong with that. The man deserved no mercy. No, the problem was that he had lost control of himself. He had let the violence inside him get out and he hated himself for it. It proved his inability to escape the past he always tried to deny. Every day he tried to make different choices than his father but he was still wholly capable of the same kind of brutality he had been taught. No matter how much he worked to change it, inside him was something hard and dangerous.

He cleaned up his hands as best he could. The skin under his left eye was puffy and red where he had been hit. He pressed on it with his fingertips, frowning as the skin turned white under the pressure then filled back in bright red when he let go. It would turn into a dark bruise that would mark him as a fighter for weeks.

Unsure what to do with himself he tried to catch up on some classwork. He had been so focused on Emily he had let some things start to get away from him. After staring at his laptop for an hour though, he gave up. He tried texting her to see if she was up and wanting company but didn’t get a response.

He paced the hallways where he ran into another kid who lived on their floor. He thought maybe his name was Darren. Unable to avoid it, he stopped to chat. They exchanged some empty information about the day. Hotch hoped to extract himself quickly by being as bland as possible.

“Did you hear about the guy who got his ass beat out on the lawn?”

Hotch shrugged warily while the other guy stared openly at his cheek.

“They say the guy who did it just walked away like nothing happened.”

Hotch still didn’t respond, increasingly self-conscious.

“They’re looking for him. The guy he beat up is in the hospital, half dead. No doubt he’s gonna press charges once they figure out who did it.”

“That’s, uh, that’s pretty wild.” He knew this lie wasn’t going to last long but he hadn’t figured out what he was going to do yet. He needed more time. He needed to make sure Emily was okay before anything happened to him.

“Most excitement we’ve had all year.”

Hotch made a non-committal sound, trying to think of a polite way to end this conversation. “Sorry, I really have to go. My friend is sick and I need to check on her.”

Maybe-Darren waved him off, unconcerned. The guy was odd and if he wasn’t so quiet, so studious, it would be easy to believe he was the culprit. He always looked angry and rarely spoke to anyone besides the loud girl he hung around with. Maybe-Darren considered it for a brief moment as he walked to the elevators. If the Hotch kid was the other fighter, he certainly did not see any reason to get involved. You never knew when a guy like that was going to snap (or snap again) and he liked his face the way it was.

Hotch retreated to his common area. Too anxious to be in his room but too nervous to go outside and potentially run into someone who could identify him. He knew it was only a matter of time before a decision was made for him regarding the attack. There wasn’t much hope of him coming out of that in a good position. He knew he deserved whatever he had coming to him but he still felt regretful about Emily. They had only just mended their relationship and now he was probably going to have to leave her on her own again. He hoped she would forgive him.

Thinking about her, he checked his phone again but no messages had come through. He sighed, frustrated at his ineffectualness. There had to be something better he could be doing. Suddenly he remembered the heating pad he had stored under his sweaters. He’d been attached to that thing growing up; the only comfort he could ever count on. Since coming to school he had felt a little embarrassed pulling it out in front of the other guys in his dorm. So it had lived in his drawer untouched for awhile. He was sure it would be useful to Emily, even if she didn’t want him there he could do this for her. He pulled it out and headed towards her end of the building.

The floor was quiet, most people out at dinner or still studying. When he got to her dorm, he found the door ajar and the lights on. He knocked lightly before pushing it open only to be faced with an empty bed. He turned slowly to look around the girls’ common area, as if she might be hiding behind some piece of furniture. He pulled out his phone and tried to call her but he could hear her phone buzzing amidst the blankets on her bed. He dug around and found it, seeing that all of his messages that afternoon had been left unopened. Concerned now, he dropped phone and heating pad on the unmade bed and left the room to look for her.

As he passed the bathroom he heard the shower running. He wavered for a moment— prominent among the strict rules he followed was one prohibiting him from entering the women’s restroom. His worry outweighed his propriety and he pushed the door open slightly.

“Emily?” he called. “You in there?”

There was no response besides the sound of running water and steam escaping through the opened door.

“I’m gonna come in there for a second. Just tell me if you want me to stay out.”

Still no response. He felt his heart picking up speed, dire scenarios starting to flash through his mind.

The curtain was pulled across the last shower stall, water pooling slightly beneath it.

“Emily?” he called again. He heard a sniffle. “Hey, are you okay?”

After a long pause he finally got a response.

“I’m fine.”

He could hear from the shake in her voice she was anything but fine.

“I’m worried about you, Em.” He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. “Please, let me help. What can I do?”

This was met with more silence.

He had just opened his mouth to try to convince her to come out when thin fingers appeared near the bottom of the curtain. They pulled it open slightly and he could see her, thankfully still clothed in shorts and a tank top, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm wrapped tightly around them. Her hair hung around her face in dripping chunks and her eyes were tired.

“Sit with me?”

He looked at her doubtfully. “How about you get out first?” he countered. “I brought—“

“Please? I just want to stay here a little longer.”

He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up. He thought about all the reasons he did not want to sit in a shower in a women’s restroom. But he couldn’t say no. He sighed as he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head.

“I’m not getting naked.”

“What a shame,” she said dryly.

He blushed as he undid his pants. He still couldn’t figure out how she was so nonchalant about undressing. But he powered through the discomfort and took a deep breath before stepping into the shower.

She had edged over to make room for him. He slid down the wall, folding his long legs in to fit the space. Once the initial distaste of being unexpectedly wet wore off, he could see how this could be soothing. She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He tilted his head back so water wouldn’t drip into his eyes and mouth. They sat like that quietly for several minutes.

“You scared me,” she admitted, tracing his injured hand with her finger.

“I know. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“I wish I could have done it myself.”

He paused, unsure how to respond. “It was wrong of me.”

“He deserved it. I was thinking about how happy I would be if he died.” Then, “Do you think that makes me a bad person?”

“No. Thinking things doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“But you think you’re a bad person.” Her statement, so simple, drove right into his heart and made his breath catch.

“Well, I’ve done bad things, so, that’s…that’s how that works.” She tucked her head against his shoulder. “Is it bad if you were protecting someone else?”

“It was more than that,” he said, refusing to let himself off the hook.

She sighed. “I don’t think you’re bad. I think you made a mistake. Mistakes don’t make you a bad person either.”

He didn’t say anything to this and they sat in silence again. The water ran down their bare legs and collected around their feet. He could feel the temperature starting to cool and goosebumps began to form on his arms.

“Can we get out now?”

She ignored him for a moment, staring at her toes, lost in thought. He shifted and she looked over at him. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek before rolling up to her feet and turning off the water. He was a little dazed by the action and was slower to stand. She briskly opened the curtain and stepped out of the shower, unfazed by the wet clothes clinging to her. She stripped before toweling off and, deeply embarrassed, he stared hard at the floor while he shivered.

“Here,” was all the warning she gave before launching the towel at him. He barely caught it before it fell on the wet ground. His eyes went wide when he realized she had nothing on now and was relieved when she walked out of the bathroom. He dried off as best he could and got dressed before following her to her room. When he got there she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, holding up the heating pad gingerly.

“It’s a heating pad,” he sounded defensive.

“I know what it is. Why do you have one?”

He shrugged. “It comes in handy.”

“Hmm. Ok.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I can take it back to my room.”

“No, no. It’s mine now. You brought it to me.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They smiled at each other and he thought about how fucking lucky he was.

“Want to watch something?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” He regretted it immediately.

She grinned. “Whatever I want?”

“Please don’t pick something that’s going to give me nightmares,” he groaned.

She looked wicked as she patted the bed next to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

He climbed into the narrow bed as she pulled out her laptop and started discussing possibilities. He didn’t really listen, he wasn’t planning on paying attention anyway. The shower was more relaxing that he could have hoped and he found himself thoroughly exhausted by the day. He hummed in agreement whenever it seemed like she was waiting for input and finally she pulled something up. He was asleep before they made it ten minutes into the movie.

He didn’t wake up until much later. She’d fallen asleep too, the closed laptop had slid down between her and the wall. He could feel the warmth from the heating pad wrapped around her middle and smiled. He found his phone to check the time and saw it was already 5:30 am. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept for that long. He yawned as he slid out of the bed, careful not to wake Emily. He carried his shoes in his hand as he walked down the hall back to his room. He was startled to find several people in uniform occupying his common room. They all turned to look at him when he walked in.

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes?” Any lingering sleepiness vanished and part of him was tempted to turn and run. Run back to the warmth he had just left, hide beneath that soft sea of blankets indefinitely.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

~Part 5~

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Allotrope pt. 4

Genre: Idolverse Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (Suho) x f!reader Warnings: Angst. Internal struggles with Mental Health problems. Relationship struggles. Smut. Edging. Overstimulation (m!rec.), oral (m!rec.), no protection. explicit, soft sex. Words: 12.2k prev. / next.

You’ve always been an animal lover. Today, however, for the third day in a row, you’re cursing the existence of birds in particular as you roll over in bed. Lately, the window beside your bed has become a stage for their sing song voices. It’s been just enough to wake you from precious slumber the moment the sun just begins to creep into the sky.

You dread having to open your eyes, huffing in annoyance as you reach for your phone and cradle it to your chest for a moment. You felt the gentle vibration of a text message notification when you pulled it from the bedside table. Cracking one eye open, you lift it above your head and rest your thumb against the unlock.

Your background is simple but makes your heart flutter nonetheless. A pastel blue color with a single symbol of a tribal water droplet in white. His symbol, your idol. Your Water King.

Swinging your feet from under the comfort of your covers, you rise begrudgingly. Making your way to the bathroom, you remember today is… Wednesday. Although you don’t have work today, you look around your apartment and realize you’ve got a day of cleaning ahead of you.

For the last two and a half weeks since Junmyeon gave you his number, you’ve neglected to tidy up more than necessary. Instead, you’ve been too attached to your phone, talking, texting or video chatting with him. Constantly sending memes and jokes and book recommendations. It’s been wonderful, really.

Shoving your toothbrush in your mouth, you begin your day. While you brush, you check your messages. Two from him, one from Soohyun.

Junmyeon’s first text is longer, answering your question about seeing each other soon, and letting you know he will be coming back from overseas tomorrow (today) after an interview that will wrap up their schedule in North America. His second text promises that he can’t wait to see you when he returns, and wishes for you to sleep well with a kiss emoji.

It sets a smile on your face too broad to contain the foam of your toothpaste. You finish up and wash your face, making your way to the kitchen.

Waiting for your coffee to finish brewing a whole pot, you open Soohyun’s message. He’s asking if you want to visit the new restaurant in town for dinner. His offer assures you he has a connection who could get you in without the waitlist, but he needs to know asap. Word around town is their menu in its entirety is well worth the required reservation days in advance.

Automatically, you’re excited. Your mood lifts a bit at the idea of deliciously rumored food, and you can’t wait to confirm. Sending him a load of excited emojis and the word ‘yes’ in all caps, you go about your day with a happy bounce.

It starts off well, with a playlist of piano covers of EXO albums carrying through the apartment. The curtains are spread wide open to allow the bright sun in while you tidy up. With every chore that you complete, you relax that much more. Laundry folded, papers you no longer need shredded, trash out, all of it. You’ve even got a candle lit in every room and you’re on your third cup of coffee by noon.

At this hour, an anxiousness begins to creep in. You know on the other side of the world, where there’s a thirteen hour difference, Junmyeon is finishing his schedule for the day and is probably just getting back to his hotel room. Which means he’ll be texting you.

It makes you check your phone constantly, even though you’ve heard nothing from the device stuffed into the pocket of your tattered sweats- you have to check. It’s manic.

You’re not sure what to expect. Although the last week of nonstop contacting one another has been wonderful, it’s also been… difficult.

Sure, there have been way too many good things. Your favorite in particular is whenever you get to watch an episode of his latest drama, Rich Man Poor Woman. You cackle in delight every time he’s making a ridiculous face or you pause the feed at the perfect moment to catch a silly expression. You’ve made a handful of memes with the images, sharing every single one with him to tease him.

He called you once immediately after you sent one to complain loudly through the speaker of your phone, until your laughter made him chuckle. Most of them he would pout at but then find just as hysterical as you would- claiming your tearful laughter contagious. He knew you thought he was a wonderful actor and these would be safe from ever being released to the masses of the internet.

Other times there were quiet moments where he would read to you over the phone or video chat as you fell asleep. Or vice versa. Quietly whispered conversations from under your covers with him until one of you was too tired to continue. Sometimes it was just getting to know one another better over endless games of ‘this or that’, asking a plethora of random questions and discussing the answers of why either of you chose one versus the other. You both have quite the affinity for books it seems.

Two or three times over the last week there’s also been heated moments. Snapshots of abs, not revealing his face as the top of the picture showed him biting his lip only. Teasing innuendos or emojis from both parties, sometimes ending in laughs and sometimes more.

You’d both been afraid to do more yet- fearful of it somehow getting hacked. Only one phone call where you’d been too desperate, you had panted into your phones at each other about how much you wish the other were there. During such, you’d admitted how much the audio turned you on. You could hear the slick sounds of every stroke he took, and in turn he could hear the gentle buzzing of your vibrator as you brought yourselves to completion. His quiet moans and huffs of breath in your ear haunt you still. Strange how intimate a moment could be with an entire ocean separating you.

Occasionally, conversation turns to the heavier things that you both need to discuss. About your relationship, about what you are and where you are and where you’re going. Two days ago, the conversation had turned from a conversation to an argument. You’d both raised your voices, but not at each other. Out of frustration.

Often the questions ran along the lines of what are you? Or are you in an exclusive relationship? You’d both easily admitted you would like that, but then the what ifs about it. The insecurities and uncertainty. The pressure to be all that an exclusive relationship typically entails.

You’re under the impression Junmyeon struggles with it harder than you do, naturally. He’s an idol. He already under an intense amount of pressure. In your mind, he doesn’t need the additional pressure of having to be there for someone when he can’t be all the time. Can he commit to you like that? Normally you spin it much the same- you’re about to start your last year of college. Are you going to have time for him, too? What happens if the few times he’s available by chance, you’re not? How upsetting and frustrating that would be. Are you both mentally and emotionally strong enough… mature enough to understand that if you become an actual item there is a chance you might go months between seeing each other? What if the fans find out? What if that becomes not enough and one of you calls it quits because it’s driving you mad? What if something like that happened and if affected his performance as an idol? What if he couldn’t keep up the facade- a second is all it takes for someone to say something about his composure.

So, do you stay as you are? The hooking up when it works out for your schedules by random chance? You know that won’t work either because you hate it. You know he hates it, too. You like belonging to one another too much. You like being selfish.

Both of you struggle with all of it. It’s terrifying when you don’t know the answers to the what if questions. How can you commit without knowing how frustrating it’s going to be? Becoming someone’s partner means disappointment at missed holidays and birthdays, anniversaries. Lack of intimacy, which you both clearly need a healthy amount of at this point.

The most frustrating of all is that neither of you have an answer for those kinds of questions. It’s a vicious cycle.

You pull yourself from your thoughts with a sigh. So much for your unstoppable, fantastic day. You feel gross, having done all of your house chores and needing a shower. Even looking around your clean apartment wasn’t relaxing you how it should be.

You’re hopeful a shower might lift your spirit enough to save the day, but the spray and suds in your hair aren’t doing much good. Just as you step out, you decide to drain your hot water supply completely and run a bath to lounge in.

While it fills the tub, you brush your hair and pull it onto your head and refill your coffee cup, even going as far as to grab a bath bomb from your pampering supply for good measure.

For a few moments you watch as it fizzes and swirls the lavender, gold and cream colors around the steaming water. Goddess, the name of the bomb, and one of your favorites.

You’re too impatient for it to completely dissolve- balancing your coffee mug on the side of the tub as you get comfortable in the depths of vanilla scented water.

Intentionally- you left your phone on the kitchen counter. You want to relax. Instead of letting yourself hyper-fix on it, you focus on your coffee as it slips down your throat. You’re being warmed inside and out from the coffee and the water, slowly sapping the tension from your bones.

While you drink, you busy yourself deliberating about what you might want to wear tonight.

By the time you’re frowning at the coffee-stained bottom of your mug and your skin is prickling from the tepid bathwater, nothing has sufficed to distract your thoughts.

You feel lousy and terrible and kind of don’t even want to go to dinner because you know your shitty mood will ruin the evening. Soohyun knows your moods shift and fluctuate with the wind, and he wouldn’t judge you for cancelling, but you feel disappointed about it. How burdensome.

Pulling the plug on the drain, you pull your knees up to your chest and sit in the tub, watching the space between the water’s surface and the ring of purple foam grow wider slowly. The gurgling sound of the drain swallowing the last liter stirs you from your blank thoughts.

You stand and give the tub a quick rinse- then pat yourself dry with a fresh towel and grab your empty mug. There’s an uncomfortable feeling tugging at your chest the closer you draw to the kitchen, and your phone. Like you can’t reach it fast enough in hopes the unease will go away if you look at it.

Setting your mug down in the sink and letting some water run into the bottom, you side eye your phone. Sitting there right where you left it, incriminating and imposing beside the coffee pot. There’s a little text bubble icon on your lockscreen when you tap the screen and illuminate it, staring back at you. You don’t have to unlock it to know who it’s from. Swiping it from the counter in all of your stark naked glory, you carry it back to your bedroom and toss it onto your bedspread without checking it.

At least you can wear your favorite lounge clothes and curl up on your bed while you feel awful. After you dress, just to procrastinate, you even sit down at your vanity to put on some extra moisturizer and toner and use a spa roller.

Eventually, the feeling in your chest scalds to an unbearable degree. You can’t ignore it any longer, throwing yourself onto your bed like a petulant child.

Sure enough, the message is from Junmyeon. Luckily, it’s simple. A sufficient 'hello beautiful’ with a smiley face.

You can hear his voice saying it in your head, and it makes the corner of your lips tick upward just slightly. It makes you feel a little better. Junmyeon makes you feel a little better. He is good for you, and you know it…

But what about the rest of it? Your personal problems when your moods shift like the sands and your mental health status. The things that make you worry and fear and you want to keep from him for as long as possible so they won’t ruin whatever this is that you have with him.

He doesn’t deserve anything except the very best. What if he gets too close and you snap and then he goes running? Of course you don’t want that, it would only put you in a worse place. A place you’re doing your best to forget and move on from.

A slight pain in your jaw tears you from the cloud of your thoughts, realizing you were clenching it too tightly again. With practiced ease you release the tension, letting your mouth hang open and rotating the hinge. Idly, you check the time on your phone. Nearly one-thirty.

Staring at the device, you watch as the illumination dims. Just before it goes black completely, it lights up with a goofy picture of you and Soohyun. He’s calling you, and you fidget, hesitating to answer it.

The moment you decide to pick it up, you’ve already missed it.

Instead, you curl in on yourself and try to focus. You try to talk yourself into going to dinner still, but ultimately know your resolve is weak.

Before you move, forty minutes has gone by and there’s a knocking at your door.

The sound confuses you, and you swiftly move from your bed to check it. An oddly shaped Soohyun is staring back into the peephole, his nose looking far larger than the rest of his face, and it makes you laugh.

He is loud from the moment you unlock the deadbolt, swinging into your apartment in his work clothes. Only his apron is missing as he waltzes in and swings you up in a hug.

Immediately, you protest, “Get off of me, I’m clean!”

He grins at you, setting your feet gently back on the wood of your kitchen floor. “Good afternoon to you too, and thanks for picking up my call?” he chides.

It earns him a slap to the arm, but as usual nothing can bring down his mood and he only laughs at his own punishment.

While he settles, you turn away and gesture to the now cold coffee pot. He loves cold coffee anyway, excitedly nodding his head when you gesture to the machine in offering.

Soohyun is at home in your apartment, much the same as you are in his. You watch him silently as he flits about your kitchen, grabbing his favorite glass, adding ice and draining the last of the coffee from the pot.

Graciously, he sets the decanter in the sink and fills it with water before he joins you on the couch.

“What’s up?” you ask sheepishly. His awareness of you makes you anxious suddenly. It’s been like that for a long time, even with medication.

Your knees join your chest, not bothering to look up from the floor or hide your mood from him.

Soohyun sips the coffee, “I wanted to see if you wanted to come hang out back at my place before we go to dinner… if you were still interested.”

His voice and tone give nothing away. Perhaps there isn’t anything to give at all, because you know he is not judging you for anything. Although he doesn’t have the same struggles you do, he respects you enough and understands that you sometimes have trouble. He doesn’t love you any less because of it.

“I’m so-”

“Don’t say it.” he clips before you can finish the word.

Your mouth snaps shut and you turn, foolish. “Okay.” you say instead after a moment.

“Do you want me to leave? If it’s not a good time that’s fine, too.” he offers instead, posture relaxed.

You shake your head, “No, you’re alright. I don’t mind the company, as long as you don’t mind my mood.”

Soohyun takes a large mouthful in pause before asking, “I don’t mind at all. Did you want to talk about something?”

You’re about to reply when your phone rings from where you left it on the kitchen counter again to answer the door, and you’re up off the couch to answer it. It’s Junmyeon.

“Hello?”

“Hello beautiful.” His voice is tired and stressed as it meets your ear from the receiver. You walk back to the couch with it pressed to your skull. He must be so exhausted, but his care and affection for you makes you warm.

“Are you having a good day?” he asks, and you smile. Soohyun is listening to you intently, pretending to be vastly more interested in his own phone than your conversation.

You sigh, “It’s just been a normal day. How are you, you sound stressed…”

You strain to hear Junmyeon’s dark chuckle over the phone. It’s hard to concentrate on his voice with the background noise; a movie playing perhaps?

“Junmyeon?”

“I don’t know. They got what they got.” he answers cryptically.

You frown, “What does that mean? Are you alright?”

He sighs, “I’ll be okay. I just wanted to hear your voice before I try to go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

You can hear the laugh again. A laugh you’re coming to understand means the opposite of what a laugh usually means. An uninspired one.

“I have to be sure.”

You don’t press him on the issue, “Okay. Are you going to sleep now?”

He hums, “Yeah. We just reached cruising altitude.”

“That’s good. I hope you sleep well. I’ll see you when you get back, okay? I’m off tomorrow night.”

“Mmm.” your lover replies.

You think he’s going to say goodbye, but he chooses a different direction, “I want to come over.”

A smile stirs upon your lips, he sounds so sleepy.

“Junmyeon, I don’t know if that’s a great idea. What about the media?”

“I don’t care, I just want to see you…I will be careful.” he murmurs, voice sulky at your answer.

You laugh gently, “I want to see you, too. We’ll see. For now, please rest well. Get sleep.”

He hums again, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon. Sleep now.”

Removing the phone from your ear, you end the call and look at Soohyun. He’s staring straight at you with a grin plastered onto his face.

You hold a single finger up to your lips, prompting him to grunt and sip at his drink, pointedly looking away. Just as you think is going to abide by your rule- he speaks.

“I see things are still about the same in that lane.”

Huffing a sigh, you dramatically wipe your hands down your face. You groan, “It’s complicated.”

Soohyun huffs this time, surprising you, “Do you know that you just keep saying it’s complicated every time someone questions you?”

Brows furrowing, you pull your lip between your teeth, “Well, it is.”

“Do you like it being complicated? Seems to me it’s pretty frustrating and stressful on both of you.” he laughs gently and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Of course not. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Soohyun sets his now empty glass on the shiny wood of your freshly cleaned coffee table before turning to face you completely. “Sure you do.”

Now you’re just confused, “If I knew how to fix it, I would.”

He barks a laugh that only sounds a little patronizing, “That’s the thing. You do know how to fix it. You just don’t want to because you’re afraid.”

You know Soohyun isn’t trying to be arrogant or mean, but his words still sting.

With your silence, he continues, “You’re afraid of the unknown, Y/N. You always have been. You’re always thinking a dozen steps ahead for your future and the things that are unknown and you have zero control over are not welcome in that equation. It drives you crazy not knowing what is going to happen with your relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship.” you quip sharply.

“But you want to be!” Soohyun smiles wide, voice rising just a bit with his exasperation. His hand sweeps out over the coffee table as he explains. “Don’t even try to tell me you don’t want that. I know you, and I’m hearing enough from Sehun that 'Myeon wants that, too.”

You roll your eyes defensively, trying to change the subject, “You and Sehun have gotten close.”

He smirks at you and tilts his head, and his gaze is unsettling to your nerves. “Besides, it takes both of us. I’m not the only one struggling with this.” you say just to fill the unnerving silence with word vomit.

“I know.” he nods slowly.

“So what if I decide I want to try it? What do I do if he doesn’t?” you ask with a pout. It calls attention to the lump in your throat when you say it- you hadn’t realized it was forming.

Soohyun looks at you fondly, “Have you been listening to anything that man has said over the last few weeks, my dear?”

Serving him a look that says he’s about to regret talking to you like a child, you wait.

Proud of himself for getting a rise out of you, he answers, “I’m sure if you said you wanted that, he would be all in. From what I understand, you’re the only one who is letting the 'what if’ unknowns stop you.”

“But I-” you try.

“But nothing!” Soohyun comments loudly, holding up a hand, “Are you really going to let the unknown possibilities stop you from enjoying what’s right in front of you? I’ve seen enough and heard enough to know there’s a wonderful person standing in front of you. Someone who, by the way, could have anyone they wanted, and is choosing you and all of your crazy talk of the unknown bullshit.”

Stunned, you blink at him.

“I’m sorry.” Soohyun says, voice lowering, “It’s very frustrating for the people that love the both of you, too. It’s hard to watch your self torment stop you.” When you don’t respond right away, he adds, “It’s frustrating for Sehun and the others, too.”

“Won’t I regret it though if we don’t work out?” you ask him, face serious.

Soohyun coos at you, “I don’t know. You don’t know, and he surely doesn’t know, and you will never know.” You consider his words for a moment, “By the way- you’re never going to find out if you don’t do it, either. Do you want to be stuck wondering if there would have been regret if you never even take the leap to find out? You’re so set on getting answers that you stop yourself from even trying to answer the question, skipping it completely.”

Your eyes widen, and he makes perfect sense. He’s right- if you don’t try, you’ll never know. It’s a revelation, making you physically bring your hands to your mouth as you stare at him with your doe eyes.

He smiles at you, knowing he got through.

“Now that you understand, let me ask you something, you goof.” he snickers.

It earns him a playful smack on the leg.

“Have you enjoyed the last few weeks of talking to him, even though he hasn’t physically been here? Even if you’re not actively in conversation- do you still look forward to his texts and communication?”

You don’t need to answer him with words as the smile softens your tense features.

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.” you murmur immediately, gaze resolute as it flicks up to meet the depths of Soohyun’s dark eyes.

“Okay. Then what happens if you let the unknown eat at you and let him go? You’ll still want to be with him, but you might have to see him with someone else someday. Surely then you’ll be wondering and regretting and hurt because you never found the answer.”

He pauses, but holds up a hand that he isn’t done. “Now, as your best friend, I can’t just sit here and be okay with that. It’s my job to talk some sense into you, Y/N. I am going to tell you right now, from my perspective, you have never been this invested in another person like this. Even your last real boyfriend didn’t have this big of an affect on you over, what was it… a year? Fourteen months?”

He looks at you pointedly, driving home his point. “From another outsider’s perspective, Sehun says much of the same.”

You cut in, “Oh my god, what are we to you two, a soap opera? Don’t you have anything better to talk about than someone else’s love life?”

He chuckles, pulling a laugh from you in return and resuming his monologue, “Shut up, we love to talk about you two. As I was saying, he can assure you that Junmyeon has never met someone like this, either. They’ve been best friends for long enough that his word has credibility.”

You’re softly smiling at him by the time he finishes, “He’s not the type of guy to be really into all of that.”

Soohyun claps his hands, “See, that’s my point. If you know he’s not the type to be creeping into people’s DMs and sleeping around a lot, why are you having such a hard time understanding how much you affect him, too?”

“I see it.”

“Then why are you hesitating and driving you both insane?”

You frown, picking at your fingernails, “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Soohyun’s posture freezes, his lips dropping to match your own expression. “Why do you think you’d hurt him?” he asks, but you feel like he knows the answer.

You stare at him pointedly before your gaze wanders to the kitchen and lands on the prescription bottle on the counter.

“Does he know?” Soohyun asks calmly.

Shaking your head, you reply, projecting your voice around the ball in your throat, “Why would I tell him?”

Your best friend smiles softly at you, quietly taking your hand that is closest to him and holding it so you’ll stop picking your nails, “It’s not my business how you handle that, but it might be worth considering to tell him about if you want a relationship with him. It might make it easier for him to understand you sometimes.”

You nod, not really sure what to say. Instead, “I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on him, either. He’s already under so much stress.”

Soohyun releases one breath quickly through his nose, “I think you are what relieves his stress- not just in that way, either!” he clarifies, “I think it might stress him out less to know and I imagine he would be understanding, but that’s just my opinion.”

“It’s still scary. When someone knows you that personally.”

He whispers, patting your hand, “It’s a sign of weakness to you. Y/N, I know I’m one of the only people who knows, but I think getting help and taking medication takes a lot of strength and not at all a weakness. Hell, it takes a lot of courage to admit it to yourself, right?”

Nodding, you lean into him, “Yeah.”

“Let me ask you one more time, do you want to be with him? Totally? Like exclusively?” he asks into your hair, pulling his arm around you.

You don’t care anymore that he smells like work and you’re clean. This time, you can’t get your voice through the weight of your throat, so you nod into his frame, rubbing your face against his shirt.

“Then do it, okay?” he presses his lips against the side of your head.

You nod again, just leaning into his warmth and letting the silence settle over you.

Eventually, Soohyun gently removes you, “Are you still going to be boujee and get some damn good food with me?”

His question makes you laugh. You know this man well enough to already assume he would ask you this once the conversation lulled. The feeling in your chest isn’t as heavy as it was before, and you realize that sulking around your apartment all afternoon isn’t going to do anything for your well being.

Instead, you allow Soohyun to talk you into wearing a dress that you hate but has always brought you good luck. He has enough time to shower in your bathroom and rummage through your closet for a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of his that you swear you never stole while you do your makeup.

He buys you an iced americano from the cafe across the street from your apartment building before you’re comfortably weaving through the throngs of people on the subway system this afternoon.

It takes seven minutes to reach his apartment. Even though you hate it because of how congested the area gets, you admit there is a convenience for Soohyun to live in an apartment mere steps away from one of the busiest subway terminals in the city. Especially for someone who is perpetually pushing the clock to be on time.

The moment the door is unlocked, Mingho is standing in the entryway, meowing in greeting and running forward to twist herself back and forth between Soohyun’s legs with affection. Her spotted fur shines in the afternoon light cutting across the room from the living room window, and her purring grows in volume when he scoops her up to cuddle as he walks to his room.

Just as at home here as you are in your own apartment, you peek toward her food bowl and notice it’s empty. You look down the hallway from the kitchen to see her jump off of his bed just as you open the pantry and shake her food container.

“Thanks!” Soohyun calls to you from his room, already flinging his hoodie off to find an appropriate outfit for the evening.

Mingho winds herself between your legs as you place a scoop of food into her bowl. She immediately begins to eat, raising her rear into the air as you scratch gently down her back.

______________________________________

You wake with a groan. You remember walking into your apartment at midnight and falling into bed shortly after. While you had expected to be home after dark last night, you had hoped you would at least be home with enough time to get a solid eight hours of sleep before your brunch shift this morning. No such luck.

Rather, you’re ensuring you’re showered and decent and quickly standing in an impossibly crowded subway car so you can get to work on time.

You hadn’t bothered with breakfast this morning and are barely sipping on your coffee, still too full from the amount of food you had consumed with Soohyun and his friend Beomsuk last night. His friend Beomsuk… who was very tall and very handsome and very much interested in you.

On the ride home, Soohyun swore up and down he had no idea, and you were sure he was telling the truth. You had only kindly declined his invitation to bring only you back to the restaurant as a date under the guise of your busy schedule. You’re extremely cautious now, too afraid to confirm that you have someone special to you in the event someone would try to find out who that special person might be.

Shaking your head, you think back to how it might have swayed you differently before you met Junmyeon. Perhaps you would have let him whisk you off into the night or played with him. Now, nobody else on the face of the planet even compares.

The rest of the morning drones on slowly, just like that. The money is good, filtered through the hands of a crowd of business people having meetings over brunch and lunch. It’s still a little slow for your usual pace, but you don’t mind when you walk out into the afternoon sun with a wad of cash on par with your average for an early day shift.

Your stomach feels empty now, having worked off majority of the food baby. The cafe across the street from your building suffices enough, stepping into the shade and removing your sunglasses. Their bagels have always been delicious and fresh. You order one with your favorite flavor of cream cheese spread.

Walking up to your apartment door, you let the last half of the bread hang out of your mouth so you can use your hands to unlock your door. When the door clicks shut behind you, a tension you didn’t know you’d been carrying leaves your shoulders.

You kick off your shoes and use one foot to slide them neatly into place on the mat before tossing your trash into the bin in the kitchen. Even though you just showered, you smell a bit like food and old people’s cologne from walking through clouds of it over and over again at the restaurant.

While you’re in the shower, your phone rings. Obviously, you can’t answer it, but you hasten your routine. While you wrap your towel around yourself and wipe a hand over the fogged mirror, you check it. It was Junmyeon.

You swipe to call him back right away, pressing your thumb into the speaker button and setting it on your vanity as you dry yourself and find some comfortable clothes to wear. You don’t plan on going anywhere for the rest of the day.

“Y/N?” he says after the first ring. His voice sounds painful and sad.

“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately, staring a frown into the device.

There’s only the sound of him catching his breath for a moment, then, “I don’t know. I’m just really stressed out.”

“Where are you?” you ask. He said he was stressed when you talked to him yesterday, too.

“Out.” he murmurs.

You sigh, “Where? Do you want to come over here?” You wait for an answer while you pull on your panties and pull up the straps of your bra.

He sucks in a breath from the other end of the line, breathing hard. It sounds like he’s outside. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Instantly you pick up your phone, swiping the call to the edge of the screen so you can access your display. You type in your address into the message box and send it to him.

“I want to see you, even when you’re stressed out.” you say quietly, stuffing your head and arms through the wide holes of a thin camisole. Your legs follow suit in a pair of distressed denim shorts that hug your hips just right.

The notion that you care enough to want to fix it for him dawns on you. The realization that you want to do anything to make him smile and not be stressed and worried. You want to give him strength and support. Your heart is thunderous in your chest suddenly and your voice seems gone.

After the moment of panic passes and you calm enough to speak, you take a deep breath.

You ask when he says nothing, “Junmyeon?” You swallow and take the leap.

“Yeah?” he replies softly.

“How can I be a good girlfriend to you if you won’t let me try to help you when you’re not feeling your best?” The questions puts a halt to your breath, picking at your nails and furrowing your brow as you wait anxiously.

There’s silence on the other end of the line. Not even the sound of his breathing as you imagine he may have pulled his phone away from his ear to look at it suspiciously.

“How am I supposed to help you feel better and support you when you won’t let me?” you ask again, nervous by his lack of response.

He makes a sound like an unbelievable chuckle into the receiver, “…Does that mean what I think it means?”

You smile at the sound of his voice. It’s still small and shallow, but there’s not as much sadness to his tone.

“That depends on what you think it means.”

Junmyeon hums, “You’re willing to give us a real shot?”

“Do you want to?” you ask with a hint of apprehension in your throat.

“Yes.” he whispers immediately. The word sends such a sense of relief washing through your body you’re vaguely aware you have to blink several times to disperse the moisture pooling at the rims of your eyes.

“Then I guess that makes us together, doesn’t it?” you comment breathily, pulling your wet hair into a loose bun on top of your head.

You can hear him smile through the phone, swallowing a sound you can’t place, “What changed your mind?”

You sigh, picking up your phone and carrying it to the kitchen with you, “Did you know our best friends are wholly invested in our relationship and talk about us a lot?”

Junmyeon laughs loudly on his end, “I assumed as much. Sehun has been complaining a lot about us. In a good way though, like he really wants us together.”

“Hm…” you agree, “Same on my end.” There’s a sound from the other side of your front door, just down the hall.

“Hey Y/N?” he asks. His voice drops again, like he is tired.

A sound that tells him you’re still listening lulls through the phone. Waiting for his question, you pour yourself a glass of water and stare at the bottle of pills on the counter beside the coffee pot. The pills you’ll have to tell him about if you’re really trying to give this your all. It terrifies you.

“Can you open the door?” he asks unexpectedly.

Your head whips to the door not five feet from you- the sound was him? You don’t bother replying to him verbally, instead crossing the space easily to fling the door open.

“How did you get here so fast?” you gawk at him, checking the hallway for your neighbors before you pull him inside. There’s a dark hat and a pair of oversized black sunglasses hiding his face. He looks casual otherwise, wearing a branded baby blue hoodie, black athletic pants and a pair of black slides. In the middle of Summer.

He melts into you instantly, “Don’t kill Soohyun, okay?”

You know where he’s going with the remark, but you raise one brow at him expectantly.

“A week ago he may have told me the name of your apartment building just in case there was an emergency. He didn’t tell me what number though.” he says sheepishly.

“I see.” you say, not caring about it anymore. Junmyeon was here now, like you wanted him to be. He puts his shoes beside yours at the door and follows you into the kitchen, “Would you like something to drink?”

He removes his hat and sunglasses, shaking his hair free, “No, thank you. I just wanted to see you.” You take a mild sip and place your glass of water back on the counter.

Smiling, you don’t give in to him just yet. “Okay. I’m here, so now do you want to tell me what’s been bothering you?” you try, taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

He looks away from you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and rolling one string of his hood between his fingers idly, “The interview didn’t go well.” he finally whispers after a moment.

You frown, “What happened?” You lean toward him and Junmyeon reaches for you, pulling you to tuck against his side. He sighs and relaxes a little, pressing his cheek against the damp coolness of your hair.

You wait for him to tell you, letting your fingers play with the opposite string of his hoodie and pulling your feet up on the couch.

“Being an idol is one thing. Being in a relationship is another…it,” he pauses, trying to find the proper words to explain. Eventually, he gives a frustrated sigh, “You have to cater to the fans as an idol. I love our EXO-Ls, don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t make me feel good to give them false hope, either.”

You remain silent, letting him get out his words before you comment.

“I can’t easily say fanservice comments anymore about marrying them or about loving them most in the universe. It feels like a really shitty and shallow thing to do, and it bothers me more than I thought it would.” he reveals.

“I understand.” you answer carefully.

He pulls you tighter, wrapping both arms around you, nearly tugging you into his lap, “But the interviewer asked us questions along those lines and I had a really hard time playing to it. I reacted poorly and we had to do a second take and I had to act like it was fine. It was embarrassing and our manager made the interviewer sign a nondisclosure about the incident.”

The explanation has your stomach dropping through the floor. You push up from his body and meet his eyes. He’s clearly upset but you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do in this situation.

“I had to have a meeting with SM about it. About you, and me.” you want to cry. There’s no way after all of the internal struggle to come to terms with wanting and trying to have a half way normal relationship, it’s going to be taken from you. Obviously he would have to choose being an idol. It wouldn’t even be a competition for you.

“Oh.” you croak, blinking.

He pulls you back forcefully, “I told them I’d be fine. I didn’t know I would react that way… it’s my first time even trying to have some semblance of normal.”

You’re worried but his sentiment makes your smile a little nonetheless.

“I’m not the only one going through this. I talked to the other member about it, too, and he gave me a lot of advice.” he adds.

Your brows furrow, “Someone else in your group is in a relationship?” It makes you feel much better knowing he wouldn’t have to choose between his career and you.

“Oh, sure. There are lots of labelmates that are in relationships, but yeah, another EXO member is.” he clarifies against your head.

Pouting, you ask, “Who?”

You can feel his smile against your temple, “I want you to guess.”

Scoffing, you accept his challenge, “Jongin or Baekhyun?” It was educated, considering their previous relationships. It was more than likely one of them.

“Nope.”

You think a little harder on it. Most of the others seem to shy or too busy. You think back to the last time you saw them, all at karaoke. Was anyone glued to their phone or giving away hints? You may have missed a clue when you went to the bathroo- oh.

“It’s Jongdae.” you state matter-of-factly.

Junmyeon stills, “How did you guess that?”

You laugh, “Last time, he made a comment about you and I being in a relationship right before you came out to find me and he said it in a weird way? Now that I think back about it, it was in a way that said he knew what it was like to struggle like we do.”

Junmyeon huffs, “I understand.”

You want to ask, now that it’s been brought up, “Is that why you knew we weren’t talking about anything weird in the hallway? Why you knew for sure Jongdae wasn’t into me?”

It’s his turn to chuckle softly, “Yes.”

You feel foolish, “I’m sorry I said you were jealous then.”

He laughs louder, smiling a bit more, “It’s okay. You’re right, I can get jealous. Especially when we were not exclusively together yet- the idea of anyone else being interested in you made me very frustrated.”

“But your own members though? That seems a bit unlikely.”

He pouts at you, “When Baekhyun and Jongin first invited you over I didn’t like it. I thought they might try to steal you from me.”

You laugh obnoxiously this time, covering your mouth, “I knew something was wrong! I felt you stiffen up!”

Both of you are grinning like idiots now, “Don’t worry. I’m happy to be friendly with everyone but I’m only interested in one person.”

“Oh?” he inquires, “Who might that be?”

Your grin is playful, “Oh just some guy. He’s like the leader of this band of chaotic singers or something, I don’t know.” You add a shrug to the end to emphasize your feigned nonchalance.

“I better make sure I let him know you’re mine, then, right?” he smirks with one brow cocked upward, face leaning closer to kiss at your lips.

You push back at him, making him lean back into his seat on the couch, “Later. Right now, I want to take all of that stress away for you.”

He pouts, “You don’t have to do anything, I’ll be okay.”

Shaking your head, you stand from the couch and make yourself comfortable between his knees on the floor, “I want to. You work so hard, let me take care of you, please.”

The way the words unfurl from your mouth has Junmyeon complying in no time at all. He quickly shuts up, letting your hands creep up his thighs slowly. It doesn’t take long for your fingers to wander, slipping beneath the fabric of his hoodie to grasp the waistband of his pants. You let them pause, heating with the warmth of his skin.

He smiles lazily at you, “You’re so pretty.” he whispers just audibly enough.

His compliment makes you smile, teasing him by laying your cheek against his thigh. You mouth rests just beside the place you want, letting him twitch to life from the anticipation alone.

You sigh, letting your chin turn upward gently to rest over the area, looking directly at Junmyeon. A grin tugs at your lips, feeling the proof of his growing arousal. His eyes are on your lips, his own pouted open.

At an agonizingly slow pace, you pull at his pants. He helps you guide them down, lifting his buttocks from the relaxing hold of your couch. You want Junmyeon to enjoy this. Enjoy it messily and without delay, throwing caution and propriety out of reach. You want him aching and swollen and ready to burst. You want to see him forget about his stress and fall up into cloud nine.

With these thoughts in mind you drag the athletic pants until they are around his ankles along with his boxers. You attention remains focused on him, almost all the way hard against his thigh just where your face was.

Gently, you let your fingers smooth back up and over his knees, your mouth quick to follow the path until you force his knees apart as best you can. So far, he seems to have no complaints about your control over him.

His breath hitches at the first touch of your warm fingers against his cock, loosely gripping around the base. It doesn’t take long for him to gain full rigidity in your soft grasp. Subconsciously, your lips pout, realizing this may not last as long as you hoped.

He laughs quietly, squirming in your grip.

“What?” you ask with a silly smile, eyes wide.

He smiles, lifting one hand to poke at your lip, “It shouldn’t be cute but you pouting at me in this kind of situation turns me on.”

You huff indignantly, instead angling yourself toward him and kissing the tip to shut him up. It’s super effective, and Junmyeon can only suck his lip between his teeth and stare as you set to work.

You’re determined to give him the best orgasm of his life, slowly sinking your wet mouth over him, letting your lips envelop him fully and lowering until he hits the back of your throat.

He moans softly, and you can hear the sound of his head falling back against the plush cushion. You want to smirk or look up and see his face, but you remain focused on your mission.

Slowly, you repeat the motion several times, listening intently to the increasing respiration of your lover. You let your nails softly scratch over his hip or abs while the other remains holding the base of him, occasionally pumping to match the rhythm of your mouth.

Too quickly for your liking, Junmyeon seems close. His abs are twitching beneath your palm, stuffed under his hoodie, and the muscles in his thighs are quivering slightly. His mouth spills beautiful sounds of pleasure as you take him deeper. Relaxing your throat, his length slides past with mild effort until your nose is pressed into his skin and he keens.

Swallowing once, he whimpers out a weak 'fuck’ with a ragged breath. You can feel his abs clench as he tries not to sit up and curl himself over your body to bring you closer.

His hands have behaved all this time until he collects a bundle of your hair and makes a soft fist, trying to control your pace.

Instantly, you’re rising off of him, forcing his hand from your head. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a stern look of pure mischief.

“No.” you say, “Keep your hands to yourself until I say so.” You like the authoritative sound of your voice, and love the look he serves you at your instructions. His eyes suddenly seem to sparkle.

He doesn’t say anything about it, apparently accepting your words as law. Rather, he licks his red bitten lips and lets his eyes flick down to the shining head of his cock, glistening with your saliva as if to ask what you’re waiting for.

As punishment, you purse your lips and blow cool air onto him gently. His answering hiss makes him get the picture and settle back against the couch. Immediately, you’re back on him.

The whine that pitches up his throat has your core clenching around emptiness, but you ignore it in favor of bringing him bliss. Hollowing your cheeks, you continue your onslaught, sucking and swallowing around him until he’s a shaking mess in your hold.

Before he can reach his high, you back off, gripping the base of him tightly. Junmyeon cries softly, “Wha… what don’t stop, please.” His head flops back to the couch cushion again and he puffs out his cheeks to catch his breath.

You shush him, letting the nails of your free hand drag a little harder against his hip and thigh to distract him as you kiss the head of his cock, angry and red.

He’s panting, stuffing a hand into his hair to sweep it back off of his forehead. He lifts his head, blinking rapidly down at you with furrowed brows, you can feel his hips flexing against your arm as he tries to create friction and control himself all at once.

“Please, sweetheart, I can’t.” he breathes.

You smile at him, reassuring, “Yes you can, just relax and calm down.”

Junmyeon tries his best for you, letting his body sag back into the cushion and breathing deeply with his eyes closed. His fingers jerk and flutter at his sides.

Once you think it’s safe, you resume slowly. Relaxing the tight grip you have of him, you let your mouth descend upon him again. You kiss, lick and tease him with gentle stimulation. The sounds you’re creating together are obscene, and it paints an instantaneous flush over your skin. You’re so warm and you can feel your own arousal pooling.

Junmyeon is having a hard time controlling his body from the small spasms of pleasure beginning to curl his toes. The most sinful groan drops from his lips as he feels you lips wrap around his wet, aching cock once more. Your pace is much slower but you don’t think he’s complaining.

The sound of your lips gliding over his slicked skin are tearing you apart and setting your body on fire. You can feel his thighs quaking and his hips softly lifting as he comes close to the edge again.

He dips his head back, “I need to come.” he warns, voice quiet and strained through the tension in his jaw.

So you ease yourself back off of him, kissing at his thighs while you wrap your hand tightly around the base of him once again. Fascinated with the strong feeling of his pulse from his cock, you go to war with yourself on what is better to stare at. His perfect manhood, angrily flushed and swollen, leaking and soaked from your mouth. Or his face, spun up in a tragic pout as his mouth hangs, seemingly unhinged from his jaw. His abs flutter when you pass your palm over them. He groans sourly but it still sounds so delicious.

“You’re so pretty.” you murmur back to him, mirroring his earlier sentiment to you with a saccharine smile. He tries and fails miserably to smirk at you, whimpering when you give him one tiny, shallow stroke up from the base.

“Too m-much.” he blurts out, hardly able to keep himself all the way seated against the couch holding his twitching form.

You feel powerful having reduced such a man to a mess of quivering whimpers, a mess of pleasure just for you. It makes you feel good, and it feels even sweeter to know Junmyeon will get the relief he so desperately needs. It feels like lightning courses through your being, vibrating with excitement as you smile, lowering your mouth over him again.

He cries out this time, an exclamation of pleasure and he cannot contain his jittery limbs anymore as his hand finds its way into your hair. He doesn’t try to control your head though- choosing instead to gently push the hair that has fallen into your eyes from your loose hairstyle as it dries. You allow it, cherishing it even more as you lift your eyes up to see he’s slouched over, head tilted against his own shoulder to watch you almost choke on his cock over and over again.

“P-please… oh,my god, please, I want to c-come.” he comments with lips apparently too loose to form words as sharply as he normally does.

Your fingers spread over his thighs, feeling them shaking as he pushes himself further back into your couch, reflexively raising his hips to bury himself impossibly deeper in your mouth.

You decide it’s enough, hollowing your cheeks and hastening your rhythm by just enough, sucking at his length lewdly until he’s moaning with every breath he takes. His body is hard and tense beneath you.

Flicking your eyes up to his, he whimpers, “Oh, god, yes… yes, fuck.”. You nearly choke as you try to take him back farther, your throat constricting around the bit of him that reaches. His eyes screw shut tightly and he mimics a face of pain until he releases the loudest groan you’ve ever heard from him, along with his impending release.

Even though the taste isn’t something you always enjoy, the act of giving a blowjob and seeing your lover fall apart in such an explicit way is something you don’t ever think you’ll dislike.

Junmyeon is a beautiful human being and a beautiful soul and you feel your own pleasure soaking your underwear as his orgasm rocks through him so completely. His body jerks, a tear spills from the corner of one eye, his lips are red and puffy and shiny as they split and release sounds that make you shiver with desire.

You feel triumphant when you rise, having brought him to such heights as he twitches with every inch you rise off of him until he slumps back and takes a single deep breath. A lopsided, easy grin is plastered onto his face, the apples of his cheeks dusted a warm rose. He’s looking at you through half-open eyes.

Your knee pops loudly in the following silence when you stand.You brush away his bangs from his forehead, dampened by a bit of sweat.

“Thank you.” he whispers reverently, taking your hand from his face to hold it to his chest.

His softness breaks a wide smile over your face. You feel so light and elated at having successfully released some of his tension. The urge to take care of him is strong, making it easier to ignore the desire to have him between your legs.

You rise from your place, “You’re welcome.” you whisper in reply. It feels like it would be too loud to talk at normal volumes in this space.

He reclines, moving a hand into his hair as he releases your hand, smiling to himself sweetly as he watches you move. With his eyes fixed on your form, he looks your way until you disappear into the bathroom. He can hear the water running and the sound of scrubbing. You must be brushing your teeth.

When you emerge from the hall with a damp cloth, you sit beside him again, letting the warmth run over first his thighs and then his softened manhood. Junmyeon twitches and sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t move or say anything otherwise until you’re finished.

With warm and gentle hands he pulls the cloth from your fingers and toes off the pile of clothing tangled around his feet. The rag joins his pants on the floor, followed by his hoodie as he rips it over his head.

No words are said as he slowly clasps one of your wrists and guides you to sit, fully clothed, over his lap. His palms are warm where they settle against one hip and the opposite side of your ribs.

You make a sound of surprise as the flavor of his lips meets yours, unexpected yet delightfully fruity. Junmyeon grins, holding you so delicately in his arms. His kisses are slow and grow in depth as he sweeps his tongue along the seam of your lips.

Complying, your arms settle around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair that sweeps across the nape of his neck, cupping his jaw softly, anywhere you can reach to caress your adoration for him against his skin.

He groans softly at the heat of your body pressed against him, and his fingers skim below the edges of your camisole, lifting slowly in a silent plea.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to.” you whisper against his lips, turning your head to press your cheek against his.

You feel more than see Junmyeon smile against your face, “I want to. I just need a minute to recover.” He laughs quietly.

Your heart leaps as you realize you can hear his smile in his voice. Lifting your head, you grin back at him with a nod. He wastes no time in slowly peeling your top off and flinging it to the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Junmyeon kisses you again, hungrily this time, as if the growing exposure of your soft skin is more than he can bear to control himself over. He cups the back of your neck, pulling you to lean into him smoothly until his mouth can reach your shoulder easily.

He kisses, some chaste, mostly open mouthed and warm, from the side of your neck, down your shoulder, pulling the strap of your bra down your arm until his trailing mouth reaches the joint. His hand slides up your side, over your ribs until he’s cupping the swell of your breast over the clothing.

In one smooth motion he pulls the cup down until he can easily grasp the fullness of it without clothing, and he moans softly as his mouth freely descends over your nipple.

You gasp and whine against him, pushing your chest further into his delicious mouth. His tongue, skilled and wet, rolls over the bud until it’s peaked. He releases momentarily to plant a kiss directly over it, making you shiver against him.

Impatient, you break out of his loose grasp, sitting up to reach behind you and fling the offending garment from your body. You smile against one another’s mouths, claiming each others breaths until his hands slide up the back of your thighs.

His fingertips skim beneath your shorts, and the touch of them against the swell of your ass under the fabric shifts something in the both of you. A sudden urgency to be connected as you pull back to look at his face and watch him looking at you with the same desire and fascination.

It registers in your mind that he’s half hard beneath you, stiffening with his need to be buried in your warmth. Junmyeon’s breathing comes shallow now as his blood begins to race faster for you. His fingers ghost over your hips hurriedly, fumbling for the button of your shorts.

The moment he pops it you climb off of his lap to shove them to the floor along with your panties. As you do this, he adjusts, moving to recline his shoulders against the arm of your couch in a split second. His hands and mouth can’t find your skin fast enough when you try not to hurt him in your attempt to climb back into his lap.

The angle of his body forces you forward until your breasts are pressed firmly against his strong chest. He plants a messy kiss to the side of your neck as his hands find your hips as he takes himself in his hand, guiding himself back and forth through your wetness.

The repeated motion pulls a whimper from you and a groan from him, sucking in a breath as you plant your palm against his chest and sit back. You can’t wait any longer, having been so desperate for him for what feels like hours.

The relief of his cock filling you with no trouble is so intense it spills a tear from your eye. Below you, Junmyeon moans, digging his heels into the couch harder to let you fall back into his chest.

Neither of you move for a moment, just breathing and enjoying the pressure of your bodies pressed together completely.

Junmyeon is staring at you, his eyes wide and bright as he looks between each of your own with a fondness you simply bask in. You’ve learned when he looks at you like this, he sees you as a flower that only blooms for him, with him, because of him.

He slides himself out, almost completely, before just as slowly raising his hips to bury himself back inside of you. His gaze remains on your face, mirroring your pleasure on his.

You compliment his rhythm with your body, meeting him softly thrust for thrust. Small sounds of pleasure slip between you but the intimate moment is mostly filled with the sounds of your mingled panting. It won’t take you long to reach your high, you can feel how tightly wound you already are.

Junmyeon’s cheeks are flushed, his forehead damp with a sheen of sweat again as he closes his eyes and kisses you. One of his hands curls over the back of your neck to keep your lips against his.

He gives a particularly deep thrust, using the other hand clutching your hip to push you harder onto his lap with a groan. Driving on like this, you’re close.

You lift your head to breathe, settling your forehead against his own and closing your eyes. Every thrust pushes a soft gasp past your lips as he works your bodies in unison.

“Can you come like this?” he asks on a whisper against your cheek, checking. He can feel that you’re close, but isn’t sure if it’s enough to push you over the edge.

You nod, feeling the edges of your orgasm beginning to creep in. The air is humid in the space around you, all of the skin between you sticky with heat. Junmyeon tilts you further into him, sinking lower onto the couch so he can angle his hips better.

Just enough so he hits a place he’s never hit before. A spot that spins you rapidly toward your release as he hits it a second time and you cry out his name.

“Oh, fuck.” you whine in his ear, one of your hands tangling your fingers in the back of his hair. He hisses, brow furrowing in concentration with your tightening heat.

He thrusts sharply, pace becoming fast and hard into your heat, making a mess of  his lap where you drip around him. So long you’ve waited for him. The explicit sound of your activity, the heat of his skin, the smell of his cologne and sweat. The taste of him on your lips, the closeness of his body, all things that propel you to cloud nine suddenly as if having launched to the sky on a rocket.

Junmyeon can feel you before you make a sound, squeezing him so tightly, your thighs shaking, your breath holding in small pants that you release with a gasp each time. Your body freezes on top of his until you cry loudly against his hair.

It’s beautiful, he thinks. You’re beautiful, surrounding him and surrendering to him like this. Shaking in his arms as he drives his cock deep into your perfect heat, your fingernails digging into his shoulder and tightening in his hair.

It’s the sound of his name falling like a prayer, a blessing and curse, gasped from your lips all at once that rips his orgasm from him suddenly. He groans, freeing a breathe he didn’t realize he’d been holding until he’s panting right along with you, riding his high.

In the back of his mind he takes note of how tired his body feels, how deeply his thighs ache from exertion. You laugh above him, your bodies stuck like glue as you bend to kiss him, carefree.

“You okay?” he asks you on impulse.

Nodding, you dip your head to kiss him again, “Never better.”

You bask with him in the moment, the post-sex glow that has you both smiling at one another, not minding the sweaty mess you’ve become there on your couch.

The moment he softens and slips from your core, you grimace. The slick mess you’ve made begins to ooze down the inside of your thigh onto his, and you look at him with a frown.

“Shower?” he offers, still grinning.

__________________________________________

You sleep the best you have in ages. The birds don’t wake you as easily today. Instead, all of your own, your body wakes you with an uncomfortably full bladder.

The soft snores beside you gain your attention. Junmyeon, your boyfriend, is sound asleep. His face is relaxed and peaceful. The sun envelops your room from the window, like always, shining across the floor and spilling its warmth onto your bed.

His dark hair is pushed partially off of his forehead and up onto the pillow. From where his cheek rests against the soft white of your linens, his face squishes adorably, and you stifle a giggle so you don’t wake him yet.

You’re reminded of your wish, to see him in your bed, uninterrupted. To steal those first glances of him, his skin and hair glowing with morning sunlight while he still sleeps. You feel wonderful in that moment, eyes mapping his face and memorizing everything about this moment, down to the heat of his body beside yours in your bed. The comfort of him being here. The sense of peace.

A rhythmic vibration comes from your dresser. You realize, sneaking out of bed, it’s his phone, plugged in and charging from the outlet beside the furniture. Glancing at him, he doesn’t move.

Approaching the device, you stand in the sunlight heating your carpet. You flex and wiggle your toes over the softness, reveling in the warmth as you peek at his phone. A selfie of himself with Sehun is illuminating the screen, a phone icon tilting from left to right in the center with Sehun’s contact information below it.

For a moment you debate answering it until it’s too late and it stops. It’s only when it repeats and Sehun calls him a second time do you decide to unplug it and carry it quickly to to the living room to answer it.

“Hello?” you say gently into the receiver.

“Y/N?” Sehun breathes, sounding relieved.

You look back at your open bedroom door, leaning back to further look inside at Junmyeon, who hasn’t moved an inch.

“Yeah, is everything okay?” you ask, walking to the kitchen. You glance at your medication on the counter. You should take it- but you need to relieve your bladder before you drink anything.

Turning back to the living room, Sehun answers you in a rush, “I’m assuming since you answered, he’s with you?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” you ask, leaning against the wall and looking out of a window, down at the street in front of your apartment.

Sehun sighs, “He just up and left and didn’t tell anyone where he was going and oh, I don’t know, hasn’t answered any of our texts or calls.”

You feel guilty suddenly, “Sehun I’m so sorry.”

“Even Soohyun didn’t know if he was with you. He said he tried to call you but you didn’t answer either. He told me if you didn’t answer this morning he was going to go to your place.”

Quickly and quietly, you fly back to your bedroom, leaning down to check your phone.

Sure enough, you’ve got seven missed calls from Soohyun and one from an unknown number. Twelve text messages accompany the notification bar. Majority are from Soohyun, but you read two of them are from the unknown number, telling you it’s Sehun and asking if Junmyeon is with you. Checking why you missed all of their attempts to reach you, you see your phone is on silent, somehow.

You breathe in deeply, “I’m sorry, my phone was on silent by accident.”

The idol is silent for a minute, “Just tell me he’s okay.” he demands softly after a moment.

Junmyeon, having heard noise, stirs in the sheets. His body curls in on itself slowly, his dark hair disappearing beneath the white covers before he stretches back out, his bare arms reaching over his head with a groan.

“Yeah, I think he’s okay now.” you say quietly.

Junmyeon rolls over, facing you and squinting one eye open. He smiles at you but frowns shortly after, seeing his phone pressed to your ear.

He sits up, quickly rubbing his eyes and holding out a hand.

“Hang on, he just woke up.” you comment, passing the phone over to him before climbing back on the bed.

His arm curls around your waist as you curl up next to him. He kisses your hair and you can hear Sehun from the other line yelling at him.

“Yes, yes, okay, I got it. My bad.” he groans, still half asleep.

You’ve come to learn Sehun doesn’t just get mad- he gets concerned. Angrily upset, when it comes to Junmyeon, his best friend, his brother, his leader. You can hear the fear in his voice, answered by Junmyeon’s soft assurance that he’s okay and he is sorry for making him worry.

“I just needed some space away.” your lover comments with a sigh, rubbing the warmth of his palm up and down your arm.

While you listen, you shoot Soohyun a text that everything is fine and he doesn’t need to come over and you’re sorry your phone was on silent. The anxiety of the situation fizzles out and you relax just to notice you still need to pee.

With a pout from him, you extract yourself to use the bathroom while he finishes his conversation, slumped over and groggy, rubbing his face.

He’s still on the phone when you emerge, so you head for the coffee pot. Your hands work on autopilot to fill the decanter with water, pour it in, spoon in the grounds, get out cups and click the ‘start’ button.

Lost in thought, you pick up the imposing bottle of your medication where it rests beside the coffee pot. You reread the label over a few times, just as always, before unscrewing the safety cap and shaking one out into your palm. You make a mental note to order a refill soon, squinting one eye to look into the bottle and count how many are left.

Rough hands sliding around your waist startle you, dropping the bottle onto the counter and spilling some onto its surface.

[thevintagebluebird]

Unpinned - Seared Fish with Creamed Kale and Leeks

Hello everyone - it’s been a minute. And Allan has been frequently playing NPR podcasts out loud. So hey! Welcome to the end of the longest winter ever to exist! We made it! I lost my energy to cook for a while there but I’m slowly getting back into it, usually sans instructions - I also subscribed to the NY Times and so now y’all are getting a newspaper recipe. We’re full adulting now. Buckle up.

Seared Fish with Creamed Kale and Leeks! Ah crap, I’ve just realize this is two NY Times recipes in a row. I promise the next one will be a handwritten recipe straight from my grandma. She just bought me a new safety mandolin and things are about to get LIT in my kitchen as a result. Safely. Anyway.

Verdict: Is the Pintrest photo complete bullshit? Yes. But to be fair, this was a complete struggle meal for me that I did not adequately prepare for and I used freakin’ frozen cod so like what did I expect.

Is it crazy expensive/time consuming/confusing? I classify the NY Times recipes as ‘intermediate’; I found this to have what felt like more steps than necessary, and took a while. It wasn’t too expensive except that kale and leeks are on my shopping list maybe once every five years, and non-frozen fish would’ve been well worth the money.

Does it taste good? YEAH. Way better than it had any right to taste. You’ll understand why later.

Seared Fish with Creamed Kale and Leeks

INGREDIENTS

4 (5- to 6-ounce) Arctic char or other mild fish fillets, such as salmon

Kosher salt and black pepper

1 ½ pounds curly kale

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 large leek (about 1/2 pound), trimmed, white and pale greens quartered lengthwise then thinly sliced

6 large fresh thyme sprigs

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 cup heavy cream

1 ½ teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon chicken or vegetable stock concentrate, like Better Than Bouillion

Cooked white rice or pearl couscous, warmed, for serving

2 tablespoons olive oil

Prepare your fish: Pat the fish dry, then salt the skin side to help draw out moisture. Set on a plate and refrigerate, uncovered.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high. Prepare your kale: Pull the leaves off the stems and tear leaves into bite-size pieces. Wash vigorously, drain, then set aside.

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium. Add the leek, thyme and garlic, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring frequently, until soft, about 7 minutes.

Stir in the cream and bring to a boil over high. Continue to cook on high until thickened, about 5 minutes. Using a fine-mesh sieve set over a liquid measuring cup or small bowl, strain the sauce, pressing to extract as much liquid as possible. (You should have about 1/2 cup sauce.) Set aside the solids and return the sauce to the saucepan. Whisk in the mustard and stock concentrate, and season with salt and pepper. Cover and set aside.

Discard the thyme sprigs and stir the cooked leek mixture into cooked rice, if desired. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Once the sauce is done, blanch the kale in the boiling water until just wilted, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a colander to drain and rinse under cold water. Once cool enough to handle, squeeze out the excess liquid. Add to the strained cream, then season with salt and pepper. Cover, and warm over low, stirring occasionally.

Cook the fish: Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high. Pat the fish dry a second time, then season the skin with pepper, and the flesh with salt and pepper. Add to the hot oil, skin-side down, and cook until the skin is crispy and golden, about 3 to 4 minutes. Carefully flip the fish and cook until the outside starts to turn golden, but the thickest part of the fish is still slightly translucent, about 3 minutes.

Divide the rice (if using), creamed kale and fish among plates and serve immediately.

So here’s what you need! Sort of! You’ll notice I have store brand yellow mustard instead of dijon, coconut milk instead of cream, frozen cod instead of fresh char, no fresh thyme, and I forgot to photograph my (brown not white) rice. Like I said, this one was an unprepared-for struggle.

Our beloved, trusty, 15 year old CVS rice cooker. Hasn’t failed me yet. 

My sous chef rushing to help get the dishes unloaded so I can have some space in our new kitchen! It has counters mounted facing each other with just enough room for a Rew and an Allan to get precisely in each other’s way.

Do the ‘ol cold water dethaw on your bland fish. You couldn’t even remember to thaw the fish properly. You probably don’t deserve to be attempting a NY Times recipe. What were you thinking.

Pretend you have any idea how to make kale edible. The stem seems hard so shred the leafy bits off? The smug smile is a lie.

This kale will be edible right?! Definitely not curly, definitely not as much as the recipe called for.

Leeks! I actually LOVE leeks, I just never interacted with them growing up and don’t really understand which parts you’re supposed to chop/cook/eat and which are meant to be tossed. It’s easy with a carrot - cut off the green and eat the orange. But leeks are just ombre gradients of green then suddenly white? We eat it all? Are some parts better than others? How much is TOO much leek? Special appearance in the background by fancy chocolates from Salem.

Pardon my blurry photos, it is way past time for a new phone. They look like veggie clipped toenails. Delicious.

Ok now it’s time to share my real shame: my coconut milk had spoiled. I did not have any cream. I did not have any real milk. I frantically googled different cream replacements, NONE of which I had the ingredients for. So I made this absolute abomination. It is (forgive me): vanilla greek low-fat yogurt whipped into plain almond milk with a little bit of melted butter stirred in. It smelled like frosting gone bad.

OH WELL IN IT GOES. Things got vaguely...creamy. <eyebrow waggle>

Then it tells you to squeeze all the cream out of your beautiful leeks. Easier said than done. This process was messy and resulted in WAY less liquid than I had hoped - if I’d used real cream I would’ve just...added more. Instead I had leek-flavored vanilla greek yogurt almond juice. DO definitely save the leek bits for your rice!

Pour your pathetic amount of leek yogurt juice back into the pan and desecrate it with flippin’ yellow mustard and boullion. Push down the despair. Make sure to do this while hangry at like 9pm.

“Blanche” your kale, aka give it a day at the sauna. Boiling water for just two minutes then squeeze the ever loving heck out of it. Everything you’re cooking for this recipe ends up with tiny portions WHY.

YUM! Go mix your leek leftovers into your rice. Next time maybe just make leek leftovers and rice and skip everything else? At least this time you started the rice first, good job!

Mix the mustard yogurt juice with your wet leaves. How did all those ingredients shrink so damn much? You are so hungry.

Cook your fish. Remember at the very end you were supposed to, y’know, SEASON it. Absolute amatur hour over here.

Your warm wet leaf goo! It actually smells very good. This is my smallest saucepan, if that gives you any sense of what a tiny portion this made. Thank goodness for leeky rice.

Aaaaaaaaand plated! I told you it didn’t look anything like the Pintrest photo. It was promptly inhaled and while I know hunger is the best seasoning, Allan also agreed it was tasty despite him not liking any of the individual ingredients!

Final final verdict: I don’t have a ton of fish/seafood recipes in my repertoire, so I’m keeping this one around for now but would tackle it again with more kale and double the sauce ingredients, as well as, y’know CREAM and FRESH FISH. But for what a Frankenstein’s monster I made of it, it was pretty good! 

[haberdashing]

did it hurt (when you fell from heaven)? (4/?)

The world is changing now, and many of its inhabitants are changing with it.

They are calling it a Transangelic Epidemic: the sudden and monstrous transformation of hundreds of good citizens.

Sasha James doesn’t think it’s anything she should be concerned about until, after spending the night with a coworker who’s more than just a coworker, her back begins to ache…

Inspired by Transangelic Exodus; should be readable without having read that first, but they are very much set within the same verse.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

The Tube ride to work was longer starting from Tim’s place than Sasha was used to, and only some of that was time seeming to slow to a crawl as she planned and plotted and analyzed and worried and picked at her fingernails until they were half-torn to shreds, because if the strangers around her saw her as that weird woman picking at her fingernails then at least the strangers around her saw her as a woman and not just as an angel, and God, the Tube stations were already filling with fliers about missing people that had probably been transformed, probably been abducted by the authorities, probably would never return-

“Sash?”

And Tim was by Sasha’s side, his shoulder brushing against hers throughout this too-long ride, and Sasha couldn’t focus on much else when he was looking at her with that twinkle in his eyes.

“Sorry, just... God, this is taking forever, isn’t it?”

Tim squeezed her shoulder (gently, so gently, careful to avoid the spots that still ached, the spots now well-covered by one of her thicker jumpers even though there was nothing anyone else could see there just yet). “Hey, just think of it this way--you’ll only have to do this once.”

Sasha laughed, though her heart wasn’t entirely in it, her eyes flitting between Tim’s face and the flyers they passed by, the ads reminding good citizens to report suspected transformations immediately. “I hope you’re right about that one.”

“Course I am.” And he grinned at that, one of Tim’s trademark wide grins that would’ve looked a bit awkward on anyone else but looked just right on him, though his dark eyes still looked back at her with a bit less levity. “When have I ever been wrong before?”

“Do you want the list alphabetized, or should I just go in chronological order?”

Tim poked Sasha’s side. Sasha poked Tim’s side right back.

A minute later, their stop finally came.

They didn’t hold hands on the way to the office, but the two of them walked side by side, and Sasha’s hand brushed against Tim’s more than once.

They parted ways when they get to the office, though, Tim going to his usual desk (though he turned around to shoot Sasha a wink before moving out of sight) while Sasha headed not to her own desk, but to the Human Resources department.

It wasn’t hard to find, thankfully, though Sasha had never gone to it before, at least not in person. (There had been times where she had considered it, times where she’d heard a coworker’s bigoted comment and thought about reporting them, but she always stopped herself in the end, worried that kicking up a fuss would just end with her being the one kicked to the curb.) She’d made sure she knew who the best person to contact directly about this sort of matter was, too, so it wasn’t long before Sasha strolled into the office of one Maryam Karim.

Maryam’s hair was the same pitch black as Sasha’s, though Maryam’s was much straighter than Sasha’s wild curls, and her skin was only a few shades lighter than Sasha’s own, a sight which brought a slight smile to Sasha’s face as she walked closer.

Maryam looked away from her computer and up at Sasha as she entered the office, closing the door behind her. “Can I help you?”

Sasha forced her genuine slight smile into a wider one. “I certainly hope so. My name is Sasha James, and I’m here to request that I be allowed to work from home as soon as possible. My work is all on the computer anyhow, and I’ve already made sure than my home computer will be more than capable of doing everything I do here in the office.”

Maryam’s face settled into a slight frown. “Now, I’m afraid we don’t generally allow our employees to work from home, but it’s possible that we could make an exception in your case. Might I ask why you wish to do so?”

“Of course. It’s required for medical reasons. More than that is between my doctors and myself, but rest assured that I’ve examined all possibilities, and coming to the office regularly simply isn’t feasible given the state of my current health conditions.”

It wasn’t a lie. That was the beauty of it--Sasha was a horrible liar, it was true, and she was fairly sure half the office knew as much, but it wasn’t a lie. Polished a bit, perhaps, couched in the sort of bureaucratic language that HR would hopefully eat right up, but true just the same, and the words flowed freely because of it.

“Right. Well, we certainly respect your medical privacy, Ms. James. Now, would this request be temporary or permanent in nature?”

Sasha hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. The authorities claimed that their work was all done in the name of preventing further transformations, and perhaps curing those who were currently undergoing them. Was that true, or just a smokescreen for their real agenda? And if a cure got released after all, would Sasha even want to take it?

“...I don’t know.” Another truth, though not a full one. “I suppose it’s best to assume that it’s permanent, and if I end up able to return to the office after all, I can let you know.”

“Alright, I’ll be sure to note as much. Now, as I said before, such requests are unusual, and I cannot guarantee that we will be able to fully accommodate yours, but you should receive an email letting you either way in a few weeks’ time-”

Sasha shook her head. “I can’t do this for a few weeks. I need this processed immediately.”

“It takes time for things to go through the system, Ms. James. Surely you can understand as much.”

“And surely you can understand that not all medical needs can be put on hold for weeks at a time.”

“Well-”

Sasha leaned forward. Maryam had never offered the seat facing her desk, and Sasha had never gone ahead and taken the seat herself, so while Maryam was seated, Sasha remained standing in front of her. Sasha was abnormally tall for a woman, she knew that well enough, and while sometimes she disliked her height, she appreciated how it let her loom over Maryam that much more effectively now.

“May I be frank with you, Ms. Karim?”

Maryam blinked a few times before responding. “Certainly.”

“I’ve been underpaid here for years, criminally so when you compare my salary to industry standards. I think we both know why, and I think we both know that those reasons aren’t entirely legal. Combine that with certain comments I’ve heard from coworkers over the years and, well... it wouldn’t reflect well on the company, that much I know.”

Maryam’s face paled a bit, and Sasha felt a pang of sympathy, but she kept speaking just the same.

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. I certainly don’t want to have to hire a solicitor to pursue my claims in court. And I’m not asking for a promotion, or a raise, or anything like that. I simply want the company to accommodate my new medical disability, an accommodation that should be easy enough to make given my current work conditions. But if that’s not possible, well... I’ll have to take contact my solicitor and take further steps from there.”

Silence filled the air for a long moment as Maryam looked up at Sasha and Sasha back down at Maryam.

“I don’t have the authority for this, I’ll have to consult my supervisor-”

“Call them up, then. I’ll be outside waiting.”

Sasha strode back out of Maryam’s office, gently closing the door behind her before she leaned against a nearby wall and waited.

She didn’t envy Maryam, really. It wasn’t her fault the system was built like this.

She didn’t regret anything she’d said, though, either.

And once that office door finally opened again, once Maryam looked over at Sasha with a conciliatory expression and an awkward grin, Sasha knew that her speech had been well worth it.

[hyunqlns]

adventure to his heart ❦ hyunjin pt.2

⇴ genre: apocalypse!au ; angst ; future fluff

⇴ part : 2         | 1 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; |

⇴ description: just when you thought your crush, the well known school heartthrob hwang hyunjin, was your biggest problem, a crazy alien invasion managed to prove you wrong.

⇴ author’s note: inspired and based on the book and movie “the fifth wave”

⇴ warnings: apocalypse, swears

⇴ word count: 1884

you had known you'd regret it the moment you left the gymnasium with melanie and your dad.

hyunjin probably doesn't remember but in 5th grade, a soccer ball had hit you in the face thanks to his friends, and he was the one who god knows why took the blame, accompanying you to the nurse. you had an awkward conversation about his friends, but you really enjoyed it. you also had this other small conversation where you found out you had a few little things in common, but that was all until we hit high school and he became the star wide receiver for the soccer team and the most popular and reserved boy. no, he wasn't ever cocky or a jerk, but it was pretty hard to approach him with all those fangirls sticking to him like glue. and that's how you found yourself becoming just another loser watching him from the stands.

hyunjin indeed deserved his title "prince". he was the hottest boy in the school, yet the unreachable one. many wondered how and why is he still single. he had rejected (kindly) every girl trying to date him. he was also the nicest boy in the school. hyunjin wasn't an easy guy or a typical fuckboy. he was unique—wonderful. have you ever mentioned his smile and his eyes that form a little crescents when he does?

he was the boyfriend every girl'd wish for. it took you by surprise when melanie exclaimed she didn't like him. however, when she added that she liked his closest friend - felix, you were no longer surprised. hyunjin was in a big group with 8 more boys, including felix. they were inseparable and also liked to call their friend group "stray kids”. all 9 of them had looks that could kill, not to mention how talented they were in every area. woojin was the eldest - a boy that was going to graduate next year, along with his closest friend chan. minho, a big cat lover and an amazing dancer, was the closest to jisung, a squirrel who was a classmate of hyunjin and melanie. then there was changbin, a boy who with no wonder would’ve become one of the most popular rappers worldwide along with jisung, if it hadn’t been for the apocalypse. 

seungmin was the class president in class B, another classmate of mel and hyunjin. he was undoubtedly handsome and an angel. on the other hand, jeongin was the shyest and youngest.  

and then we had felix, or mel’s crush. he was a classmate of yours, the class clown, in fact. felix was really nice and popular amongst the girls. what made it even better was he was an aussie boy with a deep ass voice that had girls falling for him in a second. you've never really interacted with the freckled boy, but you could see why your sister was so whipped for him.

when you saw your dad appear in the doorway , you were extremely disappointed. your gut was telling you that was the last time you’ll be ever seeing hyunjin. or felix. or stray kids. or any student from this school. hyunjin is probably dead by now. like the rest of the people that sat on those bleachers.

when you went outside with dad and melanie, you asked about the car. "it doesn’t work” he replied, before we took the path home. it was a mile away from school, but that was the longest mile you have ever walked.

sometimes, when you’re laying in your sleeping bag and looking at the sky, you’re wondering.

are you really the last human on earth? no, it can't be. if you, a normal girl, managed to survive until now, there are probably tons of other people who did too, right? in your perspective, you were not special in any way, so there was no chance you were the last. that's what you liked to think, atleast. that you’re not completely alone. that out there, there are still many other people, just like you, trying to survive in this mess. every night, you’re drowning in your own fear so intense, you can't even close your eyes, scared that you will be never opening them again. you’re keeping your inhaler close to you, close to having an asthma or an anxiety attack every time you let yourself think about the world now.

all you could think of, aside the arrival of the others is the old you. that y/n, before the arrival. the girl who's biggest problem was her popular crush or her face when she hadn’t done her makeup perfectly. the y/n that was coming to terms that she was simply below the average in everything. in school. in looks. in arts. in sports. being a foreigner in korea was never really easy. 

sometimes you want to return back in time. scream at that y/n who thought these things are the life crisis and are worth crying over. scream at her for being a coward, a pussy and not telling hyunjin how she feels for years. scream at her for not knowing what awaits for her. but that wasn't any fair. the fact that she and the rest of the world had no idea what's coming wasn't fair.

the last person you saw was the soldier in that gas station convenience store. the image of you ending his life is still lingering and replaying in your mind. you refuse to accept the fact that you've killed. but at the end of the day, that's what the others do to you. they make you lose faith in other people. it's not going to be a surprise if the fifth wave is you. the last human bound to die getting killed by the last human alive. interesting scenario if someone had asked you.

the leaves are falling heavy now, the nights have turned cold. you no longer could stay here without the cover of the leaves. you can't either risk having a campfire drawing attention to your existence. you have to pack up and leave immediately.

you grab your luger, m16, ammo, bowie knife. sleeping bag, first aid kit, bottles of water, canned beans, underwear, socks, two more shirts and a pair of leggings. a paste and a toothbrush plus a shampoo. you need to be clean in order not to catch some flu or a disease. last but not least - your inhaler. you’d be damned without it.

you heave the backpack over your shoulder. you’re good to go now. at times like those, the only things crossing your mind are survival plans. you sling your ruffle on the other shoulder and continue your way.

on the next day, you have a debate with yourself if you should rather travel by day or night. both had pros and cons. darkness is the best if you're nervous about the others. but day time is way better to spot a drone before it....oh well, spots you.

and you question what is a drone? well, the drones showed up in the end of the third wave. they were shaped like cigar and gray. the drones streak across the sky, not stopping. they are what kills the rest of the people who managed to survive in the first three waves.

you decide to travel by day. you would have opted by night but you'll have to deal with more than just a drone. who knows if the wild animals won't be searching for their meal, which would be you.

as for the drones you’re baffled. you’ll travel by day, okay. but do you shoot on sight? or do you wait for the drone to make the first move and risk it being deadly? that's something you'll probably stumble upon, so you guessed it's going to be better if you’re somewhat prepared.

after walking towards cincinatti, you begin to smell it a mile before spotting the exit sign. you can see the column of smoke rising in the sky which immediately tells you that cincinatti is burning. your eyes water and you cry, stumbling back. your gut tells you to run. cincinatti is a threat. so you quicken my pace. but near exit 17 and 18, you spot the corpses.

in fact, three of them. the first one was an older guy, around your dad's age, you suppose. the second one was the corpse of a woman, not much older than you. she was wearing a pair of men's pajama pants, and a victoria secret tee. a skull ring was on her index finger. a bullet in the back of her head. a few inches away from her was a kid, around twelve, dressed in a black sweatshirt.

you returned to the woman again and touched her neck - still warm. crap.

you go back to the first guy, kneel and touch the hole between his ears. the blood is still warm and shiny.

fuck, i'm screwed. i'm so damn screwed. you think to yourself. you turn around. in front and behind you. - road. on your left and on your right - trees. you look up to be greeted by a fleck of dull gray. hello y/n. you can say goodbye to your life!

DARN IT!

you stand up— and when you stand up– you immediately feel a hot punch on your leg that catches you off guard and knocks you off your balance, making you stumble and fall. you’re shocked. no sound. no nothing. of course they use silencers. of course they fucking do. you lunge forward you riffle and try to take it— you had already dropped your m16 by the time the car’s window next to you exploded, showering you with shredded glass and dirt. you swiftly grab the luger from your waistband and jog— more like hopping run towards and under the closest car. you can't really feel the pain of the bullet in your leg now but you can feel the blood soaking through your jeans and you can surely take a guess that you're going to become very intimate with it later.

goddamn it, i'm cornered. you think to myself. that's a very tight fit under the car, even if you’re really petite, especially for your age. that's it y/n, you can say goodbye to your pathetic life. you cry. you should've stayed in the woods, curled up in your tent while looking at your mementos. atleast there'd be more room for you to run if they find you.

but no.

you think. and pray. you pray that it goes away. that it goes away faster and it all ends.

you continue to think. it's what you're made for, right? to think. you’re freezing cold and you have got no idea what to do. what if he drops down and greets you right next to your face, reaching for your leg, dragging you from under the car?? no, he's smart and probably thinks you’re loaded. a minute's already up. where the fuck is he? isn't he gonna finish you?—no, he probably knows you’re going to stay under the car and die from blood loss–or, you’re going to make a run for it and die because of blood loss again, or maybe another drone spotting you. either way you die. it knows what you know. it knows what you think.

but are you really going to let yourself bleed out until you die, under this old car? no way.