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#leaving a reply/comment on any other website feels like walking up to somebody and saying hello
numum · 1 year
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since twitter is busy shitting itself i guess i’ll have to start posting here more often bc if i’m not sufficiently annoying i’ll die
#numtalk#is my tag for text posts jsyk lol#in case I’m too annoying for ur tastes :T i guess :T#i wish tumblr would let you make certain tags into ‘tabs’ on ur blog like twitter’s media tab#ppl are so afraid to reblog things + make text posts and generally be social on here bc#it makes your blog look ‘messy’#bc they’re not used to the tagging system ig#but u Def will gain more followers if your blog looks ‘cleaner’ bc ppl aren’t always gonna click the tag links in ur desc#the more clicks ppl have to click to see your art#the less ppl are gonna see your art#so it would be nice if we could have a gallery tab/tabs dedicated to certain tags baked into the app#anyways I’m super bummed abt twitter. gaining a decent following over there has been achingly slow#and i JUST started doing rlly well and growing pretty rapidly#so that’s demotivating as hell lol#i really love tumblr though. i enjoy how interactive twitter is but tumblr is super interactive in its own way#like. you can’t really engage in reply chains like on twitter bc reblog chains are more intrusive and messy#twitter reply chains are nice bc they condense themselves and don’t clutter ur entire profile bc the media tab exists#but i get FAR more comments on my art than i ever have anywhere else simply bc of the tagging system#being able to leave comments that are super unobtrusive makes ppl feel way more inclined to comment#leaving a reply/comment on any other website feels like walking up to somebody and saying hello#but leaving comments in the tags feels more like talking to urself/whispering#so there’s less Pressure if that makes sense#ANYWAY#fuck elon musk#i’ll miss twitter a lot if it really goes down but I’ve been on tumblr for a literal decade#so i guess i’ll survive lol
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deepdarkdelights · 3 years
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Solar Eclipse (Hoseok x Reader)
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Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
Word Count: 16.9k
Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Devious Intentions, Talks about Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Dub Con, Forced Implants, Death, The Afterlife, Heights, Jumping from Heights
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview:  His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief.
This look on his face, although more genuine than anything else you had seen, was capable of sending your entire body into a panicked frenzy. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, no, begging you to run. The instincts that had been fostered in you from generations before were telling you this man was dangerous, and you were better off fleeing than sticking around to see what would happen. 
“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”
A/N: This was supposed to be 10k...how did we get here. This story was heavily inspired by Beautiful Accident and Wonderful Nightmare! Both amazing movies I recommend that never fail to get me in my feels. I hope you enjoy this wild ride! See you in the comments! 💜💜💜
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Your hands were hurting again.
The light from your computer screen was blaringly bright, causing you to momentarily cease your endless scrolling and remove your glasses from the bridge of your nose. You pressed your cool fingers against the warm flesh of your eyelids and tilted your head back against your seat, giving yourself a moment to relax. 
The once cacophonous tapping of another keyboard suddenly halted as your assistant leaned forward in her seat, sliding her laptop shut. 
“You okay, boss?” She asked, her brows pinched together in concern. “Is it a migraine again?”
You exhaled deeply through your nose as you flexed your fingers in an attempt to dispel the ache from them. You were far too young to already be experiencing so many aches and pains. 
“No, I’m just tired.” You admitted as you folded your glasses up and pushed them aside. 
“That’s because you work too much, honestly do you ever sleep? When was the last time you went home?” She chuckled in amusement.
“Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I’m faithful to my sleep number, I come home to him every night.” 
“Him? You refer to your mattress as him? Somebody hasn’t gotten laid in a while.” She snorted. 
“I could have you fired for that, that’s sexual harassment you know.” You shot back, amused yet annoyed she had hit a little too close to home. 
“Please, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you fired me.” She laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Before you could shoot back your response, an abrupt knock on the door stopped the both of you in your tracks. Without saying anything, she rose from her seat and began to cross the room. Knowing she would be able to handle it for you, you reclined deeper into your office chair and slipped your phone out of your desk drawer to sort through your endless amount of notifications. 
You didn’t look up as you heard the door click shut, two sets of footsteps approaching your mahogany desk. 
You could hear somebody clear their throat, their breaths coming out rapidly as if they were anxious. “Y-your coffee, miss.”
Without looking up you merely held out your hand, the warm cup slotting itself into your waiting fingers. You mumbled out a rough thanks as you continued to scroll through your phone, rolling your eyes at the amount of missed calls you had from your mother who, despite knowing your work schedule, persisted in calling you during your office hours. 
You could faintly hear your assistant walking the man to the door, whispering a soft, “Thank you, sweetie,” as the door clicked shut. 
“Really?!” She hissed, once she was sure the man was gone. “You didn’t even look at him!”
“Who? The coffee boy? I didn’t think it mattered.” You said with a shrug, taking a sip from your coffee.
“That wasn’t a coffee boy! That was your intern, jackass!”
“He’s just an intern, Jenny, he won’t be here for long. None of them last around here anyways.” 
Jenny sighed, flopping down into the seat across from you with a pout. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”
“Oh no, don’t you start one of your schemes again. I don’t have time for men and the last thing I need is for you to start playing cupid. And didn’t I tell you to stop hiring people just because they're attractive?”
“Sweetie, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you're not as young as you think you are. When are you going to settle down, huh? Find a husband, have some cute kids for me to dote on.” 
“Jesus, you’re starting to sound like my mother. I don’t have the time for marriage or for kids, not when I’m busy with this place.” You replied with a stiff tone, this was not the first time the two of you had this conversation. 
“I’m just saying you’re hot, rich, and a CEO, you could literally have any man you want.” She pointed out, the tips of her fingers pressing together in the shape of an arrow. 
“You literally just called me a Sugar Momma.” 
“I mean, they do have websites if you're interested…”
“Okay, you win, I’m leaving early. I can’t deal with your obnoxious ass anymore.” You said, standing up so quickly your chair shot back and turned on its wheels. 
“Jenny: 72, You: None.” Your assistant laughed, adding a point to her imaginary scoreboard.
“I was going to say call me if you need anything, but please don’t.” You chuckled, grabbing your blazer from the coat rack and sliding it around your shoulders before picking up your purse. 
“Don’t worry boss, I’ll hold down the fort.” She said, giving you a quick salute as she stood and began to gather her things. “Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”
You pressed your lips together tightly in an attempt to hide the hint of a smile on your mouth as she exited your office. She was the only person you talked to like that, you were a rather antisocial boss. You tended to come off as cold and callous to your employees, but in reality you just really didn’t like talking to others when it wasn’t necessary. It had taken four years for you and Jenny to become as close as you did, in fact she was the only person you could truly call your friend. 
You had grown up in an isolated world, one filled with tutors and home schooling as you were groomed to take over one of the branches of your family's business. You had siblings, but you rarely ever saw them. They too were consumed by their work and their families, in fact you were the youngest of them and couldn’t remember a time where all of you lived together in one household. There were four of you in total, you only saw each other at holidays and your parents annual Christmas gala. You were by no means close.
You had grown comfortable being alone and frigid. It was safe and it was efficient. 
Your entire life had been one of isolation, the only amount of warmth bleeding into the bleak monotone schemes of your world was Jenny. And the amount you had let in was minimal. 
It was better being alone, you told yourself. 
You adjusted your purse on your shoulder as your office door swung shut behind you. The building was still fairly active, everyone was in a rush to complete their work before the sun completely dipped below the horizon. That was something you enjoyed about your building. The walls were littered with floor to ceiling windows allowing the ochre tones of sunlight to bleed into the bright white and concrete interior, soft dappled light dancing over hard edges. 
You paused for a moment by the windows, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the warmth of the sun caress your face, its fleeting light still permeable through your closed eyelids creating a golden halo in your vision. You gave yourself two breaths worth of silence and stillness before your eyes snapped open once more and you hastily made your way to the elevator that would send you to your floor of the parking garage. 
You waited patiently for the elevator, one of your legs extended in front of you as you rolled your foot from side to side on the precarious talon of your red bottom heels. Once you heard the doors sliding open and the familiar ding of the elevator you raised your chin slowly, your eyes half lidded in boredom as you met the expressions of your employees. There were two of them inside the metal contraption, their eyes wide in alarm at the sight of you. You tilted your head slightly to the side, and like you had cracked a whip they scuttled out of the elevator and hurried past you without a word. 
You huffed in annoyance to yourself as you headed inside, you had no idea what their problem was and you pondered if there was any reason to write them up for their bizarre behavior. Perhaps not. 
The elevator hummed as it steadily dropped floors, the soft music effectively worsening your mood. You hated elevator music. 
As soon as the doors slid open you jetted out of them, your heels tapping noisily in the quiet garage. You slid your bag from your shoulder and busied yourself by trying to find your keys. You hissed to yourself as you tripped and almost went flying, multitasking and heels did not go together. You stopped for a moment, opening your bag wider as you tried to find the little ring of keys buried in the depths of your purse. 
The second your fingers brushed the cool metal you released an annoyed breath, throwing your purse back over your shoulder as you flicked through your key ring, grasping the fob that went to your car.
Despite having what you had previously been looking for, you did not move. Instead, you looked around warily, pivoting on your heels as you scanned the area around you.
You could have sworn you heard footsteps.
You waited silently for a few more moments, listening for signs that another person was there with you. 
You heard no other breaths, nor the sounds of approaching or retreating footsteps.
You weren’t going to wait around any longer just to find out you were wrong. 
You swiftly made your way to your VIP parking spot, unlocked the doors, and threw yourself into the car while making sure to lock the doors as soon as you were seated. 
Your mother had begged you for months to get a bodyguard. You were a young woman with lots of money and the heir to a massive enterprise. You should not be walking around as if you were a normal person. It was only now that you were beginning to think that your mother was right. 
Not wanting to dwell on dark thoughts any longer, you pushed your key into the ignition, and peeled out of the parking garage a little faster than normal. 
As your anxiety slowly drained from your body, you began to feel the effects of lack of sleep. Jenny was not wrong, you were considering the fact that maybe you had a touch of insomnia. Either that or you were simply a workaholic. Honestly, it could be both. 
You switched the radio on, picking a classic rock station and dialing the volume up to the point you could feel your leather seats vibrating beneath you with each clash of the drums emanating from the speakers. 
But even that was just barely doing its job. Your eyes were still stinging like they had been moments before at your desk. You were undeniably as exhausted as you were a safety hazard. You clenched the steering wheel harder, the flesh of your skin pulling tightly over your knuckles as you attempted to stay awake. It wasn’t that far of a ride, you could make it home. 
But that thought didn’t stop your eyelids from drooping shut, it was nearly impossible to keep them open, they were so heavy you were struggling to reopen them every time you blinked. 
Your eyes stayed closed much longer now than they had before, and upon opening them again a scream of shock bubbled up your throat. 
A flash of black fur shot across your narrow vision as you frantically spun the steering wheel and slammed on your breaks. A band of horns beeped behind and beside you as you swerved dramatically into the next lane.
Your car had been mere inches from swerving right in front of an eighteen wheeler. 
Your hand fluttered frantically against your chest, your heart pounding back against it in shock. 
You had almost died. 
You gathered yourself up before stomping down on the accelerator and speeding away, dodging the massive vehicle you had almost hit in the opposite lane. The shock of adrenaline you were experiencing from that frightening event was more than enough to keep you awake now. You only had one goal in mind and that was to make it home in one piece. 
The minute you slid back into your regular parking spot you allowed yourself to slump back into the driver's seat, blinking wildly as you recalled the sight of the headlights and the cacophony of car horns from moments prior. You really need to get your shit together. 
~~~~~~~
By the time you made it up to your apartment the exhaustion had returned full force. You toed off your shoes tiredly, stumbling over them with an annoyed grunt as you threw your purse down to the floor. You could really do without your sudden lack of coordination. 
Far too tired to even care, you immediately began stripping your clothes off at the front door. You carelessly threw your blazer aside and shimmied off your skirt as you began to walk, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you headed for your bedroom. The housekeeper would deal with it in the morning anyways, it didn’t matter where they ended up. 
Your pajamas from the previous night were waiting for you at the foot of your bed, folded up into a neat little pile contrasting greatly from your current care for your clothing. You happily sighed as you pulled the creamy, cashmere sweater over your head and stepped into a pair of silk sleep shorts. This was what you had been waiting for all day. 
That, and the bottle of Cheval Blanc tucked away in your liquor cabinet. 
You ran your fingers through your hair tiredly as you made your way to the kitchen, the sound of your bare feet patting against the floor echoed down the long, empty hallway. 
You wasted no time, eagerly pulling open your cabinet and retrieving the expensive bottle of wine along with a crystal glass. You eased the cork free from the bottle, allowing it to roll over your granite counter as you poured the wine into your glass, the liquor bubbling as you filled it to the very top. You were a guilty self medicator, that was for damn sure. 
You hurried back into your living room, wine glass in one hand and a small tray of macarons in the other. There was one thing you were certain of, you were definitely going to drink your fatigue away and indulge in your favorite cookies until you passed out on your couch. You deserved it, after all you were a CEO, an overworked one at that. 
So, there you sat, taking languid sips from your glass and delicate bites from your cookies as you began to catch up on a show you hadn’t had the time to watch in weeks. It was incredibly relaxing, the soft hum of the TV, the feeling of your favorite blanket wrapped around your bare legs, and the soft tapping of rain against your windows. You were set on not moving for the rest of the night. That was of course, until you had to pee.
You groaned in frustration at the thought of having to move, but the call of nature was much stronger than your will to remain sedentary. You leaned forward, setting your food and drink on the coffee table before you violently kicked your legs, fighting your blanket as you attempted to untangle yourself from it. 
The second your toes touched the lush carpet beneath you, a shock of lightning suddenly splintered it’s way through the sky, shards of light refracting through your windows and lighting up the dim room. The soft rumble of thunder followed soon after. 
You froze at the sight, the light rain still tapped against your windows, a dull contrast to the sudden shock of light you had witnessed.
But, what was even more unexpected, was the sight of dark fur and glowing jade eyes staring back at you. There was a cat sitting on your balcony. That should have been impossible, there was no possible way that cat could have made its way there, your building was pet free. 
The sight of its slick coat of black fur tugged at your heart strings. He must be so cold, stuck out in the rain like that. In fact, he looked almost exactly like your childhood cat you had loved to dearly growing up. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let him in, let him get dry and warm and fill his belly. 
With a new goal in mind you carefully made your way to your sliding glass door, not wanting to spook him too badly lest he jump. The drop would not be a survivable one. 
Despite your valiant efforts, the minute the door clicked and slid open he jumped up onto the fencing and rails that surrounded your balcony. 
“Hey, no, no, no, just stay right there, kitty.” You cooed gently, taking slow and careful steps in his direction. 
The cat fixed you with a penetrating gaze, his bright jade eyes trained on you, watching every step you made as his tail flicked from side to side behind him. 
“That’s a good boy, just stay right there.” You hummed, your hands held up in a show of no malintent as you carefully approached him. “Come on, I just want to help you.”
Just as you were within grabbing reach, your fingers mere inches from touching his silken fur, he lept away, settling on the ledge against the building. He was dangerously close to falling off, the distance from the ledge to the ground far enough to make your toes and fingers tingle. 
“Fuck.” You hissed. 
The cat remained there, his gaze still trained on you. Those bright eyes seemed to be beckoning for you to come and join him, to meet him up on the ledge. 
You quickly shook out your hands and feet as you stared back, your vision tunneling in on him. You could feel the cold air nipping at your bare flesh, goosebumps raising on the skin of your thighs. You could do it. 
You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts before grasping the metal railing and carefully lowering yourself over to the other side. You could feel the wind stronger now as it swirled around you, a flash of light overtaking the sky once more as a steady rumble of thunder bounced off of the surrounding buildings. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a sharp breath through your nose as you attempted to calm yourself. Just don’t look down, for the love of all that is holy do not look down.
You steadily rose up on to your toes, shimming your way over as you held on tightly to the railing. The sliver of stone beneath your toes was slick from rainfall, as was the metal of the railing beneath your tense fingers. The closer you got to the cat, the further away it seemed to be, either that was the truth or the reality of how high up you were was messing with your head.
The thought you had from earlier suddenly came rushing back to you, the drop wouldn’t be survivable. What a sobering thought. 
You had come to a point now where you wouldn’t be able to hold onto the railing anymore, not if you needed to be able to reach the cat. So, with a shaky breath you released your grip from the railing one hand at a time and quickly latched onto the stone architecture surrounding the windows. The only thing keeping you from falling was the tiny inches of stone beneath your arched feet, and the architecture you were desperately clinging to. 
You slowly turned your head, your gaze meeting the cat’s once more. It’s eyes were almost mesmerizing, there was something about it that was telling you that you needed to get him, that you just needed to pick him up and stay with him. You had no choice but to retrieve him, you felt like you would die if you had to leave him all alone on this ledge. His eyes were drawing you in, causing you to spiral downwards into their hypnotic depths. You needed him. 
He was not moving anymore, he was settled down on his back legs, his tail flicking out dangerously over the edge of the building. You were certain that you could reach him if you tried. 
You slowly lowered yourself into a crouch, releasing your one hand from the side of the building as you reached out, the other hand still holding onto the stone of the window. You leaned forward as calmly as you could, your arm burning from the stretch as you slid over slightly to grab the cat. 
This time the cat did not move away, it remained still, waiting for your touch. 
Both of your arms were completely spread out, your fingers just barely holding onto the building as you finally made it within grabbing distance. And then, it all fell apart.
As soon as your fingers brushed his midnight fur, he jerked away from your touch causing your feet to slip out from underneath you, and your weak hold to completely detach from the wall. 
And then you were falling.
A violent scream ripped its way free from your throat as you went airborne, the last thing you could see was the penetrating emerald glare of the midnight black cat as you plummeted towards the ground. 
No one would know that you had never intended to end your life when you stepped out onto that ledge.
Unwillingly, you had. 
~~~~~~~
You never felt the impact of the ground, and when you opened your eyes you did not find your body mangled or feel any pain. In fact you were no longer even in the city. 
You were already standing, and you were all alone. You turned frantically, spinning as you tried to find out where you were. There was nothing all around you, just cloudy skies, stretching fields of tall grass, old dilapidated fences, and a dusty road of dirt and rocks beneath your feet.
And then of course, there was the bus stop sign beside you. 
You approached the sign in curiosity. The closer you got the more you noticed how strange everything was. Despite there being stones beneath your feet you didn’t feel pain, and the environment wasn’t cold or hot, it was just neutral. And, it was extremely silent. Not a gust of wind blew, no crickets hummed, and there wasn’t a single chirp from a songbird. There was nothing. 
You leaned your upper body forward, looking from side to side for any signs of life. Both ways you could barely see anything, the field seemed to disappear into thick clouds of fog that were impermeable to your sight. 
You decided in that moment you were better off looking for signs of life than you were waiting for them to come find you. But, to your surprise, the second your foot touched down onto the dirt road a bus came rumbling down the road and screeched to a stop in front of you. 
The doors slid open and light flooded the space around you. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the exposure, your hand creating a visor on your forehead. 
“You getting on or what?” A voice called from inside the bus. 
“Me?” You asked pointing to yourself.
“Of course you, does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?” The voice huffed in annoyance. “I’m already running late. I'd prefer if you didn’t hold us up any longer.”
“Running late?” You whispered to yourself. “And where will you be taking me?” 
There was silence for a moment and then suddenly a raucous laughter that made you jump. “Where am I taking you?! That’s a good one. Come on, let's go.”
You blinked slowly in irritation, the last thing you needed was to be laughed at and dismissed like a child when you had serious questions that you needed answered. 
“Come on newbie! Today!” He yelled, causing you to jump in fright before scurrying onto the bus. 
Upon entering you were met face to face with the bus driver. He had fair skin and pitch black hair with an amused, gummy smile on his face. Apparently, he thought you were hilarious. He said nothing to you this time, he just merely jerked his head in the direction behind him, signaling for you to find a seat. 
Once you turned to face the passengers of the bus you realized it was far longer than it appeared from the outside, in fact it looked like it stretched farther beyond what you could see with copious amounts of passengers. 
The passengers themselves were of all sizes, races, and ages. You could see mothers holding infants and elderly couples cuddled up to one another. Some people seemed to know one another, others looked sad and lonely like the little boy a few seats back. 
You were incredibly confused. 
Unsure as to where you should sit, you finally decided on sitting next to the little boy. 
The second you sat down, you felt his gaze train on you and his little body shift closer to you. 
“Hi,” He whispered, his fingers curling around the fabric of your cashmere sweater and tugging, “My name is Minho.”
You have him a soft smile in return with a gentle whisper of your name. 
“Where’s your mommy, Minho?” You asked, curious as to why this little boy was all alone. 
“I’m going to meet her now.” He replied, with an excited smile, his legs kicking out energetically before he suddenly calmed down. “I wish daddy came with me.”
“Why didn’t your daddy come with you?” You asked, your eyebrows pinching together in confusion. 
“He said I had to go alone, he can’t come with me for a while. He said I’ll be happy with mommy, that I’ll feel better with her.” He said sadly, his lower lip pouting as he rubbed at his teary eyes. 
“You’ll feel better?”
“Mhm, I was sick for a long time. Daddy said it was time for me to see Mommy, he told me it was okay to go to sleep.”
Oh, oh no. Everything was suddenly starting to make sense. You quickly looked over your shoulder and caught sight of the elderly couple you had seen earlier. 
“Hey! You two! What were you doing before you got here?!”
The older man looked up at you with a kind smile as he continued to rub his wife’s shoulder. “We were driving down to visit our son, he was never too good about coming up to see us. Some bad weather hit, we couldn’t see out of the windshield very well. Next thing you know we’re rolling over the guard rail and down the side of the hill!”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
“You! Where were you?!” You yelled at the woman seated across from you. 
“Hm? I went in for surgery, what’s it to you?” She asked with an annoyed grimace on her face. 
“What’s it to me?!” You echoed with a hysterical laugh. You were fucking dead that’s what it was! All of you were!
Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles a minute as you tried to gather yourself, your heart beating frantically as a sick feeling settled in your stomach. You needed to get off the bus, you needed to get far away from all of these people. 
Without thinking you lurched to your feet and gripped the cord above your window, yanking it harshly to signal the bus to stop. 
The bus halted immediately, sending you stumbling forward into the back of the driver’s seat. The bus driver met your panicked face through the reflection of the mirror, a curious light to his pitch black irises. 
“So, we’ve got a challenger? I knew you’d be a stubborn one.” He sighed, hitting the button that sent the doors swishing open. “The guy in charge is out there, you can voice your complaints to him.”
You were far too shocked to vocalize anything, your feet just blindly leading you to the doors. You stopped for a moment, looking over your shoulder to get one quick look at Minho. His little legs were still kicking out in front of him.
“Bye miss!” He called with a little wave and a smile, spurring you off the bus with a quick wave in his direction.
Upon stepping foot off of the bus, you were faced with a dimly lit four way intersection that looked like it had been abandoned for years. You quickly headed towards the center of the road as you caught sight of a tall man waiting for you. 
His face was relaxed, a neutral expression taking over his features. He was dressed fairly well for a man standing in the middle of nowhere. You took notice of his crisp three piece suit and the high shine of his shoes. He was obviously someone who was important, if the bus driver had indicated anything by his statements.  
You didn’t waste any time to hurl your questions at him. “I’m dead aren’t I?! Who are you?! What is this place?!”
“Relax.” He commanded, his voice immediately sending a wave of calmness crashing down over you. 
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before reopening them and waiting in silence for his response. 
“My name is Namjoon, this is the crossroads.” He said, gesturing to the four intersecting roads surrounding you. 
“That is Life,” He said, pointing to the road behind you, “That is Punishment,” the road to his right, “That is Reward,” the road behind him, “And that is Retrial.” The road to his left. 
“Right, that’s fantastic, how do I go back down that road.” You blurted out, pointing to the road behind you.
“Normally, you don’t. But luckily for you, or not so luckily, there was an error made.”
“An error?” You asked. 
“Yes, one of our reapers made a mistake. You aren’t scheduled for processing for quite some time, someone by the same name, sixty years of age, was scheduled for processing today.”
A reaper? What reaper? You hadn’t exactly seen the classic skeletal face cloaked all in black with a scythe in hand had you? Your face screwed up in irritation as you flicked backwards through your memories from earlier that day, trying to remember if you had seen anything that remotely resembled a reaper. 
And then it hit you. 
“That fucking cat!” You screeched, spinning around as you dramatically yelled into the void around you. 
Namjoon winced his posture slightly wilting at your realization. “Yes, that was one of our newer reapers, Taehyung.”
“What kind of operation are you running here? Do I look like I’m sixty years old to you?” You yelled, the panic quelling up in your chest. “You’re going to fix this aren’t you?!”
“Of course! I take my job very seriously!” He shot back. “The only issue is, I can’t send you back to your life just yet.”
“And why not?!”
“Time is a very sensitive and precious thing, as a woman of business I am sure you understand. The other woman still needs to pass and be processed, the events that lead to her demise must be tailored perfectly and set up with the correct timing. Only then can you return, once she is passed with the correct timing the two of you will switch. You can live again and she can be sent down the proper road.” 
“And how long will that take?”
“A few weeks.” He replied vaguely, his body tensed as he waited for your response.
“Weeks?! And what will I do during that time? Do you expect me to follow you around everywhere?”
“Thankfully, no. In the time being, I will have to put you somewhere else, some other place and time. Are you willing to do that?”
“Yes, I’m more than willing. As long as I get my old life back, I don’t care what it takes. Just make it happen.”
“You will, in due time. But listen to me very carefully, you have to follow every aspect of this other life perfectly. You cannot act out of character, you have to act exactly as everyone expects you to. You cannot have contact with anyone from your previous life as well. Understand? If you can’t do that, then you can’t go back.”
You swallowed harshly, a sense of anxiety creeping up inside of you. You had no choice but to accept, your life and had been wrongfully ended far too soon. If that meant doing whatever Namjoon asked of you, you would do it. 
You gave him a swift nod, your hand clenching up into fists.
“Perfect, I’ll have Taehyung escort you down that way.” Namjoon replied, pointing down at the road to his left, Retrial.
Upon hearing his name, Taehyung appeared. He was tall, with honey skin, midnight black curly hair, and bright green eyes. 
The fucking cat. 
Taehyung met you with a sheepish grin and an embarrassed wave, hesitantly coming to your side. He looked nothing like the reaper you had been anticipating. If anything he was a sad excuse for a reaper with the bashful attitude he was presenting you with. 
“Did you really have to use the appearance of my childhood pet to kill me?” You asked, your voice dripping with venom as you crossed your arms over your chest, your bare foot tapping in annoyance. You weren’t exactly the picture of intimidation you normally were.
“I’m sorry.” He replied softly, bowing his head forward in an apologetic manner still refusing to meet your burning gaze.
“I’ll be checking in with you every now and then, please, try to play along with this life.” Namjoon begged, a serious expression evident on his face. Not only did he appear serious, but you could tell he  was also stressed. The fuck up Taehyung had made was evidently a big one. 
“I’ll try my best.” You replied, you knew you had to, or else there was no going back. 
Namjoon gave Taehyung a quick nod, and with that gesture Taehyung grabbed hold of your hand and began to lead you down Retrial. From your perspective, each road was identical, this one too was dusty and littered with stones leading into a seemingly never ending fog. 
The reaper beside you was quiet, his gaze pinned ahead as he focused on his task, leading you down the path of Retrial. 
If only you had known how much of a trial this life truly would be. 
~~~~~~~
You were boiling hot. 
You could feel a mattress beneath your back, one that was far softer than you normally liked. Your body was swaddled with thick blankets and sheets that were sticking to your sweaty skin. You groaned in irritation at the feeling and attempted to bat away the blanket and turn onto your side. 
A sudden grunt behind you had your heart stuttering to a stop, your entire body frozen as you came to the realization that that was not a blanket you had just smacked, but somebody's arm wrapped around your waist. 
Slowly, you turned onto your side to see who was in your bed. The moment you flipped your body over you were met with deep brown eyes that were just barely open and the sight of a lazy smile as your body was suddenly dragged forward and pressed tightly against the strangers. 
A sharp scream bubbled up past your lips as you threw yourself backwards, smacking the man’s hand away from your body as you fumbled out of the bed. In your haste your foot was caught in the mess of blankets, sending you tumbling backwards off of the bed, spurring another cry from your mouth. 
“Baby?” A voice called, it was raspy and deep from just waking and wrought with concern. 
You quickly yanked the sheets off of your sprawled out form and ushered yourself to stand on shaky legs. The man in the bed was propped up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down off of his chest to settle and pool at his waist. He was absolutely shirtless, revealing a stretch of honey skin and a toned abdomen. 
Holy shit, what the fuck was going on?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, this time he appeared to be more alert, all signs of sleepiness dissipating from his body. 
Worried from your lack of response, he rushed to stand up, the blankets falling away to reveal he was clad in boxers. 
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? It had to be illegal to have thighs like that, right?
“Stay right there!” You yelled, throwing your hand up in fear as he ignored your command and quickly began to approach you. The closer he got the more steps you took backwards, tripping over stray clothes on the floor until the wall at your back stopped you from retreating any further. 
The man, clearly ignoring your pleas to be left alone, walked right up to you. He was so close that his bare chest was pressed up against you effectively sandwiching you between him and the wall as heat flooded your cheeks. His hands fluttered around you worriedly, checking you for any signs of injury before he rested his hand on your forehead checking for a temperature. 
“Are you sick, hunny? You’re acting...off?” He asked, petting your hair in anxiety as he tried to meet your gaze. 
“Don’t touch me.” You finally said, brushing his hands off of you once more as you attempted to slip away from him. 
“Why are you acting like this?” He asked, obviously confused before a sudden smile overtook his features. He had a sweet smile, one that made his entire face light up in joy. “It reminds me how you used to act around me all those years ago. Are you trying to get me going this early? We really shouldn’t, you know, I have to be at work soon.”
Holy fuck, what kind of person are you now? 
The man in front of you pulled you out of your stupor at the feeling of his hand on your jaw as he leaned down to your height. 
Realizing what his intentions were, you let out another scream of fright and shoved him away, darting for the bedroom door. As soon as your hand gripped the doorknob you ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind you. 
You leaned your head back against the wall as you rested, you hand over your heart, taking shallow breaths as you attempted to collect yourself. 
That didn’t exactly go as planned.
With your eyes closed you didn’t see the incoming form running up to you until it collided with your legs, winding around you tightly in excitement. 
“Mommy!” A little voice cried. 
Your eyes snapped open in surprise as you looked down at the little child wrapped around your legs. Despite his small and non threatening form, you couldn’t stop the scream of fright that escaped you as you unlatched him from your legs and raced to the first open door you saw, yanking it closed behind you and twisting the lock shut. 
You were in the bathroom. Finally, a place where you could gather yourself. You stood at the sink, resting your forearms on the counter and your head in your hands as you breathed in sharply through your nose. You needed to get your shit together and stop panicking. 
You couldn’t help but feel cheated, panicked, and pissed all at once. Not only had you died, made a deal with some crossroads entity, but now the life you had been plopped in for the time being was the complete opposite of your previous one and you had not a single clue as to how to navigate it. 
You let out a few more huffs before standing back up and raking your fingers through your hair. A sudden sparkle of light caught your attention, causing you to pull your left hand free from your hair. There was an engagement ring and a wedding band on your left ring finger. You hissed at the sight of it, your entire body shuddering. 
You were married and a mother. 
“Are you fucking serious, Namjoon?!” You whispered to yourself in the bathroom, knocking your head back against the wall three times in frustration. Jenny would be having a field day if she knew about this. 
Jenny. 
You wondered what her reaction was, when she heard that you had flung yourself from your balcony. You wondered if she blamed herself for sending you home early even though it wasn’t her fault. You wished you could tell her you hadn’t done that to yourself, that it wasn’t her fault. You just hoped that she was okay and that she wasn’t crying over you. 
You could get through this, you had no other choice. It was time to get your shit together. 
You straightened your spine and shook out your hands with a deep breath before you unlocked the door and swung it open. Standing outside the door was your “son.” He was practically the spitting image of your “husband” who had yet to leave the bedroom. He was staring up at you, with big brown eyes, as he raised his arms up and clenched his hands in a grabbing motion. 
You knew what that meant. You plastered on a forced smile as you bent down and picked up the small boy before settling him on your hip. He easily nestled his head into the crook of your neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in your warmth. 
At least he was cute, you could manage that.  
You curled your arm securely around his back as you walked into the kitchen, your bare feet padded dully against the cool tile of the floor. 
“Are you hungry?” You softly asked the little boy. You could feel him nod into your shoulder slowly, his fingers curling around the collar of your sleep shirt. 
You carefully unhooked him from your clothes and gently set him down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He whined in refusal, reaching out for you once more before becoming distracted by a coloring book that had been left at the table. 
Unsure as to what exactly you should make for the young boy, you searched the kitchen cabinets before settling on toast. Simple and easy. As the bread sat toasting, you decided to investigate the new environment you had been put in. 
You could tell you were still in the city, just a different section of it. You could see the towering skyscrapers through the windows of the apartment. This apartment was definitely not your own. For one, it was much smaller with a completely different layout. And, it looked to be in disorder with toys scattered everywhere in the living space. It certainly was not to your standards, but you could manage it for a few weeks as Namjoon had instructed. All you had to do was follow this life perfectly, and it couldn’t be that hard. Right?
You pulled yourself away from the windows, the drop off sending a familiar shiver down your spine, and rushed back into the kitchen to finish up the breakfast for the boy coloring away furiously at his book. 
Once you had the plate situated in front of him, you caught sight of a wallet on the opposite side of the table. Without hesitation you rounded the table and snatched it up, rifling through the items inside until you caught sight of what you were looking for. An ID. 
“Jung Hoseok.” You mumbled, the name tingling on your lips and echoing in your mind. So, this was your temporary husband. 
“What are you doing?” A voice asked from behind you causing you to jump in fright. 
You pivoted on your heels to face the man, your husband, Hoseok. Despite the fear his voice evoked in your body, he was presenting you with a blinding smile. One that sent chills throughout your body for reasons that were unknown to you. 
“Hoseok?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. 
“Hoseok?” He chuckled, “What did I do, am I in trouble? What happened to Hobi or hunny?” 
Well shit, you were already fucking things up weren’t you?
“You know if you need anything you can always ask me, baby. No need to go sneaking around.” He said, his smile still pinned to his cheeks as he struck you with a penetrating gaze.
He said nothing for a moment, he just stared at you with that smile in absolute silence. It was so quiet you could hear the blood pulsing through your ears and the soft ticking of the clock in the corner of the room as you tried to avoid his gaze. Despite the high position you once held in your previous life, you had never been very good with eye contact. He was really testing you today. 
He remained quiet as he grabbed the wallet from your hand and slipped it into his pants pocket before straightening his jacket out. 
“Jihoon, you’re going to be late for school. Go get ready.” Hoseok said, his voice and face still appearing cheerful as the little boy shuffled out of his chair and darted down the hallway to his bedroom. 
You didn’t know why, but you were struck with the feeling that something was very wrong here. 
You remained motionless as Hoseok raised his hand, cupping the side of your face rather gently, much softer than you originally expected. 
“You’ll be good for me while I’m gone, won’t you baby?” He whispered, his lips lightly brushing your cheekbone as his fingers gently swiped over the smooth skin of your cheek. 
You said nothing, you merely nodded in agreement so that he would finally release you and leave you alone to process what you had gotten yourself into. 
Without warning, he pressed his lips to your own in a hard kiss spurring a cry of surprise from you. You attempted to pull away from him only to find his hand at your back, keeping you pressed close to him as he sighed against your mouth, a shudder shaking through his body. His grip was becoming stronger, borderline bruising the more you squirmed against him as he tongue swiped over the flesh of your lower lip. 
“Ew! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled as he reentered the room, fully dressed for school with his little backpack slung over his small shoulders.
Hoseok pulled away from you with a laugh, allowing you to stumble away from your supposed husband, your hand cupping your mouth. You took back whatever you had thought about Jihoon before, he was your saving grace. 
“Sorry buddy, Daddy just loves Mommy so much!” Hoseok said, his voice full of glee as he gave his son a quick hug before standing up again. “I’ll see you after work.”
Hoseok headed to the door, stopping for a moment to look you over one last time. “I’ll be seeing you later as well.” He said with a wink before exiting the apartment.
Thank fuck he was gone. 
Jihoon quickly approached the now closed door, sliding his shoes on and reaching for the door knob. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you watched the young boy open the door.
“School?” He asked slowly, his little brows furrowed in confusion. 
“By yourself? No, give me a minute to get dressed. I'll walk you to the bus.”
“Mommy, you can’t!” He cried, causing you to come to a stop. 
“I can’t? And why not?” 
“Because, you never do.” He replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
What kind of mother was this person? She didn’t even walk her own kid to the bus to make sure he didn’t get kidnapped? Jihoon was so young, he couldn’t have been older than six by the looks of him. He was practically still a baby. 
“Well I am now, wait right there Jihoon.”
You were still dressed in the baggy T-shirt you had woken in, the fabric rumpled and hanging loosely over your shoulders revealed a fraction of your collarbone. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was Hoseok’s shirt. You hissed in annoyance and ripped the shirt from your body, filing it into a corner of the bedroom. 
The closet was filled to the brim with clothes, both yours and your “husband’s.” You swept the various suits and shirts aside until you stopped at your own clothes. You found it strange the amount of formal attire Hoseok possessed and your lack of it. Your side of the closet was filled with comfortable clothes, the only “formal” attire you owned was a wedding dress tucked all the way in the back of the closet and stored away in a plastic case. 
You sighed in frustration, settling on a pair of leggings and a large hoodie. One that was, presumably, your husbands as well. Did this woman have no desire to take pride in her appearance? Apparently not. 
“Come on, Jihoon!” You called with a clap of your hands as you made your way to the front door where he waited, his small hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack. 
Jihoon didn’t say anything in response, he merely held up his hand and slipped it into your own. He was a cute kid, a perfect reflection of Hoseok, but eerily enough you could see your own features reflected in him. 
You released a deep breath through your nose, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. You needed to focus on getting him to school for now. 
The door clicked shut behind you as the two of you began making your way out of the building. The weather was still warm, not that much different from what it had been in your past life. It was nice, being able to take in the fresh air for a moment and be able to process what exactly you were going through. 
Jihoon had taken the initiative for the both of you, considering you had no idea where the bus picked him up for school everyday. His hand was still clutched in your own, his arm outstretched as he walked quickly in front of you. He was talking a million miles per minute, the most random things leaving his mouth. And, just when he was about to get to the point, he would find something new to distract himself. 
“Oh, Mommy! Look at that butterfly!” He was painfully cute. 
“Oh, it’s very...pretty.” You said, unsurely. At first glance, the creature was beautiful. It’s wings wide yet delicate, painted with bright colors like paint splatters on a fresh canvas. But, it had a large chunk missing from it’s right wing. The injured wing fluttered every now and then with the gentle breeze. The poor thing was trapped in the flower bed it was lying in, it would never be able to fly again. 
You were pulled from your reverie as Jihoon tugged on your arm sharply. He beckoned you to lower yourself down to his height. As soon as you had settled down on your haunches he threw himself against you in a tight hug, squeezing you twice for good measure. 
“Bye Mommy, I love you!” He yelled before pressing a kiss to your cheek and turning on his heels, darting towards the school bus. 
You stayed there for a moment, your hand frozen on the spot he had left a kiss. So, that was what it was like to have a family. To have someone love you. You had never had that before. 
You rose back up to your feet, taking a moment to gather yourself back up again. You could see there was a park nearby, and getting yourself over there seemed like a good enough idea. You didn’t want to go back to the apartment just yet, you still had no idea what you were supposed to do. You didn’t like the thought of just waiting at “home” for Jihoon, or worse, Hoseok to come back. 
Jihoon was easy, predictable. But Hoseok, he was uncharted territory. A raging sea you didn’t know how to navigate. 
Damn you and your incapability to foster stable relationships. 
It was only day one of this temporary life and you were completely out of your depth. A husband? A son? A stay at home mom? You had and were none of these things, but now you had every single one of them. Whether you wanted them or not. Namjoon gave you orders, and if you wanted to survive, you had no choice but to follow them. You had to play along.
You walked slowly, tiredly, through the park. The tips of your sneakers were dragging against the ground, kicking loose stones off to the side. A few weeks he had told you, just how long exactly was that? 
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps approaching rapidly. It was the feeling of fingers gripping your shoulders and violently spinning you around that finally caught your attention, a cry of shock escaping you. 
“What are you doing?!” A voice cried, their hands shaking you to garner your attention. 
The sun that had blinded you finally lightened as it slipped behind a thick cover of clouds, disappearing out of sight. You could see now, and the man that was holding you so tightly was none other than Hoseok. 
“H-Hoseok?” You stuttered, your hands gripping his wrists as he ceased to lessen his hold on you. What was he doing here? He had left for work no longer than half an hour ago. 
“Did you hear me? I said, what are you doing?!”
“I’m going on a walk? I just dropped Jihoon off at the bus.” 
“You did what?!” He yelled, his face stricken with panic and a deep, hidden anger. His hold on you was only becoming stronger, near bruising as he shook you once more. 
“Hoseok! Stop it, you’re hurting me!” You yelled, taking a step back from him. 
That seemed to do the trick, his voice quieted and his hold became much lighter than before. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like you had just committed a crime. 
His eyes slipped closed as he took a deep, calming breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Baby, you don’t leave the apartment. You know this, we’ve been over this.”
“What?” You asked, utterly confused. 
This seemed to shock Hoseok, his brows raising and his eyes widening. The both of you were standing there, a gap between the two of you as you stared at one another with equal states of confusion. You not knowing what he meant, and him wondering if you were experiencing some sort of memory loss. 
“Come on, I’m taking you home, you need rest.” He finally said with a gentle smile, he was firmly set on the idea that you must be sick from how strange you were acting. 
You didn’t trust him or that fake smile he was giving you. Something was going on here, and it was terribly wrong.
“No.” You said firmly, taking a step backward when he tried to grab hold of you again. 
His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief. 
“What did you say?” He asked you, slowly. 
“I said, no.” You spat back, your voice sharp and firm despite the tingles of fear and anxiety creeping through every muscle in your body. 
This look on his face, although more genuine than anything else you had seen, was capable of sending your entire body into a panicked frenzy. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, no, begging you to run. The instincts that had been fostered in you from generations before were telling you this man was dangerous, and you were better off fleeing than sticking around to see what would happen. 
“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Hoseok.”
That did it. As soon as he took one step in your direction, you spun around and booked it like a track star. You paid no mind to where you were going, not caring who you had to shove aside to clear a path for you to get away. You were trusting your gut, and it was screaming at you to get as far away as possible. You could hear Hoseok behind you, yelling your name and telling you to come back, but you paid him no mind. You just knew that this was your one and only chance to get away from him before you lost it. 
Everything he had said and done had raised red flags in your mind, the way he talked to you and touched you, it was all wrong. It was possessive and dark, whether he intended it to be or not. 
What husband doesn’t allow their wife to leave their home? What father lets their six year old child walk themselves to school? What caring man demands you obey his every will? There was something wrong. 
You couldn’t hear Hoseok behind you anymore, the crowd had thickened substantially the further away you got from the park and the deeper into the city you were. People were staring at you strangely as you shoved through the crowds, grunting in annoyance as you squeezed yourself through them. 
The crosswalk was fairly empty, you could make it through and keep going, you had no time to stop and question how far away Hoseok was. So, you broke through the final band of people and began to sprint through the road, despite the sudden cries and warnings that were being shouted behind you. 
Fuck, there was a reason the crosswalk was empty, wasn’t there?
You turned your head to the side as you ran, only to come face to face with an oncoming car, coming in so fast you knew it wouldn’t be able to stop. No matter what you did, it was going to hit you. You threw your arms up in front of your face, blinding yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut and prepared yourself for the impact.
But it never came. 
“Day one and you’re already fucking things up, aren’t you?” 
The sounds of the city had fallen silent, there were no more car horns, no people talking, nothing. It was dead quiet. You slowly peeled your arms away from your face and opened your eyes.
Namjoon was there, still dressed in that three piece suit of his as he leaned up against the hood of the car that had almost hit you. He looked beyond pissed with you. You looked around, taking notice of your environment. There were people still looking at you, their faces frozen in shock and horror. There was a bird above you, it’s body frozen in midair with its wings spread wide open. And there was a little girl on the corner of the street, her popsicle stuck freefalling a foot above the ground. 
Time had been suspended.
“Namjoon! You don’t understand, this life you put me in, I can’t do it! I’m not a wife or a mother, I can’t do it! And my husband? There’s something wrong with him, I don’t know what but he isn’t right in the head.”
Namjoon rolled his head back, a sharp sigh leaving his lips before he righted himself and pressed his fingers to his temples. 
“You need to go back.” He simply said, his frustration evident.
“I just told you I can’t -”
“It’s either you go back to him and play house for a few fucking weeks, or I take you back to the crossroads and process you!” He snapped. 
You jumped in surprise at the sudden intensity of his voice. When you had first met Namjoon he was calm, collected, even a little embarrassed at the mess up that had occurred. Now, he was frustrated. 
“I told you before, you need to follow this life perfectly, you cannot let anyone know that anything is amiss. That means you need to be Jihoon’s mother and Hoseok’s wife. Whether you like it or not, that’s reality. So, you need to decide right now what you are going to do. Are you going to grin and bear it for a few measly weeks, or are we both leaving right now?”
You remained quiet for a moment. You already knew what your answer was going to be before you even opened your mouth. You needed to stop panicking and start thinking efficiently. What was a few weeks of unease and fear in comparison to years of your life you would gain in return. It was a good investment. 
“I’ll do it.” You finally said. 
“Good,” Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief as he popped off the hood of the car, “No more fuck ups, for my sake and yours.”
And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air. 
The world was moving around you again, and you were no longer standing on the crosswalk but instead in the middle of the sidewalk as the crowd of people that were previously waiting to cross the road dissipated and made their way to the other side.
And then, those same hands were on you again, but this time they pulled you into a warm chest, crushing you like a boa constrictor in a desperate hug. 
“You scared the shit out of me!” Hoseok cried, his hand settling on the back of your neck as he pulled your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. 
How ironic, you had scared him. 
~~~~~~~
Hoseok hadn’t even taken the risk of walking you back home, instead he flagged down a taxi and ushered the both of you into the back seat. The ride was spent in silence between the two of you. You sat there, the side of your head pressed against the window as you listened to the music from the radio and the feeling of Hoseok’s hand on your thigh keeping you immobile. 
You allowed him to grip your wrist when the cab arrived outside your apartment and when he dragged you back inside. It seemed so much darker now after you had been outside. You really didn’t want to be trapped in that small apartment with just you and him and no Jihoon to protect you. 
His hold didn’t lighten until he had dragged you into the bedroom you had woken up in the morning. It was then that he pressed his hand against your shoulders and shoved you backwards on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you as you began to flail your limbs wildly in surprise. 
“Calm down, hunny.” He cooed, a genuine, sadistic smile on his face now. All the other smiles before had been so fake now that you had seen this one. This one was beyond thrilled. 
You flinched as you felt cold metal encircle your wrist and snap shut. He had you handcuffed to the bed, there was no running away now that was for sure.
Your heart was thumping frantically in your chest, your limbs shaking as the adrenaline that had once faded was flooding through you again. Your instincts had been dead on accurate, you should have kept running when you had the chance.
“Baby, baby, baby,” He laughed, tilting his head to the side as his eyes shone with glee. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I thought you were gone.”
You were shaking beneath him as his eyes traced over every inch on your body, his fingers playing with the loose strands of your hair. 
“You’ve been acting so different today, almost like how you were when we first met all those years ago.” He hummed, his face pressing closer to yours as he lightly brushed his lips down the side of your cheek before stopping to press a kiss at the curve of your jaw. 
You flinched to the side in discomfort, spurring a delighted giggle from his lips. 
“As fun as it is to have you like this again, that doesn’t mean I can let your bad behavior go unpunished. You left without my permission and you said no to me, I can’t have that baby, I just can’t.” He sighed, the puff of air against your flesh spurring goosebumps to rise in response. 
“So, be a good little girl for me, and don’t move.” He instructed, pressing a lazy kiss to the bared column of your throat.
“You’re in timeout, a couple hours to yourself should help you think long and hard about what you did today.” He laughed, pulling himself off of you and retreating towards the bedroom door. 
“I’d think of a good way to apologize to me if I were you.”
And then he was gone. Once the door shut you could feel your heartbeat steadily falling and returning to normal. “Play house,” Namjoon had said, “Grin and bear it,” he told you. You weren’t so sure if those sentiments applied to your situation anymore. 
It was confirmed, you were married to a sadistic sociopath. 
Hoseok had left you chained to the bed for hours on end like the asshole that he was. You were rightfully scared of him, like you had previously thought, he was unpredictable. One moment he was kind and gentle and the next he was angry and after that he was filled with a corrosive glee.
How were you supposed to make it through the next few weeks like this? It was impossible. 
All you could do was lay there, stewing in anxiety as you were drowning in your never ending stream of thoughts about your fate at the hands of your so-called husband. 
By the time you heard the front door unlocking the sunlight had completely shifted in the room. The light was now entering at a different angle casting long, dark shadows over the room. It looked like the light was being chased away by the tendrils of darkness curling at its soft edges. 
You could hear a loud thud coming from the main room and the sound of little footsteps approaching the bedroom quickly. 
“Mommy!” A voice called before the door was shoved open. Jihoon. “Found you!” He giggled, kicking his shoes off before scrambling up the side of the bed and crawling over to you on all fours. 
Jihoon seemed undeterred by the sight of your wrist bound to the headboard behind you as he curled up against your side, his head resting on your shoulder as he wrapped his small arms around you. A chill traced its way up your spine, this wasn’t the first time he had seen his mother like this. No, this was common for him. 
Jihoon was already prattling endlessly about his day, much like he had on the way to the school bus that morning. His chatter suddenly came to a stop as he ran out of things to say, instead he let out a little hum and asked you: “Daddy put you in time out?”
“Yeah, Jihoon, Mommy’s in time out.” You replied, your jaw clenched and your eyes pressed shut. 
“I told you, you can’t leave. Daddy always finds you.” He said, nodding his head in agreement with himself as he began to play with your hair.
Your eyes snapped open, you head turning to the side to look at Jihoon. That definitely meant something, didn’t it? In fact, how had Hoseok found you at the park in the first place? Or on the sidewalk you had run to?
“Jihoon...how does Daddy find Mommy?” You asked him.
Jihoon continued to play with your hair, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration as he twisted and knotted your hair in a sloppy braid. “Your boo boo.”
“My boo boo?” 
Jihoon stopped his shaky braiding for a moment, meeting your eyes as he grabbed your free hand and led it to the back of your neck. That was when you felt it. 
Right there, at the nape of your neck, was a small bump beneath the flesh. You smoothed your finger over it a few more times in disbelief, making sure that what you were feeling was actually real. 
He had microchipped you, like a dog. 
A pit settled itself into your stomach as the reality of your situation finally hit you. The life you had been injected in was far more dark and twisted than you had first thought. This went beyond overprotectiveness and time outs, this was a clear show of obsession and possessiveness. In Hoseok’s eyes, you belonged to him. 
And, upon having that realization, your husband returned home from work. 
The bedroom door had been left wide open, giving you a clear view of Hoseok entering the apartment as he shimmied his jacket off of his shoulders and loosened his tie. Your arm curled around Jihoon tighter, pressing him even closer to your side like he was a life preserver, the only thing keeping you from being dragged down into the dark trenches of the sea. He felt safe to you. 
The minute Hoseok looked up and caught sight of the two of you, the bleak and tired look that adorned his features drifted away and was replaced by that same fake smile, the one that never reached his eyes but lit up his entire face. 
“There’s my two most favorite people in the world!” He called, pulling a laugh from Jihoon who raised his arms up in a gesture suggesting he wanted Hoseok to hold him. 
Traitor. 
Hoseok bounded into the room, lifting Jihoon up from underneath his arms and spinning him around before settling himself on the bed beside you with Jihoon on his chest, excited giggles shaking his entire body. 
It startled you how normal this would have looked from the outside, minus your hand being cuffed. To anyone else it could have looked like any other family spending time together after a long day. A stay at home mother with her busy husband and their young son. Oh, how far that was from the truth. 
“You hungry, buddy?” Hoseok asked, tickling his son's sides. “How about take out tonight?”
“Yeah!” Jihoon agreed enthusiastically. 
“What do you think, Mommy?” Hoseok asked you, pivoting his head to the side, his dark eyes fixing you to your spot. 
Play along. 
“That sounds good.” You nodded, attempting to do some damage control from your actions earlier that day. 
“Good answer baby,” Hoseok smiled, popping Jihoon off of him as he slid over to you, fishing the keys to the handcuffs out of his back pocket. His thumb gently stroked the reddened flesh of your bound wrist before freeing it. He held your wrist in his hand for a moment before pressing a long kiss to the irritated flesh. 
“Behave.” He whispered into your skin, looking up at you through half lidded eyes before he flipped his switch again and bounced off of the bed in glee. “C’mon Jihoon, you can pick where we order from!”
~~~~~~~
The air had been thick with tension for the rest of the night, unbeknownst to Jihoon who was too excited to be with both of his parents to realize that there was anything wrong. 
Jihoon had become a buffer between you and Hoseok, the little boy seating himself between the two of you on the couch with his food in hand while his legs kicked back and forth excitedly. A little hum of happiness left him with each bite of his food, completely oblivious to the dark look Hoseok was sending you over his head. 
You had somehow managed to equally piss him off and excite him all in one day. You were scared of what it would be like when Jihoon had to inevitably go to bed, he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore. 
There were few things you had been scared of in your previous life, and they were normal things for a person of your stature. You had been scared of being mugged, being kidnapped for ransom, having someone break into your apartment, or becoming a disappointment to your family. 
Most of those things could have been remedied with a bodyguard. Never in your entire life did you ever think you would come to rely on a six year old boy, your “son,” to be your protection.  It was strange how much could change, all in the course of one night, one mistake. 
Once again, you had found yourself cradling Jihoon to your side, his body relaxing under your touch as he snuggled up against you. He gently guided your hand away from your lap, and onto his head, a sign that he wanted you to play with the short strands of hair. 
You pulled your hands away from your legs and allowed your son to lay his head down as you softly stroked his hair in a calming, soothing motion. The light of the television was flickering, casting a blue glow onto his young features. His eyes had fluttered shut, his long lashes casting smooth shadows against the skin beneath his eyes. His breath was coming out slower now beneath your touch, the rise and fall of his chest becoming slower and deeper than before. 
Jenny had been right about one thing, you would have had cute children. When you went back, a part of you was certain that you would miss Jihoon. Your little protector. 
You jolted at Hoseok’s unexpected touch, his arm sliding behind your shoulders as he moved closer to you on the couch. An annoyed whine sounded from Jihoon at the sudden motion causing him to press his face against your legs in an attempt to escape whatever was disrupting his sleep. 
Hoseok leaned closer, his warmth seeping into your side. He joined your hand on Jihoon’s head, lightly smoothing over his hair before speaking. “I think it’s time for bed, little man.”
“Noooo!” Jihoon whined, “I wanna stay with Mommy.” 
“Not tonight, buddy. You need to be a big boy and sleep in your own bed.”
“I don’t wanna!” He cried. 
Sensing an impending tantrum, Hoseok scooped Jihoon up into his arms and cradled him to his chest. He started rubbing his back in slow motions, bouncing lightly with each step that he took. Miraculously, you could see Jihoon’s eyes begin to droop shut, his fatigue returning in full blast. 
Your parents never did that for you. 
You watched as Hoseok retreated into Jihoon’s room, presumably to get him ready for bed.
Shit, your bodyguard was falling asleep. 
Your body moved before you could think, flinging itself from the couch and sprinting for the bedroom. You couldn’t think of what to do, you knew that as soon as Hoseok was done with Jihoon he was going to come after you and you didn’t know what to expect. So, you did what any other grown woman would do. 
You hid under the covers. 
Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, the sound echoing through your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut in fright. All you could do what lay there and wait for him, you were doing nothing but delaying the inevitable. 
When you heard his footsteps rounding the corner you tried to slow your breathing, forcing your chest to rise and fall slower to make it seem like you had fallen asleep. If he bought it, then maybe he would leave you alone. 
Unlikely. 
He did the exact opposite. You could hear him close the door behind him, shuffling around the room as he got ready for bed. Your breath hitched in your throat as the lights flickered off, and the mattress dipped beside you from his weight. 
It was dead silent in that pitch black room, the only sounds you could hear were the ringing in your ears, your breaths, and his. 
You flinched in surprise when he latched onto you, dragging you backwards into the warmth of his bare chest. 
You tried your best to remain calm, to breathe lightly, and to not move. But Hoseok was no idiot, and you were daft if you thought you could fool him. 
“I know you’re awake.” He whispered, his nose pressing against your hair as he took in a deep breath, sending a sharp chill down your spine. 
He remained quiet for a moment, his arms wrapping tighter around your body. The feeling was the same as if a boa constrictor was curling around you. Slowly increasing the pressure, tightening its grasp in an attempt to squeeze the life out of you. Slow, calculating, and intimate. 
The arm that had looped around your middle lightly drew backwards, allowing his hand to slide beneath your shirt and rest on the bare skin of your waist. 
“I think I know a way you can make it up to me.” He mumbled with his lips pressed against your throat. 
His palm smoothed over the skin of your lower abdomen, just above the hem of your underwear as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, lips and tongue tracing over the bared flesh. Like a little lamb you had found yourself caught in the jaws of the predator, one snap away from the clutches of death. 
You remained frozen from a blend of shock and fear, all sense of fight or flight leaving you and rendering you immobile. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to move, to pull away, to throw yourself off of the bed. But your muscles were tense, frozen in a state of pure anxiety and fear, you knew nothing more than the thought of keeping still like a rabbit in the face of danger. 
He moved to the side, dragging you onto your back so he could settle himself on top of you. He braced himself with his arms on either side of you, caging you in with no room to escape. He gave you no warning of what he was thinking of doing, he merely swooped down and pressed his lips to your own. 
A muffled squeak rattled in your chest, your heart suddenly thudding louder than before like an alarm sounding to wake you up. Your hands moved first, sliding onto his chest and barely applying any force, struggling to push him back. His skin was warm and smooth against your palms, an alluring honey shade that you would have been enamored by like you had been that morning, had you not been exposed to his true nature. 
“Hoseok.” You said, finally breaking free of his kiss. 
Your call of his name had the exact opposite effect of what you had hoped. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he pressed his hips against yours, effectively pinning you to the mattress beneath him. 
“Hoseok!” You tried again, trying to grab his attention. 
“That’s it baby, keep saying my name.” He sighed, expertly rolling his hips against yours. 
Oh. Oh no. 
The sudden wave of arousal that washed over you was unwelcomed and even more frightening than anything else. You weren’t even in control of yourself anymore, that was what his presence did to you. 
“Play along,” The words that Namjoon had told you were suddenly echoing in your mind. 
Your breath got caught in your throat as he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the smooth roll of his hard length pressing against your core, light sparks of pleasure tingling throughout you. Shadows of fear still crept around in the back of your mind, the nape of your neck throbbing in a twisted reminder of the chip that lay beneath the skin. 
Hoseok was in his own world, hell bent on teasing you until he grew tired of it. He shifted his weight onto one arm allowing his hand to delicately trace up the length of your body. His fingers just barely brushed your thigh, trailing upwards to trace the hollows of your hips before settling on your waist and rising up over the barrel of your ribcage that was exposed so nicely for him from your arched spine. 
You were laying there, helpless for him, frozen from a state of arousal and fear that was blending perfectly into its own dark, tempting cocktail. You pressed your lips together firmly, smothering any whine that tried to force its way free from you when he pulled back, the motion of his hips stilling as he played with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know if you wanted to yell at him to go away, or scold him for stopping. 
Either way, you didn’t have much say on the matter. 
He tilted his head from side to side, his dark eyes tracing over your form from head to toe. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the heavy rise and fall of your chest, your wrinkled shirt, and the way your thighs and hips jerked from the loss of his touch. You looked adorable to him, he couldn’t deny the powerful feeling it gave him to see you so helpless beneath him. He was sick, and he loved it. 
His fingers were still tracing the hem of your shirt, like he was contemplating removing it despite the both of you knowing it was inevitably going to come off. Hoseok was an impatient man, that much you could tell. He firmly gripped the bottom of your shirt and began to roll it up agonizingly slowly, that satisfied smirk still pinned to his handsome features. 
“Whaddya say, hunny? Should we give Jihoon a sibling?” He laughed, his tongue flicking out to swipe over his lower lip at the thought of getting to see you full with his child again. He would be a liar if he said the thought didn’t turn him on. 
All of the blood rushed to your face, your thighs tensing reflexively against him where he was settled between your legs. 
“Is that what you want?” He hummed, hands settling on your hips and roughly pulling you down the mattress against him. “You want me to fill you up again, sweetheart?” 
You didn’t get a chance to even consider answering his lewd question, a sudden shock of lighting and a deep roll of thunder caught the two of you off guard. The once pitch black room had been lit up by the blast of light, the windows shaking from the boom of thunder. 
And then, there was the sound of crying and little footsteps. 
Hoseok hung his head backwards in distress before rolling off of you with an annoyed whine echoing through the room. “God fucking dammit.”
“Mommy! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled before throwing the door open and scampering up over the foot of the bed, his little face wet with tears as he scrambled over the sheets and settled himself in between the two of you. 
If you had questioned it before, you weren’t questioning it now. Jihoon was your savior. 
“Jihoon, it’s just a little thunder, it’s nothing to be scared of.” Hoseok said, his voice a little sterner than normal, most likely from his case of blue balls. 
“It’s scary!” The little boy rebutted, “I wanna sleep with you!”
“Jihoon -”
“It’s okay you can sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight.” You cut Hoseok off, opening your arms for Jihoon to snuggle into. 
The look on Hoseok’s face would have been humorous if you didn’t know you were going to have to pay for it eventually. 
Everything came with a price, eventually. 
~~~~~~~
Hours melted into days, and days slowly migrated into weeks. You had begun to lose track of how much time you had spent in this other life of yours. But you knew you couldn’t stand it for much longer. 
You could handle Jihoon, you liked Jihoon, you could stand even being there because of him. Hoseok...he was another story. He never hid his true intentions from you, that was for sure. But the more time you spent trapped inside that apartment the more you began to feel like you were going to lose yourself.
Sometimes you could forget what Hoseok really was, and other times he made sure to remind you. In this life, whoever this person was before you took over, they had never left the apartment since Jihoon was born. That was six years of their life spent trapped within these walls with no one to talk to except for two people who were only home for a few short hours a day. 
It was isolating. It wasn’t unlike the lonely life you had lived before in those regards. 
You were trapped, chipped, and alone. Any attempt you had made to leave by yourself, for any reason, had been swiftly thwarted by Hoseok. The knowledge of the tracker embedded in your neck reminded you that there was no point in running anyways, he would always find you. 
You tried to remind yourself that this would all be worth it in the end, that you could handle these weeks if it meant getting your old life back. But as each week passed, you weren’t so sure that was true any more. 
You were in a cyclical hell that you couldn’t manage. 
You had opened the door one day at the sound of someone outside it, it had been a new neighbor, a young man with full lips and an unusual laugh. Your heart had soared at the opportunity of being able to speak to someone other than a six year old or your possessive husband, but that had been quickly thwarted. 
Hoseok had pulled you back into the apartment and exited into the hallway, shutting the door behind him with a grim glare.
You never spoke to that neighbor again. 
Hoseok had become more needy as each week passed and you had taken to sleeping in Jihoon’s bed with him as often as you could, feeling protected by the boy you called your son. But your distance didn’t help in any manner, Hoseok was becoming more aggressive and more irritable. Not with your son, never with your son, but with you. 
He grabbed onto you more, touched you more, kissed you harder, and eventually forced you back into sleeping in your bedroom. 
You faked an illness for a few days to keep him at bay. That was how you got to this point. He was desperate. 
Hoseok was taking you on a work trip, just you, without your son. It was a city or two over, you would be staying at a hotel and having dinner with his coworkers there that same day. He was a desperate man calling for desperate measures to be alone with his wife. That meant that you had no more excuses and no Jihoon to protect you. 
Jihoon had cried when you said you had to go away with Hoseok, he didn’t want to go and stay with Hoseok’s mother, he wanted you two. And that part of your heart that had grown to accommodate him was slowly breaking with each tear that rolled down his cheeks. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t love him. 
You knew that you weren’t the best mother, you didn’t know what a good mother was like. Yours was efficient at best. So you dug down deep for what maternal instincts you had, held him close, dried his tears, and kissed his chubby cheeks. 
And you told him you loved him. The first person you ever loved. 
So, that was how you found yourself here, at a table with a bunch of boring men and their partners talking about their work with Hoseok’s hand gripping your thigh, his finger rubbing circles into the skin beneath the length of your dress. 
You were incredibly bored of this ordeal. All of these men were business executives and their concepts of how to run a business were rudimentary at best. It took everything in you to keep your mouth closed to not correct them in front of their higher ups and embarrass them for the everyday mistakes they were making. 
“Play along.” Namjoon had said, so that was what you did. 
Although you may be a mother now, you would always be a business woman and a successful one at that. They didn’t deserve your expertise. 
Your eyes lazily drifted away from the table, zoning out as their voices became reduced to a low rumble. And that was when you saw it, a flash of black fur and glowing jade eyes on the ledge outside the window. 
Taehyung. It was time. 
Your heart leapt with joy, a smile carving into your once stony expression. You could go home now, you could finally wake up from this nightmare. A sharp squeeze to your thigh grounded you, a pit rolling in your stomach. You had to get away from Hoseok. 
He was staring at you, confused by the sudden appearance of your joyful grin. 
You leaned close to him, whispering lowly, “I have to use the ladies room.”
“I’ll take you.” He replied, going to scoot his chair away from the table. 
You gripped his forearm, bringing him to a halt. “No, this is important for you, I’ll only be a moment.”
He stared at you in silence, assessing you and trying to figure out what you were getting at before he spoke. “Behave.”
You nodded quickly before excusing yourself from the table and rushing down the hallway. You had seen a large balcony on your way to the restaurant on the top floor, it was only a little ways away. 
As soon as you stepped foot onto the balcony, you saw him. Taehyung was there, resting on the balcony as the sun slowly drifted away behind a cover of clouds, a gentle rain was beginning to tap the marble floor beneath you. 
You approached him quickly, your heart pumping in time with the gentle rumble of thunder above you. Taehyung came to a stand on the railing, the sharp drop off beside him glaring at you. 
“We have to do it this way, again?” You asked, your hands wrapping around the railing beside him as you peered over. You were even higher now than you had been the first time, sharp tingles were shooting through your hands and feet as you stared down at the streets below. 
Taehyung stared at you in silence, his eyes blinking slowly twice. You would take that as a yes. 
So, you carefully sat yourself up on the railing and turned, allowing your feet to dangle over the ledge. You watched in horror as your heels slipped off and went plummeting down to the ground. It took them a long time to meet the pavement, it would be a long fall for you.
“Fuck, are all of you reapers this dramatic?” You hissed at the cat. He looked amused at your predicament. 
“Okay, let’s do this thing.” You huffed, reaching your hand out to touch the reapers silky midnight fur. 
And that was when you heard the panicked call of your name. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting Hoseok’s. His face was ashen, his hands held up as he attempted to approach you. Your eyes caught sight of his phone held up in one of his hands, a blinking dot on a grid staring back at you. He had accessed your tracker. 
“Baby, what are you doing?” He asked you, taking small, slow steps in your direction. “Come here, let’s talk, okay?”
“You can’t stop me,” You replied, “I won’t do this any longer.”
“You don’t know what you're saying, you're just stressed and scared. We can get through this.”
“I know what I’m doing, Hoseok. I’m done, my time is up and I need to go.”
“And what about me? What about Jihoon?” 
Jihoon. A chill spread through your body, your eyes suddenly stinging. You didn’t know that would be the last time you would hug him or say goodbye. He didn’t know that was the last day he would have a mother. 
“Jihoon will be fine.” You said firmly, Taehyung was creeping closer to you now at the same pace that Hoseok was. Your time was coming to a close, Hoseok was trying to compete with death. It was obvious who was going to win.
“I won’t let you do this.” He snapped back, frustration, desperation and fear taking over him as he flung his phone aside and began to run to you. 
“You don’t own me.” You spat back.
And then you grabbed Taehyung and clutched him to your chest before slipping off the edge of the balcony, Hoseok’s fingers just brushing your skin before you plummeted off the side of the building. 
Death was easier. 
~~~~~~~
First, there was darkness. 
And then there was the sound of monitors beeping around you.
Your eyes felt as heavy as lead, refusing to open on your command. And for a small, brief moment, you were afraid that when you opened your eyes he would be there. You were afraid that you had missed the window and you were trapped with him again.
But when you did manage to open your eyes, the person sleeping in the chair beside you was Jenny. 
You did it. 
Everyone was surprised by your survival and your recovery. The fall you had should have shattered your bones, mashed your brain, drained you of your blood. But you survived with minimal injuries. Some people called it a miracle, others thought you were a medical mystery. 
And Jenny though you were stupid. 
“What the fuck were you doing on that ledge? Were you that drunk or are you just that fucking stupid!” She yelled through her tears. 
“Both.” You answered, your face completely deadpan as she rained down a series of hits to your arms in retaliation. 
You laughed through it until she finally calmed down, a huffing mess in her chair beside you. “In all honesty, there was a cat on my balcony and I was trying to save it.”
“Oh my god, you are that fucking stupid aren’t you?” She said, shaking her head. “If you want a cat’s attention you lure it with food you dumbass! You are the dumbest smart person I know.” She sighed into her hands. 
The two of you remained quiet for a moment as she collected herself and you took in the room around you. There were no cards, no balloons, and no flowers. 
“So, I guess none of my family could clear some time in their busy schedules to come see me.” You said, quietly. 
Jenny raised her head, sympathy etched into the features of her face. “Do you want honesty, or do you want me to sugar coat it?”
You bit your lip in thought before making up your mind. “Honesty.”
Jenny took in a deep breath before scooting her plastic chair closer to your gurney. “Your family is...distancing themselves from you for the time being.”
“Distancing?” You echoed in confusion. 
“The media hasn’t taken too kindly to your...accident. Every tabloid is talking about the woman who has it all trying to throw it away. The public isn’t very happy with you at the moment.”
“The same wouldn’t be said if I had died.” You mumbled, because that was the truth. Nobody cared until it was far too late, their true intentions hiding beneath their masks of sorrow. It didn’t matter how much money you had, you had never been happy, and had your accident truly been an attempt well, maybe it was only a matter of time. 
“And what does my family think?”
“They aren’t too happy with you either. Your mother and father have put on a face for the public, wishing you a speedy recovery, but they left you a memo. They aren’t ready to speak with you yet, not until you do something to find your way back into their good graces. Your siblings, on the other hand, have said nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
You had forgotten how lonely this life was. Thoughts of Jihoon tugged at your heart strings, his little whispers of “I love you’s,” your after school snacks and cuddles, and the soft voice he used when he would wake you up in the morning with a gentle: “Mommy?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Jenny said quickly. 
Your brow wrinkled in confusion before you felt it, the cool, wet, glide of a tear rolling down the side of your cheek. You were crying. 
“It’s not you, Jenny. I’m just thinking about someone I love.”
~~~~~~~
You had returned to work almost immediately upon being discharged from the hospital. Jenny called you stupid, you called it trying to return to your only family. You knew you shouldn’t care about their opinion, not when they so clearly showed their disappointment in you and their lack of care. But they were all you had, they were your family, your blood. They made you what you were.
Right?
So there you were, back to wearing those red bottom heels, those tailored suits, and those glasses you hadn’t touched in so long, hidden behind your desk in your office. 
You had kept your cool and your composure when you entered the office, doing your best to show you were unfazed by the shocked stares and the hushed whispers between your employees. You kept your composure only to throw your office door shut and slump against it with panicked pants for air. 
No matter how hard you tried, you knew you were never going to be the same anymore. Not after your fall, not after the crossroads, and not after Hoseok. You were broken in ways you couldn’t even comprehend. 
Even now, sitting at your desk, eyes trained on your computer, your finger swept over the skin at the nape of your neck, mindlessly feeling for the bump, the tracker that was once buried there. You were only met with seamless skin and irritation from the constant rubbing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up rubbing the back of your neck raw. 
A soft knock to your door had you sighing in relief, you needed some respite from the thoughts that were racing a million miles a minute in your mind. You were mentally exhausted from everything you had gone through. You removed your glasses, pressing your cool fingers to your eyes. Your hands were hurting again. 
There was a loud crash as the door clicked shut, the sound of liquid spilling violently all over the floor of your office and the thick, strong odor of coffee. And then, there was the shocked gasp of your name.
A familiar chill traced down your spine at the voice, your heart kicking into overdrive. No, it couldn’t be. You rose from your chair causing it to spin away, your breathing quickening as you began to panic. 
It was Hoseok, standing there in your office in a puddle of coffee.
Jenny’s words from all those weeks ago came flooding back into your mind. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”
You stepped backwards in fear, your world suddenly crashing down on you in one fatal swoop. 
He called your name again, a similar panic on his face as he crossed the room in distress. “Please! You, you have to help me! I don’t know what's going on but it feels like my head is being torn apart!”
Tears were rushing down your cheeks in endless rivers now. You had walked so far backwards that you were pinned against the tall windows behind you with nowhere left to go. 
“I have two lives, two sets of memories running parallel in my head and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t!”
You closed your eyes, your body shaking and shutting down the closer he got. And then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you in his grasp as he began to hyperventilate. 
“Where’s Jihoon?! Where did he go?! He cried, his body trembling in tune with your own as he was bombarded with memories he knew and ones he didn’t. He was too close now, his body pressed tightly to your own in that same suffocating manner as he panicked, his mind being torn apart for reasons unknown to him, holding onto you to ground himself.
You were beginning to understand now amidst the haze of panic. Namjoon had said he was putting you in a different place, in a different time. He had never said in a different life. You hadn’t become someone else, you had been moved six years forward in time. Those painful weeks you had lived through with the guise of them being temporary had all been for absolutely nothing. You were doomed to live out the life you had been trapped in. 
It was fate.
“Where is our son?!”
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onlycags · 4 years
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Pre-Match Fight | Çağlar Söyüncü
Request: Saw your doing caglar requests could you do one where before the Mach today you have a fight and he says something that really hurts you but after the match he expects you to be there but your not and when he gets home he finds you in his lcfc Hoodie with tear stained cheeks and it breakers his heart and that night he makes it up to you and you comfort him after the bad match. Thank you I love cags and am so happy that somebody is writing for him and showing him some love 💓
Yes hi hello! Thank you for this! This was so much fun to write and I got suuuper caught up in this so it turned out much longer than I was anticipating haha Enjoy! xx
Word Count: 1,359 Rating: T
- - -
Like most of your fights these days, it had been over something trivial and stupid.  It was to be expected after being together a little under a year, but they were always unexpected.
His matchday routine was always solitary, and you had come to accept the fact that if you spent the night before a match, the two of you would have very little interaction. You didn’t mind too much, though; you were perfectly content to sit next to him in silence as he went over different offensive and defensive plays in his head.
This morning was different. He woke up in a mood that wasn’t like his usual matchday broodiness. His matchday interview had come up on the LCFC website the day before and he had watched it, commenting angrily about how far he should be on his English by now. You had brushed it off, kissing him lightly and telling him how hot it was to listen to him speak Turkish, even if the translation had been a little too loud for your liking.
You walked into the kitchen, taking note of the way he sat at the kitchen table, a glass of water next to him as he listened to something with his headphones in. You admired his broad shoulders and the tattoo that spread across his chest that he sometimes let you trace, loving it when he chose not to put a shirt on and you could admire his powerful, football-sculpted torso.
His mood filled the kitchen and it made you itch to touch him and reassure him. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you made your way over to him, catching his eye as you set your mug on the table. You walked around to stand behind him, running your fingers over the muscles in his arms before wrapping them around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. He stiffened, taking the headphones out.
“What are you doing?” He asked, his accent thick.
“Making you feel better,” you whispered, lightly biting his earlobe.
Abruptly, he pushed the chair back, pushing you back against the wall. “Well, don’t.” He broke free of your hold and stormed off.
“What the hell do you expect me to do when you’re like this, Çağlar?!” You called, following him into the living room.
“Leave me alone, [Y/N]. I don’t need you here messing with my routine. It is bad enough that I let you spend the night before a match. We have lost two matches in a row and both times you spent the night with me before them.”
You looked at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously accusing me of being the reason why the team hasn’t won a match in two weeks?!”
He shrugged and looked away, silently confirming what you had just asked him. Tears pricked at your eyes as you grabbed your bag.
“Where are you going?” He asked, his voice filling with concern.
You sniffled, swiping angrily at the tears in your eyes. “Out. I need some air and I don’t want to contribute any more to the loss since it’s all my fault.” You brushed past him, making sure to grab your keys to his place.
He caught your wrist right before you left. “Will you be coming to Turf Moor still?”
Your eyes searched his and you wrenched out of his grasp. “We’ll see.” You slammed the door, inhaling the crisp winter air as you walked to the nearest bus stop.
Your phone vibrated with an incoming text from Çağlar, but you ignored it, turning your phone completely off. Getting off the bus, you made your way to Highcross, desperately in need of some retail therapy. You passed the sports store on your way, your heart clenching as you saw a poster of Çağlar in the window.
Once inside Highcross, you headed straight for Topshop. You promised yourself you weren’t going to buy anything, just look around and try some cute things on.
After finding nothing at Topshop, you hit up Schuh, drawn in by all the designer brands. You tried on a pair of Louboutins that made you feel powerful, but the price tag quickly deflated your invincibility. You window-shopped at Reiss, already knowing everything was above your price range, but you couldn’t not look at all the designer wear.
Before long, three hours had passed, and you didn’t even realize until your stomach grumbled. You had a brief flash of guilt as you decided to keep your phone off and ignore the match altogether.
The guilt got the better of you and by the start of the match, you were back in Çağlar’s flat, wearing his jersey as you watched the footage live.
Your heart sank as you watched Leicester lose their third match in a row. Tears once again filled your eyes as you thought back to Çağlar’s accusation this morning about how you were a bad luck charm. Without him here, the flat felt cold and empty. You made yourself a cup of tea as you rooted around in his closet to find your favourite hoodie of his - even though you were mad at him, you still missed him.
***
Çağlar searched for you in the stands at Turf Moor, his heart breaking when couldn’t find you. You hadn’t missed a single match since the two of you had started dating, even the away ones, and it killed him that you hadn’t come today.
“Have you seen [Y/N]?” He asked Madders at the end of the match, his voice frantic.
Madders grimaced, placing a hand on Çağlar’s shoulder. “No, sorry, mate. Ben’s girl Val said she didn’t show at all.”
He cursed in Turkish, angry at himself for his behaviour this morning.
The bus ride back to Leicester was somber, the team reflecting on the crushing defeat against an easy team like Burnley.
The flat was dark when Çağlar walked in, dread filling him - had he really hurt you so badly you weren’t coming back? He flicked on the light to the living room, both shocked and relieved to find you sitting on the couch.
“I’m so sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth as he makes his way over to where you sit, wearing his hoodie, your eyes red from crying.
You set your tea on the coffee table as you stand up to move away from him. He grabs your wrist for the second time today, pulling you into him, your back pressed against his front. You squirm, trying to get away, but he holds you tightly, resting his forehead on your back. He presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, smiling to himself as you react to his touch.
He slides his hands underneath his hoodie that you’re wearing, enjoying the hitch in your breath as you lean back against him. He stills, wanting to apologize again before going any further. “Why did you stop?” You ask, breathing hard. You shift so that you’re straddling him and you’re facing each other. “Talk to me, Çağlar.”
His expression is torn as he whispers, “I’m so sorry I hurt you this morning,” his hand touching your cheek.
“It’s okay,” you said, looking away.
“No, it is not okay,” he replied, his voice hard. “I should never have implied that you could possibly be anything other than a good luck charm and the best thing that has ever happened to me besides football.”
He kisses you hard, emphasizing his point. The mood of the room shifts from serious to sexual in seconds, both of you needing each other. His gaze darkens as he pulls off the hoodie you’re wearing to find his jersey underneath.
You loosen his tie, your small fingers making quick work of the buttons on his button-down, “God, I love it when you wear suits,” you murmur, kissing your way down his chest eliciting a groan from him that you feel deep in your core.
The two of you spend the rest of the evening making up - him apologizing for his words with his mouth, and you comforting him on the results of the match with your touch.
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notsoguiltykpop · 7 years
Text
The Ghost in Apartment 1403 pt8
Reader x Namjoon
Genre: Angst, supernatural, fluff, humor
Warnings: Mentions of death, dark themes, generally kind of sad at times. If you are concerned that it may be triggering for you, please feel free to message me about it and I can let you know in more detail exactly what happens <3
Short summary;
Namjoon was a (relatively speaking) normal music producer moving up in the world–until he became a ghost. With no memory of what happened, and no idea what he’s doing still on earth, he haunts his old apartment–consequently bothering its new inhabitant (who also happens to be the only person who can see or hear him).
Part 1, 2 , 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
CHAPTER WARNING: There is nothing happy in this part, no jokes. It ended up very glum, I’m sorry. If you’re at all concerned about it triggering you, please message me and we can talk about it, or I would be happy to give you a summary of what happens so future parts will make sense <3
It didn’t take long to find everything you needed, Namjoon knew his computer well, and it was all saved to the thumb drive within fifteen minutes. 
“Let’s get out of here.” You said, closing the laptop once more before looking over to where Namjoon was staring blankly at a poster on the wall. “Namjoon?” You prompted, making your way over to him. You recognized the poster, it was for a band that was huge at the moment--though you couldn’t quite remember the name. 
“I produced the album that put them on the charts.” He said, his voice detached. “Even wrote a few of the songs.”
“Impressive.” You said, unsure of why Namjoon sounded so sad about this fact. 
“I spent so much of my time making other peoples music.” Namjoon said, more to himself than to you. “Since my senior year of high school, I worked non stop. Spent all day studying and all night writing. And what do I have to show for it?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Not a single damn thing.” 
“I’m sure that’s not true.” You said gently. 
“I always thought there’d be more time. I could make my album later, spend time with my parents later. Be somebody, later.”
“You certainly made an impression on your friends. They loved you a lot.” That much was clear to you, and you hoped that Namjoon could see it too.
Namjoon shook his head, but didn’t say anything more. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, before there was a light knock on the door and Jungkook stuck his head inside. 
“Sorry, I just...” 
“It’s fine.” You gave him a smile, grateful that you were long finished with Namjoons laptop. If Jungkook had walked in as you were transferring files, you had no idea how you would explain it. “I was about to leave.” 
Jungkook nodded. “We--Me, Taehyung and Yoongi--were going to see Namjoon today. You know, tell him how life has been. Taehyung says he can hear us, I don’t know... But anyway, I wanted to know if you’d like to come along?” 
The offer was heartbreaking. You wished there was some way to tell Jungkook the truth, some way to explain to him who you really were and why you were there. But you couldn’t, you knew that. You also knew that if you went with them, even if Yoongi didn’t call the cops, you would be intruding on something that you had no business in. 
“Jungkook--that’s really sweet of you to offer, but I...” Namjoon looked close to tears, and then suddenly, he was gone. He disappeared through the wall, abandoning you with Jungkook. “I don’t think I can today.” You finished, trying not to look as startled as you felt. “I wish I could--really I do, but...”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook gave you a quick smile. “I get it. There are days I can’t be there, either. Maybe another time.” 
“Definitely.” You agreed. Namjoon was such a pain in the butt, you had no idea how he had such kind, understanding friends. 
“I should get going, then.” Jungkook took a step towards the door. “But let me know if there’s anything else I can do.” 
“Thank you--Oh, and Jungkook?” He was halfway through the door when you called his name, raising an eyebrow in question. “Could you not mention my being here to Yoongi?” 
“Yeah. Absolutely. Is there a reason why?” You could see why Yoongi was so protective of Jungkook--he was sweet, trusting, and gullible. It was going to get him into trouble someday. 
“Yoongi and I have a... Complicated relationship, if you know what I mean?” You weren’t even sure what you meant, but you hoped Jungkook would jump to enough conclusions not to ask too many more questions. 
“Not really.” He shook his head. “But don’t worry. As far as Yoongi knows, you were never here.” He gave you one last innocent smile before he was gone, leaving you completely alone in Namjoons office. 
“You should have gone with them.” You said when you returned to your apartment. Namjoon was laying across the couch watching some sappy movie. You knew the movie wasn’t why his cheeks were damp, but you weren’t about to ask him if he’d been crying--he’d tell you if he wanted to talk about it. 
“Why? So I wouldn’t be here, bothering you?” Namjoon asked, his voice bitter. 
“Because they’re at your grave talking to thin air while you could actually be listening to them.” You huffed, sitting down where his feet hovered. He didn’t complain like he usually did, however, just moved them out of the way. 
“And what good would that do?” Namjoon asked. “I can’t even water a damn house plant, what good would it do them for me to be there?” 
You wanted to argue, but couldn’t think of anything to say. “You should get started on finishing your music.” You said, putting the USB drive with all his songs on the coffee table. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” 
You left him sitting there, choosing to make dinner rather than sit with the moping ghost. There wasn’t anything more you could do for him for the time being, you knew that. All you could do was hope that releasing his music would let his soul rest.
“I want food.” Namjoon said from over your shoulder as you poured soup into a bowl. “I know I’m dead and all, but I think I must have died hungry and stayed that way.” 
Without saying anything, you got down another bowl out of the cabinet, filling it with soup as well. Then, you carried both bowls over to the table along with two spoons. 
Namjoon watched in silence, eventually seeming to figure out what you were doing. “Is that for me?” He asked, floating over to where you sat. 
“No, it’s for the other ghost in my apartment.” You said, taking a careful sip of the hot broth. “Sit. It’ll get cold.” 
“Thank you.” Namjoon said, so quietly it was almost inaudible as he sat across from you. 
“No problem.” You said, looking up from your food to give him a smile. But when you did so, he was much more faint than you had ever seen him. 
“I made a website.” Namjoon floated so he was directly in front of the TV, blocking your view. It had been a week since you stole Namjoons music files, and you were finally realizing that police weren’t going to come knocking on your door to arrest you. 
“Yippee.” You deadpanned. “Now move.” 
“I’m going to make a youtube channel too.” Namjoon continued. “And soundcloud. But first, I need a name.” 
“You have a name.” You blinked, picking up the remote and turning off the TV so you could hear Namjoon better. He was easier to see now, but his voice still wasn’t as loud as usual. Was it possible for ghosts to get sick?
“No, I need a stage name. I can’t publish something as me--I’m dead, remember?” 
“Didn’t you have some kind of stage name before?” You asked. “Or one you were going to use when you finished your album?” 
“Yeah, but it was my producing name, Runch Randa.” 
“Can’t use that...” You muttered. Too many people would could potentially recognize the name, it would look suspicious. 
“Right. So I was thinking, I rap, right?” 
“Okay.” You shrugged. You had yet to hear any of Namjoon finished music, he was keeping it a secret until it was done and published. 
“And I’m a ghost. So what if I called myself Rap Ghost.” 
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” You shook your head, unable to stop the laughter bubbling up. 
The next day, Namjoon informed you that his music was done, and he was ready to click upload. You could see the fear in his eyes, even though Namjoon was smiling. 
“Do you want me to do it?” You asked, sitting down next to him at the computer that evening. You noticed that the name Rap Monster was by the title of the song. It seemed like a very Namjoon name.
“Well, I can’t with you watching me anyway...” Namjoon shrugged, and you nodded. You moved the mouse, clicked the button, and waited.
Nothing happened. 
“I’m not gone.” Namjoon said flatly. 
“That was just Youtube.” You said, switching tabs. You felt a sudden rush of relief as you spoke, however. Namjoon wasn’t gone, and you were grateful for it. “Maybe soudcloud?” You uploaded the songs there, and once again, Namjoon stayed. He crossed his arms, frowning at the screen. 
“Maybe people have to hear it.” Namjoon said after a second. You left the room so he could share it to twitter, reply to people with links, tweet it to as many people as he could. 
But an hour later, he came floating through the wall to sit with you on your bed. 
“I’m still here.” He sighed. “So you’re going to be stuck with me for a while longer.” 
“We’ll figure something out.” You said at his sad expression. “You won’t be stuck here forever. I promise.”
“What if I like being stuck here?” He asked quietly. 
“Then you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” You said, the words even surprising you a little as they left your mouth. But you found that you meant it, and the more you thought about it, the more you were sure you were going to miss Namjoon when he was gone. 
The views on Namjoons songs rose at an alarming speed, and you couldn’t believe how many comments they were getting. Though, you could understand why. The whole album (though you weren’t sure if it really was an album since you couldn’t buy it anywhere) was full of relatable songs about anything from heartbreak to equality issues to money problems. 
“Namjoon, these songs aren’t half bad.” You called into the other room, and Namjoon stuck his head through the door. 
“I know.” He said. “I wouldn’t have wanted to release them if they were crap.” 
But his cheeks turned a light pink, and once again, he became more translucent. You frowned. “Namjoon?” You asked slowly, closing your laptop. “Are you feeling alright?” 
Namjoon stepped further into the room, confusion on his face. “I’m feeling normal, I think.” He said with a shrug. “Why?” 
“You’re...” Your voice trailed off. “I can see through you.” 
“Yeah, I’m a ghost. Can’t you always see through me?” 
You shook your head. “No. Sometimes you’re as solid as if you were... Well, solid. But sometimes...” Even as you spoke, he faded in and out, sometimes hardly even an outline before coming back. “But maybe that’s a normal ghost thing.” 
“Are you worried?” Namjoon said teasingly, approaching the bed where you sat. 
“No.” You said quickly. 
“You are, aren’t you?” Namjoon smiled brilliantly, leaning down so he was eye level with you. “But you shouldn’t be. I’m dead, so it’s not like anything bad can happen to me.” 
“Oh, go away.” You waved your hand as though you were going to put it through his face and he stepped back quickly, but his smile didn’t budge. 
“You’re blushing.” 
“Am not.” You opened your laptop once more, trying your best to pretend you didn’t hear the laughter coming from the ghost standing in your bedroom. 
“I don’t understand it, how the hell could this happen?” Yoongi was on the edge of losing it, Namjoon could tell. He had decided to check in on the production team on a whim, and now he thought it might be because they were talking about him (Was that a thing? Could people summon him? He had no idea). 
“How should I know?” Jimin shook his head. “Are you sure it’s really his?” 
“Positive.” Yoongi drummed his fingers on the meeting room table. “Jungkook, you recognize Namjoons music too, don’t you?” 
Jungkook nodded wordlessly, staring at the wood of the table as though answers were written there. 
“So you’re telling me,” Jimin said. “That somehow, someone got their hands on Namjoons unfinished songs--ones that only the two of you and Taehyung knew he was even writing--finished them, and posted them online under a different name as their own.” 
“Yes.” Yoongi growled. “I can prove it, too. They’re all still on Namjoons laptop in his office.” 
“Yeah? And how did this person find his music, or even know to look for it? It had to have been posted somewhere.” 
“It wasn’t.” Jungkook said quietly, his eyes still wide. “He only ever saved it to his computer, and a backup he kept under his desk.” 
“If what you’re saying is true.” Jimin rubbed his eyes. “Then it had to be someone in this building--no one else has access to his computer, or office for that matter. And it’s only the two of you who knew he was working on an album, so...” Jimin looked between the two. 
“If you’re suggesting it was one of us, you can go to hell.” Yoongi said. 
“There isn’t anyone else it could be.” Jimin ran a hand through his hair.
“There is one person.” Jungkook said, looking like he might cry. “But she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t steal Namjoons music. Would she?” He looked up slowly, and Namjoon had no idea how he was going to fix this. 
A/N This was more angsty than normal, I feel like. I’m sorry. This is definitely one of the saddest/darkest things I’ve written, but believe it or not, I have a happy ending planned (I think it’s happy, anyway). There’s just a lot of angst before we get there. I’m going to keep dropping hints about it though, haha. Thank you for reading! And as always, let me know how you feel about it! I hope it didn’t make anyone too sad, and if it did, feel free to yell at me <3 <3 <3
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libarygoldfish · 5 years
Text
Dead until you awake - Hamilton fanfiction, Ghost AU (Chapter 1 )
Author :
I really want to post this fic somewhere and have it back up on some part of the internet. This is a collaboration between me and my dear friend Trinnie. I love it with all my heart. So please don't insult our work if you somehow found it and read it.
Rating:
Warning: Major character death, graphic violence
Category: M/M, F/M, Multi
Fandom: Hamilton (Lin Manuel Miranda)
Characters: Alexander Hamilton, Charles Lee (Li), Ling Li,
Relationship: Alexander Hamilton & Charles Lee (Li), Karin Simons (OC)/ Charles Lee (mention/post)
Additional tag: suicidal character, drug use, accident, embarrassing violation of privacy, parental issues, college failure, teenage pregnancy, attachment issues, etc
Chapter 1 :
Alex raises a middle finger to the man who drove him and his wet carton boxes to his new accommodation. It was a makeman following orders from Mr. Schuyler, helping Alex one final time before closing all his doors to the Schuyler family. Great. Another way to rub it in his face that he was never part of it anyway.
He looks at the small townhouse with its yellowing front yard and spider-webbed windows with a sigh. It is unbelievably cheap and strangely free of any negative feedback. Once Alex thought he had seen somebody said the place was haunted, but then the comment was deleted within an hour. Seems like the website has a good filter with spam content then.
He knows for sure he’d feel very alone in it. Such a big home for no one but him. Alex normally would get angry at this moment, angry at Eliza’s impassive expression and the way she gladly turned from him with a hand on her slightly swollen stomach. He’d get angry if he has the energy for it.
But he doesn’t. Everything is taken away from him: his education, his job, his girlfriend, his child growing in her stomach, and now his anger. His life is a spilled glass of water. And he wants to break the glass.
The floor squeaks when Alex starts carrying in his boxes. As if there is a second pair of feet walking with him but Alex pays no attention. He observes the heavily hanging webs across the furniture and upper corners, almost like thin veils of invisible brides. It’s a nice place to die, nobody will probably find him for a long time.
He wonders if the bottle of bromethalin rodenticide will be painful once Alex gathers enough courage to use it.
He enters the bathroom and is happy to see the taps still work. But the old water leaks a color brown and he leaves it open until it looks safe enough. The bedroom seems to be less dirty other than a few webs scattered on top of the neatly made blanket covering the bed. He simply flings it to the floor and lies down, closing his eyes for sleep to naturally come and claim his idle, unenergetic body.
Ten years, this is his 10th year stuck in this awkward position. He hasn’t get out of this haunted house since 2008. Everything seems to get bigger and fancier over this decade, but he’s still that 21 years old Charles Lee. He thinks while remembering what it was like when this new kid moved in a week ago.
People who rented this house would always move out before their one year contract reached an end. They would curse at the owner through texts, trying to leave a comment on their website, or even collecting evidence about him. They have never succeeded to get any attention, you can see their plans fall apart by those new ones filling into their empty spots. Nobody knew that being noticed was harder than they imagined.
Take this new roommate he has as the example. This ponytail-teen seems to be ignoring his present from the very first second. This boy, whose name clearly is Alex based on his email account and how most of his friend address him in that flat-touchable phone. “ Alex” hadn’t even seemed to notice he have a ghost roommate. No matter how much noises and signs he makes with every part of the house.
Shaking window? Alex simply gives it a glare before he continues his meaningless small paragraphs ( who even would spend that much of the time to debating on a website that you can only type 140 words ? ).
Disrupting the signal so that the youtube site would play a video which screams out his name? His emotionless new roommate only texted what happened to a guy named John.
Not even with his best trick that makes everyone “ realized” they have a nonhuman roommate. Alex, or more correctly, one of the worst roommate he ever had in this house ( Burr won the worst place easily, but this guy feels worse than him in a way). Charles can’t believe he just wiped those words off without a flinch, those words he spent hours and precious energies on… what a monster he is facing here.
And a monster deserves to be treated like one, he has to use that forbidden way to communicate with Alex.That way he hadn’t had a chance to do since 2009.
“Hi, Alex, I’m your ghost roommate Charles Lee. Can you please pay more attention to the fact You HAVE a roommate and he’s NOT a human? How can you possibly ignore every sign I gave you? Anyway, please stop ignoring my present cause I… really need your help on something important... please stop pretending you saw nothing, or I will keep typing on your thin computer and that flat-touchable phone. ”
He types down everything he wants to shout into Alex’s face while the boy is writing another long paragraph about something he doesn’t give a fuck. All he needs is this asshole to notice him, and at least do something about it.
Honestly? Comment section fighting is now the only thing that keeps Alex alive. It’s small and unexpected, but Alex had nothing else to look forward to when he goes to bed every day. It drags him out of bed, although he only changes places by sitting on the dusty desk. Still, progress is progress. Even if it’s tiny and insignificant.
Alex hasn’t even cleaned the place ever since he came here. If he’s going to die very soon, why bother cleaning it? He remembers he once was the most hard-working employee and what did it cause him? His education. Maybe his sanity is also out of the question. Which is why he’s seeing the pointer blinking and blinking as the keyboard types on its own. Alex raises his hands away but the stream of words continues nonetheless.
“Hi, Alex, I’m your ghost roommate Charles Lee. Can you please pay more attention to the fact You HAVE a roommate and he’s NOT a human? How can you possibly ignore every sign I gave you? Anyway, please stop ignoring my present cause I… really need your help on something important... please stop pretending you saw nothing, or I will keep typing on your thin computer-“
Interesting. But this says nothing. Alex thinks this website has such an interesting AI to respond to him. He thought AI’s would never admit they’re not human. Unless they have come up with a roleplaying model, then that’s very understandable. He decides to give it a try.
He simply types back. “Why should I pay attention to this non-human roommate? If he’s staying, isn’t he obliged to split the ownership payment with me?”
“Why should I pay attention to this non-human roommate? If he’s staying, isn’t he obliged to split the ownership payment with me?”
Can a human be more… insensitive about what just happened to him? On his computer? Charles Lee is certain that he made those keyboards typed themselves in a normal human’s eyes. Are the technologies really that advance right now? But things are still going by his plan, this one is still communicating with him.
He dislikes how this new human has no respect or fears toward him...but he remembers how great a human interaction felt like, and how much does he miss it.
So he continues sucking up battery power from Alex’s strange computer while writing down his reply to explain the situation. Jokingly trying to convince his new roommate why he doesn’t need to pay the rent.
“Are you really asking why a ghost doesn’t need to pay rent? …
Here’s why I don’t need to pay anything. First, I don’t need any place to do anything I need to. For example, I’m sitting in the same spot you are now, in a thick layer of dirty blankets. do you feel my weight or anything on you? No? great. See my point?
Second, this is MY house. Well, technically my grandma’s now, cause I leave it to her after I became a ghost.
… Should I start proving I’m a real ghost now like those weird comedy movies? “
He crosses his leg after he finished the reply, saving some additional energy he got from touching/possessing Alex’s device. Today seems to be a bit, no, so much fresher than these ten years (not physically, of course, his house is still dusty like a winter storm). To have another person to truly communicating with is… unbelievably happy. Not like he doesn’t enjoy alone time and watching others living their own lives. He’s dead, he shouldn’t have any desire to be and live like other humans. He should be moving on from this.
He won’t be one of those people who can’t move on.
Alex blinks. It’s a bit harder to tell if this is an AI that hacks into his computer or not. But then he remembers the writing on his mirror. The way his video game specifically chanted over and over in a demonic tone.
Definitely a ghost then.
“Are you a ghost of a Revolutionary general?” Alex now asks aloud. He tries not to feel stupid. But then he’s seeing a blurry silhouette, the glitchy motion around this figure.
Could it be that the more he believes in this being, the more of it he would see? Alex recalls the theory from an old movie he saw.
He opens up a Word document and types in.
“How did you die? Why didn’t you go to the afterlife? Is there an afterlife at all?”
[Fin-fucking-nally!] Charles shout out after hearing Alex’s questions. Feeling terribly happy about his new roommate’s recognition of his identity. He starts typing out his replies after calming down from that shouldn't be existed excitement.
“ That would be cool and sad if I’m from the 18th centuries. But no, I’m just a regular college fuck-up from 10 years ago. “
He can't help but imagines how terrible would it be if he's here since 1776, that kind of ghost is definitely one that can’t move one, 10 years isn't that long when compared to centuries of existence.
He continues typing in his reply after thinking about them for a few minutes.
There’s nobody to tell him can he tell a human that or not… But since this isn't a classic horror film interaction, why not telling him about it? Not like it and privacy matters that much anymore.
“ Wow wow, slow down my dude, that's some... long-story-short questions you just asked. But before I answer any of those, I need to know would you help me out or not first, a simple yes or no. Because, you know, those questions are awfully personally to a ghost, to a stuck one like me.
Alex shakes himself awake at that reply. It’s been a week since he moved in and Alex hasn’t gone outside at all; he didn’t eat much and is still counting on the fridge stock. He hasn’t interacted with anyone, which may have caused him to forget very basic manners. He forgot he has just asked someone, a former human, how they died.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to offend you. What do you mean by “help out”? What will this help entail? I pretty much have nothing to do for now so time’s not a concern.”
Alex smiles bitterly at his own reply. Time was something he never had before. He enrolled in college with an unbelievable amount of financial aid, his name too innocuous for filtering. After that, he learned that uni had never been the highschool endgame, the movie ending he imagined. No, it was a storm of progress.
He balanced between study with finding enough dough to feed himself. It went well until Alex was wrought with illness after spending 14 hours a day outdoors in January running errands. He lost precious time for his work, his study and was brought into the care of one Eliza Schuyler. She was doing Meds but helped out her Nursery friend who couldn’t attend her practicals. Eliza was drawn to his hard work and scathing humor, the way his speech naturally flaunts.
She just didn’t know that the downsides to him were sleepless nights, a frayed mind and a man desperate to rise above his station.
She realized too late when her belly swelled and she had to hide from her sisters by staying over at his place 24/7. The nights she couldn’t sleep with his desk lamp on and the cackling of his keyboard, her feet aching which prevented her from seeking relief from the morning sickness. The way Alex tried to do work from home to tend for her needs went underappreciated. They were sketched in different shades of pencil gray, smudged in terrible condition. Both missing schools, both not working enough to sustain themselves and both miserable. Both failing uni and there was no salvation but to retake the year. Scholarship ripped away from Alex and his chance of regaining a similar one is a number with many zeros behind a dot.
One of them had a family to fall onto, the other did not. And he would never do. And he will soon make a child fatherless with the bromethalin waiting in his bag like a ticking time bomb.
He stands up from his former position, taking few steps to face that kid who smiles bitterer than how he should in his age. Not like he’s that much older than him, but he knows what other kids look like at his age, at least how they look like at 2008. Replying him further with a sarcastic tone between his sentence doesn’t sound like a good option at this moment. Charles decides to write his answer with a different kind of tone he was planning to use.
“ Non taken, it was good enough that you are curious than furiously trying to kick me out…”
He remembers the first few families who seem to care about him at first. Our little girl has an imaginary best friend, they said. How cute, he like a dog just like her, they awed. He wants her to let him be IN her body, they screamed. Totally ignored is the reason behind his intention to possess her, only looked into the things that conquered over their minds. Most humans who didn’t get scared treated him like a pest. forgetting who is the real owner and who’s the new *guest*.
“ ...that help relates to my afterlife. To answer your one of your question, Yes, the afterlife does exist. Even though I haven’t been to my own afterlife yet. But I can feel it... like that company you always want to get in, but you just not qualified... ANYWAY. I, clearly still stuck in between. This means I still haven’t moved on, I still have regrets I NEED to fulfilled… I know we just start to know each other for couples minutes, it’s fine if you don’t want to help me at all. “
He tries to look Alex in the eyes, saying out the help he needs while typing it down.
“ Can I… Possess you? And maybe borrow your thin-Computer for a day. I just need to find her, I mean, finish that things I can’t leave behind … I won’t overdo it, of course, even I know too much possession can kill a human. “
Alex blinks and rereads. Blinks some more. Traces the line with his finger. So his battery level has decreased almost by half. He quickly imagines how being killed by this will be like; probably feeling drained and tired until you suddenly drop dead like a shut-down PC.
So it’ll be a sort of death in your sleep kind of way...suddenly the bromethalin seems a tad ridiculous. Alex’s having an easy way out, and it comes unexpectedly almost like everything else in his life.
“So..Charles? Why are you asking for permission? Did you almost kill someone when you tried to possess them?” He asks to find out if there’s really a guarantee of death should this possession business be real.
“ Well, it’s a tradition. A routine we need to follow if we need to possess a living thing. Like… inviting a vampire into your house? “
Charles types back with a sense of relief but misunderstands Alex’s reaction to his response. He only catches his reaction of him touching the decreasing battery level.
“To be honest, I have never really possessed a person more than an hour before. I heard about how possession kills a health human though. And killing someone with this… unfortunately *power* isn’t my intention.”
He lies down on the ground, pretending he can feel those dust on the floor again. Like what he used to do when he wanted to avoid his parents’ meeting. Sleeping on the cold floor with AC running whole night always made him sick enough to not seeing anyone, but still able to do his works.
Alex for a moment cannot see the blurry figure anymore and panics a bit. He hasn’t seen it lying down.
“Wait? Where are you?” He calls. “I’m curious, how do you know you are poss- how do you know you have successfully possessed someone?”
“And how will possessed death be like, I wonder? Is it like brain dead or stop-breathing-dead?”
“ I'm on the ground buddy. Already missing me without even seeing me clearly?”
He didn’t get up from the ground but stay in the same position, typing out his answer with his head this time. One of the few good things about being a ghost, you can type with your mind. Which lower the rated battery dies out, but still takes a lot of battery power out fast.
“I’m glad you are getting serious now, cause your computer is dying faster than I thought. Well, I would be able to control your physically. Kinda like your 2nd personality in some way, you would still be able to interact with me internally??
…and the ...um, death? It would be like a brain dead situation. I would be slowly draining your brain, human’s natural energy source, where we have most of the electric signals going on. That’s probably an important reason why a ghost need consent to possess anyone. We are basically slowly sucking up your life juice. “
“...how can I trust you to control me?” Alex asks, shuddering. This sounds like an out-of-control situation and that’s something unacceptable for Alex. No way. Not after the downward spiral he and Eliza were helpless to escape.
“Can’t you do what you’re doing now? Like…” Alex looks to the ground, not seeing the blurry figure very well so he pins his gaze onto a particular spot. “Like...not be in my body but still using my life force?”
John’d criticize him for his need to control everything. But Alex thinks once you’ve reached such a low point as now, your complex is of the least concern.
He wonders if Charles needs to keep his ghostly state a secret.
“Well, that’s not how human possession works, unfortunately.“
He replies to Alex with a smirk on his face, chuckles lightly from how easy human imagines possession would be. Why would he be controlling those machines than humans when humans are so much more efficient?
“ I figured out that we can only control lifeless subjects distantly, but not any lives who have a thought. Do you know I even have to negotiate with a bird if I want to possess it? Yes, I tried E V E R Y T H I N G . “ And he can’t understand any of their words no matter how hard he tried.
“And I’m only a regular ghost who barely managed to keep my energy wave together, forcing a living being to be fully under my control… would possibly break me apart. So yeah, you totally don’t need to worry about me doing anything you don’t want. I would be like your subpersonality, who doesn’t have enough power to push you away from the spotlight? “
For a moment, Alex isn’t going to take the risk. But then he sees himself in the phrase “tried E V E R Y T H I N G” and does a double-take. He knows very well the feeling of having done everything and still ends up alone. Defeated. A failure.
That feeling of loneliness, helplessness and trapped is what he sees in this ghost friend. He has nothing to lose. And even if he dies from this, maybe Charles can take over his body. And live a better life than him.
It’s a win-win.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. How do I give consent?” Alex asks into thin air.
Charles can't hide his smile when Alex really agree with this … Is he truly going to give his consent to use his body? Dear god, I promise I won’t kill this innocent kid and use his body as little as possible.
“OMG, you are giving me your consent ?! ...Here, repeat this sentence after me till you can see me laying on...no, sitting on the ground with my favorite sweater. “
He sits up and tries to make himself looks less messy, someone is going to look at him clearly with giving him consent. At least Alex would see a ghost with a fixed hair. A good first expression would probably make their face to face interaction less awkward.
“ repeat after this till you see me: I, Alex (your full name), agree to let Charles Lee possess me at my free will. Not because of outside force or threat by the ghost who is going to take control of my body temporarily.”
“If something goes wrong...Nah, I mean, who is there to miss.” Alex chuckles carefreely and repeats the phrase written on his screen.
“I, Alexander Hamilton, agree to let Charles Lee possess me at my free will. Not because of outside forces or threat by the ghost…” A drop of sweat trails down the side of his face. Alex is really reaching the end of this sentence. He has forgotten what it feels like for his heart to beat this fast, for him to feel the liveliness of expectation, “who is going to take control of my body temporarily.”
He shuts his eyes.
A connection suddenly appears right after Alex finishes his sentence. Charles can take control of Alex’s body without any barrier now. But he wants to wait till he finally can see him in the eyes. And make sure he still agree on doing it afterword.
“Alright, I think we have built that route for possession now… can you hear me? “
He asks curiously, trying to calm himself down from talking to a real human in five years. Hoping Alex would be able to hear him.
“ Do you… regret your decision now ?”
Alex’s eyes open as he is startled by the sudden voice in the previously quiet room. Following the direction of it, Alex sees a young man sitting on the floor.
A handsome face, symmetrical and nice to look at if not for the way blood is dripping over the left side of it. His ghost, Charles Lee, is wearing a large sweater with the faded writing of a university name. His skin is translucently pale, so pale that the dark eye bags are as pronounced as eye make-up.
“You are...Charles?” He reaches out to touch the ghost’s shoulder and it felt as if his hand passes through a block of ice. It’s a numbing feeling, strangely calm. If death is actually like this, Alex doesn’t see why he has anything to fear.
“No. I don’t regret it.” He offers his hand for a shake. “Not at all.”
“ Yep, I’m your local-very-dead ghost roommate, Charles Lee. “
He puts on a more relaxing smile when Alex start asking him questions instead of getting irrational about his present, he did meet a better human this time. Better than the last human who tried to kick him out with holy water (which was only a waste of money).
“ I’m glad that you didn’t freak out meeting me. You know, I don’t exactly look like a normal human. Do I give you a good first expression? Like my style so far ?”
He shakes Alex’s hand with his most steady handshake, greeting his temporarily human in a manner he hasn’t use for ages. Can’t help but gets exciting about having this opportunity enter his life, well, dead-life.
“ Are you sure you are ready for a possession though? I don’t feel you have enough energy for it. “ He asks after shaking Alex’s hand, noticing the condition of his current stage isn’t as good as he imagined before their connection.
“Let’s roll with it. I’m probably the best chance you’ve got.” Alex brushes off Charles’s concern for his health. “We’ll start soon. I’m gonna help you free yourself from regrets.”
Even though Alex is still living with his.
“ … Let’s start this tomorrow, I insist. We need to give your body some time to get used to our connection. “
He pats his new human on the shoulder and tried his best to still looks exciting. Like this connection between them only means the possession, nothing more.
But he knows nothing more about it, this is a completely new experience for him too. He has no idea what might happen next.
“both of us need some charging right now. Possession would work the best with a fully rested body. “
And so they slept.
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rebeccahpedersen · 6 years
Text
Going On Vacation!
TorontoRealtyBlog
Folks, I haven’t had a vacation since last August.
And as a thrice-divorced client once told me, “Don’t worry about your family, they’ll be fine!  Just keep working, and they’ll always be there when you get home.”
So with that in mind, we’re heading to Atlantis.  Yes!  Atlantis!
They say it’s a myth, but I just knew this wonderful underwater city existed…
I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to learn that the “Atlantis” we’re going to is a resort in the Bahamas, and not a secret, mysterious city that exists underwater, like in the above photo.
What the hell am I going to do with this Bare Velocity 5mm wetsuit?  Not to mention all the tanks of oxygen…
Yes, we’re going to Atlantis.
It took a lot of back and forth, but eventually we settled on this resort on Paradise Island, Bahamas.
It was where we initially started looking, but then Ramon just absolutely rocked my world, and threw our plans into disarray.
You know those “Live Chat” pop-ups that exist on most sites, including real estate websites?  Well the Atlantis website has a live-chat pop-up, and somebody named “Ramon” asked me if he could help, so I thought, “Okay, sure!”
I wrote, “Ramon, I see on the website that kids need to be at least 3-years-old to use a lot of the facilities in this extremely ‘child-friendly’ resort.  My daughter is about 1 1/2 years old, can she not play with the Lego, watch the movies, or pet the turtles?”
Ramon responded, “Thank you for your interest in Atlantis.  All the activities require that children must be at least 3-years-old.”
Somewhat defeated, and I guess, unsure of the reason for the requirement, I said, “But my 1 1/2 year old daughter plays Lego here in Toronto, and watches movies.”
Ramon repeated, “Unfortunately, all the activities require that children must be at least 3-years-old.”
So then I turned into a jerk and said, “Geez, Atlantis is marketed everywhere as this ‘family-friendly’ resort, I guess it’s not, eh?”
And amazingly, Ramon responded, “It is, just for families with children over 3-years-old.”
So I said, “Great, I’ll go to Florida.”
And Ramon said, “Thank you for choosing Atlantis!”
Hurt, and vindictive, I replied, “But I’m NOT choosing Atlantis, Ramon!”
He told me to have a great day, and closed the chat window, on me!
So with Atlantis out of the picture, we started to look for other places to go to – preferably ones that were more family-friendly.
My travel agent (yes, I have one…) suggested the “Sandals” for families, known as “Beaches.”  I guess the marketing people weren’t feeling original on the day they picked the name, but I digress…
Quite happy with Sandals in the past, my wife and I were encouraged by the idea of an all-inclusive resort, by the same company as Sandals, but for families!  The only problem was the locations.
Something called…………Zika Virus?
Turks & Caicos, Negril, Ocho Rio…
…zika, zika, zika.
And look, the odds are low, and depending on who you ask, it’s not an issue.
But with Baby Fleming V2.0 in the master plan, why risk it?
So with the islands out of the question, we started to look where most other people look: Florida.
I’m not a huge fan of Florida, I don’t know why.  Perhaps it’s because everybody goes to Florida, and I’m not really an assimilation/conformity kind of guy.  I’m also very binary, so I think if you’re going to do something, you should go all out.  And if I’m going to take a week off work, I should make it count, and go to a tropical island, rather than some random B- resort a swamp-like state.
So we started looking around, randomly Googling “best places to vacation for families in Florida,” and I realized just how many SEO experts, sitting in how many coding-caves across the world, were waiting for a sucker just like me.
We found a couple of places online in the Florida Keys that looked good, but when I showed my wife the series of over-water bridges and highways that connect the Keys, she freaked out.  I suppose all the facilities that are temporarily shut down because of Hurricane Irma didn’t help me plead my case…
Google took us everywhere from North Captiva Island, to Longboat Key and back.
But when my wife found some random resort that wasn’t even on the ocean, but rather on a small lake that looked like a swamp, I was so depressed by the idea that I said, “We need a new plan.”
I came home that evening, and my wife was beaming.
“I got it!  I have it all figured out!” she said.
And like the advertising gimmick has taught us to say over the years, she shouted, “We’re going to Disney World”
I forced a fake smile; who wouldn’t?  I love my wife, I’d go to Nunavut if she wanted to.
But the idea of going to Disney World didn’t set well with me.
You see, I’m a seasoned traveller, and I know that the one distinction you need to make at the very start of planning a get-away is to decide whether you’re going on a trip, or a vacation.
The two could not possibly be more different.
Who wants to do a vineyard tour in Italy?  Sound fun?
Well, that’s a trip.
That’s a grind.  A “schlep,” if you will.
It’s a long flight, it’s in a different time zone, and you’re constantly on the move, from town to town, riding buses, in and out of hotels, packing and unpacking.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful journey; a fantasy for many!  One that I’d love to embark upon one day.
But it’s not a vacation.  It’s a trip.
Now you might not want a vacation.  You might look at your cousins, who visit their grandparents’ condo twice per year, plop by the pool, sit on their phones all day, and then head to a strip mall for dinner every night, and think, “I have no interest in that.”  And I can’t say I blame you.
To each, their own, no doubt.  And there is truly something for everyone.
But right now, in my life, and looking at what’s best for my wife and child, I think we need to avoid a trip, and take a resting vacation.
So……..Disney World.  Right.
Buses to monorails, monorails to shuttles, shuttles to golf carts.  That’s a non-stop schlep, and the thought of doing that every day for a week made me cringe.
This trip is for me, but more importantly, it’s for my daughter, and for our family.  I don’t see my daughter as much as I’d like to, and at 17-months-old, it’s now that I can really “connect” with her, spending 24 hours per day together, for eight days.
As much as I liked the idea of Maya laughing at Goofy, or being wowed by Mickey, I know in my heart that she won’t remember any of this.  She’s just too young.
And buses, monorails, shuttles, and golf carts are going to wear her down.  Not to mention, wear my wife and I out.
My wife came to this conclusion on her own, thankfully!  I feared the plan from the get-go, and ultimately nature took its course.
So now what?  Where did we go from here?
I know this is the classic definition of “first word problems,” trust me.  The irony of not being able to find a suitable place to vacation is not lost on me.  This is just a story, so call it what it is.
But after two weeks of back-and-forth on locations, we finally came full circle.
And you know who made the decision in the end?  Our daughter.
Like most children her age, Maya seems to be completely and utterly enthralled by just about anything.  She could find a leaf on the ground outside, and play with it for an hour.
We were in Winners one day, and Maya was entertaining herself by picking up shoes, looking at herself in the mirror, and well, just about anything or anyone she came across.  My wife looked at me and said, “I’m pretty sure we could take her anywhere, and she would have a good time.”
We watched her move around, from item to item, fascinated by everything in her path.
And we soon realized that we didn’t need “Lego World” at Atlantis, or their “Sea Adventure” program for children 3-and-up for Maya to have a good time.  As my wife said, “We’ll probably walk from the room to the beach, and she’ll stop every ten feet to play with a stick.”
So in the end, we figured we may as well just go to Atlantis!
She can play with what’s allowed to, just as Ramon told me during our epic live-chat session.
She’ll make her own good time, as she always does, wherever she goes.
The weather is better than in Florida, it’s a direct flight, and believe it or not – it costs less than Disney World anyhow!
I am bringing my laptop with me.  It’s unavoidable in this business, but I’m looking forward to some quality time with the two special ladies in my life!
I won’t be posting new material until next Monday, but I won’t leave the blog to get stale – I’m going to turn back the clocks on a couple of old videos for Wednesday and Friday!
See you back on Monday the 30th!
The post Going On Vacation! appeared first on Toronto Real Estate Property Sales & Investments | Toronto Realty Blog by David Fleming.
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losewtrevs · 7 years
Text
Here’s How The Presidential Candidates Eat, Sleep And Work up
They say you first should be allowed care for yourselfbefore you can care for someone else.
That’s especially true for the responsibilities of chairman, it is about to change. Sometimes napping is space more beneficial than blearily taking on one more stack of documents and constructing important decisions while fatigued. Enormous commanders know this.
While it probably seems like there aren’t enough hours in a president’s daylight to focus on personal wellness, the practice is exactly what will make a person equipped to perform the persona to their best. President Obama’s most recently released health chronicles, for example, reveal that he’s in enormous determine and has even lowered his cholesterol during his presidency. His healthy diet and exercise regimen surely facilitates him dish the two countries every day.
If we want our chairwoman to be smart, responsible and effective, we need them to be well-rested, properly fed and endorphined-up from a good workout. All three of these measures of health can help keep the time-pressed and super-stressed from cracking under pressure.
We’ve reviewed the six persisting presidential candidates’ health attires for clues as to how they are likely keep up their wellness procedures while living in the White House( the gig does, after all, “re coming with” a personal chef and trainer ). See their attires below. Do you think any of them expect makeovers? Let us know in the comments section.
Hillary Clinton: Hot peppers and brisk strolls
Alissa Scheller
Food
Clinton’s diet isn’t as strict as her mostly-vegan husband’s; her regimen had not yet been labels and is made of common sense. Clinton’s aides mentioned her rule of thumb is “If it gazes bad for you, it was likely is, ” the Associated Press reported.
One of the Democratic presidential hopeful’s particular obsessions is peppers: she munches on raw jalapenos. In knowledge, one aide-de-camp responded “she dined them like potato chips” during her 2008 expedition. It’s likewise been reported that she keeps hot sauce in her pouch( swag ). And Clinton might be on to something: Spicy meat may help with weight loss and can lower a person’s peril for congestive heart failure by reducing levels of bad cholesterol. She’s also been known to chow down on Boca Burgers, which are vegetarian soy-based protein patties.
Moves
Yoga and water aerobics are her exerts of choice, Clinton told People magazine in 2014. She’ll take brisk steps when those options aren’t available.
Sleep
Clinton seems to know sleep is important, but declares she’s short on it. “Don’t get enough of it, always crave more of it, ” she told MSNBC’s Andrea Mitchell. Back in January, she told talk demo multitude Jimmy Fallon that she can “sleep on require” and takes 10 -minute siestums whenever possible. Smart move, though we hope her automated sleep isn’t an expression of the results of sleep deprivation.
Bernie Sanders: Paleo and wood chopping
Alissa Scheller
Food
According to his daughter, Sanders was “paleo before paleo was a happening.” The democratic nominee subsists primarily on meat and vegetables. He enjoys scrambled eggs for breakfast and likes driving the grill at dinnertime. We can’t tell for certain, but possibilities are Sanders’ diet isn’t too restrictive: Last-place month, we checked him taste his eponymous Ben& Jerry’s ice cream flavor on “The View.” For the record, he seemed to like it.
Moves
Sanders is not your median sedentary American. He’s old-fashioned in the sense that he chops his own wood and does his own grocery browse, which moves it seem that he’s shall include participation in physical pleasure more often than the batch of us. In high school, young Sanders was a track stellar. According to his medical record, he’s in “very good health” and destroys alcohol “infrequently.”
Sleep
Sanders sleep procedure is apparently kept undercover( s ). What we do know is that he doesn’t stumbled the snooze button, which is a good habit to stick with for the sake of productivity.
John Kasich: Pasta and golf
Alissa Scheller
Food
“My favorite food is pasta, ” Kasich told The Skimm. “I guess it’s not good for us, but I don’t care.” We all have our favorite less-than-healthy indulgences, don’t we? It’s been noted that the Republican governor has snacked on a cheese lodge( wonder if he’s a stringer or a biter ?), and he’s documented himself experiencing a sizable illustration of chicken offstages and a hot dog — sans ketchup.
Moves
Kasich enjoys playing golf, and once said he fees more attention to golf than Donald Trump’s poll quantities (# same .) Meanwhile, his wife Karen harbours physical the actions of high regard. She developed free 10-minute rehearsal videos geared towards elementary school children to get Ohio minors moving.
Sleep
The jury’s out on Kasich’s sleep habits: He doesn’t rely on the snooze button, but he likewise doesn’t talk about sleep much.
Ted Cruz: A serious snooze-button dependency and no guacamole
Alissa Scheller
Food
You can stir Ted Cruz happy with a beer of Guinness and beef enchiladas, but make sure to leave the avocado behind. “I loathe avocado, ” he told the Des Moines Register. “It’s the only meat I dislike, and I detest it passionately.”
That’s too bad, to review the creamy fruit’s serious health benefits. He likewise classified avocado as a vegetable, displaying a lack of clarity on superfoods. For breakfast, Cruz affection to snack a McDonald’s egg white sandwich.
Health food isn’t one of the Republican candidate’s talking objects. Cruz has few reservations about reversing first lady Michelle Obama’s work becoming institution lunches healthier. At a rallying in Iowa, Cruz said if elected, he would bring french fries back to the cafeteria. He also said he would not fund gluten-free options for the military.
Moves
According to one fitness site, Cruz guides, filches weight and sometimes plays basketball. He wears a Fitbitand likes to walk during his telephone call, CBS reported. While it’s unsure whether he bends his head in namaste himself, Cruz is selling a $35 American-made yoga mat on his expedition website.
Sleep
Cruz is a night owl, according to his wife Heidi. He tends to eat dinner around 10 p.m ., is known to be more energetic in the afternoon and is scarcely a morning person. He told The Skimm that he’s got a relationship with the snooze button. “It is a bad habit I have had my whole life, ” he mentioned. “When I was in college, my college roommates super glued the snooze button down so that I couldn’t hit snooze again.”
Marco Rubio: GSP( Gym, Sleep, Pizza )
Alissa Scheller
Food
Rubio “likes enchiladas of different kinds, ” he told The Skimm. Tex-Mex is his favorite cuisine, but the Republican candidate is also a pizza fanatic. For breakfast he snacks “two hard-boiled eggs, whole-wheat toast, blueberries with honey, orange juice and pitch-black coffee, ” he told People.
Moves
Rubio remains up with his fitness while on awareness-raising campaigns by exercising early in the morning at hotel gyms. He’ll do “anything that gets your heart rate up for thirty minutes, ” in the mornings. He played a year of college football, and to solidify his love for the athletic( and for other reasons, very, we envisage ), he marriage a former Miami Dolphins cheerleader.
Sleep
Rubio attempts to get a solid six hours of shuteye. He might benefit from a few more minutes, but his dedication to routine is admirable.
Donald Trump: Snacking and talking
Alissa Scheller
Food
Trump has said repeatedly that he doesn’t booze any form of booze, ever. This GOP-er has a soft spot for bacon and eggs; he opts the bacon medium and the eggs over-well, but says he often bounces breakfast altogether.
In December of last year Trump told People that he had dropped 15 pounds on the campaign trail because of a lack of appetite. Instead, he replied, he often simply snacks.
Moves
His primary anatomy of exercise is say a lot, apparently: “I never thought it, but speaking is almost a formation of employ, ” Trump told People. “It’s very exhilarating. Last nighttime I was in Knoxville for 12,000 parties. When you are speaking to 12,000 great people, you don’t feel like eating.”
As for traditionally bred rehearsal, Trump golfs. He answers while some people might not consider it to be workout, “It deters you away from the refrigerator because you’re out on the course.”
He likewise told Men’s Health that “taking care of your form is a significant happening for love” because “You don’t want to be a liability. You don’t want to become somebody’s patient.”
Sleep
Trump is a classifiable sleep shamer. He credits his success to being awake most of the day: Presidential candidates sleeps for only three to four hours each night.
“How does somebody that’s sleeping 12 and 14 hours per day contest with someone that’s sleeping three or four? ” he pronounced, according to The Daily News. Let us count the ways.
Editor‘s note: Donald Trump is a serial liar, rampant xenophobe, racist, misogynist, birther and bully who has repeatedly pledged to ban all Muslims — 1.6 billion members of an entire religion — from entering the U.S .
The post Here’s How The Presidential Candidates Eat, Sleep And Work up appeared first on loseweightreviews.org.
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losewtrevs · 7 years
Text
Here’s How The Presidential Candidates Eat, Sleep And Work up
They say you first should be allowed care for yourselfbefore you can care for someone else.
That’s especially true for the responsibilities of chairman, it is about to change. Sometimes napping is space more beneficial than blearily taking on one more stack of documents and constructing important decisions while fatigued. Enormous commanders know this.
While it probably seems like there aren’t enough hours in a president’s daylight to focus on personal wellness, the practice is exactly what will make a person equipped to perform the persona to their best. President Obama’s most recently released health chronicles, for example, reveal that he’s in enormous determine and has even lowered his cholesterol during his presidency. His healthy diet and exercise regimen surely facilitates him dish the two countries every day.
If we want our chairwoman to be smart, responsible and effective, we need them to be well-rested, properly fed and endorphined-up from a good workout. All three of these measures of health can help keep the time-pressed and super-stressed from cracking under pressure.
We’ve reviewed the six persisting presidential candidates’ health attires for clues as to how they are likely keep up their wellness procedures while living in the White House( the gig does, after all, “re coming with” a personal chef and trainer ). See their attires below. Do you think any of them expect makeovers? Let us know in the comments section.
Hillary Clinton: Hot peppers and brisk strolls
Alissa Scheller
Food
Clinton’s diet isn’t as strict as her mostly-vegan husband’s; her regimen had not yet been labels and is made of common sense. Clinton’s aides mentioned her rule of thumb is “If it gazes bad for you, it was likely is, ” the Associated Press reported.
One of the Democratic presidential hopeful’s particular obsessions is peppers: she munches on raw jalapenos. In knowledge, one aide-de-camp responded “she dined them like potato chips” during her 2008 expedition. It’s likewise been reported that she keeps hot sauce in her pouch( swag ). And Clinton might be on to something: Spicy meat may help with weight loss and can lower a person’s peril for congestive heart failure by reducing levels of bad cholesterol. She’s also been known to chow down on Boca Burgers, which are vegetarian soy-based protein patties.
Moves
Yoga and water aerobics are her exerts of choice, Clinton told People magazine in 2014. She’ll take brisk steps when those options aren’t available.
Sleep
Clinton seems to know sleep is important, but declares she’s short on it. “Don’t get enough of it, always crave more of it, ” she told MSNBC’s Andrea Mitchell. Back in January, she told talk demo multitude Jimmy Fallon that she can “sleep on require” and takes 10 -minute siestums whenever possible. Smart move, though we hope her automated sleep isn’t an expression of the results of sleep deprivation.
Bernie Sanders: Paleo and wood chopping
Alissa Scheller
Food
According to his daughter, Sanders was “paleo before paleo was a happening.” The democratic nominee subsists primarily on meat and vegetables. He enjoys scrambled eggs for breakfast and likes driving the grill at dinnertime. We can’t tell for certain, but possibilities are Sanders’ diet isn’t too restrictive: Last-place month, we checked him taste his eponymous Ben& Jerry’s ice cream flavor on “The View.” For the record, he seemed to like it.
Moves
Sanders is not your median sedentary American. He’s old-fashioned in the sense that he chops his own wood and does his own grocery browse, which moves it seem that he’s shall include participation in physical pleasure more often than the batch of us. In high school, young Sanders was a track stellar. According to his medical record, he’s in “very good health” and destroys alcohol “infrequently.”
Sleep
Sanders sleep procedure is apparently kept undercover( s ). What we do know is that he doesn’t stumbled the snooze button, which is a good habit to stick with for the sake of productivity.
John Kasich: Pasta and golf
Alissa Scheller
Food
“My favorite food is pasta, ” Kasich told The Skimm. “I guess it’s not good for us, but I don’t care.” We all have our favorite less-than-healthy indulgences, don’t we? It’s been noted that the Republican governor has snacked on a cheese lodge( wonder if he’s a stringer or a biter ?), and he’s documented himself experiencing a sizable illustration of chicken offstages and a hot dog — sans ketchup.
Moves
Kasich enjoys playing golf, and once said he fees more attention to golf than Donald Trump’s poll quantities (# same .) Meanwhile, his wife Karen harbours physical the actions of high regard. She developed free 10-minute rehearsal videos geared towards elementary school children to get Ohio minors moving.
Sleep
The jury’s out on Kasich’s sleep habits: He doesn’t rely on the snooze button, but he likewise doesn’t talk about sleep much.
Ted Cruz: A serious snooze-button dependency and no guacamole
Alissa Scheller
Food
You can stir Ted Cruz happy with a beer of Guinness and beef enchiladas, but make sure to leave the avocado behind. “I loathe avocado, ” he told the Des Moines Register. “It’s the only meat I dislike, and I detest it passionately.”
That’s too bad, to review the creamy fruit’s serious health benefits. He likewise classified avocado as a vegetable, displaying a lack of clarity on superfoods. For breakfast, Cruz affection to snack a McDonald’s egg white sandwich.
Health food isn’t one of the Republican candidate’s talking objects. Cruz has few reservations about reversing first lady Michelle Obama’s work becoming institution lunches healthier. At a rallying in Iowa, Cruz said if elected, he would bring french fries back to the cafeteria. He also said he would not fund gluten-free options for the military.
Moves
According to one fitness site, Cruz guides, filches weight and sometimes plays basketball. He wears a Fitbitand likes to walk during his telephone call, CBS reported. While it’s unsure whether he bends his head in namaste himself, Cruz is selling a $35 American-made yoga mat on his expedition website.
Sleep
Cruz is a night owl, according to his wife Heidi. He tends to eat dinner around 10 p.m ., is known to be more energetic in the afternoon and is scarcely a morning person. He told The Skimm that he’s got a relationship with the snooze button. “It is a bad habit I have had my whole life, ” he mentioned. “When I was in college, my college roommates super glued the snooze button down so that I couldn’t hit snooze again.”
Marco Rubio: GSP( Gym, Sleep, Pizza )
Alissa Scheller
Food
Rubio “likes enchiladas of different kinds, ” he told The Skimm. Tex-Mex is his favorite cuisine, but the Republican candidate is also a pizza fanatic. For breakfast he snacks “two hard-boiled eggs, whole-wheat toast, blueberries with honey, orange juice and pitch-black coffee, ” he told People.
Moves
Rubio remains up with his fitness while on awareness-raising campaigns by exercising early in the morning at hotel gyms. He’ll do “anything that gets your heart rate up for thirty minutes, ” in the mornings. He played a year of college football, and to solidify his love for the athletic( and for other reasons, very, we envisage ), he marriage a former Miami Dolphins cheerleader.
Sleep
Rubio attempts to get a solid six hours of shuteye. He might benefit from a few more minutes, but his dedication to routine is admirable.
Donald Trump: Snacking and talking
Alissa Scheller
Food
Trump has said repeatedly that he doesn’t booze any form of booze, ever. This GOP-er has a soft spot for bacon and eggs; he opts the bacon medium and the eggs over-well, but says he often bounces breakfast altogether.
In December of last year Trump told People that he had dropped 15 pounds on the campaign trail because of a lack of appetite. Instead, he replied, he often simply snacks.
Moves
His primary anatomy of exercise is say a lot, apparently: “I never thought it, but speaking is almost a formation of employ, ” Trump told People. “It’s very exhilarating. Last nighttime I was in Knoxville for 12,000 parties. When you are speaking to 12,000 great people, you don’t feel like eating.”
As for traditionally bred rehearsal, Trump golfs. He answers while some people might not consider it to be workout, “It deters you away from the refrigerator because you’re out on the course.”
He likewise told Men’s Health that “taking care of your form is a significant happening for love” because “You don’t want to be a liability. You don’t want to become somebody’s patient.”
Sleep
Trump is a classifiable sleep shamer. He credits his success to being awake most of the day: Presidential candidates sleeps for only three to four hours each night.
“How does somebody that’s sleeping 12 and 14 hours per day contest with someone that’s sleeping three or four? ” he pronounced, according to The Daily News. Let us count the ways.
Editor‘s note: Donald Trump is a serial liar, rampant xenophobe, racist, misogynist, birther and bully who has repeatedly pledged to ban all Muslims — 1.6 billion members of an entire religion — from entering the U.S .
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