#because for the past months i have been struggling a lot and i almost lost all the connections with my friends family and bangtan

[taeyungie]

hi ♡ i guess i'm back? 🥹

here's a little life update! i think you guys deserve it after my absence that lasted longer than even i expected it to last ;( i am very sorry about that. i miss everyone here and bangtan so much, you have no idea. the reason for all that is that for the past months i have been going through a lot of things and changes in my life. there were good and bad things happening, time flies extra fast, days melt into one and i didn't even notice the past half a year pass. although i think my absence was unavoidable in these circumstances i just thought that you guys deserve to know what's been up with me for the past months haha i have received a lot messages and reminders that people remember about me and that they miss me and i just want to send all of you my biggest apologies for leaving you for so long with no response, as well as all my love and gratitude! 🥺 i think i've been always fairly transparent on here so if anyone wanted to know more I'll leave some more details in the tags but basically I just hope that soon i will be able to become more active again and respond to messages ❤️❤️❤️ i hope everyone is doing great 🥰

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Mistakes

Jungkook knew from the first look at your eyes, that you'd be the biggest mistake he'll ever make.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Smut, car sex, protected sex, no strings attached, big dick!Jungkook, implied size kink, very mild Dom!Kook undertones, oral (m. receiving), sugar daddy!Jungkook vibes but only in a joking manner

Length: 7k words (oops)

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook doesn't really attend parties- typically.

But this time, for this occasion, he can't really pull himself out- he's got to at least show up for a moment, be there and present, before he can call it a night and go home. It's not like he hates his coworkers or employees most of all- he's just not that good at socializing, and never really was.

He's learned to be alone, and now he's too good at it.

A lot of the people in the hall, he doesn't know. That's probably because he's allowed people to bring a plus-one, so most of the people here are couples, which makes the whole situation just so much worse. "You could at least try and appear like you're having fun, you know?" Taehyung laughs, standing closer to his coworker now, a drink in hand. "It's not that bad." He tries to lighten the mood, but Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

"It's not even been an hour and I already want to go." He sighs.

"Why not leave then?" Tae wonders, sipping his non-alcoholic drink, since he's gonna have to drive home later, his wife currently conversing with other coworkers. "Oh, right, because Namjoon-"

"God don't remind me." Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head as he sips his whiskey. "I can't believe I lost that bet." He growls to himself, watching how someone seems to struggle with choosing the right food at the buffet, plate still empty even after several minutes. You look young, or maybe you're just short- he's not sure, but what he is sure about is that you do not work for him or his company- at least not in the same building. He would've noticed you, just like he does right now.

"I think she's Yoongi's plus-one? Or at least he drove here with her together.." Taehyung mumbles, having spotted his friend watching you.

"She looks young." Jungkook mumbles. "And I thought Yoongi was seeing the secretary we hired a few months ago?" He wonders, finally letting his eyes leave you alone, form-fitting dress very complimenting to your body, not too revealing, but still somewhat teasing.

Taunting him, almost.

"Oh, he does! Namjoon caught them making out in Yoongi's office last week." Taehyung laughs. "She's probably just a friend." He shrugs.

A friend, huh?

"Maybe something for you though?" Taehyung jokes. "I mean, I think I saw her drinking earlier, so she's at least of legal age." He laughs, making Jungkook cringe at him. He doesn't really find this whole joke funny- not at all, but Taehyung is right when it comes to Jungkook having a.. severe lack of company these past few years. Only occasionally does he have some sex without any strings attached- never brings anybody home however, refuses to cling to someone.

He's divorced anyways. Most women don't really find that very appealing.

Maybe he can have some simple company this time as well, nothing serious at all- it's been a while, after all, and everyone's an adult here, no matter the age difference. As long as he communicates it properly, there's no reason not to at least converse with you.

So he does indeed approach you, finding you still at the buffet, barely anything on your plate at all.

"Too much to choose from?" He wonders next to you, and he realizes the huge mistake he's made when approaching you the second you lift your head to look at him.

The lights reflect in your eyes like mirrors, minimal makeup perfectly enhancing your features, lips shiny with the most sinful shade of lipgloss this world probably has to offer. He's a goner, right away, lost in the sight of you, as if he's been thrown into the deep end of a pool so cold that it freezes his muscles, making him sink down to the bottom like a stone.

"Oh, no.." You answer, looking back at all the foods. "I have a shellfish allergy, so I'm not sure what I can eat.." You mumble, one hand having reached up to play with the sparkling pink gemstone hanging around your neck.

His mouth feels dry for a second, before he catches himself.

"Here." He mentions, pointing at some small numbers near the names of the foods on the small cards. "Those small numbers, the three right there is for shellfish." He offers, pointing towards a different card close by where the numbers are explained.

"Oh! Thank you so much, I hate contact lenses!" You laugh to yourself. "I usually wear glasses, but I wanted to look pretty.." You giggle, putting some food onto your plate now.

"I'm sure nothing can ruin a face like that." He flirts without truly thinking about it- making you visibly blush, trying to contain a smile.

"I appreciate the compliment…?" You wonder, and Jungkook knows, he's probably about to make another, grave mistake.

"Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook." He introduces himself, and you tell him your name in return, smiling oh-so devastatingly beautiful.

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His plan was absolutely not to explore what might be beneath that pretty dress of yours- and it seems like that might stay that way despite his length inside you.

You're moving your hips in ways that makes him dizzy, mind clouded with lust as you bounce up and down, hands on your back the only thing helping you avoid accidentally hitting the steering wheel. He's pushed the seat back as far as it goes, but you can never be too sure- he wouldn't want you to honk and draw attention to the surely shaking vehicle in the darkened parking lot.

The condom had been pure luck- he's not a fan of pulling out, so if it hadn't been there in the glove box of his car, he probably would've had to awkwardly call it quits before anything really happened at all. It's not like you both instantly were at each other's throats the moment you left the gathering- he simply offered to drive you home instead of Yoongi, who'd wanted to stay a little longer, while you complained about feeling tired. And in his car, you'd talked- casually so, something clicking, as he's now got you on his lap, bouncing on his dick like he's not experienced in quite some time now.

He feels a bit bad. Despite making sure that you know this is nothing but a casual fuck, it still feels a little odd to him. He doesn't like things like these- it feels like he's using you, and he's not a fan of such situations.

Though he can't deny that you feel absolutely divine.

The rain is heavy outside, pushing against the car's windows from all sides, drowning out the otherwise rather obscene sounds coming from between your bodies. Your hands are on his shoulders, fingers gripping his muscles beneath the fabric of his formal button-up. He refuses to kiss you, can't find it in him to do it, and you accept it, instead treating it as detached as you can, simply chasing your high as you fuck yourself on his twitching length.

He feels good. Thick, able to reach far inside you, but not enough to hurt.

The way he holds you is nice too- not too strong of a grip, only enough to guide you, keep you moving, keep you going. He's not big on dirty talk, isn't over the top with anything, and it almost feels like he's treating you like a woman, and not some chick he's met at a party. There's a certain sense of respect he's offering you that gives you confidence, makes you feel powerful for once even though he's clearly setting the pace.

This is something you don't usually get to have. Someone taking you seriously.

"You close?" He asks out of breath, avoiding your eyes, rather looking at your lips, though never moving into action. A limit he's set, and a limit he follows, he's clearly a man that doesn't wildly change his mind on the fly. Though, considering who he is, and where he is in life, he probably has had enough time to be untamed and wild already. You faintly wonder if he's ever been in a long-term relationship. Yoongi hasn't really talked about him much.

Neither have you asked. You've seen him, once or twice- but a man like that is out of range for you.

You nod when he grips your behind, reminding you quietly of his question, hips stuttering as he takes over, helping you move to chase his own orgasm right after yours. You're a bit overly sensitive, but you push through it just to see him clench his jaw, eyes closing as he groans out in relief, cum spurting into the condom inside you.

It's suddenly over, and not even your evening breaths can mask the slight awkwardness that's filling the car.

One of his hands keeps you close, though you have to lean against him a bit as to not move your hips too much as he reaches for something from the glovebox, plastic wrap of the small pack of tissues making a distinctive sound. "You okay?" He asks you, and you nod, now having switched places apparently as you avoid his face entirely.

You rather move a bit weirdly to accept the tissue offered, lifting your hips to awkwardly wipe yourself down, before pulling up your underwear and climbing back into the passenger seat, where you clean the inside of your thighs while he discards the condom from his length with a slight hiss of sensitivity.

You never really know what to say. You don't actually do this often- this is only the second time you've ever hooked up with anyone like this, and it's just as weird as the first time.

"Thank you, by the way." He offers, taking the challenge away from you as he puts the tied up condom in the tissue to discard it at home later. "Let me drive a bit closer to the building, just so you don't get too wet." He says, pulling his seat back into proper position before he starts the car.

Such a gentleman- You're a little disappointed. But only mildly so. Will you even stay in his mind?

Probably not.

You're way too young for a man like him, who most likely wants a proper woman in his life instead of a.. instead of you. You're not even sure where you are at in life- neither a woman nor a girl, somewhere in between, floating, unsure, neither and both. You know however for a fact that you'll remember him- probably for quite a while, before the memory will fade into nothing but a glimpse.

"There we go." Jungkook says, stopping the car very much in front of your apartment building, sideways so that you can run right into the main hall. "Please remember to text Yoongi, okay?" He reminds you. "He might be worried otherwise." He smiles kindly, and you nod, a bit forced, grabbing your light coat and your handbag. "And.. I enjoyed it. Very much so." He makes sure to tell you, making you nod a bit shy.

"I.. uhm, I'm glad." You nod, awkwardly, causing him to chuckle.

"Now go hurry inside before the rain starts again." He urges, making you nod dumbly once more before you open the car door, running inside the apartment building after closing the door.

And he drives off, back home, where nothing waits for him but the humming fridge and a cold, empty bed.

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Daehyun can be a little spoiled, but other than that, he's a well behaved kid for his age.

He loves staying at your place, though his questions on when you'll be getting another dog after your first passed away a year ago are sometimes a bit stinging to your heart. He's a child, obviously- he doesn't understand the hurt that can settle in your soul after losing such an important piece of your life, so you can't blame him for moving on a lot quicker than you.

He's too young to understand that yet.

"Uncle Yoongi has a cat now!" Daehyun tells you as he builds the lego set with you, his small hands having some difficulty here and there, but he's a quick learner, and a good improviser. "But he said I can't play with her, because she's a girl-cat, and girl-cats don't like playing." He explains, pouting a bit as he uses all his strength to pull two pieces apart again.

"Well, I think she's just be a little nervous still." You reassure the boy. "You know, she just moved into a new home. Things might be a little scary to her." You explain, and Daehyun nods.

"I only pet her a bit." Daehyun tells you. "Appa said we're gonna get a dog soon though!" He says with excitement, making you smile.

"That's nice." You agree, helping him pull some bricks apart. You like having the little boy over at your place- it makes you feel both like a grown person, and also like a child at the same time. Daehyun doesn't judge your vast collections of stuffed animals and lego sets- he only sees you as the nice aunt, a big sister, a friend of his dad where he stays over at often whenever work gets in the way and takes away most of Taehyung's attention. Just like this weekend- Taehyung having needed someone to look after the boy, Dae's mother constantly equally without any time. You're not sure how long that marriage is gonna last with her refusing to step back at least a little to properly take care of her own child, and with Taehyung's growing frustration over the situation.

You hope the poor boy won't get caught up in the crossfire. That would just be awful.

Hours later, all the toys put away, your doorbell rings, giving you the clue that someone must be now here to pick the young boy up. Probably either Jimin or Yoongi- but when you open the door, it's neither of them, but a casually dressed Jungkook, hands in his slacks as your gaze gets caught on the slightly unbuttered shirt that's tucked into the pants, LY-labeled belt buckle accentuating his rather slim waist.

What the fuck.

"Oh- uh, come inside." You offer, stepping aside to let him in, Daehyun quickly running up to Jungkook, who mirrors the excitement of the young boy as he squats down to hug him. You let them both have their moment, instead walking around to collect all of Dae's things, checking twice to make sure he didn't forget anything, as you text Taehyung to make sure the man is really supposed to take the boy with him.

He is, which makes you a bit upset. Taehyung could've told you before.

When you walk back inside the living room area, Dae is currently busy showing Jungkook a stuffed animal- a gift from Jimin a year ago, modeled after your dog as a keepsake. "He was suuuper big, and really nice!" Dae beams up at the man. "He always ate ice cubes, but-" the small boy inspects the stuffed animal a little, lips pouting. "-Noona said he was really old, so he went to sleep." He offers, and Jungkook seems to realize what the stuffed toy might actually be.

"Let's put him back on the table then, yeah?" He offers, a hand with faint ink taking the toy from the smaller hands of the boy to place it back next to the picture frame of your dog and the collar on the tiny table near the door where he used to sleep. "So he can sleep well." He explains, making Dae nod. When you make your presence finally known, Jungkook removes the hand, heavy watch on his wrist faintly hitting the edge of the table for a second, as he watches how you help the small boy into his jacket.

You're a little confusing.

"Alright." You say after successfully getting Daehyun to put on his shoes. "Theres- uhm, there's a, wait, I'll show you.." You say, moving to pull a little folder out of one of the bags packed. "This one, please make sure Taehyung sees this. It's Daehyun's homework, and he really needs to do them this time." You emphasize. "Just make sure he actually looks inside at least once.." You sigh, putting the bright red folder back into the bag.

"I'll make sure." Jungkook accepts, taking the bag from you. "Anything else?" he wonders, and you refuse any eye contact, instead shaking your head to hug Daehyun goodbye as you bring him and Jungkook to your front door.

"Noona, you gotta hug Jungkookie too!" Dae says, surprising you with his lack of formality when addressing his father's friend- but you don't question it.

And admittedly, Jungkook is fairly surprised when you do in fact reach out to hug him goodbye, though very formal. It's still.. oddly nice, you don't seem to wear perfume but rather rely on your scented bodywash, which smells very good to him. This is weird. Why is he getting such feelings of comfort for a simple hug with nothing attached to it?

And why is he kind of disappointed when it ends far too quickly?

But it gets worse in the car, because Daehyun has clearly gotten the wrong message entirely. "Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." He says from the backseat where Jungkook has placed the booster seat he's gotten from Taehyung in cases like these where he has to pick up the young boy. "And appa said you don't have a girlfriend." He says, making Jungkook nod and hum a reply. "Noona is really pretty." He giggles. Jungkook cant help but chuckle along.

"She is." He agrees, because he won't lie about that. You are very pretty in his opinion, though he can only really judge you mostly by looks alone. "Did you have fun? I heard you were there the whole weekend." He tries to steer the conversation away, but the young boy clearly doesn't get the message.

"Noona can cook really well!" He praises. "She always makes me my favorite, and then we watch tv in our 'jamas." He says, and Jungkook has to imagine you both probably bundled up in blankets on the small couch you have, watching kid's shows until the poor boy falls asleep.

Domestic. Do you like children? Want your own in the future, maybe?

"Jungkookie?" Dae asks, and Jungkook hums a reply, telling the kid he's listening. "Do you like Noona?" He wonders.

"I don't know her that much, dae. But she seems nice." He offers instead, trying to evade the interrogation of the small boy.

"Do you like drinking?" Dae wonders. "Like, the stuff appa says I can't have?" He asks, and Jungkook grows a bit weary. Why exactly would the young boy ask something like that?

"Sometimes. Why do you ask?" He asks the boy, who seems to deflate now.

"Then you can't be friends with Noona." He complains.

"Why not?" Jungkook wonders.

"Because, the guy noona liked for a while always got mean when he was drinking that stuff." Dae complains, looking out the window. "I was never allowed to play at noona's house when he was there. He really liked that stuff that smells bad, but it made noona upset." He says.

Jungkook tenses up a bit. "Was he ever-, how was he mean to you?" Jungkook wonders.

"He always told noona to do things for him, and never let her play with me." He huffs. "And Yogi didn't like him too, because he always had to stay in his bed." He complains. Jungkook assumes the boy is probably talking about the dog.

Jungkook doesn't know how to ask what he wants to ask. It doesn't concern him at all- after all, it seems like you're no longer together with that guy, so he shouldn't pry. But something makes him worry- deep down, he's awfully wary, since he now realizes you did indeed not even touch any alcohol at the party at all- the drink Taehyung had seen you hold non-alcoholic. How bad must the relationship have been? You might not have a fear of men, but you're clearly affected by the past, it seems like.

"Did.." no. He shouldn't be asking that. It's none of his business.

"Do you get mean too when you drink?" Dae wants to know. "Appa only gets really sleepy." He giggles. Jungkook laughs along. Taehyung truly does only get horribly tired whenever he drinks- and he knows for a fact that he never gets drunk when he has to take care of the boy alone, so he's not at all alarmed by those words.

"No, I don't get mean." Jungkook answers. "I don't really drink a lot of it, so it only makes me feel a bit silly." He offers as an explanation, and Dae nods.

"Then, maybe Noona won't mind." He says, causing Jungkook to chuckle, shaking his head.

"Why do you want Noona to like me so much?" He wonders, and at that, Taehyung's son becomes excited.

"Because, then my favorite people like each other!" He exclaims. "And that's really cool. Then we can have sleepovers together, and you can help me get a new dog for noona!" He says. "She's really sad that Yogi sleeps now. I think she's lonely." He whines.

"We can have sleepovers anyways, dae." He laughs.

"But, appa told eomma, that you need someone you like." He huffs. Jungkook reminds himself to scold his friend at a later date. "Because you're not happy now, and you're lonely. And noona's lonely too." He offers.

Luckily, Jungkook escapes any further questioning as he finally reaches Taehyung's apartment, ready to drop the young boy off.

The whole conversation not leaving him at all the entire rest of the day, as he realizes he forgot to show Taehyung the folder.

Crap. This is your fault.

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It's been weeks- and apart from rubbing one out to the remaining memories of you in his car, he's not really thought much about you at all.

He's seen you on occasion here and there at the grocery store or a coffee shop, which made him realize that you've always been right under his nose but he just never knew who you were, but you two don't really have had any actual conversations anymore.

There's no reason for it.

He now knows that you're actually the part-time nanny Taehyung used to have a few years back, when you apparently had just been fighting to find a new job to keep your apartment and not get kicked out for not being able to pay rent. Back then, Taehyung and his wife had been living separated for a bit after a pretty bad fight- so the father had needed someone to take some weight off his shoulders, and help with the small child who couldn't even talk yet. You helped raise Daehyun basically, more or less- and, according to Taehyung, it shows.

The young boy has a strong sense of justice, and shares everything he has happily- something that he's learned from you. It makes some odd things make sense now to Jungkook as well- how Dae has some habits that seem very unique, but also too specific to have been developing all on their own. The child holds the front of his shirt a lot- something Jungkook noticed you do in a similar way as well, whenever you think of something.

Today, it's Daehyun's birthday. And Jungkook is sure, that the young boy probably demanded that both jungkook and you had to be there.

And he's right.

The minute he enters Taehyung's penthouse, he spots you sitting on the floor with the child, who's currently trying to read his own birthday card to you, before he spots him in the doorway. You look pretty, yet again. No makeup it seems like, and he can't say that you need it. You obviously don't, eyes still sparkling dangerously, smile still as lethal as ever as you wave a little bit before getting up.

You're dressed comfortably. He likes the sight of it- the casual dress you wear not too short to be scandalous, but short enough to tease him with the skin of your legs, hidden beneath a sheer pantyhose. Or?

No. There's an upper hem of lace- those are just stockings.

"Jungkookie, appa said you'll drive noona home today?" Dae says, now held up on Jungkook's hip, as he looks at Taehyung who laughs.

"Dae, I said I'm gonna ask him if he can drive her home!" He scolds gently. "Hey- sorry, he just runs with whatever he hears." The father tells him, and Jungkook just smiles, shaking his head.

"I can drive her home, no worries." He simply affirms. "It's no problem."

"Taehyung I told you I can go home by myself!" You whine, and Jungkook is intrigued by this seemingly new side of you. He knows you as a little shy, soft spoken, polite. You always greet him when you see him, and you've talked a little bit in his car weeks back- but then again, you only know each other on a very surface level.

He wonders what you're really like.

"And I said you're not driving alone when you're sick." Taehyung threatens, dad-voice coming through as he attempts to push through your clearly stubborn behavior, and Jungkook can't help but watch intently as your eyes roll around, attitude clear as you don't take your friend seriously at all.

"Noona is gonna be a mommy!" Daehyun blurts out to Jungkook, and for a split second, his entire body freezes, blood cooling down to the negatives, bones filling with fear.

He wore a condom- but what if something happened? What if it leaked? Was that even possible? He's not against becoming a father, absolutely not- but he'd like to have a proper relationship for that, a stable one, not something like this.

"Daehyun!" You scold with red cheeks, and Taehyung runs a hand over his face. "Appa just asked me if I was, I'm not!" You whine embarrassed, sighing. "Oh god, guys, please! I'm an adult woman, I'm not sick, I can go home by myself." You complain, walking into the kitchen, presumably to escape the pressuring situation.

"She threw up earlier, that's why I asked her. Dae must've heard me." Taehyung says, after averting his son's attention back to the TV in the living room, where his favorite show plays. "She refuses to see a doctor for it. But you look like you've seen a ghost-" Taehyung teases, before his eyes sharpen. "���could it be that the mention of her becoming a mommy made you worry?" He pokes, and Jungkook furrows his brows, averts eye contact. "Holy shit, you two!?" He hisses, and Jungkook groans.

"Shut up, it was nothing." He simply says, while Taehyung's eyes widen in a scandalized manner.

"Nothing?! Jungkook, where is that nothing?" He argues, surprisingly sternly. "I'll drive her home."

"You're acting like I forced myself onto her-" Jungkook sighs, but Taehyung shakes his head. "Taehyung, you heard her. She's an adult woman, she can decide things herself." Jungkook defends you. "I'll drive her home, and I'll text you once she's dropped off." He says, before he walks into the kitchen where you're filling up a glass with water.

"Oh god that was embarrassing." You whine into your hands, before you shake your head. "He acts as if I'm dying any second whenever something's up." You mumble, drinking from your glass. He can see you're a bit less energetic- hand a bit shaky as you drink.

"He worries." Jungkook offers, leaning against the counter next to the fridge, across from you. "And you should go see a doctor if you don't feel well." He scolds, and yet again, you roll your eyes.

"And you should try and work on your facial expressions, mister." You huff. "I could see the panic a mile away when Dae said I'm pregnant." You bite, making him tilt his head a little "Either way, I'm fine. I can't afford to call in sick right now or my landlord will kick me out the minute my rent is late again." You laugh a little bitterly, finishing your water before you rinse the glass in the sink.

"Do you not get paid a regular salary each month?" He wonders. You shake your head.

"I do, but it's the monthly bonus that keeps me afloat." You explain. "And I only get that one if I'm not sick and bring appropriate numbers to the table." You sigh. "My landlord just searches for a reason to kick me out, I'm sure." You mumble as you dry your hands.

"How come?" Jungkook asks.

"I didn't want to go out with the guy." You shrug, not looking at him. "I like older men, but sixty? No thanks.." You huff, turning around to look at a smug looking Jungkook, his arms crossed.

"Would've never guessed." He tells you in a cocky manner, and you cross your arms to mirror his position in an exagerated manner.

"I would've probably let you screw me if you were younger too." You respond.

"Oh?" He raises his brows. This is oddly fun. "Were you that needy?" He teases, and suddenly, your eyes soften quite a bit, scaring him.

"No." You shake your head. "Guess you were just that charming." You shrug.

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"If your job pays that awful, why not change it?" Jungkook wonders as he maneuvers out the parking lot, leaving Taehyung's home behind after Daehyun had gone to bed.

You shrug.

"I'm lucky I got accepted in this one." You say. You're tired- it's obvious to him. "I dropped out of school too early. Now I'm facing the consequences- and honestly, it's not that bad either. I get by, and it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice." You offer.

"Do you not have any ambitions?" He asks, relaxed now that he knows you're not one to be overly sensitive when it comes to more personal topics like that. You don't try to read between the lines where there's most of the time nothing at all to find.

"Its not like I don't have any ambitions." You respond, neither denying nor confirming. "It's more that I realized some of those ambitions were.. unrealistic. So I instead pursued what was." You shrug. "Nothing too deep. It's.. part of growing up, I guess." You explain.

Growing up. Talking to you, right now, truly does remind him of that. Almost two hands between you both in years, but you're awfully matured in the way you think at its core. You just have a softer shell around it, your opinions can still move, your mind still has some sort of wiggle room.

His doesn't. He makes decisions and sticks by them, most of the time. He doesn't like change, he enjoys his routine, keeps everything in order most of the time- until now.

Because you're definitely a decision he keeps bending around.

"How much is your rent?" Jungkook asks, and you look at him from where you're leaning against the car's window, an amused expression on your face.

"Why? You wanna be my sugar-daddy?" You joke, and he shrugs, much to your surprise.

"I don't care what you call it." He simply says. "But if it get's you to take some time and take care of your health, I can take care of a month's rent." He offers.

"I don't like that." You respond.

"I know." He laughs. "I've come to learn that you don't like accepting help. But it's something you can't avoid at times." He explains to you. "I'm just offering help. Whether or not you take it, is up to you." He shrugs.

"Why would you do that?" You wonder, suspicious.

"Because Taehyung worries about you. And Daehyun would be terribly upset if something was to happen to you." He admits. "I don't know you well enough to say that I'm doing this for you- so I'll be honest. I do this mostly for them." He says.

You nod. You like this- that he's actually telling the truth, instead of trying to woo you into something.

"Alright." You sigh, tired. "I'll.. text you?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I have your number from Taehyung already." He chuckles. "I just didn't have a reason to reach out yet." He admits.

You just nod, eyes falling shut for longer he notices.

You must be working hard if you're this exhausted. He really hopes you'll take care of yourself after he helps you sort everything out.

Hopefully his help is enough.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He's lost control over the situation. How can this happen a second time?

He's been texting you these past few days, especially after you've finally took some time off of work to sort out your doctor's visits, having received some medication to finally help you resolve your issues.

He's not sure why he keeps coming back to you. And he's especially not sure how the hell he managed to get himself caught up in a situation like this twice, especially after Taehyung had been clearly upset about the first time.

There's something about you he can't really pin-point. It's both scary, and exciting.

You're kneeling on a small heart-shaped pillow from your small couch, hands occupied and slicked up with your own spit as you caress his length, head of it warm inside your mouth as you lick and suck. You've offered, and he assumed it to be a joke- but the moment you got down between his legs, all of his usual control over things went out the window. He might appear to be the one in charge, right in this moment, but he's truly at your mercy.

It makes him anxious. This shouldn't be happening.

But he can't deny the appeal of you taking care of him so well- it feels scarily intimate to have you between his legs like this, eyes closed as you seem to enjoy yourself, mostly due to his own hand reaching out to run his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face and taking the chance to offer some form of affection before he collects your hair in his fist for a second, long sigh escaping him as he feels the tip of your tongue push against the head of his cock, dipping into the small point, before you adjust your legs, letting go of him for just a second to lick from the base to the very tip once more.

You're a succubus, hidden behind a pretty face and sinful body.

He's not sure what your motivation is, hasn't really figured it out for the first time either. There's this little devil on his shoulder constantly urging him to accept your advances and let himself go, but the angel is louder, and keeps on feeding him doubts about the whole thing. He's consumed by his work, he doesn't have time for you, he can't offer you what you might want from a relationship. He doesn't even know if he himself is ready for something like that- he knows he should be, considering how long ago his divorce had been finished, but it's still odd to think about it. He's scarred by what went down, and doesn't want to go through this again.

He can handle being hated by one person he used to love. He wouldn't be able to have two doing the same.

It made him wonder if he's even someone worthy of having a relationship. Does he have enough to offer you that's not physical or monetary? No. He doesn't have time, he's awkward as hell, he doesn't like parties and rather enjoys laid back vacations somewhere no one knows him- if he even takes one at all. He wants a quiet life-

A quiet life?

'it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice.'

Maybe it's your hands on his cock, the back of your tongue over his tip, or the way your fingers suddenly move to massage his balls just right- but he's facing this horribly ironic moment of both pleasure and realization at the same time as his cum shoots into your mouth, lips sealed over the head to suck him for all he's got. His hand keeps pushing your head, fingers digging into your hair, and you moan quietly at the faint sting of it.

His head rests back on your couch. His hand loosens, letting you go, while his eyes stay closed, breath deep and uneven as he tries to calm himself. He doesn't even realize how you tuck him back into his underwear as he softens, though you leave the fly and belt untouched, instead moving to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

You wait. For what? You're not sure.

"I.." He starts, taking in a deep breath, a hand through his hair trying to sort him out again. "..you.."

"Was it good?" You wonder almost innocently, watching him amused.

He nods. "Very." He simply answers, brain dumb. He hates this.

"Nice." You smile, before you move to put the little pillow back on the couch. "Do you wanna.. leave right now? Or stay for coffee?" You wonder, treating this all way more casual than he is. He's not sure what to do. But he knows you need to talk about this.

"Can you come here for a second?" He asks, and you nod, putting down the mug you got out of the pantry, making your way over to him to sit on the couch next to him. "I hope you know this isn't.. needed. I honestly just wanted to help you out with rent." He urges, and you nod.

"I know." You say, making him feel a bit lighter. "Was that.. not something you wanted?" You worry, but he shakes his head.

"I'm.. I'll have to be honest here." He sighs, having closed his pants and adjusted himself prior already, not leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. He can't look at you- not if he wants to be honest and straight forward. "I'm not sure." He offers. "I think it's clear that there's an attraction going on- but I don't know how far this can go."

"I'm not in love with you or anything." You defend yourself. "Neither do I have a crush. I just like you." You shrug.

"That's good." He nods to himself. "It's good that you know that. That you... can distinguish it."

"I think your problem might have something to do with.. my age?" You wonder, and Jungkook turns his head towards you, eyes staying on your knees however. "Yoongi mentioned something once. That he has a friend who has some sort of mid-life crisis right now and thinks he's too old for everything." You giggle.

"And how do you know that would be me?" He calls you out a little offended.

"Because it just fits." You laugh. "You play around with Dae all the time, but the second someone watches you, you become all awkward. It's kinda sad." You admit.

"How so?" He wants to know.

"Because it's dumb." You say, leaning back against your couch.

"Maybe for you. But when you're my age-" He starts, and you suddenly start to laugh, cutting him off.

"See! That's how I know you're the one with the crisis!" You joke, hand hitting his shoulder playfully, and without any intention to hurt. "I'm not a kid. I can make my decisions just fine." You say.

"And your decision is?" He wonders, now looking at you.

"That I want to get to know you." You tell him. "I want to.. see where it goes." You offer.

"What if it goes nowhere?" He argues. "I can't promise you some fairytale love-story." He denies. "I'm divorced, I want children at some point, I don't like parties, I work long hours-"

"But that's stuff that we can work out, no?" You wonder. "Time is what you're scared of, right? Then how about this-" You say, suddenly sitting on your knees, body facing his. "Every day you're not trying is a day you could be spending in a more productive way. For example, by getting to know me. Trying out if your idea of a relationship aligns with mine, if your work schedule is too packed, all of that." You offer. "Right now, we could already be talking about more interesting things than the 'what-if'. Or, in your big-man-terms:" You joke, leaning closer to him. "You're wasting time."

"Have you ever considered a career in communication-training?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're awfully great at this." He praises, making you giggle.

"Nah, I like my normal nine-to-five." You say. "Even if it barely pays enough."

"Well I heard someone's taking care of rent at the moment." he offers, reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear.

"Well, only for a month, so that's a bummer." You shrug, leaning into his hand now holding your cheek.

"..I'm not used to being in a relationship." He sighs.

"We can start just being friends." You respond.

"I think we're a little past the general boundaries of friendship." He chuckles.

"Then friends who occasionally have sex." You roll your eyes.

"That's not very romantic." He argues.

"You can fuck me with music in the background?" You joke, and he shakes his head, laughing.

You're truly far more than he thought you are, and he's not sure if he's worth your time. But he wants to be. Looking at you, right now, he wants to be worth it. He wants to put the effort into it, even if it doesn't work out in the end. He wants to try- so that even if you don't fit, you at least had some good memories together that were worth the time spent.

He wants to try.

Even if it's a mistake.

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

People have been asking for a Chang timeline post! Chang not only represents a turning point in the politics of the Tintin series, he also represents a sense of chronology in the otherwise floating timeline of the canon. While Tintin almost never discusses his past, Chang is a key part of his personal story in Tintin in Tibet.

I imagine him and Tintin being around the same age, with Chang being a few months younger.

Child - Chang had a happy early childhood being raised by his father and grandparents. He never mentions his mother when recounting his backstory to Tintin, so my main guesses are she either passed away or his parents separated before Chang was old enough to remember her. His father and grandparents taught him how to cook from an early age, and taught him the importance of solidarity and community, lessons Chang will hold onto the rest of his life.

Early canon - Chang is orphaned. This sudden loss causes him to act out. He turns to picking pockets and causing general mischief until an orphanage takes him in. Chang learns a lot of skills just to survive - he’s stealthy, he’s street smart and pretty decent at climbing. His experiences as a street kid taught him to be wary of authority.

The orphanage provides a brief period of stability until it is swept away in a flood. Until this point, Chang has felt pretty powerless in his life so just goes with the flow, so when Tintin drags him out of a river he doesn’t think twice about going along with him to break up a drug ring in The Blue Lotus. Going on this adventure with Tintin imbues him with a sense of empowerment and purpose he never felt before.

Student - The Wangs adopt him pretty quickly after he busts the drug ring with Tintin. It’s a sudden change he struggles to adapt to, with the Wangs being wealthy academics and Chang coming from a working class background there’s a significant culture clash.

Tintin leaves just as quickly and rarely contacts Chang, even as his journalism career takes off, leaving Chang lonely and heartbroken. Chang tries to send him letters but doesn’t know that Tintin moved out of Labrador Road.

Having missed out on education for a bit Chang struggles with school. He feels unworthy of the opportunities the Wangs try to provide him with and a part of him feels they only adopted him because they were dazzled by him taking down that drug ring, an achievement he increasingly feels he will never live up to again. He struggles with mental health issues, but finds solace in photography, his portfolio getting him a place at university despite his bad grades.

Young adult - In an attempt to try and help Chang’s mental wellbeing the Wangs decide to send Chang off to visit his uncles before he starts university, only for Chang to nearly perish in a plane crash in Tibet. Ironically, it’s this near death experience that shakes him out of it. Chang has a renewed enthusiasm for life, taking to travelling, dance and photography. Didi trains him in some basic martial arts so Chang can fend for himself.

Tintin makes an effort to stay in touch after having nearly lost Chang. The two repair their friendship, and Tintin has him stay at Marlinspike when Chang studies in Belgium for his second year of university. By the time Chang comes around, he’s had a growth spurt and has been working out - Chang is pretty haunted by his skeletal state from his near death experience in Tibet, so has been making an effort to recover.

After helping Tintin with a case, Tintin gets him a job at his paper as his photographer. Being Chinese he faces challenges in the workplace, and he uses his charm to be as personable as possible. Unlike Tintin, he frequents quite a few staff parties, and ends up pretty popular!

A couple of years later, Chang tries to unionise the staff at the paper. He and Tintin are outed as a couple and the two of them are fired.

Middle aged - After fighting fascists with the Marlinspike team during WW2 Chang and Tintin settle down in Belgium, with Chang scraping out some freelance photography work and a part time job at a portraiture studio. War in China causes them to lose contact with his adopted family. 

While Tintin grows more cynical, Chang accepts the chaos of the world and mellows out a lot. He tries to be a supportive partner and makes extra effort to stay in touch with his uncles and cousins.

Elderly - Chang uses his skills in photojournalism when he gets involved in political activism. He and Tintin are finally able to reunite with Didi and his children in the 70s.

[hunny-beann]

Desiderium I

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

-> Part II

Note: This fic absolutely breaks cannon in multiple ways, but I felt the urge to write this and created it thus lol, so I hope you enjoy regardless (and for my own sanity, we'll just call this an avenger!Loki au).

Synopsis:

Loki is plagued by a dream thrust upon him as punishment during his imprisonment, and finds that even once he regains his freedom, he still can't move past the vision of the life he could have had with you. And when those around him struggle to understand his sorrows, he decides to show them firsthand what he endured while asleep that night, and all that he lost both by waking up, and by making all of the wrong choices for far too long.

Oh, but it's never truly over, is it?

And your sudden reappearance proves that.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 5,057

"Does he ever stop sulking?"

Tony muttered under his breath after sparing a quick glance toward the aesir God of Mischief that sat in the corner of the room, staring into a cloud of green created by his own hand with a type of longing he had worn almost constantly for months now.

At first, many had thought his sullen nature to be a result of his capture and subsequent imprisonment, but even now that he was far more free to roam and do what he pleased (within reason), his somber attitude still had yet to let up.

In fact, some would even swear that it had gotten worse.

The God of Thunder included, and also in particular.

From the beginning, Thor had perhaps been the biggest defender of his younger brother, and of course he had, how could he not be?

But even still, when it came to the questioning of Loki's less than enthusiastic (and at times, borderline concerning) behavior, Thor somehow managed to become even more defensive of his confusing family member and all of the quirks that he seemed to have.

This occasion included.

He turned toward Anthony Edward Stark with a slight frown, a sigh that seemed reserved purely for situations concerning Loki passing his lips,

"All of this has been rather... difficult for him. There is much that he misses about our realm, and even more that he has lost."

Tony rose a brow at that, fighting back a groan at the seemingly constant dramatics of the "Odinson" siblings.

Who would have thought that two gods could be so annoyingly theatrical?

"A lot of people have lost a lot of things, Point Break. Some of them at his hand, in case you need a reminder."

Tony muttered, struggling to find sympathy for the green themed deity sitting across the room, a look of deep longing and sorrow in his gaze as he continued staring into the cloud of his own creation.

Thor sighed again.

"I do not, Stark, nor does my brother. He had a multitude of things revealed to him in dreams delivered by the gods whilst locked away. He is... Not the same."

Tony sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to return his focus toward what he'd been doing before he'd made the mistake of mentioning Loki to his older brother.

"Whatever you say, big guy. Just do me a favor though and ask him if he can practice his daily sulking rituals somewhere else. His whole 'woe is me' vibe makes it a little hard to focus."

Thor sighed again at his comrade's obvious lack of compassion toward his clearly suffering sibling, but he nodded nonetheless.

"I will see what I can do, Stark."

And with that, he was taking familiarly heavy steps toward Loki, each growing more hesitant than the last as he took in the full sight of him.

It was no wonder that Tony found his presence to be so distracting, because in truth, you could all but feel his angst rolling off of him in waves, strong and undeniably present in a manner that almost made the god himself shiver.

It was not easy for the god of mischief, what he was going through, but perhaps even Thor himself had managed to underestimate it.

Perhaps he should have been even more concerned than he already was.

"Loki."

He said stiffly upon his approach, watching as the god in question briefly glanced in his direction in acknowledgement before returning his gaze back to his seidr.

"I sympathize greatly with your sorrows, and I wish truly that I could do away with them for you, but a request has been made for you to better contain your bereavements, if possible, and I think it would be best for you to try."

Thor said calmly, though he could see as plain as day that his words had done no good, a fact made evident by the way that his brother turned to look at him, as if both wounded and infuriated at the very same time.

What a familiar look that was for the mischief god to wear these days.

He stood, green cloud disappearing as he did so, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"Do you believe somehow that I have not already done all that I can to contain my grief, you blithering fool?"

He all but hissed, anger controlling his words but a deep and pervasive sadness evident in his eyes, allowing the god of thunder to see far beyond the ruse his sibling was attempting to put up.

Loki was hurting, perhaps beyond anything that he had endured before, and Thor was unsure if that could have been made any more clear.

The god of mischief took a step closer, slowly, threateningly, as if he might frighten the being standing before him, the only one present that had ever truly seen the good in him, the angel before the fall.

A trickster to be sure, but the villain that he so desperately tried to make himself out to be? Thor could not see such a thing, not in the eyes of one he had grown up alongside of.

Not in his brother, regardless of blood.

Regardless of what was said or done.

"You haven't the slightest clue what I have endured, and yet you have the gall to request that I reign in my pain, as if it is not all that has been left of me? All that has not been so crudely taken?"

He snarled, coming closer, ignoring the heavy gaze of Anthony Stark as it landed upon him, and choosing to pay no mind to the fact that he had undoubtedly called the others in, a fact made clear by the large number of footfalls that grew nearer and nearer by the second.

Maybe Tony was simply a fool made cautious by what he had seen the god do in the past, or maybe he just wished to not be the only audience for this particular spat.

Either way, it mattered not to Loki.

The god in question was far too tired, far too angry, and far too confused to let such a disrespect as this pass.

If they did not understand, then he would make them, and maybe then they could comprehend the realness, the immense depth and crushing weight of his pain.

The burden he bore.

The reaping of what he had sowed long ago, without even realizing it.

The universe had never been fair, not to him, and it was apparent now that such a truth had persevered from the very start.

Back before his title had meant more than a whisper to him, before he had felt the need to prove he was more.

When there had been so much more kindness in his heart and light in his life.

When there had been hope,

When there had been you.

Thor put his hands up defensively, though how secure he truly felt in spite of this almost entirely symbolic and pleading gesture was made clear by his tone, which was pitying in every sense of the word.

"Calm down, brother, I meant no disrespect. I simply feel a deep worry for you, I do not want to watch you suffer any longer. It is a heavy weight upon me to know that you are so burdened."

He said appealingly, eyes full of a type of plea and concern that, once upon a time, might have caused the god of mischief to think for a moment, and perhaps even halt his actions altogether.

But now was not then, and after all that he had seen, all that was now and could have been, he found that his brother's words only served to make him angrier.

"You feel a heavy weight, do you?"

He said darkly, stalking ever forward, even as Thor backed away slowly with each step, not wishing to see his family member trapped in a cage once again as a result of some petty fight.

There was rage in Loki's eyes now, though it did nothing to cancel out the sadness there.

It was clear what was driving him, but even more evident was how upset the god was about that fact.

He did not like being so controlled by his emotions, resented the way that everyone could tell how he was feeling in spite of how hard he tried to hide it.

He had done his best to conceal his sorrows and this was what he had gotten? A request for more, as if he would not have hidden them away entirely in favor of allowing those who were once his enemies to see his weaknesses? The way that truth had changed him?

It infuriated him to no end.

"Can you even begin to imagine then,"

He started, voice low, but just loud enough so that every avenger who had now entered the room could hear it from where they stood together in silence, watching as Loki stalked ever closer to his brother, hands still clenched at his sides, jaw unfathomably tense, and muscles twitching with a quiet kind of rage.

"What I am feeling?"

He finished viciously.

Thor frowned, voice still full of pity and something akin to longing as he replied, tone still entirely bereft of fear,

"I know only what you have told me, dear brother."

He said, watching as Loki all but scoffed at his words,

"So in that way, yes, I suppose I am capable of imagining what you must feel."

The god of mischief laughed in response to this, a humorless and cold sound that was choked by some long abided pain, some endless suffering that only a god could understand, and that no mere mortal could ever endure and survive.

"I think not."

He snapped angrily, watching as Thor's brow creased in response, not understanding what about his reply had been so terribly wrong that it had brought about such a strong reaction from his sibling.

Loki continued,

"I think that if you could even begin to comprehend what I have seen, what I have lost, you would never even think to make an attempt at consoling or correcting me, nor could you ever deign to imagine believing that the small amounts of my grief witnessed through my behavior could be decreased any further. If you could truly understand, you would know the weight that I carry, and you would see that it could never be lessened, because there is truly no greater grief than that which I am suffering from!"

Thor stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before finally he spoke up once more, voice slightly smaller, though still not lacking in compassion or empathy.

"Brother, I beg you to help me understand better so I may communicate this suffering of yours to those around us who do not know you as well as I. We are guests here on Midgard, and I cannot allow for you to push this pain of yours onto our hosts so endlessly without solution or a shared understanding in mind. How can you expect anyone to have faith or sympathy for you if you will not tell us what has happened?"

Thor's pleas caused yet another round of laughter to burst forth from the god of mischief, though this one was less pained and a bit more angry, a twinge of eagerness to it that did not spell out anything good, not for Thor nor any of the unwelcome audience present within the room alongside them.

"You wish for me to let them see? For me to grant you understanding?"

Loki hissed out, a familiar and volatile energy filling the room as he began to use his seidr to do just that.

"Loki-"

Thor warned, moving to take a step forward when suddenly, the entire room seemed to disappear beneath his feet, and without warning, he found himself in a place entirely unfamiliar to him, standing amongst his peers in a small crowd that occupied some unseen corner of whatever space this was.

He watched as Tony turned to look at him, frustration and confusion etched into his features and mouth opening to speak just as a familiar voice cut through the silence.

It was Loki, but not the one that those watching had come to know.

No, this was a Loki long forgotten by time and entirely unknown by the avengers present to witness this dream that the god of mischief had once so vaguely described to his brother while in the thralls of his pain.

This was the vision that the gods had shown to the adopted son of Odin during his imprisonment within the Avenger's tower months prior.

This was where his sadness, his grief, and his longing had stemmed from.

And it was clear, as they all watched on, why that may have been.

It was beautiful here, wherever here was.

The sun shone through every window, and this place, clearly a home, was adorned with stunning textiles and masonry, each detail obviously considered and brought to life with such care and intention that it could bring one to tears if they focused on it long enough.

Thankfully for the onlookers though, this would not be necessary, because the Loki in question who stood before them made for quite a distracting sight.

He looked younger here somehow, features untouched by some pervasive strain or anger that had long since gotten to the man that was so well known to them now.

His expression was peaceful, happy, so devoid of the angst or maliciousness that many were used to seeing.

This version of Loki, whoever he was, and whenever he had existed, was one that did not yet know the things that he did now, one that had found something that his truest self had not.

Happiness.

And it was clear, as this version of the god of mischief spoke, where that came from.

"Dearest Starlight, have you the faintest idea of how much I've missed you?"

He muttered into the hair of the woman standing before him, one arm wrapped around her while the other cupped the back of her head gently, lovingly, and with such fondness that it almost hurt to watch

This was a man overcome with, and undoubtedly changed by love.

They could see it in his eyes and the way that they lit up when the woman, whoever she was, moved away slightly to look up at him, and in the way that he pressed his forehead to hers with such love and clearly intentional gentleness.

He adored this person standing before him, and judging by the tears brimming in Thor's blue eyes, she was far more than a simple dream, or someone made up by the mind to have and to hold.

No, this was someone that they had known, perhaps long ago, perhaps yesterday, for the timing itself mattered ever so little.

What mattered instead, was that this individual, whoever she was, meant the world and more to the very person that the onlooking crowd had once believed to be devoid of the organ capable of love and affection.

She was important, and she was special, and above all else, she was seemingly a vast source of grief for the two son's of Odin, though one in particular far more than the other, the latter of which stood amongst them with a sadness that was almost assuredly not for himself evident within his gaze.

Thor may have known this girl, whoever she may be or have been, but his tears were not for his own loss of her, no, they were instead for Loki's. He watched the two of them with such rapt and sad fondness that it was all but impossible to deny that fact.

He adored what the two of them shared, and mourned its absence.

And in truth, the unwelcome onlookers could not help but feel similarly.

This woman was beautiful to be sure, with shining hair and twinkling eyes, and a gentle touch that she laid upon the deity standing before her with such care and devotion.

She smiled up at him lovingly, mouth still curved upward even as she spoke, her reply teasing, but far from mockery, mischievous in a way that was befitting of any love of Loki Laufeyson.

"Just me?"

She asked amusedly, carting her fingers through the god's soft black locks and watching with gentle laughter as he simply rolled his eyes in response before he leaned down to kiss her sweetly without a single word, the arm that was still wrapped around her waist tugging her closer before he finally pulled away a few seconds later, joy obvious within his expression, in spite of her ardent teasing.

"Do not ask me such foolish questions, my dear, or I may just be required to seal your lips against mine for all eternity to keep you quiet."

He murmured with his forehead pressed against hers, his nose brushing against her cheek for a few moments until he pulled back with a sigh,

"I suppose I should change before I make myself at home again, hmm?"

He asked with mock exasperation, tucking a few strands of the woman's hair behind her ear as she laughed in reply, nodding almost immediately.

"That would most certainly make me a happy wife, indeed."

She said, pulling further away from him before walking over to the kitchen area and removing something from the oven,

"Now hurry up and change before dinner gets too cold, foolish prince, or you may just find Thor helping himself to your portion again."

Loki gave an amused glare in response to this, but said nothing more, wandering swiftly down a long and dark hallway until he faded from view entirely.

After this, there was silence for a minute or two, a peaceful and joyous one that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of the woman's gentle humming, or one of a few a small noises from further down the hall, none of which seemed important enough to capture the woman in question's attention.

That being said, as Loki returned, something else did, though it notably grabbed hold of that of the audience as well, who stared on together in shock, though Thor was clearly the most baffled of them all.

For there was Loki Laufeyson, adopted son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, and god of mischief, with a child on his hip, one with hair the very color of his, and eyes that were an exact copy of his own.

The woman standing in the kitchen crossed her arms upon her husband's entrance into the room, raising a brow at him as she sighed and approached the two beings who had just graced her with their presence.

"And what business do you believe our daughter has with being up so late, Mr. Laufeyson?"

She questioned teasingly as she pressed a gentle kiss to the head of the little girl who was being held so affectionately within her father's arms, a sweet burble of laughter escaping her as the woman's lips tickled her skin.

The audience watched on in utter shock as Loki smiled softly at the sight, his shoulders shrugging slightly as he bounced the child, who appeared to be around a year old, upon his hip, arms keeping her steady with a well practiced and easy grace found only within a parent that had been present and involved enough to know their child like the back of their hand.

"I believe she has business with welcoming her dear father home regardless of the hour. Would you disagree, Mrs. Laufeyson?"

He murmured gently as he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against his wife's lips, smirking at the sight of her reddened cheeks as he pulled away.

The wife in question sputtered for a brief moment before finally responding, glaring slightly up at the god of mischief for his antics, though they were no doubt familiar to her by now, judging by the ring wrapped around her finger and the child she had so plainly bore that sat now upon her husband's hip.

"I suppose not."

She replied gently, watching as Loki placed the child into her high chair, offering a toy of his very own creation to distract her with as he approached his spouse with a rather eager grin.

"No?"

He asked softly as he moved to stand behind her, his hands finding her shoulders and massaging the tense muscles there gently, his smile only growing as she sighed at the feeling and leaned into him with a practiced ease borne clearly of a long nurtured trust.

"How kind of you to see things my way for once, dear wife."

He murmured against the shell of the woman's ear, sending a shiver down her spine even as she rolled her eyes in response to his overly teasing tone and his seemingly ceaseless need to make an attempt at pushing her buttons.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that, my prince."

She sighed out, still clearly pleased with the feeling of his hands rubbing practiced and efficient circles into her skin,

"I am simply allowing you this one small victory while you may still have it."

The god of mischief smirked upon hearing this, his brow raised and his voice low as he replied,

"Allowing me, hmm? What a benevolent ruler you are, starlight."

He all but purred out, and the woman nodded absently, still clearly wrapped up in the feeling of his hands on her body.

"Aren't I?"

She asked, a smile growing upon her face as she spoke,

"Allowing you to wake up our one year old daughter upon your return before you're forced to cease such childish behaviors once your son arrives in a few months time. How generous of me."

Loki hummed and replaced one of his hands that had been resting upon her shoulder with his chin, allowing his now free hand to travel down to her stomach, pressing against it and providing the opportunity for the onlookers to note for the very first time the way that it was rounded out slightly with child, yet another piece of evidence of the love that they shared.

A love that the Loki Laufeyson that they knew, the one that had been captured, imprisoned, and seemingly rehabilitated, had never known.

A love that he perhaps could have had, if only things had been different.

Slowly, faintly, at the sounds of softening laughter and contented discussions, the scene before everyone faded, and the harsh light of the tower persisted once more, blinding them all sharply in a way that the softness of the vision had not managed.

And there, before all of them, stood Loki, looking more than a little haggard with his hair out of place and his eyes brimming with tears.

It was Thor who spoke first.

"It was that which you saw, brother?"

He asked sympathetically, only for Loki to shake his head in response, tone far less angry and much more despondent as he spoke.

The sight of that vision, that memory of a dream delivered unto him one harsh evening to teach him some horrible lesson, had clearly hurt him far more than he wished to let on, and perhaps even more than he had thought it would.

"No."

He said,

"What I saw was far worse, I'm afraid."

Thor's eyebrows creased with both concern and confusion,

"Worse? Brother, I do not-"

"I had entire life with her, Thor."

Loki murmured gently, staring down at his own two shaking hands as if in disbelief that they belonged to him at all,

"I-I had thought truly that everything, all of this suffering and self-hatred had been the real dream all along, and that my time with her, beginning from back when we were all just children again, was reality."

He looked into his brother's eyes then, and allowed him to see the pain there, the sadness and longing for a life he had once believed himself to have lived, a life where he had chosen differently, and found better.

"I did everything the very same as in this lifetime, except instead of choosing power, or some poorly perceived form of acceptance at the hands of our father, I chose her every single time. I married her, brother, stood at the altar and watched her come to me, watched her be granted her rightful immortality at my side, built a house with her, for her, gave her a daughter, and a son, and many other children who I cannot bear to think about because I am in ruin over the fact that they were never real."

He paused, chest heaving, eyes never leaving those of his brother before finally, he continued,

"I know their names, Thor."

He choked out,

"The names of my children, every son and daughter born with some combination of my eyes and her smile, or her hair and my nose. I know their favorite foods, the toy they prefer over all of the rest, and the song that their mother would sing to put them to sleep the fastest."

His tears were beginning to run now, though if Loki noticed, he did not move to wipe them away or to hide them.

"I know everything about them, and yet they are not here, never were, and never will be, and it feels like I have lost all that I ever deigned to love. My wife, my children, a version of myself that I did not loathe, they are all lost to me, and I have died a thousand deaths for every waking moment spent without them by my side."

Thor's own eyes had grown teary now, and he stepped forward slowly, his arm outstretched, as if hoping to reach into his brother and take this pain away with his bare hands alone.

"Dear brother, forgive me."

He said softly, voice shaky in a way that was so very uncharacteristic of him,

"I did not know, I swear it."

Loki shook his head, some shadow of a smile, pained and without any semblance of joy finding his face,

"I know, Thor."

He said quietly,

"But do not waste your apologies on me. It is not your fault for not truly knowing, but mine for believing I could have her back again. She is gone, and I should have known that I could only ever have her in dreams."

Thor opened his mouth to speak, his expression flooded with sorrow, only to find that there was nothing that he could say.

The bridge to you was one that his brother had burned a long time ago, which had been lying in embers since.

Was he not right that you were largely gone from him? A memory of perhaps undeserved yet so very innocent love that he had shut out in order to keep moving forward until the gods had thrust what the two of you could have been upon him so cruelly?

It had been ages now, since Loki had seen or heard of you, and Thor was ashamed to admit that he too had locked you away in memory in favor of moving forward.

A childhood playmate, a most loyal friend far past adulthood, the once almost-lover of his mischievous younger brother, you were a great many things to him, and yet he could scarcely bear to think of you now.

Betrayal was what he had once thought of whenever you came to mind, but now, so many years later, he could see that you had never been the one to betray.

It had been him all along, him and Loki, albeit for two differing reasons.

Either way, the little witch they had once both known so fondly had been long dead to them for many moons now, until the very sight of you so happy, so alive, in spite of the fact that such a vision was a dream brought on by some vengeful deity, sent you careening back into their minds once more.

Where were you now? How had you fared without them, and possibly without your family as well? Were you even alive at all, after all of this time with only a witchling's feeble immortality to keep you alive rather than the godly kind that Loki had helped to bestow upon you within his dream?

Thor shook off these thoughts almost as quickly as they came, and watched on helplessly as Loki began to make his way toward the exit, eyes glued to the ground to avoid making eye contact with the small group of Avengers who had continued to watch on in surprise.

And perhaps, one of them may have piped up to say something, anything to provide comfort to the once so pesky god, had it not been for the sudden shift in the air, followed shortly thereafter by the very shredding of reality itself, as a tear opened up on the far wall, revealing a dark shimmering swirl of colors and lights that soon spat out a figure adorned in clothing that may have appeared foreign to any Midgardian, but was so very familiar to the one aesir god who stared on in utter shock.

Loki, on the other hand, seemed either entirely unaware of the strange circumstance occurring behind him, or uncaring of it, as he continued on his quest to leave the room entirely.

That is, until a voice so familiar that it all but snapped his heart in two called out to him.

"L-Loki?"

It asked weakly, strained and soft, but just barely loud enough to reach him where he stood.

The average man may have froze up entirely, disbelieving their own ears and blaming their minds for playing such cruel tricks on them, but Loki was no average man, and he did not believe his mind capable of making such a mistake.

He knew what he had heard.

He turned around instantly, already wide eyes growing wider when he found you on the floor there, an old cloak of his wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

"Starlight?"

He breathed out in utter disbelief, making his way over in just a few long and intentional strides before he all but collapsed to his knees in front of you.

[scarrletmoon]

About Powder Blue

This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.

If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!

I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.

I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.

I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.

Anyway.

I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.

The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.

That's not what happened.

The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.

Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild

(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).

Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.

At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.

It didn't work.

Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.

During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.

So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.

I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.

The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in. I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.

That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.

I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.

One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.

My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.

Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.

BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.

And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.

Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.

If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.

So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.

Love,

Scarr

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 8: "Planting a Seed of Thought"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: I basically wrote this long ass monster today and NEEDED to get it up. So I hope it is edited enough and none of the writing is too awkward. Normally I edit vastly more before I share but I was too excited. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites

Making your way down the dimly lit hallway, your eyes were focused on the door at the far end. 'Nelson & Murdock' was no longer a paper sign taped to the door with their name written in Sharpie, but a proper, professional sign adhered to the glass of it. 

After a lot of hard work and frustration over the past few months, Foggy and Matt’s law firm had really managed to take off. It had all been thanks to the pair of them–along with Karen and apparently the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen–taking down Wilson Fisk. You'd watched for months on the sidelines as they struggled and many times almost lost hope that they'd ever succeed with getting Fisk arrested. You'd even endured the time fairly recently where the firm, and Matt and Foggy’s friendship, had briefly broken up. 

Those few weeks had been a very difficult few weeks for all of you. Even Karen had gradually grown closer to you during that time. And both Foggy and Matt had fallen back on you for support when they didn't have each other. You'd done your best to split your free time between the pair of them, but you'd never gotten a straight answer as to what had happened. All you knew was that it must have been bad if Foggy had been willing to end the friendship you'd watch grow over the years. And all Matt would ever tell you was that it was his fault, whatever it was, and to not be mad at Foggy.

The whole thing had seemed strange to you, especially because Matt had just been in a car accident when everything had happened. Your heart had broken when he’d stopped by to see you shortly after; you hadn’t heard the news ahead of time and it was a shock to see him limp into your apartment. Though something had seemed off about his flippant explanation of what happened, especially considering he’d been sporting bruises and cuts more and more frequently this past year. He’d told you they were because he was blind and clumsy and had gotten into a lot of accidents, but you had a feeling that was bullshit even if you never pushed for answers. Because he’d certainly not had that many accidents at Columbia. 

Yet again it hurt you that it felt like Matt was hiding something from you, something you were sure he’d have told you about back when you’d both been in college. You felt like he was drifting even further away from you. And that hurt.

As you came to a stop in front of the office, you knocked twice lightly on the glass of the door. Karen’s voice called out from behind it instantly, telling you to come in. You opened the door and stepped inside, immediately greeted with Karen’s bright smile from her place behind her desk. 

“Hey! Was wondering when you were going to show up,” Karen greeted you as she set aside a folder on her desk.

“I had to finish a few things up at the office before I could actually get out of there,” you told her, making your way over and sitting down in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk. “My boss loves to chat so I was sort of stuck listening to him ramble on about this problem he’d encountered coding–but I won’t bore you with the details. Needless to say, it took me a moment before I could find a way to slip out of the conversation.”

“Well we’re glad you’re here!”

You turned at the voice, spotting Foggy making his way out of his office. He was fiddling with his tie as he came over towards the pair of you, a smile on his face.

“And I hope you’re prepared to fight with Matt about places for takeout,” Foggy added. 

You laughed, adjusting your purse in your lap. “Fog, I’ve known you guys for a while. I already know how picky Matt is about exactly where we get food from.”

“Well he’s grown pickier since Columbia,” Foggy informed you.

"I'm not picky," Matt countered, appearing in the doorway of his office with a frown. "I just know what I like."

Your head turned in the opposite direction, taking in the sight of Matt leaning against the doorframe of his office. He was in a pair of dark dress slacks, his hands on his hips as he focused on Foggy. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, his thick and muscular forearms on display. He’d gotten new glasses recently you noticed–these ones had red lenses. 

"Yeah, that's called picky," Foggy quipped. 

The three of you laughed as a frown crossed Matt’s lips, an irritated huff escaping him. He was clearly not amused. 

"Well I for one am curious to see that billboard at your apartment Foggy told me about," you said, trying to change the subject for him. "I still haven't seen your place and you’ve been there for a bit now."

"Oh, it's obnoxious alright," Karen assured you. When she saw the confused look you gave her she added on, "The billboard, not the apartment."

Something stirred in your chest at her words, a twisting, uncomfortable feeling. Matt was a private person and you knew he didn't let people into his space easily. He’d always been like that. You'd known Foggy had been to his apartment often after Matt had moved out–it was a given considering how close they were–but you hadn't known Karen had been there. Especially when you never had been invited in the almost year since he'd been living there. 

"You've been to Matt's?" Foggy asked, rounding on Karen in surprise.

"Well, yeah," she answered. "Back when you guys took my case? The night the man in the mask saved me?"

You saw Foggy shoot Matt a quick look and you frowned, wondering what that had been about. But then Karen continued on and you weren't expecting what she said next.

"And we uh, did date,” Karen admitted, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Briefly.”

Foggy gasped beside you as your hands tightened on the straps of your purse. Your mouth felt like it had gone dry as you stiffened in the chair. Matt had dated Karen?

“When the hell did that happen?” Foggy exclaimed, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair of them. “How did I not even catch that?”

“It was a little bit ago,” Karen answered.

“For a couple weeks,” Matt added.

Fingernails digging into the faux leather of your purse, you fought the burn of tears in your eyes. He’d dated her? She’d been his friend–and his employee–yet he’d still asked her out? Slept with her? But yet you remained nothing but his friend, one that was steadily drifting away from him?

Would he really give everyone but you a second look?

“Realized we were just better as friends,” Karen said with a shrug.

Her attention landed on you over her desk and you saw the way her blue eyes narrowed curiously at your expression. Her sharp eyes lingered as if she had noticed the change in the way you were acting now since you’d come in. Swallowing hard, you forced a smile back onto your face before you rose from your seat. It was going to be difficult walking back to your place with Karen after this; you found yourself wishing you hadn’t planned that with her this morning. After learning that all you wanted to do was go home and stay there. Maybe cry alone on your couch. You didn’t want to make conversation with Karen right now, and you certainly didn’t want to go to Matt’s and have dinner with everyone. 

What you wanted was to rip your heart out and stop feeling what you felt for Matt once and for all.

“I should probably get back to my place and change if I’m going to be on time later,” you said, voice quivering a bit.

Karen slowly pushed her chair back, rising to her feet and smoothing down her dress. Why did she have to be so beautiful? That only made everything hurt even more right now.

“I’ll come with, like we talked about earlier,” Karen announced.

“Great,” you said stiffly.

You made your way around the chair, your eyes avoiding Matt and Foggy. You knew Foggy was just standing there giving you his usual sympathetic look after the news Karen had just dropped. You really didn’t need to see that look on his face right now. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you said, eyes focusing on your feet.

You heard Karen’s heels clicking along after you on the floor, both of you making your way towards the exit as Karen said her goodbyes. But the pair of you stopped when Matt spoke up, saying your name. You froze at his voice, your head swiveling nervously towards him. He was still leaning against the doorframe to his office, his brows furrowed behind his dark glasses. His arms were crossed over his chest now as he focused on you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you wondered how the hell he’d even noticed something was off. It’s not like he could see the look on your face like Karen had. Once again you forced the strained smile back onto your lips as you looked back at him, hoping the smile would somehow show through in your voice.

“Yeah, I just had a rough day at work,” you lied.

Matt’s head tilted to the side at your words, his lips drawing into a thin line. Somehow his brows had dropped even lower behind his glasses, a deep crease forming on his forehead.

“I’ll see you later though, Matty,” you said in a rush.

Picking up your pace, you ducked your head and darted out of the office. Karen sped up behind you in a hurry to catch up.

The walk back to your place with Karen had been interesting to say the least. You’d practically power-walked the entire way back while she struggled to keep up with you. Every time she asked if you were okay, you only increased your pace. You didn’t want to talk about this with her because you swore she’d seen the look on your face back at the office and had already pieced things together. But when you’d finally gotten to your apartment and she’d followed you inside, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid her prying questions. 

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Karen asked as she closed the door behind herself.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you slipped your dress flats off and set them on your shoe rack. You turned, making your way towards your bedroom as Karen followed after you.

“I just was in a hurry to get back and get changed,” you told her. “Didn’t want to get slowed by the usual evening foot traffic.”

You made your way over to your dresser, pulling a drawer open and grabbing out a pair of jeans. Karen stepped into your bedroom, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting you a pointed stare. 

“Okay, let’s say I believe that bullshit,” Karen replied bluntly. “What was with that look back at the office?”

“What look?” you asked, feigning ignorance.

You tossed your jeans onto your bed and then made your way towards your closet, sliding the door open. Biting your bottom lip, you tried to focus on finding a shirt as Karen stepped further into your bedroom.

“The look back at the office,” she clarified. “When I’d said I’d been to Matt’s and that we’d– Oh .”

Breath catching in your throat, you stared even more intensely at your wardrobe hanging in your closet. She’d certainly figured it out now.

“You like Matt, don’t you?” she asked, her tone abruptly softening.

“We–we’ve been friends for a while, so yeah,” you answered, still refusing to look at her. “Obviously I like him.”

“No,” Karen said.

You heard her briskly closing the distance between the pair of you before you felt her hands reaching out, landing on your shoulders and turning you to face her. Chewing your lip even more nervously, you saw the realization in her wide blue eyes. And then seconds later–there it was. That same fucking look Foggy always gave you. It immediately drew tears to your eyes.

“Stop it, Karen,” you warned her.

“How did I not see it before?” she asked. “You like him. As more than a friend.”

“No,” you replied, your voice cracking on the word as you swiftly shook your head. “No, he’s just my best friend.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t know,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t have–wouldn’t have gone on those dates with him if I’d known you liked him.”

“I–I don’t like him,” you said weakly.

Karen sent you a sad smile, her hands still gripping your shoulders. You felt a tear slip down your cheek and you abruptly wiped it away with the back of your hand. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Karen replied. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

A loud sniffle fell out of you, your eyes dropping down to your bedroom floor. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to control the threat of tears. How many times had you already cried over Matt since you met him now?

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ve…been in love with him for years.”

Karen gasped audibly at your confession, her hands tightening on your shoulders. You sniffed again, blinking rapidly and trying to force the tears back down.

“And he doesn’t know?” she asked.

You shrugged lamely, still refusing to meet her eyes. “Foggy does, but I don’t know about Matt,” you answered. “I’ve never told him, but I’d flirted with him in the beginning. Or at least, I thought I had. I’m not really good at it,” you admitted. “Not with him, at least. But he’s never taken an interest in me. He goes out on so many dates, I’m sure if he actually liked me he’d have asked me out by now. I just–” you paused, fighting hard to keep your voice even, “–just have never been good enough for a second look from him. He’s always wanted everyone but me. And I’m just–just passed over.”

Karen said your name gently, trying hard to catch your eye. Slowly you looked up, meeting her eyes with your own. 

“Maybe he just doesn’t know,” she told you. 

Panic flooded you instantly, your eyes going wide at what you thought she was saying. 

“I’m not going to tell him I’m in love with him!” you exclaimed. “And neither are you! That would kill our friendship in a second!”

“Well, you don’t exactly know that ,” Karen replied. “But okay, if you won’t just tell him, why not try to flirt instead?”

Mouth dropping open, you stared at Karen in complete shock. She wanted you to flirt with Matt? Not only did that sound ridiculous, you didn’t exactly know how to flirt with him. Because if he’d been unaware of your attempts before, he certainly still would be now.

“I can’t flirt, Karen,” you told her. “Not with him. My brain short-circuits if I try. And if he didn’t catch on before–if that’s even remotely the reason–he’s definitely not going to now.”

“I’ll help you flirt!” she said brightly. “He caught on when I flirted with him.”

Your face instantly fell at her words, your heart dropping to your stomach. You didn’t need a reminder of that right now.

Catching on to what she’d just said, her eyes went wide again as she quickly shook her head. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean it like that. But hey, for the record?” she continued in a rush. “Nothing happened between us. I mean, we kissed like twice but that was it. Nothing more than that, okay? We just didn’t work together. We both realized that.”

“Right,” you mumbled awkwardly.

“Look, he viewed me like a friend for a while, too,” Karen told you. “Until I started more openly flirting with him. Try to compliment him. Maybe touch his arm a few times or something–that’ll certainly catch his attention.”

“Or make him think I’m being absolutely weird,” you said. “I don’t compliment Matt unless we’re having heart to hearts. And I definitely don’t just touch his arm.”

“Well there you go!” she chirped. “He’ll pick up on something then tonight.”

“Wait,” you began, panic flooding you yet again. “You want me to flirt with him tonight ? Where you and Foggy can witness my terrible attempts?”

Karen shrugged a shoulder easily. “I don’t think they’ll be terrible attempts, but why wait? Do you want to risk losing your chance?” she countered.

Shoulders dropping, you realized she had a point. Matt often worked fast with finding a new fling or someone to take on a date. And it’s not like you saw him frequently enough to know you’d have another opportunity soon.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. “I’ll try to flirt with him tonight.”

“Great!” Karen replied, a wide smile spreading over her lips. “I’m excited to see how it goes!”

“That makes one of us,” you grumbled, focusing back on your closet.

Karen knocked on Matt’s apartment door as you stood next to her, trying hard to focus on your breathing. You felt like you were going to be sick with the way your nerves were fluttering in your stomach. You didn’t even think you’d be able to eat the meal you’d all be ordering tonight with the way it was churning and twisting. The thought of flirting with Matt had you wanting to turn back around and throw up in the elevator as more and more thoughts raced through your mind.

What if he didn’t catch on at all to what you were doing? Which seemed likely because you were terrible at flirting with him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that he’d flirt back because you didn’t know what to expect–and you didn’t want to be let down.

Or what if he did catch on but you made him uncomfortable because you were supposed to just be his friend? Would it ruin the friendship entirely? And you’d just lose Matt forever? You didn’t even want to think about that.

But just as nerve wracking–what if he flirted back? Did it mean he liked you, too? What the hell happened after that? Did you ask him out?

By the time Matt finally opened his apartment door, you felt like you were inching closer and closer to a panic attack. It didn’t help that he looked handsome in a dark green tee-shirt and jeans. He’d left his glasses off, too, giving you a full view of his entire face. It had been awhile since you’d seen him without them on since he always wore them in public. And you hadn’t exactly been invited into Matt’s private space in such a long time yourself.

It hurt to remember that, too.

“Hey, Matt!” Karen greeted him brightly. 

“Glad you made it, Karen,” Matt greeted her with a smile.

Trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth to speak. “Hey, Matty,” you said, wincing at how odd your voice came out.

You saw Matt’s head tilt to the side, the corner of his lip briefly twitching. But then he greeted you with a smile and your name before inviting you both inside. Karen stepped inside first and you followed after her, but as you slipped past Matt where he was holding the door open, your arm almost brushed against his chest and you’d quickly darted away from him before you accidentally touched him, eyes wide and terrified.

Karen had been at the end of the entryway hall and saw the entire awkward moment. She shot you a stern look as Matt closed the door. You swore she mouthed the words ‘stop freaking out’ before you felt Matt bump into you from behind. Jumping in surprise, you nearly flew out of your skin as you backed into the wall. Matt’s head instantly spun towards you, a curious and confused look on his face.

“I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were standing there,” he said.

“No, it uh, it was my fault,” you said awkwardly. “Shouldn’t uh, shouldn’t just be standing in a hallway.”

Matt continued to stare at you for a long moment, his hazel eyes scanning questioningly around your face. Biting your cheek, you shot him a sheepish smile even though you knew he couldn’t see it. 

“Are you sure you’re alright today?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you asked quickly.

“You seem…off,” he said slowly.

“Nope, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head as Karen mouthed something to you behind Matt that you didn’t catch. “I’m definitely not off today, I’m certainly on.”

Even you cringed at how stupid you’d just sounded, watching as Karen’s eyes slowly closed. Flirting with Matt was a horrible idea. This wasn’t going to work out. You should probably stop before you even tried and ended up truly embarrassing yourself.

“Okay,” Matt said slowly, that unsure look on his face. “Well, Fog is already here so if you want to come in, we can figure out what to eat so we can place an order.”

Matt continued his way down the hall and you followed behind him, internally cursing yourself for how awkward you were becoming around him. It's like all those years you'd spent with him at Columbia had disappeared and you'd suddenly become a stupid, bumbling school girl with a crush. 

The moment you entered the living room, you spotted Foggy sitting on one of the chairs facing the leather couch Matt had opposite his coffee table. Foggy’s gaze immediately locked onto you, his eyes going wide when he did. You watched as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across it rapidly. Brows drawing together in confusion, your focus shifted to the large industrial windows to your right–and then your jaw dropped.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about it being obnoxious,” you blurted.

“What?” Matt asked, pausing on his way to the kitchen.

“Sorry–the billboard,” you explained quickly. “The billboard is obnoxious. I wasn’t exactly expecting it to be so…”

“Obnoxious?” Matt supplied, a cheeky grin on his mouth.

You felt yourself flush as your attention shifted to him, cheeks burning partially from embarrassment and partially from how incredibly sexy he looked with that little grin on his mouth. Why couldn't he just become unattractive one of these days to make things easier on you? 

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

In your pocket you felt your phone vibrate, the feel of it catching your attention. Frowning, you glanced down and slipped it out.

“You two want a beer?” Matt asked as he opened his fridge.

“Absolutely!” Karen called out from where she’d settled into the chair beside Foggy’s.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, distracted by the text you’d received.

It was from Foggy, which had further confused you since he was sitting in the room with you. You didn’t understand why he’d texted you until you’d read what was written in the message.

6:37 PM Foggy:  Dude, what are you doing???? You’re being so gd AWKWARD.

Biting your lip, you quickly typed up a response to Foggy and sent it. 

6:38 PM: Karen knows. She told me I should flirt with him tonight. I’m TERRIFIED.

You shot Foggy a meaningful look as you made your way around the couch, aware that he and Karen had conveniently left you the spot where you’d have to sit beside Matt. And as you took your seat, you saw Matt making his way over with two beers in his hands. He handed one off to Karen when she alerted him to where she was sitting on one of the chairs, and you’d been about to acknowledge him until you saw Foggy reading your text and typing up a response again. It wasn’t until Matt turned towards the couch, saying your name in a form of question as he focused on the space just beside you, that you’d realized you’d forgotten to catch his attention.

“Sorry, I'm zoning out,” you apologized, reaching forward to accept the beer from Matt. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he replied.

Matt took a seat next to you, sitting closer to you than you’d anticipated, though you figured it was unintentional. It's not like he could see how close he'd sat. Across the coffee table, Karen raised her brows at you before her eyes darted pointedly over at Matt a few times. Ducking your head, you nervously drew the beer to your lips and downed a few sips. 

What the hell were you even supposed to say? How were you supposed to flirt with him? Especially with her and Foggy watching you like this so closely. They were only making you even more uncomfortable and awkward. You were so close to just aborting the entire plan.

Your phone vibrated on your lap as it received Foggy’s next text, breaking through your nervous thoughts. Matt cleared his throat beside you on the couch almost immediately afterwards, the noise startling you as he shifted beside you. As he moved, he spread his legs further open and his knee almost bumped into yours. Your eyes were glued to that minute distance between both of your legs, wondering how weird it would be if you just brushed your leg against his.

“So, should we figure out dinner before we lose track of time?” Matt asked.

Drawn out of your thoughts, your attention shifted down to your phone. As the three of them began discussing food options, you opened your text from Foggy.

6:43 PM Foggy:  OMG just tell him! Put us both out of our misery already and TELL HIM.

Glancing up from your phone, you caught Foggy’s eye. He sent you a very pointed look and you shook your head quickly. Out of your peripheral, you saw Matt’s head turn just a little in your direction as Karen was listing off options of nearby places that delivered. You panicked at that little movement, feeling almost like Matt knew something was going on.

But that was ridiculous. You were just being paranoid because you were freaking out about the prospect of flirting with him tonight. That was all.

Karen called your name across the room, catching your attention. Eyes darting up, you glanced over at her with brows raised. 

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked. 

She shot you an apologetic smile before she listed off the names of restaurants again. You were becoming increasingly aware of the way Matt was now focused directly on you as you listened to her. His sightless gaze was sending your heart into overdrive as he seemingly just stared at your chest. What the hell was he doing?

“So what sounds good to you?” Karen asked.

“Oh, uh–” 

Movement across from you had you glancing back over at Foggy. For some reason he'd sat forward in his chair, some strange expression crossing his face as he watched Matt closely beside you. He seemed to snap out of it though when he saw you staring. 

"Uh, why don't we just–just do one of the pizza places?" you asked Karen distractedly, brows now furrowing at Foggy. "We all like pizza, right?"

"I'm in," Foggy agreed quickly, nodding his head at Karen.

"I'm good with pizza," Karen said slowly, shooting Foggy a strange look before she focused on Matt. "What about you, Matt?"

You turned, looking at Matt where he sat beside you. His focus was still on your chest, his expression one of intense concentration. Nervous, you felt your palms beginning to sweat, your heart racing as that ever so familiar fight or flight sensation slowly began to kick in. If he didn’t stop doing that soon, you were probably going to bolt out of his apartment and run home. You were already terrified at the prospect of trying to find a way to work in touching his damn arm , you didn’t need him staring at you like that, too. 

“Matt?” Karen asked again.

Matt startled on the couch, his head whipping in the direction of Karen’s voice. 

“Hmm?” he asked her.

“Are you good with pizza?” she repeated.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he answered. “Wherever is fine.”

Lips parting in surprise, you and Foggy instantly met each other’s eyes, the pair of you sharing a look. That was odd for Matt. He would have usually had more to say about food–what pizza place to pick depending on the day of the week, for starters. Which never made any goddamn sense to you or Foggy, but Matt was generally always adamant. His disinterest was…strange.

Karen abruptly rose out of the chair, her focus on her phone. “I’m going to step into the kitchen and order the pizza then,” she announced. “Foggy? You think you could help? I always have trouble with this app.”

Foggy’s head snapped over to Karen, a look of confusion on his face. He opened his mouth to question her, but Karen glanced up from her phone and shot him a purposeful look.

“Right, yeah, I can help,” Foggy said, rising swiftly from his chair. “They uh, they updated their app it’s–it’s a pain even for me to navigate now.”

He laughed, the sound awkward as he followed behind Karen over to the kitchen. That’s when it hit you that they’d intentionally left you alone on the couch. With Matt. Your focus instantly dropped down to your beer, your fingers nervously drumming along the bottle. Now was a good time to try flirting since you didn’t have an audience, but you felt like you’d suddenly lost your grasp on the English language.

“How’s work been?” Matt asked, turning a bit towards you on the couch.

“It’s been alright,” you answered a little shyly. “Busy. Stressful. How’s the law firm doing?”

“Good,” he replied. “Also busy and stressful.”

You looked up at him from beneath your lashes. He was smiling at you and you felt your heart nearly skip a beat at the sight. His head tilted to the side just a bit, the corners of his eyes twitching ever so faintly. 

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked slowly.

Licking your lips nervously, you tried to think of how to turn this into something flirtatious before Karen and Foggy inevitably meandered back to the living room. “I’ve been good, but I–I do miss seeing you and Fog.”

Before you could overthink the gesture and convince yourself not to do it, your right hand darted out and landed on Matt’s shoulder. You felt him instantly tense under the contact and you didn’t know what to make of that. Had you startled him? Did he not like this? Had he realized you were making some sort of move on him and you’d made him uncomfortable?

“I miss spending time with you, too,” he admitted. 

He was still tense beneath your touch and your mind was racing. Did you leave your hand there? Touch him somewhere else? Uproot and move to Mars? 

Why was this so goddamn hard ?

Glancing over to the kitchen, you saw Karen and Foggy staring at you over Karen’s phone. Both of them had wide eyes as they gawked at the pair of you. Karen’s eyes aggressively gestured to Matt. You could practically hear her in your head telling you to compliment him. 

“So how have–have you been?” you asked, your hand still resting on his shoulder. “Seems like you’ve been going to the gym more since Columbia.”

As the words left your mouth, you felt like your soul also left your body. Had you just complimented him on his muscles like that ? That was so incredibly not smooth. That was the furthest thing from a good compliment that you probably could have given him. You wished you could punch yourself in the face when you heard Matt’s amused chuckle in response. Internally you were screaming as your hand immediately recoiled from his shoulder.

“I suppose you could say that,” he answered. “Work has certainly been stressful and I’ve often needed an…outlet.”

“Right, yeah,” you said, shifting on the couch and intentionally sliding a bit away from Matt. “That makes sense.”

His head further canted to the side, the smile on his lips gradually falling away as he focused on you. You drew the beer to your lips, drinking more of it down as you glanced over the back of the couch. Foggy and Karen were staring at you like they’d just witnessed a horrific car accident. You sent them a look that was a clear cry for help as you lowered the beer from your lips. Thankfully they headed back out of the kitchen, saving you from further embarrassing yourself.

“Well the pizza should be about forty-five minutes,” Karen announced as she settled back in the seat.

“Great,” you replied.

The sooner you ate, the sooner you could leave. You did not think you could do this flirting thing much more tonight.

Karen and Foggy had opted to leave when you had announced your departure from Matt’s shortly after finishing dinner. The two of them were clearly desperate to walk part of the way home with you so they could bug you about how the night had gone, which was why you’d been surprised when Foggy had almost immediately locked Karen into a conversation about work as soon as you’d all left Matt’s place. He’d enthusiastically kept up the conversation for a couple of blocks before it had suddenly fizzled out. That’s when the pair of them broke you from your moping thoughts and focused on you.

“What even was that back there?” Foggy asked. “I’ve seen you be vastly more charming than that.”

“Yeah,” you shot back, “with guys that aren’t Matt I can be.”

“And what was that compliment?” Foggy continued. “Were you going to ask him how to get a discounted gym membership next?”

Your cheeks heated at his comment as you threw your hands over your face and groaned. “It was awful, I know!” you whined.

“All you had to do was say ‘Hey Matt, you’re looking real good lately’,” Foggy told you. “Literally, that’s it!”

“Fog, stop, you’re not helping,” Karen chastised.

Foggy rounded on Karen next. “Do you know how long I’ve watched her pine after Matt?” he asked her. “And now tonight she finally decides to try to flirt with him? I thought this was it! This was the night my two best friends got together and the pining would be over!”

Hands dropping to your sides, you focused on your feet as you continued to trudge along beside them. “Sorry to disappoint,” you told him. “But I think it’s safe to say Matt is not interested.”

“Why do you say that?” Karen asked curiously.

Your attention shifted to Karen next to you, your eyes meeting hers. “Because that back there?” you said flatly, gesturing a thumb over your shoulder. “That’s not how I usually act around Matt. That was more flirty than I’d even been when I’d first met him–which yes, is sad because that was an awful excuse for flirting back there. But if he didn’t respond to any of that tonight, then clearly he’s not interested.”

“She has a point,” Foggy said with a sigh on the other side of Karen. “She’s never been like that with him before. Not that I’ve seen at least. If Matt was picking up something from her and felt the same, he certainly wasn’t doing a good job reciprocating.” He leaned around Karen, shooting you that goddamn sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re right.”

“Not like I didn’t already know he only liked me as a friend,” you replied, tears stinging at your eyes. “I’ll just forever be the one woman in New York City Matt won’t date. Or even try to hook up with.” You felt a few warm tears slide down your cheeks, biting your tongue to fight back the sob threatening to fall out of you. “I’m just–just so tired of feeling like this,” you whispered. “Of crying over him. It’s been years of this. And I can’t–can’t make it stop.”

“Maybe…cut him out of your life?” Karen hesitantly suggested. 

Your eyes widened as your gaze flew to hers beside you. “Just–just stop being his friend?” you asked in disbelief.

She shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, if it’s hurting you this much for that long, and it’s not going anywhere with him and you’re not getting over him with anyone else…maybe it’s something to consider?” she said gently.

“I don’t think I could ever stop being his friend,” you admitted, shaking your head. “Not while I’m in New York.”

“You know,” Karen continued, that hesitant tone back, “I really don’t want to suggest this, but if that’s the case…have you ever thought about leaving?”

Your feet faltered on the sidewalk, Foggy and Karen coming to a stop with you. Foggy was shaking his head at Karen vehemently, wagging a finger at her.

“No, you’re not suggesting she leaves Hell’s Kitchen,” Foggy told her. “She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Karen agreed, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear as she focused on him. “I’d rather she never leave either. But I mean…do you like knowing that she’s hurting this much? For all of this time?” Karen’s blue eyes shifted back to you. “Are you even happy?” she asked.

You opened your mouth, about to answer, but the words wouldn’t come out. Because the answer was no, you weren’t. Not really. Sure, you liked your job. You had friends you enjoyed spending time with. And you really loved New York City–even Hell’s Kitchen had really come to grow on you since graduation.

But deep down you wanted Matt. It was a constant, neverending ache right in the center of your chest. All of the dates you’d ever gone on since meeting him had eventually failed before they could become anything more because no one else was Matt. They couldn’t compare. You couldn’t get him out of your head long enough to really see someone else. Even with Liam, one of the only relationships you’d had in years, you had been constantly comparing him to Matt. But you’d tried really hard to be happy with him, and yet ultimately that relationship had ended in disaster. 

“I’m just saying,” Karen said softly, her eyes on you, “it’s an idea. If you’re really not happy, if it’s that difficult for you to move on past Matt, you could always leave New York. It’s not like you couldn’t come visit us, too. But I can see it on your face.” Her hand reached out, landing on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re hurting. And you really shouldn’t have to live like that.”

Wiping the back of your hands across your cheeks, you tried to wipe away your tears. With a sniffle you continued on again, both Karen and Foggy falling back in step with you on the sidewalk.

“It’s a thought, I suppose,” you muttered. “But I don’t really want to leave New York.”

“And you don’t have to,” Foggy assured you.

The chilly evening air bit at the tear tracks on your cheeks as the three of you neared the end of the block. It was the point in which you’d all soon part ways to head back to your own apartments. Beside you, Karen let out a deep sigh. 

“It was merely a suggestion,” she stated. “That’s all.”

[nothing-tolose]

Wood Stairs on The Coast.

warning: age gap (4 years). please lmk if there's anything i missed!

a/n: i wrote some words repeatedly im sorry, imsorry imsorry

daily click

You really hate yourself for sitting in the same spot again and again. Resting your butt on the wooden surface of the stairs, your eyes gazing at the ocean merely 270 meters from your house. You letting out a sigh as you bury your face in your arms, cursing yourself because you're still waiting for Abby to return, even though there's almost no chance and reason for her to come back to the little town where you live. It has been five years two months and two weeks since she left you with her promise to wait for her come back in 4 years, well, it was too far late. Now that you're a grown up, no longer the girl who once struggled with her homework, you work at a little bakery shop in your small town instead of pursuing university like most of your friends did. Being 21 years old, you feel old enough to date Abby that you've been waiting for almost half a decade since too young to have her back then. But does it truly matter when the promise remains unfulfilled? All hopes, birthday wishes, and prays you always mean it for Abby, hoping she'd be here soon with her feet touching the ground. You knew where her hometown was at, only if you get enough money, you swear you could go there and meet her. You don't even know if her promise is still worth for believing in or it's just a bunch of lies that you still hold tightly. You rejected the girls who confessed their feelings to you because you were waiting for Abby. Now they got their own girlfriends, you still here, sitting on your house's stairs, alone, not with Abigail Anderson, not with her being your girlfriend. You leaned on the railing, thinking about how much easier life was when she was with you, even if it was only for four months. The past five years hadn't been as amazing as the year before. You've heard great things here, but not as great as they'd be if she came back. Your house remained the same as it was a year ago; there was no chance of her getting lost. Night had fallen, and you sat by the window, facing the coast you've been staring while sit on the porch stairs this morning. The dim light in your room from a white bedside lamp—the gift from Abby for your 16th birthday—that you never turned off, day or night. The lamp served as a symbol of how long you'd been waiting; once it went off, it would be over. Your head leaned against the wall, sighing, "Should I stop, Abby?"

You promised yourself you wouldn't sit again on the wooden stair corner again, yet there you are, hand cupping your cheeks, the gentle breeze playing with your hair, forcing you to tuck hair strands behind your ear every single seconds. You have some rocks on the ground from the beach you visited earlier this morning. You've sorted them by size and now you're playing with them randomly, just to stave off your boredom, as if you were know that Abby won't come back, leaving you feeling hopeless now. You huffed, again. You tried not to care anymore about the promise. But no, you knew yourself better than anyone; deep down in your heart, you still cared enough for her. You were too focused on your mind, hands still playing with the rocks and sand, not hearing the footsteps approaching you. The footsteps stopped a few meters away from you. You raised your head, immediately stood up after you saw the owner of the footsteps. You couldn't say anything as if words had become trapped in your throat.

"You've grown up a lot,"

Without a second thought, you ran to her and hugged her tightly. Even though the promise was fulfilled much later than expected, it didn't matter anymore. She's here, Abby is here, Abigail Anderson is here. No words comes from your mouth, all that mattered was the hug, and she returned it just as fiercely. Her hands rubbing your head while saying "I'm sorry, you've waited me for too long." She was saying sorry to you, for countless times. You shakes your head, crying in between the hug. Abby cupped your cheeks, smiling, her gaze locked on your lips, "Can.. can I?" You didn't wait for her to finish speaking as you simply nodded, you want her to kiss you, you really want it. Your lips met hers, ending five years of loneliness without her. At last, she could kiss you without concern for age differences, and at last, you could having her being your girlfriend. "God, where was the girl who always asks me to help her homework?" You chuckled, along with her wiped your tears away on your cheeks after the kisses, "She's a grown up now, Abby."

"Please, please don't leave me again,"

"I won't, baby. I won't,"

Once again big thanks to Taylor Swift for giving me the idea.

[idolomantises]

I think I’m gonna discuss this once and hopefully never have to bring it up again. Originally I wanted to talk about it on Twitter but people are very disrespectful when it comes to mental health so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Basically, I haven’t been doing so great, mentally. Nothing bad has happened to me, I’m safe and surrounded by people I care about, and it’s been like that for months. I just, I haven’t been feeling good.

For people who do follow me on accounts like Twitter and Instagram, you may have noticed I haven’t posted anything new since January. I was struggling to feel motivated to make something for my main accounts despite having countless ideas I’d love to work on. I feel better now and do plan on getting something done in March, but that sudden lack of motivation is pretty rare for me. Art is not only my job but a big hobby for me, I just love drawing. I did get some nsfw art done at least.

I don’t know what really prompted my mental health decline, I’ve been getting a few worried messages and fanart because someone insulted my art. But that didn’t hurt me at all, it actually boosted my account and patreon.

I guess I just… got sad?

I have a really bad tendency to suppress and even ignore my trauma and feelings of guilt. And I guess one day I really sat with my thoughts and I just, lost it I guess. I have so much traumatic memories and sudden and intense feelings of self loathing, something I’ve never felt in almost a decade, that it got overwhelming. I couldn’t reassure myself, I couldn’t really talk to anyone about it because how do you confront things that happened years ago? You feel almost irrational. It’s just memories that haunt you, it’s nothing physical or tangible and yet it’s a crushing feeling of anxiety, self hatred and resentment.

I was crying almost every day, and crying so much that my eyes kept hurting long after I was done, and I could barely see my own screen. I’ve had paranoid thoughts about myself and others, thoughts I can’t get into because they’re so deeply irrational. I was feeling suicidal urges and thoughts of self harm. I don’t see myself doing it, but it’s so frequent and overwhelming it’s like I’m already planning my suicide note.

I was talking to my therapist about it, that I was starting to hate being alive. That I hated living. That I could spend the next 50 years of my life with no more conflict or trauma and I’d still be in intense misery and turmoil. They’re feelings I couldn’t really bring myself to tell friends about because what could they say? How do you calm yourself down and reassure yourself. I can’t even talk about my trauma verbally without crying. And it’s funny because sometimes minor irks started to affect me negatively. I was feeling anxious about what to draw because I didn’t want to do deal with homophobic backlash.

I went to a therapist, I talked to friends, Ive been working out more and eating better, I did everything I should do to improve my mental health and all of a sudden a single night just sitting in my room destroyed everything I was slowly building up over the past 5 years.

It’s been really difficult for me. I think also, I just felt so much guilt over not being the best person I could be. I decided to lessen my online usage, not just for my mental health but because I really wanted to work on being a better person. I want to stop hating myself and letting my trauma push me down and I want to do just be better and do better as a person. A lot of people have been very forgiving and kind to me but I don’t feel like it’s enough and I want to do more and I want to feel better about myself. I want to give everything I can to people around me. I’ve been going to therapy a lot more lately and things are getting better for me, but it’s been a very slow process.

I just want to repeat that nothing serious has happened to me. Nobody attacked me in a way that negatively affected my health. A lot of people, friends and strangers have been really nice to me these past few months. I just was doing a lot of self reflecting and unintentionally forced myself to confront a lot of my trauma. I’m saying trauma a lot. I don’t want to get into depth about what I endured because it’s my business but people who do know me know how bad things were for me. I don’t want to feel like that again. I want to feel better, and I want to do better.

Sorry for the long read. That’s just how I feel.

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 1

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, light angst, cursing, no use of y/n, no description of reader (see note below), smallish age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000) (small for this fandom, anyway) (the smut comes later, y'all, we're just getting started here) a/n: Well, here we go! This is part 1. This fic is completely finished. It’s a 5+1 and for some of the 5 parts I’ll post them together (on Sundays) and for some I’ll post them separately (on Sundays and Wednesdays) just due to length. Obviously I'm posting this one early (lol). I’ll tell you whatever the schedule is for the different parts. I've paid a lot of attention to the reader's description in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible. word count: 1724 (for this part) series main post & chapter list | series playlist (w/ plot-related mix) ao3 | chapter 2

Chapter 1: Meet Cute

Jackson, Early Winter, 2023

You’ve been heading northwest from somewhere in Kansas, thinking you’ve never bothered going out this way, even Before, so why not? It’s been months since you saw another person. You’re not even sure the last time you spoke out loud. 

You blame the lengthy isolation for how easily they get the jump on you. 

It's just after dawn when you're rudely awakened - at first, you’re not sure why, but a second kick to your hip sends you scrambling to sit up in your sleeping bag, which is tangled around your legs. Looking around as you struggle, you realize you’re surrounded by people on foot and on horseback. Every single one of them is pointing a gun at you. You glance to the side and realize your backpack along with anything possibly useful inside of it has been kicked away from you. The woman who kicked you has a steely look in her eye that reminds you, in your half awake state, of the last boss you had Before. 

“State your business.” As she speaks you notice the two men closest to her start to fan out a bit, but you don’t dare look away from her.

“I’m just passing through, I’ve been looking for a good place to spend the winter.”

Or, that’s what you would have said, if not for the voice from your past shouting your name in shock just as you open your mouth. “No goddamn way, is that really you?”

You think you must be hallucinating, because everyone you knew Before is dead, but then Tommy fucking Miller pushes his way in front of the woman who spoke. For a moment you can’t do more than stare at each other — him with his gun hanging limply in his right hand, you with your legs still tangled in your godforsaken sleeping bag. Then you launch into motion and start to kick it away as you find your voice. It comes out shaky. Or maybe you’re shaking all over.

“Tommy? But — you’re alive? Where the hell have you been? Wait, are Joel and—“

Tommy cuts you off as he pulls you to your feet and into a tight hug. “Holy shit, we thought you were dead. Holy fucking shit.”

“We? Tommy wait, are they—“

Tommy pulls back, keeping hold of your shoulders as he looks you in the eye. He’s grinning, his eyes wandering all over your face. “He’s alive, sunshine. Or he was when he came through here about a month ago. We’re expecting them back in the spring.”

You can feel your heart racing and your whole body feels hot and tingly. You’re overwhelmed. You didn’t think you could still feel hope like this. It’s terrifying, but you have to know. “He’s- Them? They’re both alive? Sarah?”

You know the answer before he even says anything. Tommy’s face falls, his eyes drop from yours, and you feel it like a sucker punch, as bad as it was the first time around. Your knees give out even though this is what you’ve known, or tried to convince yourself must be true, for 20 years. Tommy falls gently with you to the ground.

Your baby girl. “Oh god, Sarah. And Joel, he must have been—“

“Yeah, sunshine. He thought he lost you both. It wasn’t… well. It wasn’t good.” 

You’re starting to feel numb. You have no idea what your face is doing right now, but judging by Tommy’s, it isn’t pretty. 10 minutes ago you were alone in the apocalypse, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with your almost-brother-in-law and you know, without a doubt, that your fiancé hasn’t been dead this whole time. Is this shock? It’s been 20 years since you felt a shock like this. Since you felt anything like this. 

“Tommy, I… I need to sit down.”

“Well, you are sitting down, sunshine. But get up, gather your stuff. You can come to town with us. Stay as long as you’d like.” You nod, unsteady, and Tommy guides you carefully towards what must be his horse. 

The day passes in a daze. You think you might actually be hallucinating, or still back in your sleeping bag, dreaming, because a whole, functional town? A commune, and a house they’re just going to let you have as your own? A real community? With your only remaining family, miraculously alive? It’s impossible. You float through the rest of the day and find yourself sitting on a bed in a house with indoor plumbing that somehow belongs to you, having just eaten real food in the company of the family you thought you lost 20 years ago.

You give up and go to sleep. (What else are you going to do?)

...

As you settle into life in Jackson, the knowledge that you might see Joel — your Joel, any day now — never leaves your thoughts. It’s like a drum beat at the back of your mind that only repeats his name, marking time every hour of every day. You don’t know how you’ll prepare yourself for it. How could you? You haven’t seen him in 20 years. Anything could be different. You can so easily picture him with a daughter, but it’s Sarah in your mind, not Ellie, who Tommy has told you a bit about. Every time you open those old wounds that you’ve done your best to bury it hurts like the first time. Would he still want you? Still know you? Do you still know him? Would Ellie like you? You can’t imagine not knowing Joel, or Joel not knowing you, but it’s been 20 years and people change. You’ve changed, after all. Some days you barely recognize yourself. 

You express these fears to Tommy once, but he only laughs and says his brother may be stupid but he’s not stupid enough not to want you. It’s reassuring and rude, so, exactly like Tommy. At least some things never change.

The day Joel Miller walks back into Jackson you happen to be standing on the road near the gates, talking to Tommy, and you swear he spots you in less than 5 seconds. It’s like you can’t help but look to each other first, even when you don’t know the other is alive, even when you haven’t seen each other in 20 years. You’d know the shape of him anywhere and your eyes have never stopped looking for it, never stopped catching on a set of shoulders, a cocked hip, a tilted head, only to be disappointed when it faded like a mirage. When the person in front of you didn’t fit the hole he left behind. It hurt every time. Maybe it’s been the same for him. 

Joel looks like he’s seen a ghost, and you have no idea what expression is on your face, but the moment you lock eyes all you see is the moment you first met, almost 24 years ago, like a film negative laid on top of what’s really in front of you. He’s older, of course, but so are you, and he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He steps towards you and whispers your name like a prayer.

Joel fucking Miller. 

Austin, Summer 2000

It was a Saturday morning in late summer, so not yet the hottest part of the day, but not comfortable, either. Your belongings were steadily moving from the truck to your new rental house under your somewhat careful supervision when movement from the house next door caught your eye. You looked up just as one of the guys from the moving company almost dropped your nightstand off the back of the truck, distracting you from the sight of a young girl, maybe about 10, rocketing out of the house next door and down her front steps. She was wearing a bright green soccer uniform.

By the time your nightstand had been righted and you looked back towards your neighbors’ house, she’d made her way to the bushes between your driveways, standing on her tiptoes and taking in all of the commotion. She met your eye and grinned. You grinned back as she called, “Hi, new neighbor!” 

You walked over, stopping on the other side of the bush to introduce yourself. “Hi there, neighbor.” 

It didn’t seem possible, but she grinned even wider. “I’m Sarah, that’s my dad.”

You looked up, realizing there was a man coming down their steps towards the two of you — the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the look of a man who spent a lot of time in the sun, tan lines peeking out of his shirt sleeves. His brown curls were a bit messy and his shoulders and strong arms drew your eye like a magnet. You caught yourself giving him a quick once over and felt your face start to warm, embarrassed, but when you met his eyes again you caught him doing the same to you. You realized you were both caught and you smiled, introducing yourself. 

“Nice to meet you, darlin’. Joel Miller, and I think you’ve met Sarah.” You felt your face turn hot at the endearment but you knew he probably didn’t mean anything by it. Southern hospitality and all. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You’d opened your mouth to respond when you were rudely interrupted by a crashing noise from the moving truck behind you, and you whirled around to see a box on its side on the ground that definitely should not have been. You glanced back at your neighbors as you excused yourself. “It’s great to meet you! Sorry, I need to see what that was.”

They shooed you along before you could even finish your sentence, reassuring you that they understood. “Let me know if anything broke, darlin,’ I’m pretty handy, could probably fix it. It’d be my pleasure.” He smiled at you a bit, just on one side, edging towards a smirk, and you did your best not to stare at his mouth. “Deal,” you agreed, grinning. Both you and Joel seemed unable to draw your eyes away from each other. You were stuck, pinned in place under his gaze until Sarah tugged on his arm and dragged him towards their truck. “Dad, we’re gonna be late!”

The view from the back was just as nice as the front. 

...

a/n: ch 2 is up!

taglist: @morgaussy

[jmdbjk]

Oh, Jimin...

These are my personal impressions, thoughts, interpretations and opinions on Jimin’s solo FACE album. Some of the things I say here are built on things I know from past original content, interviews and what Jimin has shared personally. Some of it is just me reveling in my first experience with Jimin’s long awaited album. 

It is such a serious album. Jimin said this is the story of what he was feeling, chronologically, 2020-2022, during the pandemic era. At the beginning of 2020, BTS was rising higher than any Korean artist ever had before and then all of a sudden the momentum came to a halt, and there was nothing. Having the life you’ve known suddenly jerked away from you is traumatizing. 

Once the king of social media, Jimin almost ceased by the end of 2020 and never went back. “Oh, he just outgrew it.” No, the man was struggling with his issues and not only did he not need to see the extra crap spewed all over social media but he had nothing left to give, nothing left inside. 

I noticed how Jimin looked physically back in 2020. He was downright frail y’all. The man was trying to give us what we wanted at the expense of his mental and physical health. That breakdown he had during the ending ments in Memories 2020 was too much. They were all stressed out, but Jimin... those that said he was being over dramatic... the man was struggling with his mental health.

I wrote this last June, 2022 but never posted it: 

After Memories 2020 dropped, we’ve heard Jimin say he struggled after everything got canceled. Days upon days that turned into months upon months and more than two years passed before they finally returned to in-person performances. He stated that during isolation and lockdowns he wondered what was the purpose of his life, or that he had lost his purpose.

Jimin’s struggles were most likely much more severe than he let on and he 100% kept it to himself because he didn’t want us to worry about him. That sounded like solo delusional projection but think about Jimin and how he’s behaved in the past...always telling us not to worry. Always saying things to reassure us that he’s happy, he eats well, don’t worry.

There was no working, no performing, their lives and his life changed drastically overnight just like all of ours did. Would we ever get back to normal? What will happen in the future? When will all of this end? 

Face-Off

The album opens with a carnival calliope, it was a little jarring and unexpected. The images it conjured in my brain as the notes played were of a worn out circus winding down. It made me think of the big wild circus that WAS his life, and it just wound down and keeled over. 

Knowing the premise of the album, I think the title, Face-Off, implies Jimin is looking at himself. Speaking to himself. The lyrics could also imply he is speaking to someone else, like people he once trusted. But I don’t think so. 

He was having a confrontation with himself. Reasoning and bargaining with himself.

Maybe he once trusted himself but in this time and place in which he finds himself, he questions what is he doing? and second guessing himself. Day in and day out, the days are all the same nothingness. Hiding his feelings, faking it, pretending it was all ok. It’s all cool. It’ll be all right. He has said many times he looks back at that time and thinks he could have done more for the fans. Being hard on himself. His own worst critic. 

And then this enters the picture: using alcohol to self-medicate. Getting drunk. Numbing the pain. Forgetting. Drink all night. Oh, Jimin...

We know he has a very high alcohol tolerance. He once mentioned that he used to drink a lot. When he declined the champagne during the live after the Busan concert, we all made jokes about it and moved on. Oh, Jimin. 

Face-Off feels like it could have been a purging song when he wrote it. A little primal, you know... just scream, get it out. Painful but cathartic. 

This is the lyric that was scary: “tonight is a beautiful night, I think I’m close (or I think I have it all/I think I’ve found myself)” were chilling to me because they did not come across as optimistic, they came across as being at the end of one’s rope after becoming a shell of a person. He follows that line with “tonight I don’t want to be sober.” Oh, Jimin. 

His vocals open very low and moody then transition to a plaintive cry, punctuated with anger. 

Pour it down, pour it out... the anger, the emotions, the words, just pour it out. 

Interlude: Dive

Like the calliope that sadly wound down, Dive opens with the melody slowly winding back up to speed. Another day starting. Someone knocks, voices, the ambience of a normal day, breathing, running footsteps. The crowd cheering and Jimin’s voice during his ending ments at the Busan concert, more sounds of people in his life. We hear Jimin’s footsteps trudging, it sounds like we hear him climbing steps, entering his house, closing the door, and first thing he does when he is alone in the quiet is pour a drink and drinking deeply. I am concerned. 

Maybe it is supposed to represent the closing of Chapter 1, about a day in the past that was once a “normal” day, since it included the last things he said during that concert.

The music track is dreamlike, repetitive. Living in a dream. Every day. Same thing. Go home. Drink. Do it again. Dive means go deep. In deep. He’s in deep. 

There is a very subtle line between drinking in order to make it through another day/night versus drinking to relax and wind down. A slippery slope to walk on every single day.

We’ve transitioned from the world changing overnight to living in a daze trying to pretend everything is ok. Coping.

Like Crazy

(I am going to express my thoughts using the English version of the song.)

Jimin has explained the song is influenced by the movie of the same name. 

I have learned that the dialogue from the movie was NOT original to the movie but hired voice actors specifically for the song: “I think we can last forever.” “I’m afraid that everything will disappear.” “Just trust me.” And at the end: “How long again?” “What’s the point?”

He has said the dialogue that was used fit the message of the song. I have not seen the movie. I don’t think the song is a literal interpretation of the movie. I think the song’s basic concept is the emotional struggle trying to maintain a dream. But maintaining a dream is unrealistic no matter what you do to try to make it last. Jimin had to come to terms with that.

Jimin’s vocals begin very light and airy, very dreamy. 

[God, he’s fine.]

The vibe of the song is sort of retro, very much evokes the artist, The Weeknd. It has a very 80′s synth beat. It is a very danceable song. Like I said, on the surface.... very dreamy.

Vocals transition and it still seems like he’s having a conversation with himself, or with a voice within himself. A voice telling him to “trust me, follow me... I will make it good for you.” Me: gives a side eye to that voice in Jimin’s head because now I know it’s not trustworthy. “I’ll take the pressure off, been reaching for the stars.” Chasing that high. Go easy, Jimin. Please be careful.

Yes, the lyrics are also very sexy... “give me a good ride,” and “Let me have a taste.” Yep, I’m with ya on all that... ahem... 

[Wow]

[side note: I love the make up in the bathroom scene with that stroke of silver under his eye.]

“All my reflections, I can’t even recognize.” ...what he sees of himself is not reality. He doesn’t recognize himself. Don’t try to save me. I want to stay like this. 

To me, the mud on the floor, the mud flowing down the walls, the mud on the hand that grabs his wrist at the beginning of the song, the mud on his hand at the end... could represent his perceived imperfections, flawed, therefore dirty: his struggle to cope, his less than perfect thoughts... substance abuse... the struggle that he needs to be perfect on the outside or the attempt to appear perfect on the outside but there’s all this dirt on the inside that he can’t hide any longer.....the huge pile of mud at his feet is out of place in the otherwise normal room of his life. Becoming overwhelming for him.

Some of the visuals of this song are, to put it bluntly, very, not heterosexual. Again, these are just my impressions and opinions. But a friend pointed out the photo on the front of his pants and I went looking for information about the art photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe. He was heavily involved in New York’s gay BDSM scene. Some of the things written about him: 

“In a rapidly changing society, he fearlessly confronted taboos surrounding gender, sexuality and mortality, seeking to instill beauty and dignity into subjects that lay outside accepted social norms.”

“... a man who consistently brought his audience face to face with the unknown and the unseen.”

The song ends with him reaching toward the camera to smear it with the mud to hide his imperfect self. When Jimin puts his face in front of the camera, he doesn’t want us to see his imperfections. He wants to be as perfect as he can, he says it all the time, he wants to look pretty for us, but I hope he has realized we accept him as a real human being even with his very human imperfections. 

Alone

The alarm clock goes off...yet another day...doesn’t trust the people even if they are nice to him...he’s lost...day in day out... passing out drunk and not remembering...what am I doing? am I the only one feeling like this? Alone, pretending to be ok...every day the same...how much more until I can go back to before? Feeling more and more isolated within his own mind, pretending to be ok but losing himself every day. Mayday. The cry for help. Telling himself it will be all right (we all told ourselves this back then). The small nagging voice that doesn’t believe it. 

Realizing you’ve changed and you are never going back to the way you were before. 

Not gonna lie, that line right there broke my heart. Gives new meaning to Set Me Free Pt. 2′s line: "raise your hands for the past me.” 

He was in so much trouble and no one knew. He reassured us over and over that he was fine. Not to be over-dramatic but I don’t want to think about how close he was... I have seen a few people say this song really resonated with them. It is a very powerful cry for help.

Jimin’s vocals blew me away. The vocals start out very subdued, almost beaten down. His vocal fry squeezes my heart. He ends crying out “what do I have to do to end this darkness?” Bad twilight. Night’s can be hard.

Set Me Free Pt. 2

From my post on March 17, 2023:

Going insane to stay sane. Raise your hands for the past me. Now set me free. This is where I literally cried. Oh, Jimin.

Going crazy trying to fake being ok. 

Now I know this song is about him saving himself, setting himself free from this prison he was in, the depression, breaking the chains of alcohol dependency, of telling the naysayers out there and his own internal naysayer to go fuck themselves, Park Jimin is back. Strong and beautiful and fierce. The light of the moon shining on us. 

We know he still considers soju his joy. He sounds like he’s taken control, not totally abstaining, but in control. I only wish the rest of his days are happiness and stable mental health well-being. 

Letter

So unexpected. I was in shock. My heart floated away. 

People talk about how Jimin’s album has no collabs on it, unlike the previous member’s solo work. My opinion is, when you are sharing deeply intimate feelings and emotions and struggles about yourself you don’t want or need other people/voices on your song. It’s not appropriate. 

The only exception to this was… Jungkook…not exactly a collab, but he’s there. The other songs used background vocalists who are not members of BTS. 

This song was hidden. Yes, there have been other hidden songs. But come on...

Letter has a strong stroke of Promise in the “oh, oh.” And when Jungkook starts singing it is like the world is set right because those two voices blend like nothing else I’ve ever heard. And he comes in in the middle of the song gently supporting Jimin’s vocals. But unmistakably Jungkook. I know it’s up to interpretation, but for me, the lyrics from then on take on something a little extra in meaning with Jungkook there singing with Jimin. 

You held your hand out to me and now I will hold on to you. So simple and beautiful. The sounds of the surf remind me of the song “Okinawa” that Jimin posted once. Which also reminds me of their pics at Santa Monica beach...

Letter seems to be an actual letter. When the members told him to write it down, put it in a song, maybe Jimin’s first impulse was to write it as if it was a letter. The lyrics are simple and very to the point and convey:

“...though I’m not good with words, I want to sincerely say let’s make each other happier. You who showed me I am bigger than my small self. You've been by my side and I will be by yours. I hope we stay together until the cold winter. Though the future is unknown and scary, let’s stay together. Never forget we’re together.”

There are references to past songs: Sea, Spring Day. Both of those songs were from 2017. 

But Jungkook. On a Jimin song. That was hidden. Clever. That we had no idea about...even though Kookie knocked us over the head with it when he played the guitar for us, making sure we knew he’d only had one lesson. Who do you think gave him that first guitar lesson? Jimin... and Kookie blurting out some English in his last live... who do you think he’s been practicing English with? Duh, Jimin. 

It was a hidden song AND the credits were hidden on the page in the book. They were printed in varnish only, which is basically shiny, clear ink.

You know what I think? Jungkook knew about this song since Festa dinner. The teasing about not being offered the chance to listen to the song. That little shit. I KNOW IT WAS THIS SONG!! I JUST KNOW IT!! This was the rumored subunit. Or at least one of them. I guess we’ll eventually see if there are any more between the others.

They sound so beautiful together. I love them. And as I keep saying, they are fine… they’ve been fine.

Last words...

Anyway, that was a lot of words. Maybe I got too deep. Jimin explained himself about how the album originated. 

As I was telling my friend earlier...everything in this album has peeled a layer, or several layers, away from EVERYTHING I've seen and heard from Jimin and the group since 2020. I had written some things in the past, like last June and even before that, about how Jimin seemed not well mentally. Things that I had no business saying in public because who the hell am I to think I can say something like that about someone I have never met? So I never posted those words. I never thought I would be so close to the mark in thinking those things. He’s been through it, wrote songs about it, and moved on. And I am so proud of him and this album. 

[hollandsfavbabe]

Where Do We Go Now

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her

warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise

word count: 7.1k

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3

Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!

“I am Iron Man.”

The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.

It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.

You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play. 

“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”

You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.

“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”

“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.

There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.

“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”

Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.

“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”

You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.

“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”

And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.

Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.

It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.

He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.

The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.

“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.

“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.

Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.

“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.

“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”

“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.

“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”

His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.

“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.

“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”

You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.

“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.

“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”

You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.

“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”

And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.

You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.

The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.

You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.

You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.

He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.

You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear. 

“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.

You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.

Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.

Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.

“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.

He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?

“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.

“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”

Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.

“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.

“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.

“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!” 

“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.

“Where did she go?”

“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”

Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”

“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“

“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”

“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.

“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.

“What?”

“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”

“What?! Where is he?”

“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”

As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.

“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.

“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.

“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”

“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.

The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.

“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.

“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.

Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”

“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.

“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”

“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”

It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.

“We have to find her. Now.”

Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.

“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”

“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.

It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.

The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.

They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.

“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”

“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”

“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”

Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.

It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.

If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.

Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.

You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.

You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.

“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.

You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.

Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.

You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.

“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.

“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.

“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you. 

“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”

“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“

“I WANTED TO DIE!”

Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.

“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”

You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.

“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.

“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.

“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”

Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.

“It hurts me so much.” you restated.

Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.

“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't." 

"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.

"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Breathe."

As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.

“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.

“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”

You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.

You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.

You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.

The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.

There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.

It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.”

The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.

You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.

Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.

You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.

Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.

"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."

You both cried after that.

Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.

It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.

“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙

[yaskie]

Fighting for Cancer

All Stickers and emoji sales will be used for Uncle Dindo’s medical debts and balances for his wake and burial, Auntie Sam’s and my ongoing Hormonal and chemo treatment. We also set a targeted amount through our goal for donations. We thank you all, thank you so much for everything. We deeply appreciate all donations and purchases that will be made. To all who have helped me in the past. I am eternally grateful. Please help me share this post, reblog. It will help me a lot. ❤️‍🩹❤️🩷🧡💛 Hello Dear friends, I hope you are all doing well. It’s been a long time since I have made an update about my health and everything that is happening to my life. Life has been so busy.  As you read the title for this campaign. Yes, Fighting for cancer, as some of you know I fought with the same battle several years ago, to my friends who helped me financially and all. My never ending gratitude to all of you. 

I became okay and I chose to deal with financial struggles myself, because I know that I am already giving too much burden to my friends over the course of more than a year. I went back to do regular jobs despite lower grade pays in order to survive, and pay the remaining debt for my medication. Where I live, we are paid daily, not hourly and daily wages are between $12-$15/day. And work 8-12 hours a day. Unfortunately, life does not always end like a fairytale. I am doing this campaign again. Not just for myself but for the other two people that are important to my life. I guess this battle runs into the family. I lost so many family members battling this. I lost my Dad to Stage 4 lung cancer last 2015. And last night(March 25,2024) I lost my Uncle Dindo in the same battle, after several months of intensive treatment. It left us drowning with hospital bills, and debts and it cost us nearly $130,000 and is still running. Uncle Dindo left her wife and two daughters, one who is deaf and mute.  Not only that, my Aunt Sam, is also dealing with her Stage 3 Breast Cancer, and it costs us almost $2,000 - $3,000 a week. Her right breast has already been removed. But she is also under close observation. And she was forced to have her unpaid leave at her job, as she needed rest. This also adds up with the financial struggles that we are dealing with too. We have bad healthcare here in PH. And if you are not rich you will die easily.  As for me. After I survived my battle in the Lungs. Tumors have popped up in other parts of my body, most of them are benign(but closely monitored for changes), if there will be malignant tumors again that will also pop out too. If you will see my previous posts, last year there had been a concern about my breast and a surgery was needed, but I decided not to proceed and I went through herbal medication, as it is the most affordable way. They helped me, but some backfired. And I am so afraid to lose a body part. Unfortunately, I got bad pneumonia on-off, and the pain in my right breast is unbearable, after several tests. I am diagnosed with Stage 1. Doctors have already warned me in the past about this. And I also asked for a second opinion, because last year it was just only a close call. I will currently take hormone medication, and another chemo. I do not want another surgery at the moment, if it can be avoided. I have high hopes that I will survive this. I can still do jobs to pay for home and other bills. And be with you all. 

I decided not just to do this campaign alone, but I also made a Ko-Fi Shop to sell digital stickers. With a collaboration and help from a friend, we currently made 11 printable stickers that you can print on the comfort of your home or print shops with a size of 2x2 inches. You can also use the emoji stickers through your streaming channel, please message me through my Twitter, so I can follow your stream. And for those who printed the physical stickers, it would make us happy if you can tag a photo of them through my twitter. You can put them through notebooks, tumblrs….etc.

Here is the link for our Ko-Fi Store.

Please follow me on twitter or here on Ko-Fi for updates. As we are still working on more Sticker designs. We Can-CerVIVE.

I appreciate all the help that we could get. And thank you so much for understanding. Please take good care of yourselves. Never take your health for granted. Health is wealth. And prevention is better than cure.

Love, Jasky(Your Eternal Sprout)

P.S. To my friends in-game don’t worry you will still see me <3 I love you all! Stay happy and smiling.  These are the digital stickers that we are currently selling.

To all my friends, I badly need your help. Please. Thank you. Sorry for tagging you. Reblog and if you can tag your friends too. Thank you for understanding.

@measurelessdreamer @c1a1r3r3df1e1d @samblerambles @nearlybitches @sunhatllama @leonshinkai @shotce @crazyworldhuh @sparkie96 @silvertonguelover @fossil-finder @vietnoodle @irishspringyum @kevinbuiyin @angelspin @thecloudstan @neji-vuldarak @takuyasaeki1001 @valhethella @artofshiroginko @yuko27 @junie-junette @chris-is-not-evil @wuekka @nelyth-v @ya2do @rebrandedbard @tielmamon @signalboostr @mcqraw @risingoflights @travelling-hydaelyn @thedemonofcat @leonisdumbasallhell @litoperezito @priscilla-a-moreno @waywards-thing @chreonweek @heliosani @residentevilx4 @lemonadeswift @prozdvoices @doomednarrative @neil-gaiman @aussiepineapple1st @matchalilly @highball66 @purpledusty @diviedrawn @residenceevil

[leeknowsnot]

scenario — hold me (han x reader)

genre: angst, comfort but also not comfort

warnings: mentions of death, reused scene of you breaking plates, friedrich's ataxia again because i cannot get over your lie in april, implied character death, implied sex but no detailed smut

summary: you and jisung broke up, only to be reunited by the worst scenario possible; you fainted at a bar that he was in as well and now you're in the hospital, waking up to a confused jisung. you tell him you inherited a rare disease from your family called Friedrich's Ataxia and you've been diagnosed with this for almost a year, after the both of you broke up. it's clear neither of you are over each other

kind of reused the whole breaking plate scene but i swear this time, it's a lot more detailed, and different too so i hope you'd still give it a read!!

He didn't expect to hear that. That you would tell him that. At first, he thought you were joking. He thought it was a funny ploy to get some guilty reaction from him but your face showed none of the sort.

His whole body feels frozen in time as he continued to listen to you. He feels like he's been stabbed in the heart the moment the words leave your mouth.

"Friedreich's Ataxia..." he repeats.

The words felt so hollow and empty in his ears.

"...Y/N..."

There is nothing more he can say at the moment. He's completely speechless now.

You bitterly chuckle under your breath. "I... didn't tell you before because we already broke up by the time I found out."

"And I knew you'd be worried, but I was... trying to get away from you. So you would have enough time to move on to not feel hurt once I..."

You stop, the reality of everything finally sinking in like a boat. "...Once I die."

"Y/N..."

He can't help but let out a deep sigh of disappointment. He's not even mad at you for keeping a secret like that. It's not like you both had any commitment to one another anymore. But that doesn't change anything right now. In fact, this makes him want to cling on to you all the more.

"Y/n, I don't want to move on..." he whispers gently, "I don't want to lose you..."

His voice is filled with desperation, as if trying to beg you to not leave him behind.

You reach out for his hand, holding it tightly. Although for a split second, you could feel your grip falter.

Y/N close your eyes as a tear escapes. "I... I don't want to lose myself either," you say. "Jisung, I... What do I do?"

You look at him, a look of desperation bearing deep into your gaze. "I don't... want to die."

"I want to be with you..."

"Just a little bit longer."

...

Eventually, months pass for the both of you. You decided to let both your past problems and shortcomings behind, trying to live a new life together for the remaining duration of your life. You moved back in with Jisung.

However, it wasn't all clouds and rainbows.

Jisung was out at work, returning home within a couple of minutes and you were left at home. You were busying yourself with trying to help with house chores. After all, it was the least you could do after quiting your job since you barely had five months left until your impending demise.

You had a pile of plates in your hands, having washed them before you would put them back in the cupboard. You and Han only needed two at most anyway. However, as you were walking towards the kitchen, your legs suddenly became numb, making you yelp in surprise and fall on the floor, dropping the plates. It was a complete noise as the plates shattered upon impact on the ground.

You panicked, having lost feeling on your legs as you tried to find a way out of the broken plates.

Jisung hears your scream the moment he steps inside of the house. He quickly drops his bag and rushes towards you, only to see you struggle on the ground as you lost the feeling in your legs.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, quickly helping you up.

"I'll help you with those later. Are you okay?" He glances down at your knees, which now had a small bruise from the impact.

His eyes are filled with worry, not knowing what to do in this situation.

You tremble, alienated and freaking out at the sudden loss of feeling on your legs. Your eyes filled with tears as you look up at him.

"Jisung, I'm sorry I..." you sob, glancing at the mess. "I was just trying to help with the chores but my legs... My... legs, they just..."

You break down, sinking into his chest. With only a few months left to live, your condition was starting to act up frequently.

He brings you into his embrace, feeling you tremble as you broke down in his arms. You were crying, scared and confused as to what you were experiencing now.

Tears stung his eyes, feeling utterly powerless about the situation.

There was no cure.

There was no treatment.

He and you were left with nothing but time.

"Y/n..." He whispers gently, kissing your head as he rocks it back and forth. He wants to stay by your side despite the entire kitchen being a mess right now.

You apologized profusely as you cried into his chest, hands balling into fists.

You were afraid. Afraid of losing yourself. Afraid of death. Afraid of not being able to see Jisung again once the inevitable comes to claim your life.

"There's nothing to apologize for, really." His voice is gentle as he holds you tighter in his arms.

There was nothing he could do for you but hold you tight. In this situation, this was the only way he could comfort you, even if only a little bit.

"Don't be scared... I'm right here," he whispers softly. "I won't leave you alone, no matter what."

Eventually, your sobs die after a couple of minutes, turning into nothing but sniffs. You finally pull away, though hesitantly, to glance around at the mess.

"I broke so much plates..." you dejectingly said.

"That doesn't matter, Y/N." He takes a look at the broken plates beside them, feeling worried for you but deciding to not bring it up.

He brushes your hair away from your eyes just like what he used to do so many years ago each time you'd break down crying. He never thought he would be doing this again now.

"Don't overwork yourself anymore. Let me handle it." That was the least he could do for you.

You look at Han, tears attempting to pool within your eyes again. "But... you have so much stuff at work and... this is the least I could do to help you," you stop, looking down as your eyes flutter. "But I guess I just made things worse."

"Y/N..."

He brings you to his level once again so you both were face-to-face, and that's when he notices how much your eyes have gotten darker, more sunken. Your condition has grown worse and worse, and he can't help but feel helpless.

"Just rest up for now. My job is at least manageable. That much I can handle."

"Right now, you should just get better. I don't want to see you in this condition again." He tries to bring a smile onto his face, trying to ease your worries.

He was always so good at putting up an act just to make you feel better. Even if he was hurting too, seeing you like this.

You sniff, eyes staring into his. "But..."

"Please, don't push yourself," he begs, cupping your cheeks with his hands. "I just want to see you getting better."

"Just... promise me you'll give yourself a bit more of a break, yeah?"

The thought of losing you in this state pains him a thousand times more. He wants to see you smiling and happy for just a few more months until your time comes.

Both of you knew you won't get any better. Only worse. But Jisung's words always seemed to make it better. It always seemed to make you believe and hope that you will get better.

You give him a short nod, clinging onto him.

He smiles gently at you, caressing your neck and cheeks as his heart starts beating faster. He really couldn't stand to see you like this... not when everything was slowly coming to an end.

He wants to hold onto you... at least until the end.

"I love you, Y/n," he whispers. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you... and that includes never leaving you alone."

"I love you too," you whisper back to him, exhaling a sob.

Eventually, Jisung carries you to the couch as you couldn't walk by yourself at the moment. You watch him sweep the broken plates from the floor, head resting on your arm as you gaze on him lovingly.

It was like falling in love all over again. And yet your remaining time would always come slapping you back in the face again with reality.

As he swept the broken plates away, all he could think about was the memories he shared with you. The walks around the park, the dates you had at restaurants, and the night he made love to you for the first time... they all replayed in his head, making his heart ache more than ever.

He looks up to see you, your eyes fixed on him as you gaze at him lovingly.

He smiles at you and sits beside you, taking your small hand into his. Just like how it always used to be.

Your lips part, eyes trailing from your intertwined hands to Jisung's face. You take in his features. The feeling of his hand on yours, because one day... One day you'll lose your ability to feel and touch him too.

So you savored this moment.

His heartbeat quickens for a moment as he looks into your eyes. He can feel his stomach flutter and his mouth get dry, unable to say a single word right now.

"Y/N..."

He wanted to say so much more, but his breath was caught up in his throat. He can feel his hand shake slightly, as if his body is being overwhelmed by his emotions. So, instead of saying anything else, he just stares at you and takes in your features. Trying to memorize all of it.

With your unoccupied hand, you caress Jisung's cheek. You memorizes every bump, every curve of his face.

"Jisung," you whisper. "Make love with me for the last time. I want to memorize all of you at this moment. While I still can."

Your eyes meet once more before he answers your request. His fingers caress your other cheek, as well as your lips because he wants to feel everything of you.

"Okay..." the word barely even leaves his lips as his body goes on autopilot.

He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours in the softest kiss imaginable.

It's like time has stopped for the both of you right now, where you're nothing but two people sharing their love for one last time.

Every kiss. Every touch. Every gasp. It held so much love as you both reveled in each other's presence. He held you as if he didn't want to let you go. He really doesn't want to.

The both of you laid on the bed side by side, naked bodies pressed against each other.

It was like you never wanted to let go and be apart from one another again. You were two love-stricken lovers, not wanting everything to end even though you knew that you were running out of time.

Jisung gazes down at you, your foreheads touching. He caresses your cheek gently.

"Let's stay like this forever," he whispers to you, "just like this."

With half-lidded tired eyes, you give him a small smile, nodding as you close your eyes.

"Yes. Let's stay like this," you say, exhaling comfortably. "Forever."

Both of you knew there was an underlying meaning in your statement. Forever was an impossible word. Especially for you whose days were counted.

"Hey, look at me."

Jisung stares intently at you, knowing that he needs to see your beautiful eyes once more as they open to look at him.

"Promise me that you'll be waiting for me on the other side," He whispers softly, touching each one of your fingers. "I might be late, but I'll come and look for you, alright?"

"I know it's silly, but that's what I truly feel right now."

He looks down at you once more, his eyes sparkling the moment they meet yours.

You give him a soft laugh. "I'm not dying yet right now Jisung," you lightly joke, closing your eyes once more.

Even if your eyes were closed, tears escaped your eyelids. "I'll wait for you. Even if it takes forever."

"And if reincarnation happens to be true," you pause. "I'll love you in every life."

Jisung can't help but let out a quiet laugh despite the tears streaming down his face. He gazes down at your face.

You looked so beautiful in his eyes right now... more beautiful than ever before.

"I'll love you... in this life, and in many lifetimes to come," he whispers. "Even if we can't be together forever this time."

He smiles softly before bringing his lips against your forehead.

"Rest, my love. Rest."

like and reblogs are very much appreciated!! (i cried while writing this at 2 am ngl)

[jane-john-doe-tournament]

John Doe (Malevolent) Propaganda:

Spooky gay eldritch disaster (am I doing this right?)

Could have chosen any name for himself and picked John because a kind person called him that :)

fractured piece of an eldritch god that shares a body with a private eye after being fractured. chooses the name John Doe after said private eye goes into a coma

Because he’s an eldritch god who wants to feel human and who overcame a lot of obstacles and dangers!!! He sincerely cares about the main character!!! And he chose a name himself! Isn’t he cute??? He lost his body, he almost lost his memory, he fought for his right to exist, he loves animals, he loves his friend Arthur and I love him!

Being an ass, friendship, spooky supernatural stuff, he’s got it all

My man heard the name John Doe, realized he didn’t actually have a name, and just. Took it for himself.

I LOVE HIM. MY SON. HE’S TRYING TO CHANGE AND BE BETTER AND :(((( He’s a fragment of the soul of the King in Yellow (god of trickery and suffering iirc??) that gets trapped in a book in our realm while the rest of the King stayed in his own separate realm. When a human named Arthur Lester opens the book they get linked and John gains control of Arthur’s eyes & kills his partner (oops!). They proceed to go on a quest to find a way of separating them because neither likes the situation, and at first John (or The Entity, which is what he’s called at first) just wants to trick and use Arthur, and control his entire body (through the first season he also gets a hand & a foot) even though he doesn’t remember being The King In Yellow at the time, but Arthur makes him change and become more human. His turning point is when Arthur is shot and falls into a coma for a month. They get treated at a hospital and while John waits for Arthur to wake up so they can carry on, the body itself still gets taken care of. The time John spends alone, contemplating on humanity & everything he’s seeing and learning from Arthur, as well as the way a certain nurse speaks to him every day (specifically, she greets him good morning and good night, despite the body being unresponsive, John still hears because he is an entity linked to the body) and calls him John (they didn’t have ID on when they were found so they were classified as John Doe), changes his outlook and plans for good, and he asks Arthur to call him John; from this point on he admits he cares for Arthur, looks for his wellbeing too, and in general attempts to be a better person and to live for himself. The rest of the podcast (ongoing!!) explores Arthur & John’s relationship, struggle to survive, adventures in the eldritch… All while tackling each of their issues with themselves and each other and watching them both grow. John in specific learns to be the person he wants to be, how sometimes you’ll take a step forward and two backwards; he can be cruel and manipulative sometimes but he still tries. Personally I love his journey, it’s very realistic and you can see he is trying his best, and how he wants to be better than he was as the King In Yellow, and how much Arthur has changed him and how much he cares about him because of that; and how he’s slowly growing into being his own person :) if it ends badly ill cry so hard but!!! he’s John Doe because that’s the name he was being addressed as, and he’s made it his, and being John means he’s no longer the King and that he wants to be different, and John can fail or make mistakes but it’s part of who he is now, and that’s what matters. I am So Normal About Him

JOHN DOE (Malevolent) SWEEP

Jane Doe (Team Fortress 2) Propaganda:

Soldier’s name, Jane Doe, emphasizes the core aspects of his character. We’re given sparse, mostly comedic, details about Soldier’s past, having been rejected from every branch of the U.S. Military. Soldier represents this parody of the idea of a U.S. Soldier. He’s taken every trope to heart and blown it up, but gotten it slightly off. Hence, his name is a reference to an unidentified person, someone without a real identity, but skewed slightly to the left from just being your standard John Doe.

Rejected from every branch of the military. Used sour-cream to found a racoon sanctuary in his ex-roommate's new castle. Has lead poisoning. Him and his fiancee are like if Gomez and Morticia Addams were meathead jocks. Strips naked and douses himself in honey in order to fight things like bears and killer robots. Collects severed heads. I love him.

[chicken-fifi]

Lost Connection (pt 6) | Leeteuk (SuJu) Imagine

Pairing: Park Jeongsoo x Fem!Reader

Requested by @bokkibunny: Hi Fifi, I’m here requesting part 6 of Leeteuk’s Lost Connection imagine, please! First of all, thank you so much for writing this, my heart has been breaking so much for Jeongsoo 😭 Now, onto the request: Since that day she remembered something about their relationship—and since she’d been dismissed from the hospital a month ago—Jeongsoo has felt nothing but hope. Hope for her recovery, and yes, hope for their future as well, now that she was back at their place. Per her request, he’d spent the next several months telling her stories about how they met, their dates, their fights, and all those little details he’d never thought mattered, in the hope that she’d remember them… There had been very little progress, unfortunately. One day he returns home and finds her on the floor surrounded by photo albums and in tears because, despite everything, she still can’t remember a thing. He tries his best to comfort her and, amidst their closeness and vulnerability of that moment, they share a short, sweet kiss. Was it wrong of Jeongsoo to let his emotions get the better of him? Did he ruin all the progress she’s made so far with a single moment of weakness? Up to you if you want to include her reaction to the kiss or save it for the next part! Thank you! 💚

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,278 words

A/n: i'm actually a day ahead of schedule! hurray for me! as always please refer to this reaction as well as the previous three parts of this expansion series (1, 2, 3, 4, 5). happy reading and please reblog or comment!

Tunes: spy x family. gosh this show is hilarious af. i love this chaotic little family

You made your way around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets trying to find the pans and some plates for the dinner you wanted to make. Since being discharged from the hospital a month ago, memories had been coming and going frequently. For every memory you remembered, it seemed you forgot a recent one that you were currently making - hence your struggle to find the cabinet with the right contents.

It’s all part of the process, the doctors had assured you, once you’d set up an appointment with them. It’ll happen in due time. Just don’t force it.

“Ah-ha!” you cheered as you found the pans and plates. Pulling them out carefully, you began getting dinner ready, finishing just as Jeongsoo entered the apartment.

That was another development. Despite only having been discharged a month ago, you’d spent countless months with Jeongsoo at the hospital on the island prior to being discharged. During those months you found quite a lot about your relationship with him. He’d recalled and shared memories about the more mile marking moments in your relationship. From the most memorable date - for him - to the ground shaking fights that changed your relationship for the better, he shared all the little details that he’d never really focused on upon your request, describing everything to the point you swore you could see everything happening in your mind, and maybe you actually were…but you weren’t entirely sure. Sometimes he would even bring up the conversations about the future the two of you had had, only for his mood to dim and the topic be dropped almost as quickly as it had started.

Though little and sparse, the progress was a bit more noticeable than one would think. Having company over seemed to help a bit as well. Your body seemed to remember every single one of the guys that came over even though your mind could not. Tonight, however, was one of the few nights that it would be just you and Jeongsoo eating dinner - something you were glad about. You loved having people over and listening to them talk about the past even if you couldn’t remember it, but you also loved just being with one other person who knew you the best - well pre-plane crash you.

“Do you want help with dinner?” Jeongsoo asked, as he set his things down on the counter. “I’m more than happy to help.”

You shook your head ‘no.’ “I think I’m good. You should go and wash up, I know you went to the gym after your dance practice.”

He gave you a sheepish look before walking off to the master bathroom. You heard the shower start and quickly began cooking, wanting to finish just in time for when he got out. Now what to cook was the question. Not wanting to struggle to come up with something to make, you walked over to the bookshelf in the living room and picked out a random cookbook, pulling another book out with it and onto the floor. Said book opened as soon as it had fallen onto the floor, making you freeze in place as you looked at the content.

It wasn’t an ordinary book, it was a photo album. Your’s and Jeongsoo’s album by the looks of it. Placing the cookbook back, you sat down on the floor, looking at the image with a focused gaze. It had to have been taken a few years ago, at best - especially given how young you looked. Your eyes were trained on the camera, mouth open in what looked like the middle of a word, finger pointing at whoever was holding the camera. Jeongsoo on the other hand, had his face turned in your direction, looking at you with the dreamiest gaze known to mankind, completely ignoring the fact that someone was trying to capture that moment in time.

Turning the page, you allowed your eyes to train on the wedding photo. It was Jeongsoo’s sister's wedding. The two of you stood directly behind her sitting figure in the room with bright smiles on your faces. Jeongsoo was once again looking at you instead of the camera.

Page after page, you kept flipping through the album - dinner long forgotten. You weren’t entirely sure why you continued to flip through the photo album as none of the events captured in those pictures seemed to come back to you, but you did. Maybe it was wishful thinking that one of these singular images would somehow kickstart the montage of the years you’d lost. Maybe you genuinely thought that after you saw the last photograph everything would come back, like some soap opera where the female lead’s luck is finally starting to turn around.

But it didn’t happen.

None of those things happened.

Instead you found yourself grabbing another album as you wiped the tears from your eyes hoping that this one would be the one. Only for the same thing to happen and for the actions to repeat themselves over and over and over again. You were so overwhelmed and frustrated that you failed to register the sound of the water cutting off and Jeongsoo's voice as he spoke whilst making his way to the kitchen.

“Did you finish cooking that quick-” his words cut short as he took in your appearance as well as the scattered photo albums around you. “What’s wrong?”

You finally looked up at him, noticing his presence as he began making his way over to you. “Why can’t I remember?” you choked out. “Why can’t I remember?”

The pitch in your voice as well as the thickness of the oncoming tears that worsened had Jeongsoo falling to his knees pushing aside albums as he brought them as close to him as he could. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other pressed against your back rubbing it in effort to soothe you, he made attempts at whispering words of reassurance into your ear. Your sobs calmed as you pulled away, not meeting his gaze as you pressed your forehead against his.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathed out. “I know it’s hard on you to be here with me, without me remembering anything. And I’m trying to remember, I really am, but I just-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he stopped you. “I’ll come in due time. Don’t force yourself to try. Okay?”

You didn’t answer as you looked up, finally meeting his soft gaze. The two of you held eye contact for a while, before your eyes flickered down to his lips, your teeth involuntarily biting your own. Jeongsoo’s hand moved to cup your face, angling it toward him as he inched closer pressing his lips to yours for a solid minute before rushing to pull away, apologizing profusely for the unconsented action, only for you to turn his face back towards you leaning in and repeating said action. The sweetness of the kiss seemed to cancel out the sour tears you had shed, if only for a few short moments, before you too pulled away pressing your forehead against his.

There was a warm familiarity in the action and feel of his lips against yours, shards of memories of the simple action flooding into your brain. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye as you looked at him smiling softly.

“We did that a lot didn’t we?” you questioned, already knowing the answer.

Jeongsoo nodded, wiping the tears away, “We did, and I know we’ll do it a lot more someday.”

You could only hope that he was right and that that day would soon come, along with all of the memories you were still missing.

[xanthusasaka]

My version of thilbo arclight

Thorin:

People are naturally jealous/want to have what they can't get, and Thorin also almost naturally, without realizing it, longs for things that Bilbo has - a warm home, a peaceful town, enough to make him proudly say that "I miss my home." Maybe it was envy? Maybe it was jealousy, which made him remember the warmth and all kinds of comfortable facilities in Bag-end a few months after he visited it, so he firmly believed that Bilbo - a flower in this kind of greenhouse, could not be like himself, a wandering warrior without a home.

In fact, Thorin's "self" has no home, the lonely mountain is a responsibility, it is destroyed, he has no right to call it home, he feels that he has no choice but to reclaim Erebor, and because of this heavy responsibility, he can't proudly cal the Blue Mountains home.

When Bilbo finally sympathized with the dwarves and confessed that you don’t have a home and I will help you get one, that kind of envy and jealousy and suspicion all turned into an extreme form of longing. Not only does Thorin longing to have a home but he also longing to become like Bilbo, who can say out loud that home is comfortable and I miss home, and even (in a queer lens) longing to find nostalgia in Bilbo’s body. It was a dangerous yet soul-touching transference. What he lost in childhood, he found them in the hobbit. If his homeland had not been destroyed, he would have lived a life like Bilbo, so he also realized that courage lies in In everyone's heart, Bilbo could also empathize with his experience and Bilbo is also brave and strong.

Bilbo

When Bilbo faced Gollum, he didn't realize that he was a Hobbit, but this didn't affect Bilbo thinking of Gandalf's teachings and not killing him. Yet, when Bilbo was protecting Thorin, he made the determination to kill. ↘️(he is literally aiming for heart

(Bilbo in Thorin’s eyes are probably like:↙️

In fact, Bilbo also has a dark and greedy side in his heart. He wanted to kill Gollum. Before Thorin told Gandalf that he must have run away, he did hesitate and wanted to leave secretly. He concealed the ring from Gandalf, and then wanted to kill the orcs again. He's been in an inner struggle, and knows quite well what the bright side looks like in opposition to those dark sides—he wants to be an adventurer, to see the world, and he is moved by Thorin’s heroic past.

Unlike Thorin, who may not even know about Bilbo’s upbringing when he dies, Beebo knows very well that he also has noble blood; he just doesn’t have the sense of aristocratic hierarchy like dwarves and humans, but he is actually a person who value’s his upbringing: he often attributed his boldness to Took's blood, and in the end of BOTFA he told Thorin that as a Baggins (perhaps representing his cautious side), he did not deserve to be with Thorin. Maybe after he set off on the journey, he also secretly thought about whether he could do what Thorin did if he were a dwarf, whether he could be a hero and do the right thing.

Unlike Kee and Fee, who proactively wants to be Thorin, and wants to be recognized by their uncle; Bilbo only subconsciously wants to be Thorin, wants to be recognized by him. Bilbo cannot bear to see a heroic story with a sad end, so he jumped out to save Thorin from Borg. This complex desire and motivation has shaped his growth, from hating Thorin, wanting to leave; to actively protecting a person who had doubted Bilbo ten minutes ago, to taking the initiative to climb up trees and find direction, to rescuing the whole squad several times. Interpretation of movie Bilbo without a queer lens always believes that spare Gollum from death and not attracted by the Arkenstone shaped Bilbo growth. While in fact, Bilbo has a lot of desires. In addition to the Ring, he also wants Thorin’s affirmation. (And maybe love😂)