#in it's own way 01 kept me going but damn did I get emotional about it

[firebirdsdaughter]

Looking back at your Ask box…

… And realising you have Asks going back at least two years…

Which is a good thing bc I just accidentally found out someone blocked me that I think I only interacted w/ them all of once and I'm not sure why but I might know why and now I feel bad, and…

… Yeah. I'll. Uh. I'll go think about the Asks, maybe.

[wordsnwhiskey]

Is It Living If You've Left Your Life Behind?

Pairing: Dave York & GN!Reader

Summary: Thanks to you, Dave escaped the showdown with McCall. You planned to take him to a safehouse on the other side of the country where he could recover and get started on living a new life. In order to do that though, he has to leave his wife, his daughters and his life behind. He can't help but wonder, is it really living if he has to leave his life behind?

Rating: T for Language I guess

A/N: This is my late submission for @autumnleaves1991-blog 's Writer Wednesday. I got into my feels tonight and Dave was calling to me. It's my first time writing for him and this is a different take on Dave than I'd normally go for. A softer/angstier Dave but honestly, given this situation where he survives? I don't see classic Dave shining through, at least not until something kicks his ass into gear. The man is injured and more than a little lost. Also, I'll probably edit this later, it's 03:30 and apparently I have a knack for posting things when I should be asleep.

Masterlist | AO3

There was nothing but the open road ahead of him as he sat in the passenger seat, a permanent grimace affixed to his face. His pain ebbed and flowed but at least that meant he was alive. Alive with nothing but the open road ahead of him and his entire life behind him.

Dave really only had you to thank for that. A life debt for a life debt even if it meant he no longer had his life, not really at least. His girls were well over a thousand miles behind him, everything he’d known and loved, he’d likely never see again. You were the only thing Mac hadn’t counted on and even though Dave had lost religion a long time ago, he thanked whatever god or higher power out there that you had kept your head about you during the showdown.

He had been furious at first that you hadn’t tried to kill McCall, only stalled long enough to get him and yourself out of there under the cover of the storm. His anger had quickly dissipated though, you had made the right call, of course. He still had trouble seeing out of his eye, a concussion from being blown off of his feet and plenty of bruises complemented the odd cut or two Mac had managed to land. Things would have been a lot worse had you not intervened.

You glanced over at Dave, hunched over, curling himself into the passenger window. Dave fucking York. He had really gotten himself in it this time but you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame him. In this industry, shit decisions had to be made all the time and Lady Luck was rarely ever kind. People died, that was the business. What else was the married father of two supposed to do when he was cut loose? Assimilate? That kind of thing wasn’t for people like you or Dave York, not really. McCall was too high up on his high horse to get enough oxygen to his brain and too blinded by his own grief to see it.

Then again, you were definitely biased.

“How’s your pain level?”

You asked, and were met with a withering glare, his newly-crooked, hawkish nose only served to further accentuate the harshness in his eyes.

He hadn’t talked much during the already several day trip. Not that you needed the conversation, but you understood better than anyone he knew who was still alive aside from the man you were fleeing from, what this felt like. You hated how people romanticized it, leaving everything behind and starting over. It never worked that way. Your family and friends lived and died and you couldn’t be part of any of it. And now Dave, Dave had two daughters and a wife but they might as well be poison now. Poison to his mind, torture to think about. Poison to the touch if he ever went to see them again, because surely McCall would be watching them from afar, waiting.

The same thoughts seemed to be on his mind, from the corner of your eye you could see him slump further into the window, clutching a small photograph he had pulled from his wallet. For all that he was, former agent, mercenary, murderer, assassin, he was still a family man, a soft man at heart and going into hiding away from this family had just as much likelihood of killing him as McCall did.

“I’m not going to see them again am I?” Dave murmured as he stared down at the photo, thumb grazing over his daughters’ faces.

You opened your mouth then closed it again, contemplating giving him platitudes or the truth. He chuckled at your reaction, a hollow sound devoid of any humor.

“Spare me the bullshit.”

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened and you let out a sigh.

“I don’t know Dave. If McCall winds up dead then yeah, that’s an option. I haven’t been back to see my family but I don’t have the same… things anchoring me somewhere or drawing me back.”

Silently, he turned to resume watching the passing orange and brown landscape fly by.

It had been about another two hours since he last spoke and he had been so still and quiet, you thought he might have fallen asleep.

“Why’d you do it? Why are you doing this?”

His voice is gruffer, made thicker from the knot of emotion in his throat. It startles you out of your own reverie.

“Do what?”

“Why did you bother saving me? You could have made it out of there and been in another country by now. Fuck, you could have dumped me at a hospital anywhere along this godforsaken road and still be in another country by now.”

You frowned, somehow you had hoped his relative silence meant you would be able to get through this journey without delving into any sort of feelings.

“It crossed my mind, on both counts.”

He raised an eyebrow, not so much in surprise that you had thought about it, more so that you hadn’t gone through with it.

“I didn’t have any part in Susan’s death so McCall would have stopped hunting me eventually.”

You spared him a glance, he was staring at you intently, analyzing.

“Is this the part where you tell me you love me?”

You scoffed and looked at him incredulously then shook your head.

“No, it’s even more pathetic than that, Dave. You’re probably the closest thing to a friend I have and we’ve tried to kill each other before.”

That got a small laugh out of him, because really, what was more ridiculous in their line of work than friends?

Probably having a family. Dave grimaced as the thought echoed in his mind.

“We were the best at what we did.”

He said, with an air of nostalgia and you nodded in agreement.

“And the worst, somehow even with us each taking on contracts for the other, here we are, still living.”

The small smile faded from your lips at his silence and lack of a response. Your gaze fell on him again as he shrugged his mouth and sighed.

“Are we? Is it living if I’m leaving my life behind?”

This was not the Dave York you knew. Occasionally, you had seen the wry humor, and suave exterior give way to the side of him that accepted “New Hamster” as an answer instead of “New Hampshire” but not even that remained. The Dave next to you had all of those layers peeled back. He was raw and unsure.

You didn’t answer him for a few minutes, honestly there wasn’t much of anything you could say that wasn’t a load of shit. You were both too practical for pep talks. Moreover, it wasn’t a question you had even stopped to ask yourself. The answer and the journey to that answer was a dangerous one.

“I- …. It’s the best option you’ve got right now, Dave. It’s a pretty fucked situation, my advice? Take it one hour a time and if you can manage that, take it one day at a time.”

“An hour?” Dave shook his head and rubbed his stubbled chin with his hand. “All I’ve seen for hours is dirt and sand. While Mac is probably watching Carol and the girls like a fucking hawk.”

You pursed your lips, and eyed the upcoming sign detailing the available lodging and food at the upcoming exit.

“Well you’ll have the inside of our next motel room to stare at in another hour.”

Dave slipped back into silence and you simultaneously welcomed and detested it. Things were simpler without him getting all philosophical on you and contemplating what made living actually living. It hardly mattered though because he had already gone and planted that damned seed inside your brain.

You pulled up to a not entirely shitty motel and paid for the night before going back for Dave who was waiting in the car. The room wasn’t terrible and after a thorough check, you could at least confirm there weren’t any critters who would be keeping you company. At least there were two beds.

After a dinner of pizza from the diner down the road you had taken Dave on a detour to the gas station to get a burner phone. In your haste to put as much distance as possible between you and McCall, you hadn’t bothered to get him one earlier. Once that was finished you both headed back to your room to unwind.

Dave sat in one of the rickety chairs at the small table that seemed to be actively trying to shed it’s veneer layer. With a sigh, he went to work stripping and reassembling his pistol. It was calming, relaxing for him. All of the pieces had a purpose, an order, to be pulled apart then reassembled, very much unlike his life right now. Nothing had purpose or order and everything had been pulled apart, leaving him broken shards to piece back together.

Hours passed and by the look of him, you figured Dave’s fingers might have gone numb from the repetitive movements and his eyes were drooping, well his good eye was drooping more than normal since the one McCall had nearly managed to gouge was still a little worse for wear.

“Dave, get some sleep. You’re no good to me or yourself if you’re half asleep.”

You know he’s been fighting sleep for a while now, he does every night just like he fights the pain you’re sure he’s feeling but refuses to take anything for. For the first time since you two set off, you’re not annoyed by it. He’ll sleep soundly at least once he let’s exhaustion take him. All the better for what you have planned.

It wasn’t until 01:00 that Dave was finally asleep soundly enough that you felt you could get up without waking him. Quietly, you made for the table, using the flimsy pad of paper and pen there to write a note before you walked out the door and shut it behind you. Thankfully, the city you had stopped in was populated enough that rideshare services were available and in less time than you had figured, you were on your way to the airport.

Dave woke up and immediately knew something was off. It was too quiet and there was too much sun trying to peek through the curtains for it to be the usual time you both headed out for the day. He sat up quickly and grabbed his pistol, then looked around the room for any signs of danger until his eyes fell upon the pad of paper on the table. A sharp pain arched through his skull when he stood up, a remnant of his concussion. He took the note in hand and began to read:

Dave,

I figure, if I’m lucky, I’ve got 4 hours on you. If I’m really lucky, I’ve got 6. Anything more than that and I’m disappointed in you, Dave.

He looked up from the note at the digital clock on the nightstand, it read 07:30. A wry grin threatens to take shape on his lips. You’d be disappointed.

I’m not going to make this some sort of sappy letter. I don’t have time for that shit. You were right. It isn’t really living if you’ve left your life behind. Out of the two of us, you’re the only one who really has one to miss. The only way you get to go back to Carol, Molly and Alice is if McCall is out of the picture, so I’m going to give it a shot. I left you enough cash to pay the room through the week and then some. If you don’t hear from me after a week, call the number at the bottom of this note and tell him you’re cashing in a favor for me. He’ll help you out. Might even know someone else who can help with your family. I left you the car, keys are on my bed.

Good Luck.

Dave’s throat went dry and then he saw at least four shades of red before he finally calmed down to assess the situation. Then all at once, it was like ice had been poured in his veins and things began to shift into focus.

What the fuck was he doing?

This entire time he had been wallowing, perhaps well earned, but he should have been planning. He had let his grief for the loss of Susan, the storm of emotions he felt seeing Mac still alive and a simple job that had spun drastically out of control, completely cloud his judgement. He was just as well trained as Mac, but he had let his anger and emotions get the best of him on that watchtower, he couldn’t let that happen again.

Dave moved quickly and methodically as he collected everything he needed from the room and headed out to the car. He really shouldn’t drive with his eye being what it was but he only needed to get to the airport and he could make it that far at least.

He couldn’t let Mac kill you, like Ari, Reznik, and Kovac. Family.

Like hell if he was going to let the closest person he had to a friend get killed.

If anyone was going to kill you, it’d be him, just for you trying to pull off something as stupid as this.

He knew this was the best move though, Mac wouldn't be expecting an attack this soon this time, the attack wouldn't be in the middle of gale force winds on Mac's home turf. You... and he would have the upper hand this time.

Dave got through the airport with relative ease thanks to him having TSA pre-check, no one bothered to ask him about his eye which he did his best to hide with a baseball cap.

He sat down and waited for his flight to be called. Mentally, he began going through the disassembly and reassembly of the rifle he had with him at the watchtower to help focus himself and pass the time.

The PA system broke his concentration and alerted him that it was time to board. Dave was tense when he finally got to his seat and sat down. His jaw was set in concentration as he started to come up with a new battleplan and weighing his options. Yes, he was injured but he'd been through worse on missions and come out on top.

At least one person was going to die by the end of the week and he'd be damned if you and him weren't the last ones standing.

Thanks for reading, tagging a few people interested/who might be interested:

@wheresarizona @pascalsimp @beesting77 @boxdyeblonde @lackofhonor @kaybrownies @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @elegantduckturtle @janebby @faithkeeper-81 @doin-stuff @danniburgh @pascalslittlebrat @mothandpidgeon @mouthymandalorianalso @phoenixhalliwell @kesskirata @starlightmornings @wyn-dixie

[orionlakehastodie]

Villainholics Anonymous

"It's the height." This was from Alina, their newest member.

"No. I still say it's the hair." This from Brienne. The only blonde one.

"It's the cocky ass way they smile." This from Lily Potter - the vice president.

"And do they all have to be so bloody handsome? Like if villain why hot?" Rey. And her age old problem.

"Admit it ladies. It's their dicks. Their gloriously large and thick dicks." Lizzie Bennet. The president of this club.

There were choruses of assent from all the women - all who had their unable to walk days in various stages of soreness. Today was Lizzie's turn. Fitzwilliam Darcy the menace had been particularly eager the night before.

The Villainholics Anonymous was officially in session to annoint their newest member - Alina Starkov.

"Alright, now we have to hear from our newest member. Alina, you have the floor." Lizzie took advantage of the silence before Rey can wax poetic about Ben's face when sunlight hits it when she watches him sleep in the mornings, or before Lily can sing praises about her husband always getting up to change Harry's nappies and how can a villain be that adorable.

Alina cleared her throat and sighed. "My name is Alina Starkov and I'm a villainholic."

"Hi, Alina." Chorused the other women in sympathy.

"It all started when he pushed up my sleeve and got into my face going all 'what are you' in his hot, deep voice with that accent."

Alina's eyes glaze over and Brienne nods in sympathy.

"It's like they tell you you're the ugliest woman they've ever seen but they're like stripping you naked with their eyes and they love what they see? It's like... turning you on?" Brienne squirms in her chair, subtle smile on her lips.

"Or you know they tell you 'I can take whatever I want' in that annoyingly Disney prince charming handsome face and you're all tied up and you're just thinking damn if I get those plush lips you can take whatever you want and more-"

"Yes Rey, we know. Ben Solo has a face carved by angels and wept over by poets - let Alina speak!" Rey shot Lizzie of disdain before sighing and turning to the large framed photo of a shirtless Ben Solo she kept at her side during these meetings for "emotional support".

Lizzie clears her throat and turns back to Alina. "Do go on, Alina."

"And then he comes and cuts a man in half. And I have blood and gore all over my face but he sweeps over in his ridiculous black cape-"

"Ah yes. It's always the cape." Lizzie smiles, remembering her husband walking through a moor.

"Whatever Lizzie - Darth Darcy is better than Darcy! My husband made that shit fashion." Rey sticks her tongue out at Lizzie and she retaliates by kicking at Rey's chair.

"As I was saying!" Alina glows a little bit brighter with her ire, wanting to share more about her precious Sasha.

"He takes me up into his arms and gets me up on his horse and his chest is so big and warm around me and his arms are so muscly and I just felt like... so safe and hugged and saints when I hug him and I feel all that delicious muscle wrapped around me and I just-"

Alina pauses to fan herself, remembering Aleksander's steamy hugs and how it would lead to her naked and impaled on Aleksander's huge dick.

Lily pats her hand in sympathy and shakes her head. "They're so good at that, at looming so tall and so pretty, with the ridiculous you're mine smiles on their faces and they scramble your brain with their yummy glorious smell and the way it feels so warm when they hold you. Like, what evil motherfucker smells like treacle and woods and comfort?" Lily is still very angry that her amortentia just really smells James Potter amplified. How dare this man.

"Anyway you think you'd move on from them, and then bam. He invites me to all these horse back riding just him and me, and he makes me wear his black kefta."

Brienne whistles at Alina's statement. "These fuckers are good at that. Giving you marriage swords, and marriage keftas. Like - Jaime even went as far as to say it's yours, it will always be yours swords that stand in for my heart. And they look so puppy like when they give it to you and you're just like... omg I'm married. Villains. That's true villainry right there." But even as Brienne says it, she strokes Oathkeeper fondly at her hip.

Alina nods her head, wrapping her own black kefta around her. "And you know it makes you feel like it's just you and him and you don't need anyone else and the next thing you know you're sucking his face in his office, and itching to get his dick inside you."

Murmurs of sympathy from all the women.

"And how is it that a villain can kiss like that? Like they're off to go to war the next fucking day?" Alina blushes as she remembers how she was pressed down into that giant map and if Ivan did not come bother them she would have been dicked down on that map too... okay so she had been dicked down on the map. Once. Maybe twice. Okay maybe once every week.

Rey sniffs and brings out Ben's sweater than she uses to wipe her tears. Lily groans in disgust.

"Rey, honestly that sweater is nasty."

Rey glares at Lily and looks down at her worn quidditch jersey with Potter 01 emblazoned at the back.

"You're one to talk Lily. Anyway. I totally understand Alina, like they kiss you and suck your soul out and make you wonder if they can kiss your pussy the same way they kiss your lips and then they fade away, into the Force, before you can ride that large dick."

Brienne throws a popcorn at Rey. "Don't be such a drama queen Rey. You brought back that fuckable redwood you call a husband from the world between worlds and rode that dick into the sunset after. Mine died in a random as fuck explosion."

Lizzie scoffs at Brienne's words. "And you clobbered Dumb and Dumber in the head and rewrote Jaime back as the rightful heir of Casterly Rock and rode that dick into the sunset."

Brienne rolls her eyes. "Not everyone can have a happy ending walking in the morning mist to kiss me and propose marriage. Some of us had to correct the writing of dumb men. Be thankful a smart woman wrote yours, Lizzie."

Rey nods in sympathy. And Alina clears her throat. This was her Sasha's time to shine. These women.

"Anyway, then after they kiss you like that, you find out they're evil and then they try and kill your friend - as if you want any other dick than their villain dick - but even their jealousy is so hot and so you pretend they're evil, but then you get this weird bond connection thing and suddenly he can just appear in your room like that. I mean, they're already so hot - then they appear heartbroken and pining after you and pretending they hate you but they're just like softboi TM and the next thing you know you're naked and making inappropriate use of the Force Bond."

Alina stops and fans herself, remembering just how inappropriate she and Aleksander have been through the bond, how full of him she was afterwards she leaked him out throughout the day-

"It's them always showering when the bond connects!" Rey's exclamation brought her out of her reverie.

"Like, is he just always showering 24/7 to let me see his beautiful tiddies? And like, am I supposed to not strip and lick them tiddies when I see them? It's like the Force Bond is designed so we can feel bad for the villain and fuck them senseless. Again - if villain why so fucking hot?"

Alina nods in sympathy as Rey is currently sitting on an ice pack because Ben had ridden her vagina sore. It's the damned bond sex. Those always go haywire.

"And then... they become the selfless idiot TM, deciding to let themselves be stabbed in the heart and tells you they're human with you and then when they get resurrected do they get back with you?"

Alina and Rey clutch each other ugly tears pouring and Brienne nods with them, tears pouring from her eyes.

"No. No they bloody don't the wankers. They ride off into a war and get killed by rubble!" Brienne slams her fist on the table and takes a deep swig of her butterbeer.

"They become one with the Force after kissing you senseless and making you feel like you're home!" Rey wails hugging Alina close to her.

"They get speared by a fucking tree to tie the universe back together!" Alina clutches back at Rey wiping at her eyes.

"They tell a Dark Wizard to fuck himself while telling you to save your only son!"

Lily joins the hugging ladies and drags Brienne into it as well.

Lizzie sighs and pounds on her gavel. "Ladies, ladies. Get over yourselves. Your men are back with you - Brienne - Jaime is at Casterly Rock because he said fuck that to riding back to Cersei and stayed with you. Rey, Ben is probably grumbling his way through another Republic meeting because he also said fuck that to becoming one with the Force and crawled back to you. And Alina - sweetheart, Aleksander is out of the tree - because he said fuck that to not being with you. We're here to make sure Alina finds her husband hot because he's now reformed. We don't like hot villains!"

The ladies gathered themselves and Alina wipes her tears and flushes.

"So... anyway, two days ago, Sasha came back from a peace talk with Fjerda, and he was really angry because we just got intelligence about Parem. And he said... we should have kept the Fold so he can just kill them all... and... and I found it so hot, so I... I stripped him naked right then and there in the war room and sucked him dry."

Sympathetic grumbles came out from the other ladies.

"Don't worry Alina, we're all here to get this temptation out of you - but I get it. Villains are hot. Sometimes I make Ben wear the mask..." Rey wipes her tears and sighs dreamily and Lily clears her throat.

"Rey-"

Rey blinks and shakes her head. "Right, right, villains are not hot."

"Alina," Lizzie begins but her phone started buzzing. She peeks at it and her eyes widen, and a familiar flush takes over her face. Brienne catches sight of it and smirks.

"Darcy calling you inferior of birth again, Liz?"

Lily grabs Lizzie's phone and giggles. "Darcy got himself in a lake and wondering when dear Lizzie is coming home."

Rey snickers. "I'm betting it's now."

"Shut up you lot, anyway Alina-"

But Alina was already packing up her bags. "Alina?"

"Sorry. Aleksander just came back from Grisha training - and he said if I'm not home in 30 minutes he'll take all that I hold dear so I only have him. I'm gonna get railed. See you guys next week."

She was out the door in a minute flat and Brienne laughs.

"Remind me, why do we do this again? Last week Rey got called home by Ben who said she was his sweet nothing and she came to the meeting today sitting on a vagina pack."

Lizzie merely rolls her eyes and stands up too. "Well, where else can we brag about having tall, hot loving husbands with big dicks who challenge us mentally and love us for challenging them back? I'll see you girls, I bought more of those vagina ice bags, sounds like we'll all need them."

[reynie-muldoons]

'Depends on the Wagon' liveblog!

I saw someone do timestamps in their liveblog and it was absolutely lovely, so I think I'll try that too

1:55 why does Curtain sound like an mlm ceo LMAO

2:07 WOW ASSHOLE 😂😂 waving off your own teacher when he was complimenting you is not the vibe

2:17 so Dr. Curtian is only available through chain emails. Got it.

2:27 he seems like the kind of asshole to say that people on welfare are lazy and exploitave but then like, not pay his taxes

2:42 I DON'T LIKE HOW HE SAID THAT, THAT WAS CREEPY

2:47 oooooh Constance, always asking the right questions

3:05 Kate, why are you yelling, it's literally past curfew 😂

3:35 oh hai Jackson.. gtfo

4:22 oh yeah, the best way out is through the hallway that Jackson just entered. Good plane, babe.

4:25 soooo Kate Depending On Friends arc :)

4:59 AYYY HI RHONDA!!

5:13 why do I kinda fucking love then all deciphering the Morse code together

5:20 so the kids use the gemini riddle? Not the adults???

5:36 his face when he figures it out 😭😭😭

5:46 Nathaniel? Guess that's Dr. Curtain's name now. Less ridiculous than Ledroptha, but you dont get the badass Let Drop the Curtain reference

6:53 okay so no one knew he had a brother? But he did???

7:21 his faaaace 🥺

7:29 AWWW HE COULDNT BRING HIMSELF TO SHARE 😭😭😭 okay I'm kinda on board with the change if they can make it work in the long-haul

7:42 hi Milligan, good timing 😂

7:56 "not the time.........I'll take a dozen" Number Two my LOVE

8:23 interesting. I dont think Mr. Benedict was adopted in the books? He certainly didn't let Violet's family, the Hopefields, because he knew their financial troubles would be even worse. So who?

8:54 ohhhh dear, stages of grief at work. Maybe don't do that

9:05 I talked about this in the MBS discord server, but I think the show is really nailing Mr. Benedict's feelings. He's always been an emotional person, but he has to be so careful. Bottling up your feelings only leads to bigger feelings later. It makes so much sense for Mr. Benedict to be a whirlpool of strong, repressed emotions.

9:11 MILLIGAN'S FACE JAHAHS

9:34 RHONDA'S FACE HAGSKDGDJ

9:40 Mr. Benedict, sweetheart 🥺❤

10:01 "brothers stick together" why does it sound like he's talking about Reynie here 😭😭😭😭

10:12 that is a good ass point, Mr. Benedict already lied to them once

10:21 it makes sense for Sticky to be the one questioning the most because of his anxiety, but damn

10:46 AWWWWWW

10:56 KATE MAKING A BED FORT KATE MAKING A BED FORT KATE MAKING A BED FORT

11:00 I dont like how aggressive Kate is but it makes sense considering she's been in the circus for years, taking care of herself for far longer than she hasn't. She's not good at depending on people, and she's not good with difficult people.

11:10 Yeahh, Constance gets it!

11:40 Yeahhh, Constance gets it

12:55 that teacher seemed pretty nice last episode, nice to see that they're not what they seem just the same as Dr. Curtain lol

13:28 CONSTANCE I LOVE YOU 😂😂

14:00 "check again" okay so Krista from the tests and Martina give off the same vibe.. perfect 😂

14:16 "yeah......hang in there :D"

15:05 all of the apologies to the general class.. he's such an anxious sweetheart. He's really reading as autistic to me.

My sister just called me 😑 it's like 8 am, I answered her like "did you ever consider that you might be waking me up?" She did not consider that 😂

15:22 Martina's face just growing more and more annoyed and disgruntled HAHA

15:29 that was CORRECT?? WHAAAA

15:51 throwback to when I compared Dr. Curtain to an mlm ceo.. definitely like a cult

16:44 ohhhh Martina

17:30 CONSTANCE HEARING VOICES HELLOOOOO

18:22 ayyyyyy helper man

18:40 he seems too cheery to be a helper .-. The helpers all being super sad made [redacted]'s story make a whole lot more sense

19:35 aaaand now we get to it. You know, it really does seem a lot more cultish on screen than in the book

19:53 WAIT CONSTANCE GOOD JOB PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER 😂😂😂😂

19:53 that cut to Milligan making that exact face was INCREDIBLE

20:05 was he tryna leave? Yeah, good fuckin luck bucko

20:10 "critical papers at home" my ass, they packed everything up

20:24 the stages of grief back at it. 🥺

20:38 their relationship >>>>

21:00 "located in the..?" *description of envelope* "located in the....?" *more description* "located in the????" 😂😂😂😂

21:34 ohhhhh Thursday must be the student ranking day

21:56 Martina seems like the kind to throw out "pick a god and pray" as a crit quote 😂

22:07 I don't see any of the Society'a names on the list. Maybe they havent been there long enough

22:17 OH SHIT JK THERE THEY ARE

22:25 ohh Kate and Constance

22:55 the combination of the ferry horn and the bell makes it weirdly grim

23:55 them bringing Kate up and reminding her that she's needed 😌✨

24:29 hi Milligan bb ilyyyy

24:35 real good lookout guys, y'all are so well hidden

24:52 AYY HE'S DOING IT KATE STYLE

26:31 "visionary" is a word for it

26:31 I really kinda love that Number Two and Rhonda are going to such depths to try and help Mr. Benedict figure this out for sure

26:56 Mr. Benedict fully walking away while they talk about his brothers accomplishments 😂 I'm laughing, but poor guy

27:08 his FACE 🥺

27:28 HERE'S THAT TANTRUM FROM THE TRAILER

27:28 take your guesses how many times will he fall asleep

27:50 "he just has to work through some things" you dont fuckin say

27:55 you mean to tell me he had a full blown meltdown and they didn't show him falling asleep once??

28:35 like father like daughter 😌✨

29:10 ayyyy secret desk compartment

29:19 honestly I'm surprised there were actually papers he needed and it wasnt an excuse to go confront Dr. Curtain

29:32 oh shit, how'd they manage to get that far inside? No one was there to guard it, but the maze itself is a security measure

29:42 KATE STYLE STRIKES AGAIN

29:47 ooooh I like Dr. Curtain's office

30:01 WAS THAT SQ AND DID HE JUST CALL DR. CURTAIN HIS DAD

30:41 birds have careers. Got it 😂

30:50 JOURNAAAL

31:02 the fox?? Reynard the fox???

31:27 ohhh here we go, Dr. Curtain sees himself in Reynie only to resent it later

31:37 Mr. Benedict called Reynie a leader once too.. the parallels have ✨begun✨

32:12 is this the "keep your enemies close" conversation??

32:15 I'm honestly surprised he called him Sticky and not George

32:42 IT IS SQ IT IS SQ IT IS SQ

32:59 sooo that starts by not letting his caution down with you

33:11 Dr. Curtain congratulating himself mid-conversation on saying something deep is so in character

33:20 "I was betrayed by someone very close to me" so that was Mr. Benedict. Who the fuck else would it be

33:23 WHAT DID I SAAAAY

33:31 oh noooo Reynie starts doubting Mr. Benedict here? Is that the move?

33:43 that transition was so pretty stoppp

33:53 again how hasn't he fallen asleep

34:55 ayyyy journal snooping

35:05 Constance, my love, you are cut throat

35:11 Milligan is in the DRYWALL? ohh buddy be careful

35:21 omfg are they talking about water polo 😂 I love that that's the sport of choice

35:51 ayyyy they put the Milligan dots together too. Shame the guy's not with them rn

36:36 so Mr. Benedict brings up cheating first? I really like how we get to see the adults riddling out what to send back, we didn't get that at all in the books

37:46 I LOVE THAT THEY KEPT "don't get caught"

38:51 Kate riddling out the island schematics engineer style is so like her

39:07 they're just walking out the door?? Huh???

39:29 babe... turn off your flashlight

39:33 AND THAT'S WHY

39:58 is that the precursor to chuckroot?

40:38 the papers were from his orphanage 🥺🥺🥺

41:14 why does that break my heart

41:19 Dr. Curtain and SQ doing shit together it just.. so heartwarming

42:00 HAHA

42:16 okay, so show!Curtain is a kissass 😂

42:35 wait wait wait so Dr. Curtain is actively trying to contain his brother? That would explain why the Recruiters were looking for him and weirdly not the kids

43:25 "power wants to be free" sounds more like a personal mantra than a conversation between engineers

43:41 YES A LETTER TO MISS PERUMAL

44:02 more voices. Poor Connie girl 🥺

44:36 he loves her so much 😭😭😭

44:45 SHE TRIED TO SEND HIM A CARE PACKAGE

45:13 WORRIED MOM TIMEEE

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Ecstasy [Prologue]

Monologue

By the time I was finally released from the punishment room,

I had made two more comrades,

aside from Kou.

One smart and dependable guy,

and another fellow who’s kinda creepy and always covered in scars,

but somehow I can’t bring myself to ignore him.

It felt somewhat different from my relationship with Boss and the others,

but strangely enough,

I genuinely thought of these dudes as my companions.

I’m sure it’s because we all had the same goal.

The four of us gathered together,

and came up with a plan to escape this Hell.

And one evening, 

we finally made up our minds.

Bear: When are we putting this plan into action?

Ruki: Tomorrow evening. We won’t take any luggage with us. Leave everything behind. Understood?

Kou: Yeah!

Bear: Roger.

Azusa: If you guys…say so…

Bear: ( I don’t know if my luck is good or bad, but I survived till now. )

( Boss, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take your dream upon me instead. )

( I’ll change this country, so please wait just a little longer. )

( ...To fulfill said dream, I’ll definitely escape this place. )

( Don’t worry. Right now, I have comrades who are just about as reliable as you guys were. )

( I’m sure...It’ll go well. )

*TIMESKIP*

Bear:  ( ...In just a few more hours, the night will fall. )

( We can’t get our timing wrong. We won’t get a second chance if our plan is exposed. ...We only get one shot. )

( Right, I should prepare to set the fiーー )

Youngster: ...! Oi, you!

Bear: ( ...Che, did he find out!? )

Youngster: I knew it! Thank god, you survived!

Bear: ...? Who are you?

Orphan A: It’s me, Leo! I lived in the village next to yours! We often went fishing in the past, remember?

Bear: Leo...?

Orphan A: Well, we were still children, so I guess I can’t blame you for not remembering. We’ve both changed as well. I didn’t recognize you at first glance either.

But I was worried about you this whole time. After what happened to your village...Your home was burnt to the ground as well.

Bear: Burnt...?

( What’s this? It rings a bell... )

( ...Right! That dream! When Boss had only just picked me up, I would often have dreams about fires! )

( Don’t tell me, this is a guy I knew in the past I can’t recall...!? )

Say, Leo! There’s something I want to asーー!

*THUD*

Orphan A: Guah...!?

*Thud*

Bear: ...!? Oi!

Orphan A: ...Uu...

Bear: Fuck...What do you think you’re doing, bastard!?

Gang Boss: Excuse me? ...Isn’t that my line? Right, Bear?

Bear: ...Che, look who’s back. You’ve made your return earlier than I expected.

Gang Boss: Thanks to you, yeah. (1)

Bear: What do you want now? Have you come to get beaten to pulp?

Gang Boss: Yeah, exactly. Howeverーー

You are the one who’ll end up beaten and bruised!

Bear: ...You’ve gathered some comrades because you know you can’t win by yourself? Whether you bring nobody or a whole gang, the end result won’t change.

Gang Boss: ...Per usual, you know how to run your mouth.

Anyway, your prolonged life ends right here. It’s been quite a while since your Boss died, but time has finally come.

Bear: You piece of shit...Why today out of all days!? You’ve got shit timing.

Gang Boss: Enough talking! Your beloved Boss is waiting for you in the afterlife!

Bear: Che...!

Kou: ーー Bear!!

Bear: Kou!?

Ruki: We were wondering what was taking you so long, but what are you doing!?

Bear: Don’t blame me! They’re the ones who started this!

Kou: I’m pretty sure you take some blame too though.

Ruki: That doesn’t matter! Hurry up and finish your quarrel! If we let this chance slip by, we’re done for!

Bear: Oh, I’m well...aware!

*THUD*

Ruki: In that case, we’ll use this commotion to our advantage. Kou, you light the fire instead!

Kou: Roger!

Ruki: I’ll lure in the guards from one side. You guys make as much of a fuss as you can! However, make sure they don’t get the upper hand on you!

When I give you the signal, we’ll dash through the gate at once! Understood!?

Bear: Piece of cake!

Azusa: Can I be the one getting punched...?

Bear: That’s no option! We’re gonna be the ones doing the punching! ーー Let’s go!!

Monologue

ーー In the end, the plan we spent days setting up,

did not go as planned.

However, luck was on our side,

and we succeeded,

at making our escape from that Hellhole.

ーー Spread out in front of my eyes once outside,

was an almost transluscent blue sky.

Seems like it is sunny out today.

It has been a while since I gazed up at the sky.

Perhaps that is why, the usual blue sky and white clouds,

seemed extremely beautiful for some reason.

I couldn’t help but think,

that the world is beautiful.

We may have escaped prison,

but the world we would have to live in now,

is most definitely rotten.

I will change this country, change the world. 

For that reason, I desperately kept on running.

Regardless, the clear blue skies,

were so beautiful, every time I raised my head,

I somehow grew emotional.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the living room

Ruki: How have things been going as of late?

Yuma: ...No change, really.

Ruki: You’ve been sucking her blood, no? Have you not been experiencing any signs? Of Adam?

Yuma: ...Don’t think so? Not sure tho.

Ruki: ...Yuma.

Yuma: Shut up, I know! Stop remindin’ me over and over, it’s annoyin’!

Ruki: ...Are you rushing?

Yuma: ...

Ruki: Rushing will not make you Adam. That is up to Eve’s blood to decide.

Yuma: ...I know that shit.

Ruki: Then don’t rush. Even if you are in a hurry, it will not benefit the situation.

However...I am sure you are aware that things cannot remain like this forever?

Our objective is not to become Adam. It is to return our favor to that man by doing so.

If you continue to not show any signs of awakening, then we’llーー

Yuma: Don’t say that!!

Ruki: ...Judging by your reaction, seems like you have realized as well. Yuma. ...That we are unable of becoming Adam.

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ...Either way, I’m glad you seem to understand at least. Either way, I am not asking you to act upon this right away.

However, as soon as we receive an order from that man, I will take action as well. Do not forget that.

ー Ruki steps away

Yuma: ...Givin’ her to those Sakamaki’s? Don’t be kiddin’ me.

...I will become Adam.

No way I’ll let those damn rich people steal Boss’ dream as well...!

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

*Chop chop chop*

Yui: ( ...There we go. Now I just have to put all the ingredients inside and let it simmer. )

( Ah, right. I’ll add the cabbage we got from Yuma-kun’s garden the other daーー )

*Rustle*

ー The screen suddenly fades to black

Yui: Eh!? 

( W-What!? Things suddenly went dark...Hold on, somebody is covering my eyes!? )

Yuma: Keep still.

Yui: That voice, Yuma-kuーーNn!

( He covered my mouth as well...! )

ー Yuma bites her

Yuma: Hah...Nn...

Yui: Ah, ow...!

( W-Why did he suddenly bite me...!? )

Yuma: Nn...Nn...!

Haah...This side’s up next...Don’t ya dare tense up.

Yui: ( N-No...What is he doing!? I can’t tell since I can’t see a thing!. ...I’m scared...! )

Nn, nnnn...!

Yuma: ...Che, you’re so noisy. But it’s no use. Stay like that.

A humans’ remainin’ senses grow more sensitive when one is lost, right?

So by taking yer vision like this, I’ll make ya focus on only my fangs.

I’d love to take yer hearing too but...Nn...

Yui: ...! Nn...!

Yuma: I’m pretty sure it’ll be more effective...If I let ya listen to the sound of me devourin’ ya, mixed in with yer own sounds.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Hah...Hah...!

Yuma: There ya go. I’ll release yer mouth. ...Cry out all ya want.

Come on, concentrate. Focus on only yer ears and body.

My fangs are the only thing you’re allowed to feel.

If ya feel it with yer whole body, ya should figure out that I’m Adam already. Right...!? 

*Thud*

Yui: ...Ah...!

Yuma: ...Hurry up...Hurry up and realize, Eve...!

Hurry up and make me Adam...!

Monologue

ーー Ever since that day, 

Yuma-kun became more aggressive than ever.

His irritation continued visibly growing,

and all of said frustration was pointed directly,

at my skin.

The bite marks which increased with each passing day,

made me experience his impatience first hand.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) おかげさま or ‘okage sama’ is usually used to thank someone for their help, but in this context, it is obviously meant in a sarcastic way.

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Maniac Epilogue ] [ Ecstasy 01 ] ->

[hollowmossart]

Alright I don’t know what prompted this. It’s 11:06 at night, although time is fake so who knows. General TW/CW for mentions of violence and such. It’s fanfiction. side note: these are all fictions I find while scrolling Ao3 that I get stronger reactions to the tags or description from! If any of these are yours and you do not want them here, please message me and tell me

This will also include my reaction to the fan fictions but entirely judging the book my it’s cover (in this case, tags, fandoms, and descriptions) on whether I would read/have read or not. If I’ve read it, there will be a rating/recommendation

-Assimilate by AlacrityAbound-

•words: 2,882•

Rating: Incomplete, Teen+, M/M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Description:

”He saved them all, he had to remember that. He had saved everyone from this terrible fate, from the life he now had to live. They didn’t understand, would never understand, nor would they know the lengths their Voice would go to protect them.”

H-huh??? No no no this sounds painful.

Tags:

“The smiling god”

oh no

”hurt and very little comfort”

EXCUSE ME? PLEASE NO

”believeinasmilingcecil”

OKAY LISTEN. IVE WRITTEN THIS BEFORE. IVE COSPLAYED THIS BEFORE. BUT F-CK THIS AU LMAO

”betrayal”

um. to whom,, may i ask??

Will I be reading this?

Maybe if I grow to a point of numb where I turn to Strex!Cecil in order to feel? Maybe if I just need to cry.

-Dinner Break by StarshipRangerBoyWonder-

Rating: Completed, M/M, General Aud.

•words: 1,717•

Description:

"Cecil’s in desperate need of some food. Lucky for him, Carlos comes to the rescue."

Firstly, this sounds like sm-t, though it’s not marked as being such. I do have to note, one of the fandoms listed, along with the obvious WNTV, is. McDonalds..? Is there actually a fandom?? Secondly, Carlos to the rescue.

Tags:

”Cecil/Chicken Nuggets”

Please.. please tell me this is not a ship. This can’t be right??? Wot?? I’m scared mom come pick me up. I need Carlos and Martin(tma) and my boyfriend in a cuddle pile with me right now.

”duck”

..duck goose?

”Kentucky does not exist” “I repeat” “Kentucky” “does” “Not” “exist”

Gotcha! Makes perfect sense! thank you night vale

Will I be reading this?

likely.. not. the tags mixed with the description have me in fear of my brain cells. i have so few left.

-Absolutely Facinating, Scientifically Speaking, by zombified_queer

Rating: Completed , Teen+, M/M

•words: 584•

Description:

"Carlos was just out doing some shopping when he just about had a heart attack. Still, it was facinating, scientifically speaking."

To be fair, without the tags this one would not have caught my eyes, however, the tags are as follows:

Tags:

"Earl Harlan is a merman"

Okay... Go on..?

"The aquatic hamster ball"

Firstly, huh? I think I have been in one of these. It leaked and got my jeans wet. Secondly, really weird deja vu right there.

"Earl is loosely based on the zebra turkeyfish"

..The what now? DId I miss a few episodes or--

Will I read this?

It is relatively short for my liking, however, I have extrmely curious. I've read the works of this fandom and I've seen just how weird it can be. I might.

A remembrance of strange things, by Pseudothyrum

Rating: Completed, M/M, General Aud.

•words: 630•

Description:

"There isn't enough coffee in the world to deal with Night Vale"

Me reading some of the tags/descriptions of fanfiction at what is now 11:57pm on a Monday. Giving off the vibes of a Cecil POV.

Tags:

"wall tentacles"

... what? yknow.. its not as strange as it could be..

"crack"

ah a crack fic. that last tag is a bit less concerning now.

"definitely not ghosts"

hey uhh i think they're might actually be ghosties.

"blood"

did i accidently find a hannibal x will fic.

Will I read this?

Again, it is super short, so I likely won't. I gotta point out, most wtnv fanfiction would be considered crack fic by any other fandom, so this fandom's idea of 'crack fic' concerns me. I might check it out. Not super high on my look out.

-Endless Wedge, by the_angst_alchemist

Rating: Major Ch. Death, M/M, complete

•words: 1,397•

Description:

"Years have passed since that snowfall way back when, and Carlos can still recall every second when he wasn't able to say those words to the man he cared about. So in order to keep that broken voice preserved in his mind, he's kept his own voice quiet."

..Oh wow. Ow. This one caught my eye with tags that made me giggle, but a caption that made me well aware I will cry upon reading it. The description suggests it is well written, I want to even say beautiful. It also hurts because how dare you make Carlos sad?

Tags:

"Carlos doesn't cope well with death"

:( baby no its okay (Have I mentioned I'm a simp?)

"Cecil doesn't cope well with being dead"

I think that's the general consensus of the public, Ceec

"endless wedge"

Sounds like this is describing an emotion? Maybe the wedge of pain in my heart when I read this.

Will I read this?

Oh no doubt in my wee brain. I wish to hurt this good please. It seems amazingly written judging solely on the description, and has a decent amount of words for my liking! I will update when I have read it. I just noticed it's a part two, so I might have even more pain to bear first.

I will update this post when I go through more! It's currently 12:25AM on 12/01/20 on a god damned Tuesday why did I hyperfixate on this for an hour and a half.

[jettingtothemoon]

Rescue You; chapter 6

➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader ➳ genre: fantasy, angst ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3. ➳ word count: 3324 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n, a witch from Dracula’s court, tries to save the forgemaster from his fate.  ➳ a/n: this one is a little longer because i was on a roll and wrote more than expected

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

Doubt

He didn't move, nor did he speak. You were not sure whether to take his silence as a good sign or a bad one but nonetheless, you were ready to explain yourself to him until his hands gently pulled your arms away from him.

You stepped back, allowing him to turn around once again, but remained in his close proximity.

"No, you don't," he decided for you, not once meeting your eyes.

You reached out and placed a hand to his cheek, tenderly caressing your thumb against his warm skin. "Yes, I do."

He gently shook his head and pulled your hand from his cheek. "No one loves me. No one ever has, no one ever will."

"But I do and I think I have for a long time. I only realised it recently myself. Why do you think I kept Cezar with me? Why do you think I put myself in danger by coming here? You always knew I didn't agree with Dracula's plan so why would I be here to help them carry it out now?"

He looked up, his eyes finally meeting your own, and for a moment, he almost looked as if he believed you.

"I'm not lying to you. I've never lied to you but I am lying to them. I want to teach you magic so that when the day comes that I figure out how to get that damn ring off of your finger, you will be able to fight back," you continued, solidifying your point.

You hoped he believed you. You needed him to. If he didn't trust you then it would be so much harder to save him. His features had softened but there was still something in them that showed you he didn't believe you, or that he didn't want to believe you.

Once again, you reached out and placed your fingers under his chin, lifting his head to face you properly. "Hector, why don't you believe me?"

He was quiet for a moment but allowed you to rest your hand on his cheek. His eyes flickered over to yours and he took in a deep breath. "I do. I do believe you. It makes sense, you make sense but- but you can't."

You furrowed your brows. "Can't what?"

"Love me." His eyes strayed from yours once again, now looking at the ground.

"Why? Why can't I? Hector, I can't help if you don't talk to me."

His eyes locked with yours again for a second only to stray all over again, "Because of her."

"Lenore?" you asked and the subtle nod of his head confirmed it.

"She won't allow it. She- She-"

"What has she done to you? To make you fear her, hate her, this much? She doesn't seem to be physically harming you so what is she doing?" This time, you pried for an answer. You needed to know, you needed to make sense of everything.

He turned away, once again facing his forge with his back to you as he muttered, "It doesn't matter anymore. She doesn't come anymore because- because of you."

"But it does matter. Whether it happened before I arrived or after. Whatever it is matters because it is clearly still hurting you." You tried to get him to open up, you could see the hurt in his eyes and you knew it would never go away if he kept it bottled up inside.

"I... I don't want you to know. You've seen me at my worst but... but not that." The sound of his shattered voice broke you and another tear fell from your cheek.

You still didn't know what it was, what she had done to him, but you could see how ashamed Hector was of it. He knew that you had seen the broken pieces of him because you were the one who had picked them up, you were the one putting him back together. Despite this, he couldn't bring himself to tell you the one thing you felt you needed to know the most. You needed to know so that you could understand him, so that you could protect him.

"Look at me," he obeyed your soft words and his eyes met yours again, "No matter what it is, I won't think any less of you. Nor will I care about you any less than I do now. I could never look down on you, that's what love is."

He was quiet but his eyes remained on yours as he thought. Your eyes looked so soft, so inviting. He could spend eternity looking at them and never grow bored or run out of new specs of colour to find within them. But, after a moment, his eyes flickered down again.

"How can you be sure that you won't look down on me? That you will continue to look at me as you are right now?"

You sighed slightly and pressed your lips to his own before pulling away with a gentle smile, noticing the way his eyes had widened again, his cheeks blushing ever so faintly. "Because, as I have been saying, I love you and nothing is going to change that."

"But what if-"

"Hector." You broke him away from his uncertain thoughts and he looked at you once again.

He gulped slightly and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before allowing his eyes to open once again. "She tricked me into thinking she cared and betrayed me when I was at my most vulnerable. She... I've slept with her... More than once but recently, because of you, she hasn't been coming to me as often."

It felt like the entire world was shattering around you as an unbearable sorrow washed over you, but then the anger came crashing down in waves, growing more and more furious each second. You knew that she had hurt him, broken him, but you never imagined it would go this far. She had manipulated him, humiliated him and just to top it all off, violated him.

You didn't realise how hard you were clenching your fists until his hand hesitantly found it's way to yours. Your muscles began to untense, your jaw relaxing and hands unwinding, allowing him to gently interlace his gloved fingers with yours.

"I am going to save you, I promise," you reassured, more icy tears streaming down your cheeks.

He brought his hands up to your face and tenderly wiped them away with his thumbs. "You already have."

He was still hesitant around you, still adjusting to the idea that you truly cared for him and so, you were the one to step forward. Your arms were back around him once again, your head buried into his chest as you cried. It was silly that you were the one crying when he had been through so much but your heart actually ached for him. Hector was one of the few good people you had met in your life, truly good and pure, even if he had tried to aid Dracula before. He didn't deserve any of the things that had happened to him, from his parents' negligence to everything that had happened since he left Dracula's castle with Carmilla.

When you finally managed to pull yourself together, you stepped out of his warm embrace and smiled as you wiped the remnants of your tears from your face.

"I should leave you to your work, we don't want to find out what Carmilla will do if I distract you for too long."

You walked towards the door, still trying to steady your breaths. Before you left, you stopped and turned back to him. "I'll see you tonight for training."

Hector, who had already picked up his hammer again, nodded with a faint smile. "See you tonight."

As soon as you reached the corridor, you felt as though you were going to crumble. So many feelings and emotions were coursing through your body. The most prominent was the anger that had begun to rise the moment you stepped away from him.

You couldn't stop thinking about it and the more you thought about it the more you envisioned it. The way her hand would slowly drag across his skin. The taunting look she would have on her face as she proved to the forgemaster time and time again that he belonged only to her. The thing that bothered you the most, however, was the way you were sure he had turned his head away, the way he would have closed his eyes, praying that he was anywhere but there. Maybe he had even wished to be dead, if only so that he would never be subjected to her torment ever again. It broke your heart that he had been here without you for so long. You blamed yourself. You should have stayed by his side, you should have found him sooner. If only you had been here to stop it, to protect him, but you weren't.

As soon as you had closed the door and began to walk away, Hector found himself loosely dropping his hammer as he crouched down to the ground. Your conversation had changed everything. He was almost relieved when he thought you were manipulating him because it meant he could go back to how he was and feel nothing again, but everything you said made sense. He had no reason to doubt you or that you were lying to the vampires instead of him because he knew you would oppose of their plan just as much as you had Dracula's.

He ran his hands through his hair, tugging slightly in frustration. Then, his fingers hovered over his lips, over where yours had been, and he smiled. He felt guilty. Guilty because he was happy that you felt the same feelings for him as he did you but he knew it would only put you in danger. He knew how Lenore was, he knew she would kill you or worse if she found out you were planning on freeing him from her, let alone the fact that you actually cared for him. Lenore could deal with him having a friend, he knew that, but she was possessive of her little forgemaster. He was her pet, an accessory for her to wear, and the thought of someone getting in the way of that would infuriate her.

When he stood back up, picking up his hammer to continue his work, the first tear fell. It was the only tear he could spare, the only tear he had shed in such a long time and, if things were to go as he feared, it would not be his last. He was hopeful that your plan would succeed but he knew these vampires, he knew Lenore, and he knew that the chances of your survival were low. Yet, he decided to let himself be happy for a while, even if it was selfish of him. Even if he knew it wouldn't last for long.

By the time it came for the evenings training, Hector was already fishing up in the forge. You were a few minutes late and he knew it was because you were trying to give him some more time after taking up his time this morning, not that he minded the distraction. Nonetheless, he was grateful that you had thought about him and allowed him some extra time to catch up with his work. He wasn't particularly afraid of Carmilla, no, Lenore was the only one he feared, but he knew that her temper would only result in a beating had he not completed his workload for the day without good reason. Sure Lenore would be the one to rescue him from Carmilla's wrath but she would make sure to punish him in her own way and, in all honesty, he would prefer for Carmilla to beat him half to death.

When the door knocked, his mood brightened and sure enough, you walked in seconds later.

"Ready for today's lesson?" You grinned, trying to hide the feelings of anger and sorrow that had been stuck with you for most of the day.

"Let's go." He returned your smile, though his was softer.

He was starting to feel more comfortable around you after you explained your true plan and your feelings for him. He was beginning to feel as though he could tell you anything because, although he had feared it, your eyes still held that same glow they always did when you looked at him. Despite finding out everything, your thoughts and feelings about him hadn't changed and that meant everything to him, the man who no one cared for. No one cared for him, no one ever had, and yet here you were proving to him that he was worth something, at least to you.

"Actually, we can stay in here for this one. It's too cold outside anyway."

It was true that it was cold outside and you would rather stay inside but another reason for you wanting to stay put was because you were afraid of running into Lenore if you ventured through the castle or out onto the grounds. It was dark and the vampires were more than likely to have risen, which meant there was a possibility of running into Lenore and if that happened, well, you were not sure if you could stop yourself from attacking her on sight.

Before long, the two of you were sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. You were directly opposite each other with an empty candlestick on the ground between you.

"Pick it up," you stated and, although he looked confused, Hector reached out to pick the candlestick up.

"Without touching it," you added and his eyes glanced up at you in disbelief.

"Without touching it?" Hector repeated as he pulled his hands away from the candlestick.

You nodded and focused your attention on the object, lifting it in seconds. "Like this. See, easy."

You allowed the candlestick to float for a moment before allowing gravity to pull it back down again. Hector rubbed his hands together and took in a deep breath before focusing on the candlestick but, despite his efforts, nothing happened.

"It's the same as it was with the fire and ice. You just have to see the candlestick, imagine what it is like to reach out and grab it. Feel the steel against your fingers, feel the pull of gravity trying to oppose you and then, pull against it, lift it," you explained and watched as Hector tired again.

Again, nothing. The next time he tired, however, the candlestick shook ever so slightly but still did not lift. Hector huffed and rolled his head back to look at the ceiling, leaning back on his hands for support. Nonetheless, he was enjoying this. His time spent with you, these lessons, they gave him a sense of comfort, of normality. Just your presence alone seemed to expel the thoughts that usually occupied his head, thoughts he didn't want to be thinking, things he didn't want to be remembering. Just seeing you had such an effect that he almost felt normal, whole even, if such a thing was possible.

"Don't worry, levitation isn't easy the first time around. You managed to move it though and that is a really good start. Just try again. We have plenty of time." Your reassurance was enough for him to try again, though he did release another frustrated sigh as anyone would when trying magic as hard as this for the first time.

Creating fire and ice was much easier because it is easier to envision. Levitation has a difficulty about it because it requires a lot of mental strength and practice to accomplish. Most normal magicians would need months or years to master it but for a forgemaster, it is just a matter of figuring it out. Hector would be able to lift the candlestick by the end of the night, that you were certain of, and it would only take him a few more tries after that to master it completely as he had with the lessons of fire and ice from before. He had no issue with conjuring those elements anymore and, despite never leaning it before, it was easy for him to pick up thanks to his magical power as a forgemaster.

You found great enjoyment in watching Hector try to lift the candlestick. Your head tilted to the side slightly as you watched the crease between his brows deepen. His lips pursed together and his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the object before him. 

Hector was a man with a certain beauty about him which was something that only became more abundant the longer your eyes lingered on him. A strand of his silver hair fell into his eyes but he ignored it and continued to focus on lifting the candlestick, only it soon became clear that he wasn't lifting the candlestick at all as the stray strand of his wavy hair began to lift until it was horizontal with his face.

"Um, Hector..."

He snapped out of his focused trance and the hair fell back down to his face as he only just realised what he had been doing. His eyes widened and he looked at you with such confusion and innocence that you burst out laughing. You even applauded him as you giggled, amazed that he had managed to levitate something that was so different from the object he was trying to lift.

When you finally began to calm down, he chuckled softly, "I'm sorry, my hair seems to have distracted me."

And off you went again, into a complete fit of hysterics. The act itself wasn't all that funny but the way he was so focused only to levitate something completely different and then to look at you with that baffled face had you in stitches. It was so cute, he was so cute. Even Hector began to chuckle along with you, although his own laughter was tamer than yours for he was all the more aware of who could be listening.

"Okay, okay. I'm done, I think." You practically gasped for air after your laughing fit.

Although you were unaware of it, Hector, throughout your entire breakdown, watched you with a sadness that was almost masked by his own joy. He wanted nothing more than to see you laugh and smile all day every day but he knew this could only last so long. No matter how powerful of a magician you were, he knew that Lenore could have you killed without you putting up so much as a fight. He knew that because he knew you would do anything to save him, even if it meant you would give up your own life to do so. He didn't want you to value his life more than your own, he didn't understand why you did but he could see it in your eyes, that look you had every time you thought of something harming him. It was a look he had only seen a few times since your arrival, most notably during your conversation this morning, but he knew what it meant all the same.

A part of him wished you were just manipulating him, that you were just better at it than Lenore and he was a fool to believe you as he did her. He knew that the chances of it were low because it made no logical sense for you to be helping them when your interests were so different from theirs. Despite this, he was praying you would betray him because he would rather you be another to let him down than for you to be taken away from him just like everything else. He could live knowing you were lying to him, knowing you didn't really care, but he couldn't bear it if she was to take you from him because, if you really did love him, he couldn't live on knowing you died for him. He just couldn't.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

[thecreedsgambit]

02: Anticipation | Ethan Ramsey x MC (Diana) | song inspiration: To Die For by Sam Smith

Author’s Note: Literally finished this at 4 AM with Sam Smith’s song on constant repeat in my ears. I had fun with this one though, ngl. 

Summary: After seeing Dr. Diana James arrive in the emergency room, Ethan struggles with his emotions as he waits for her to return to him again. 

01: Triage | Part One 

Tags: @mvalentine @openheart12 @colossalpainintheass @noboundariesplease

Disclaimer: Characters and flashback scenes belong to Pixelberry.

Ethan sat in the waiting room, then he paced the waiting room, then he left the waiting room, then he returned to the waiting room once again. The waiting drove him insane, and he couldn’t fathom how so many families were able to do this. He felt so unlike himself. He knew he should be busy with work, or checking on patients, or doing literally anything other than sitting in a damn waiting room.

But he knew he couldn’t - not in the current state he was in. Besides, Naveen wouldn’t allow it.

As he took a seat in his chair, yet again, his eyes roamed over to a little boy sitting by his mother. The mother was clearly agitated, wringing her hands together and checking the hallway every few moments, most likely waiting for any doctor to come and tell her that her loved one would be alright. The little boy, however, was just the opposite. His small hand was wrapped around a toy plane, waving it aimlessly through the air with a carelessness that a part of Ethan wished he himself had.

“Do you want kids?”

Diana’s voice boomed through the speaker, and Ethan was slightly shocked by her question. He wasn’t expecting her to get so personal - to be so forward - when he asked for her to help him test the new fMRI machine. He was trying his best to remain as still and as calm as he could - emotionless, almost. He didn’t want to give too much away.

“Dr. Ramsey?”

“I heard you,” he responded. “I’m thinking.”

But he knew the answer. He had thought about kids a few times actually, but the idea seemed odd now. He had always blamed it on work or being too busy. He supposed the truth was that he never really considered that life could happen to him. He never really thought someone would walk into his life that he could love, and love so deeply, enough to want that kind of life. Something like that just never made sense to him.

The little boy’s sudden helicopter noises jarred Ethan out of his memory, and another painful jolt of guilt and shame washed over him. Why couldn’t he have just been honest with her? Why didn’t he open himself up more? Why couldn’t he have opened up sooner?

He quickly stood and walked towards a hallway. A nurse moved to intercept him, but he waved her off. “Relax,” he grumbled. “I’m just going to the vending machine. And tell Naveen I don’t need a babysitter.”

When he got to the vending machine, though, he just stood there. Feet planted on the ground, arms folded, and eyes staring straight forward at a small pouch of hot chocolate.

"That got her to take her pills,” he sputtered. “I can’t believe it.”

“Of course it did.”

Ethan looked at her suspiciously. “So, are you going to tell me how you worked this one out?”

A mischievous smirk played on the corner of Diana’s lips and a teasing glint shimmered in her eyes. “A girl’s got to have some secrets, Dr. Ramsey.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly annoyed by her response. “You’re seriously not going to tell me?”

“I’m going for the air of mystery.” He couldn’t help but notice the way her tongue darted out and licked the bottom of her lip as she paused, adding an innocent smile. “Is it working?”

Despite himself, a small smile appeared on his face. “... mildly.”

She grinned before turning back to the machine and punching in the numbers for the chocolate bar in the top corner. Retrieving it, she tossed it toward him.

“And who is this for?”

“You.” Her response made him look her in the eye. Mixed feelings swirled within him as he tried, and so desperately failed, to study her. All she did was smile in response; the same smile that made his heart beat uncomfortably in his chest. “It’s okay to treat yourself sometimes, Dr. Ramsey.”

The memory faded as his eyes lazily glided towards a chocolate bar that rested in the top corner of the machine. He shook his head and walked further down the hallway, stopping to lean against a bin of medical supplies. His eyes flickered to a TV that was playing a baseball game in a patient’s room.

The pharmacy executives walked away, and Diana turned toward him with an annoyingly attractive smirk toying on her lips. “’One of our most promising young doctors,’ huh?”

“Stop.”

She gave him an innocent smile as she melodramatically narrated his own words. “’The future of medicine.’”

“Well, I couldn’t introduce you as a colossal pain in my ass, now could I?”

A wide smile spread across her features, provoking a grin of his own.

Pins and needles pricked the backs of his eyes once again, and he looked away quickly. Being reminded of the baseball game felt like a painful punch to the gut. He remembered how proud he had felt of her that day. She handled the executives with so much ease and confidence that it nearly took him by surprise. He didn’t even know why he had invited her in the first place.

Of course he did. He always knew.

He decided to go upstairs to his old office. It was still vacant; maybe he wouldn’t be bothered there - by people or by painful memories.

He was wrong, of course. The moment he stepped through the threshold of his old office, an even more painful memory surfaced.

“What are you -?”

Diana strode into his office, no knock, just a fiery look of accusation burning in her eyes. “Are you punishing me? Do you enjoy it, or something?”

Ethan’s face twisted in anger, and he felt his skin crawl with an unbelievable amount of annoyance. “You need to separate your personal feelings from your professional feelings, Dr. James.”

His anger was almost - not fully, but almost - misplaced because he knew that he, himself, should have been listening to his words, too.

Diana rose to her full height, which was still much shorter than Ethan. “You told me you gave me that patient for a reason.”

“Of course I did!” He was raising his voice now. That usually made people back down; not Diana. “I meant to challenge you!”

“Challenge me to do what?”

She raised her voice too, and his shoulders tensed with annoyance, with anger, and with ... something else he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“To be the best doctor you can be!” He shouted. Both of their chests rose and fell with pint up emotions. He chose to lower his voice, but the anger dripping from his tone still sliced through the tense air between them. “I selected you because I saw something special in your application.”

Her entire demeanor changed as it dawned on her. “Wait - you selected me?”

“Yes.” He towered over her; his eyes narrowed, and his jaw set tight. “It’s very rare that I’m wrong, Rookie. But I’m willing to admit when I am.”

The way she had looked at him before she left his office was almost enough to make him call after her. But he didn’t; he couldn’t. He was too blind at the time, too wrapped up in pushing her away to prevent himself from pulling her closer. Now, just the idea of him possibly hurting her with his words made his head swim with unfamiliar pain.

“What are you doing to me?”

Diana had overcome his willpower with just one look, and her eyes searched his own in such a way that made his heart beat erratically. With the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, she responded, “Hopefully something good.”

He felt dizzy - inexplicable confusion. He’d never felt like this before, and he certainly couldn’t explain it. If he tried to leave his office, he feared he would stumble or try his hardest to go in that damn operating room himself. He needed them to save her.

“I hated her ... but he still loved her.” Ethan looked at Diana with so much vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to hide his emotions from her; not this time. “Why didn’t he ever resent her the way I did?”

Diana’s eyes were so soft, so warm. He felt like she single-handedly kept him tethered to the ground, and he never, ever wanted to let go. “It’s a different type of pain, Ethan. You were just a child; your world view was still forming. You couldn’t possibly have understood then.”

Perhaps she was right, but he understood now. He needed them to save her ... because he loved her.

“Ethan,” a familiar voice sounded behind him.

He turned to see his dad standing in the doorway. His eyebrows furrowed together, but he couldn’t ignore how good it felt to see such a familiar face.

“Dad?” When his voice came out, it surprised him with how little it sounded. He sounded like a small child. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was on my way back to Providence, but -,” he paused. Alan took one look at his son, and his heart nearly broke with both compassion and understanding. “I was already told what happened. I’m so sorry, son.”

All Ethan could do was nod. His dad stepped closer and wrapped his son in a careful hug. Ethan was hesitant for a long moment. It felt odd - uncomfortable, even - but he accepted it, eventually. Only because he could just imagine the look Diana would be giving him right now, encouraging him to play nice with his dad.

Ethan only let the hug last for a few seconds before he pulled away and roughly swiped at his eyes to remove any stray tears. Before either of them could speak, Dr. Varma appeared in the doorway with uncharacteristically red eyes.

“Dr. Ramsey ... Diana’s out of surgery.”

~

When Ethan got the news, he hadn’t known what exactly it was that he expected. Maybe her brown eyes gazing up at him, eyelids blinking lazily, and a hoarse voice asking what had happened. Perhaps even some irrational part of him had hoped to see her sitting up, reassuring nurses and friends alike not to fuss over her. Something - anything - to indicate that she was going to be okay.

But that isn’t what happened, and Ethan had mentally cursed himself for allowing even a sliver of hope to twist his chest as he rushed to her room with his dad on his heels.

Now, even two hours later, she still hadn’t woken up. Ethan longed to see her open her eyes, to see her look at him the way only she could. A part of him couldn’t help but to allow just an ounce of hope to trickle into his mind as he imagined Diana’s eyes fluttering open and immediately drifting toward him. What would he say? Would he even be able to let her go another minute without telling her that he loved her?

Every twitch of her finger or her eyes sent Ethan’s heart into a rapid frenzy with an overwhelming arousal of hope he’d thought was dormant; it nearly left him dizzy. Yet, she remained asleep.

After checking on his patients once again, Ethan returned to her room - to the chair he had pulled as close to her bed as possible. His glasses rested on the edge of his nose, hands gripping patient files that he didn’t even look at. All he could do was watch her. Nurses and doctors passed by her room, throwing curious glances in his direction, but he didn’t care. His eyes remained trained on the one object of his affection.

“Ethan.”

His eyes dragged up to see his dad, who stood in the doorway and attempted a sad smile. Ethan fished his keys out of his pocket, working his house key off of the ring. “You can stay at my place again tonight, dad.”

Alan watched his son struggle to get the key; frustration clear on Ethan’s face. Alan let out a quiet sigh, stepping into the room and walking to the foot of Diana’s bed. “Ethan, I know you want to stay here, but ... maybe you should get some sleep? They have plenty of other fine doctors here who will watch Dr. James.”

Finally tugging the key off of the ring, Ethan paused for a moment before raising the key in the air, wordlessly meeting his dad’s gaze. They both knew he wouldn’t leave.

Alan sighed once more, walking closer and patting his son on the shoulder. “It’s okay, son. I’m driving back tonight.” Ethan dropped his hand, and another long moment passed between the two of them. “Dr. James will be alright, just - just take care of yourself, Ethan.”

Ethan met his dad’s gaze once again before offering him a short nod. “Drive safe, dad.”

Alan spared him one last look, then glanced worriedly down at Diana’s sleeping form, before leaving the room. Ethan watched him go, even listened to his receding footsteps for as long as he could. After a beat, his eyes - a blue storm of pain, longing, and hope - returned to Diana.

Just as he’d done many times before, he placed the files on his lap and leaned forward. He gently took her wrist, placing his fingers above her pulse. With eyes trained on his watch, he counted each passing second before glancing up at her monitors.

Vitals were fine; patient was stable. He did this nearly every thirty minutes because it was the one thing that eased his conscious.

When he placed her wrist back at her side and returned to gripping the files in his hands, Dr. Trinh, Dr. Varma, and Dr. Greene entered the room

“Oh - Dr. Ramsey,” Dr. Trinh said, slightly startled. She looked as if she wanted to add, “You’re still here ...”

He wanted to offer to leave - to tell them they could have a moment with their friend - but he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He had left her before, and he never intended to do so again. The thought of her being alone when this accident happened nearly made his hands curl into fists and his heart beat with both anger and guilt. He wanted to make sure he was the first person she saw; he wanted to make sure she knew she would never be alone again.

Much to his relief, Dr. Varma offered him an out as she held up a card and a teddy bear that looked as if both had come from the hospital’s gift shop. “We just wanted to bring these to her before our shifts ended for the day.”

She walked over to Diana’s bedside, placing the teddy bear on the side table and positioning the card delicately in the bear’s grasp. The card fell open slightly, facing Diana, and Ethan caught sight of the inside of it.

His eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes slightly. “That signature in that card - is that the governor’s signature?”

Dr. Varma’s mouth twisted in a smile as she looked at the card, as if she were smiling at some fond memory. “It’s sort of a running joke between us.”

Dr. Greene found his way to the foot of Diana’s bed, sad eyes looking at her seemingly peaceful face. “Has she woken up yet?”

He hadn’t looked at Ethan, but Ethan knew he was talking to him. He also knew Dr. Greene already knew the answer. He shook his head anyway. “No - nothing, yet.”

After having lingered in the doorway, Dr. Trinh finally walked into the room and went directly up to Diana’s bedside. A stray tear left her eye, and Ethan looked away for a moment. He felt like he was intruding on something - a moment, rather. But he still refused to leave; he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

A moment later, Dr. Trinh sniffed, and they all turned to leave. “Have a good night, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Doctors,” he said, nodding his head at their retreating figures.

Once they had cleared the doorway, Ethan’s eyes landed on an elderly couple in the hallway. One was a patient; a short, frail woman with graying hair and a hospital gown hanging loosely on her thin body. Her hands were placed gently on an elderly man’s arm. The two walked slowly down the hallway as he pulled her IV stand behind them. The smiles on their faces as they gazed up at each other made it seem as if they were walking around Boston Common, not the inside of Edenbrook.

With furrowed eyebrows, Ethan returned his attention to Diana. For a moment, he could see it - the life he never could image for himself. A house somewhere on a lake just outside of Boston, one they had built, with Jenner pouncing around the lawn after a baseball his son had failed to catch in his gloved hand.

His pager sounded, and he shook the image from his head almost aggressively. Standing to his feet, he paused and dropped an affectionate hand down to meet Diana’s cheek. He brushed his fingers against her soft skin with a touch as light as a feather. He stood there - just like that - for a second longer before withdrawing his touch and leaving the room as fast as he could so as to be able to return as fast as possible.

~

He tried not to get angry that his patient took longer to deal with than usual. Why was it always so hard to get Mr. Mitchell to take his medication?

Regardless, his feet carried him all the way to Diana’s room. As he went, he flipped through charts and results that had been waiting for him at the nurses’ station. A slight pain throbbed just behind his eyes; he knew he was tired, but he was just stubborn enough to push through it.

At the end of the hallway, Diana’s room sat, and, as he approached and let his eyes painfully draw up from the charts, there she sat, too.

His heart stopped and his blood ran cold as he watched her. She was wiggling her toes and stretching her fingers while clearly still trying to blink herself awake. Ethan couldn’t bring himself to announce his presence, so he continued to watch her in disbelief. 

He knew he should’ve rushed forward, scolding her not to put too much strain on herself. He should’ve stepped forward and checked her vitals to make sure she was fine, to ensure there were no signs of any surgical complications.

He just couldn’t. He couldn’t move.

She attempted to look at her monitors, but her pillow was blocking her view. She brought her hand up to move it out of the way, and, as she did, she caught sight of Ethan.

With a sheepish smile that made Ethan’s heart skip a beat, she raised her arm and waved it in the air, letting all the wires connected to her bounce aimlessly, before dropping her arm back to her side. “I was just doing a post-surgery checkup.”

He wanted to scoff; he wanted to say, “of course you were.” But his speech failed him. All he could do was stare at the woman in front of him, knowing that, deep down, he only had one thing to say.

[ephemerlskies]

arcadia | part two (final)

⇢ pairing: taehyung x reader

⇢ genre: angst, the teeniest bit of fluff, exes to lovers, more angst

⇢ word count: 3.6k

⇢ warnings: lots n lots of arguing; swearing; one (1) racist white guy who says racist white guy things;

⇢ summary:  fate. destiny. karma. whatever you rationalized in your mind, it brought you here. face to face with your ex-lover, longing for something you'd been missing for the several months since you two parted ways. seeing him once again stirred up questions mutually wondered by the both of you. why and how did it happen? why did it end so suddenly? is this really the end?

╰ episode index: 01 | 02

“Can I kiss you?”

It all came rushing back and it wasn’t calm in the slightest. It swept you away like a tsunami and as the waters fled back to the sea all that remained were the ruins of the past. Everything that was built still there, but shattered into pieces. Broken enough to be unrecognizable and how unsettling it was to gaze upon that. So now you were faced with this strange disposition towards what the next step would be. You could run away, find somewhere else to call home, and it would be easy. Or you could stay, and spend every waking hour re-puzzling and reconstructing all that was once standing so tall which would be difficult but the most rewarding. And if it weren’t for that damn tsunami, you wouldn’t have to face this decision at all.

“Taehyung…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, but you were internally pleading he would get the hint.

“But you love me back?” He spoke with such longing and it was absolutely heartbreaking. He ran his fingers along your cheek with hope it would sway you to say yes, for once maybe you’d give him the upper hand. 

“Stop,” Get a grip, you know what you’re doing, “Tae I’m serious, no.” It took more strength than you expected to back away from him.

The anger rose again, “No, you can’t.” He stepped back when you stepped back, but his stride was driven by frustration and yours was driven by fear. “You’re so mean, you always do this! You know how you feel, you know how you make me feel and you’re hurting me all over again. I don’t believe it was because I was too young because… fuck that! I loved you so much. I loved you so much that I wanted to give up everything for you and I don’t care how that sounds, I just loved you. I still love you.”

“God, you’re acting like a child!” Your voice was loud, you wanted him to hear you, finally. And you weren’t going to let fear be the reason to hold back anymore.

“Yeah, right.” He scoffed, “And you’re acting like you don’t have anything to say.”

“You know what, fine! Yes, I ran away. I was scared and I didn’t know how to handle this. Us. I- I was so afraid of losing you. I was afraid and I told myself it was because I was holding you back but it wasn’t all that.” You caught your breath, as you found this release to be an accumulation of all your emotions from the six month since everything ended.

You needed to pause, and from the stunned and disbelieving look painted upon Taehyung’s face, he needed to wrap his mind around this. Or brace himself for what is about to come.

-

It was midnight. Already?

You were never one to be insecure or jealous and the fact that you have been mulling over how many girls he probably talked to tonight made you more frustrated with yourself than him. You knew it was wrong. These are just small anxieties that will pass. As much as you really wished you could convince yourself that was true, saying it over and over again didn’t seem to stop or even slow down these worries. Even mindlessly watching the t.v. was not aiding in the slightest as it usually did.

Eventually, you had to call. Just once.

No.

Yes.

No, don’t be that girlfriend.

What if he needs me?

And what if he doesn’t…

“God, get a grip.” You immediately purged your mind of that thought, and of course you did as your specialty was avoiding anything that caused the slightest bit of inner turmoil.

So, you settled on your sister. You called, and she picked up, and you did everything in your power to prolong that conversation while at the same time doing everything in your power to not bring up Taehyung.

“So how’s Taehyung?” She finally asked. The dreaded question that functioned as another light conversation starter, but you knew it was going to open a flood of emotions. The only response she received was a long, heavy sigh.

You cried, then cried harder.

“Fuck, did something happen? Y/n please, talk to me.”

With her soft words, you knew you could open to her over anything that seemed over dramatic or silly or insignificant. “Um,” you took a deep breath and did the most to stabilize your voice, “okay so I never wanted to be the girl that was jealous. I love Tae and I know he loves me but-“

You paused, afraid of actually speaking these fears into existence. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you were convinced you could see your heart beating outside of your chest.

“I just, I feel like I’m losing him.”

Her silence signified you to elaborate on this wild apprehension.

“I mean, he’s young. Not like much younger than me, but there’s still that difference. I’m starting to notice it more and more, you know?” You paused again, now grabbing a tissue to blow your nose, “And I know I probably sound crazy and stupid but I’ve never felt like this for someone. I feel like I depend on him so much. He makes me so happy it’s fucking terrifying!”

“You’re scared of loving him too much” Your sister was beyond puzzled by that, though she did understand that love could be treacherous. Though, she never questioned your relationship with Taehyung and that was true, “Hun, you guys are like ‘that’ couple.”

“What does that even mean,” you laugh at the absurdity of her comment.

“I don’t know, I just can’t imagine Taehyung to even see another girl as a girl. Well I mean he sees girls but he just… He’s like an old man.”

“I get you’re trying to help but you’re just confusing me even more.” Your eyes began to dry and your hands steadied out. Your sister never really had a way with words, however you could always understand exactly what she was trying to say. So, you played dumb because you needed her to reaffirm it one more time.

“Well you know what I mean, okay! I’ve never met a man who was so oblivious to women who throw themselves at him.” She exclaimed, now a bit more aggressively. You could tell she was desperately trying to convince you of his loyalty.

“I don’t doubt that he’d never cheat. I know he wouldn’t, it’s not about that.” You responded, “I feel like I’m not good enough. I feel like every time he goes out he discovers a new part of himself and he grows, and I want him to grow! But, the more and more that he changes, I feel like he’ll start to drift away from me. He’ll grow, but he’ll grow apart from me. And I love him. And at some point I will continue to love him and he will continue to grow apart from me. What if some day I won’t be enough to satisfy him? I know that’s how things work!” You anxiety grew angrier, “It’s happened before.”

“So, that’s where this is coming from.” Your sister sighed, recalling the way Father hurt both of you and your mother. “Y/n, two things: one, our father was an idiot. He was stupid, and obviously Taehyung isn’t stupid and he’s not our father. And two, just because it happened once, doesn’t mean it will happen with every man.”

At this comment, you scoffed. It is a bit unbelievable to hear that not all men are manipulative and neglectful having gone through abandonment from your own father. Ever since then, you’ve done your best to withdraw from any possibility of disappointment though that meant you missed out on quite a lot.  

“I know, I know how that sounds, but I think you should wait, or communicate, but just don’t overreact about this. I truly believe - no - I know he’s head over heels for you and that is not going to change. Just trust that he wouldn’t hurt you.” She reasoned, and when she said it, it sounded right. It sounded like something that made sense but when you look at him, all that rationality begins to fade.

“And-“ she paused, accounting for the years of learning your behavior when discussing your father she proceeded with caution, “you can’t compare everyone to our father. He’s not worth it.”

You were about to protest; you wanted so badly to prove that she was wrong and that he didn’t still take up an unhealthy amount of space in your thoughts. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to because you knew she was right.

“I’m going to bed, but thank you. Really, thank you for listening.” You tried your best to sound settled, and you wanted to believe that all the good and reassurance she spoke tonight was the truth. “I love you.”

“Love you too, hun. Goodnight”

With that, you decided it would be best to do the reasonable thing for once and sleep this off. You checked your phone one last time.

2:15 a.m.

The door opened, and you felt his warm body lie next to yours.

And you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he would be next to you.

-

“Tae. I’m really not trying to put the ‘I’m older card’.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, “but you’re about to.” He knew you all too well. 

“I’ve experienced something like this!” Your throat tightened, but you pushed through. “It just seemed so good. And it was good! You were so good and you have your life that was ready to be lived. I was afraid one day you wouldn’t want me to be apart of that! And I know, okay, I know I was afraid and I was a coward for not believing in us but, shit! I was terrified, Tae! I depended on you so much to the point where if I didn’t hear from you I’d go insane. And when I tried to call I felt like I was holding you back from living your life! And I had no right to do that and I was..” You chocked out a sob but continued, “I was miserable, I hated feeling like that - again.”

Taehyung was left without words. He kept attempting to construct a response but his mind was blank. All this was unknown to him until now and he couldn’t for the life of him convey how badly he wished you told him this from the beginning.

“It wasn’t healthy, Tae. I wasn’t healthy.” You curled your hair behind your ear as your eyes shifted from the floor to the gazebo post, and back to the floor. “Part of me really hates this. Admitting this, it’s hard.”

“Y/n…” He looked absolutely dumbfounded. “I’m not your father.” He was also staring at the floor.

“No, I know that. I know.”

“So then why couldn’t you just tell me?” His attention returned back to you. 

“What would that accomplish?” You laughed in exasperation, crossing your arms and turning around the look back at the lake. You continued, but softer, “All that would do is make you feel guilty which would make me feel guilty and there would just be a build up of resentment which would just lead to us breaking up.”

“You know,” he also spoke gently but with conviction, “just because you were ready to give up, doesn’t mean I was.”

You stared blankly at him, a mix of guilt and regret beginning to muster in your heart. Were you the tsunami?

-

"Wrong."

"What?" You questioned sternly with unwavering eyes.

Taehyung's head tilted down, a smug grin resting comfortably on his face. He knew what this did to you and he relished in your frustration.

"You're wrong. You sound dumb too." He stated with a casual shrug.

Was he really choosing now out of all times to let his asshole tendencies to shine through?

"You- you’re an ass, Tae." Your face felt hot, and you knew your cheeks were involuntarily glowing red. As you began to turn away from the boy and flip your hair dramatically to spite him, he gripped your shoulders firmly.

"Stop saying that." He paused, his grin soon morphing into a smile of warmth, "Stop self-deprecating like that when it's so fucking far from the truth."

The rain padded down on the roof of the gazebo, filling each momentary silence with a bit of serenity. The only thing anchoring you to reality was the sound of the raindrops.

"What are you-"

"God, you're so frustrating.” Taehyung held on tighter, and he wanted you to listen, “You're so talented and passionate in ways that you can't see but it's so blinding to me. Why can’t you see how smart you are?" His tone was aggressive as if he was trying to convince you of this. As if he’d been trying to convince you of this for a long time, "Look at yourself. You are doing exactly what I could never do. You're chasing your dream and even though you fail. Like, you fail. A lot."

"Okay, fuck I get it I suck." You furrow your eyebrows and attempt to pull away from his grasp. 

"No. You fail because of that mindset that you 'suck'. It's your lack of confidence that holds you back. You focus on all your failures and forget about all the amazing things you've done." He didn't let go, he promised himself a long time ago he would never let go.

"Okay fine. I'm scared." You felt your tears welling up, and that same lump in your throat swell when you fought back tears. "What if I'm not good enough?" You spoke quietly, the slightest quiver traced in your words.

"You put yourself through grad school working two shitty jobs while at the same time being a kick ass intern at Park's law firm. You're in school now and on the path to getting your master's degree in law school." He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"I mean yeah but..." You started, feeling your heart flutter. When did his eyes start glowing so brightly?

"No 'buts'. You're a badass. You intimidate me and that's why I'm so tough with you. God, can't you see how amazing you are? You inspire me every day to get my lazy ass out of bed and go to class. Your persistence, your energy literally infects me with inspiration to be like you. If I could be half the perso-" You had to do it. You had to release everything you felt piling up in your heart. You had to kiss him.

You didn't expect to be here, under an old, filthy gazebo, kissing the man who just last week told you he thought you were a pretentious square. And yet, here you were. Doing exactly that.

For a moment, everything was good. You've finally acted upon countless sleepless nights of pining over him. The times you've cried and Taehyung, despite being a bit crude, listened to you whine for hours. You pulled away, dreading that expected 'I don't feel that way about you' speel. But as you were, he pulled you back in, closer.

His arms slipped around your waist, and he held you against him. It was warm, even in the winter. And it was safe, even with the enigmatic and terrifying future that awaited you.

"I've waited so long for you to do that." Taehyung whispered against your lips.

You immediately responded to this with a sharp elbow in his side, "You know the guy is the one who's supposed to make the first move, idiot!"

"And yet, here you are. Kissing me. You kissed me. Besides, you were never one to abide by tradition." He teased and as you were beginning to protest he pressed his lips against yours once again. The words you were about to say faded away. Fading into something of a feeling rather than a thought. A feeling of pure love.

-

“I thought you-“

“You were wrong, y/n. Yeah, I went out a lot but that has nothing to do with why I changed. I changed because of so many reasons, you being one of them! Probably the biggest reason, if I’m being honest.” His arms were still just as expressive as his voice. With every word he said, he spoke with his entire body and you aren’t sure why but you really love that about him.

“Well-“

“No, y/n, you don’t understand how much you meant to me,” he interrupted, becoming more eager to speak, “maybe I didn’t show it well enough or the ways I tried to didn’t translate but god, I loved you so much.” He wiped the tears from his eyes, and proceeded with strength. You turned back around, and every time he says he loves you, you always find yourself holding on tighter.

“I was such a piece of shit when I was a kid. I was abrasive and stubborn and cold. But when I met you, I don’t know, you were so kind and thoughtful and loud. Admittedly I thought you were annoying at first,” he paused and smiled, recollecting all the ridiculous things you would say to him. He didn’t catch when it happened, but one day he found himself waiting for you to tell him any and every ridiculous thing you wanted because he grew to love it, “but that’s because I was so closed off to the idea of allowing someone to care for me. But once I did, and once you showed me that I could also be that person for someone else, I did everything I could to be good. I wanted to be good for you and for everyone. But you made me want to.”

Now, though your eyes remained full of tears, you were fighting back a smile. And you began to replay every moment you shared with this man. “I didn’t know that.” Was all you could mutter.

“Yeah well, maybe we just sucked at talking back then.” He laughed, “But that’s the thing, sweetheart, things do change. But that doesn’t mean they will change in a way that will make two people incompatible. You assumed it wouldn’t work out even though I tried to become someone that you could count on. I assumed I could just go on without addressing anything that troubled me or you because I didn’t know how to approach that. We both fucked up because we couldn’t realize that let alone admit to either of these things.”

“That we can agree on.” You commented with dismay. It stung to look back at the way you handled everything. 

“But for god’s sake, we loved each other! And I know that if we stuck it out for just a little bit longer things would have worked out, but instead you-“ He paused, evaluating how to phrase his thoughts, “you just left. And that broke me.”

“I guess... it was a presumptuous of me to give up.” You thought to yourself what a pathetic piece of sentiment that was to a man who you love telling you how you ripped his heart form his chest. Say something else, anything, “I’m sorry.” Again, pathetic. “But you’re right. We’ve changed. And I wonder, quite a lot, if those changes would have strengthened us.” You offered a light smile, “Maybe I do regret it.”

“Maybe?” Taehyung teased.

“Fine, definitely. I definitely regret it.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” He stepped closer, and you allowed him to. Your eyes invited him to be close with you once again, and be gladly accepted that offer.

“Of course, art class. It was my pre-req and it was your major. And it just so happens that we were in the same class.” You looked at his eyes, which were staring right back at you, and you couldn’t deny how warm it made your cheeks feel.

“Yes, that’s the first time you met me, but that’s not the first time I met you.” Once again, you two were centimeters apart and aching to be in one another’s arms.

-

Taehyung heard a loud bang, and an angry voice soon followed.

“What the fuck?!”

He turned his head to discover that voice was coming from you. “How obnoxious.” He mumbled to himself as he turned back to his sketches. Being that it was the library and the one universally known rule was to be quiet, he found your loud exclamation rude. Of course, the second he gains some mobility in inspiration for his new art project he is interrupted by some loudmouth stranger.

“What’s your problem?” You question, eyebrows furrowed in attempt to make yourself look much tougher than you actually were. Taehyung’s attention was yet again stolen from his artwork by your loud voice.

“What? She was the one that was in my way, who cares. She should go back to her own country anyway.” The random man spat these hateful towards you and a Latina freshman trying to mask her puffy eyes. She was trying to be strong, but you could tell she was afraid.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You narrowed your eyes in complete disgust, and now clenched your hand in a fit of rage. You felt the heat rise to your face and every limb of your body was shaking in anger.

“I said that Mexican girl needs to get out of my country.” He spoke with such contempt it made your blood boil.

You, with your incessant need to put people in their place when needed, and it was definitely needed now, decided the only way to do so was with a swift knee to his crotch. You grasped both his shoulders, thanking god he wasn’t too tall, and kneed up as hard as humanly possible. In hindsight, there might have been a more sophisticated way in which to deal with racists like that man, but in all fairness, that was nothing but deserved. Not to mention you didn’t regret it in the slightest.

“Oh fuck, you BITCH!” He screamed as he fell to the floor, clutching himself and nearing tears. This extremely unflattering position he was in now made up for the loss of focus for Taehyung.

“Oh shit, we should get out of here.” You tried your best to hold back from laughing at this moron who was now groveling on the floor, but your efforts failed as laughter kept spilling from you and the other girl’s mouths. You grabbed the freshmen’s hand and ran a good distance from the vicinity of the library.

Taehyung eyebrows were raised and he as well was holding his laugh in the back of his throat. As much as he wanted to tell you to shut up at first, there was something about you that struck him. The way you carried yourself and your passion to be kind drew him in.  Everything about you demanded his attention and he couldn’t quite tell whether it was because you were so annoying or enchanting. Nevertheless, his eyes didn’t leave you until you vanished from his vision. And he wondered if he’d ever see you again.

-

You laughed out of pure embarrassment, “Oh wow, okay that was your first encounter with me?”

“Hey at least I wasn’t the guy that got kicked in the nuts by you.” He joined you in laughter. “Plus, it was pretty hot.”

“Yeah well he deserved it.” 

And there you were, laughing, reminiscing in old memories as if nothing had changed. Even after everything, after things really did change, you and Taehyung cannot help but share these moments of pure enjoyment. You and him, existing together and it feels like nothing in the world could change that.

You both realized this, and stood silently. Your eyes were locked onto each other’s and were both waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, and you waited. He began to look as uneasy as you felt. Was he going to leave now? Is that it? Is this closure? Is this how it finally ends? Can you accept that this was how it was supposed to turn out?

And with that last question ringing in your head, you knew. You were utterly and entirely unsatisfied with the way your story ended, so you chose to start it again. This time, you were not afraid, and you didn’t want to run away. With this sudden discharge of courage, you stepped towards him until there was no space left between you and Taehyung.

You leaned in close to his face and he was breathing just as heavily as you were. You felt both your hearts synchronized like everything was meant to feel that way.

“Can I kiss you?”

He flashed that same old boxy smile, and nodded eagerly.

And you kissed.

And you knew now, things have changed for the better.

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #33)

(cw: discussion of addiction) ----------

01/21/88  3:30 PM

Hey.

So… therapy.

Therapy, therapy, therapy.

If you were here, you’d no doubt want to hear how it went. Or how it didn’t go. How much I botched it, or what garbage mumbo jumbo it was. I wouldn’t blame you. Me, going to counselling? Group counselling? No way.

But I would also tell you to hold your horses, because before therapy came detox. Oh, yes. Me and my good friend, withdrawals. Not fun to hear about, I know. Less fun to experience. 

I won’t get into the nitty gritty of how sick I was. I’ve described it enough times by now. Let’s just say that it was twice as bad as the worst withdrawals I had ever had before. It had all the usual intense illness, but peppered with little blackouts. I also practically went insane over the need for GC. But, being confined to my game, there was no way to get any. Fix-it endured a whole lot of my screaming and breakdowns… again. At some point he took away my brush for my own good, and as outraged as I was, I think that mostly snapped me out of it from then on out. I could have my brush as long as I stayed calm. I was being treated like a freakin’ child, but I had to just roll with it. I was too weak to fight him, and I couldn’t be without buffs and without my brush.

As I started to come to my senses, I began to remember and understand the memory that I saw in my trip more and more. But what was strange to me was that I could hardly manage to feel anything over it. I knew for sure that those memories were packed full of emotions that could have wrecked me. But at the time, I felt numb to them. As if they just weren’t a priority compared to all else I’d been dealing with. The whole concept of counselling was taking up a whole lot of space in my brain, and I guess I could only feel so much at once. I suppose I ought to have felt thankful for that, but honestly, I felt kind of guilty.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe I felt like you deserved to have someone hurting over you, even though I’d already offered up so much pain. And even though I knew I still had more to give.

Still, slowly but surely, I recovered. It took the full two weeks for me to fully detox. Even then, I wasn’t at 100%. I was, maybe, 85%. I wasn’t shivering and throwing up anymore, but I still felt like a damp, moldy rag. 

It was around that point that I finally told Fix-it that I would try counselling.

I think he tried his best to play it cool so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed out of my decision by his enthusiasm, but I could tell he was overjoyed. Not disappointing him for once felt… different.

He went to tell Surge as promised, and he came back with a little pamphlet about the program for me to look over leading up to the first session. Just looking at the thing nearly turned me off from the idea, and actually opening it up and reading it was… so much worse.

The program seemed to be built upon twelve ‘steps’ (hurdles, more like): Honesty, Hope, Surrender, Courage, Integrity, Willingness, Humility, Love, Responsibility, Discipline, Awareness, and Service.

Yeah. That’s a lot of gross words.

As if that wasn’t enough on its own, so many descriptions for these supposed steps were so explicitly Devout, like my faith in the Devs would be what pulled me through this whole thing. Reading it, I almost wondered if I was being tricked into some kind of cult, or enlisted in some kind of military conditioning. Everything about it screamed that I would not fit in. At all. It wouldn’t work, I’d just humiliate myself, and I’d be locked up for two years anyway.

I wanted to quit. Really badly.

But one thought of Tapper was all it would take to guilt me back into it.

When I was ready as I’d ever be, I met Surge in our cord station, and he let me know just how things were going to work. Sessions were on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10:30 PM ‘til midnight, and they would be held in the center of Pac-Man. Yeah, Pac-Man, where some of the best GC is, and where I had my last hit that had been so devastating. I pointed out the bad decision to Surge, and he assured me that he was aware of the risks. He had a few volunteer guards attending all the meetings, making sure no one slipped into the maze to get high. Besides, the whole thing was run by that little orange ghost, Clyde. Why? I don’t know. I guess he’s a philanthropist or something. But keeping him in his own game seemed like the safest option on his part, which seemed fair.

I still think it was stupid.

Surge would escort me to and from the meetings, but I would go in alone. He has too much work to do to sit in on a group therapy session for an hour and a half. But then he told me the worst part -- I could not bring my brush and paint can to the meetings. My tools were to remain in my game. They were considered weapons, which, in the right context, they can be. That much was fair. Less fair was the fact that when too much distance is put between me and my tools, my code gets stretched out. I glitch, I get very, very uncomfortable, and am definitely put in a far less receptive state to counselling that I already don’t want to attend. I explained as much to Surge, including the fact that my brush didn’t even have its full spectrum at the time, but it was no use. Defective or not, I’m too powerful with my brush.

It would have been flattering if it didn’t suck so damn much.

But, I agreed to it. I just wanted to get it all over with. It felt so humiliating and futile. I’ve never been the sort to tolerate being locked in with a bunch of losers blubbering about their feelings, or whatever the hell. I automatically reject pretty much any and all advice, just by reflex. I could not imagine having someone tell me what to do about deeply personal, painful feelings and having it help literally anything. Knowing me, it might have just made it worse.

Yet, despite all that, there was a very real, very conscious part of me that was willing to give it a real shot. I was almost at the end of my rope, just holding onto fraying strands. I wanted to get better, I really did. 

So I went into this experience holding onto that will like a lifeline. 

Surge escorted me to Pac-Man that night, and, obviously, I went in alone. Inside, right off the train, there were these two big army guys from Front Line waiting at the entrance of the maze. Seemed like a good choice for guards, with how beefy they are. They walked with me into the dark maze, and as we wove through the bends and corners, I just kept thinking about how easily I could drop both of them and run off for a sweet hit of GC if I had my brush. Which just validated Surge’s decision to ban my tools, I guess.

We arrived at the conference room, and my burly chaperones opened the doors to show me in. When I entered, I jumped. Everyone was already there. A group of around nine or ten sat in a circle, and all eyes among them were fixed on me. Along with the eyes of that little orange ghost himself.

“Make-it Mavis,” he called calmly. “Welcome.”

I did not feel particularly welcome, not with the nervous looks and spiteful glares pointed my way. I just stood there, waiting to be told what to do. I was not interested in pleasantries. I just wanted to do the work and go.

Sensing that, Clyde nodded to an empty chair next to him. “Come, sit. Don’t be shy.”

I wanted to throw a retort at him, but I just went with it. Every time I got the urge to screw it all up, I remembered Tapper, and hot shame in my belly put me back in line. I had to do everything I could to ensure that I would never do something like what I did to his game again. I had already spent too long thinking your blood was on my hands. I did not need to throw someone else’s into the mix.

I walked into the fluorescent-lit meeting room and took my seat, and noted immediately that the space around it was far more generous than anyone else was getting, like even the chairs were scared of me. I felt so low, so hot, so embarrassed. I was in a massive hole that I’d tunneled my own way into, putting me on the same level as all those other miserable suckers. I was only there because I had been too weak to stop myself from taking my last buff. I couldn’t stop berating myself over it all. I was lethargic, sweating, ashamed, with my code stretched clear across the arcade. At least the cold metal chair felt pretty good on my feverish ass. I had that going for me.

“Alright, everybody,” Clyde addressed the group in a non-threatening voice, “let’s open up this evening by welcoming our newest member, Make-it Mavis.”

Silence. There were a few hesitant murmurs, so quiet that I definitely would not have heard them if the room was not already silent as the grave.

“Come on now,” Clyde prompted gently. “Say hello, everyone.”

I folded my arms and sighed. “They all knew I was coming,” I grumbled to Clyde, before saying to the group, “Yeah, I know. I’m here. And you don’t like it. Well, TS, ‘cause neither do I. Better learn to deal with it.”

“Actually,” Clyde responded, “there is some truth in what you’re saying, Mavis. None of us wanted to find ourselves in these situations, but everyone in this group did. And maybe we don’t understand each other as well as we could, but that’s just because we don’t know each other’s stories. That’s why we share them here, so we can recognize that addiction arises from a feeling that all living beings share -- pain. We are stronger against pain when we are united, rather than divided.”

There were a few appreciative claps. I wanted to blow my brains out.

“Everyone did know you were coming,” he told me. “But why don’t you give us an introduction in your own words? Maybe let us know why you’re here?”

He was already placing way too much trust in me. Still, I sighed loudly and stood, looking out over the group. Some were big, some were small, most I’d seen in passing, but all were looking at me with full understanding of who I was. An introduction felt superfluous and quite daunting at that point.

"You…" I said slowly, leading into a sigh. "You all know. Or you think you know. There's no point. Just-- just forget it and get this rollin', okay?"

I sat down.

There was no applause, not even awkward and scattered. There was only silence, while some glared at me and others squirmed anxiously. Even Clyde was silent for a moment, but I could see him studying me out of my peripheral.

He then spoke as pleasantly as ever, “You’re not feeling ready to share. That’s alright. Everyone’s expected to participate, but we go at our own pace. Remember that there are no judgments here, and nothing leaves this room.” He then addressed the group, “Why don’t we welcome our newest member with our own introductions? We’ll go clockwise from my left.”

The introductions began, and I made a painful effort to listen. For the most part, they seemed to be the same basic sob story. The unplugging on the 7th put the fear of Litwak in them, and buffs were the only way to escape the existential horrors they had been plunged into. It was supposed to make me feel welcome, but it seemed to just piss me off. It felt like a punishment. I was supposed to sit in a room with a bunch of random losers and pretend we were going through the same thing. All of them could go home after the meeting and have a life waiting for them in the morning. They had roles. They had purpose. They probably still had plenty of sprites who loved them. I didn’t see how I could stand to benefit from the same treatment as sprites who had not gone through the hell I did. Sprites who could walk down Game Central free from harassment or attempts on their life. Who were not being blamed for a tragedy they had nothing to do with. Whose dead best friend was not being remembered as the most hated, corrupt, murderous sprite in history, while they barely had the space to mourn.

But as they carried on, I began to hear things I didn't understand. There was grief in their voices. Some said that buffs were their only escape from how much they missed someone. They talked about loved ones and game mates being lost to the 'Roadblasters incident,' and at the time, it made no sense to me. Up until that point, I thought that you, the twins, and all of Roadblasters were the only casualties. But according to these sprites, some were 'mowed down,' 'caught in the blast,' or even 'burned to death.' Apparently, you'd killed a handful of innocent bystanders somehow, which is… I mean, I’m not gonna lie to you. 

That’s horrible.

Obviously, I remembered none of it. Well, I thought I didn’t. But there were things buried in my brain that burned like coals with every story that came. My mind didn't feel right, like it was suddenly struggling against the hold of reality, desperate to fly into another time. I felt so distressed by what I was hearing, so physically ill, that my sensitive, stretched-out code glitched slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough for my hand to clip into the seat of my chair where I was gripping.

That was just what I needed. Another way to humiliate myself. It kept me distracted from the harrowing stories, at least, as I tried to find a subtle way to tug my hand out of the pixels of the chair.

Then... she spoke.

The sound of one of the group member's voices startled me so deeply that my hand glitched free again. Her voice was not abrupt or loud or frightening -- in fact, it was fairly low, just a smoky, raspy mutter. But I felt it wriggle down into the crevices of my brain, trying to connect with a memory.

I looked at her, but it did not help much at first. I had never seen her before, as far as I could recall. She was a bipedal insect creature, modestly bigger than me, with a dull, lavender carapace and yellow wings folded behind her. She had huge red eyes that took up most of her head, but her tiny slit pupils never seemed to look my way. I still remember exactly what she said.

"My name's Worluk, and I'm an addict," she said, as if she had said it many times before. "Senseless violence killed a sprite I considered a sister. I can't just accept a reality where that's allowed to happen. Where someone so innocent can just die and there's nothing I can do about it. Everything's wrong. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it right. Buffs took the edge off, but… they didn’t end up righting any wrongs."

As she spoke, I watched her serrated teeth and mandibles move, and stared at her weird spindly fingers that gave me some disembodied, distant ache. I knew her voice, I swore I did. But it sounded off-key. Out of context.

She finished her speech, "Committing crimes alone is one thing, but, then I got my friends involved and, y’know… that’s on me."

Then it hit me. It hit me like an ice-cold tidal wave made of everything I'd been through, everything that had led me to that moment. The nightmares. The trips. The echoing voice in my head that blamed me for your death. I should have recognized that voice the second I heard it.

It was hers.

My attacker, the ringleader of the attempt on my life in Dragon's Lair, that sick, disgusting psychopath who broke my brush and carved your name into my skin, was sitting just across the room from me.

The blood in my veins froze. My heart clenched. I could feel every sick, weak muscle in my body tighten with intent to spring, like an animal with prey in its sights. I stared at her, and she finally met my gaze coolly.

I thought getting through counselling was going to be hard before. I had no idea.

[arabian-bloodstream]

Love and Lust

There has been some thought that the depiction of the sex between Arya and Gendry was just that of Arya wanting to see what it was all about or even just horny lust. While those were both clearly aspects of what happened, I think anyone seeing either of those things as the only interpretation of their love scene—because, yes, it was a love scene—missed out on quite a few key things not only in that scene but in their interaction earlier in the episode.

I also think that all of their interaction in this episode—including the lustier aspect of their lovemaking—made it fairly clear that, no, Gendry is not going to being dying in the upcoming battle. Read on…

The first episode established their attraction to one another with the flirting calling back to their shared history. This episode upped the ante with the attraction by adding a dose of lust, but deepened it by showing both the trust and ease they still share with one another that we know neither would easily share with others due to what’s happened to them in the intervening years.

There was a reminder of their history again (she remembered that he's a smith’s apprentice), he told her about beyond the wall, she called him out on glossing it over and made him tell her the truth. They were completely real with one another.

Arya showed Gendry her skill with a knife and her knowledge of death, making it clear how skilled a fighter she is, not hiding who she really is. Gendry told her that he was Robert Baratheon’s son, what Melisandre had done to him (in so many words) and his sexual history. That’s a lot of private, vulnerable information to share. And yet both did it easily. (Well, OK, Gendry was a bit cutely flustered with his last bit of share.)

There was so much stuff that the episode’s writer Bryan Cogman got in their two scenes... so much about their history, their trust in one another, their feelings, and how much set-up for what's to come to. All of that? Was showing how strong the foundation this relationship has.

I will circle back to some of these points later with regards to Gendry’s future, but first, let me tackle their other scenes. I mentioned at the top that their sex scene was a love scene and not just about horny lust or Arya wanting to try sex. And going into detail about that first scene was part of laying that down. But the second scene before the love scene as well goes into that.

It’s obvious with regards to Gendry that it is not just lust. The boy is completely gone for her. We saw that in the first scene after she threw the dragon glass knives and then said she wanted her weapon again and walked away, Gendry—unlike most sane people—looked completely awestruck and watched her walk away with hearts in his eyes. He’s completely lovestruck.

Also, in this second scene, after Arya made it clear that she wanted to have sex, Gendry’s said her name all soft and breathily. He didn’t pull away, he didn’t resist, he said her name and you could read exactly what he was saying in that exhalation of her name and by the expression on his face. He was saying: ‘Girl, you know I love you, but I'm not sure we should do this because I want to treasure you and treat you right, you know—’ But then she kissed him and he was like 'OK, fuck it, I'm having some SEX with milady! YEAH!'

And another so not just lust for Gendry, although this was more in between the lines. They wouldn’t have all but made the guy pretty much this close to a virgin. I mean… seriously. Honestly, I figured Gendry being practically a virgin would be fanon. I can’t believe that they basically made it canon. The guy was off of the show for three years—looking like that, fine as all hell—and they canonically had him actually say he only had sex with three women?! Bronn was literally with three women at the same time in the previous episode. I mean, yeah. Arya Stark is his fucking OTP. That essentially was the show’s shorthand way of saying so.  

Finally, anyone saying that this love scene was just lust was not paying attention to the last five to ten seconds. The final shot of Gendry before she comes down for the kiss he's just looking at her with complete and utter love in his gaze. Joe Dempsie played that like Gendry just completely adores Arya.... total heart eyes there.

So, you know that had to have been the direction, in the script, the plan… not lust… but love. And there is this comparison shot from Jon and Daenerys’ first-time making love where she is looking up at Jon with love and it is LITERALLY the exact same framing. LITERALLY.

From a directing point of view that is really telling. Jon and Daenerys are supposed to be this great love and there you have literally an IDENTICAL shot of Gendry and Arya. What these two shared in this episode was a lusty love scene, not just a sex scene. You can feel lust and love at the same time.

And, yeah, it was love for Arya too. She just didn’t quite realize it. But look at her face as she’s leaning down to kiss him. It’s dark and we don’t get the best angle because it’s a close-up, but there’s a softness there you can see. Which leads us to that final scene. She’s not numb; she’s not dissatisfied. She’s freaking the ever-loving fuck out.

She was feeling all kinds of hot, hot lust for him sure, and then she opened herself up to the feels and suddenly it was hitting her, she might die, *he* might die. And it was gonna hurt. A LOT. She’d already lost him once and it was going to be a helluva lot worse now because she’d re-opened herself up to him a lot more now. And in the past, Gendry hadn’t allowed himself to open himself up to her, but now… this time he had. They were open to each other and now they could very well both lose each other. She was shaken to the core. That was what we saw from her in the final scene.

A few additional thoughts…

- I loved the parallels beginning each of their scenes. Gendry doing his thing and then there was Arya watching him silently in the first scene. In the second, Arya doing her thing, Gendry watching her.

- Speaking of Arya watching Gendry in that first scene, damn, she was all but licking her lips…

- And then that little eyebrow raise she gave him when he first saw her and that smoldering look he sent back her way in return.... SO HOT!

- Joe Dempsie and Maisie Williams have such great chemistry. Damn, that scene was so fucking hot.

- Hah, it was funny. Silly Gendry, he was trying to assert some kind of dominance at one point, reaching out to wrap his hand around Arya’s head while they were kissing.... and boom within like two seconds, she shoved him onto the bags, LMAO. Nope, Gendry, she's the dominant.... always.

- Aww, but she let him take off his own pants. She was in complete command from beginning to end, but still gave him his own agency. She's so sweet.  It was definitely mutual all around.

- Speaking of… after Arya said that, the way he was so quickly untying those laces, LMAO.

- I did love that Arya just shoved him down (and, yes, it did remind me of when she did it when he kept calling her “Milady” back in season 02).

OK, circling back to Gendry’s future like I said I would… a lot that happened in this episode between these two actually made me more strongly believe that Gendry will *not* be dying any time soon. Why?

1.) Arya’s commentary about knowing death. 2.) Her knife-throwing kills. 3.) The focus on her scars, and then Gendry focusing on her scars. 4.) Gendry bringing up her wanting him to come to Winterfell. 5.) The fact that despite all of the set-up and the obvious love from Gendry’s side, Arya went into it just wanting his hot body to give her some loving. 6.) Gendry telling her he’s Robert Baratheon’s bastard. 7.) Arya’s realizing that she’s scared out of her ever-loving mind of losing Gendry (because, yeah, I’m sure that’s what the final scene meant).

In other words, there was SO MUCH SET-UP for more of their love story to flourish to come. Not to mention that Gendry still has more weapons to make, the Baratheon line is not going to die out. GRRM had three Baratheon bastards in the books and yet D&D only brought ONE to the show. I highly doubt it was just so that Arya could lose her virginity to him. If it was to have an “emotional impact” on her when he died… she would have been the one all “heart eyes emoji” during the love scene as opposed to Gendry.

Also, Joe Dempsie is wearing a Baratheon-style costume in the behind-the-scenes video for episode 01 while sitting on the set of a sunny climate and I doubt that Michelle Clapton would have created that for funsies.

Ergo, Gendry is not dying.

Thank you for coming to my Gendrya-themed Ted Talk.

[cherry3point14]

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 3

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Meta baby. Pure meta. Word count: 2,100. Chapter Summary: Your google search turns up something unexpected. A/N: No author in this one for... reasons. Also this one is kind of short and lame. A means to an end if you will, but trust me, Ch 4 is a doozy. P.S it’s nearly 3am so Chapter 4 will be up when I wake up, ya dig.

Ao3 if you prefer

It’s almost funny how dramatic the voice in your head wants to be about those suited criminals and yet it doesn’t care to elaborate on anything important. Like, say, your imminent death. The mention of it was so casual, calm, but a couple of weirdos want to pretend to be insurance adjusters and suddenly it’s all pretty prose and run-on sentences. Flowery language about broad-shouldered men in roaring muscle cars that are going to change your life. She’d kept going while you’d interviewed Maggie Hall. She’d harped on and on about how you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Of course, you couldn’t stop thinking about them, she wouldn’t shut up about them.

After an entire monologue about the way the paper felt in your hands and could never be replaced by computers—purists are the worst—you finally get to leave. That's when you get some respite. You’re walking out into the late afternoon sun and thanking Maggie for her time and it's bliss. Maggie's story sounds a little off, after years doing this you have this gut instinct for when you should investigate further. Funnily enough, you have drama in your life that you’ll submit a valid claim anyway. Just so you can get this cursed case out of your hair. You might even hurry it through the system before the thing has the chance to kill you.

You’re still not sure how a case could kill you. You’re a pencil pusher at best and the interview with Maggie is an excellent example of the majority of your fieldwork, obviously excluding the criminals at the start. Unless your demise is death by papercut.

For now, you’ve given up trying to fathom out the voice you’re hearing, especially since she's chosen to once again go radio silent. If she won’t say anything useful, like say how not to die, then you were going to have to figure out how to skip ahead on your own. Since she kept talking about the imposters you’d met that day, they seemed to be an excellent place to start.

CNK 80Q3. Ohio plates. That's as much as you know without google.

That evening you set yourself up in the same way you would to work from home. There's a desk in the corner of your dining room with a chair that offers enough lumbar support for the longest of research sessions. Although it’s your personal laptop and there’s not normally a large glass of wine sitting next to you when work.

After it powers on you’re assaulted by the usual pop-ups; windows you forgot to close last time and your emails. Procrastinating is not a new routine, and you’re on a mission, so they all get minimized instead of closed completely. Then you open a new browser window and a stark google homepage stares back at you. A hopeful new beginning.

CNK 80Q3. You’re genuinely surprised that she hasn’t started talking again to describe the change in the air as you type in the plate number. Or some drivel about the way your fingers emphasize each letter and number. It’s all there happening anyway, making the moment foreboding, but your narrator doesn’t seem care.

The first row of results are images. Weirdly its images of the license plate itself. That doesn't strike you as odd at first glance and then you think about it a little more. Why are there so many pictures of this particular license plate? Who is running around taking these pictures? You're pretty sure if you typed in your own plate number there would be no pictures of it. And then you see some shopping results where you can actually buy the plate. While the online shops might explain the images, it only really poses more questions. Why are so many people buying that license plate? What’s so special about it?

You take a sip of your wine before you scroll further, savoring the taste as well as the way it relaxes your shoulders. You don't own any 'fun' novelty coasters that say it but you're inclined to agree with the statement you've heard before. Wine really does make everything better.

You’re not yet into the murky depths of page 2 but you’re far enough down the page now to make it past the sponsored results. These links come thick and fast from websites that all seem to have one word in common. Supernatural.

Then you see your salvation. A page called Supernaturalwiki—the link is simply titled: Impala—and you stop scrolling, a grateful sound slipping past your lips as you do. Wiki, you know that word. Like Wikipedia. Wikipedia has references and moderators', clear and concise explanations. This was the easy way out you were looking for.

That’s what you hope as you click on the link anyway. Your naivety lasts all of twenty seconds before the page loads. With its stock image of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and a quote about it being the most important object in the universe.

Or it's the most important object in some books at least.

Further clicking and longer sips of wine reveal it’s a series of books called Supernatural—with the title of the wiki you should have seen that coming. These were story after story of ghosts and demons and angels? There are pages that describe monsters, urban legends, and two men. Sam and Dean Winchester. They each have dedicated pages with their whole lives mapped out.

Sam and Dean are fictional brothers and apparently the heroes. Each of their respective profiles begins with an illustrated image from book covers, and then a series of quotes that contradict those pictures. Then their lives are intricately detailed, or should you say they are chronologically recorded according to each book. You would read their histories in full if it wasn't for how tiny the scroll bar is, indicating that these profile pages are ridiculously long.

You sit back in your chair and take a deep breath in the hopes of it being soothing. Or answering all your questions. It does neither. You have no answers and more stress.

This went beyond two men pretending to do your job now. Those guys were driving around in a car with fictional license plates. What was this? Some weirdly immersive cosplay? Was that something Sam and Dean did in the books?

Even so, those two guys weren’t roleplaying at comic con, they were actually in that woman's home. If you hadn't arrived they could have done anything. They could be doing anything now.

There's a ding from the kitchen which means the frozen meal you’d thrown in the oven is ready. Not that you stop thinking about this while you go and grab it because the more you think the less sense everything makes. Like why is a narrator who, until now, was obsessed with those guys, so very silent all of a sudden?

Back at your desk with hot food, you head back to google to see if you can buy these books anywhere because knowledge is power. Unfortunately, not even Amazon has copies. It’s only when you add the term “ebook” to your search do you find a Tumblr blog with links to download all the files, split into two categories. Published and unpublished. There are a lot of Supernatural books and from the looks of it there’s an equal amount of drama over how the unpublished ones got out.

You start downloading them without consciously making a decision to read them. Downloading kind of happens because your macaroni cheese is too hot for your mouth to handle yet, and your hands still need something to do. Besides you didn’t necessarily need to read all of them, if they were truly terrible you’d delete the files. No harm, no foul. But if this was the only way to get answers then you and your kindle were going to be pretty busy this weekend.

“Morning Laura.” Nobody likes Mondays, yet you have a little bounce in your step having made your usual green tea, got dressed, and driven to work in complete and utter silence. In fact, you’d heard nothing all weekend. The caveat was that, yes, you’d spent all weekend reading those books.

You liked reading and without discrimination. Trashy romance novels at the airport? You betcha. Fantasy books thicker than your mattress? Sure thing, order a pizza. But a mystery? Well, those were your favorite. Of course, the detective needed some sort of sketchy backstory and there had to be a fishy amount of red herrings. Most importantly there had to be something to solve. It was an elevation of your day to day life and you always get sucked in. In your job, you try to solve the most benign mysteries; people faking insurance claims. More often than not there isn’t even a mystery to solve, someone really did slip and break something. So, a mystery that grabs you out of nowhere is like a promotion for you, a challenge.

That had been how those Supernatural books had dragged you in. Ghosts and ghouls you could take or leave, you might have stopped reading if that’s all there was. Then this Carver Edlund went and put in that damn side plot about their missing father. It was too enticing, addicting. From the cryptic disappearance to the indecipherable journal of clues. John Winchester would be the death of you.

Or case 24-01 would be. The jury was still out on that.

And now it’s Monday. You’ve heard nothing more from the voice in your head—it may have been a low-level case of carbon monoxide poisoning—and the boys are so close to figuring everything out you can taste it. Technically they know John is alive by now, you finished Shadow some point yesterday afternoon and felt yourself choke up at the emotional goodbye with a father they just got back. But they still have no clue what he's up to, which is a hideous funhouse mirror reflection of your own life. Hopefully, by the time they figure out John’s game plan, you'll have your life figured out too. And fingers crossed figuring everything out will involve staying alive as well.

“You look like you’re feeling better this morning.” Laura is her perky self, always a little too happy for this side of 9am.

Oh right, you went home sick on Friday. You should remember things like that. “I think it was a bug or something I ate maybe.”

“Sure, sure. One of those convenient Friday bugs.” She winks at you.

If she accused you of that say, last week, you’d have laughed it off given that's a thing everyone has in common; trying to skip out on work. So, that's what you try to do this side of the weekend. You push out something that hopefully resembles a regular person's laugh like you’re in on the joke. You have to fake it because you’re still thinking about Providence. The book you’d finished that morning instead of watching the news. You’re still wondering if Sam is starting to move on after Jessica. 

Needless to say, you understand now. The many fan blogs and the artwork you’d glanced at before you started reading. All those things that you’d disregarded as an unhealthy fascination for a bunch of books. Now you’re one of them, obsessed. Walking into the office with your kindle tucked in your bag and Salvation just begging to be read.

This goes beyond finding John. That plot got its hooks in you but you’ve known John was alive since Home and you’re still reading. You could also blame this on your general love of reading except it goes beyond that too. Honestly, it’s hard to pick one thing. They’re really great books. Sam and Dean have such turbulent lives but they still have each other. They’re snarky, lost, angry, and caring. They’re both so different but the sibling relationship is so real. And the stories go beyond a new monster every book, there are these huge interesting story arcs that you couldn't stop reading if you tried. John Winchester had been the first example of these addictive plot points, but not the only one.

“Y/N?”

You snap your head up, “sorry, sorry.”

“I was only saying you’re going to be here all day then, lunch?”

Even though Laura must see the decision on your face she still pretends to hope until you start speaking. “Actually I have a lot to catch up on so I’ll probably be working through. Tomorrow?”

She smiles brightly and nods, “sure thing.”

As bad as you feel about lying to Laura she has presented you an opportunity. Everyone thinks you were sick on Friday. They even think you're behind on your work and they don’t know you’ve already conducted the initial interview. Which makes your decision to sit at your desk and prop your kindle up next to your screen even easier. Nobody would notice the difference between you concentrating or reading. If you skip lunch you might be able to get to Bloodlust out of the way too.

Continue to Chapter 4.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23  Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

[feat-haikyuu]

600 Days: Lee Minho

Warnings !! - (Very minimal) Angst, Fluff, (Very little) Suggestive themes.

Word Count :  2618

“Summary” : Honey and Doves are the most wonderful yet scariest things in this world. 

Y/N P.O.V 98 Days 1:22 PM

  “JYP Entertainment has released an official statement about the separation of Lee Minho and Y/n L/n. Both the company and Minho expressed that no hate or negative comments should be directed at either her or her respective company. Minho has said he “holds so much love and appreciation for Y/n.” We have yet to hear a response from Y/n and-” 

 “That’s enough. Let’s bake something and eat our feelings today.” You looked up and uncurled from your position on the couch. “I thought we weren’t allowed to eat our feelings away.” Your best gives you an irritated look, “Today’s a cheat day.” You sighed as you moved to sit on the kitchen counter as she looked for ingredients. “What are you sighing about? You would’ve kept sighing if you just watching the stupid show. You were getting yourself in a better place, what happened? Are you even thinking about saying anything to the public soon?” You stared at your feet swinging against the cabinet and refused to look up. 

  To be fair, you didn’t know either. After the break up it was pretty rough for you. You didn’t even want to go in the public eye right now. You knew that you shouldn’t have jumped into a relationship so quickly, your friends wanted to support you but you could tell something was holding them back from dropping their guard completely for Minho. Even your parents weren’t sure. 

  Though, they weren’t sure if he was good enough or if he was a bad person. They were worried if your mental state was stable enough to handle another person. They were right. You weren’t okay enough and at some point, it wasn’t a relationship anymore it was a babysitting job for him. Those days of cuddling, dates, sex, and honeymoon phases were replaced by mental breakdowns, arguments, tears, and frustration. You never blamed him, and you sincerely believed that feeling was mutual. There was something that never changed though: Trust and Honesty.

“Okay ignore the questions. It was stupid.” You suddenly yelped in pain when there were a sudden smack and pain that burned into your thigh. “What the hell was that for?!” as you rubbed and held your leg to try and ease the pain. “Well, you’re just sitting there moping while I’m trying to bake a damn cake for us to eat later. So here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to play some music, help me finish this cake and pretend like we have an actual life in the next few days.” Her smile was bright and seemed as free as a bird. 

Your life didn’t seem so bad right now. 

~

378 Days 11:56 AM

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Ouch baby, did you delete my number already?” 

You felt your heart speed up. He’s acting like almost a whole year hasn’t passed. It felt nice to hear him again. You sighed contently, putting your phone on speaker and setting it down on your vanity as you continued to get dressed. “You say it like I wasn’t supposed to.” He started to laugh, sounded like a melody to your ears, almost perfect. “I was just calling because I didn’t want it to be awkward during our interview today. Especially since you know they’re asking questions about our past relationship” 

“Minho, there’s literally going to be my entire group, your group, cameras and the hosts. I don’t think they’ll allow it to even be awkward.” There was a brief moment of silence that was sort of comforting, and calm. “Y/n?” He sounded so small and vulnerable. 

“Yeah?” “I’m sorry.”

A small part of you knew what you were talking about while the other wanted him to say it out loud to be sure. “For?” “You really want me to say it out loud for you huh.” You knew he was joking but for some reason, you felt so nervous. Every passing second felt like eons to you. You couldn’t even figure out what to say so all you could do was just stay quiet.

“I’m sorry for everything. I hope you know that I never found you as ‘too clingy’. I never found you annoying all the time. You are such a beautiful and wonderful person that deserved so much better. Your depression and anxiety never defined you but it just became too much for us. I said horrible things to you that night we decided to end it all and I want to prove to you that I never meant any of them. I- I just don’t know how.” 

There was something Minho couldn’t do while you guys were dating. That was talking about his emotions and being extremely intimate with such ease. In his head, it wasn’t okay to show or express emotion. Even Chan would talk to you about how concerning it was that he couldn’t even show his own girlfriend a simple act of intimacy. Even when you guys were alone, he was forcing himself for you. It was admirable if anything though. 

“I said you were heartless that night. I said shit that no one should ever have to hear that night either. I’m sorry too but please don’t apologize we both fucked up that day so don’t feel like you were in the wrong for most of it.” 

For the first time since you two met, it felt like no matter how many awkward silences you guys had on the call, there was no insecurity. It seemed like you two had a million things to say to each other, yet nothing needed to be said. This was enough for you. You were enough and you still mattered with or without Minho and you firmly believe he was on the same page as well. 

~

498 days 10:59 PM

“It’s nice to be on a walk without security or being bombarded.” You nodded your head in agreement as you looked out onto the lake as the moon cast a beautiful reflection on the water. 

For the first time, something was different. You didn’t have a sense of fear nor, did you feel like you were damaged goods that would break further apart if he didn’t stick around. “I don’t think I’ve been out this long in a while, not since our last picnic date honestly.” 

You started to giggle saying “Yeah, the day you were feeding the birds and you were bombarded with pigeons. Probably one of the funniest days of my life.” His face started to go beet red along with his ears, though that didn’t stop him from laughing along with you. 

“It’s nice being out in public and in person with you again. I’ve missed you. I've missed my best friend.” 

You grab onto his arm and lean your head on his shoulder.

 “Me too Minnie. Me too.”

~

510 Days 7:32 AM

“You were dating someone and you didn’t tell me?” “I don’t understand why you’re upset. We aren’t even dating.”

You felt hurt. Yes, some of the pain you were feeling was because he was your last lover, but you were supposed to be his best friend and somehow he just didn’t trust you with this information. 

“It’s not about that! I was supposed to be your friend and you couldn’t even trust me with the most basic information? I found out through your company’s public statements on a stupid article!” Your ears started to go red. 

“Please stop, I don’t want to argue. I will end this facetime call right now.” His energy was starting to deplete but you were just getting started. 

“Run away from your problems. Just like you always do. I don’t fucking get it, I thought we were finally becoming friends again.” Minho closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out. 

“You and I both know we were never ‘just friends’.” And somehow that- that was it for you. You ended the call and lost all that energy that was building up. As much as you hated to admit it. He was right. He was absolutely right. 

~

515 Days 11:01 PM

10 Missed Calls from Lee Minho

~

520 Days 3:22 AM

5 Missed Calls from Lee Minho

2 Text Messages from Lee Minho

~

550 Days 12:12 PM

1 Text Message from Lee Minho

~

551 Days 11:11 PM

1 Missed Call from Y/n L/n

~

555 Days 7:01 PM

Your group members decided to go out to eat while you stayed home. You decided to save money and you felt like your social battery was depleted so your friends understood and took the opportunity. You were eating and watching your favorite movie. To be honest, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit hurt about what happened to your friendship with Minho. 

Don’t get it twisted, you were fine without him. You could fall in love with someone else, continue your career and just thrive. But you didn’t want to, and that’s what hurt. You wanted to be the one he could count on, the one he would just come home to. You wanted him to choose you and you understood you were being selfish. 

Your feelings are valid. 

Suddenly you heard soft knocks at your door taking you out of your spiral. You thought it was your friends coming back to pick up a forgotten item but when you opened your door it took a few seconds for you to compute who was there. 

“Uhm. It’s really cold out here, I’m tired and I brought your favorite food.”

You cocked your head to the side like a small puppy. Minho waved his hand in front of your face that caused you to come back to reality. “Why - Uhm - When- Yes. Yes, you can come in,”

You slowly moved out of his way to let you in and watched him enter your apartment. Though he suddenly stopped in the middle of your hallway with his back facing towards you as you shut the door. “I had such a shit day today, I was broken up with, I’ve been arguing with my friends and I just- I don't know. I wanted to feel like I was home so I came here. If you don’t mind.” “Not at all.” For some reason, he seemed very… small? When you guys were dating he never let you see him this vulnerable.

“You can set the food on the coffee table if you want. I don’t care about making a mess.” He began to chuckle quietly and continued towards the kitchen. You followed him and jumped to sit on the kitchen counter next to the food. “ I told you, you could’ve set it o-” “Okay but would your friends appreciate that? Plus, you’re a messy eater so then the couch would’ve started to smell like it.” He quirked his eyebrow at you and smiled. You started to believe his lips still tasted like honey and that’s all you wanted.

~

578 Days, 11:24 PM

“You look exhausted.” Minho brought you back from blank staring. You look up at him and almost forget you were at a party that you and your group decided to go to but as time passed you started to feel overwhelmed. You just wanted to go home. “Yeah, I’m just a little out of it and to be honest, I don’t even want to even want to go back with them.” You nodded your head towards your friends and they were obviously very drunk and going at it. “C’mon, let’s go get snacks and go to my dorm. The boys aren’t going there anyway, they’re planning to spend the night here.” Honestly, you’re so mentally overwhelmed and exhausted that you completely forgot who hosted the party.

“No. As much as I’d love to, I’m the designated driver and I won’t leave my friends here. They’re drunk and I refuse to leave them to fend for themselves.” For some reason, your blood boiled a little bit. Not in a bad way of course. You felt protective of your friends, you saw these girls as a family and they were pretty much your family. 

Minho smiled, he understood how you felt and sat down with you. When you looked towards him he looked like he was lost in thought. For a minute, just for a minute, you let yourself take him in. He wasn’t your boyfriend but it didn’t hurt to look. He was the embodiment of a dove. Beautiful, untamable and yet kind. “Oh!” You jumped out of your skin a little and felt embarrassed hoping you didn’t get caught in your staring. “What?”

“Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin aren’t drinking! I can tell them to keep an eye on your friends. You deserve a break from this place, and you trust them.” He had the biggest and brightest smile and you appreciate him being in your life. 

He was right, but you felt somewhat guilty. Did you cave in though? Yes. Yes you did. You sent the group chat a message about your whereabouts for the night knowing they won’t worry about your location till the morning. 

~

578 Days 11:48 PM

“Okay, let’s put on a Disney movie?” He turned his head to look at you for his approval. “Or we can watch a Marvel movie and point out everything wrong with it while also loving it.” “So you want to watch Endgame?” For some reason, even though he was right; you felt attacked. You purse your lips and reply in agreement. 

As you guys settled down to eat your food, you guys sat right next to each other and you couldn’t help but notice the lack of distance. Minho started the movie and any awkwardness or tension dissipated. Your arm and leg were touching his and it just felt like you were on fire. Your face for sure gave yourself away without a doubt. 

He smelled like honey though. He was just that addicting and sweet. You don’t want to separate from him, you felt that the more you tried to move the more he just stuck with you. 

Though, you might’ve been spacing out because out of nowhere you felt a warm hand cupping your cheek.

“Hey, hey are you okay?” The concern on his face was clear. “I know you were tired from the party, do you want to be alone for the night, or take a na-”

~

599 Days 12:03 AM

You never gave him the chance to finish because you kissed him. That’s all you wanted to do for so long and you decided to give in. Your lips melded together and even though he was surprised he did his best calm himself. 

Though for some reason, you didn’t think he would actually kiss you back. You faltered from being in shock but he pulled you in closer and you moved along with him. You swung your leg over his lap to straddle him. 

You finally were able to taste the honey you’ve been yearning and you were loving every second of it. Yet, it didn’t feel enough. You wanted more.

Your lips were bruising. Your heart was soaring. 

~

599 Days 11:58 PM

Waking up in his bed wasn’t something we're expecting the night before. You felt a sense of calmness. You woke up with Minho’s arm draped over your stomach. You didn’t bother trying to wake up properly, instead, you turn over and push yourself further into his torso, hugging him. 

He held you tighter while he was sleeping and that alone made you feel like home. 

You two never reached 600 days since the breakup. You and Minho didn’t want to add any more numbers to that anyway. 

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 36

Ansgar slept fitfully during the night. The unfamiliar bed, the soft occasional coos and rustles coming from the baby monitor, the thumps and sleepy whines from the Bean’s room, and ultimately, the lack of Joline’s warm body beside his kept him wide and painfully awake.

Not to mention the arrival of his brother and sister in law at two o’clock in the morning. Their attempt at quiet whispers and floor-creaking tip toes as they made their way through their house was comical to Ansgar at just how ineffectual it was. They may as well have stomped and shouted for all the noise they made.

At least, it sounded like they had fun.

And so, come early morning, still dark, Ansgar pushed himself, groaning, out of bed. He reached immediately for his phone, disappointed to find Joline hadn’t responded to, or even read his texts.

“Shit,” he muttered, running his palm viciously down his face. “It’s too early anyway,” he said. “Probably still sleeping, the lucky darling.” He rubbed his eyes, blinked away the rest of the sleep - or lack thereof - and texted.

5:01: Good morning, darling. 5 am comes too quickly. Hope you rested well. See you at 10 x

***

He strode out of the bedroom, dressed and showered, combing his hands through his damp hair. He’d left his curls loose again, eschewing his typical slicked, combed and pomaded look. It wasn’t a conscious decision, not a calculated thought, just… an instinct. A knowledge. A deference to Joline’s comments, to the way she toyed with his hair when they made love, to the anticipation of more of it to come.

And of course, Rebecka noticed.

“You look… different, Sgar,” she said, handing him a cup of coffee. “What gives?”

“Well, good morning to you too, my dearest sister.” He took the cup, bent to her and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. “Thanks,” he muttered, and took a long drink of the fragrant brew. “Mmmm. You’re up early, early bird.”

“Ingrid woke up. Had to feed her,” she shrugged, yawning. She walked back to the table and sat slowly down, straightening out the placket of her pyjama top. “What’s going on with you?” she pressed. “Something’s off.”

“How was the wedding?” Ansgar asked congenially. “Did Mags make a fool of himself on the dance floor?”

Her eyes flicked up to him, fixing him with a deep, delving stare. “Quit the diversionary tactics, Sgar. I’m a journalist. I’m tenacious. I won’t give up. Now, spill.” She sipped at her coffee.

Ansgar leaned against the back of a chair, crossing his legs beneath him. He drank his coffee, eyeing Bec over the rim. “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re on about.”

Rebecka glared at him, eyes narrowed. “Okay,” she intoned, nodding sagely. “Don’t forget, Sgar. I’m married to your twin.”

“So?” Ansgar shrugged.

“So, I can tell what you’re thinking. I can read you and Mags like books on a shelf.”

“No. You can’t.” He spat, shaking his head. “Don’t even try.”

“Oh. Really.” Bec’s eyes widened above a broad, knowing smile. She settled back into her seat, perched her feet on the opposite chair and cradled her steaming cup by her chest. “Tell me, Ansgar. What’s her name?”

He stopped, mid-sip, and stared. He held the cup to his lips for a long moment before he lowered it slowly, set it on the table, and straightened. He swallowed, dropped his customary mask, and let his lips curl into a blithe sigh of a smile. “Her name,” he said brightly, “is Joline.”

***

10:35 a.m. Monday

Ansgar peered at his watch for what he knew was at least the fiftieth time since he’d read the face at 10:00. He’d paced Joline’s office back and forth for the past twenty minutes, sure he’d worn a fresh path in her already threadbare Oriental rug.

He’d even taken to sitting at her desk, making a surreptitious attempt to gain access to her laptop in an attempt to locate her. He tried various combinations of the names Hugo and Adrian and Emilie and Elias and even his own name until the system locked him out of any further tries.

He’d called, and by the time he’d finished, his phone showed twelve calls to her mobile number and two calls to her land line, all of which went unanswered. Voice mails, two. Face time attempts, three.

He’d walked the theatre, asking for her at the reception desk, the ticket office, the light booth. He asked the foreman of his own company, the costume designer, the stage manager, the director of the production of Aida. None had seen her. None had heard from her. With every person he’d asked, it became more and more difficult to hide his anxiety, his fear, his apprehension….

… his anger.

And, then there were the texts.

10:05: You’re late.

10:07: How long are you going to keep me waiting?

10:18: I’m still at your office. Are you on your way? Are you okay?

10:26: Joline, respond to me. Pick up your phone. It is most unprofessional of you to miss a meeting with your partner without notice. Please advise where you are ASAP. Work cannot proceed without your authorization.

10:30: If you are not here by 10:40 I am going back to my office. Text me when it is convenient for you to reschedule this meeting.

10:35: Joline. Where the fuck are you?

“God damn it to hell!” he bellowed, wrenching open her office door. He strode angrily down the marble hallway, his loafers slapping against the slick surface, echoing off the walls like his heartbeat in his ears.

He clenched the steering wheel two-handed as he bobbed and weaved his Tesla viciously through the midday Stockholm traffic. He sat forward, keeping  his eyes fixed straight ahead. But his thoughts were elsewhere, far away.

He couldn’t help it. He thought of Faye, damn her. His flesh, his bones, his very soul remembered. Remembered that desperate, empty coldness, that numbness of the nerves and fire behind the eyes and thickness in the chest that felt as if he were choking in the sulfuric clouds of Hell.

He wondered, as he slipped the car dangerously into the left lane, nearly missing a trash collector truck, whether she’d, whether Joline, too, had run from him. Whether she had severed ties and slipped away and deserted him like Faye had. Wondered if she, too, abandoned him.

Left him.

Took his heart and wrenched it asunder at the seam of his scars.

Heaving the wheel hand-over-hand, he caromed the Tesla, tires squealing, into his parking spot, and threw the car into park. He sat there, breathing like a grampus through his nose, his throat too tight, his jaw too clenched to even open his mouth. His heart pounded against his chest wall like a caged lion desperate for its freedom. “Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his fist against the dashboard. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Not again! Not fucking again! I never should have said that! Never should have told you… told you….”

Never should have told you I loved you.

He peered down at his phone, the mute-arsed piece of shit. He lifted it, opened the messages, and peered at it. “Come on,” he growled, willing it to chime. “Fucker, come on, give me something, you useless bastard.”

Nothing.

He opened the car door, lifted the phone high and nearly threw it across the garage, his imagination painting him a picture of the phone and all of his overtures of love to Joline breaking into a million pieces – glass and little red broken hearts shattered against the concrete abutment.

But instead, he lowered the device, regarded it once more, set his thumbs to the keyboard and typed.

11:10:  Ms. Lindberg. Come when convenient. I may or may not be available.

Pocketing the phone, he lit from the car, slamming the door shut with an echoing, hollow thunk. He kept his hand there, on the top of his Tesla, and he bowed his head, thinking - or trying to think. His mind was clouded, foggy, his logic blocked with filthy, sticky clots of pain. He breathed, calming himself, flushing those mental pathways clean of corrosive emotion.

And then, he imagined two compartments set apart by a partition in his mind. A massive wall.

He placed Faye in one compartment. Placed her there and sealed her up along with the gory, blood-soaked detritus of her -  his anxiety, his worry, panic, desperation, despair, self-hatred, loneliness, loss, and hopelessness.

And Joline he set, free to roam, within the other.

And this wall, he fashioned it of steel girders and heavy masonry block and thick concrete and kevlar siding.

Impregnable. Indestructible. Mathematical.

Faye =/= Joline. The two sets do not intersect. Disjoinder. Non-union.

And thereby, the fog lifted. He found he could think again. He stood up straighter. He settled his shoulders. He relaxed his breathing, let his clamped jaw go slack, slowed his heartbeat. Logic, as it does, won out over emotion once again and the calculations and numbers and words flowed freely through his intellect.

“Something has to be wrong,” he told himself, calmly. “It’s not you. She’s not left you. Ergo,” he muttered. “She can’t communicate. She’s distracted. Something happened. She had an accident, she… Jesus!” His eyes flashed with the realization of it. “Her mother!”

And, like a shot arrow, he ran toward his private lift, mashing his hand on the button. While he waited, foot tapping, eyes staring at the moving numbers, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

And as expected, the call went to voice mail.

“Elias,” he barked. “Ansgar Martinsson here. Ring me when you get this. It is an urgent matter so you must respond immediately if you can.”

And as the lift arrived, he hung up and opened his messages again.

11:14: Joline. Is it your mother? Is she ill? Tell me where you are and I will be there.

***

Peritoneal Dialysis Infection.

The doctor called it. The doctor used those words to explain what happened, why Emelie needed to be hooked up to hemodialysis, intravenous antibiotics, a heavy drip of hydration and a ventilator to breathe for her. Her body suffered from a massive infection. She no longer had the antibodies to fight, her system already weak and depleted by her low red blood count. Her own immune system attacking itself, gone haywire by a disease that confused healthy and detrimental cells. The lupus had destroyed her kidneys, her blood full of toxins, her belly full of infection.

Joline understood it logically, but she couldn’t justify it happening all at once and certainly not to her mother. The doctors explained it time and time again to both of them, but Jolie still felt a sense of outrage for all of it. For the doctors explanations. For the lack of a cure. For their inability to fix it, to even make it better.

Joline felt her mother being ripped from her life, ripped from her arms, and ripped from her heart. Her heart ached with missing her mother already, the way she pulled Joline’s leg about her choice in shoes, the way she played with Joline’s hair while she worked at her computer, how she met Joline at the door when she was due in.

Joline clutched her mother’s hand (not cold but not warm either) as she listened to the machines beep and whirl and drip and spin. She willed all of it to work, to bring life back into her mother, to bring her mother back to her. She wasn’t done, and even as a grown woman, she needed her mother’s practical guidance and savage logic.

Tears slid down her cheeks in utter helplessness. She couldn’t lose hope and she wouldn’t, but she felt impotent, handicapped and entirely lame… just sitting there, doing nothing. But didn’t dare more, to wander away and leave her mother’s side. Emelie needed her, and Joline needed her mother.

The chair was anything but comfortable, but she stayed, nearly glued to it, waiting for a miracle to occur. She’d sit on railroad pikes if it meant saving her mother from this danger, this hint of death. Joline laid her forehead on her hand gripped around her mother’s and stared at the jeans she wore beneath. She couldn’t remember putting them on, the act of sliding into them forgotten in her haste, in her agonizing stress… but she must have done.

On her days off, at home, oversized t-shirts with the neck cut out suited her. She still wore the Harley Davidson one that she’d been wearing while reviewing her notes for Ansgar.

Ansgar… he felt a million miles removed from this, from her, from their fledging relationship. A million miles, a million hours, a million heartbeats and breaths away.

The jeans she’d shimmied into just before the first responders arrived and rung the bell to fetch her mother had been the first pair Ansgar had seen her in, after the smart pencil skirt that she’d worn to invade his office. She’d changed into the threadbare, broken knees, painted massacre of denim, but the first pair of jeans she’d worn in front of Ansgar, that first day they met. She couldn’t figure why this was important, other than… she missed him. She missed her life.

Absently she pulled at the white strings at the knee of her jeans, trying not to cry, trying not to dissolve on the spot. She didn’t often find comfort in another’s arms but she suddenly longed and craved for Ansgar’s, coveted his confident strength, yearned for his unflappable arrogance.

Joline could imagine him in her mind berating the doctors until they fixed her mother. Demanding a better doctor, a better specialist, a better hospital, even a better procedure because he simply could. That’s precisely who Ansgar Martinsson was. He expected the best and accepted no less than that. He didn’t accept failure.

A sob, a combination of fear for her mother’s fate and the realization about how she felt for Ansgar, escaped in a hiccoughing sound and she finally lifted her head. Swiping at the tears with the heel of her free hand, she whined and cried to the woman in the bed, “Oh, God, mama… I love him and you haven’t met him yet.”

Please don’t leave me. I can’t bear it, mama. Not yet. I don’t know what I’m doing.

Finally, mercilessly, Elias made it to the hospital. He held Joline securely in his arms as the doctor repeated everything for him, for his benefit, without the filter of Joline’s limited knowledge. Elias remained stoic, listening, intent on getting pertinent information and a possible course of treatment. The next three days were critical to get through and would indicate whether Emelie would survive this bout of infection. The doctor also mentioned a kidney transplant, not for the first time, as a possibility.

Elias rubbed Joline’s back, imbuing her with some form of comfort, as she took it the hardest. His sister was capable of so much, she exceeded in diplomacy and logic and management in her everyday life, but she experienced intense empathy for her family. That strong part of her all but disappeared when her emotional, compassionate side emerged.

When the doctor left them alone outside the intensive care unit, just outside their mother’s window, the siblings tried to make sense of all that happened in such a short amount of time. “Did she give any indication that she was unwell?” Elias asked softly, without blame.

“You know how she is, she’s so stubborn about… God! I wish I’d known. I should’ve known!”

Elias pulled her to his shoulder and kissed the top of his sister’s head. “You can’t blame yourself, Jo-Bo. You know that. This,” he indicated their mother upon the hospital cot with a wave of his hand, “was always a danger. The course treatment she chose… it was a risk.”

“I just… I need her well. I need her with me. I need her, Elias.”

He nodded silently, stroking her back again. He let the quiet between them calm her, dry her tears some. It was so rare to see or hear Joline cry that he didn’t know any other way to stop them other than letting them run their course. “I remember the first day mum brought you home. I hated you, Jo-Bo,” he said with a sad chuckle.

Joline laughed through her tears even.

“It was a Friday. I was meant for this show and tell or some shit at school. Instead our grandmother kept me home to meet my baby sister. I was pissed right the fuck off—“

“At five?” Joline asked with a reserved smile.

“Don’t mock me. I never got to show off my car collection.”

“The horror!”

“You were a little terror,” Elias pulsed his arm around her shoulders. “Cried all the damn time. I was the star until you came along.”

Although their father was a big part of both of their lives when he was alive, for the most part, Emelie was a single parent. Bryan, their father, visited once a month and took long vacations in the summer to spend time with them.

“Sorry, I stole your spotlight, big brother.”

Elias brought Joline into a hug. “I do remember when things changed though… just so you know.”

“You don’t still hate me for stealing your thunder?”

“Just a bit sore, but I’m getting better,” he joked, holding her tightly. “You gave me your scone. You were maybe, three or four? I was whining mum’s ear sore about something… she gave you the last lemon glazed or cranberry. From your highchair, you pushed your plate to me. You kept the peace even then, and I knew you wanted it.”

“Did you give it back?”

“Hell, no! I wanted it! But you weren’t so bad after that.”

After another lull in their conversation, both lost in their musing about Emelie, Joline asked, “What are we going to do, Elias? This… this is serious. I can’t lose her. Not now!”

“It is serious,” Elias acknowledged with a nod. “We just have to see how the next few days go, and we’ll make the decisions together. Yeah?”

Joline nodded, fighting back another wave of tears. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t know… I still don’t know what to do, how to fix this.”

“Be patient. There’s nothing you can do. I know you’re used to fixing things, finding the best solutions for all parties, Jo-Bo. But this isn’t one of those things for you to solve.”

She nodded, unconvinced.

“Why don’t I sit here with you and mum for a couple of hours, yeah? We’ll talk. Keep her company. Let her know that we’re here pulling for her. At nine,” he said looking at his mobile, “I’ll hit the cafeteria to get breakfast. If you need anything in the morning, I’ll get it and you can stay by mum, okay?”

[j-hoseok94]

Book: House of Cards

Author: ReyRey

01•02•03•04•05•06•07•08•09•10•11•12•13•14

FOURTEEN

A few days after my whole anxiety attack that i had i returned to school. I haven't been sleeping well at all since then. I've been having dreams more like nightmares. Most of it was too dark to tell what was going on. I just knew i was scared, i was pushing something away in all of the dreams that was a constant thing. I would wake up in a cold sweat and for a moment i would remember what happened but not details. I'd forget right after that split moment. I knew it had to of been something tragic or disturbing for my mind to block it out. Something i couldn't handle dealing with. I was exhausted and fell asleep in most of my classes.

"Rose. Wake up." He nudged my elbow and i sat up straight. "What is up with you lately? First you haven't spoke to me in weeks, you look like hell. Have you been sleeping?" The concerned look on my best friend's face said everything. He had been worrying and probably for weeks. I dropped my head back down to the table resting it on my arm. I just wanted to sleep without having terrible nightmares.

"I am exhausted Axel you don't even know." I decided to fill him in on everything that had happened in the last three weeks or so. He was listening contently not showing much emotions. The party was a grey area all together. When i finished he leaned down to finish eating his lunch.

"Well that explains why Yoongi fought Jungkook in the hall the other day. To be fair i feel like Jungkook had it coming, i mean he was forcing Yoongi to not follow after you." My friend sat back as i raised my head looking at him.

"What?! When did this happen? I didn't know about this. They fought! Is everyone okay?" I was freaking out about this. No one told me what was going on. I hadn't been at school and I've, for the most part, been ignoring everyone. I had to find one of them, any of them. I needed to know they were good. I got up and raced out of the cafeteria, my adrenaline kicking in. I ran down the hall panting for breath i turn the corner and literally run into Taehyung.

He catches me in his arms as i collide with him. "Oop i'm so sorry TaeTae. Do you know where Jungkook or Yoongi are? I need to see one of them it doesn't matter which one." He pulls away from me and looks down at my face. He smiles at me with that angelic boxy smile he has.

"Yoongi is around the corner with..." I pushed past him not letting him finish.

"Thanks Tae!!" i run away and around the corner.

I felt like i was floating i was running so fast. I was worried that he got hurt and i wanted to know what happened. 'why did he fight him? Does he know? Is that it? Did they fight cause he actually loves me?'

The thought of Yoongi actually loving me made my heart soar. I always wanted to be with him and no one else. Jungkook was just to make him see that i was desirable so he'd fight for me. I wanted him to fight for me, to tell me that i was the one he wanted to be with. He never left my mind or my heart.

As i turned a corner to a hall i didn't recognize, i was stopped in my tracks. Leaning against the wall of windows facing the front of the school was a couple. I went to back up slowly as to not disturb them. I was moving slow until the hood on the guy fell back and exposed his very Minty green hair. My heart dropped to the floor and my breathe caught in my throat. I couldn't move i was in shock.

He was looking at her and moving strands of her hair from her face. He leaned down and kissed her. My feet unfroze before the rest of my body and when i went to run away i tripped over nothing and fell on my ass. "Ow fuck." i whispered to myself.

He glanced up and he saw me. His hair, all crinkly and messy, was in his eyes but i knew he saw me. I sat there for a moment just watching him watch me. He stepped away from the girl and stepped forward. I slid my legs under me in one quick smooth movement and i was on one knee. I stood up slowly never leaving his eye contact. I was angry, no i was livid. My hair was in my eyes and i didn't care. I stared him down and he stopped moving completely. My fists balled up in a death grip.

"What's wrong baby?" My eyes snapped over to the very perky girl clinging to his waist. I didn't know who it was her head was down and her hood was covering her hair. I glanced back his way hoping he saw the hurt and anger in my eyes.

"Not now Aphrodite." He pushed her off of him with a low growl in his voice. My eyes widen as i realize who this girl is. She lifted her head and dropped her hood letting her purple hair loose. She had it pinned up in a ponytail. She was still gorgeous even though i was extremely pissed and felt the betrayal of her actions.

I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was. She was the one that gave me the idea of faking a relationship in the first place. Now she had Yoongi wrapped around her finger. They looked at me like i was crazy. "Oh god this is rich. You're with Aphrodite? Haha oh my gawd well i see that i was right to begin with. Guess she got the best of you and i got the ass end of the stick."

"Rose it's not even like that.."

"Oh boy please save it. I saw all i needed to. I never thought you'd set me up like that Aphrodite i have to give you props." I crossed my arms across my chest and dropped my hip, i was so beyond mad i was calm.

She rolled her eyes, "I never told you to pick Jungkook. You could've picked any of them but it just had to be him." She snarled at me and that only made me smile.

"So you like Kookie haha oh this just keeps getting better and better." She stepped towards me and i stood my ground not even flinching as she got closer to me. "So what you've moved onto Yoongi? Lemme guess you plan on just going through the whole ass group huh? First it was Jimin then you 'liked' Jungkook and now you're with Yoongi. Who's next Taehyung? Hobi? Or were you gonna try and turn Namjin straight again?" I giggled a little.

She got closer to my face and i just kept my stance. "At least i never had to fake a relationship to make the guy i love jealous because, i couldn't put my big girl panties on and tell him i was wrong. I especially didn't use his closest best friend as the pawn in my little game. At least i don't have to pretend every minute of the day that i love someone i really don't. HAHA, i never had to lie or force Yoongi to be with me. Jungkook didn't even wanna be with you."

Her words sank in and i knew she was right. I didn't actually sit and talk to Yoongi about anything i just assumed he was using me because of my own insecurities. I used his best friend to make him jealous and instead it just pushed him into Aphrodite's arms. I dropped my arms and looked over at Yoongi, he had his hands in his pockets and his head down. His shoulders were slumped and all i wanted was to hug him. I wanted to piss her off i wanted her to be so damn mad she was at my level. "You're right Jungkook didn't wanna be with me cause he knew i love Yoongi." I pushed past her and shoulder checked her.

I walked over to Yoongi grabbed his face and looked him in the eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, "I love you Min Yoongi. I always have." I gently brushed my lips against his in a teasing way, "But you're with Aphrodite." I dropped my hands and stepped away from him i went to walk past him as he grabbed my wrist. He pulled me back to him and held me around my waist.

"Who said you could do that Kitten?" He leaned in and my heart stopped. His lips met mine and i felt the warmth grow in my chest. I missed him and i didn't even notice how badly. I let my tongue sneak out to meet his and he pulled me tighter. I was too caught up in the moment. As my mind came back to reality i realized that this wasn't right. I gently pushed him away breathing fast. 'He has Aphrodite now this isn't right. I can't get him back like this. I had to end my fake relationship with Jungkook first.'

"I-I.. We can't do this." I walked off wishing i could take back everything i saw happen between them. I just wanted to hide from my stupidity. I loved him but i can't be with him knowing that there was a mess i very much needed to clean up.

+Jimin+

I stayed in the shadows trying very much to keep hidden. I saw everything happen and i couldn't help but envy a little. He got to kiss her and feel her body close. See her smile and hear her laugh. From what i knew she had eyes only for Yoongi but i knew that could always change. I was gonna have her one way. I knew he would fuck up at some point and when he does i'll be there to catch her when she falls.

She walked off and i clung to the wall so, to not be seen.

"Well i think that went good. She thinks we are together. It was a fun distraction while it lasted but now you gotta help me out, like you promised." Aphrodite came into view and stood in front of Yoongi. He handed her a piece of paper and she smiled up at him. "Can you trust me?" He sighed and nodded his head. "Then i'll get your evidence. Meet you at the spot later." She kissed his cheek and walked away.

A few moments later he walked off in a different direction. 'What the hell was going on?' I run my fingers through my hair the theories rushing through my head. I walked off to my car knowing that there was more to this. I had a very bad feeling about this.

"Don't worry baby girl i'll protect you. No matter what happens i'll be there for you."

XX

[out-of-jams]

Supine | 01: Jump

Summary: Mina Lee has always wanted to change the world for the better with her music. After landing a chance audition with Big Hit Entertainment, will she be able to traverse the K-pop world full of challenges, heartbreak, and sacrifice? Will her petals bloom under the careful guidance of seven talented boys? Or will she wilt under the pressure and self-doubt?

    Warnings/Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Trainee!Reader. Idol!Reader. Depictions of anxiety. Explicit language.       Pairing: Reader/Undecided

                                             | Next | Masterlist |

“I can’t do this.”

The words escaped parted pink lips in a shaky exhale of breath. They were spoken so quietly that the syllables were almost drowned out by the bustling noise of city life. Leaning against a light pole, a girl no older than twenty spoke into a phone pressed against her ear.

“Yes you can, Mina. Stop being such a baby.” A feminine voice responded over the slight static of the call. The voice sounded nothing short of annoyed.

“But what if I embarrass myself again, Soohee? I already bombed the last two auditions I went to.” The girl, Mina, leaning against the light pole sighed and tilted her head back to rest against the cold metal. Her dark eyes traced the path of a bird flying overhead, it’s white wings almost blending into the few clouds hanging above. A light breeze blew by, ruffling Mina’s dark hair and she closed her eyes as the strands stuck to her eyelashes. Too lazy to brush them away, she stood like that, unmoving.

“That was just because of nerves,” came the reassuring response.

Eyes still closed, Mina opened her mouth to spit a quick retort. But before she could get the words out of her mouth, Soohee spoke again.

“Look, fifty years from now, when you’re looking back on your life, don’t you want to be able to say that you had the guts to walk into that building?”

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Mina let a small smile upturn the edges of her lips. “Did you really just quote Transformers at me?”

“Damn straight,” Soohee huffed over the line before sighing. Mina could hear her best friend shuffling papers around from where she’d been studying for her upcoming midterms and felt the guilt creep up for interrupting Soohee with her stupid anxious feelings. “What do you have to lose?”

“Everything?” Mina retorted in a small voice. “If I fail again, it’ll just prove them all right, Soohee.”

“Then prove them wrong,” the voice of her best friend softened before hardening again. “I’m hanging up now. But seriously, Mina, this is exactly what you came here for. If you back out now, everything you’ve done will have been for nothing. Don’t let all that shit be in vain.”

“You’re right. I’m being stupid.” Mina opened her eyes again and took a deep breath. She watched as pedestrians weaved their way through the cars stopped at the traffic light at the end of the block. Shifting her attention to the building across the street, her dark eyes peered up at the many tinted windows. “I’ll go. But I’m never going out in public again if I embarrass myself.”

“You say that like you’re not already an embarrassment to yourself.”

An indigent squeak left Mina’s mouth as Soohee’s high pitched cackle blasted through the phone speakers. Just as she was about to retort, she heard the distinctive click of the line hanging up before a dial tone beeped in her ear. With a roll of the eyes and a huff of breath, Mina’s shaking fingers pressed the red end-call button before slipping the phone into the pocket of her black shorts.

Lifting her other hand from where it hung uselessly at her side, Mina let her eyes rove over the bright orange letters printed on the white business card pinched between her fingers. The cardstock felt familiar under her fingertips from the countless times that she’d pulled it out to stare in disbelief. Embedded innocently on the center of the card were the words:

                                               Big Hit

                                        Entertainment

And underneath that was a phone number and email for the manager in charge of production for the company, as well as the address to the building. However, the small printed contact information had been crossed out with a thick green sharpie. Flipping over the card, Mina’s thumb brushed over the messily written words on the back.

                                         audition anytime

                                            -pdogg

Maybe I should have called first , Mina thought as she read over the familiar words.

“Too late.” The words were drowned out by the loud honking of a car as it passed the slow driver in front of it. Clutching the card like a lifeline, Mina pushed off the street lamp and straightened the plain, quarter-sleeved white shirt tucked into her shorts.

“You got this, Mina.” The girl murmured to herself as she walked the half-block down to the crosswalk. As she joined a small crowd of people for the red hand symbol to change, she thought back on how she’d gotten there.

Two weeks ago, she’d been crammed into a small table in the corner of some small karaoke bar. Squished between a wall and her roommate and boss, she tossed back another shot of soju. The empty shot glass joined the other ones scattered on the small rounded table; the remnants of her failure. Earlier that day, Mina had completely bombed an audition for JYP, one of the big three entertainment companies in Seoul. And two days before that, she’d frozen up and forgotten the lyrics of the song she had been singing at an audition for SM entertainment.

Mina had been beating herself up at work throughout her afternoon shift at her job at a convenience store near Seoul university. Her boss and roommate, Eunji, had caught her mid-panic attack in the back room and was able to talk her down off the ledge. After she got her breathing back under control, Eunji closed down the store and brought Mina out to blow off some steam.

Three shots of soju later, Mina found herself taking the stage, mic in hand and adrenaline burning through her blood. She had always found solace in performing in front of a crowd. There was just something about being able to connect her voice and words with an audience that shot euphoria into her veins.

The alcohol had burned through her stage fright, and the second that the music blasted out from the shitty speakers in the bar and the music dimmed, the words flowed from her lips like water. All of the pent up emotions from the past few days weaved themselves into high notes and vibrato. Eyes closed and body moving with the rhythm, the stress and the weight placed upon her shoulders loosened.

It wasn’t until the applause broke through the ending notes of 2, 3! By BTS, that Mina felt herself coming back down to the present. The crowd packed into the cramped bar clapped her on the shoulder as she descended the four short stairs to the stage and made her way back to her small table in the back. However, she’d only made it halfway there when a man stepped into her path.

“Excuse me,” Mina muttered, stepping to the side to try and get around him.

“Wait.”

His voice had been fairly deep and she struggled to hear him over the deep bass of the next song playing from the speakers. Lifting her gaze from the disgustingly sticky floor underneath her shoes, Mina met the bespectacled brown eyes of the taller man. His hair hid underneath a black baseball cap and one of his big hands scratched the small beard on his chin as he stared down at her. The vibe the man gave off was calming and Mina felt her tense shoulders relax slightly under his gaze.

“Yes?” She finally spoke, having to crane her neck up to look at him because of her short stature.

“You’re good.” Giving a small jerk of his head towards the stage, his voice spoke clearly over the wailing, off key vocals of the new singer on stage. “Ever think about joining the entertainment business?”

“I- yeah,” blinking in surprise, the dark haired girl nodded her head slowly. “Yeah.”

“What’s your name, kid?”

The man’s red bomber jacket seemed to almost glow underneath the multicolored pulsing lights. As one particularly bright, ugly yellow light flashed above, Mina could see her own bewildered face reflected in the lenses of his round glasses. Something almost like hope started to bloom in her chest and she hesitantly reached out to grasp onto it.

“Mina.” The words left her partially dry lips as she reached out to grasp his outstretched hand. “Mina Lee.”

A body bumping into her shoulder jostled Mina out of her thoughts and she jerked her head up to see the red symbol on the light across the street changed. The small crowd bustled forward and her feet followed. Blocking out the sounds of city life around her, Mina slowed to a stop in front of a small staircase leading up to the light brown colored building of Big Hit entertainment.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nervous shaking, the dark haired girl climbed the stairs before her nerves could get the best of her. She kept going when she reached the glass double doors at the top and reached out to pull on one of the cool, metal handles.

Business card clutched tightly in her hand, Mina entered the building with a whoosh of air. All noise from outside the building silenced itself as the soles of her shoes tapped lightly on the marbled floor. Across from the entrance was a long rectangular reception desk, and to the left was a short hallway with a pair of shiny, steel elevators. Tinted windows filtered light into the modest sized entry and people could be seen calmly walking by, none the wiser about what was happening in the building.

The two security guards placed near each of the elevators eyed her and Mina nervously tore her gaze away from them. She hadn’t even thought about how tight security would probably be with who worked in the building. Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, she still couldn’t help the automatic straightening of her spine.

“Hello,” a feminine voice greeted and Mina jerked her head back to meet the gaze of the brunette woman at the reception counter. The woman gave her a polite smile, though the slight tightening of the skin around her eyes gave away her suspicion of the young girl. “How can I help you?”

Swallowing lightly, Mina gathered her nerves and made her way over to the counter. The overhead lights bounced off the glossy letters embedded on the white business card as she slapped it onto the countertop. The receptionist raised a curious eyebrow as Mina slid it towards her, green sharpie catching her gaze.

“Hi. I’m here for an audition.”