#i do NOT have the spoons to handle my responsibilities and an emotional breakdown about

[lucky-numberme]

the overwhelming desire to watch Nimona VS the knowledge that I do not have the time to process the various things it will no doubt to do my emotional state

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone

A/N  Another long drive, another Outlander fanfic idea that dropped into my brain out of nowhere, shoving aside the historical AU I have been wrestling with for months.  Here’s the pitch: Claire Beauchamp is a psychiatrist specializing in grief counselling.  Jamie Fraser is referred to her by his sister, who is worried for his well-being after a series of family tragedies.  You can probably guess the rest, but I’m going to write it anyway.   The title is taken from a song by the amazing Phantogram that was playing as the story idea came to me.

After losing my WIP virginity posting Ginger Snap, I’m going out on that limb again and posting this first chapter with only a rough outline mapped out in my head.  You people are a terrible influence!  Also, there will be some trigger warnings on future chapters, so please watch out for those.   And now, on with our show.

Claire Beauchamp glanced down at the leather-bound calendar open on her desk.  The ivory page for Thursday was packed to the margins, each hourly block filled with the name of a patient followed by a series of cuneiform symbols she used to remind herself of the last session, course of treatment, overall progress, all while maintaining strict confidentiality.  Not even Geillis Duncan, her office administrator and very good friend, knew how to decode the script.

Geillis liked to laugh at the old-fashioned day planner, reminding Claire that their practice utilized software that could perform the same function electronically, but she enjoyed the act of physically logging each session.  The solid heft of her Mont Blanc pen in her hand, a medical school graduation gift from her Uncle Lamb.  The scratch and grab of the nub as it bled black ink over virgin paper.  It was a tactile ceremony in a detached world.  Geillis would nod and then tell her she needed to get laid.

Speak of the devil, a sharp rap on her office door was followed by the appearance of her strawberry blonde head. blue eyes alight with mischief.

“Yer two o’clock is here.  Did ye need more time tae finish bolting down tha’ chaff ye call a salad, or can I show him in?”

“It’s kale,” she defended.  “It’s full of anti-oxidants.”

A disdainful scoff was the only response.

“Yes, Geil, please show Mister...” she glanced down at her planner, “...Fraser in, thank you.”

The tiny rectangle contained only a name, which meant this was their first appointment.  Geillis vetted all prospective patients, but Claire preferred to go into the first meeting blind, with no assumptions or pre-conceptions.  

She wondered what misfortune had caused Mr. Fraser to seek out her psychiatric services.  The death of a child, perhaps, or the end of an extra-marital affair.  People grieved for very different reasons and worked through or around that grief with a surprising variety of coping mechanisms.   Most called upon her practice in much the same way they would a breakdown truck when their car’s engine failed.  They simply wanted to get back on the road to happiness.

Despite the degrees and accreditations that decorated her office wall, Claire wasn’t certain such a thing was possible.  In her experience, grief was a phantom limb that never really went away.  The best one could hope for was to learn healthier ways of living with it.  

The sound of Geillis clearing her throat snapped her back to the present.

“Was there something else, Geil?”

“Och, no’ really.  Just, when yer considerin’ how tae thank me later on, remember tha’ my favourite stone is an emerald, that I prefer gold tae silver, but platinum is ne’er amiss.”

“What are you on about, Duncan?”  But her friend had already disappeared back into the reception area, leaving behind only the glow of her Cheshire smile.  Claire was shaking her head, bemused, when another knock rang out, this one considerably heavier than the first.

“Come in,” she called as she looked up.  And up.  And up some more.

The man who now practically filled her office door had to be at least six foot four, with powerful shoulders and a broad torso encased in a blue henley.  His nearly endless legs were likewise muscular, as testified by the stretch of his jeans across each thigh.  As if his physique wasn’t remarkable enough, he had a head of outrageously wavy red hair, worn long enough to graze the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck, but swept back from a high brow by a judicious use of product.  His face was angular in a pleasingly unique way, with a day or two’s growth of beard counter-balancing an almost youthful, earnest appearance.  But his most striking feature by far were his aquamarine eyes that shimmered like a tropical sea.  Eyes that were currently observing her with perplexity.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” a deep Scottish brogue inquired.  He pronounced it as though she were French.

“Yes,” she startled.  “That’s me.  And it’s pronounced Beecham.  Please, come in Mister Fraser.”  She shuffled a few items around her desk needlessly as she tried to compose herself.  Damn Geillis for not giving her a bit more warning that her newest client was some sort of fitness model.

“Thank ye,” he replied.  “An’ it’s pronounced Jamie, if ye please.”   She added wit to the growing list of the man’s attributes.

If anything, he grew even more impressive as he approached.  She could see he was nervous, although hiding it well.  His striking eyes darted about the room, trying to get a sense of his environment.  She indicated the well-upholstered armchair that sat to one side of her desk.

“Have a seat,” she invited.

With a surprising amount of grace for one so tall, he eased into the chair but didn’t lean back.  The fingers of his left hand tapped restlessly against his thigh.  She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.  This was a trick she had learned when she first started practicing psychiatry, but in this case it also allowed her to continue her appraisal.  He was, she concluded, the most attractive man she’d ever seen in the flesh.

“No couch,” he finally observed.

“No.  That’s a bit of a Hollywood trope, I’m afraid.  Lying prone in front of a stranger is hardly conducive to feeling at ease.”

He nodded his acceptance of her logic, but was otherwise silent.

“So,” she spoke at last, unable to wait him out, “what caused you to seek out counselling, Jamie?”  His name suited him, she thought as she spoke it for the first time.  Both boyish and imposing at once.

“I didna.  Twas my sister, Jenny, who insisted I see a doctor.”  His mobile mouth twisted into a grimace.  She could imagine the sibling discord that such a demand would have caused.  Whoever this Jenny was, she was made of strong stuff.  Unfortunately for her, a hostile patient would receive no benefit from merely visiting her office.  Counselling was a participatory process, and she could tell from the stubborn set of Jamie’s shoulders that he had no intention of participating.

“I see,” she said carefully.  “Well, it’s your time and your dime, Mr. Fraser.  This session lasts for forty-five minutes, and you’ve not been here for five.  There’s a carafe of hot water on the table over there, if you care for some tea.  Or you’re welcome to just enjoy that comfortable chair for another forty minutes.  I’ll be working on some administrative necessities.”

She turned her chair away from him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his gobsmacked expression.  He had clearly expected her to cajole and manipulate him into co-operating, but that simply wasn’t her style.

“I meant no offence, doctor.  I’m certain ye’re verra good at what ye do.  Tis only... well, Jenny is my older sister, ye ken.  She practically raised me.  And so ofttimes she treats me like a muckle-sized bairn, and no’ a man who’s capable of lookin’ after himself.”

As he spoke, Jamie leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, expressive hands gesturing in front of his face.  Hostile to the notion of counselling he might be, but he clearly wanted her to understand it wasn’t a slight.  As a physician, she had been trained to never take a patient’s reactions personally, but it didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the effort.

“No offence taken, Jamie.  If you don’t need my assistance, I’m happy for you.  That’s one less person hurting in the world.”

“I didna say I wasna hurting.  But I can handle it my own way.  I am handling it, that is,” he hurried to add.

Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and walked over to the small table where she kept an assortment of herbal teas and a tray of Geillis’ homemade biscuits.  Bending over, Jamie set about making himself some; chamomile by the smell of it.  The sound of spoon ringing off porcelain as he stirred in some honey made her smile, reminding her of Lamb and his obsession with the lost art of afternoon tea.

“Can I make ye a cup?”

The question was so unexpected, it took her a moment to process it.  The tea was there as a distraction for her patients, to give them something to do with their bodies as they worked through difficult emotions.  None of them had ever thought to offer her a reprieve as well.

“No, thank you.  I just finished lunch.”

He dipped a shortbread into the steaming tea, then ate it in a single bite.  Instead of sitting back down, he began to browse the framed certificates and photographs along the far wall as he sipped his tea.  With his back turned, her eyes dipped to admire his ass, which filled out his jeans perfectly.  When she caught herself, she gave her head a shake, appalled at her lack of professional detachment.  Maybe Geillis was right.  Maybe she really did need to get laid.

“How long have ye been a doctor?” Jamie asked without turning around.

“Ten years,” she replied.  “But I’ve only been a psychiatrist for the last two.”

It was a dangerous topic, and she blamed his ass for letting the words slip out.  Fortunately, his inquisitiveness took him in an entirely different direction.

“Were ye some kind of prodigy, then? Ye hardly seem old enough tae have yer own practice, let alone fer a decade.  If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” he added quickly, as though realizing what he’d just said.

“Not at all.  And you hardly seem young enough to be a, what was it? A muckle-sized bairn?”

As he turned to look her way, she understood the expression ‘shot-gun smile’ for the first time.  It spread across his face like a sunbeam, transforming what was already remarkable into a work of art.  If she hadn’t been sitting, she likely would have stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  Scrambling for something familiar to keep her from making a very grave fool of herself in front of this man, she clasped her clinical training with both hands.

“Are you and your sister close?” 

“Aye, when we’re no’ tryin’ not tae kill the other.  Our Mam died when I was only four, and with Da workin’ dawn til dark on the farm, Jenny was parent, teacher an’ playmate all rolled inta one.”

“You’re not from Edinburgh, then?”  Although what that had to do with his counselling, she hadn’t a clue. 

“Nah, I hail from a wee village in the Highlands ye’ve likely ne’er heard of called Broch Mordha.”  She shook her head to indicate she was indeed unfamiliar with it.  Jamie launched into a detailed description of the place, his hands sculpting the landscape out of thin air.  He obviously cared very deeply for his home, and she felt a twinge of jealousy, having never known that feeling of deep belonging  herself.

“And what brought you to Old Smoky?” she asked as he wound down, her interest piqued.  It was like slamming a lead door on his previously sunny disposition.

“Family obligations.” Said in such a way as to make it clear that no further words would be forthcoming on the topic.  She regretted her nosiness immediately, despite what it revealed about his emotional state.  Jamie was most certainly grieving something, but handling it he was not.

Before she could find a way back to the easy flow of conversation, a chime from her laptop indicated that the session was up.  She couldn’t bear to dismiss him without trying to set things right.

“Listen, Jamie, I understand that you only came here today to humour your sister, but I want you to consider something.  Whether we’re grieving or angry or jealous, or any destabilizing feeling, we’re often the worst surveyors of our own landscape.  Just like you can’t know your place on the sea without referencing the stars, it takes something external to ourselves to measure how far adrift we have become.  Your sister obviously loves you.  Ask yourself, what has she seen in you that prompted her to force you to seek help?”

They parted with cordial but muted goodbyes.  The door closed behind him, leaving Claire to stare at the blank rectangle in her planner that bore his name.  No coded symbols flowed from her pen.  When the door re-opened, it was Geillis, closing it firmly behind her.

“Weel, did I no’ tell ye?  Wee fox, tha’ one.  And he told me he liked my shortbread!”   Geillis said this as though it was some kind of sexual euphemism, which for all Claire knew, it was.

“Yes,” she replied distractedly.  “He’s very nice.”

“Nice!  Nice?  Tha’ man is tae nice what Wagyu is tae beef jerky.  Have ye completely lost yer senses, woman?”  

“Yes, well, he’s a patient, Geillis, as you well know.  And not one I’m likely to see again,” she added, acknowledging out loud what she already knew.

“Oh, no?” Geillis sing-songed.  “Thas’ strange, as he just made an appointment fer the same time next week.”

Claire’s eyes flew to where her friend looked on, smug as could be.

“Yer three o’clock called tae say she was runnin’ five minutes late.  I’ll leave ye tae think about yer... patient.”

Claire picked up her pen, trying to pull together something resembling a professional summary of her first appointment with Jamie.  Her mind replayed their interaction, but all she could remember was the way his eyes crinkled when he was listening attentively, the tidy half-moons of his fingernails, the seam of his jeans as it contoured his thigh, and the cymbal-crash in her chest that accompanied his smile.

Patient, she reminded herself.  Jamie Fraser is your patient. 

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Fourth Act: Kindness

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, angst, comedy, slow-burn

word count: 8.9k

Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin

Continuation of Third Act: Patience

A/N: WELL WELL WELL, we’ve found ourselves four acts deep and only three more to go. That much closer for our favourite demon boy to completing his goal right? 🤐🤐 Sorry it took so long as per usual T.T a lot has been going on but nevertheless, I’m still so grateful to all of your patience and love for the series so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Time to ramp things up again after this LOL Oh! Also to note, the switch between names is intentional (you’ll see what I mean). As always, I hope you’re all taking care of yourself.

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​

When you had woken up the next day, you were definitely a lot more relaxed, like the initial fear of having to confront the person who makes your body react involuntarily in funny ways has worn off. You’d laid in bed, taking the time to reflect on last night’s conversation and came to the conclusion that, no matter how short it was, you could’ve done worse. Granted, you had the safety net of talking to Jimin only through text message but baby steps! You just need to do a little readjusting, rearrange the new cards you’ve been dealt with so to speak. Even though you see your guardian demon in a more romantic way now, the last thing you wanted was for it to get out of control and potentially ruin the friendship you have with him.

You’d say you had a pretty good handle on that because much like last night, Jimin continues to text you every so other day. Most of the time, he asks about your well-being, of which you reply with your usual casualness (well, not like much goes on anyways). Then there are times where you and him have actual conversations. You don’t know how they start but whenever they do, it’s like coming home from a long day at work to discover that there was actually a tub of your favourite ice cream in the freezer all along — something to brighten the dull monotony of your life, a small sweetness for you to enjoy. You easily get lost in talking with him; the playful banter, the gibes, the jokes, even when the topics are meaningless, you find yourself grinning and giggling until your cheeks ache. Everything was still so natural and you’re proud to say, you’ve only slipped up twice! (The first time it was about his hair colour and you had mentioned black is probably your favourite look on him, the second was when you had mindlessly asked if he was ever going to stop by any time soon to visit because well—! It’s been a while right? Not like you miss him…that much.)

“Whatchu grinning at?”

The voice calling out to you makes you abruptly shoot your head up from being buried in your phone, eyes meeting Jaehee’s from across the table. She’s got a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a slight quirk to her eyebrows, that’s enough for you to know that she’s caught you red-handed in one of your giddier moments. Cheeks flushing, you clear your throat and swiftly send a text back before placing the phone down on the table again, screen blackened to hide from the curious gaze prodding at you.

“Just…A meme my friends sent me…” You lie, stuffing a spoonful of fried rice into your mouth. Jaehee lets out a huff at your answer, shoulders sagging and an unimpressed look taking over her face in replacement.

“Uh huh? Just a meme?” Jaehee sounds wholly unconvinced, punctuated when she also adds, “You’re not doing the face that goes with it.”

“What face?”

“The one where you go like this.”

She demonstrates by squishing back her neck until there’s a slight double chin and then curls her lips into a dopey looking smile while staring down at her own phone. The sight makes you snort unattractively, followed by a short guffaw that has you covering your mouth. Jaehee joins in laughing with you.

“I thought that’s the face I always make no matter what I’m looking at.” You defend.

“Nah, you practically had heart eyes just now, and you got like this Disney princess smile on.” Jaehee counters, leaning her elbows onto the table. “So, is it Julien or is it Julien?”

“What makes you so confident it’s Julien?” You ask with an incredulous laugh.

“So it’s not Julien? Cuz if it’s not I would actually be very disappointed.”

That earns a light scoff from you, like as if you even have enough interest to pursue someone else, let alone the capabilities to try to reel them in, “Well, no, as if—“

“So Julien—“

“Jaehee!” You exclaim, feeling particularly bashful at being called out so suddenly — since when did you have a look when you’re texting someone? Does it show that much? “Why, what would you say if it was him?”

Your roommate grins slyly in a very Cheshire Cat manner and you swear she’s radiating an aura of excitement, wiggling in her seat as she asks, “Are you guys finally a thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow, almost in disbelief; at what you’re not even sure yourself but it leaves you feeling a little crestfallen. “I— no we’re not really a thing. I mean….” You cut yourself off, not sure where you want to go with this or if you’re even ready to have that talk yet so you sigh out, “It’s complicated.”

It might sound like a dumb reason to others, but you’d rather not involve your most trusted friend into something you’re still unsure about. You don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill — get her invested in your boy troubles when she’s probably dealing with much more important life problems. At the admission, Jaehee’s playful grin slips and she tilts her head, puzzled. “Oh, really? I thought you guys were since….”

She trails off but you don’t need her to finish to know what she was implying. You let out a sigh again, shrugging and going back to spooning more rice on your plate in an attempt to brush it off.

“I don’t know…. I just— I’m still trying to work it out I guess.”

Jaehee watches you silently for a moment, taking in your dampened mood with concern before she settles back into her seat. “Damn, well if you need someone to vent then I’m here for you.” Pausing, she adds on with a small smile, “You know I’m always rooting for you.”

You can’t help but smile in return at her unwavering support. “Thanks Jaehee.”

Dinner passes on in companionable silence. Your years of friendship and living together have proven that you’re both in tune with each other; knowing and respecting each other’s boundaries as well as readily give support without having to say anything. It’s something you’re grateful for when it comes to Jaehee and is especially comforting because at least you know that the only pressure you’d be feeling is from yourself.

And that’s how you find yourself, staring aimlessly at your ceiling while lying in bed, deep in thought. The conversation with Jaehee, although it was brief, brought to light that, contrary to your beliefs, you’ve actually sunken yourself deeper into the rabbit hole. You’re no longer in that safe zone where if worse comes to worse, you’d be able to handle swallowing your feelings for your guardian demon and, maybe after a few days of sulking, would be able to accept that it was never meant to be. It’d hurt but you think it would at least hurt less; you’d be able to cope with it.

But before you realized it, your feelings have only grown and solidified from all the times you’ve texted that they have nowhere to go but out. You actually think if Jimin were to tell you he’s leaving the next day right now, you would have a bit of a mental and emotional breakdown.

So much for having a handle on things.

You bring your hands up to rub your face, letting out a little groan to yourself. As if sensing your distress, your phone comes to life with a buzz and a chime. It would’ve been a welcoming distraction had it not been a message from the very person who’s already occupying a huge chunk of your thoughts. So does it mean that you’re going to ignore it in favour of trying to get some peace?

“Did you have a good dinner?”

You’re typing out a response and hitting send because who were you kidding?

“I did! Good ol’ fried rice :)”

“…was it one of those days?”

“Hey! I enjoy eating fried rice once in a while >:( AND fyi, I had a sunny-side up egg on top so it’s not all as bad as it sounds.”

“Oh, how fancy of you~ “

(You roll your eyes as if he's saying it right in front of you).

“Okay chill out Mr. Bougie, I don’t need your judgment here.

I’m a simple woman.

I will eat anything as long as it’s edible.”

“Easy to please huh?

I quite like to see that for myself.”

You had to put your phone down for a hot second because you’re short circuiting. Why did your thoughts go that way? Did you ask for it to go that way? On second thought, maybe it’s you who needs to chill out.

A buzz catches your attention again and against your frantically beating heart and heated face, you go to check the message.



“Are you in bed now?”


You actually take a deep breath in and release it, trying to get your nerves under control but even so, the tips of your fingers still feel too jittery as you type.

“Yeah, just getting comfortable.”

“Good, you should get some sleep.

It worries me sometimes how late you stay up.

Makes me think you’re secretly a vampire or something.”

A snort leaves you and you shake your head at his accusations as you reply back almost instantly.

“I can’t help if I’m a night owl okay? And what would you do if I was a vampire? :O”

“Hmm….

Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Maybe it’s because you’re so lost in conversations with him that something takes over, suddenly having the urge to get a rile out of him like the way he’s so good at doing with you that before you know it, you’re goading him on.

“Why? Would you nail me with a stake?”

Exhilaration courses through you, heart beat pounding against your chest like a beating drum as you wait. To your surprise, there’s a lull in the time he responds and it makes you preen a little, thinking for once you’ve managed to push his buttons instead of it being the other way around. It makes you anticipate his answer even more. Finally after a few minutes, a new text pops up. The words make you choke on air and you barely manage to smother the sounds of your loud coughs.

“I’d do more than just nail you with a stake darling.”

Once you’ve regained your breath, your face is absolutely on fire and your mind reeling. How do you even respond to that? Actually, you don’t even think you can — you’re here trying to one up a demon in his own game and all it got you was your foot in your mouth. You shouldn’t have expected anything less. As you’re panicking about where to even begin trying to play this entire thing off, a new message comes through.

“Like telling you that you should go to sleep or else you’ll actually start looking like the undead.

Sweet dreams, cherub. I’ll talk to you some other time.”

You wish him a good night in return, still very much in a daze at what just happened. Your hand flops back against your mattress and you just… lay there; no thoughts, head empty. Well, maybe one thought.

You really got it bad for him.

-

The streets of downtown are busy for a weekday, bustling with people who have places to go and others to see but considering the time, it’s not at all surprising. It’s approximately half past twelve in the afternoon, the general time where many who work in the office would be taking their lunches and with the convenience of the downtown area, many prefer to simply eat out. Whether it’s grabbing a quick bite or sitting down and enjoying a full service in the company of their co-workers, there’s a place that caters to everyone’s needs. It’s a time where everyone is eager to be relieved from their busy schedules and being cooped up in a cubicle for five hours straight before having to go back and push through the remaining hours of their workday.

It’s a very clockwork thing, something Jaehee knows all too well because she’s among the masses that’s a part of it yet as she watches her peers from her window seat in the cafe, she feels like the stranger looking from the outside in.

Almost three years ago, Jaehee had been like any other graduate fresh out of college; bright-eyed and ready to start their life as an ‘adult’ which meant getting a ‘real’ job. She had been so determined, vowed that gone were the days of being stuck with a minimum wage and she’s finally going to put her schooling to use. Of course, it wasn’t easy, half of the battle was just the interviews alone but over time, they start to affect her (as any normal person who’s been rejected over twenty times would, and in the form of ghosting no less).

So naturally when she had gone into that interview for a junior position in a rather small business, expecting no less only to get an offer? That was the olive branch Jaehee had been searching for in a metaphorical sea of pine trees. She accepted it without any further questions asked, the prospect of her first ‘real’ job overruling any doubts she would have had. A rookie mistake on her part, one that only really started to show once she was already in too deep.

At first, it was the small things; things that might’ve gotten under her skin at the time but very easily, Jaehee could push aside without thinking much of it again. After all, not like she expects this place to be perfect right off the bat. As long as they upheld proper HR codes, Jaehee didn’t mind that this was her humble beginnings. She had the mindset to work hard at her job, build her experience and then if things didn’t work out here, she’ll find somewhere else. So that’s what she did, she rolled with the punches every time and before she knew it, a year had passed.

But as time went on, more and more things came up; how the jobs she’s been tasked to hire candidates for always end up having little to no benefits in the long run, how because of that, they never stay for more than half a month at a time, how the inappropriate behaviour of some employees fly under the radar because it’s considered ‘not serious enough’ to be addressed, and how despite having worked for the company for years, her co-worker was never given a single pay raise no matter how well she did her job. It all made her uneasy.

Soon, telling herself to stick it out for just another year became harder that it quickly changed to just another month until here she is now, barely scraping it to three years and reduced to holding onto the single thread that’s still keeping her here — money, and even that is starting to wear thin.

As much as she hated to admit it, Jaehee has found herself trapped between a rock and hard place and she’s at a complete lost on what to do. The heavy sigh she releases felt more like it tore through her entire being, head slumping against the glass; maybe she should’ve hit up a bar rather than a cafe because she really could use a drink right now, happy hour times be damned.

Just as Jaehee considers going through with the idea, eyes scanning across the street to see if there were actually any bars or pubs close by, her gaze lands on an unexpected figure. At first, she didn’t think it was him, already hard to tell because of the black surgical mask he wore covering the lower half of his face while a pair of shades cover his eyes but the longer she watched him, the more sure she was; if there was one thing that stuck with Jaehee amongst the few times she’s met him, it was that he had an aura — he was one of those people you just knew looked attractive even from behind, which makes it all the more curious for Jaehee to see him about to walk into the same cafe she’s currently sitting in.

She watches as he comes to stand in the queue, head bowed and more focused on the phone in his hand while the other was stuffed into the pocket of his fitted dark wash jeans. Such an understated gesture but already out of the corner of Jaehee’s eye, she catches some customers looking his way with interest. The sight makes her stifle her chuckle; thoroughly amused at seeing what she had deducted earlier first hand. It’s only after he turns to head towards the self-serving counter, a medium sized coffee cup in his hand, does Jaehee think there might be a chance he’ll notice her and as if feeling a particularly steady pair of eyes on him, she sees his chin raise slightly more towards her direction.

So, with a slight wave of her hand and a smile, Jaehee makes herself known officially to the taller male, his name slipping out in a bright greeting, “Julien!”

She sees him momentarily pause, then tilt his head before he nods in acknowledgement, casually grabbing a sleeve and a lid for his cup. Once he does, he begins to stride toward Jaehee’s table, stopping short just beside the unoccupied seat across from her.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here.” He says in a light drawl as he pulls down his mask to sip at his coffee. What luck.

“I found this place to have the best coffee around my office.”

“Oh, so you work around here?” Julien sounds genuinely surprised, even takes a brief glance out onto the streets before seemingly coming to accept that possibility. “On lunch then?”

Jaehee can’t help the wry smile that makes its way onto her lightly tinted lips, shoulders heaving and the reply she gives leaves her in the form of a tired sigh. “Yeah….For now.”

At this close distance now, Jaehee can see Julien’s eyes faintly through the tinted colours of his shades, how they seem to observe her over the white rim of the coffee cup he has gingerly grazing his slightly parted plump lips, mid-drink.

One sweep of her form tells all he needs to know, so used to picking up the signs of a troubled human — a skill he’s honed over the many years of living to easier prey and exploit the vulnerable into falling victim to his dark temptations. But he’s not here to lead her astray (he thinks he’d have his head chopped off before that, courtesy of one particular gremlin he knew and adore). Besides that, he may or may not have a favour to ask of Jaehee.

“Well, you sure sound eager to get back to work.” He chuckles sarcastically. Jaehee lets out a quiet huff of air through her nose, crossing her arms as she further slumps into her seat.

“I have yet to honestly meet a person who actually likes going to work.” She mumbles sardonically, making the corner of his mouth twitch. Julien takes the opportunity to slide into the seat finally, tilting his head inquisitively in a way that reminds Jaehee of a puppy….or a cat…. Puppy-cat.

“You sound especially loathsome to go back.” Julien starts casually, placing his coffee cup down in front of him and after tapping his ring clad fingers against it, he continues with a sly smirk, “Smells like tea to me.”

Jaehee laughs, shaking her head as she also takes the time to sip more from her own cup. “Well, no! I mean…” Her voice trails off and her smile falters a little, like the gravity of the situation is settling in on her and there’s really no hope in trying to deflect with humour. Jimin waits patiently, watching the conflicting emotions flit through Jaehee’s expressions and to coax her into deluging more on what’s been bothering her, he smiles reassuringly.

“I’m all ears.”

She pauses to regard him for a moment and seeing his openly friendliness makes the last of her resolve crumble. How lucky you are that you managed to snag a catch like Julien; now she swears if you two don’t end up together then maybe romance is actually dead.

Pulling out from her thoughts, Jaehee brushes aside some loose strands of hair before she rests her chin in her hand, looking out the window to see a group of office workers enjoying the patio weather in the restaurant across the street, throwing their head back in boisterous laughter. She feels envious. With one last sigh, she speaks.

“Work…has been getting unbearable, to say the least and I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Julien hums. “Overbearing manager?”

“It’s everything really; most of the people there, the environment, the job itself…. It all just piled up and now every time I go to work it’s soul draining. I feel so anxious and…uncomfortable. All the time.”

“Have you…tried bringing those issues up with your reporting manager?”

Another heavy sigh leaves Jaehee, shaking her head. “I tried once or twice but they either brush it off or do the bare minimum to fix it. It doesn’t last long usually.”

Julien leans back against his chair, languidly folding his legs so that his ankle rests on the top of one knee. It makes for an impressive view of his insane body proportions that Jaehee still can’t believe can exist on a person; the long sleeve, dark grey and black knit tee is half tucked into his pants, giving a peek of his cinched waistline while legs that seem to extend endlessly, streamlined to a pair of black Chelsea boots. She swears Julien isn’t the tallest male she’s encountered (her own boyfriend Jason might actually be a head taller than he is) but somehow, sitting like this, you would think this man is actually seventy percent legs.

“Why don’t you quit then? You don’t sound happy being there anyways.”

His blunt suggestion takes her aback that for a moment she thinks he’s joking but he remains unfazed, completely serious. It’s a pretty obvious thing to do Jimin thinks, yet Jaehee is here looking at him as if he just told her to launch herself into space to escape from her problems. Times like these he’s reminded of how sometimes humans aren’t always so sensible. After the words have sunk in, Jaehee begins to piece together her thoughts.

“That’s…. Yeah that’s a given huh? But I just— I don’t know Julien.” The last few words come out in a sort of defeated whine, the same time Jaehee nearly slumps her head entirely onto the table in front of her and Jimin subtly takes his coffee cup to hold in the safety of his lap instead. “I want to, god I want to. At some point I even tried looking at other places and submitting resumes but I never get replies back and this place, as shitty as it is, has decent pay. If I leave… I don’t know what that would mean for me and Y/N — especially Y/N.”

Jimin sits up a little straighter at the mention of you.

“She’s still in school and also working too. I don’t want to add onto her stress load by putting ourselves in a financially tough place.” Jaehee buries her hands into her hair, mussing up the long locks into disarray with quite frankly the most severe, pinched expression of trouble Jimin has ever seen on someone. It ages her almost ten years before his eyes. He won’t lie, this isn’t exactly the kind of woes he thought he would be hearing from your roommate. Originally, he had planned to entertain her for a bit, slip in that favour he has and then be on his way. But seeing and hearing the extent of her problems now, he can’t help feeling a little sympathetic because in spite of the amount of distress it’s causing your roommate, she still thinks of you, even going as far as to consider bearing with it.

Though he might not know her well, it’s clear to Jimin that she cares about you a lot.

“Does Y/N know about what’s been happening with your workplace?” He asks carefully. Jaehee blinks before her cheeks begin to colour lightly in embarrassment and she ducks her head to try and hide it, as if just realizing how much of a mess she’s become in front of someone who she’s supposed to be keeping up good impressions for. She clears her throat awkwardly, moving to smooth out her hair again by combing through the strands and bringing her hands down to rest on the nape of her neck.

“Yeah…I’ve vented to her a couple of times about it, when things got too stressful so I think she has a good idea of what’s going on.”

“And…has she ever suggested you to quit and find a new place to work?”

Jaehee pauses in thought and then shakes her head. “Not outright I don’t think. She’s always hinted at it but she never pushes me.”

Jimin makes a noncommittal noise, smiling a little to himself — that sure sounds like you; considerate maybe even to a fault, which is why the next thought that comes to mind makes him feel disquieted.

The sudden silence from the male has her finally looking up to see what the cause of it was, only to find him looking rather bothered, deep in thought with brows pinched and a slight frown tugging down the corner of his lips. It makes her retrace her words, wondering if she had said something wrong and just as she goes to ask, he speaks up.

“Listen Jaehee, I might not…know Y/N well enough,” He starts, mindful of his wording, “but I’m confident that I know, and you know, Y/N really cares for you as much as you care for her, which is probably why she doesn’t want to push you to make a really big life changing decision. And that’s just the thing….”

He inclines his head, his attention suddenly focused on Jaehee and the weight of his gaze pierces through even the tint of his sunglasses. It has Jaehee straightening upright in her seat, involuntarily bracing herself from something she’s not quite sure of.

“She cares about you — your happiness matters to her more than some shitty job that pays well.”

Again, Jaehee is shocked into a stupor for the second time today by this man, his frankness so unapologetic but also from the amount of conviction he speaks concerning you. It was….highly endearing and she had to catch herself from grinning, choosing instead to stow away this little tidbit of information (that she may or may not share to you later). But more than that, Jaehee could swear that he even sounded the slightest bit defensive?

“So even if you quit now, I highly doubt Y/N would hold it against you.” Julien says, and in a much softer undertone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehee, “She’s not the type of person to do that.”

She feels strangely touched, so much that all she can do is blink, speechless. When words fail to form, Jaehee lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, choosing to resign to the fact of the matter; Julien is right about pretty much everything and she expresses as much.

“You’re right, she definitely wouldn’t do that. I guess I’m just…scared?” Jaehee wrings her fingers anxiously. “The guilt would eat me up if things go bad for us, all because I quit my job.”

She hears him hum and as she looks up towards him, he’s nodding. “That’s pretty understanding, but is staying and sacrificing yourself really going to be worth it? Gambling with your well-being isn’t something you should take so lightly.” He shifts in his seat and continues in a gentler tone, “You have the right to think about it and come to your own decision, I can’t stop you from doing that. For what it’s worth though, you deserve better and you’re surrounded by a lot of people who wouldn’t hesitate to help you.” There’s a brief pause where he seems to catch himself, then as if making up his mind however, he mumbles, “Including me.”

Jaehee can’t help her eyes widening a bit at the declaration and she nearly breaks out into a full on grin when she sees that the dark haired male in front of her has turned his attention to the window, raising his cup to sip on his coffee in what would’ve passed as a nonchalant manner if it weren’t for the slight pink colouring creeping up his neck or the way he refuses to meet her eyes anymore. For his sake, she discreetly bites her lip to manage the urge to an appreciative smile.

“Thanks Julien, for everything. I didn’t mean to unload all of my problems onto you like that but you’ve helped me see a clearer picture on everything.”

Julien shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “It’s nothing really, though you should probably sit down and tell Y/N all of this instead of me.”

Jaehee nods humming in agreement, already feeling lighter than she had been when she first sat down in this cafe. It’s made her change her perspective into a positive one, one where she doesn’t feel so trapped about her situation. So when she notices the growing number of office patrons dwindling and leaving from their respective lunch gatherings, she’s not as anxious at the prospect of going back. As if on cue, the man across from her takes a glance down at his watch (an elegant little thing; the black leather strap standing out against a pale wrist looked so flattering that Jaehee thought idly about maybe gifting Jason the same style and how nice it would look on him too…..until she balks with the realization that it was Chanel and the idea was immediately discarded).

“Looks like you’re due to head back.” Jimin remarks, noting the time before glancing up at Jaehee. She blinks, as if snapping out of a daze and it makes him quirk an eyebrow but then brushes it off; she must still be digesting everything that happened.

“A-Ah yeah…I should probably head back…soon…” He nearly snorts at the way your roommate is obviously stalling for time, not that he would blame her now that he knows what’s been going on. But with it, he thinks now is as good a time as any.

“Hey, before you go,” He starts smoothly to catch Jaehee’s attention. She perks up, inclining her head to him. “You think you can do me a small favour?”

Jimin’s not entirely surprised to see Jaehee nod expectantly, eager to accept without even hearing him out first. Oh well, makes his job a whole lot easier.

“Yeah what’s up?”

“This might sound a little strange but can you make sure Y/N…doesn't go off and do something she might regret?” He asks, trying to be as vague yet convincing as he can because if he wants to put his plan into action, Jimin can’t have you possibly seeking him out once you become too suspicious of his absent and blatant excuses on why he can’t come by. It would needlessly put you in very dangerous situations but with the help of Jaehee, he could prevent it or at the very least, stall until he’s able to pull himself together more. Even in this moment, he’s beginning to feel pinprick needles crawl up the back of his neck, the effort to keep a cool facade has him taking deep, steadying breaths. He sees Jaehee’s expression scrunch up in confusion, blinking and he doesn’t need to hear her question when it’s so clear on her face.

“I might be gone for a while, nothing too concerning so I don’t want her to worry.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t tell her that yourself?” Jaehee points out, still very much confused as she crosses her arms. Jimin responds with a well placed wry smile, one he hopes doesn’t look more like a grimace than anything though he can’t help but feel that’s the case. It doesn’t matter, the discomforting and all too familiar stabbing has spread past his shoulder blades, making his skin break out into cold sweat. He gets up, ready to take his leave before he unwillingly keels over, the action startling Jaehee.

“It’s…It’s complicated Jaehee. Sorry I can’t tell you more but I promise it’s nothing serious. Just…” Jimin hates how out of breath he sounds, swallowing as he rushes to get everything out. “Take care of her?”

So caught off guard by his sudden sense of urgency, Jaehee stutters, “Y-Yeah of course. Julien are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t— ” She stands, about to take a step towards the taller male but he immediately retreats back and she halts.

“I’m fine Jaehee. I have to leave now, I hope to see you around.”

Julien takes off before she has the time to think of something else to say, long strides easily carrying him out of the cafe and disappearing down the side street.

Jaehee’s frozen, eyebrows remaining furrowed and mind racing in trying to process what’s taken over Julien just now. Furthermore, she starts to realize that maybe the growing clamminess of his complexion she saw earlier wasn’t a trick of the light after all. Now she’s confused and worried. What was he trying to hide? Unfortunately she doesn’t have time to linger on it, a quick glance at her phone lets her know that she’s already running five minutes late so with no other choice, she exhales heavily, squaring her shoulders and prepares to trek back to her hell hole of an office with the hope that it will be for the last time.

-

You felt it coming; another yawn that threatens to tear your whole mouth open and you just barely manage to stifle it. You’ve lost count on how many times you’ve yawned within the hour, each time it leaves your eyes watery and you swear what little energy you had would be expelled along with it.

On most days, this wouldn’t be anything new. It was just your luck that you get scheduled with an opening shift so in combination with your already atrocious sleeping schedule, your usual perpetually tired state is doubled. However these days, there’s something else added into the mix.

Your restless nights have since been plagued with thoughts of one reoccurring demon, and not the kind that people would imagine — figments of your own imagination conjured up from the darkest recesses of the mind to torment you — no, you’re the one who has a literal demon tormenting your thoughts and the worse part is he’s probably not even aware of it!

Clearly, you’ve underestimated yourself, didn’t anticipate for the rug to be pulled out from under your feet so quickly like that. You thought you could make nice with being in a one-sided crush forever when in reality, you’ve crossed that point of no return already and now all you want to do is confess your feelings, rip that bandage off once and for all.

You want to, but….

You’re still scared deep down. What was the lesser evil? Confess and be rejected or refrain and live not knowing? Both sound like complete agony to you yet in the end, you lack the strength to do neither.

And what’s more pressing is that time is running out for you. Above your chaotic, never-ending dilemma, the reminder stays steadily in the back of your mind like ticking of a clock, muted at first, only now it’s louder and clearer than ever — your inevitable crocodile encroaching to devour the rest of you, the ever fearful Hook.

You need to make a decision and soon before it’s beyond your control.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice the end of your shift until your manager bumps into you, still in the aisle absentmindedly folding and refolding the t-shirts. 


“Girl, what are you still doing here? It’s like way past one-thirty, you need to leave!” Rachel laughs, nudging the shirts out of your hands.

“O-Oh, really?” You reply, a bit dazed but nevertheless, thankful. “I’ll see you next shift then.”

She waves and you scurry off, heading to the backroom to throw off your uniform vest, clock out and grab your things to leave. One good thing about having an early morning shift is at least you get to leave by afternoon and with the weather so nice lately, the trip back won’t add to dampen your mood.

For good measures, you even decide to stop by Starbucks to get yourself some well deserved ice coffee. The barista greeting you with a bright smile when you make it to the front counter.

“Hello, what can I get you for today?”

“Can I have a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew?”

“For sure! Anything else?”

Your mouth opens to say that's all but then you stop, thinking to yourself briefly and then instead reply, “And one venti Very Berry Hibiscus Refresher.”

The barista nods, happy to punch in your additional order and that’s when you confirm then that that will be all. You move off to the side after you pay to wait for your drinks. You pull out your phone as you wait and absently wonder if you should text Jaehee about leaving her drink in the fridge when she gets home.

Lately, you’ve noticed Jaehee’s work schedule has become more sporadic than what you’re used to seeing; sometimes she’s home around three in the afternoon and other times you think she didn’t even go to work that day. Of the times she’s gone before you wake up, you find that she either has gone to work or was actually at Jason’s for the entire night. You don’t question it much, already getting the feeling that the cause is her troubles at work and she’s aware that you’re aware of it too, if the perplexed looks you shoot her whenever you see her on those occasions were anything to go by.

If this is Jaehee taking time off to simply get away and rest mentally, you’re not against it (in fact, you’re surprised that she hasn’t done so sooner). Regardless, you hope she’ll feel better and though it’s not much, you’ll lend her your ears and shoulder…..and maybe a large dose of her favourite drink.

Your name gets called and you go to collect your orders, then set off home. You arrive without further incident, enjoying the nice weather as you go. When you step through your door, you’re mildly surprised to find that your roommate in question isn’t home so you toe off your shoes and head to the kitchen to drop off her drink in the fridge.

After refreshing yourself by taking off your makeup and changing into more comfortable clothes, you decide to start prepping for dinner. Tonight’s menu is an amalgamation of things — you plan for chicken quesadilla with sour cream as the main dish but after spying a bag of frozen Korean dumplings and spicy rice cake, your stomach demands them to be served up as well. As they say, comfort food is always the best food.

You’ve just about finished grilling the last of the chicken breast and peppers to be used for the quesadilla when you hear the door unlock. Without having to check, you know it’s Jaehee and no sooner you turn towards the kitchen threshold, you see her trotting in.

“Hey.” She greets, doing little to conceal the tiredness in her voice and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, welcome home. You should go wash up and I’ll have the food ready when you’re done.”

Jaehee smiles gratefully at you before heading off in the direction of her room. You finish grilling up the remaining dumplings when Jaehee reappears again, bare faced and comfy like you are. As she seats herself at the small little table, you serve the quesadilla and dumplings first, letting the spicy rice cake simmer on low heat a little longer on the stove.

Looking at Jaehee now, you can’t help but to notice how worn she looks, dark bags beginning to form under her eyes even when she lets out a satisfied groan from taking her first bite.

“God I’ve been craving this all day.” She mumbles around a mouthful.

“You’re telling me.” You nod between chews. “As soon as I saw the bag of dumplings in the freezer, I had to make some. Same thing with the spicy rice cake, it’s been so long.”

“And that’s why we’re still roommates for so long.”

You laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly; your palette and overall love for food is what made your bond so strong, amongst other important things. You continue to eat in amicable silence, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company as part of unwinding for the day though a part of you itched to ask after Jaehee, to check in on how she’s really holding up. You only hold off for the time being to let her have her fill and forget about it, if just for a moment.

Eventually, by the time you’re both making quick work on the spicy rice cakes do you retrieve her little pick-me-up drink and wordlessly place it in front of her.

“Oh my god, girl.” She sighs out happily and you’ve never seen her light up so brightly in an instance. Your smiles matches hers as you take your seat again to pick at the remaining rice cakes.

“Knowing your workplace, you look like you could use it.”

After taking a hearty gulp, Jaehee places her drink down, a quiet pensive look taking over her expression. You can clearly see the thoughts swirling inside of her head, debating with herself but you wait patiently until she’s ready, if she’s ready. When you think the moment has passed, Jaehee finally speaks.

“Actually, I’m quitting.”

The shock of it still gets you even when you knew at some point this would happen. It was long overdue in your opinion, something you’ll admit you wished would happen because considering everything, you never understood how Jaehee had managed to put up with it for so long. You worried it would run her into the ground sooner than later and despite all the talks of leaving, they remain just that; talks. So over time, you choose to not push out of respect but remain firm in your beliefs.

Sitting up a little straighter, you swallow the chewy rice cake and nod approvingly. “Wow, for real? Like, you turned in your two weeks notice and everything?”

Jaehee breathes a laugh, sounding very much chagrined. “I think I did a little more than that.” At the inquisitive tilt of your head, she elaborates. “I sat down to talk to Ethan, my manager and I just…broke down and told him everything. Like, everything — how I felt about lying to candidates for a job that isn’t even worth leaving their current one for, how I don’t have even the basic benefits working for the company, and just feeling…awful coming into work every day.”

She inhales, “And then two days after that, he called me into his office and told me he was letting me go.”

Now that was shocking news to you. You blink incredulously, “After all that, he had the nerve to fire you? That just shows how much he cares.”

Jaehee can only nod, bemused herself but not entirely bothered. “Yeah, I mean I would be more mad about it if it wasn’t for the fact that I found out the company is literally a pyramid scheme.”

Your mouth drops without meaning to and you’re rendered speechless; definitely wasn’t expecting that. Jaehee lets a bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Yeah, exactly but it all makes sense now and it’s made me feel better about my choice. Now I’m just mad that I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Well I’m all the more glad for you.” You say, “Fuck that guy.”

Your remark earns you a half smile from Jaehee, one that is more morose than it is mirthful. It fades as quickly into something more serious, eyes downcast and fingers idly tracing the perspiration that’s gathered on her cup. “I’m happy I don’t have to work at that place anymore, but I don’t know what we’re gonna do about money from now on.”

She says it so sombrely that you might think she’s telling you the world is ending tomorrow. Okay, that might be a stretch but you do understand where Jaehee’s concerns are coming from. You’re not gonna lie and say Jaehee’s job didn’t play a huge role in helping you both pay rent and live well enough that you didn’t have to constantly worry about living from pay cheque to pay cheque. You’re lucky to be on a partial scholarship, but even then, you had close calls on paying rent on time. There’s a lot up in the air now, no doubt there’s gonna be a lot to change and though it’s worrisome, you find yourself not caring because more than anything, you’re happy for Jaehee and that’s something to worth celebrating instead.

“Yeah, we’re probably gonna have to do a lot adjusting once the time comes but really Jaehee, I’m just happy that you don’t have to work that awful job anymore.” You say, reassuring. “We can worry about all of that when it comes.”

Jaehee glances up then, staring at you as if searching for hints of a bravado but when she sees how genuine you are for her, she smiles and it reaches her eyes fully.

“You sure? Last chance.”



“I’m positive. Hell, I’ll even put in a good word for you and who knows, we might end up working together.”

She’s snorts, shaking her head. “Thanks, I’ll consider it. At this point I think even a retail job would be so much better than what that was.” You purse your lips, considering the thought but agree in the end because as much as you loathed your job, at least there were moments where you could have fun with your co-workers; shit talking customers and managers is always a great way to pass time and bond.

You recline back in your seat as the atmosphere transitions into something lighter, like a weight has cleared the air and sip lightly at your ice coffee while Jaehee does the same with her drink. When she finishes it, she exhales, visibly more relaxed.

“So,” She begins, “what about you? Are you still talking with Julien?”

You blink, clearing your throat and scratch your cheek before answering distractedly, “Um…Yeah, like…on and off?”

Truth be told, the last message you sent to him was four nights ago. They were nothing special, just your usual chats as a way for you to talk about your day with sprinkles of bantering in between and maybe….a little flirting? Your head spins at the thought, butterflies erupting in your gut and even though these chats reduce you to a sputtering mess, they’re the things you look forward to the most at the end of the day. Which makes it worrying that you’ve noticed how they don’t last as long as they used to. You try not to let it bother you too much, thinking that perhaps it was just the insatiable craving for interactions that comes with realizing your feelings for someone.

And a hint of desperation in knowing that he may soon leave.

Maybe it’s the nature of the conversations that has taken place tonight or maybe you too needed to unload a bit off your chest, but you find yourself confessing your deepest worries too, finally speaking them into existence.

“Lately, I….I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” You struggle, stopping to try and find the right words but you think you won’t have such luck. Swallowing, you power on through the best you can anyways. “I don’t know when it happened, hell I didn’t think it would even turn out this way. I thought all we could be is just friends but then….” You scoff a laugh at yourself, “I caught feelings, and now I don’t know what to do with them.”

Jaehee takes in your words across from you with a serious air though it doesn’t quite mask how ecstatic she is at the news. The sight makes you feel better, although you wished you could match her enthusiasm.

“Are you planning on telling him then?”

The sigh you let out nearly takes everything out of you and you slump against your chair, nearly sinking down to your waist.

“That’s the thing; I don’t know if I should? Like, am I reading too much into this? Or like, maybe he—“ It pains you to say it, voice coming out small but you can’t rule out the possibility, “Maybe he might not look at it the same way I do. I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I misread everything. And what’s worse is that….He’s…going away soon so I just feel like….It might not be a smart idea after all but at the same time I just….” You inhale from running out of breath mid-rant, only to finish off with a helpless, “I really like him….”

God you must sound pathetic…

“Okay first off, I highly doubt that’s the case.” Jaehee jumps in with surprising speed. “From what I know, it doesn’t seem like it’s just you. I…I actually ran into him not too long ago during lunch at work…”

“You did?” You sit up at that, interested.

“Yeah, we sat down and I was feeling so overwhelmed that day that I ended up telling him about work too. He told me how I should pluck up the courage to quit because I deserve better and to be honest, one of the reasons why I didn’t want to to do it was because I was scared that it would put us in a tough spot, especially with you being in school and all. I didn’t want to pressure you with anything because of something that was on me. But he wouldn’t have any of it,” She lets out a quiet laugh with a shake of her head, recalling the conversation. “He said that it doesn’t matter because you’d support me all the way, that you care more about my happiness than some job that pays well.”

Jaehee shoots you a wide smile, taking one of your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And he was right. He didn’t have any doubts that you wouldn’t have my back and…he even offered to help out if things get bad for us when he didn’t need to. I don’t know about you but that just tells me how much he thinks and cares about you.”

“If I’m gonna be honest, aside from BTS, I’ve never seen you really feel for someone so strongly before, and that has to mean something. I can see how much you really care about him too. So I think you should tell him, maybe even more so before he leaves because I don’t want to see you regret not telling him instead. I know it's gonna eat you up.”

Now you’re the one overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions running through you at once; touched, assured, surprised to hear that Jimin had been the one to console Jaehee like that, and to hear first hand how supportive he is of her and you…

Something surges in your chest, the feeling almost leaving you breathless but you’re beginning to feel invigorated, more sure of yourself. It gives you hope, a dangerous thing but you want to so badly believe that there’s something there, something more.

“You…really think so?”

She gives you a pointed look, stare unwavering and that alone is more than enough. “One hundred percent, you never know until you try but I think he’s just as into you. And if by the off chance that I’m wrong…I’ll be there for you, whether to pig out on a carton of ice cream or to beat somebody up. I gotchu girl, like how you got me.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing Jaehee’s hand back and her confidence rubs off on you. You let it take away whatever remaining doubts you have left. There's no excuse to back down now, or to run from it.

You’re gonna do it.

You have to do it.

[malfoymanortings]

i don’t care PART 1

SUMMARY: Lavender Brown begins to find herself after Ron Weasley breaks her heart. An unlikely Slytherin helps her do just that.

PAIRINGS: to be decided. 

had to get this written as it just would not leave my mind. Lavender truly deserved better, she was just a girl with a crush. this is my way of giving her a better ending. maybe another part? depends on if this is received well.

Lavender Brown was furious with herself.

The entire time, she should have seen it coming. She should have known that this relationship would just end with a broken heart for her. Everyone knew that Ron and Hermione had, at the very least, a thing for each other. 

But Ron had chosen her. At least for a while. Really, how was she supposed to know it was all just to make Hermione jealous? And, for Ron to practice (very thoroughly, she might add) kissing and touching on someone else before he went to Hermione.

How the fuck was Lavender supposed to know she meant nothing to the boy who had meant everything to her?

Now, as she sat at the opposite table, she clenched her spoon in her hands as Ron whispered to Hermione and Harry, his eyes on her. Almost comically, the trio all turned to face her unabashed, openly staring at her for a moment before turning back to their whispers.

“She seems a bit.. Put out, doesn’t she?” Ron’s voice was never quiet.

Lavender slammed her utensil down, and swung her book bag over her shoulder. She wasn’t just going to sit here, and let them whisper about her. She could see the apprehension in Ron’s face, the annoyance in Hermione’s, and the fear in Harry’s.

“I wonder why, Ron, I would be ‘put out’,” seethed Lavender, crossing her arms in an attempt to keep her emotions in check. “It’s almost like you dated me, used me, just to get Hermione jealous.”

“Lavender, I-” Hermione broke the silence, giving an annoyed look to both Ron and Harry, the two boys silent. 

“Really, you’re the last person I want to hear from,” Lavender cut Hermione off, her gaze locked on Ron. “I deserve an apology. At the bare minimum.”

Ron was silent for a moment, his blue eyes averted from hers. “Erm, sorry.”

Lavender blinked slowly, tapping her foot. When Ron said nothing more, she scoffed. “That’s really all you’ll say, hm? You’re absolutely disgusting.”

Without waiting for what would surely be a useless response, Lavender left the Great Hall. Her anger carried her all the way to the Divination room, which was usually always empty. Yet, as she entered the room, there was someone already there, lying on one of the poufy pillows with the hood of his robe drawn over his face.

Draco Malfoy.

Lavender faltered in the doorway, unsure of what she should do. All she had wanted was to be alone, in her safe haven of Divination, perhaps read her tea leaves if she were feeling up to it. But of course, yet another male had to ruin her plans.

“You haven’t got to leave on our account,” Lavender turned to see Blaise Zabini sitting on the opposite side of the room, flicking through a weathered book. “He’ll be out for at least another hour or so, as long as you aren’t loud.”

Lavender nodded stiffly, unsure of what to make of the Slytherin boys. She hadn't had much interaction between either boy, although everyone knew them. Draco “my father will hear about this” Malfoy was the infamous Slytherin prince. Blaise Zabini was one of Draco’s close friends, and he had always reminded Lavender of an elegant renaissance painting. He moved with grace and poise, same as Draco, although with Blaise there always seemed to be an air of serenity around him. Draco, on the other hand, was the furthest thing from a picture of serenity.

Regardless, Lavender wasn’t going to let the Slytherin boys stop her from enjoying her Divination time. She was done modeling her life after what would make men most happy.

She sat furthest away from the two boys, moving to make her tea. Once it was done, she sipped it slowly, savoring the warm chamomile on her throat. She busied herself with staring at the ceiling, decorated in various runes and symbols. A few of them were recognizable enough, whereas others seemed to fade and twist in and out of each other. It made it rather difficult to decipher them.

Of course, the tea and the ceiling couldn’t distract her for much longer, and she soon found herself thinking on Ron fucking Weasley.

What did Hermione have that she didn’t? Lavender’s wavy blonde hair was properly managed, instead of a wild frizzy mess like Grangers. Lavender wore makeup, Lavender wore pretty clothes, Lavender took great care in her appearance and the way she presented herself. Lavender knew she was pretty. She was smart too, even if it wasn’t quite like Hermione.

It seemed the only thing Hermione had that Lavender didn’t was Ron’s love.

That seemed hardly fair to Lavender. She was the one who Ron had snogged rather indecently. The one he had touched, even if it was rough and… pokey, the first time. He was incredibly eager, anxious to learn, even if his first few executions were awkward and lackluster. Now, after Lavender had spent time and effort into helping Ron understand the more physical side of a relationship, he was sent off to Hermione, primed and ready to go?

How was that fair?

The sad truth was, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Ron Weasley had used her to make Hermione jealous. It wasn’t fair that he had used her body, her emotions, as a weapon against Hermione. It wasn’t fair that in the end, no matter how much she proved to Ron she loved him, cared for him, it wasn’t enough. Did he think she enjoyed all of the public affection and nicknames? She didn’t, but with Ron being the youngest boy in his family and the most overlooked, she had wanted him to feel special.

Even if that meant making a fool of herself by constantly throwing herself on him and giving him a nickname like Won Won. She had thought, making him the center of her world, showering him with love and affection, it would make him happy. After all, he was overshadowed by his brothers and Harry Potter. Didn’t he want to feel special for once?

Yet, every time he had instigated their snogging, their groping, whatever it may be, Lavender now realized it was because Hermione was in the room. Whether it be she was coming back in the common room, or innocently sitting with Harry, Ron would force himself onto Lavender. Of course Lavender would respond eagerly, she loved the boy.

Although he never loved her.

The revelation hurt her deeply, and as her chest cracked, a few tears slipped down her face. She stared into her teacup, determined to not have a breakdown while Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy (although the latter was still sleeping soundly) were around her. It wasn’t working, and before she knew it, she was sniffling quietly into her now empty cup of tea.

“Here.”

Lavender dared look up to see Blaise Zabini standing in front of her brandishing a dark green handkerchief. It was labeled with an elegant Z, and she eyed it suspiciously.

“What, did you charm it to give me a rash? Stick to my face, perhaps?” the words came out defensively, and Lavender found she didn’t care. She was tired of trying to make men feel safe and secure. Respected. They didn’t bother to make her feel that way, Ron had made that clear.

“I wouldn’t waste a hanky on a charm as trivial as that,” Blaise responded tartly, raising an eyebrow. “You’re crying, and Gryffindor or not, my mother raised me better than to let pretty girls cry over useless boys.”

Lavender took the handkerchief hesitantly, dabbing at her eyes. Sure that it was indeed just a regular piece of cloth, she wiped at her face, crying her tears. “Thank you.” Dimly, she recognized that the ever so handsome Blaise Zabini had called her pretty.

Blaise nodded. He sat next to Lavender then, looking at her tea. “Are you reading your leaves?”

“Yes,” started Lavender, pleasantly surprised that he knew what she was doing. “Are you familiar with Divination?”

Blaise nodded again, his nimble fingers reaching over to hold her cup. “May I?”

It was Lavender’s turn to nod.

Blaise examined the cup for a minute, a crease appearing in his brows. This close, Lavender admired his long eyelashes. Blaise was quite handsome, as though he had been carved from clay by the hand of Michelangelo. 

“I see a spider,” confided Blaise, setting her cup back down. “In ancient times, a spider symbolized growth, power, and mystery. Translated, the way you handle situations in your life will determine if you will be prosperous or not. The power of growth lies squarely in your hands.”

Lavender swallowed hard. She hadn’t been expecting that. “You didn’t even have to look that up.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at her. “I usually don’t.”

Lavender wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She hadn’t been expecting Blaise to be like this. She was expecting more of a Draco vibe from him, but she found she was pleasantly surprised at his true self.

Speaking of the blond boy, he began to stir on his pillow. 

“Looks like the dragon has awoken,” conceded Blaise, standing up from his spot next to Lavender. “I’ll see you around. Remember your leaves.”

“I will.” Lavender nodded to the Slytherin boy, watching as Draco rose from his spot. 

The blond looked like he wanted to say something about her, but Blaise guided him out of the room before the blond could open his mouth. She assumed it would have been in question as to why she was in the same room as the sleeping boy, but she would never know. Perhaps it was better that way. Draco had a wicked tongue when he wanted.

As Lavender stared into her tea leaves, she thought of Blaise. She wondered if she would in fact see the handsome boy again. Probably not. He was a Slytherin. She was a Gryffindor.

And men, she had found, were utterly disappointing.

[crystaljins]

Hii Ani , i just finished reading he's pretending and OMG MY WENT UWU WHILE READING IT , don't wanna pressure but i need a big one shot of that oof love u 💜

Characters: Jimin x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Synopsis: Discovering that you are Jimin’s Soulmate after he has spent most of the time he’s known you supposedly Hating you is bound to be a messy and confusing experience for everyone involved. Enemies-to-lovers(ish) drabble. Daemon!Jimin x Faerie!Reader.

Notes: First of all, I’m sorry for taking so long to respond, I had a surprise planned for you that I needed to execute.Second of all, thank you!! I’m so glad you enjoyed. Unfortunately I do not have the time or emotional energy to write a big oneshot, but I have a consolation prize for you that is hopefully enough to tide over the craving ahaha.

You’re in danger. Jimin doesn’t know how he knows- he just feels a horrible, anxious pull in his gut and he knows in bones that something is terribly, terribly wrong. 

“Jimin?” Taehyung calls cautiously, because his friend has been short tempered and prone to snapping lately. Ever since the whole Soulmate incident where he’d apparently kissed you in a fit of crazed pattern and your soulmate marks had appeared in the next moment. He personally doesn’t think Jimin is capable of healthily processing anything so it’s completely understandable that the way Jimin has responded to such a life-changing event was to freak out and become increasingly withdrawn. 

This is new though, the way Jimin has paused with a spoonful of food halfway to his mouth and suddenly gone deathly pale. A rice grain falls from Jimin’s gaping mouth and lands ungracefully on the table. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung calls, a little more forcefully this time as concern begins to mount. Had Jimin been poisoned? You’re not the on-duty nurse today and admittedly none of the other nurses are as capable or as competent as you. He’s not sure they’d be able to handle a poisoning. Jimin slams his mouth shut and staggers to his feet. 

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He demands, urgently and darkly. Taehyung blinks a few times and then stares disbelievingly at his friend. 

“Seriously? I full-on thought you were dying!” Taehyung exclaims. “Is this just another one of those times you try and talk to her and freak out and run away before you can because apparently you don’t know how to talk to girls?”

Jimin’s ears glow slight red and the air around him heats just a little. One of the side effects of being daemon is an affinity for fire and the air always feels slightly hot when Jimin is embarrassed. 

“No!” He snaps though the way he’s gone bright red is probably ruining the intimidating aura he likes to try and give off. Unfortunately, once you get to know Jimin it becomes clear very quickly that he’s as harmless as a baby chick and as desperate for love and validation as a neglected puppy. “She’s… I just feel like she’s in danger.” Jimin admits, lowering his head like it’s something shameful. Taehyung blinks a few times. 

“It must be a Soulmate thing.” Taehyung clarifies gently. “Your emotions are probably closely tied to hers- if she’s feeling extreme fear or alarm then that’s probably why you’re reacting like that. It’s ok, Jimin- it’s natural to feel concern towards your Soulmate.”

Jimin remains standing, tension written into every line of his body. Now, in the middle of the lunchroom where many of his juniors are always watching, is not the moment to have a breakdown or to expose any vulnerability. But he can’t help the way his expression crumbles just slightly. 

“I… don’t have a right to be.” He whispers, lowly enough that Taehyung is the only one in the room who can hear his words. “After everything… after how I treated her… after how I’m such a dumb coward that I run away before I can even have a proper conversation with her… I don’t deserve to have this link with her. Maybe fate messed up… surely she deserves a better Soulmate, someone who can actually talk to her and take her out to nice places and be kind.”

Taehyung’s expression softens and he rests one large hand over his friend’s clenched fist until Jimin releases the tension causing his knuckles to go white. 

“It’s ok, Jimin. Fate didn’t make a mistake. If you don’t feel like you can handle it… then just keep working towards it. One baby step at a time. And if you tell her that I’m sure she’ll accept what you have to say. She’s probably just as afraid having you as her Soulmate as you are. But on any note, she’s probably in her room. It’s her day off and she likes to sleep in.” Taehyung says, getting briskly to his feet. “I’d come with you but I feel like you’re more than capable of dealing with whatever threat she may be facing.”

Jimin doesn’t need any more urging than that- he takes off in the next moment, full on sprinting towards the wing of the castle where your lodgings are. You stay near the infirmary in case of an emergency unlike the rest of the army who reside in the barracks just outside the walls of the castle. He runs like his life is dependent on it- and it is. Your life could be in danger for all he knows. 

 If your room door is locked, he doesn’t notice- he swings the door open with such ferocious strength the lock probably just tears straight through the wood like paper. Locks are more about courtesy in a castle filled with supernatural beings. You’re in your pyjamas, your hair freshly washed and you look soft and smell slightly sweet, but you don’t look to be in any danger. Your hand is clasped over your chest and when you see him your expression melts in relief. 

“There’s a bug!” You cry, pointing at what is indeed a cockroach scaling the wall of your quarters. Disgusting but essentially harmless. 

Jimin is so relieved that he can’t help it- he bursts into laughter, much to your embarrassment. 

A short while later, once the intruder is dealt with, you and he sit side by side on the couch. Your hair is damp and you smell cleanly of soap and the scent fills his lungs and makes a soft, billowing feeling expand in his chest. 

“Sorry about that.” You say, unable to meet his gaze. “I… I didn’t know you would come running if I got a fright like that.”

“It’s ok.” Jimin says quickly but gruffly. “D-don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed of that. It’s not like you could control it. It’s… it’s just a side effect of us being Soulmates, I guess.” 

“Is that what we are?” You say contemplatively. Your finger presses into the space just beneath your collarbone, where your mark sits. The matching one of his chest glows warm in response. Jimin glances away, ashamed. 

“I’m… I’m sorry if it didn’t feel that way.” He says, though he’s so nervous it feels as though he’s speaking through a mouthful of cotton. “I just… it’s a lot to take in so I got scared.” 

“Me too.” You admit softly. “I was upset because Fate gave me a Soulmate that hated me.”

Jimin flushes deep red and feels shame fill him. But he remembers Taehyung’s words and gathers his courage. He’s the commander of the king’s army- he can talk to a girl.

“I don’t hate you.” He says softly. “I…. I just wanted to hate you. Because I was scared of how you make me feel. But… I was just in denial. I actually… I actually really like you.” He confesses. “And I know things are messed up between us but I’d really like if we could start again. And get to know each other as Soulmates.”

You’re silent for a long moment and when he looks at you, you’re holding back a smile. 

“You’re… you’re quite cute.” You say, and Jimin hunches over, equal parts bemused and happy at your words. “I’d like that, if we got to know each other. Maybe we just got freaked out because it seems like something really huge with a lot of pressure, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Let’s start off as friends, yeah? And I’ll try not to get scared by any bugs in the meantime.”

“You can.” Jimin says quickly, before he can chicken out. His ears burn so hot the air around him is actually of risk of combusting. “Get scared by bugs. I’ll come, if you’re afraid. I don’t mind. I’ll chase them off for you.”

You stare at Jimin for a long moment before a wide smile crosses your face and his stupid heart begins to beat unreasonably faster. 

“That sounds good to me.” You say. And then you hold out your arm in what he recognises as a faerie custom. He hesitates only a moment before leaning in to allow you to curl your outstretched arm around the back of his neck and press your forehead to his. Daemons prefer to avoid touching or physical contact so he feels overwhelmed by your proximity. He should feel repulsed at the faerie gesture, or offended but all he feels is a warmth in his heart. It is remarkably pleasant. “I look forward to getting to know you, Soulmate.” You say warmly, and a real smile crosses Jimin’s face.

He knows in that moment that things are going to be ok.

[bittersweetmelxdy]

Hey if its alright could I get some Victor angst where Victor is about to confess to mc but he overhears her on the phone with Gavin after he's been shot. Where she is begging him to stay awake and keep talking with her cus she loves him and cant stand to lose him. (Btw i love your writing 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💙❤💓💕🧡💜)

Well I’ll tell you, this was so hard to write, I didn’t want to break Victor’s heart, but you wanted angst, I hope you like it (I don’t know if that’s the right thing to say, I’m breaking Victor’s heart) Like always, any feedback is welcome (because this is my first time writing angst) :)

Title: Of Darcys, Bennetsand FitzwilliamsPairing: VictorxMC (onesided), GavinxMCWarnings: Pining and angstWords: 1372

As Jane Austen once said“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laidthe foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that Ihad begun.” Victor had read the book shortly after his mother had gone toFrance, as he remembered she would always say that it was her favourite book.And he begrudgingly understood the appeal of the book, the complexity of thestory, Austen’s commentary on the social climate of her day. But he neverunderstood the Colonel Fitzwilliam unrequited love situation, the man clearlyhad feelings for her, but did nothing about it, due to his social circumstances, and instead chose to suffer in silence,allowing his cousin to come and sweep the heroine off her feet. Victor alwayssaid to himself after reading that book at the age of 15 ‘I will never putmyself in that situation, I will never be a coward in love’. 13 years laterit turns out fate was ready to make him swallow his words like a bitter pill.

He didn’t expect it, when she came barrelling into his office, pushingpast Goldman and stopping him dead in his tracks. As soon as he locked eyeswith her, he should have known he was already too far gone, so he did theresponsible thing, buried his feelings under levels of sarcasm and dry wit. Fromthe very first time he agreed to her proposal, that she “would change hismind”, he had not only fallen headfirst into the rabbit hole, but he had walkedwillingly into it.

He had even turned up at a shoot she was doing with that superstar Kiro,just to see her. He had snorted at her attempted at making pudding, and whileshe was preoccupied with her work, he had secretly replaced the puddings shehad made with the ones he had made at Souvenir. Taking them with him to hisrestaurant, he had stared at it on his counter top for a solid ten minutes, chinresting on his hands, before finally picking up a spoon to take a bite,“Horrible” he had said, as he finished both pots of pudding he had swiped fromthe set. He thought back to earlier when he had walked her back and stoppedtime in order to spend more time with her, he knew that she had noticed, andwhen he glanced down to see her bright eyes fixed on him, a soft pink blush onher cheeks, he thought maybe this ‘crush’ wasn’t so bad.

Business Trips were always something out of the ordinary, but he neverwould have expected to be dragged from sleep at 4 in the morning, for aquarterly report. Despite how tired he was, he still stayed on the phone withher and listened to her melodic voice reel out data and statistics. Hanging upthe phone he stared out the window as dawn broke over the horizon ‘Maybe Iam a fool’ he mused. But as he lay back down for one last hour of sleepbefore he had to get up, he wondered when was the last time he felt so at peacefrom a phone call.

Weeks later, he as he carried her unconscious body from that abandonedset, he had never felt so protective over another person. She was that girl allthose years ago that he had saved from the car accident, and he couldn’t helpbut mentally berate himself ‘I thought she seemed familiar when he had savedher from the car the other month. Why didn’t I make that connection?’ He cradledher close to his chest and vowed aloud that he would never let her be hurt bythose people again. He was ready to take that leap and tell the woman in hisarms, that he had fallen for her, “despite his better judgement”.

It turns out after that incident, both of them were so busy that theynever ran into each other, he would catch glimpses of her as she came to dropfiles off with Goldman, but by the time he was able to abandon what he wasdoing to go after her, she was gone. Days and weeks went by until he wasfinally able to accompany her on set, with some half-baked excuse about‘supervising flight risks’. He watched her fondly, as she ran around the set,jumping from conversation to conversation, directing her team in order to getthe perfect shots in the fewest amount of takes. She paused for a minute to tieher hair up when her phone rang, she tapped a guy with white hair who to behonest in his opinion dressed like a delinquent and pointed at her phone. Theguy nodded and she walked off to answer the phone call, with a suspiciouslysweet smile on her lips and a bounce in her steps.

After 20 minutes, the crew started to get a little antsy at the absenceof their head producer, so the white haired guy she was talking to before sheleft offered to go look for her, and to everyone’s surprise Victor also foundhimself volunteering to search for her as well. Victor walked down a few corridor’sand he then heard the sound that sounded like a choked sob, fearing the worsthe ran towards the corner that would lead him to her. But what he heard nextstopped him completely in his tracks.

“Gavin, what do mean, “don’t worry”! You’ve been shot, oh course I’mgoing to worry!” She said sniffing.

Victor pressed himself up against the wall, hidden from her view, andalthough he would say that eavesdropping is a terrible practice, he had toknow. He had to know. ‘Gavin? Wasn’t that one of the guests she hadpreviously on Miracle Finder? What’s their relationship?’ She went quietfor a minute, sniffling and making noises of agreement to the person on theother side.

“I know, I know, but Gavin stay with me please, no…no…no, stay with me ‘tilthe ambulance gets there... What? They’re here, good, listen to the paramedics, and go with them to the hospital. Please, I love you, I can’t lose you. I can’t, listenI’ll be at the hospital when you get there. Why? Gavin! I love you; I’m notleaving you, not now not ever.”

Victor’s blood ran cold, his heart was thumping in his ears, and he waslosing his grip on reality. He only vaguely heard the following conversation, ashis head felt like he was swimming underwater, his lungs unable to draw inenough oxygen, also added to the lightheaded feeling he had.

“Hey Boss Lady, everyone at the shoot- Hey what’s wrong?”

“Minor, Gavin’s been shot, I’m heading to the hospital now, can youhandle the shoot without me?”

“Of course! Call me when you get there!”

“Will do!”

It had been a long time since Victor had had a breakdown, his backgroundalways taught him to hide his emotions but he couldn’t stop it bubbling up. He frozetime and sank to the floor, broken sobs almost choking him. He covered his eyeswith his arm, and knocked his head back against the wall, the physical painfrom that injury not even coming close to the emotional pain he was goingthrough. He loved her, he had fallen so hopelessly in love with her, it wascrazy. She was ditzy, clumsy, naïve, she had every trait he thought he hated,yet whenever she displayed it, he just thought she adorable. In the midst ofhis emotional torment he remembered that book he had read all those years agoand he finally understood what he had never understood before. She wasElizabeth Bennet, headstrong, fierce and someone who just couldn’t take youreyes off, but he wasn’t Mr Darcy, she’d already found him, and he’d swept her cleanoff her feet. He was Colonel Fitzwilliam, doomed to be in love with a woman hewas unable to have, and having to suffer through watching her love someone elsein the way he would die for her to love him.

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Fourteen

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1825

Author’s Note: This chapter wasn’t originally part of my outline, but I decided to add it because I felt like a little more explanation was needed!

Your eyes shot open and you sat up, looking around at the dark room. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, but it began to slow down as you realized that you weren’t at the party anymore. This was just Tyler’s guest room.

You flopped back onto the pillow as tears began to pool in your eyes. Just when you had pushed the night from your thoughts and managed to fall asleep, your mind had made you relive it again. The dream had seemed so real, right down to the way that you felt like you had been punched in the stomach.

With shaky hands, you reached up to cover your mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. You didn’t want to accidentally wake up Tyler and make him have to deal with your emotional breakdown in the middle of the night. He had done enough for you already.

It was harder to keep the negative thoughts out of your mind now that you no longer had Tyler to distract you. For a while there, you had thought that you were handling everything really well. Evidently, this wasn’t the case. You ran a hand through your hair and rubbed your eyes. There was no way that you were going to be able to get back to sleep now.

With a resounding sigh, you threw the covers off of you and walked out into the hallway. Hopefully Tyler wouldn’t mind being woken up. You hated to do this to him, but you knew that as long as you were alone, you would only start to feel worse.

You lightly knocked on what you were pretty sure was the door to Tyler’s bedroom. It should have been just loud enough to wake him up without scaring him too bad. There were shuffling footsteps a few moments later, and a very sleepy Tyler appeared just inside.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of one of his eyes. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you sniffled.

“Oh, Y/N/N,” he said, opening the door wider.

You walked inside and took a seat on the edge of Tyler’s bed. The blankets were in messy heaps and it was warm from his body heat. He grabbed a discarded white t-shirt from the ground and pulled it on over his dark sweatpants.

“What’s going on?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

“I, um,” you mumbled, wiping a tear away. “I had a bad dream about what happened last night. It was like reliving it all over again.”

“Come here,” he said, holding an arm out for you.

You laughed a little as you scooted over and leaned into him, “I feel like a little kid talking to their parent after a nightmare.”

Tyler laughed at this too, “If this is what parenting is like, it isn’t so bad.”

You smiled. It was nice to know that Tyler wasn’t upset with you for waking him up in the middle of the night.

“Tonight has just been a mess,” you sighed as you drew patterns on your knee.

“Yeah, but we’re going to get through it.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to fall asleep again.”

“Do you want me to come sit in your room with you?”

“You would do that?”

Tyler shrugged, “Why not? I’ll just sit with you until you’re asleep so you don’t have to be alone, and then once you’re asleep I can come back in here.”

You leaned back so that you could properly look at him, “That would be really helpful, actually.”

“That was the goal,” he smiled. “Come on.”

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and the two of you walked back to your room. You got back under the covers and curled up while Tyler sat down on the other side of the bed. It already felt like there was a weight off your chest now that you were no longer alone.

“Thanks, Ty,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I’m ever going to stop saying that.”

“It’s ok,” he said, a slight hint of laughter in his voice. “At least it lets me know that I’m doing something right.”

You nodded against the pillow and breathed deeply, already feeling much more tired than you had before.

“Goodnight, Y/N/N,” Tyler said softly.

“Goodnight.”

Tyler was gone when you woke up the next morning. You grabbed one of the hoodies from your bag and pulled it on over your pajama shirt. The house was eerily quiet as you made your way downstairs.

You walked into the kitchen and began to look through the cupboards, hoping to find something that would make a good breakfast. Most of Tyler’s cupboards were full of snacks and other sugar-filled foods, but you eventually managed to find some cereal. Locating the bowls proved to be a bit more of a challenge.

Tyler arrived downstairs just as you sat down at the table with your breakfast. From the looks of it, he had just woken up too. His hair was still a mess and he was wearing the same pajamas from the night before.

“Morning,” he mumbled as he opened a cupboard and grabbed one of the sugary snacks that you had specifically avoided.

“Morning,” you answered. “How’d you sleep?”

Tyler walked over and practically collapsed into the chair across the table from you, “You know me. I’m a master at getting a terrible night’s sleep.”

“Me waking you up in the middle of the night probably didn’t help,” you laughed nervously before taking a bite of cereal.

“I was having troubles sleeping way before then,” he explained. “Besides, if it helped you then it was totally worth it.”

“It did,” you nodded. “There was no way I was going to get back to sleep in a timely manner if it weren’t for you. Thanks again.”

He waved a hand at you, “Don’t mention it.”

“Have you heard anything else from Josh?” you said, tapping your spoon nervously against the edge of your bowl.

“I actually stayed up pretty late talking to him,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” you asked.

“Yeah. He thinks that it’s his fault that you’re upset, although he has no idea what he did. I didn’t confirm or deny if that was true.”

“Thanks. I know this whole thing is dumb.”

“It’s not dumb, Y/N/N. You’re allowed to have feelings.”

You nodded, even though you didn’t quite believe him.

“He remembers kissing her, by the way. He just doesn’t remember what made him do it.”

Your jaw clenched and you nodded, keeping your vision focused on your cereal bowl. You had done enough crying in the last twenty four hours and you really didn’t feel like breaking down again.

“Are you ok?”

You met Tyler’s eyes, “Yeah, I’m ok.”

He gave you a reassuring smile, “So, what do you want to do today?”

“You would know better than me,” you laughed. There was a pang of sadness in your chest as you remembered the day that you and Josh had spent at the conservatory. If only you could go back to what things were like then.

“If you want, we can just stay here and enjoy not having any responsibilities before tour starts again. There’s no pressure for us to go out and do something.”

“Yeah, maybe we should just stay here,” you said.

Tyler nodded and stood up to throw away his wrapper. You scooped up another spoonful of cereal.

“If you change your mind, just let me know,” he said, heading back for the stairs. “There’s plenty of things we can do later today.”

“I will.”

You leaned forward and buried your face in your hands once Tyler was upstairs. Going on tour and leaving Matthew was supposed to turn your life around, but now you just felt as awful as you had a few months ago. It was like you were destined to have your heart broken over and over again.

You finished your cereal and washed out your bowl. Maybe getting upstairs and getting ready would help you feel a bit better. There was still time for your day to turn around.

“You’re kidding!” you laughed.

“I wish I was,” Tyler smiled, rubbing a tear out of his eye.

“That’s awful. Hilarious, but awful.”

“That’s what happens when you’re a semi-famous musician,” he shrugged.

“Just wait until you guys make it really big.”

“If we make it really big.”

“Trust me, you guys are going to get there.”

Tyler shook his head and set his plate on the coffee table. You two had ended up spending all day at the house watching tv, swapping crazy life stories, and just generally enjoying not having to do anything productive. The entire Josh incident had been at the back of your mind and you were genuinely having fun just hanging out with Tyler.

“If we do make it big, I hope you’re still with us to photograph all the cool stuff we come up with.”

“Ty, I don’t plan on leaving you guys anytime soon. That’s a promise.”

“Good. We need cool people like you on tour,” he smiled, reaching out to poke you with his foot.

“Gross,” you laughed, shoving his leg away from you.

You grabbed your phone from beside you and checked to see if you had missed any notifications. Part of you was hoping that Josh would message you so you could talk about what happened, but you knew that if that actually happened it wouldn’t lead anywhere. There was no way you would so readily admit your feelings to him.

“I should probably head to bed,” Tyler said, unwrapping himself from the blankets so that he could stand up. “If I get my sleep schedule too messed up, then I’m never going to be able to sleep on tour.”

“When do we leave?”

“Early Monday morning.”

You sighed and leaned back against the couch. That was only two more days. This week had gone by way too fast and you weren’t sure that you were ready to be thrown back into tour life just yet. Not to mention it would mean being with Josh around the clock again.

“Too soon,” you said, following Tyler’s lead in getting off the couch.

“Hey now! You-”

You cut Tyler off, “Yes, I know. I signed up for this.”

“Exactly.”

“Goodnight, Ty,” you smiled sarcastically as you turned down the hall.

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

You jumped onto the bed and leaned back so that you could stare at the ceiling. Just two short days until you were back on the road. It was hard to tell whether you were more excited or terrified of the idea. A lot had changed since the last time all of you had been cramped on that tour bus, and you weren’t so sure that was a good thing.

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[notyourcityyc]

In My Life

https://notyourcity.nyc/in-my-life/

 IN MY LIFE

 IN MY LIFE

 ARTISTS

As a 15 year old child growing up in New York City, I was accustomed to a looser set of restrictions upon my personal agency than many other children, and I was exposed to opportunities that did not exist for many other children. I believed it was my right to drink as deeply from the cup of life as I could, by virtue of having had the good fortune to be born into a position of opportunity. This was a mentality echoed by my peers as we began using drugs and drinking, but not by my mother as I began to naturally arrange my priorities according to my interests. I awoke the morning of January the 31st, 2011 to find two hulking goons standing in my doorway, as one of them tossed me a bag of clothes and told me to get up and come with them. They told me they would handcuff me if I didn’t do what they wanted. My mom stood silently in my hallway and didn’t say a word as I left for the next 16 months.

 When I touched down in Atlanta, GA, my plane goon transferred me to a different pair of goons. These ones were called Cecil and Paul. They took me to Chick-Fil-A. Then they took me to a remote wilderness outpost where I was made to strip and squat in front of them, coughing once to dislodge any potential insertables from my rectum. My clothes and belongings were put in a box, and I was fitted in a red Gildan tee, khaki pants, hiking shoes and a 60lb pack. They made me sign some forms and enroll as the newest member of Second Nature Wilderness Program, Blue Ridge. Cecil and Paul drove me through the woods for about an hour before coming to a stop on the side of a dark mountain road. Two neon parkas emerged from the trees to walk me to G6, the group of drug addict boys. I was told that I was on ‘Earth Phase’ and would not be allowed to enter the group until I had completed my coursework and a minimum of 24 hours had passed. I was handed a packet and placed under a tarp away from the group of bearded teens. I stayed there the whole night, watching the campfire, thinking about my life, until the rain got bad and they brought me into the middle. That was where we slept that night, under the Big Blue tarp. In my subsequent 19 weeks in the program that never happened again.

 Second Nature Wilderness Program is a behavioral modification treatment option for at-risk youth. Children as young as 12 were enrolled in the pediatric version of the program, called Footsteps. There was a voluntary treatment option for adults called Second Nature Entrada in Utah. Maybe there still is. Being 15 I was just past the cutoff to be in the teen drug addict group, where I was classified as an addict and surrounded by a milieu of similarly classified teenagers. The classification is important because that otherization was the central justification for why we were unable to be responsible for our own lives and the center was morally obliged to correct us for our poor parents. Any sort of defiance or contradictory opinion was met with a swift condemnation of the addict that made you say that. We were reduced to barely feeling automatons expected to adapt to change without attachment and accept any consequences outside our control. I did extraordinarily well in some aspects of that. Some of the moments I spent in the woods were the only peaceful ones I’d had in a while.

 Life was extremely regulated in the G6 society. Every day there was a rotating list of group jobs, that proceeded according to how long a member had been in the group. Each group member was given a number that advanced as the oldest members left. We called out our numbers in order to identify to staff that we hadn’t run away as we used the bathroom, every 3-5 seconds. There was a piss tarp and shit tarp. In addition to group jobs such as meal prep in which everyone had a designated function, there were group tasks such as camp set up and breakdown that we accomplished in timed cycles. We would be given rewards for meeting objectives within timed constraints, and consequences for going over. This required us to foster an atmosphere of productivity and community, and gave members opportunities to display leadership by actions and speech. We were not allowed to know the time. Thinking about the future was discouraged. Trying to ‘information gather’ or otherwise exert control over your situation was set up as a no win prospect. We were not allowed to conduct conversations out of earshot of staff. We were not allowed to be out of sight for any period of time besides when we used the bathroom or went to bed. Staff collected our boots at night so that we couldn’t run away.

 In Fire Phase a group member was expected to learn how to bust a fire with sticks. By bow-drilling using material collected from the environment we made all of our group meals and fires. White pine made the spindles, long flexible sticks the bows, pine or sage or cedar the fireboards (we only got pine). We used hand-shredded poplar bark, called nesting, for kindling. In fire phase you were expected to carve your own wooden spoon to eat with. We used bear gloves to handle knives and fire. Food was stored in bear bags, which were each collected at the end of the night and strung up over a tree to deter predators. I loved throwing the bear knot successfully, yelling my name for 45 minutes while I tried to loop it between two branches.

 Days, weeks, months of my life here. Hidden behind a wave of nostalgia and grief. I felt implicitly the premium of my youth slipping away. At 3 weeks I was told I was not going home. No one went home. Aftercare was the de facto recommendation of our therapist Lu Vaughn. A former drugaddict, she was a big book thumping god fearing hurricane of bullshit-calling out. She had snow white hair and clear blue eyes. The first time she met me she played Styx - Angry Young Man from her speaker. I was mad at my mom. I was mad at the world for sending me here. I had lost control of a situation that I thought was sacrosanct. I was reeling and scared. I ran with her dog up and down the hills faster than anyone, she said that’s when she knew I was a crazy person.

 In My Life

 In my life, I've felt like the odd one out. I was always too hyper, too aggressive, too much for adults to handle. Trouble seemed to follow me wherever I went. I was a socially awkward mess, too smart for my own good and ignorant of how people were supposed to act.

When I Was in th3rd

When I was in 3rd grade, I began seeing a psychiatrist. I was also put on medication. At the time, I didn't know why it was happening, but it made me feel like I had a problem, and I was ashamed when I saw someone takem my medications. I was always angry. I still don't know why, but when something made me mad I would have the urge to be violent. The only way to fully satisfy tha urge was to hit someone. It was verye asy to make me angry

In the beginning of 6th grade, my parents divocred. 3 weeks before, my mother told me she didn't love my father. Even so, I was shocked. That began a depression thaat lasted about a year, for both my brtoehr an I. My mom dind't try to confort me, she was satactly. and we were sad. 6th grade is a blur of aggression and anger, I hated authority and made very few friends, I kep tthe dicvocere I asecret. I'm stil noot sure why.

My mom and I never had a good relationship. I was always the problem child. I wasn't helped when I got hurt and I was punished more than my brother and sister. Even now, despite the fact that my brother and I both smoke and drink, I was the only one t o go to rehab, and the only one to com ehere. My mom is bipolar, like me. She is irrationall and stubborn, and in my opinion a flawed parent. She is a pushover in some ways, and far too obstinate where she shouldn't be. Given the choice, I would gladly live away from her. When I was younger, she made me feel like I was an outcast, a weirdo with problems that no one else has, and it was my fault. She made me feel unloved, and I was. When I became too big of a problem and made her life too hectic, she has no problem cuttin gme losoe.

I missed a lot

of school. Many days in 7th grade, and many in 8th grade. When I started to miss days in 8th grade, my mom had enough. She sent me to Long island to live with my dad. 3weeks or so fatter I had arrived, she put the house we were ivinging in on the market, knowing that my dad had no job and that he was the one paying the mortgage the past 2 years. Eventually, she found a buyer, and my dad and I moved into a room in a man's house, where he lived with a woman we knew as "pink". There was only one bed so we slept together

Throughout my time in that house, IU fell deepr into depression. I had developed social anxiety, and found it almost impossible to make friends in my new school. I began to miss days again, and the school let me stop coming in, on groups of 'emotional illness'? I was sedentary, spending days on end in that small room. I had been stick thin my whol elife for the ffirst time I began to wain geith. My bipolar episodes gerw more frequent, I lashed out at my dad. I didn't see my sister for 3 months. Eventually, I went back to school. I finished the last couple of months. I still failed to make friends

 in the summer, I went to camp in the city, for the first time in years. I was happy, I lived with my mother again. Careful to beo on my best behavior. I made friends again, I became close with my twin brother again. Things seemed to be going right. Miraculously, I was able to convince my mom to take me back. My dad was very hurt, but I knew it wawsm y only chance for happiness. In another miracle, I was able to get into a good school, despite my absences and poor grades. Things were finally looking up.

At Elanor Roosevelt High SChool, I discovered drugs. I quickly became a frequent pot smoker, using it was a bway to mond with my newfound friends. I slowely developed social skills again, and even got myself a girlfriend, cameill. all the while, I smoked, and I drank. I couldn't have been happier. Gradually, I began smoking more and more frequentlyu. It became a daily routine. Marijuana recatwed with the medications. I took, and givngme potent fvisual hallucinations and experiences I can't even put into words, I got much higher than my friendsearning me ntickmame "crackhead ed"Graduall, I fell inl ove with CAmille, she was depressive too, had afewtimeswasoveral" dammaged goods" she had been it was my job to help. And I did, I put large emoungs into making her better. Gradually, I began to see results. Once I began to love her, it seemed our relationship took a turn for the worse. She began to have doubts, and became more depressed. When we broke up, the following day I stayed home from school and tried ecstasy. I had been sold fake pills, so it didn't do very much for me. WE got back together several times, but it ddn't last. She had changed, possibley because of me.

MY LIFE

EDWARD BROE2/1/11

 NOTYOURCITYYC, NOTYOURCITYYC, NOTYOURCITYYC, NOTYOURCITYYC NOTYOURCITYYC, NOTYOURCITYYCNOTYOURCITYYC@NOTYOURCITY.NYC