#no but actually it’s anniversary weekend of my dads death and i am just. i will never recover from that and

[vvyrmwood]

scream multiple customers tonight have commented i don’t look well/look sad. u would be to if u worked here

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER ELEVEN- TOJI

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 Life has really been fucking with me these last six weeks. Work’s hell. The apartment we live in went up by four hundred dollars. And to make matters worse, Megumi and I have been rockier than ever. 

 That’s the thing that’s bothering me the most.

 It’s over simple shit, too. 

 I try my best to be a laid back parent and only go full on dad mode when needed, but I think the kid has taken advantage of that. All I ask is three things from Megumi:

 Don’t get into fights, and if you do, don’t get caught. 

 School night curfew is eight. Weekends are eleven.

 And lastly, tell me your whereabouts.

 But what does he do instead? Miss curfew. Leave the house without telling me where he’s going, and now he’s on a two week-suspension from school since he got into a fight. 

 Grant it the fight was justify because some kids were fucking with him and talking shit about his lack of English, but shit, Megumi. 

 At least he won. 

 One side of me was saying that’s my boy, and the other side had to ground him. 

 Let’s just say he wasn’t too happy with me after that. 

 I’m surprised he actually listened to me, though. But with him listening, I’ve been getting the silent treatment, no eating meals together, and been avoided like I’m the plague. 

 Parenting is not a walk in the park, I know that. Especially when you’re a single parent. When times like this hit, I think of my late wife more than ever. 

 With her death anniversary right around the corner, I can’t help but miss her and wish she was by my side. 

 I can’t do this shit alone. I was not raised in a loving environment, and considering the fact that my old man was an abusive drunk that used me as his punching bag, I damn sure don’t know what the fuck it feels like to have a father. 

 A mom? Don’t know either. Old man wasn’t faithful and was sleeping around with different women, so my mom could be dead or alive. Who knows? 

 My late wife knew all of this, not the severity, but she knew I had a shitty family. Yet she managed to see something good in a motherfucker like me, to the point we had a kid together.

 A kid that fucking hates me. And I’m the only one to blame. 

 God, maybe I should listen to Kong for once. I’m forty-two. Shit, maybe it is time to settle down and look for a housewife. Someone who’s willing to help raise a fifteen-year-old boy. 

 No, what the fuck am I saying? Since when do I listen to that fucker?

 Never. I trust him, though. Hell, do I really have a choice since he helped me take care of Megumi when I was going through my episodes in the early years of my wife’s death? 

 But my kid is my responsibility. Getting a woman involved isn’t going to help my relationship with Megumi. That’s some shit I need to fix myself. 

 Kong and I have one unorthodox ass relationship, but he’s the only bastard I actually consider a friend, and I know he means well. 

 He is Megumi’s godfather after all. Besides, the last thing I want to do is to ever make Megumi feel like I’m trying to replace his mom. Far from it. 

 Maybe loneliness is just catching up to my old ass.m, and the only woman I think of breaking me from my no relationship rule is Y/N. 

 Y/N fucking L /N. 

 That woman drives me insane in more ways than one. 

 After our first date over a month ago, we’ve been talking nonstop. Texting. Calling. Casual dates every now and there when time allows us. If I’m being real, Y/N is the only reason why I haven’t ripped my fucking hair out. 

 People would usually turn to alcohol to depend on the burning sensation it gives you to get drunk when feeling stressed. But me? Y/N is who I get drunk off of. Her energy is fucking addicting, and the reassurance she gives me… who know I needed so much of it. 

Like any other man, I don’t turn to anyone to help with my problems. I’m a prideful motherfucker who has the ego the size of a galaxy. However, I don’t have to be the way around Y/N. I sound sappy as shit, I know. 

 Guess that’s what happens when you become vulnerable. 

 The only reason why I haven’t had sex with her yet.

 I know myself. When I was younger, I only saw sex as a way to make extra cash when I was struggling after I got disowned by the Zen’in. The older I got, sex became more meaningless to me. I can be balls deep in pussy, no matter how good it is, and have no type of feelings attached. Me making a woman come or them making me come doesn’t mean I’ll start buying them roses and shit. 

 It wouldn’t be the same with Y/N. 

 Not saying I’m on the verge of falling in love with her, let alone loving her. But seeing how much we talk, how jealous I fucking get, especially after figuring out she works at the same school as her ex-fiancé, I don’t want any other fucker to even breathe the same air as her.

 Not even myself, but I’ll still be selfish enough to do it.

 That’s the thing about Y/N. I feel myself growing more selfish when it comes to her. I want her time and energy to only be for me. She’s mine without her knowing and I’m planning on keeping it that way. I can admit that’s probably a dick move, but I can’t find myself falling in love again. 

At least, I’m forcing myself not to.

 Hearing her moan my name. Seeing her face when she comes. Knowing what it feels to have that sweet, tight, warm fucking pussy clench around my fingers. I’ll become a starved and possessive man the moment she’s like that around my dick. 

 I’ll catch feelings.

 I’ll want her above me, beneath me, all over me twenty-four-seven. I’m not an easy lover. I can admit to that.

 But that won’t stop me from…

 No, I won’t say that.

 It’s strong. Whatever emotion I feel about Y/N, and I can’t help but think it has something to do with her being so damn familiar. The more I talk to her, the more I know who she is. Maybe in another lifetime I’ve loved her before. 

 Even saying that in my head sounds crazy as shit. The dreams about her aren't helping, either.

 “Get a hold of yourself, Fushiguro,” I mutter to myself. I look at the time to see it’s eleven thirty. “She should be on her free hour right now.” 

 Maybe a phone call wouldn’t hurt.

 “I’m busy,” I grunt.

 I couldn’t even call Y/N before Kong called me to fucking be clingy. He claims he only calls me to check on the kid, but Megumi has his own phone. 

 “Mad because I’m not your girlfriend? Sorry, I had you first, Fushiguro.” I hear him puffing out smoke from his cigarette. “Be grateful you have a fucking friend to check on you, you fucking jackass.”

 I chuckle, sarcastically saying, “Awe, I consider myself very lucky.”

 “Fuck you.”

 “Sorry, not interested,” I replied. And this is what I mean by unorthodox friendship. “Assuming you got some information for me?” After that Zen’in fuck purchased the club ownership last month, I had Kong do some digging for me.

 All the bullshit he was spewing about Naobito forcing everyone in that family who doesn’t have a kid, to have one, and taking interest in finding Megumi, I couldn’t take shit like that lightly.

 Not when my kid is potentially involved.

 Knowing how those Zen’ins’ get down, they always find a way to get what they want. Even if it results in blood.

 “I found some files about that Naoya shitface you told me about… Looks like he’s the real deal,” he says.

 “Meaning?”

 “Meaning he is your cousin. Looks like your old man’s brother had some unwanted kids of his own.”

 “Having kids in the family just to leave them dry is a fucking ritual in that shitty ass family.” I get up from bed and go to the kitchen to grab a ginger ale. “What else you find out?”

 “Zen'in owns half of the real estate in Tokyo,” he tells me, clicking his tongue. “Those bastards keep growing and growing by the minute. So if what this Naoya is saying is true, I can only imagine Naobito is doing this to have the city fear the name Zen’in, even after he’s six feet under.”

 I scoff. “For an ego stroker? So what the fuck does this have to do with my kid?”

 “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

  Over my dead fucking body if they think they could come even twenty feet near Megumi. I have no problem going back to that violent lifestyle that I’m trying to escape when it comes to protecting my kid.

 Actually, I’m hoping that they do because I’ve been itching for a stress relief and permanently getting rid of those Zen’in fucks just might be the way to do it.

 Maybe I should pay them a visit on my trip to Japan in a few months.

 I run my hand through my hair and sigh. “Alright. Keep me posted.” An incoming call comes through and I see Y/N’s name flashing my screen. “Gotta go.”

 “Your girlfriend’s callin-” I disconnected our line before he finished his bullshit to answer Y/N.

 “I’m so close to fucking pulling these braids out and choking my boss with them.” Ha, that’s a funny way to say hello.

 “I’m trying to wrap my head around why hearing you threaten to kill someone is turning me on?” I tease.

 She lets out a soft breath. “I’m sorry, big guy. Work is being a pain in my ass right now.”

 “I see that. You cursed twice. That’s something expected from me.”

 “Well, it’s kind of inevitable when you’re a high school teacher,” she argues. “And actually, no. I expect four curse words in under a minute from you. So I think my two words will be alright.”

 I smile while walking back to my room and close the door behind me. “Talk to me, sweets. What’s going on?”

 “Other than finding out that my name was unknowingly submitted to take part in the state’s teachers summit, nothing really.”

“Is it that bad?” 

 “No. It’s actually a good opportunity to voice your concerns as a teacher to the school board, but quite frankly, I’m tired of going. Only one teacher is selected every year to represent each school in the county and it’s always me.”

 “And what is this summit shit? Why do they need teacher representatives?” I hear her smile through the phone when she explains the summit, and I’m pretty sure it’s because of me cursing already. “Probably this isn’t what you want to hear, but I can see why you’re always chosen. You speak your mind well, and I can see the passion you have when it comes to your students.”

 “Well, yeah, but every teacher should be that way,” she counters. “And the summit this year is four hours away from us, so they made it a weekend convention. A weekend, Toji?” 

 I arch my brow. “And who submitted your name?” Her silence tells me my answer. “You sure this fucker isn’t trying to win you back? Abusing his power as your boss to get you to himself for the weekend seems like a man move I probably would’ve done, too.”

 “You would?” she incredulously asks.

 “When it comes to you? Absolutely. Zero questions asked.” I can almost guarantee the silence from her again is because she’s blushing, something I find fucking adorable about her. “You there, Miss L/N?”

 “Toji, I’m at work,” she answers.

 “Admitting that your mind is in the gutter?”

 “I-uh, no. Just reminding you to get your head out of it.”

 I tip my head back and laugh. “Cute. So when’s the summit?”

 “In three months.”

 “And you can’t pull out?”

 “Unfortunately, no. Unless I can prove that it’s due to a medical or family emergency, I’m out of luck.” No doubt in my mind that her ex pulled this shit intentionally. I mean, I get it. If I lost someone like Y/N as my fiancée, I would be going through hell and back until she was mine again. 

 But too bad for this fucker that isn’t the case anymore, and I don’t tread lightly when it comes to people fucking with what’s mine.

 Mine, that’s exactly what Y/N is.

 “I’m way too hungry for this crap,” she says, pulling me from my possessive musings. 

 “And you didn’t eat because?”

 “Someone kept me up last night on the phone, so I overslept and couldn’t get a decent breakfast before work this morning.” 

 I chuckle, remembering our two a.m. conversations that turned into her masturbating while I was talking her through it. “I’m sure that person is sorry.”

 “Doubt it.”

  I look at the time again to see it’s noon. “What time is your free hour over?” 

 “One. Why?”

 “Grab lunch with me.”

 She playfully hums to consider my last minute invitation. “I guess I can squeeze you in.”

 “Squeeze me in?” I mock her response while laughing. “Appreciate it, Miss L/N.”

 “I’m sure you can find a way to show me your appreciation.”

 I smirk. “Forgot you were at work?”

 “Whatever, Mr. Fushiguro. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

 “Alright, alright. I’ll see you,” is the last thing I say before disconnecting the call.

 Smiling to myself like a fucking lovesick idiot knowing that I’m about to see Y/N has me surprised myself. Like I said earlier, this woman drives me insane.

 And I think I’ll grow to not mind it.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

no discussion question this chapter. but would love to hear your thoughts ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Pick a fic 2/5

Green In My Costume: Dick Grayson talks about his parents' death to Donna, referencing an old circus superstition to place the blame on himself. (batam/fab five)

Quintennial: Tim invites Owen to visit their fathers' graves on the fifth anniversary of their death. (batfam/flashfam/flash rogues; canon divergent)

the ticking of the clock: Jason doesn't remember enrolling or arriving at his new boarding school, but he quickly realizes he's more of a prisoner than a student. (batfam; dark academia/boarding school AU)

under an indigo sky: AU where Natalia Knight is a movie star who does a movie with rags to riches actor, Jason Todd. She develops a close bond with him, wanting to become his mother. (batfam; actors AU)

Never Clearer Than This: AU where Jason witnesses/causes Bruce's death the night he steals the wheels off the Batmobile. (batfam; canon divergent)

Stage Lights: Lonnie works the lights and special effects for the Gotham Dance Academy. He notices something strange going on with one of the dancers, but he's conflicted on whether or not it's a good or bad change. (batfam; JayLonnie; ballet AU/no capes AU)

Shuttered Windows: On-again off-again couple, Jason and Laney meet up for a family trip after a prank forces them to share a room for the weekend. (batfam/superfam; JayLaney; no capes AU/no powers AU/vacation AU)

✨Fic Previews Under The Cut ✨

Green In My Costume:

“I think back to when everything started to go wrong, and it started with that costume,” Dick whispered. Donna reached out to touch Dick’s shoulder, but she drew back, knowing it would only make things worse. He drank orange juice out of the bottle as he took an aspirin. 

“You know that’s not—.”

“What if it is? Maybe I’m cursed because I dared to laugh in the face of tradition. I told my mom it was a silly superstition. I insisted on it. Now, she’s dead. Dad’s dead. Jason is dead. What do I attribute that to? Do you really believe it’s a coincidence that everyone I love that puts on that costume dies?” Dick interrupted. Donna sat on the other side of his kitchen island, frowning as he took swigs from his orange juice bottle. “Jason was fifteen years old, Donna.” 

Quintennial:

“Oh no, I don’t drink—.” 

“You do tonight. Just hold onto it if you don’t want to,” Owen replied. 

Tim took the flask, holding onto it as he sat on the rooftop of the mausoleum overlooking the graveyard. Owen sat beside him. “Why did you invite me?” Owen questioned. “I thought I was the last person you’d want to—.” 

“We both lost our fathers, Owen. It wasn’t your doing. It wasn’t mine. You tried to put it aside for me the last time I saw you. I wasn’t ready but I am now,” Tim confessed. 

“Okay. I know we might never be friends, but I—. It’s okay to grieve together. Isn’t it?” Owen questioned. Tim nodded, and Owen took the flask.

the ticking of the clock:

This doesn’t make sense. The only time we don’t hear the white noise machines is during lunch. I thought I heard a metronome in the background the first day, but I’m not so sure now. 

I sit at a table with children my age, and I wonder why they’re so calm about all of this. I’m so nervous I realize I’m not breathing, but everything in me feels tense and tight. The four girls at the table talked amongst each other, but one of them stopped to look at me. I caught the look in her eye. It wasn’t flirtatious or malicious. She acknowledged my worries. “Look for the breaks,” she whispered, “But for now, they’re talking about the morning bulletin.”

I took a breath, trying to relax, and she smiled before returning to her conversation. I didn’t understand what she meant, but I knew she saw the same problems in the school that I did.

under an indigo sky:

“It’s a lot of work, but I liked it. Actually, there was a minute where I was a little bit scared… Because there was a minute where I really had to tear into her, and they cut the scene, and I couldn’t stop shaking and crying. I was under the assumption that you cut the scene and it just stops, and you go back to normal. That was something 

“I had to get used to it during filming, but Natalia was super supportive. After scenes, she’d sit with me for a minute—. And she insisted on it. She would take me to wash my hands, and it was like um—. It was like we were washing our characters off. Natalia’s great with the mental part of it,” Jason complimented me. I smiled at him.

Never Clearer Than This:

“I know it’s my fault,” I whispered. Nightwing looked at me, blinking hard. “I can’t turn myself in because the whole city’s gonna want me dead. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared to go home—.” 

“Hold on. Hold on… Wait. How do you—? I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” Nightwing interrupted. 

“I stole his tires last night. I know—. I know he would’ve been safe if he could’ve used his car. I took his tires… He couldn’t get away. I didn’t mean to get him killed. I—. Honestly—.” 

Nightwing extended a hand to me. “You can’t stay here by yourself… Do you wanna come with me? I’ll make sure nothing happens to you,” Nightwing promised. I don’t know why, but I believed him. I took his hand, and he led me out of the boiler room. I followed him up the stairs and out into the alley. He gave me a helmet. “I’ll get you something to eat once we stop… And how do you know Batman’s dead?”

Stage Lights:

His lithe form glides across the floor, his arms stretching out toward a blur of color. The girls sped around him, but he was the star of the show. There was an agony on his face that could not be feigned. Starry sparkles of dewdrops in his eyes. I hate to say it, but every time I switched the lights from blue to purple, I hungrily awaited the single perfect tear drop that escaped his eye. I loved rehearsal because it gave me an excuse to watch him in all his glory. Mysterious and more raven-like than boy. 

Every moment on stage felt special. After rehearsal, I’d turn the lights off, and he’d stay. Sometimes, he’d sit downstage and eat a sandwich, letting his feet dangle. I wasn’t afraid to approach. I knew he didn’t want to be bothered. Something kept him separate from everyone else, and it wasn’t any of my business… Until it was.

[tarnishedxknight]

{out of dalmasca} Why is there always not enough time to write?! I feel like I've been writing all night, yet I've gotten hardly anything done. Argh. I have easily 20 asks and about as many drafts that I wanted to all get done tonight, haha. I have so much muse, but it's 5:30 AM, I need sleep, and I really need to rest my eye. I'm trying to push and do more but it's getting difficult to make words, and some of these asks and replies I really want to put thought into, not just rush through. So yeah, it's bedtime, but there's no way I'm waiting until Thursday to do more for this blog. The muses are too strong. XD

I'd say I'll continue here Saturday, but I'm supposed to be writing for my mumu, and I'm actually not sure how much time I'm going to have to write tomorrow. It's the anniversary of my mom's death, and I will likely be spending a lot of time with my dad to make sure he's okay. It's always a sad day for us. So... hmm. I can either just write for this blog on Sat if I have time, and bump my mumu to Sun, or write more for this blog on Sun. Not sure what I want to do. My Sunday muses are still pretty quiet, though, so that's why I'm suggesting making more time for this blog this weekend. I gotta go where the muse is, heh.

I'll see how much time I have tomorrow and what I want to do. I'm leaning towards mumu on Sat and this blog again on Sun, but we'll see. It also depends on how my eye is feeling. It was better during the day today but then at night it got bad again, so who knows. For now, I sleep.

[wondrouswendy]

feeling very doom and gloom in the chili’s tonight

Tomorrow is my dad’s birthday. For the past week I feel like I’ve been feeling all the pent up grief I’ve been holding in since the anniversary of his death last year. It’s really silly to say but I was watching a lot of defunctland over the weekend and just thinking about how much I loved going on amusement park rides with my dad because he was the parent who was willing to go on the fun rides. I remember going on things like Splash Mountain together and really loving it. Being carried on his shoulders so I didn’t have to wade through the crowds.

I read about grief in the second year and I was surprised to see people saying it’s actually worse than the first year. But I think I am in that stage. Realizing all the things I’m going to miss out on. My dad wasn’t perfect by any means but he was part of the family. I sometimes wonder if his illness is what changed his personality around the time he retired. Like if he had it before he was diagnosed formally.

I’m just generally feeling depressed. Stuff isn’t hitting the same way.

Classic hasn’t been as fun despite how much I do -in theory- love Ulduar as a raid. I feel like my character is fun to play, but gearing has been miserable. My parses are purple to legendary but it’s like so what, arms is still bottom tier dps.

On the writing front I have ideas of things I want to accomplish, but feeling a little caught. Low energy. I was rejected from a zine I really wanted to be a writing mod for and it’s kind of taken a toll on my morale. Then all the stuff with the Apex zine has me feeling undervalued in something that is a hobby… but also some major recognition would have been awesome.

On the job front, I feel miserable every time I scroll through listings. I feel like the days are blurring and I’m getting further and further behind. I don’t want to take a job outside of my field just for the sake of it. I’ve applied to writing jobs, museum jobs, archival jobs. It just feels like I don’t stand out enough.

Then I’m seeing family and my cousins who are successful in their jobs and I’m the loser family member who went to grad school and hasn’t made anything of it.

I feel like I have good days and bad days. But I feel directionless outside of my hobbies. Like I’m not amounting to anything meaningful.

I feel like I have good days and then very bad days. Just barely getting by.

[k-writer1998]

Who Said Love Was Easy? (2/12)

      There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 1.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      I’ve been spending more and more time at the pub, partly because I was still trying to coax the weary Jeongin into friendship but also Jaehyung has been inviting me to come over more, his nosy-neighbor-senses kicking in. I’ve nearly broken Jeongin though cause he’s warmed up sufficiently since running into him. Gahyeon on the other hand seems to be cautious around me but as the saying goes “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” It wasn’t like she was any bad, if anything I could see why Jeongin was so infatuated with her. She gives off girl-next-door vibes minus the naivety. Like Jeongin, she brought in a lot of customers with that personality but as the only female server a lot of guys come through in hopes to be served by her. That meant Jeongin’s eyes were constantly on her, ready to step in at any given moment.

“It’ll be faster if you just start barking at people. Then everyone would think you’re crazy and people won’t pay attention to her. Are you trying to burn holes into her skull?”

“Can you not for one day y/n?” he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll stop if you stop first,” I wink before adding, “If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way Chan, Younghyun, and Jaehyung would be there in seconds you know.”

“There’s just been a lot more creeps lately and it’s been really packed.”

“It can’t be helped. It’s summer vacation for college students so everyone’s going out to de-stress from exams. Why so overprotective anyways?”

“She got bullied in high school. She’s the type to say what she wants so a lot of the girls didn’t like her and a lot of the guys bad mouthed her because she rejected them bluntly.”

“Oh? she looks so pleasant I would’ve taken her as a pushover.”

“Wait why am I even telling you this?” He blinked a few times at the realization.

“Because we’re good friends obviously,” I leaned forward with a smile.

“Whatever, I’m telling the hyungs you dropped the honorifics.”

“No you aren’t.”

      There was a call from the kitchen and he briskly walked away. I shrugged it off since he was still working after all but as I watched his figure disappear into the kitchen, the next thing I knew Jaehyung bursted from the door and stormed over. My mouth fell agape at Jeongin who was watching me from the kitchen door snickering to himself. Snitch.

“l/n y/n!”

“Jaehyung-oppa listen-”

      Safe to say I was thoroughly lectured but it was worth it to know I made him smile… albeit because of my sorrow but minor details. Jaehyung asked to go home together again so I sat quietly in my corner seat as they had a store meeting. Watching them interact, now and throughout my time here, their dynamic was really something. Jaehyung and Younghyun act like they hate each other and are at each other’s throats yet they match each other’s energy to work perfectly together, Chan is like the middle child who acts like the youngest but will step up when needed, Jimin always butts heads with everyone but she still makes sure everyone is cared for, and lastly there are the two newest members Jeongin and Gahyeon… long term friends from school with the same sunshine type energy that every one of the older employees love to dote on like some dysfunctional… family… 

      Allowing my mind to fill itself with thoughts of Jeongin recently, I nearly forgot what time of year it was. Almost. My thoughts betrayed me and not wanting to make Jaehyung’s worrying/nagging worse I stepped out into the summer night. First it was just the loneliness setting in but it's different now with certain annoyances making an appearance last year. It’s like they’re watching and waiting… haunting me to make sure I can’t be happy for the rest of my life. All because of something I had no control over. As I tried to collect myself before I went down the family trauma rabbit hole, I received a text notification and rolled my eyes at the message. A strong urge to throw my phone came over me as my vision blurred red for a second and felt my arm raise for a moment, phone in hand, before a voice brought me back to my senses.

“Regardless of whatever you saw on there, I would advise you not to break your phone unless you can afford a new one.”

      Of all the people, he was not the one I pegged as someone who would’ve followed me out here. My brain was racing to pull itself together, still spiralling from the earlier train of thought, that my response exposed how confused I was.

“Jeongin? What are you doing out here? Aren’t you guys having a meeting?” 

“Yeah but hyung keeps looking to make sure you don’t leave so I decided to take one for the team and tell you to come back in so he can focus.”

“And here I thought you came out for me,” I joke as my arm falls back to my side, my snarky smartass persona finally loading up again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he rolls his eyes before asking, “Is something going on though? You almost threw your phone and hyung usually isn’t this antsy with you.”

      He noticed? I couldn’t help the small surge of happiness that shot through me but of all the things why did he have to notice this? As tense as I was at his observation, I threw on my usual smile and did what I did best.

“Awww so we really are friends, you care,” I tease and he glared back at me. “Everything’s fine, really. Jaehyung-oppa thinks I get kinda weird around this time of year cause something happened last year. He’ll be back to normal by next week.”

“... okay. Are you gonna stay out here? We’re basically done anyways,” he responded as he glanced at the group inside before eyeing me suspiciously.

“Yeah, let him know please. Also let him know to stop being a worrywart.”

“Tell him that yourself.”

      With a huff he walked back in and I was finally able to relax. Leaning against the window with a sigh, I wished it was winter so I could watch the smoke curl from my lips into the air. It’s oddly calming to watch it disappear and to feel the chill set in my bones. Instead I’m left with the stifling heat of summer and the slightly unsettling thought that Jeongin possibly saw through the act… I’m such a mess. I want him to pay attention to me and now that he has I’m getting antsy. Well this is the only exception I guess, Jaehyung only knows cause he saw it happen. If I had it my way no one would know. Once in the safety of my four walls, I fell into my bed with a groan. Today kinda sucked but I knew it would only get worse until that day comes. Looking at my desk in the corner of the living room with unfinished work strewn across its surface, I let out a sigh. Might as well work to get my mind off it.

      Ding. Ding. Ding. Drowsily raising my head from my desk, I rubbed my eyes in annoyance. The sun was up and Jaehyung knew my door code so who is being so irritating this early? Looking at the intercom monitor, I should’ve known it would be one of those vermin. With a groan I went to “greet” my half-sister, clad in her expensive private school uniform, as I glared and leaned against the door frame.

“To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the princess herself?”

“You weren’t answering mom’s messages and she wanted to make sure you’d be coming home for dinner this weekend.”

“Let me guess. Grandma is invited so I have to show up to make you people look good? Not interested so leave.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty. If you didn’t want to be a part of this family you shouldn’t have-”

“Get it right,” I sneered. “Your mother kicked me out for being a reminder of her husband’s infidelity and was forced to sign away my rights to the family and shares left to me in dad’s will just so I could get the money he left me for college. I’m sorry I actually care to visit dad besides his death anniversary and happen to run into grandma, nothing changes the fact that I’m the illegitimate child right? So run along before you’re late.”

      She stamped her foot and huffed at my indifferent face and challenging tone before turning on her heel and stomping to the elevator. I tiredly rubbed my face before running a frustrated hand through my hair. I did not need this first thing in the morning. Back inside my apartment, I grabbed my phone and called my best friend.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning wakeup call?” He groaned in annoyance. We both weren’t morning people.

“How early can we hang out?”

“Depends. On a scale of “I miss you” to “I want to pull my hair out,” how bad is it?”

“Younghee blew up my doorbell at seven in the morning to tell me to have dinner with them.”

“Oof. I’m shadowing my dad today but tomorrow night for sure, okay? I promise we’ll have fun and you can forget about them. ”

“Our handsome Changbinie is so great~ This is why you’re my best friend.”

“Shut up, I’m still two years older and I’m your only friend y/n.”

“No, I have Jaehyung-oppa and the others from the pub!”

“How can you be friends with someone who doesn’t like your best friend? I didn’t even do anything to Jaehyung-hyung to be hated like this.”

“I don’t like you and you are my best friend.”

“I- Nope, you love me by default because I’m the only one who knows all your secrets,” he countered.

“Who said you’re the only one?”

“Lover boy doesn’t count. He was drunk and probably doesn’t remember plus it’s not like you’ll see him again.”

“Wrong. I can since I have~”

“Young master, President Seo says you must get ready.”

“That’s me,” he groans, “you better catch me up! Maybe your life won’t be a revenge drama afterall," he gasped teasingly. "Is it a romantic comedy?”

“Shut up, does that make you the second lead dearest best friend?” He faked a gag and I chuckled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[monstaxdesires]

The Arrangement (Chapter Twenty Two)

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six) (Chapter Seven) (Chapter Eight) (Chapter Nine) (Chapter Ten) (Chapter Eleven) (Chapter Twelve) (Chapter Thirteen) (Chapter Fourteen) (Chapter Fifteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Seventeen) (Chapter Eighteen) (Chapter Nineteen) (Chapter Twenty) (Chapter Twenty One)

You were having dinner at his place. The past five weeks had been wonderful and you were now staying with him through the weekends either at his place or yours depending on the plans. He no longer had out of town trips that you didn’t attend or that were more than just a quick overnight trip. Your relationship in your arrangement was growing more and more comfortable. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, noticing you are quiet at dinner as you push around your last few bites of food. You had seemed off all night. A little more reclusive compared to normal.

“Sorry?” You look up setting your fork down.

“Something is on your mind, tell me.” He places his hand on yours. You turn your palm to press against his.

“I think I am going to go see my father.”

“When?”

You bite your lip. “Not sure. I was going to see what your schedule was like with events and when you would need me.”

“How long are you planning to be gone?”

You sip your wine before clearing your throat. “A weekend.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods once before squeezing your hand. “This weekend the schedule is empty.”

“Okay.”

He waits before leaning over to press a quick kiss to your temple. “I’m here if you need to talk about anything. You know that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper back before finishing and standing up. You drop your napkin on your plate. He follows, already having finished a little bit ago. You wanted to tell him what it was, but that was not something you were ready to go into detail over with him.

You sit on the chaise portion of his sofa while he grabs a blanket, your favorite blanket, before coming back to you. Once you are both snuggled in he watches you for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. You kiss him back, hand sliding up his chest before traveling around to curl into the hair at the back of his head. It deepens and he moans into your mouth before you end it. He studies you over, searching for what you are holding back.

“Talk to me, please. If I did something to push you away.”

“You didn’t,” you reassure him. Your nails gentle scratching his scalp. “I’m sorry  for making you think so.”

He shrugs. “I want you to be okay and I can tell you aren’t.”

“I’m not,” you agree and he frowns. You lean in kissing him. He pulls away before brushing his lips down your jaw. You sigh relaxing in his arms. “I will be eventually.”

“I know,” he replies.

You both settle down to face one another. Nothing else said but he watches you. And you touch him, hand trailing down his front and then back up before moving to his arm. He stays quiet for the longest time and only moves when a tear breaks free.

“No Baby, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, snuggling into his chest. His arms stay wrapped tightly around you. You press a kiss to his chest.

“Talk to me please, I can’t… you are crying and I can’t fix it.”

You nod before resting your cheek on his chest and dragging your hand up and down his arm. The heat from his body a comfort as you reign your emotions back in.

“This week, tomorrow actually is the anniversary of my mom’s death.”

“Baby….” He presses you even closer and you squeak a little from the pressure. “Stay with me tonight. I know it’s not the weekend, but I don’t want to leave you or let you leave me.”

You nod and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“We can spend the night like this. Whatever you want.”

“Thank you Shownu.”

“Anything.”

You tip your head back to look at him. “I have the rest of the week off. I asked for tomorrow off because it’s the anniversary and then I’m leaving Friday morning so I can be there when he gets off.”

“Okay.”

You smile a little “So when you go to work tomorrow I would appreciate it if you drop me off at my place if I stay with you tonight.”

“I’m taking tomorrow off. We’ll spend the day here or wherever. I don’t want you alone.”

“You don’t have to,” you whisper, shaking your head.

He cups your face, his thumb stroking back and forth across your bottom lip. “I want to.”

You shift up and press your lips to his. You melt against him, your heart aching at his tenderness.

“Distract me. Please.” You beg him, hands trembling.

He kisses you back and lets you lead into what you want. His touches and kisses tender and gentle until you both tangled together. The aches traded for a moment of passion.

———————————

After sleeping in you find him downstairs looking out at the rising morning sun, arm resting up against the glass, and in nothing but a pair of sweats. You admire him, leaning against the wall. He was truly so handsome. The lines and dips of his body perfect. The golden glow of his muscles tempting even this early in the morning.

“Nice view,” you say breaking the silence. He turns his head to see you, a smile on his face.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty.”

“Good morning,” you reply, voice soft and sweet. You near and he lets you slip between him and the glass. You both look out over the skyline. He leans against you.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I did. Did you?”

“I did,” he answers, his hand on your hip. His touch teasing as he moves his hand under your shirt. You shiver, biting your lip.

“Last night…” You start but stop before turning to face him.

You study him over before exhaling. He lifts your hands up to his lips, brushing them over your knuckles. You lean back against the cool glass and exhale.

“Last night felt different.”

He smiles before leaning in. His kiss gentle, reassuring, and you let him lift you with ease before carrying you to the sofa. You fall into it together and you stay straddling his lap. Your lips brushing in sweet short kisses. The kissing ends and he sits back, admiring you.

“Last night was different,” he admits. You bite your lip and slowly start to move off of him, but he keeps you, his hands gripping your thighs. “Don’t pull away from me.”

You frown, looking down at your lap. “Shownu…”

“I know,” he murmurs gentle before kissing your forehead. “But let’s just take today in and we can figure everything else out when you come back from visiting your dad, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want you to enjoy today with me. We can do whatever you want. Then I will take you home and we can spend the night there. And I will drop you off at the train station that morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

He presses a quick peck to your lips before you both get up and go to get ready for the day.

(Chapter Twenty Three)

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The pipe player; John Deacon x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this one was a bit of a struggle cause when it comes to John I can't help but write a bit of fluff because c'mon LOOK AT HIM. HE'S A CINNAMON ROLL!!!! BUT THERE IS A DARK THEME STILL IN THIS STORY SUCH AS ABUSE AND A SCENE OF AN ALMOST ATTEMPT RAPE (Not with Deacy but another character) so IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DON'T. READ. IT!!! My feelings won't be hurt if you skip this part cause again I felt nervous writing it. So other than that, that's all I have to say, hope you all enjoy this part and I hope to have Brian's and the LAST HALLOWQUEEN fic up hopefully next weekend or before Halloween.

Intro to series

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@ixchel-9275​

@waddles03​

@geek-and-proud​

@mexifangorl​

@queendeakyy​

@coolcxt​

____________________________________________________________

As you are walking around you suddenly come across one of the kids you recognized from the show during the pipe player’s routine. She was a little girl around 4-5 years old with blonde hair and green eyes holding a brown rabbit plushie in a blue trench coat.  You notice how she’s frantically looking around and her face is in absolute fear. Feeling heartbroken seeing a little girl so scared in a pretty scary place like this, you walk up to her.

“Hey sweetie.” She turns to look at you and she greets you shyly.

“Hello.”

“My name’s (y/n), what’s yours?”

“Laura.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Laura. Are you lost sweetie?”

“I was trying to look for my daddy, but I think I lost him in the crowd. He told me to head back but I forgot my bunny Mr. Wiggles here. I just found him and now I can’t find my daddy!” She begins to tear up so you comfort her.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s okay. We can look for him together, okay?” she sniffled and said.

“R-really?”

“Of course. Here take my hand so we don’t get separated okay. I’d hate to lose you to a place like this.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and takes your hand.  As you walk around, you ask her what she can remember that her dad looked like.

But she can only remember that he had dark brown hair.  So that ruled out some of the people that were in the audience and left with what over 1000 more to go.  Soon you both hear a voice.

“Laura? Laura! Laura lovie where are you!?”

“Daddy!” Laura lets go of your hand and immediately takes off.  You panic and race after her calling out her name.  But then you soon see her being picked up by the pipe player, the two of them hugging each other.  So—the one girl in the act was actually his daughter.

“Oh Laura my sweetheart, my darling. Why didn’t you go immediately backstage after the act like I told you?” he asked sternly.

“If I may interject, it wasn’t her fault. She lost her rabbit and she was trying to find him.” You explain to him.  He looked towards you before looking back down at Laura.

“Mr. Wiggles’ is scared of the dark. But it took me forever to find him, when the lights came on I founded him.”

“Well, I do know how Mr. Wiggles feels about the dark so I’m happy you found him. But next time come tell me if you lost him, I thought someone had taken you away from me.”

“I sowwy daddy.”

“It’s alright poppet. You’re safe now, and that’s all I can ask for.” He kissed her forehead and hugged her close.  You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at the warm family reunion.  “Now go on, join your brothers and sisters in the trailer.”

He sets Laura down but before she leaves she runs up to you and hugs your legs.

“Thank you (y/n).”

“You’re very welcome Laura. Keep Mr. Wiggles close so that he doesn’t get lost again.” She nodded before finally taking off running.

“How can I ever thank you for finding her?” the pipe player said.

“No thanks are necessary. It’s heartbreaking to see a child separated from their parents.”

“Believe me, it’s heartbreaking on the opposite side. I don’t know what I would’ve done had she been kidnapped by some of the freaks that come see our shows.” You nod in agreement because some of them did look rather shady to you.  “Oh where are my manners, I’m John Deacon.” He introduced himself.

“And as your daughter has said, my name is (y/n).” the two of you shake hands with each other.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything that I can do as thanks for finding my daughter? Can I make you some hot chocolate or a warm cuppa?”

“Well…I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

“Right this way.” He guided you towards the back to a four-train like trailer and he guides you towards the main one and inside you see a kitchen as well as three boys roughhousing it up with each other.

“Robert! Luke! DeAngelo how many times have I told you to stop roughhousing in the living room!” John proclaimed in that father-voice.

“But dad Robert and DeAngelo stole my Nintendo switch!” Luke proclaimed.

“Robert. DeAngelo is this true?”

“Well he was game hogging!”

“He wouldn’t let us play a game!”

“I don’t wanna hear it now. You have embarrassed me in front of a guest!”

“John it’s okay….” You try to say but he gently interrupts you by saying.

“No it’s not. Alright boys, as punishment all three of you are not allowed Nintendo for a week.”

“What!?!” all three of them exclaimed.

“Okay two weeks.”

“But dad….” Robert started off but John interrupted.

“Three weeks, wanna go for four?” he raised a brow at his three sons and they remained quiet. “Okay now the three of you go to your rooms and I don’t wanna hear another pipe or rattle out of you.” The boys all chanted out in a mantra-like state.

“Yes father.” Then as they walked out DeAngelo hit Robert over the head while Robert pushed Luke against the back, the three of them muttering angry hisses at each other.

“I am so sorry you had to see that (y/n).” he apologizes to you.

“No, no trust me I’ve seen worse. My cousins Derek and Cody used to go full on out MMA fighting style all over an X-box. My uncle literally took the thing and threw it out the second story window just to get them to stop.”

“Wow, maybe I should take a page out of your uncle’s book and try that.” Said John as he got out the mugs and prepared the tea.

“Please take a seat anywhere.” You opted for the velvet chair since it was the only thing that hadn’t been tipped over in the three boys squabble.

“Hey John.”

“Hmm?”

“If—if you don’t mind me asking. DeAngelo is—is he…..adopted?” The reason you asked that was because unlike Robert and Luke, DeAngelo was a black kid around 10 years old.

“A runaway actually.”

“Runaway?” you question.

“Yes. You know how when you’re a kid and when you’ve always claimed that if you were going to run away, you’d run and join the circus.”

“Yeah.”

“Well that was the case with DeAngelo. We found him about 4 years ago in Chicago. He was—difficult to deal with at first, but that was until I found out the reason why he ran away.” He comes in with two mugs of tea and hands you one as he says grimly, “His father was an abuser.”

“No.” you gasp.

“Yeah. I noticed a few cigar burns on his hip one night and confronted him about it. And ever since then I’ve been looking after him.” Ohh what a saint.

“If—you don’t mind me asking John….”

“I think in the light of the matter you can call me Deacy. All my friends do.”

“So—we’re friends now?”

“Anyone who saves one of my kids I would consider a friend. I hardly ever let the other three I work along with near them. All except Brian.”

“He’s the—underwater act?”

“No that’s Roger. Brian’s the sorcerer.”

“Ohh yeah. Sorry.”

“No, no, no need to apologize. I tend to remember him because only a sorcerer like him could have hair like that. I’ll bet he’d keep the same hairstyle even when he’s old and grey.” You couldn’t help but giggle. “Anyways what were you going to ask?”

“Well, again if this isn’t crossing any lines but I was wondering….how many children do you have?”

“Well I consider all the children who came up on stage mine. But by blood I’ve got six.”

You choke on your tea at the number.  Six kids?! But he couldn’t be older than his early or mid-20’s.

“Does that come as a surprise to you?”

“Well I mean—you don’t look like someone who would have six kids.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that I was—”

“No, no it’s fine. Roger always calls me a prolific for having so many kids at such a young age. But I can’t help it. My wife and I always wanted a hundred kids.” At that statement you felt your heart secretly break a little.

Of course he was married.  I mean he was cute and all so how could a girl not fall for him.  He just—had this warmness to him that makes you feel like he’d not only be the perfect husband, but the perfect father.

“But sadly though I could only give her six.”

“Whys that?”

“She passed away about nine months ago. Breast cancer.”

“Oh Deacy I’m…..I’m so sorry. How—long were you both married?”

“It feels like a lifetime. An eternity. There was no one else like my Veronica.” His eyes held such sadness and heartbreak at the mention of his wife. “But—I promised her that any kid I would find from here on out, it would be ours. And I guess she keeps delivering to me more kids. All thanks to this.” He then took out his pipe from his undercoat pocket.

“Did she make it?”

“Yeah. It was on our first anniversary together. She said that any lost child that could hear the real tune of this pipe, can feel like they can do anything they wish.” So that’s why some of this boys were able to flip over the 20 volunteers all in a line, or were able to juggle things while balancing on a ball, or jump over 30ft into a pool of water.

“I wondered about some of those stuff the kids were doing. If that had been me, I would’ve chickened out.”

“Now I doubt that. Belief is more stronger than fear, if you can believe it, anyone can do it. Now since you’ve seem to know my life story, I think it’s only fair I get to know yours.”

“Oh no I—don’t wanna bore you to death with my tale.” You say trying to get out from sharing your life story.

“Oh no, no, no, no. I always teach my kids equal trade. If they argue about something, I tell them both to share their sides of the situation. So c’mon out with it.”

“Well…..” you trail off and take another sip of the warm tea before setting the mug down on the table that Deacy had put right side up just as he had sat down on the couch.  “My childhood was—a bit on the…..iffy side.”

“How do you mean?” he questions with a puppy-like head tilt.

“Well,” and you can’t explain how or why you suddenly started telling Deacy your life story.  Maybe it was his aura that made it feel like you can just tell him anything. “When I was six, my mom died of bladder cancer. So I know how hard it is to lose someone to cancer.”

“Oh (y/n). I’m so sorry to hear that. I—kinda know how it feels like to lose a parent at such a young age. My father died suddenly out of nowhere. I was lost for years till I met Veronica. Had it not been for her, I would’ve been kept in my shell.”

“It’s a good thing she did find you then.” You say with a smile.

“Did—anyone take care of you after your mum passed away?”

“Well both grandparents on each of my parent’s side were dead. My mum was an only child and my dad’s brother couldn’t afford to take care of me since he was dealing with my cousins who were teenagers at the time.”

“So your dad was the only one to take care of you?” at the mention of your father, you shift in your seat uncomfortably and nervously pick at your nails.  Unconsciously your shoes start to rub against each other and you can feel yourself getting a little clammy. “(Y/n)? (Y/n).”  You snap out of your daze.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?” his eyes look at you with the utmost concern, like he’s approaching a frightened child.

“I—I’m sorry Deacy I-I-I was just….it’s…..” you start to ramble over your words and he gets down in front of you and says.

“Hey, look at me.” His takes your sweaty palms and squeezes them comfortingly. “Your cry-talking love, take a few deep breaths with me before you talk again.” He guides you through some breathing exercises to help you calm down.

You follow his guidance and he helps bring you back down to earth and calms the hysteria you were about to go under whenever it came towards your father.

“Better?” you sniffle and nod.

“Let’s just say…..I know exactly what DeAngelo went through growing up. But worse.” John’s eyes widen in horror as he couldn’t believe it.

“You mean……”

“Please John I…..I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” You shudder in fear as you begin to close yourself up.  John immediately agrees and apologizes profusely in a gentle voice as he pulls you close to him.

You struggle to get out of his embrace because the only time your father ever hugged you, was to teach you a lesson. The more you struggled, the tighter he would hold you until you almost couldn’t breathe.

“(Y/n), (y/n) (y/n) relax. Shhh. No one’s going to hurt you. Shhh, relax. Shhh.” He tried to soothe you but you were still frantically thrashing about.  He hold you close with one arm and with the other reaches for his pipe and begins playing a soft tune.

Almost like magic, you stop thrashing and begin to calm down as you allow John to hold you close in his arms.  It was then you realized this wasn’t a punishment at all. It was a hug. A real, actual, comforting hug.

You’ve always wanted one but due to your father’s favored ‘lesson’ you feared that anytime someone was going to hug you, they were giving you a punishment which left you a bit touch-starved if you were honest.

But now being in Deacy’s strong but gentle arms, the music soothing you in one ear and in the other one his heartbeat assuring you everything would be okay.

Slowly but surely you lift your arms up and cling onto Deacy and bury your face into his chest.  He continues to play his flute and it further relaxes you.  Once the muscles in your body go completely relaxed and you finally stop fighting and just cling onto him like a child, John sets his flute down and places his free hand on top of your head, stroking through your hair.

“I’m so sorry (y/n). Had I known what—I should never have asked you to share such a personal story about your father.”

“It’s okay Deacy. That’s—actually the first time I ever spoke up about it to anyone.”

“Really?” You nod. “Well—I thank you for your trust. I know it couldn’t have been easy to tell me that. Even if you don’t include the graphic details, it’s still brave of you to tell me.”

“I would hardly call myself brave.” You state grimly towards yourself.

“Now don’t go putting yourself down like that. You are strong, just like DeAngelo, just like all the other abused children I find and take in.” he cups your face and stares right in your eyes. “Repeat after me. I. Am. Strong.” You at first don’t say it but with the same look he gave his boys earlier but in a more gentler way, you finally say.

“I am strong.”

“Louder.”

“I am strong.”

“C’mon from the gut. I am strong!”

“I am strong!” you proclaim loudly, he grins at you and he says.

“You damn well are.” You smile and thank him but he tells you there’s nothing to be thankful for.

“DeAngelo’s fortunate. You gave him a second chance. He deserves to be loved and protected by someone like you.”

“But don’t you think you deserve a second chance?”

“It’s too late for me.” You both remain silent before you say after a sigh. “I should get home now, it’s getting late.”

“At least me walk you to your car.”

“Ohh no thanks, I don’t want to keep you away from your kids, besides it’s probably their bedtime soon right?”

“Yeah, I guess. But are you sure you wouldn’t like some company to see that you get home safely?”

“I’m sure.” You stand up but before you leave, you shyly ask permission for one last hug.  John laughs softly but gives you a warm hug.

“You never have to ask me permission for a hug (y/n). Maybe next time I’m around we can spend a little more time together.”

“I’d like that.” You bid John a goodnight and finally leave the circus.

As you arrive home, you hang the keys up along the key ring beside your door when you suddenly hear movement in the house. You freeze because your roommate said that she was gonna be out of town till after Halloween.

And when she makes a confirmed date on when she knows she’ll be out, she sticks to it.  You slowly close the door and immediately turn on the lights but you see no one.  You try to calm yourself down thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you again.

After showering and brushing your teeth, you walk towards your room only to see a horrifying sight.  Sitting right there on your bed was your father.  He stared soullessly right at you, his eyes cold and hardened.

“About damn time you showed up.” You are frozen right at your spot trembling in fear. “Took me for fucking ever to try and find this place. But when I finally did, boy did I have a field day.”

“H-ho-how…..”

“You should know that I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. Now I’m gonna teach you a lessons for leaving me you ungrateful bitch.” Your adrenaline kicked in and you fled down the stairs trying to get out the door but to your horror it was blocked shut with the coffee table, kitchen chairs, stools, and a couple of small tables that were used as placements for photos.

You try to hide in the kitchen in the pantry closet but you can hear your father’s voice call out.

“Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide little brat. You’re caught by the cat, and he’s gonna have fun with you. Especially now that you’re older.” Oh god he—he was really going to…..

To your horror the pantry door opened and in his hand you even more terrified because he now held a gun in his hands. He cocked it and forcefully pulled you out of the closet and tossed you down to the ground.

“Take your clothes off.”

“Please don’t do this.” You begged as tears streamed down your face. Without warning he fires a shot close to you, the ringing in your ears making it clear that the next shot he wasn’t going to miss.

“I said strip!” his voice muffled.  Now you had no choice.

You slowly begin taking off your shirt first then your pants until you’re in nothing but bra and underwear.  You father looks down at you lustfully but just before anything can happen, a suddenly burst of wind came blowing in as the windows suddenly were pulled up.

A green bolt of lightning struck and there standing between you and your father was John.  

“D-D-Deacy?” you softly whisper.  He turns towards you and takes off his jacket and covers you up with it, to give yourself your decency back.  He cups your cheek and tells you while making direct eye contact with you.

“Sleep.” You don’t know why, but almost immediately you begin to feel tired as you feel yourself collapse towards the floor.  But John catches you and gently sets you down.

*3rd Person POV*

Once John sees (y/n) fall asleep, he quickly directs his attention to her father.

“Who the fuck are you!” demanded her father.

“I am known throughout folklore in in almost every culture. I have been described in many ways, it is not who I am. But what I am.” As John spoke, a green aura of magic surrounded him.  His greenish-blue eyes changed to a haunting gold, his skin changed to a dark greyish tone, horns sprout from his head, his face grew grimmer and his canines grew into fangs and his nails grew sharper till they reached a point.

But what began to intimidate (y/n)’s father the most were the giant 7-9ft black feathery wings that shot out from his back. He held out his hand and almost by magic, her father was flung across the room towards the barricade he had built to keep his daughter in.  He groaned but then was forced up and felt himself being choked.

John stood before him and just glared at him with soulless yellow eyes.

“You’re…..a monster.”

“Takes one to know one.” John then shoved his hand into (y/n)’s father’s chest taking a hold of his heart.  He groaned in agony before Deacy pulled it out.  Surprisingly he didn’t die. “Ho—how am I?”

“Still alive? Because I’m allowing it. For now.” John took a couple steps back and continued, “Whenever it comes to human manipulation, faes need a power source from the individual they want to control. And there’s no better control than the heart. I’m surprised you even have one.”

Then with a firm squeeze, her father lunged forward crying out.  John continued to squeeze his heart in his hands making him feel every ounce of pain he’s caused (y/n) in the past.

“So literally, your life is in my hands.” He squeezed even tighter and just stared as her father continued to groan and cry out in agony.

“ENOUGH! STOP IT!!”

“Stop it? Did you stop? Did you stop when you forced your daughter to take off her clothes? When she begged you to not beat her? Or when you used a form of affection as a punishment method by constricting her like a snake!? Did you stop then? So why should I?” Finally the heart began to crack and soon a crunch sound was heard and the screaming and crying ceased.

As John slowly opened his hand, all that came pouring out was dust.  Her father’s corpse collapsed to the ground and lay there motionless.  He nonchalantly blew the dust off his palm and said as he glared down at her father.

“She’ll no longer be in fear of you anymore. And she’ll get the second chance she deserves.” He then looks over towards (y/n) and gently picks her up bridal style, making sure that she’s still covered up in his jacket before flying out the window.

He flies back towards the location of the circus and walks towards

the left wing.  There some kind of ritual was set up.  Candles were lit up and essence were burning a calming lavender scent.  At the center of the circle of candles and essence, there was a Celtic design drawn all around the inner circle.

He placed (y/n) on top of the design and prepared some sort of powder.  He mixed some liquids together before pouring it into a small bowl of sand.  Using some chopsticks he stirred it up till the sand turned blue.

He poured some of the sand into his palm and poured it around (y/n)’s body.  Then he took some of that sand and gently brushed it across her forehead and down her nose.  He took out his pipe and began playing a tune that he’s played before one a few occasions.

The powder around (y/n) suddenly sparked into blue fire and her body began to glow in blue magic dust.  The light grew brighter and brighter until the flames suddenly diminished and the light faded away.

Now instead of the normal aged (y/n), she had now been turned back to how she was at five years old.  John soft smiled at her and stroked her cheek before picking her back up in his arms, his jacket now burying her small body as he carried her into the girl’s bedroom trailer where Laura and his 4 other adopted daughters slept.

He changed her into one of Laura’s clothes since they were now the same age.  Allowing his magic to bring back the human disguise he kept he stayed and kept watch over her because he knew what the spell would also do to her once she woke up.

*2nd Person POV*

You wake up to find yourself in a strange room that you don’t recognize.  In fact you can’t even remember how you got here, or who you were in fact.

“Hello poppet.” You quickly turn your head to see a man with short brown hair and warm, gentle eyes.  You couldn’t put your finger on it but something about him felt—right.

“Hi.” You said shyly.

“Do you know your name?” he asked you.  You think about it but nothing came to mind.

“No. Is—is that bad?” you asked nervously.

“No, no not at all.” He said assuringly as he strokes your hair gingerly.  “How do you feel about (y/n)?” you think about it and you nod with a soft smile. “That’s what I was hoping for.” He says gently smiling back at you.

“Is—is daddy coming home?” you ask fearfully. He looks at you confused and asks you.

“Why would you think that?”

“He—he always gets mad when I try to run away. What if he finds me? Please don’t let him find me!”

“Hey, hey, hey shhh shshshsh it’s okay poppet. It’s okay. Your daddy won’t ever find you.” He says as he takes your tiny hands into his large ones.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He says as he gently lifts his hand to gingerly stroke your cheek.  You slightly flinch thinking you’d eventually get hit but as you kept feeling that gently stroke of his thumb on your cheek, you slowly began to realize that he wasn’t like your real daddy.

You don’t know why but you find yourself getting up and you slide off the bed you’re on and sit down on John’s lap and cuddle into his chest and cling onto him like a koala.  

He smiles down at you lovingly and slowly wraps his arm around you.  Still feeling a bit afraid since this was the common punishment your old dad used to give you, you tense up but John assures you.

“Shhh, shh. It’s okay poppet. It’s okay. This isn’t a punishment.”

“What is it then?” you ask.

“It’s called a hug. It’s something people do to show affection to one another.” You take in his words and said.

“I like hugs.”

“I like them too. And so do your brothers and sisters. That is if you want to get to know them.”

“So—I can stay?”

“Only if you wish to love.”

“I wanna stay. I don’t wanna go home!”

“And you never have to. I can take care of you love. I’m gonna give you the second chance that you deserved.”  You cling onto his tighter and bury yourself deeper into his chest, listening to his gentle heartbeat.

Meanwhile outside the magician Brian along with the cat tamer Freddie stood outside and Freddie asked.

“He did it again?”

“Yep.” Answered Brian.  “What is this—the fifth one this month? He’s been going overboard. Soon enough he could get us caught.”

“Oh let him have his kiddies, after all he and I are in the same boat when it comes to our children. He has his kids, I’ve got my cats.”

“You’re a psycho Fred.” Freddie chuckled sinisterly.

“A lovely psycho darling. But Deacy uses his powers for good and he gets rid of the arsehole parents around the world. Plus it might be good having another little Deacy child around. They at least make Roger a softie.”

“Don’t go there kitty cat!” Roger’s voice called out from his tank.

“And don’t call me kitty cat blondie!” Freddie hisses.

“Alright you two break it up!” Brian comes to stop the two entities.

[fallen-imagine-angel]

Arranged Marriages & Forbidden Love - Chapter 6

Notes: Chapter 6 is here! I hope everyone enjoys...this is a sad chapter :) I’m sorry. Please continue to like/comment/reblog, all of it helps much more than you could ever imagine! Thank you!

Summary: You get a surprise visit at Harvard.

Arranged Marriages & Forbidden Love - Chapter 6

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 2,462

Warnings: Death, fighting, burns, being attacked, etc. Otherwise, this is angst from beginning to end :)

(Flashbacks are in italics!)

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

You yawn and get out of bed to make breakfast. You and Peter have been going strong for a year now, and you can absolutely say that this is the happiest you have ever been in your entire life. For real this time.

In fact, tomorrow is your anniversary and you’ve planned a special date with Peter. You’re going to finally tell him that you’re in love with him. Neither of you has said it yet because of the impending doom of your father, but you’ve figured it out.

You promised Peter that you’d tell your father this Christmas break, which is only a month away. You’re scared, but you’re confident in you and Peter’s relationship. You have to tell MJ, too, she doesn’t know yet.

You’re making eggs when you hear a knock at your door. You smile to yourself, already knowing that it’s Peter. You walk over to the door and open it up with a goofy grin.

“Hey-- dad!?” Your eyes widen as your father pushes past you and into your apartment. He turns around.

“Hey,” He says, looking over at the eggs cooking in your kitchen. You smile lightly and shut the door, going to finish your eggs.

“This is a surprise.” You giggle, deciding to make scrambled eggs instead. You were too late for any other kind of egg to be cooked properly.

“I know.” He sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Well, of course, you know. You’re the one who surprised me.” You laugh, putting your eggs on a plate.

“No, (Y/n), I know.” He growls. You look over to see him glaring at you.

“Know what?” You whisper, gripping your plate of eggs tightly in your hand.

“I know that you and Peter are dating behind my back.” He tells you. The plate drops to the ground, shattering on impact. A piece or two grazes your foot.

“Dad, it’s not what you think…” Your heart rate speeds up. What does this mean?

“Oh, so you didn’t deliberately go behind my back to be in a relationship with my intern, a fellow superhero, while you were at college and away from me? (Y/n) you have a duty to uphold, you’re supposed to be married to—”

“I don’t want to marry Harley, dad! He’s my best friend, I don’t want to marry him!” Your breathing becomes labored as tears prick at your eyes.

“It has been planned for ten years now, there’s no backing out. you need to cut off your fling with Peter, it’s distracting the both of you and quite frankly, I can’t have it. I’m sorry.” He tries to end the conversation, but you won’t give up that easily. Not anymore. Not when Peter’s on the line.

“Dad, I’m not going to just--”

“Yes, you will, because I’m not allowing you to see Peter at all anymore. Not only is your fling cut off, but your friendship is also. You cannot see Peter anymore. You have to break up with him and cut him off entirely and...and don’t let him know I’m behind this. I can’t have him be mad at me, too.” Tony takes his sunglasses off and points them at you.

“What? Dad, you’re being irrational!” You yell, clenching your fists.

“You will obey me, (Y/n/n), I am your father.” He glares at you, his own fist clenching around his sunglasses.

“Dad…” You trail off, not letting him see the tears that are threatening to spill.

“I’m coming back this weekend. If the relationship isn’t cut off by then, there will be consequences.” He demands. Your eye twitches.

“How did you even find out?” You lower your voice.

“That... doesn’t matter.” You see his eyes flicker to your living room. You gasp.

“You bugged my apartment.” Your eyes grow wide as you realize what he did.

“What-- I would never!” He seems angry that you would suspect him of that. You run to your living room, flipping over the coffee table. Sure enough, there’s a small bug planted on the underside of it.

“Liar! You bugged my coffee table, that’s how you knew!” You scream at him, throwing the bug on the ground and crushing it under your foot.

“...yes, it is.” He admits, trying to calm himself down. He’s unsuccessful.

“You’re still trying to control my life!” You yell, kicking the broken bits of the bug at him. He loosens his grip on his sunglasses and puts them back on, staring at you for a second longer.

“I do control your life,” He says before walking out of your apartment.

So much for a friendly visit from your father.

You let all of the tears fall that you didn’t want him to see. You sink to your knees, completely forgetting about your surroundings. You scream, throwing anything you can at the nearest wall. You’re terrified of losing Peter.

But you have no choice. If you don’t, you’re afraid you’ll be disowned. Who are you, if not a Stark?

~+~

You open your door and see Peter standing there, a wide smile on his face and flowers in his hands. He leans in for a kiss and you kiss him back fiercely, knowing this might be the last time you’ll ever get the chance. He finally pulls away, much to your dismay.

It’s your anniversary night, the night you promised Peter you’d go on a special date with him to commemorate a year of being together. The night you had planned to finally tell Peter that you’re in love with him.

How you wish you could just go on that date instead of doing your father’s bidding.

“Hey, Pete, come in,” You say, already holding back tears. You sit on the couch with him, setting down the flowers on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, cupping your cheek. You let the tears start to flow.

“I...I can’t do this anymore.” You blurt, closing your eyes tight. Peter’s hand falls from your cheek.

“What...what do you mean? Why not?” He asks. You open your eyes to see him already staring at you, pure confusion in his expression. You let out a shaky breath.

“It’s too hard, Peter. What if my dad finds out-- what about Harley?” You try to make up excuses, but you can’t convince even yourself.

“We said we were going to tell your dad at Christmas. We’ll figure out a way to stop the marriage, I swear.” He goes to wipe a tear away but you push his hand down.

“What if we can’t, huh? What then?” You murmur, wiping away your own tears. His confusion spreads to hurt at your words, realizing what’s probably coming next.

“We will, I promise you. I promise.” He takes your hand in his, hurt melting into determination. He won’t let go of you that easily.

So you have to make it harder for him to stay.

“There’s another reason I can’t do this anymore.”

“Which is?” His eyebrows furrow. He’s worried. He’s angry. He has every right to be. You’re already heartbroken, now you have to make him feel the same way.

All because of your father.

“I’m in love with Harley,” You say.

“(Y/n/n)...you’re not serious, are you?” His eyes desperately search your face for any hint of a joke or a lie. You stay stone cold.

“I am serious. I want to marry Harley. I don’t want to see you, Peter Parker. At all. Please leave.” Your voice cracks when you say his name, an accurate representation of what you’re feeling in the moment.

Tears fall down Peter’s cheeks.

“You don’t mean that, (Y/n/n). Please. I..I lo-” He starts to whisper, letting go of your hand. You cut him off.

“Don’t. Please, Peter, don’t say it. It’ll make it easier for both of us if you don’t say it. I...I mean all of this. Don’t call me (Y/n/n) anymore, it’s (Y/n) or Miss Stark. Actually, forget it, don’t speak to me at all. We’re through, get out of my apartment.” You get up and go to the door, opening it for him. You can’t help but let a small sob slip past your lips as you walk away from him. He follows you to the door, lip trembling as he stands in front of the open door with you. You long for his embrace again.

You want to open up your heart to him, to tell him that you’re in love with him and that it’s your father’s fault.

You want to hear him say that he loves you, too.

“Don’t make me go.” He pleads, reaching for your hand one more time. He doesn’t want to go.

You don’t want him to go, either. You have no choice.

You look away. Footsteps echo through the hallway as he walks away from you, complying to your wish. He put up a fight, but in the end, he would always do what you ask of him.

That includes leaving you if your heart is set on it. As much as he hates it, he won’t force you into a relationship that you’re not happy in.

He wants your happiness above everything else, including his own happiness.

You shut the door behind you, pressing your back against it. You sink to your knees and let out the sobs you were holding back. You cry and cry, not able to hold in any of your emotions anymore.

So you let it all go.

~+~

After a couple of hours of crying, you finally get up and take a shower. You even change into new clothes, helping you gain a little bit of your sanity back since you feel nicer again.

You decide to go on a walk.

You walk out of your apartment and down the street, taking in the beautiful views of the campus. You see your favorite cherry tree across the street, sending you back to the good old days.

“Peter, over here!” You call out to your boyfriend of two weeks, giggling as he sees you and starts running over.

“Hey, there you are. I was wondering which tree you meant.” He laughs as he slows down to a jog and stops in front of you.

“I said cherry tree, you goof.” You scrunch your nose at him, poking his chest.

“You did not s--” He’s cut off by a raindrop on his nose. You look up to see storm clouds forming above.

“We’d better get out before it starts ra--”

Too late. Rain falls from the sky heavily, soaking you to the bone. You shiver and look over at Peter with wide eyes. He quickly strips his jacket and holds it over you, even though it does no good anymore.

“M’lady.” He chuckles, getting under the jacket with you. You giggle and look up at him, setting your hand on his chest. He presses his forehead to yours.

“The jacket doesn’t help much since I was already soaked beforehand.” You point out, reaching up on your tip-toes to brush your lips against his.

“I suppose you’re right.” He lets the jacket fall to the side as he captures your lips in his. As the jacket falls to the side, his hands wrap around your waist. You sigh into the kiss, relaxing against him even in the heavy rain.

That was one of the moments you would always remember with Peter. You tear up at the thought of not being able to kiss him anymore. You aren’t able to do anything with him anymore.

You continue to walk, stopping at an alleyway where you and Peter would always change into your suits before patrolling the city for crime. You worked well together, you’re sad it’s gone.

You’re sad he’s gone.

“Hey, aren’t you (Y/n) Stark?” A man asks you, coming up from behind. You spin around and raise an eyebrow.

“Um, yes, that’s me.” You nod, looking at the man curiously.

“Perfect.” He grins at you, grabbing your waist and pulling you into the alley. You yelp but overall are not very scared.

“Let go of me!” You growl, reaching over to hit him. He blocks it and throws you to the ground.

“(Y/n) Stark...imagine the ransom money I could get from you.” He smirks, rubbing his hands together.

“Creep,” You roll your eyes and get back up, dusting your jeans off, “now, if you don’t mind, I still have to take a walk to clear my head.”

You lunge for him, tackling him to the ground. You get in a good punch or two to his face.

“Not so fast.” He reaches over and grabs your waist. You realize his hand and arms are hot.

Burning hot.

“Ack!” You yell, trying to jump away from him but he holds you still. You scream, kicking him where it hurts before wriggling out of his grasp. He falls to his knees but grabs your ankle before you can escape.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He grunts, dragging you back to him. You kick him in the face and he lets go, letting out a horrible groan. You double-tap your watch, letting your suit envelop you.

You aim your repulsor at his leg but he grabs your neck, choking you. You gag against the heat of his hand pressing hard against your throat. He holds you up by your neck, letting your feet kick under you.

“Let-- go!” You gasp, turning one of your hands into a knife and cutting his arm. He lets go with surprise and you fall to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. You start to run because this is an evenly matched fight that you’re not sure you can win. You may have your suit, but he is a thirty-year-old man with fire powers.

“No!” He yells, grabbing you by the calf. You scream at the intensity of his hand against your calf, spinning around and holding both of your hand repulsors up at him. He takes this opportunity to grab both of your wrists, keeping them in a heat-locked grip. You cry out in pain, as the skin bubbles and burns. He lets go of one of your hands and grips the other with both hands. You scream, lifting your other repulsor up to him and firing immediately. 

His grip goes slack and he falls to the ground, a hole in his chest.

“Briggs?” You ask, your voice too shaky to form any other words. 

“Yes, boss?” The AI in your suit responds.

“Call Harley.” You fall against the wall, sinking to the ground, next to the body of the man who tried to kill you.

“Calling Harley,” Briggs tells you. The phone rings two times before Harley picks up.

“(Y/n/n)? What’s up?” Harley answers, sounding as nonchalant as can be.

“Help.” You whisper.

Everything goes dark.

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

Tag List: @savedbystark @paintingbellarke @itsbebeyyy @bonita-juanita@spidey-holland7 @ohbabycal @spiderhemlock13

[acrobaticcatfeline]

When it’s so Dark, a Candle isn’t Enough to Save You

Word Count: 2526

TW: It’s a vent fic, so swearing, depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, no self harm or actual death or anything but like right on the edge of an attempt and getting talked down, lots of crying and self loathing, parents who arent bad and genuinely want to help but aren’t really reaching their kid, and I think that’s it.

Notes: This is heavily based on my life and my thoughts, but I haven’t gotten too bad like this, I’m fine don’t worry, this was my catharsis. I’m better now. Still not great but better.

Pairings: platonic logince, theres a hint of romantic logince in the last few paragraphs that come after a short time skip.

Summary: “Member left. Member left. Member left.” Roman’s day has gone to shit. Everything is bad and he is so damn alone. He’s sitting on the edge, dangling by a frayed string and it’s snapping piece by piece. He’s losing that grip on life that he used to have. He doesn’t feel like there’s any one who would care anyways, but life finds a way sometimes to put the right people in the right spot at the right time. Sometimes, you really can be saved.

Member left.

Member left.

Member left.

Roman was already having a bad day. When he looked online to see all his friends had left their group chat, he slammed his computer closed and went for a walk. It was early November and below freezing out already. He skipped the jacket, barely stopping to slip on his sneakers before stepping out. He stuffed his already freezing hands in his jeans pockets and looked up at the sky to prevent the drops from his eyes the chance to roll down his cheeks. His parents weren’t listening. They never really listened. They weren’t being malicious, he knew that, but god he just wanted to throw himself into the ocean sometimes with how they responded to his attempts at communication. No dad, it doesn’t get easier to wake up in the morning, its still terrible and he still just wants to hole up and cry instead of going to school. No dad, just because he's always done that chore doesn’t mean its going to be easy, especially as more and more people move in. It’s one thing to clean for 3 people, but 12 is a whole other thing. His spine aches just thinking about standing over the sink for hours at a time scrubbing futilely. His feet sore from hours on his feet after an already terrible school day. His fingers cruelly remind him of the feel on his hands, the tremors shoot through his nerves remembering the sensation that makes him want to tear his skin off bit by bit with his own teeth. His ears ring that horrid sound, the squeak that makes him want to drop to the ground and cry from how bad his brain is hurting. He keeps walking. He doesn’t know where to, but he continues.

They really did love him, he knows this more than anything, and he loves them too but… but dammit, they never gave him a chance; bribing him to get the impossible done, trivializing his problems, equating him to some other ‘normal’ kid. He couldn’t stand it. He had his phone taken a few days ago, over the 4-day weekend he had, and he was devastated, he was wanting to spend time with some friends. He also had wanted to get things done. He needed to shower, he needed to do homework, but he also had to do chores, and unfortunately, he never had energy for anything else after them. His mind swirled with deadlines, but he couldn’t do it, he was out of energy, he had been pulling from his reserves for two weeks and now he was overdrawn, and he couldn’t muster up enough to do anything else. He had been hit with a bout of depression recently and that with all of the shit that had taken place that week and his self-loathing, he was teetering off the edge and he was terrified of snapping and blowing his lights out. He shook his head, attempting to pull his thoughts away from there.

As he walked, he saw it start to snow. He grimaced, ignoring it in favor of continuing onwards. He passed the McDonalds and felt his lips tug upwards, remembering when him and a bunch of his friends had gone before tearing through the shopping center like lunatics. He remembered their smiling faces, their jingling laughter, and then was haunted by their faces of judgement and disgust. He pointedly looked forwards, trying to focus on walking. He passed his school, empty and dark on  Saturday, and remembered when he and his friends would scream and howl with laughter waiting for the public bus to the local library, the times they would raid their friends houses without warning, just crashing on the couch and playing games of all types. Lots of those friends had moved, he was reminded. He hadn’t seen or heard from them in years now, no matter how desperately he tried to keep in contact. He wondered how they were doing; what they would think of the person he’d become. He passed the turn off that would go to that park, the one right outside their old house, the one they held countless parties at, the ones that reminded him of that happy mindless joy he hadn’t felt in years. He remembered those friends who had just stopped talking with him, those people who gradually grew apart from him, the ones he had falling outs with. He kept walking, picking up his pace as he grew colder and felt his eyes overflow.

He passed the library, electing to ignore the flood of memories of booking the study rooms that they would mess around in, they rarely actually got their homework done, electing to sing showtunes on the table and listen to two of their friends play the ukulele together, teasing each other about crushes they had, complaining about the teachers they disliked, ending the excursion with hugs as one by one they went home. He kept walking and walking until his feet stopped fully by the on ramp of the freeway. He jumped over the small barrier, sitting with his legs dangling over the interstate, his arms looped around the bars behind him. He had done it countless times before, enjoying the rushing sound the cars made as they slipped by under him. It was different this time, almost imperceptibly to anyone else. The tear tracks on his cheeks were clear, invisible to the glancing eye. The fidgeting kick of his legs was ever so slightly more erratic. His grip on the bars were ever so slightly tighter, yet also the loosest hold he could have. He leant forward, feeling the wind rush through his hair as he slowly lost feeling in his arms.

Numbly, he registered the sound of the bars tinging, the sound that comes from another person jumping over the rail as well. He felt a warm jacket be wrapped round him. He loosely felt his neck turn to look at the other person, recognizing him immediately. It was one of his peers, his name was Logan, he thought. He was in all the same accelerated courses that he was in. They had spoken a few times out of necessity, but they hadn’t really been close. Roman wasn’t close to anyone really, not anymore.

He had been in fights with all the kids who were a grade above him, his old best friend didn’t even invite him to their graduation. No goodbye, no hugs, no texts to make plans to see each other again, no “H.A.G.S. you nerd ;)” written on each other’s yearbooks, just, slipping away as if their relationship had meant nothing. It was painful. The friends he had in his grade weren’t quite as dramatic. They just, stopped liking the same things. They drifted apart. Its wasn’t sudden, he could have done something. But he didn’t. he just, stood by as his friends were more like strangers as days went by. He remembered sitting in the back of the game store, playing DND and magic and spinoffs and rip-offs, until they got kicked out at closing time. Now they barely looked his way when they passed in the halls, too busy with new friends, better friends.

“what's on your mind?”

He was ripped out of his thoughts by Logan, who had a sympathetic look in his eyes. He looked down at the cars and numbly pulled the jacket that was wrapped around him on fully, relishing in the warmth it radiated. He replaced his arms around the bars carefully before answering.

“a lot. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“considering how close you look to plummeting into the interstate, and the fact that you now have my jacket, I think it is.”

Roman looked at him with a searching eye, seeing the smirk that came as he made his second point, and realizing that he was stuck now.

“… I'm just depressed. That’s all. Its nothing outstanding. I just feel alone.”

“that’s fair. Do you want to talk about it?”

“why do you care? I barely know you; you have no reason to be concerned about me. I might as well just be another number in a statistic they tell middle schoolers to scare them.”

Logan looked thoughtful for a moment before responding slowly and carefully.

“every statistic is made from real lives that matter. Every statistic relies on those data points. No matter how you feel, you are more important than a number on a graph. You have people who care about you. Your brain is deceiving you in making you-”

“yeah yeah, I know people care for me and all that junk. I know that. It just doesn’t matter. They’ll get over it. They’ll… they’ll forget about me sooner than they'd think. I’d be fresh in their minds for less than a year. They'd be sad on the anniversary for anther three maybe. They'd get over it. They'd function better than I am currently. They'd dwell less than me. they'd be better off.”

“you don’t really believe that do you?”

“… just because I don’t believe it doesn’t mean its not true. Did you know that 15 women an hour are hit in Nike manufacturing factories? Completely unbelievable. Completely true.”

“Roman you matter more than you expect. There are people who would be devastated for years if you died. I could bet there’d be another two suicides that would domino if you let go right now. There are people who only have you left, and if you were gone, they'd feel just as hopeless as you do now. This is high school, this isn't permanent. Don’t you want to live to see how right everyone was about college? Don’t you want to live to be able to go to a karaoke bar with your college friends? Don’t you want to live to fall in love again? To see Lin Manuel Mirandas newest Broadway hit? To be able to go see a Broadway show live instead of from a shitty pirated video on YouTube? There's so much to live for, they may be small, but they're there. Do really want to give up before you can hear your mom say she loves you again?”

Roman felt tears welling up and spilling over his cheeks. He wanted so desperately to just believe him. To give in to the idea that he mattered. But he just couldn’t. Not yet.

“why do you think I care about all that, huh? You don’t know me Logan, you don’t know how I feel.”

“who says I don’t?”

Roman blinked, looking back at him. Logan continued.

“who says, that I haven’t walked past this interstate every day, wanting so desperately to throw myself off, but not because I knew I had to hold on for my little brother, who has been suffering from clinical depression. Who says I haven’t held on to just hear my favorite teacher again? Who says I haven’t seen you every day since third grade with that brilliant smile and stunning passion singing through the halls, that I didn’t notice when it slowed, when it was a treat to hear your voice, that I didn’t notice when it stopped all together, when you dropped choir and threw yourself into your studies so much that you rarely smiled other than that little hint when you got good news that dropped just as quickly. Who says I never overheard when you blasted Hamilton just a little too loud in your headphones at lunch? Who says I cant name every single person in the school who is waiting for that one person to give up so they can feel like they are allowed to go with them, who feel like they only have that one thread holding them here and as soon as they're gone there's no point left in living. Who says I'm not one of them? Roman I know you feel alone, I understand, but you don’t know just how much of a ripple you make. You matter so much to so many people. Please, please don’t let go. Jump back over to the other side of the railing with me and go home.”

Roman could hear the pleading in Logan’s voice. He wasn’t sure if he really believed it all, if he really felt like it was worth it to back off, but he couldn’t handle how depressed and lost he sounded, how jaded. He stood and leaped back over, smiling softly when Logan did the same. He started to pull off the jacket when he was stopped again.

“hey, don’t worry about it, I live close by. You can return it to me on Tuesday.”

There was a glint in his eyes and Roman chuckled at the kind-hearted trick. Because he knew that Roman would make a point of returning it, which meant he would have to make it to Tuesday. He nodded, and after a second’s hesitation, wrapped Logan in a hug. whispering a ‘thank you’ before turning to walk home. If he had eyes in the back of his head, he would have seen the longing glance Logan made at the on ramp, and the set glance back at him, before he turned the opposite way.

 -

On Tuesday things would be better. He would have talked with his parents and come to an understanding, he would have accomplished things he had wanted to, and he would be in generally higher spirits. He would let a smile slip more often, his true genuine one with his teeth on display, and he would laugh at the stupid silly jokes he heard. He would have his head up more, he would notice the smiles from friends he thought long estranged and start up a conversation, inviting some of them to a mall crawl later after school.

He would return Logan’s jacket and ignore the weird looks people gave him. He would talk more freely, he would joke with Logan about comic books and their latest obsessions, he would sit with Logan at lunch, he would get his phone back and steal Logan’s number. He would talk with his online friends about how he had felt when everyone had left the groups, and hear them out, instead of jumping to conclusions that they hated him now. He would let himself feel. He would let himself be okay. Things wouldn’t get better immediately, but he would work at it.

He would let himself live, and fall in love, and cry. He would heal. He wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t give up. Not on Tuesday. Not the month after. Not after he went on a less than perfect date with Logan, when it started raining and the highway flooded leaving them stranded at home stuck watching old Disney movies on his couch. Not when a month after that he didn’t get a role in the school play and he spent an hour crying on the phone with Logan. No, he wasn’t going to feel great all the time, but things would get better. Logan was right all that time ago. The pain he feels isn't permanent. He would be okay.

-

Foregoing the taglist this time because of how venty this is. If you would like to be tagged in more trigger heavy fics let me know so I can make a separate list.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing.

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty.

[binnie-binnie-bambam]

where I’ve been...?

hey. I feel like I owe y’all an explanation as to where I’ve been for the last 3 months. but imma put it the whole big detailed story under the cut just in case y’all don’t care haha and coz I don’t wanna clog up people’s feed with my incessant rambling.

TL;DR: I’ve been through 3 months of mental hell and that took a big toll on everything, including my love of a lot of things, so I’ve been struggling but I’m gonna try to be on here more and I’m sorry for being away for so long and not saying anything about it. Thank you to everyone who has tagged me in things and sent me messages during this time, I have seen it, I promise, even if I haven’t been in the right headspace to respond, you have made this time even just a bit more bearable, and for that I thank you greatly.

so yeah, things have been rough to say the least. I want to explain what’s been going on because I’ve always been pretty open on here and I know a lot of other people struggle with the same things so I don’t feel so alone. basically, I’ve fallen into another awful depression. I’ve lost my passion and drive and desire, I’ve lost the ability to find joy in things, I have no interest in hardly anything at all, I’m just not...me...right now.

I mean, my whole summer was crazy busy because I was spending almost all of my time doing wedding prep for my best friend/cousin’s wedding so I really didn’t have much time for myself and if I did, I was too exhausted to do anything I wanted to do. that’s when my partial inactivity started. I also started to see a new psychiatrist over the summer and he started me on new meds around August. since August, over a span of ~5 months, I’ve been on and off 6+ new meds, being treated for severe anxiety, panic attacks that resurfaced after being free of them for over 4 years, severe depression, ADHD, and trying different things to see if I had bipolar, as well as having a heart condition, thyroid issues, and fibromyalgia all going haywire.

I was pretty much ok through September, aside from some not so fun side effects that got me on and off 3 new meds in that month alone. like my mood and motivation and everything was fine, we had the engagement party and bachelorette party at the beginning of the month, I got to spend a bunch of time with the guy I have a (stupid) crush on, I was busy, things were going pretty great, honestly. but October rolled around. the first half wasn’t so bad, we had a girls’ trip for a weekend sort of as a last hoorah before my best friend got hitched and that was a lot of fun and I’m super thankful I was able to go, especially since I originally thought I wasn’t going to be able to make it due to family circumstances.

and wedding prep continued on, until I was driving over to my aunt’s house for the last day of prep and things started to hit me. my aunt and I got really close this past year and this was the last time I was spending with her for a long time, like sure we see each other once in a while but I was going over there and going shopping with her and doing all sorts of stuff multiple times a week and I think I just got scared of the idea that I was facing a new normal all over again when my normal had already changed so drastically at the beginning of last year. and also the fact that my best friend was getting married and moving an hour away when she used to be 10 minutes away and I saw her all the time. like we had the rehearsal dinner the Sunday before the wedding and my oldest cousin made this speech (because she knew she’d be sobbing too much to actually make it at the wedding) and she talked about us three girls as kids growing up and all this stuff about my best friend and how perfect her fiance was for her and it was just all really sobering I guess?

and I spent a lot of nights that week writing and rewriting a letter to the couple and I definitely spent most of that time sobbing over everything and sometime that week my mood just plummeted. my dad got /really/ concerned because the change in me was /so/ drastic but there wasn’t much we could do with only a few days until the wedding so we just hoped for the best and waited till my appointment with my psychiatrist to figure out the next step. I ended up getting a migraine at the wedding (I know it was from stress and from being so upset) so I couldn’t have a good time like I wanted to and I knew I’d regret it and I definitely regret it but I can’t change anything now. I got to hug the bride and groom goodbye just as they were leaving and I’ve never struggled so hard trying not to cry, which I mean, my best friend was sooo close to becoming a sobbing mess hugging me too, and the groom, well he was a blubbering mess (he’s a very emotional dude, all three of us have sobbed watching movies together, we’re a sight lmao) so I didn’t feel too strange haha. but it was a really weird feeling and it was really hard to sleep at the hotel that night. we drove home in the rain the next morning and did absolutely nothing the entire day.

then the news hit about Woojin and I spent my Monday night quite literally sobbing myself to sleep. at that time, I was still pretty new to skz but it still hurt like hell and I know my depression warped the emotions out of proportion but it was still so incredibly painful. but nothing could prepare me for the news about Wonho. nothing. I was already so deep into my depression and that just, I still don’t even have words. something hasn’t hit me that hard in I don’t even know how long. I couldn’t even cry, it took me over 2 months to cry about it because it just hurt too much. I still can’t listen to any of their music, I can’t even see photos of them without bursting into tears, and I’m ashamed at myself for being so attached to something that I react this badly, but even more so, I’m upset with myself that I can’t support them when they need it most because it causes me so much physical and emotional pain I just can’t deal with it. I’m not giving up on them, god no, I know it probably sounds like I am, but I swear I’m not. I love them way too much for that. it’s not even possible to describe how much mx and Wonho mean to me, I’m not giving up on them, I’m just handling things in my own way at my own pace, I guess.

from then on, things just spiraled out of control. on and off more meds, more and more problems arose, I really felt like I could not keep my head above water. and on top of it, I had the 7th anniversary of my grandma’s death in early November and the 10th anniversary of my grandfather’s death in early December and to say the least, that did not have the best effect on my mental health. it’s been 3 months of pretty much hell. I genuinely have /no/ interest in things I used to do, none of my hobbies, everything, and I mean everything, is a chore. it’s still like this. but I’m trying to do more to fix it. I’m seeing my doctor next week and I just spent 6 weeks getting another med out of my system so hopefully when I see him, he’ll try something new and we’ll actually make progress instead of taking 2 steps forward and 8 steps back. I haven’t lost hope yet.

there’s been many, many times in these past few months where I’ve felt like I’ve already hit rock bottom and I’m just waiting for the final blow to finish me off. but, if I’m being completely honest, what’s kept me going has been my really close friends on here that have stuck with me this whole time and my love for kpop which thankfully, god thank you, hasn’t diminished whatsoever despite everything. I can confidently say, I wouldn’t still be here without my friends, you know who you are my loves. y’all keep my world turning and no matter how painful it can get sometimes, I wouldn’t have made it this far, I wouldn’t want to keep going, I wouldn’t owe my life to you guys, so thank you, more than words can express. I love you all to the moon and back. and then some.

so this has just been paragraphs upon paragraphs of me rambling so I really don’t know why you would’ve stayed and read the whole damn thing, but if you did, thank you, I feel a lot better getting things off my chest. and this isn’t to say I’m back completely, I can’t guarantee how active I’ll actually be, but I’ll do my best to spend some more time on here because I genuinely do miss this place and all the amazing people in it. I’m so sorry I’ve been gone so long, especially without any real explanation. I’m going to do my best to rediscover my love for things, I may have lost it for a time, but it’s not gone completely.

~

until next time, this has been “aly won’t shut up”. thank you and goodnight, I love y’all

[amygeeunit]

The Quarantine Chronicles: These Last Five Years & What I Thought I Wanted

There’s nothing like being alone in your own thoughts at 1:00am in the midst of a global pandemic... Instead of aimlessly scrolling through my Instagram timeline or checking my bank account with all the money I have saved from not going out, I’ve had time to think about what the 28 year old, almost 29 year old Amy needs versus wants...

I think in high school or at some point in our lives we have all fallen victim to “By the time I’m age this, I want to have x, y and z.” At 16, I thought at 25 I would have my life 85% figured out. Pretty funny concept now that you think about it, right? I actually laugh at how naive or how troublesome it is to have these unrealistic goals and tag an age onto them... I pictured myself living in a nice apartment, potentially dating someone, or if not just focusing on my career. Fast forward to 2020, besides this year being a complete clusterf*ck, I’ve had extra time to sit down and think of these last five years in a nutshell.

All I remember from 2015 was going to Vegas, still working in retail, having foot surgery and getting into CSUF. The rest is foggy because it’s been five years. Huh? I thought 2015 was last year...

2016 seemed to be one of my better years. I started at CSUF, went to Iceland, interned at Rastaclat, ended up getting a job at Rastaclat, entered into my first serious relationship, moved back out to Orange County and felt like at 24 - 25 I was killing the game (or so I thought.)

2017 wasn’t too bad. I graduated from CSUF in the spring, went to Oahu, continued on in my relationship and spent a majority of my time focusing on my career.

2018 is when life started to get real interesting. My pup, Ben G, passed away while I was out in Illinois visiting my cousin (long story to save for another post,) I started a new job at Pretty Great LLC, traveled to escape 99% of the time, started taking birth control that made me bloated, emotional and feel weird and moved back to Moreno Valley. During this time, my relationship started to crumble due to lack of communication, the wave of grief I was experiencing and everything in else in between that couples go through. I started going to therapy in July and in August, I had my first panic attack. In September, I decided I needed to get as far away from my life as possible. I booked a flight to Japan to visit Sarah since she was stationed out in Yokosuka. Yokosuka has a naval base and is about an hour from Tokyo. I talked to my boss at work a few weeks prior and asked for a week and a half off. Luckily, he was one of the most understanding and best people I have ever worked for in my career so far. Most bosses would have told you to “Get over it” or “Figure it out.” Rob Myers was a saving grace for me that year for letting me have my time off to not think about life. 

While I was in Japan, I remember the time change messing me up quite a bit. I think it took around three days for me to finally be okay without passing out in the middle of the day. In short, this trip changed me. It changed how I traveled, it changed how I process emotions, it changed my outlook on life, it changed many things for me. I came back from this trip and my relationship was virtually over. I didn’t know how to feel, I didn’t know what to do, it just sort of fizzled like a candle using its last part of the wick. October came and I spent my birthday in Big Bear with my parents. I remember crying in the cabin when we got back from Octoberfest. I don’t think it really hit me that I was single, with no friends around and that 27 was already a shit show on day 1. I visited my best guy friend and his sisters in Arizona at the end of October to make up for the previous weekend. I had no idea that November could get any worse for me, but it did. It was two days before Thanksgiving, November 20th, 2018. 

I was driving from Moreno Valley to Santa Ana one morning on my way to work. I took my normal route, left at my normal time, a pretty standard commute. About 2 miles from work, I was at a stop light. At this stop light I waited for about 30 seconds while the other cars went. The light turned green. As I was pressing my gas to accelerate, out of nowhere, a semi truck plows its way through the intersection and t-bones my driver’s side. I remember screaming. I remember it being like a scene from a Final Destination movie where the victim doesn’t know that death or uncertainty is upon them. In that moment, I remember thinking “This is it.” My reflexes shifted real quick and that was it. I remember pulling off to the side of the road leading up to the 5 freeway. I felt like my soul left my body for seconds then came back. I was shaking. I called my dad first and let him know what had happened. I called my mom and then the insurance company. I exchanged words and information with the driver. I remember being upset, but I couldn’t yell or get any words out. I just went by the protocol of what to do when you get involved with an accident. Sure, I have been rear ended before, but never t-boned and let alone by a damn semi truck. This accident passed, I was awarded some half ass money and in the midst of it all, I remember being so mentally drained that I cried out for help on Instagram Stories... I remember going through survivors guilt. I remember saying to myself “Why am I still here? There are people that die in accidents or by drunk/distracted drivers all the time... Why do I still have to live this life of pain and suffering?” In my mind and in 2018, I never knew how to take pain and suffering very well. I didn’t know it would shape me for what these next couple years would throw at me. 

December came and went. It was like a sigh of relief for me to know that the vicious cycle of the 2018 rollercoaster was coming to an end. At this point, I kind of gave zero f*cks as to what happened in life. A few days before Christmas, I visited my Grandma in Illinois and my grandparents’ grave site. I think my trip to Illinois was some type of closure to my 2018 year. I hadn’t been back to Illinois since my Grandma’s funeral in 2011. It was a cold and frigid trip. It was the first trip I had ever driven by myself. The only cool thing was running into Ja Rule at the Palm Springs Airport (before the Fyre Festival documentary came out, otherwise I would have yelled at him.) He was on my flight to Chicago. Jeffrey Atkins, you sneaky motherfucker, you! How I wish I would have known about you tricking people with that one guy... I ordered a “Survived 2018″ crewneck from this small online business store, went to Disneyland with my mom on Christmas and threw caution to the wind.

2019 was interesting, but not as heavy as 2018. I called 2019 the year where I  “rushed to get back to normalcy.” I realized the commute to PG was getting tiring pretty fast, I accepted being single and got back into dance. Dance saved my life, point blank. Whether it was subbing, teaching, training or being on a team, it brought back a sense of joy and also established new friendships along the way. I started a job at a marketing agency in March 2019 that was a short commute and about 6 months in, I realized this was something I wasn’t a fan of. It took me a while to realize that that was okay to feel uneasy about the jobs I once knew.

If I had to rate 2019 on a point scale, I would say it was a 6/10. I felt like the last few months I was suppose to be back to normal and healed from a lot of things I kept to myself. Dating people was weird because 1. I felt behind. What I mean by that was I thought by age 27 - 28, I would have met my “person,” by now. As I seen other friends get proposed to, plan their weddings and start their families, I started to feel like the odd woman out. Was there something wrong with me? Am I that complicated or hard to love? Are my values not aligning with people I like? Am I going to be that person that gets married at 40 or even at all? Will I always be the friend and not the potential girlfriend or wife? Who knows? 2. The reciprocity factor of it all and setting boundaries. 3. I don’t think I ever got over everything that had happened in my first relationship because we never cheated on each other, our trust when out without each other was never questioned and there was a best friend component in it. I was filled with regret, frustration and memories I forced myself to black out even after going to therapy and journaling it. Fact: I dread my birthday each year. I don’t like my birthday in general, but October I have mixed emotions about. The anniversary of my Grandma’s death is on 10/13, my Grandpa’s birthday is 10/14 and my birthday is 10/20. I spent the last couple months of 2019 drinking more than usual, especially after my friend, Beka, passed away suddenly in November. December came and went. I had my first trip to Puerto Vallarta and enjoyed some much needed beach time. I had this “idea” that I would move to the east coast with Sarah because I wanted to start over. That idea went out the window. I ended 2019 with buying a new car after having paid off my Kia Forte back in 2016.

It’s now 2020 and boy... It has been a shit show for the world I feel like. I can’t even begin to describe what a rollercoaster of emotions everyone is feeling right now, but I do have one word for me personally: gratitude. I started off the year so uneasy with finding out my dad was diagnosed with colon cancer again for a second time. I remember going into February with no expectations, yet I had expectations (weird right?) Without going into too much detail I felt like that quote by DJ Khaled saying “Congratulations, you played ya self!” I was constantly frantic about work, friendships, relationships, my future, dance, my parents, basically everything. I was a walking, talking ball of stress. March came around and I downloaded Bumble (yup, I went there) and matched with a really nice guy who actually knew two of my nurse friends. Then, COVID-19 was in full effect in the states and suddenly the idea of dating or wanting any kind of human interaction made me cringe... I had to politely excuse myself and move on. I checked in on friends and they checked in on me. 

I’ve spent more time with my parents, more time on myself and then it finally clicked: I am where I need to be in this exact moment. I don’t want to date anyone in quarantine, I don’t want to understand or have expectations for another human like I’ve been searching for these last 6 months. What the fuck, Amy? You are everything you need right now and it is not in another person. I’ve danced in quarantine, I’ve cried in quarantine, I’ve laughed in quarantine, I’ve journaled in quarantine, I’ve found myself again in quarantine. As easy as it sounds for most people, the concept is quite large. Since I was 18 years old, I have ALWAYS wanted to live by myself and try it out. It’s ten years later and in the midst of this uncertain time period, I know that 2020 is the year that I finally accomplish this. So, in short, 2021 I’ll be back on the “dating” field or whatever, but 2020 is my year to literally work. on. myself. This includes: my relationship with myself, my relationship with my friends, family, acquaintances, coworkers, etc., my health regiment, my mental health, my physical health, my emotional health, I think you get the point, right? In a time where some of us feel alone, I feel secure. My days vary and maybe I’ll post something tomorrow where I say “That post was trash, quarantine was terrible,” and while it is on most days, I’m so grateful to connect more deeply with people on a spiritual and conversational level. I was tired of hiding behind my day-to-day busy routine when I finally came to terms with myself.

We are all in this together. We are all processing what we need and want. I use this blog as a way to express and share what so many people keep to themselves. Maybe you can relate, maybe you think I’m too out there. Either way, to each their own. 

Until next time.

[parkerparts]

tethered to nothing (nothing but you)

Parkner Week 2019 Day Seven: “Hurricane Tortilla” / Cartwheels / Angst

Check it out on AO3 here.

Harley falls in love with Peter the first time he sees him dance. That boy cartwheeled his way right into Harley’s heart, and his world has never been the same since. Some days, when he thinks no one is watching, Peter still moves across the floor as if he’s flying. Hurricane Tortilla, Abbie used to call him. A force to be reckoned with. When Peter dances, all his worry falls away, and he glows. 

Harley wishes Peter could dance forever. 

God, how Harley wishes he could watch Peter dance forever. 

Instead, it is another Monday, and Peter holds himself ramrod straight. Harley is the only one who knows Peter will fly out of this cage and leave them all behind as soon as he can. 

Meanwhile, the next period is the last review for Harley’s AP Physics midterm, and he hasn’t even touched his books. Abbie had a flare-up last night, and Harley was up all night trying to keep the fever down. It didn’t go down, and Mama kicked him out of the house that morning to go to school. 

Harley can’t shake the feeling that Abbie is slipping away at a rate approaching the speed of light. 

Even worse, he thinks Peter is too. 

Peter stands up, groaning lightly as he does. He’s been practicing nonstop all year in the shed-turned-studio in Harley’s backyard while Harley helps fill out his applications. His heart is set on Juilliard. 

“Are you okay?” Harley asks, shoving his books in his backpack. It’s lunchtime, and everyone is practically running out of the classroom, but Harley lingers. 

“I…” Peter hesitates, biting down on his lip. Harley understands. It’s the two-year anniversary of Ben’s death, and it surely hits Peter hard. 

“You don’t have to be okay. No one’s going to judge you, least of all me.” 

Peter sighs and turns away to pack away his things. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Before Harley can reply, Ned appears at their side with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys, but I am so not looking forward to midterms.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not either,” Harley says, glancing at Peter. He’s tense, looking down. 

Ned laughs. “Oh shut up. You’ll be fine.” Harley feels his face heat up. Sure, he’s a straight-A-student, but he works harder than people see for it, and with Abbie taking up his time, he’s not sure he’ll be as fine as people think he will be. He smiles tightly nonetheless, laughing along with Ned. 

“Midterms aren’t until next week. You guys will do great,” Peter pipes up. His smile is forced, and Harley wants nothing more than to take his hand and comfort him. 

“No stress? Lucky you,” Ned sighs. 

Peter shrugs. “I have better things to do than study.”

It makes Harley smile. “You’re a menace. How do I put up with you?”

Peter’s eyes say because I’m yours. His mouth smiles lightly and says, “Do you?”

Of course Harley does. He loves him. He never wants to let him go. 

“How was your break?” Ned asks, facing Peter. In another world, one with a happier Peter and a more carefree life, maybe Peter and Ned would be friends. Ned’s good for Peter, and it makes Harley smile. 

“It was fine. Didn’t study, that’s for sure. Didn’t really do anything, actually.” That’s a lie. Peter was at Harley’s house around dawn on Saturday, and he didn’t leave the makeshift studio until Harley chased him out just before midnight. 

“All weekend?” Ned says, leaning forward eagerly. 

Peter’s eyes dart to Harley’s questioning. Harley nods. Ned is good for Peter, and in another universe, maybe they’d be friends. “I found recordings of my parents’ auditions for the Royal Ballet.”

Ned’s eyes light up. “Were they good?”

It takes Peter by surprise. Harley can see it in his eyes and the easy way he smiles. Ned moved to Rose Hill at the beginning of the school year. He hasn’t heard Peter’s story yet. The tragic, tragic story. Peter’s parents were international sensations. The power couple of the dance world. They traveled the world together and danced at every great company. The truly endearing part was that they were a package deal. Neither of them took an offer if the other couldn’t come along with them. “They were amazing.”

Mary and Richard Parker died when Peter was four. He came down to Rose Hill from New York to live with his Uncle Ben and Aunt May. They enrolled him at the only dance studio in the area, a thirty minute drive away. Over the years, Peter became a star. He was one of three male dancers in the company but was the only principal. And he was only fifteen at the time. 

Then, Ben Parker died. May didn’t have enough money to pay the studio anymore, and Peter had to quit just as he was reaching the peak of his career. He still danced. Harley turned the shed in his backyard into a dance studio, and sometimes Peter would sneak into the school and dance in the music room. 

May doesn’t approve of Peter’s dream to dance. It’s more than a dream, really. Peter once told Harley that dance was his heartbeat. May, who became their little family’s primary provider, believes there is no money in dance. It crushes Peter to know his aunt doesn’t believe in him. It doesn’t matter, though. Peter won’t let anything get in between himself and dancing.

Dance is Peter’s ticket out of Rose Hill, and he deserves to be happy. Even though he could audition at places closer to home, he has his eyes set on his former hometown, New York. 

Harley and Peter both did, once. 

Harley’s fingers inch into his jacket pocket and curl around the admittance letter he’s been carrying around for weeks. 

Peter turns to Harley with an open expression. “What about you? Have you heard from NYU?”

Harley‘s breath hitches. “No, not yet.”

What can he tell Peter? That he has his own ticket out too, the one they’ve been longing for? That he can’t do anything with it? Before Abbie got sick, Harley would have leapt at the chance. He can’t leave now. 

Family once meant everything to Peter. Then, his family got torn to shreds. He would never understand. 

Harley lets go of the letter. 

Peter is following Ned to the cafeteria, and Harley hurries to catch up with them. He puts the letter aside in his mind. He has a few more months to decide, and maybe in that time, Abbie will get better. 

Or maybe she’ll die. Harley chokes on the thought, unbidden in his mind. Her death will set you free. 

“Harley?” He has just enough presence of mind to know that’s Peter’s voice, and he is hyperventilating in the middle of the hallway. People are probably staring, and he should probably get himself together. “Breathe with me.”

His lungs are burning, and he feels like he’s drowning. When Harley was five, and his father was still around, they went down to the gulf for a weekend. He was playing in the tide when a giant wave washed over him. It felt something like this. 

“Okay,” he chokes out. Peter has a hold on his elbow, and something in the back of Harley’s mind is screaming to shake Peter off. They can’t just do things like that at Rose Hill, but he’s also dying, so maybe it will be fine.

Peter starts talking, and his steady voice always brings Harley back to himself. “Mom did Medora from Le Corsaire, and Dad did Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet. They were both turners, just like me. A family of hurricanes. Mom was well-known for her fouette turns, but she always complained that she didn’t have any back flexibility. Ben used to say I must get it from my Dad. It’s such a shame that male acro dance isn’t really popular. There’s not a lot of good variations that feature turning and flexibility, especially for men. I was thinking of performing original choreography. I’ve been playing around with some ideas, but I haven’t found anything that speaks to me.”

“Actaeon.” Harley’s aware enough to realize that they’re in a classroom, away from everyone else. It helps him breathe a little easier. 

Peter smiles. “You just liked that one because I was shirtless. And practically naked, for that matter.”

“Fine. You caught me.” Peter looks gorgeous when he laughs, the way he leans his head back and looks so open and vulnerable. It’s rare that he laughs that genuinely anymore, so Harley soaks it all in with a bittersweet greed.

All Peter cared about was dancing. All he cared about was Harley. But he never told anyone about either. Too afraid Rose Hill might disapprove. Too afraid knowing his family, May, definitely would. Peter never lets on how he feels. No fear. No anger. No happiness unless he’s dancing. He used to be happy around Harley. Harley doesn’t know if that’s true anymore.

In a better world, Harley would tell the world about Peter. He would shout it from the rooftops, how amazing Peter is. How in love with Peter he is. 

Overwhelmed and against his better judgement, Harley opens his mouth to tell Peter that. To tell Peter he loved him. Instead, the door opens, and Mr. Meadows, one of the history teachers, walks in. 

“Boys, what are you doing here? Go on, it’s lunch time.”

“Yes, sir,” Harley mumbles instead. Peter follows him outside. 

“Is it alright if I come over after work tonight?” Peter asks. 

Harley nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your studio. Why do you still ask that?”

“You’ve been busy lately. I didn’t know if things have been bad at home or something.” Harley’s heart skips a beat. 

“No. We’re fine. Abbie’s got the flu or something, and I’ve been taking care of her.”

Peter’s eyes soften. “Let me know if I can do anything, alright?”

Harley wishes Peter could help. He wishes for any kind of help at all, but alas. Smiling carefully back, he says, “I think we’re good, but thank you.”

#

Peter’s late. That’s not normal. Harley might be freaking out just a little bit. He groans, slamming his pencil down and picking up his phone. Nothing from Peter.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Abbie says. She’s in bed, watching Harley attempt to finish the last of his homework. “Maybe something came up with May, and he can’t come tonight?”

“Yeah, but he’d let me know.” He shoots a quick text to Peter, the fifth in a chain of unanswered messages. “I’m going to the studio. Maybe he’s already there, and he just forgot to text me.”

Abbie looks out the window by her bed. It has a clear view of the studio, which is dark. “Okay. Take a jacket.”

“Call me if you need me.” Harley retrieves his jacket from Abbie’s bed under her pitying gaze and practically runs out of the house, slipping on a patch of ice in their driveway. The studio is still dark, and Peter’s not in it. Harley sends another text, sitting on the bench in the studio with a sigh.

There’s a sound outside, muffled by the howling wind. “Harley?”

“Peter?” Harley calls, running out of the studio. There’s Peter, leaning against the shed. His face is swollen, lip split, blood running down his cheek. Harley can’t see much else through the layers of clothing, but Peter’s favoring one leg. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you call me?”

“May took the car tonight, so I had to walk. Got jumped by a couple of guys at the bus stop.” Peter’s on the edge of tears, and he sounds so, so tired. Harley wants to scream. “I think my knee is dislocated.”

Harley’s heart stops. “What? No. Peter, that’s…”

“I know,” Peter whispers, and he’s really crying now. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Why didn’t you call the police? Or an ambulance?”

“They ran away. It wasn’t worth calling the police. And we can’t afford an ambulance. I was hoping you’d be able to help.”

Harley lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah. Okay. I’m driving you to the hospital.”

“Thank you, Harley.” Peter grabs onto his arm, looking up at him with shining eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He swallows down a sob. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you either.”

Harley carries Peter to the car, buckling him into the backseat and propping his leg up. He gives Peter his jacket because he’s shaking like a leaf, and Harley doesn’t know what else to do. After sending a text to Abbie and calling emergency services, he drives off.

The car is silent, save for Peter’s quiet crying. Harley’s doing his best not to cry, focusing on the icy roads. “Peter?”

“Yeah, Harls?”

“It’s going to be okay.” He chances a quick glance in the rearview mirror. “No matter what happens, today or any day in the future, we’re going to be okay.”

Peter is silent. “Why didn’t you tell me about NYU?”

Harley nearly swerves. They’re lucky no one is really on the road this late. “What?”

Peter holds up the admittance letter with an unreadable expression. Fuck. Harley forgot it had been in his jacket pocket. “What’s this?”

“I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“Because I can’t go!” Harley screams back. “I can’t go. Abbie’s sick. Like, might-die-before-she’s-twenty sick. I can’t leave her. Mom’s working all the time and can’t take care of Abbie, and someone needs to. We can’t afford in-home care.”

“But this is your dream, Harley. We were going to get out of here and start a new life in New York. A better life.”

“I know. I know, but I can’t leave Abbie.”

Peter stares at him through the rearview mirror. “So you’re giving up? Just like that, huh. You’re giving up everything you’ve ever dreamed of. You’re giving up on me.”

“No! I knew you wouldn’t understand, Peter.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to understand. You kept this a secret for how long?”

“Three weeks,” Harley whispers. “Peter, I’m sorry.”

“Save it,” Peter snaps, slamming the paper down on the console. “I don’t want to hear it.”

They get to the emergency room and wait in silence. Peter starts crying again at some point, but when Harley reaches out to comfort him, he flinches away. It’s like a punch in the gut. Harley stops trying, just curls up in the waiting room chair and sticks around.

When they finally call for Peter, Harley can’t resist. He grabs onto Peter’s hand, forces the other boy to look at him. “Peter...”

Peter’s lips crash into his. In the middle of a half-full waiting room. In front of everyone. Harley doesn’t care. All he can feel are the unspoken words between them. In one kiss, he tries to tell Peter everything. That he’s sorry. That there are things they have to figure out. That they’ll do it together. That his heart belongs to Peter, if he’ll have it. It’s all he has to give.

“I love you,” Peter whispers, hoarsely. 

“I love you too.”

#

Peter is having surgery on his leg. His kneecap is shattered, and his ligaments are torn. He won’t go to Juilliard for his audition. He might not dance again, or he might work hard and try again next year. 

Harley sits in his car and reads the NYU letter until the words are imprinted on his brain. They are tied to Rose Hill, and maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. They take root and blossom, but they never, ever leave.

Harley doesn’t know much. Not anymore, when his world his fraught with changing tides, uncertainty, and a tether to Rose Hill. He does know that he loves Peter, and maybe that will be enough.

[fuckyeahkagepro]

KINDA... just VENTING HERE A BIT but

You all, not gonna lie, I’m tired. I’m. very. TIRED.

I tried to lighten the mood a bit with Pride headcanons (also because I got that huge burst of inspiration to FINALLY SAY THEM YEAH but)

----- I’m tired.

I’ve been in this fandom for a VERY. LONG. TIME. Y’know? since Kisaragi Attention was new is when I REALLY began paying attention. But technically I was seeing Kagepro all over my dash since KONOHA’S STATE OF THE WORLD WAS NEW. (And tbh a bit before that too tbh it was probably more like since Imagination Forest) BUT YEAH I’VE SEEN THINGS.

IF YOU WERE HERE pre-2016, I’m probably ? AWARE OF YOU if you’ve posted a lot. (ESPECIALLY IF YOU USED THE MAIN TAGS. OR MAKE CONTENTS.)

If you WERE HERE SINCE 2012 ERA --- I am almost DEFINITELY aware of you (TO AN EXTENT). (because i was a huge lurker and never actually interacted with people much) but I know those who were here probably realize that I AM AWARE OF YOU.

WAY BACK when I first made this blog, I was basically a nobody. (to an extent I STILL AM A NOBODY when it comes to content creations because WHOA I cannot art at all) All I did was? Reblog Kagepro. and make an amv once but yeah REBLOGGED. A LOT. OF KAGEPRO.

FROM EVERYONE. E V E R Y O N E.

(and there were still many, many, M A N Y more blogs doing the same) I’ve been searching old archives for canon references lately - I’d see YEARS-OLD arts, gifs, etc. - go ‘wait, did I reblog that already?’ - WHOOPS YUP I DID

If you were very active then, you PROBABLY have A TAG on this blog this is because I have xkit set to automatically tag by username of OPs ... And you know what I’m seeing a lot of, LATELY ?

A LOT OF PEOPLE who seemingly ----- WELL.

-- You know what, LET ME BACKTRACK A BIT.

YOU ALL WANT TO KNOW WHAT HELPED THIS BLOG KEEP GOING ?

(^ “6 YEARS AGO”)

(^ FYI to anyone who may still be wondering: YES YOU CAN)

(^ I HAVE VERY VIVID MEMORIES OF THIS DAY) (^ AND RECEIVING THIS ASK YEAH) (^ I WAS LITERALLY OUT OF TOWN WHEN STR DROPPED)

(^ FYI IF YOU’RE STILL WONDERING:

WELL WE FINALLY HAVE “MY FUNNY WEEKEND” BUT IN TERMS OF A PV

Y E S ) [ ALSO YOU KNEW ME SURPRISINGLY WELL FOR BACK THEN ]

(^ “ the only bad thing is that everyone is now gone ” ) ....................

Hey. hey. SEE ALL OF THAT? YEAH. IT’S NOT A LOT. and there were some scattered others and the like. BUT.

I’ve elaborated on the following before in tags but let me elaborate again.

Late AUGUST, of 2012. My grandfather (mom’s side) passed. After a years-long battle with cancer (leukemia).

August of 2013 was the first-year anniversary of my grandfather’s passing.

When I was “out of town”? IT WAS BECAUSE OF THAT. (SUMMERTIME RECORD DROPPED DURING THAT TIMEFRAME)

I SERIOUSLY HAD CONSIDERED STOPPING ALL OF MY SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS DURING THIS TIMEFRAME.

But you know what? YOU KNOW WHAT? 2013, BRIEFLY, FOR ME, WAS ... FUN. It was a wild ride Jin gave us but IT WAS FUN. and I sobbed because of Summertime Record

Late August, 2015.

My grandmother (dad’s side - yeah, my Jewish side) passes. literally one day before the anniversary of my other grandfather’s death

I was, again, considering stopping all of my social media. ESPECIALLY in the years that followed

.. but you know what? Kept me going?

More of those random asks, above. AND

some of my favorite series I loved to death were still ongoing at the time, INCLUDING KAGEPRO. I realized there actually WAS a lack of canon references blogs for this series since around then.

I just... kept reblogging things. All the news. All the translations I could find, etc. Because I loved Kagepro.

I was keeping up with the manga because I ENJOYED THE MANGA. I was keeping up with the novels because I ENJOYED THE NOVELS. I was keeping up with Jin’s random events like Seek at Mekakucity and Mekakucity Talkers because I ENJOYED THEM MEKAKUCITY RELOAD ANIME WAS ANNOUNCED IN 2016 WE STILL DON’T HAVE IT

I was keeping this blog going FOR THOSE WHO LOVED KAGEPRO

... I’m not sure I’m enjoying the state of the fandom as it is now.

Because you know what? You know what I’m seeing, HEARING, lately?

People I saw posting often, back then.

people I REBLOGGED, BACK THEN, BECAUSE I LOVED YOUR WORKS PEOPLE WHO HAD TAGS ON MY BLOG

People I ADMIRED, BACK THEN.

Changing into people I no longer admire.

I want you to sit back and THINK about that for a good while.

Because I’m NOW having to go through my blog, REMOVING WORKS FROM PEOPLE I USED TO ADMIRE

BECAUSE I REFUSE TO “PROMO” YOU ANYMORE

Because I’m seeing you trying to justify saying, DOING, awful things to others in this fandom

All because the canon isn’t going your way.

And you know what ? You know what all this fighting over it HARMS IN THE END ?

It harms this series you claimed to love. It harms this fandom you claim to enjoy.

IT HARMS JIN.

it turns MORE and MORE people away from this series, this fandom

think about that for a moment.

(and yeah, Jin DID go temporarily homeless that one time in 2016.) (it’s mentioned by him in his afterword for “over the dimension”, the 6th novel.) (you know, if you didn’t know.)

(I’m sure all this endless fighting over the current canon is SURELY helping Jin)

[prettywordsyouleft]

Too Good To Be Wrong - Part 7

Summary: No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t resist Park Chanyeol, even if you knew it would test everything that you thought family stood for.

Genre: childhood friends & “siblings” to lovers au / forbidden romance / older woman - younger man au

Characters: Park Chanyeol x female reader

A/N: This is a series about falling in love with your “brother” Chanyeol - your family took him in when you were younger. It will contain mature content in later parts, but for the majority of the story it’s about reconnecting as adults and discovering feelings for each other.

I am expecting Too Good to be Wrong to be around 10 parts long, but this could change depending on how the story progresses in further parts.

Too Good To Be Wrong will be posted every Tuesday at 10am NZST.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

There was one anniversary each year where, whether you were busy with work or not, you had always gone home for. Even though you could escape returning home for a few of the holidays due to the distance between Seoul and your hometown, and the inconvenience it would have on travelling back in time for work, this was one date that no excuse could ever justify skipping it. Not that you actually would want to.

This year, you would be travelling back with Chanyeol to pay respects to his parents’ death together. He had grown louder over the last week, doing more activities when he was home with you to keep himself occupied. It surprised you how alike he still was to when you both lived together all those years ago. You would never forget how many movie marathons you had endured or the endless hours spent in an arcade just to keep him distracted enough from the impending date on the calendar. Not that it really worked, but you would humour him every single time, knowing you would be lost without your own parents like he was.

Nothing much had changed now either.

“Let’s watch all the Iron Man movies back to back,” Chanyeol suggested over the weekend and you nodded happily, even laughing when he called you the Pepper Potts to his Tony Stark. And then when that was over, he had been up all night playing Fortnite, not coming to bed until you woke up at three in the morning and felt that his space in your bed was still cold and empty. You pulled yourself up and padded out into the living room.

“Chan, come to bed,” you called out to him sleepily, his eyes darting from the screen momentarily to yours. You moved over to his place on the sofa and sighed. “It’s time for bed, actually it’s way past your bedtime.”

“Ah, I have just-”

“No now. Tomorrow we have to drive back home. And whilst I can do that for us, you still need some rest.”

“Right… right.”

You could see the reluctance clear in him even as an adult. You often forgot how much he adored his parents. You obviously knew he did, it was a given for most children to love those who brought them into this world. But it had been so easy for Chanyeol to slip into your family dynamics and how natural the relationship was between him and your parents often blurred the lines in your head. You knew there was a time before he lived with you, but it had been so long ago it was easy to feel as if it had always been like this.

Until moments like these, where he looked scared to face the past and tried to avoid it. Your heart broke when Chanyeol looked up at you with round eyes and you reached for him, wrapping yourself around him and cradling his head to your chest. You stroked his hair and you were certain you could hear muffled sniffles coming from within your embrace. When you finally pulled away, a watery smile graced his lips and he nodded.

“Let’s go to bed.”

The trip back home was quiet. Thankfully from his lack of sleep last night, Chanyeol had slept for most of it, giving you the chance to focus on all you had to today. Your mother had rung to tell you about some ingredients she needed you to bring home for the offering and you knew you would be needed in the kitchen to help prepare some of the food as well. Your family was always sombre today, not just for Chanyeol’s sake. Your parents had lost their most cherished friends that day as well.

When Chanyeol stirred from his slumber you were almost home and he cleared his throat quietly. “Let’s go to the crematorium first.”

After parking the car, you both silently went into the building, purchasing a small bouquet of flowers to stick on the front of their plot which Chanyeol placed on as soon as you stood in front of them. You smiled at the photos inside the case, remembering how you had seen their own smiles so often in person. You couldn’t help but feel a little emotional, especially when Chanyeol started to tremble beside you.

“Hi, Mum and Dad, it’s your son here,” he greeted and you bit at your lip to prevent your emotions from spilling down your cheeks. “It’s been a while. Your son got a really good job and is living well in the city. Though I still check on the parents you left me with too, don’t worry. They’ve raised me well.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now and looked down at your feet.

“Ah, I wanted to introduce you to someone!” Chanyeol said hoarsely after babbling on about his life recently, and suddenly he sounded happier as he spoke. “My girlfriend is here to greet you both. You’ll be proud to know I’m with Y/N now, right? We’ve been together for four months and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. You always told me to stick to my dreams, and this one finally came true.”

You glanced up through the stream of your emotions, watching as Chanyeol grinned at the photo in the case as if he could feel his parents’ happiness about your relationship. You turned and looked at them, bowing lightly.” Hello mother, father. It’s been a long time.”

You didn’t spend too much more time in the crematorium, your emotions affecting both of you. Chanyeol slipped his hand into yours and you walked back to the car swinging your hands lightly. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Thank you for being like every k-drama out there and introducing me to your parents,” you admitted with a small laugh. “I always thought those scenes were so silly but now, I understand the impact it can have.”

“I always wanted to bring you in front of them that way. My Dad knew I liked you as a kid and always told me that one day you would look at me differently. I guess he was right.”

“I still see you as the Chanyeol I’ve known my whole life, you know.”

He grinned. “But somehow you fell in love with me.”

“I guess I did.” You both smiled at each other and then you hugged him once you arrived at the car. “This feels nice. Being introduced as your girlfriend to someone I know.”

You hadn’t realised how much you had longed for such a thing. You weren’t exactly secretive in Seoul about your relationship; no one knew that you had grown up under one roof there. But with not telling your parents, well, you hadn’t realised it was something you yearned for.

Or that Chanyeol felt that way too. “One set of parents down, another to go.”

“What?” You glanced up at him, perplexed. Sure, it felt nice, but there was no way you were actually telling your parents. You could imagine the dramatic reaction of your mother immediately.

“We need to tell our parents about us.”

“No, we don’t.” Pulling away from the embrace, you unlocked Chanyeol’s car and climbed in. He sighed and walked around to the other side of the vehicle and sat down heavily. He was confused by your reaction. “Our parents will kill us.”

“So you plan on dating me on the sly forever?”

“Can’t we?”

Chanyeol looked at you incredulously. “What about when we get engaged? Do you plan on having them turn up on the day of our wedding and tell them then that we fell in love? Or worse, are we eloping so they can’t stop us?!”

“We’re getting married?” you asked softly and Chanyeol groaned loudly in response. “Chan, come on, like you said to your parents just now, we’ve only been dating for four months. It’s hardly time to consider everything like that.”

Even though now you were imagining yourself walking down the aisle to him, as he looked dashing in a tuxedo. You weren’t prepared to admit that you had thought of this countless of times recently without his prompting.

“I’ve considered everything like that with you.”

“Really?” you asked, the hurt evident in his eyes. Just how often would you be faced with that look, knowing Chanyeol had loved you for such a long time? You were forever playing catch up and it felt unfair when his emotions overwhelmed you.

Sighing heavily, you decided telling him wouldn’t be such a problem. “Well, maybe I have too. But we have all the time in the world to-”

“My parents would often say that,” he interjected, smiling wistfully. Chanyeol looked over at you. “We will need to tell them, Y/N.”

You reluctantly agreed. “When the time is right.”

_________________

Part 8

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[oxatouchofthewickedxo]

Saturn’s Return

this post is more for my own benefit bc my memory sucks so you can stop reading now if ya want.

so a while back when i watched parks and recreation all the way through for the first time, i got very intrigued by the conversation that donna and april had about the concept of saturn’s return. which if you don’t know, saturn will return to the exact spot it was when you were born around 27-29 years later. apparently this is a time for rebirth and renewal as well as a shedding of your child self so you can begin the process of growing up and becoming an adult.

not too long after that, i happened to be really paying attention to the lyrics of “the grudge” by tool in which maynard talks about saturn ascending and forcing you to make a choice in your life. didn’t really do much research on it at the time because i was actually in the bath tub while listening to it and like i said, my memory is terrible so by the time i got out and got dressed, it slipped my mind.

last night, my best friend came over to my fiance & i’s house and somehow this concept of saturn’s return came up in conversation which sparked the tool song in my head again. i began to look into it and apparently this theory is extremely prevalent in the land o’ tool. i’m just gonna list the things that may be all in my head but considering maynard and the insanity of all that tool is, i highly doubt it:

1. at least 2 songs have this concept as a theme: the grudge and jambi

2. 10,000 days is the title of an album as well as a song. saturn’s return takes roughly 10,000 days.

3. opiate came out in 1992, 10,000 days came out in 2006, and fear inoculum came out this year, 2019. so in my opinion, opiate is like the birth of tool, 10,000 days come out 14 years later which suggests they are midway through their journey as a band, then in 2019 which is 27 years later, saturn returns and tool as we know them have reached their peak. so i believe that if tool does in fact make another album after this, they may not be the tool we are all used to. 

4. lateralus is 78 minutes and 51 seconds long. 78 minus 51 is 27.

5. the grudge is 8 minutes and 36 seconds long, 36-8 is 28.

please note that i do realize that lateralus came out before 10,000 days but i am just pointing out the constant use of these numbers throughout the band’s history. if i didn’t know maynard the way that i do, i would think these were all just coincidences but i have learned so many times throughout the last 9 years that there literally are NO coincidences in this band. everything has meaning. LITERALLY everything.

as far as my personal experiences with saturn’s return, i truly believe this is a real thing. my fiance was 28 years old when we met in 2010 and he turned 29 3 months later. this was a time of internal struggle, self discovery, and straight up insanity for him. he had been using crack for about 4 years at this point and was at this precipice with it where he literally hated how the drug made him feel but his addiction would get the best of him every time and he would end up using. however, something came over him one day and he decided that he wasn’t going to let this happen anymore so he voluntarily went to rehab and he came home a new man. sure, there have been a couple of slip ups here and there, but no binges and definitely a different type of regret afterwards. literally from that moment that he made his mind up to better himself, he has been a completely different person. he is the most incredible human being i know and i am so grateful for whatever clicked in his brain to make him change.

flash forward to now and i am currently 29 years old and the last 4 months have been the most life shaping ones of my life. on august 13th of this year i got fired from my job. 2 weeks later, the cops showed up at our house looking for me. luckily, i had literally just left 5 minutes before this so i didn’t end up in jail. turns out there was a warrant out for my arrest due to a driving under suspension charge i had gotten in may when i got pulled over for speeding. i had absolutely no idea my license was suspended by the way. but anyway, i completely forgot to go to my court date and for some reason, they never sent me anything about the rescheduled one so hence the warrant. due to the fact that not only was i unemployed, but also the cops showed up twice in one day, my fiance’s grandparents told him i could no longer live in our house which we rent from them and is behind theirs. they are super old school so the minute anything like this happens, they think the worst. i had nowhere else to go, so i in the blink of an eye was homeless. prior to losing my job, i had been going to the methadone clinic for over a year in order to get off heroin. because i could no longer afford my methadone, i immediately fell back in with my heroin dealer who was like my big brother, so instead of giving me dope for money, he gave me dope for rides to work. so here i was, homeless, back on heroin, and completely uncaring and oblivious to the shit hole i had dug for myself. all of this led to me driving 2.5 hours to my father’s house on october 11th. i came completely clean with my dad, told him about all the horrible things i had been doing over the last few years, and begged him to let me stay with him for a while in order to get my shit together which i thought was very doable since i was no longer in my city around drugs and enablers. instead though, my dad’s solution was to ship me off to a 12 MONTH LONG FAITH BASED “recovery program.” i should add that i do not believe in the christian god at all and think that organized religion is a joke and he knows this about me. to make matters worse, they also did not allow me to have ANY correspondence with my fiance who i have been with for 9 years and has been my ONLY support system during this time. i am talking no phone calls, no visits, and not even letters back and forth. as if all that wasn’t enough to make me want to kill myself, they also didn’t offer any type of medically assisted detox. i was told all that would be available to me was ibuprofen, rest, and water. if you’ve never gone through opiate withdrawal, then you have no freaking clue about the hell that i was about to be in for. i can’t even put what dope sickness feels like into words. it is literally the worst thing i have ever experienced in my life. i wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. there’s a lyric from the highly suspect song “bath salts” that kind of describes it perfectly....”6 AM, there goes the moon, i feel like death is coming soon & oh, all i wanna do is fucking sleep.” which is about damn right because you feel like you are dying and no matter what you do, you can’t sleep. no amount of downers or sleeping pills can calm those restless legs bruh. but anyway...i am getting off track. i knew going into this bullshit that i wasn’t going to make it. not because of me wanting to use again, but because i was going to have jesus literally crammed down my throat and the absence of matthew from my life for a year was just NOT going to happen. adding insult to injury, the day i went into this god forsaken place was october 14th, ONE FUCKING DAY before our 9 year anniversary. the only thing i even wanna say about my time at this place right now was that they are satists because they would only give me ibuprofen, etc. once a day, i was only allowed to “rest” the first 3 days i was there and this rest was either laying across the world’s most uncomfortable chairs or on the freezing ass cold floor of a fucking church sanctuary. anyways, on the weekends we were FORCED to go all over the east coast in small groups to fundraise in order to “earn our keep”...we had to do this for 13 hours a day every friday and saturday. fast forward to my 2nd weekend there and my 2nd day of my 2nd fundraiser. i’m not sure what came over me, but something inside me snapped. i reached my “i cannot take this shit anymore” point. we went inside the walmart we were fundraising at and i stole one of those small personal boxes of wine, went into the bathroom, and shotgunned the fuck out of this thing. once we were back outside at our table, i waited until it was my turn to “man” the table and my leader’s turn to “work the door” and i went into her bookbag & stole the $550 we had raised the day before. i then asked her if i could go get my tennis shoes out of the van and when i did that, i also grabbed my id and social security card out of my wallet. a couple of minutes later, i asked for a bathroom break which we were not allowed to take alone, so as soon as she went inside a stall, i turned around and ran like a crazy person out of that store & across the street to metro pcs to get a cell phone. after that, i went to walgreens where i got a prepaid debit card and ordered a lyft to a hotel where i got a room for the night. once i got settled, i first made plans with my dealer to come home and get up with him. we looked into me taking a lyft home but that would have cost $200 so we decided i would wait til the morning and take a bus. not sure what it was but something kept telling me that it was a horrible idea to do all of that. it kept getting stronger and when my gut talks to me like that, i listen, so i knew i needed a plan b. i don’t know what put this thought in my head, but i decided to call this guy i had worked with a few years ago. i worked at a pest control company as a schedule coordinator and he was one of the technicians i scheduled for. we lived in different states, about 4 hours away from one another, but we talked on the phone constantly obviously. during the time i worked there, we grew incredibly close and even after i stopped working there, we maintained a relationship and anytime he had to come to my city, which is where the corporate office is located, we would get together. in 2016, i even cheated on my fiance with him. this kid was head over heels in love with me, but i never felt the same way, but me being my typical bitchy self, i preyed on that to my advantage. he and i hadn’t spoken since shortly after we hooked up in 2016, but he literally jumped in his car the moment i asked and was on the way to come get me. unfortunately, his car broke down on the interstate like 45 minutes after he left, so i ended up getting a bus ticket to where he lives the next morning. he came and got me at the bus station and all of a sudden, i was in a different state, 4 hours from home, and living with a man who was not my fiance whom at this point i hadn’t even called yet. i was terrified to tell him about what i had done because i was so ashamed. i didn’t want to disappoint him yet again because at this point, that’s all i was doing. fast forward to 2 weeks later and my fiance found out that i had decided i was going to stay where i was and be with this other dude because i had convinced myself i didn’t need him and that i was living my best life, so of course, he stopped talking to me and said he was done. for 5 days, i didn’t try to contact him or even look at my phone, but one night while the new guy was at work, i was laying in bed watching how i met your mother and seeing marshall and lily made me miss my fiance on a physically painful level. so, i finally caved and turned my phone on even though i knew that any communication from him was going to be negative and horribly mean. instead though, i only had one message from him and it was the sweetest msg ever saying he was going to always love me and be waiting for me if i wanted him, but he wasn’t going to interfere with my happiness if this new dude made me happy. i immediately called him and we stayed on the phone for 2 hours during which we made the plan for him to come rescue me. that was on a tuesday and we planned for him to come pick me up the following monday. those were the longest 5 days of my life. when we finally were together again, he picked me up, i wrapped my legs around him, and we kissed. it was at that moment i knew that he is my fucking home. there will never be anyone for me but him. those 37 days without him were the most agonizing days of my life and i swear i will never be away from him again. 

so to bring this to a close, my saturn’s return literally returned me to my home in the literal and figurative sense. i have learned more about myself and about what life is about in the last 4 months than i ever have in my 29 years of life. things are far from perfect right now, but i am somehow at peace because for once, i listened to my heart instead of trying to please everyone else. i can’t explain to you the realizations i have come to in these last few weeks, but i am beyond clear headed and i know without a doubt i did the right thing for my sanity. this saturn’s return shit is real and is no fucking joke.

PS....AS OF 12/12/19, I WILL BE OFF OF OPIATES FOR 2 MONTHS AND THAT IS THE LONGEST CLEAN TIME I HAVE HAD FROM THEM IN 8 FUCKING YEARS SO AYYYYYYE! lol