#the song is eyes shut by years and years- just slightly modified | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lukef · 4 years

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eyes shut

throw your heart to me

let it fall and hit the ground

your timing was so wrong

well, nothing's gonna hurt me with my eyes shut

tw; death

being born in kadeu probably came with a huge stack of terms and conditions. thing was, no one ever read the terms and conditions, and if they did, they most definitely spared the fine print. when luke was born, he was never offered to read terms and conditions ( he wouldn’t have done it, anyways ). kadeu changed to quickly to even have some. if someone told him what was to come, he would probably have considered regressing to the egg cell and sperm he was created from. creator of said egg cell, his mother, halmeoni, currently looked through vegetables portrayed in front of a booth. she wasn’t as weak as most humans in her age, strong on her own legs without support. but she still linked arms with her way taller son after paying for lettuce and tomatoes ( luke complained about them being sold with the vegetables, knowing very well that they were considered fruits ).

“how is dear cassius doing..?” his mother asked, rather focused on listening than walking, something that nearly caused her to trip. his mother loved the fellow diamond, probably as much as her own son. he chuckled about her question, carefully grabbing her arm a bit stronger when she was close to tripping. “cas is doing just fine. i’m planning on taking him to the academy around next week or so, he really wants to see my powers in action. i have to save some mana for that.” “so no quickly heated up meals and tea today..?” the old woman sends a smile in his direction, then turns around and looks at another booth, this one displaying bread. “you should bring him over more often..! he is such a sweet young man. i should make him food more often. tell him that he’s free to come join us eat anytime he wants. i can make some jjigae this weekend..!” she huddles closer to some soup bowls placed on a table next to the bread. “these are so pretty. i should get cassius some.” “mom.” her talking is interrupted by her own son, who has tears in his eyes from trying to suppress his amused laugh regarding her love for his friend. “you gifted him about five soup bowls for yeon nen, i think he’s fine for now.” he gently pats her shoulder, taking over her bag as she pays for the needed bread and stuffs it between tomatoes and lettuce. luke is distracted by a few bystanders arguing over the last bread, so he turns around for a few seconds and tries to talk some sense into them. in that short amount of time, his mother buys two of the bowls in secret. she’s right, they’re gorgeous, with colorful flowers painted all over them. luke doesn’t notice as they disappear in the bag. when the argument is solved, he offers her his arm again and they wander off in the direction of downtown diamond.

“actually, there’s something i have been wanting to tell you about. you remember hyeonju..? i mean, juju..?” halmeoni scoffs loudly, sending him a gaze that comes close to a glare. “how wouldn’t i?” something in her tone is reproachful, but he got used to it after all the years. “when have i last seen him? twenty, thirty years ago..?” luke shakes his head. “around forty, should be it. so, what i have been meaning to tell you, i recently met hyeonju. he is now a successful jeweler and-”

luke does not get the chance to finish what he was about to say. his mother shushes him, shaking her head. “hyeonju can tell me about it himself when you two are close again.” she smiles, leaving a surprised and confused luke behind as she takes a turn right, in the direction of their grandfather’s house. he hurries after her. “uh, mom, i didn’t say anything about us possibly becoming close again.” “oh, dear luke. fenris. you have always been two great minds that think alike and always will be.” with these words, she cuts him off before he has the chance to say anything else. now he’s the one to scoff, helping her up the stairs while thinking about what she just said.

he sleeps over at their house that night, with it becoming to late to travel home and his father convincing him to stay. his grandfather leaves them alone for the evening, something he is slightly disappointed but not mad about. he has more time left with his grandfather than he probably has with his parents.

and as his grandfather comes home the next morning, he’s lucky to have him there. because who else would have been able to control the fire that emitted his chest in the middle of the emotional outburst he experienced in his parents bedroom when he went to check on them that morning. he is now sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around his favorite mug, one with painted owls on it. the coffee in it is strong, too strong for luke. his eyes are too dry, his cheeks top puffy to speak clearly. and while he knew that it had to come someday, that he would live longer than his parents, he never prepared himself for the day he’d find them both, arm in arm, hand in hand, asleep.

forever.

[ mentioned: @kadeuxhyeonju | @croupiex ]

#the song is eyes shut by years and years- just slightly modified #luke's emotional outburst is something likely only cas will have to deal with sooo; he's gonna be fine in a week #* behind the hourglass: solo.#i did not proofread this but uh here yall go #just a little character developement for my man out of fear that the admins will f him up otherwise c:

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chocominnie · 3 years

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One Last Time 01 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 4.3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?

Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.

Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.

‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal. But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.

You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.

‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.

After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.

Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.

As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend.

‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “

“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”

You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.

“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “ You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.

“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”

“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.

She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.

You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet.

“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “

Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”

Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head.

You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”

“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”

“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily.

Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.

Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.

“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.

Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.

Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.

There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.

“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”

“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.

Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.

Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”

“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.

You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.

You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.

“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”

Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.

Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”

“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”

A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.

Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?

“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.

“ I’ll space you two apart.”

Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?

“ Wha-what do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”

“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.

Weird. When did they get so close?

The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.

‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “

Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.

After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.

You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”

She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.

The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.

The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.

All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.

‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.

“ Jeon Jungkook.?

The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.

As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.

‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.

Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?

With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.

The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.

All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.

‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.

‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’ You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.

‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.

A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.

Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’

Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.

You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.

Only for a knock on the door to interrupt their flow of jokes.

‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.

Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘

You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.

Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.

You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’

‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.

The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.

one..two..three..four..five..si-

‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.

Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.

‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.

‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.

‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.” You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.

The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’

She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’

You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.

‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘

She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’

‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.

Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.

‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.

She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’

You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’

Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’

Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.

“You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.

Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient

‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back.

‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.

Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do.

‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.

‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.

‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.

‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?” He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.

You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’

“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.

‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.

‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.

The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan.

Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.

His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.

You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.

Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?

“ Yn.”

Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.

‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.” You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.

You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.

‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”

‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.

‘‘ Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.

You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.

‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”

‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.

He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’

You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’

‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.

‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘

Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.

‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold

This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

inspired by a song from ‘the ballad of songbirds and snakes’ (I highly recommend the book!!)

(lyrics modified slightly to fit the story, and no copyright infringement intended!!)

wc: 2.4k ~ haknyeon x gender neutral!reader ~ nobility!au (ish) ~ triggers: blood, death (nothing graphic) ~ the boyz masterlist

prequels: don’t be silly | shattered

for @thepixelelf :)

[ birds in the heavens ] Lying on a field filled with smoke and ash, you drag in a long breath.

So this is what it’s come to.

You cough, pain shooting through your chest as the metallic tang of blood fills your mouth. Just a few years ago, you never would have imagined this – a battlefield death, so far from home, a fall from grace…

No, not grace. Not you. He was grace. He was everything beautiful in this war-torn world, sunlight on the grass, stars in the sky, flowers in the meadow beyond the village, blue and red and pink and white woven in a wreath that you placed on his head with trembling fingers and a smile only he could put on your face.

Where was grace but in the curve of his lips and the scrunch of his eyes as he laughed? Where was grace but in the rough brush of his fingers to your smooth skin, worlds apart united for brief, beautiful moments in the touch of your hands together? There was a time when you thought you were grace, fine clothes and elegant dances and lilted words, but he was grace, truly, sunbeams personified, tanned hands rough from work deftly twisting grass together into a makeshift ring that fit perfectly on your fourth finger, a crude proposal in the eyes of anyone in your circle but so beautiful in your eyes, accompanied by a voice of sugar and honey, birdsong whispering between the blades of shifting grass, promises of a future where the warmth of his touch would never leave your skin.

What was the song he sang? Something about valleys and trains, roses and violets and red and blue…

A memory of his voice washes through your mind, a taste of honey sweet against the bitter ash coating your tongue.

Down in the valley, valley so low,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

The train, love, hear the train blow,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

He used to say that he’d wait to hear the train whistle during the months he knew you’d be there. He said it took everything in him not to run to the station and blow both of your covers, he wanted to see you so much.

What wouldn’t you give to see him now?

Go build me a mansion, build it so high,

So I can see my true love go by.

See him go by, love, see him go by,

So I can see my true love go by.

A smile stains your trembling lips. Where the first verse was his, this one was yours. Only you could speak of mansions and true love and not be entirely joking – you used to promise him you’d build yourselves a house someday, a house where you could live together in secret peace, away from the prying eyes of your family and their spies.

Go write me a letter, send it by mail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

Capital jail, love, to the capital jail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

A sob racks your body, ash settling in your throat and mixing with the blood bubbling on your tongue. How were you two to know that the third verse he sang so teasingly, eyes squinting with laughter as he swore to you with honey-sweet seriousness that he’d love you to the end, would become truth? That he’d be imprisoned in that very jail and later killed, with you sent to the battlefield to die? You couldn’t even send letters, like in the song.

There’s a fourth verse to the song, a verse you’d sing together, but the sun burns overhead and seals your lips shut. Its rays sear into your eyes, scorching your heart with the guilt, the knowledge that you have no right to sing or even remember the verse, and it hurts, but you can’t look away. Won’t look away. It’s the sun, what he was, pure warmth and light made whole into one human being whom you were lucky enough to love – how could you let that go?

How could you let him go?

Tears spring into your eyes. They fall slowly, cutting tracks through the grime on your face. One hand struggles to rise, to wipe them away, but you can’t. You can’t. The tears… they’re him. What you have left of him. Tears, tears only, and the dried grass tied around your finger…

Your face burns under the sun. It’s bright, so bright, just like him.

You were so bright, love. The hand that tried to wipe the tears now aches to reach up to the sky, fingers enclosing around a ray of light in a futile effort to bring it to your lips, to kiss him one last time before the darkness blurring your vision takes you completely. Bright as the sun. I could never close my eyes to you.

Even if it burned.

An image appears in the sun, his face contorted in pain and agony as they dragged him to the center of the square. Two guards held you back as you screamed. Four more stood in front of him, guns raised.

The sun blazed that day, just like his eyes as they stared into yours with all the conviction of a man who knew he had done nothing wrong, the bravery of a boy who had been taught to love and only love.

Even when the one he loved could do nothing to save him.

The same sun flares overhead, witness to your love, witness to his death, and now, soon, a witness to yours. It shines unflinchingly, fierce, unforgiving – you couldn’t save him. You couldn’t.

I couldn’t. A sob rips through your bleeding body. Pain tears into every wound in your skin, but it can’t compare to the ache in your chest, the knowledge of a death you couldn’t prevent. I’m sorry. I couldn’t.

I failed.

The sun feels colder now, warm rays chilled under your confession of failure. It hurts to stare, to keep your eyes open even as cold fire sears anger into your wounds, but it’s penance. Punishment. Just like when they stripped your title and shoved you into war, a nameless foot soldier to be buried under a heap of other nameless bodies, retribution for loving a boy they believed to be beneath your station.

Beneath my station. If you could, you’d snort. If only they could see that the farmer boy they scorned to death was so much more than all of them. Than all of you.

Sunlight personified, sparkling in a blue sky without a cloud.

You blink. There are clouds now, of gray smoke from firing guns stained red from the screaming bodies falling all around you. But the sun cuts through it all to shine on you, cold, unforgiving in the knowledge that you failed to protect the boy who loved you to the end, even as bullets ripped into his body the way they now have ripped into yours.

I failed.

I’m sorry.

I failed.

Blood trickles down your face. Your eyes remain open, focused on the sun. They burn, but it’s nothing compared to the punishment you deserve for not keeping him alive the way you promised yourself you would.

I couldn’t. Another sob wracks your bloodied chest. Everything hurts. I couldn’t.

But then –

A face you never thought you’d see again leans over your ruined body, bright, visible, even as darkness further coats your eyes.

The sunlight grows a little warmer.

Haknyeon?

You couldn’t, love. A hand reaches out, caresses your bloody cheek with a softness of touch that almost makes you close your eyes. You couldn’t. And that’s okay.

Tears fill your eyes afresh. No, it isn’t, you try to argue with the vision that can’t be real but that feels so real, so frighteningly warm in this one moment. I couldn’t save you. You should’ve lived.

You couldn’t, Haknyeon repeats, eyes sparkling. He looks so healthy, so whole – no bullets in his chest, no blood running down his face. Your heart aches. It’s okay. Please believe me, love. It’s okay.

The softness in his voice makes you want to believe it, makes you want to fall into his honeyed words that flow, smooth, through your ears, soothing the pain throbbing all over your body. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, you try to argue through cracked and bloody lips that cannot speak. Don’t give it to me. I don’t deserve it.

His touch feels so real against your skin. It’s a good thing I’m not here to forgive you, then, he laughs, for there was never anything to forgive.

Blood bursts from your lips as ash tickles your nose and you cough again, this time curling into his phantom touch. Then why are you here, if not to condemn me?

A question remains in the air, unsung, unsaid, but heavy as the clouds of smoke settling on the field.

Surely you can’t still love me?

He shines, warm, light, brighter than the sun overhead. You hear the answer to your question in his next words even if he doesn’t say it and it hurts, hurts so much – you don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve any of the love he still holds for you –

Close your eyes, love, Haknyeon whispers. Close your eyes. I’ll take the pain away.

Panic rises in your chest. You can’t. You can’t close your eyes, can’t lose sight of him or the burning sun, penance for your crime, the last sight of your lover that you will take as your soul slips away – you can’t let this gift go, this last vision – it’s all you have left of him besides the tears and the grass ring wrapped around your finger –

Close your eyes, love. His smile trembles, but his palm remains steady against your cheek. Close your eyes, and I promise you will still see me.

You blink unsteadily against the black spots dotting his face and the sunlight. Truly?

Truly.

The sun dances between the spots in your vision. To close your eyes and lose sight of the sky and of him, or to keep them open and take the image of him, smiling to your grave?

But it hurts so much to keep them open. Burns. And he said he’d still be there even if you closed your eyes against the burn, against the sun…

Maybe you will still feel his warmth, even if you give in to the darkness.

Slowly, slowly, your eyes flutter shut. Black washes across your vision and you almost panic – you can’t see him, he said you’d see him but you can’t and now you don’t have the energy to open your eyes once more – but then warmth settles on your forehead and, oh –

It’s him. His lips, kissing your grimy, bloody skin. And you can still see him, see his smile as he comes closer to cup your cheek with his hand once more, his palm warmer than the sun ever was.

It’s okay, Haknyeon whispers, words ghosting across your skin. I’ll take the pain away. Remember our song?

It hurts so much to breathe a few words from your lips, but for him, you manage. Yes, I do.

Sing with me.

And somehow, you know that if he were granted a last request at the end of his life, it would have been this. For you to sing with him one more time.

Who are you to deny him the last wish he never had?

Your lips begin to move, ever so slightly.

Down in the valley, valley so low,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

The train, love, hear the train blow,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

His song buoys you on, lifting words from your throat even as the pain begins to blur, to fade, taking your voice with it.

Go build me a mansion, build it so high,

So I can see my true love go by.

See him go by, love, see him go by,

So I can see my true love go by.

You falter at the next verse, unshed tears choking your words, but he continues, fingers still stroking your cheek as his song filters through your ears, soft, sweet.

Go write me a letter, send it by mail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

Capital jail, love, to the capital jail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

Bitter grief wells in your throat, mixing with the blood. If you couldn’t sing the last verse, there’s no way you can do the fourth. You can’t. You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to sing the verse that you always sang together, soft under the sun in a meadow of flowers, holding each other close as you whispered the words into each other’s ears. You don’t deserve to say those words to him, I love you, because even when he loved you to the end, your love wasn’t enough to keep him alive.

Come, love. A hand takes yours, toys with the dried grass tied around your finger. Sing with me. Please.

I don’t deserve it.

Yes, you do. He kisses your forehead again, soft as a flower petal against your skin. You still love me, and I still love you. Nothing has changed.

But –

Nothing has changed, he murmurs. Nothing has changed.

Tears no longer spill from your eyes, but if you had the energy, you’d let them fall. Okay, you whisper. Okay.

Thank you.

You struggle to move your lips as the pain fades, disappearing into the touch of his skin against yours. But his voice stays strong, warm, golden as the sunlight still washing over your skin.

Roses are red, love, he sings. Violets are blue. Birds in the heavens know I love you.

A last trembling smile spreads small across your face, lyrics lingering on your lips.

Know I love you, oh, know I love you…

His arms wrap warm around your shoulders, warmer than sunlight, and the last words whisper soft into your ear as the world finally slips away.

Birds in the heavens know I love you.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 well wish for the couple they deserve it)

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kakashiswilloffire · 3 years

Note

hiiiii. congratulations on 200 followers! you deserve so many more and i can’t wait to see your blog grow & grow & grow.

If it’s still available, i’d love to see perfect for you with kakashi.

thank you so much & congratulations again! 💕

thank you so much!! this was so much fun to write and i hope you love it!!

perfect for you

ao3 & song

words: 1.2k

warnings: marijuana use

It was not often you could convince Kakashi to get high. Though he would never confirm it, you were at least a hundred and ten percent certain that he was in ANBU, and ninety-eight percent sure he was the operative called Hound. If he wasn't, you'd have one more missed opportunity to blame on Hiruzen. Because of how often he needed to be on call and mission-ready, he rarely consumed sake, let alone recreational drugs. But there comes a point in every shinobi's career that sparked mixed opinions: mandatory paid time off.

You were firmly pro time off, especially for your workaholic boyfriend who took every mission he was physically qualified and available to take. He was always gone on one A rank or another, and several that you suspected were actually S rank. In fairness, you were also frequently out of the village on your own missions. But you had saved your time off until Kakashi had been forced to take his, and you now had a full week together at an onsen outside of the Leaf, and had made it clear you were not to be contacted.

You both laid on a mound of pillows, your head on his chest as you basked in the after-dinner glow. The miso soup followed by a selection of sushi was exactly what you needed. The luxury and comfort of your solitude and privacy together, in a room with no windows on an upper floor, meant that Kakashi was able to eat in front of you without rushing to replace his mask. A few kisses had kept him out of it. Then there was the small pipe you had packed and lit and were passing off to him.

You reminded him quickly how to pull, making sure he covered the small hole with his thumb, and had him take a couple of shallow, experimental breaths. He got his short coughing fit out of the way, then began smoking with you in earnest.

It didn't take long for him to feel the effects, melting into the blanket beneath him and cracking a lazy grin. You made sure to limit yourself, prepared to babysit him if necessary, relishing his fall into relaxation.

He started with scrunching his fist over and over, the grin growing as he felt the spark and glow spread across his body. He rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows and reached out to you, ghosting his fingers across your jaw, thumb hovering over your lips. You popped your mouth open just enough to lick the tip of it, causing him to jerk back and giggle. God, if his giggle was the last sound you heard, you’d die happy.

You both continued like this for a few minutes, letting him explore his modified senses as he settled in to the high.

“Konoha’s shinobi structure is shit.”

You paused, confused what prompted Kakashi to offer that recognition so suddenly.

“Hiruzen is borderline incompetent sometimes. And, the pollution in the Nara river is at an all time high, and I’m not sure what Danzo is doing with the Foundation, he approached me about it last year and I shut him down, remember? The newest batch of academy students have all the major clan heads and right now they’re not showing any promise. Also, there’s so much litter? Like all over the village?”

You chuckled hesitantly, not sure why he had chosen now to start analyzing flaws in the Hidden Leaf. “Kakashi, that’s true, and I hear you, but—”

He rolled over again, sitting up and grabbing you by one shoulder. “I’m trying to tell you I love you.”

What?

It had been almost eight months since you had gotten together, and you had both made it clear that there was no pressure to say “love”. Sure, there had been some hope that the romantic atmosphere of this trip away might lead to the right moment for you both to confess some feelings, but like this?

Before you could say anything else, your boyfriend continued his tirade.

“We’re still dealing with the fallout of the Third Great Ninja War, and there’s always rumors of the Fourth. Then the kyuubi attack, and Minato-sensei, Kushina-sensei, all the civilians lost— and the fucking environment! Did you know this summer was the hottest on record Konoha’s ever had?”

You took the hand Kakashi was gesturing with and held it between both of yours, lowering your head slightly to give him a firm look. “This is one fucked up seduction, ‘Kashi.”

He shook his head, twisting his hand around to hold yours.

“I’m just one person and it doesn’t matter how many missions I take, I can’t save the world by myself. The more I travel, the more issues I see, and there’s already so many problems at home. The whole planet is kind of fucked. But, I know that there’s still hope, because this disaster of an existence managed to give me you.”

He hooked a hand around your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek as he continued and his warm palm holding lightly to your jaw.

“Babe, I could be perfect for you. I mean, I know I come off as lazy and don’t have many friends, not the way Asuma does, but Gai tries, and you try, God, you try so hard to bring me out of my head—” He paused, a cough catching him off guard. “And I’m a bit of a stoner,” he grinned, gesturing at the pipe you had brought along, and you giggled together, rolling your eyes at him.

Kakashi took a breath, focusing in on you with deadly seriousness. “Despite all my faults, I’ll make myself perfect for you, if nothing else. I mean, you’ve done more for me than I could ever dream of asking anyone. You eat my tempura and you order extra miso for me, just to start.”

You shook your head, letting a warm laugh spill from your lips. “You’re something else, Kakashi. I’m just a shinobi, just like you. Not nearly as brave as you are.”

He squeezed your hand in his, bringing you into his reality. “Fuck that. You’re incredible. You’re so creative in how you strategize, and you’re so kind and smart and strong. My dad would love you.” You took the compliments, swallowing down the urge to downplay yourself.

“I can’t fix what’s fucked up. But I know that you’re not, and that we’re not. Everything else in the world can turn to shit tomorrow, but I know that we’d still be here, we’d still be okay. I love you, babe.” He leaned forward, wrapping you in a firm embrace, though still a bit clumsy. You kissed him, trying to pack as much love in between you as you could in the short span.

“I can be perfect for you, too, Kakashi,” you finally whispered when you pulled back, pressing your forehead to his.

He grinned, running his hand through your hair and down your spine, settling around your waist. “Let’s be perfect together, okay?”

#ari gets 200 #fic requests #anonymous will of fire #kakashi oneshot #kakashi x gn!reader #kakashi x reader #naruto songfic

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 4 years

Text

Blessed

For the Anon who requested : can you do a james potter x reader one where they were exes and the reader’s job was a performer, she has a gig on this bar where she didn’t know james was a bartender. i have like this idea where she sings “blessed” by daniel caesar, which was like (let’s pretend HAHA) the first song she wrote that was dedicated to james.

James Potter x Reader

You walked ahead of your band, who was still unpacking the beat up old van out back th pub. You let yourself behind the bar, approaching the tender from behind, tapping him on the shoulder.

“‘Scuse me,” He turned and your hand remained frozen in the air. Your jaw dropped open and you took a step back automatically, eyes wide.

“Y/N?”

“James?” He looked around wildly for a moment before his eyes came back to you, mirroring yours in size. “You can’t be back here, what are you doing here?” You couldn’t find words for a moment and your feet remained glued to the spot.

“I’m-” You gestured lamley, “My band is playing here tonight,” You admitted, and he nodded his head, offering you a kind smile. You managed to smile softly in return. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated Hogwarts, a few weeks after your breakup.

“That’s good, good for you,” Someone waved him over, and he patted your arm politely as he passed you, “I need to get back to work,”

“Wait!” He paused, looking at you and for a moment you felt 16 again, “Where do we set up?” His face morphed and he smiled slightly, pointing to a corner of the pub, with that he turned back and went to go help the gentleman waving him down.

You played a few songs, some slower, some more upbeat, singing your heart out. A few times while looking over the crowd, your eyes strayed to the bar and you were met with James’s gaze, one of you would quickly look away.

“Let’s do Blessed next,” You guitarist whispered to you and you shook your head wildly.

“No.”

“Come on it’s our best one,”

“I can’t,” You whispered but they began to play anyway. James’s head perked up at the first notes, immediately knowing exactly what you were playing. He was shocked, what did this mean? He could remember the first time you had played it for him.

“Everywhere that I go, everywhere that I be

If you are not surrounding me with your energy

I don't wanna be there, don't wanna be anywhere

Any place that I can't feel you, I just wanna be near you.”

You sang, looking anywhere but the man whose song it was. James couldn't keep his eyes off you, he was in awe. You continued to sing, leaning against your stool as you became slightly emotional.

“And yes, I'm a mess but I'm blessed

To be stuck with you

Sometimes it gets unhealthy

We can't be by ourselves, we

We'll always need each other, and

Yes, I'm a mess but I'm blessed

To be stuck with you,”

James couldn’t help but smile sadly at the words and how right they were. If he had a sickle for every time he almost owled you over the last year, he would be rich.

“And I'm coming back home to you

And I'm coming back home to you

I'm coming back home”

You made eye contact with James as you sung, and this time neither of you could look away. You held his gaze until the song finished before looking away and blinking a few times. You grabbed the microphone and announced a five minute break, your band mates all looked around worried as you ran off the stage and towards the loo. You went inside and locked the door, titing your head up and blinking hard to try and keep tears from ruining your makeup. A moment later there was a knock on the door.

“Be out in a mo,” You called weekly, but they knocked again.

“Y/N, please, let me in,” James called through the door and you froze up again. Another knock got you moving, you went to the door and opened it, allowing the man to step inside. He looked at you for a moment, and you stared back- then he was moving. Two big steps and he was in front of you. He grabbed your cheeks in both his hands and pulled you close to him, tilting your head up.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,”

“James Potter, shut up and kiss me.” With that, he barked out a laugh and crashed his mouth against yours. The kiss was raw and full of emotions, your teeth clashing together.

“I will always need you,” He whispered the modified lyric at you, and you pulled him in for another kiss, holding him close.

“I’ve missed you.”

#Harry Potter #James Potter #James Potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #the marauders #marauders #marauders x reader

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koos-euphoria · 4 years

Text

ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ | ʙᴛs | ᴏ ɴ ᴇ

bts/reader | smut:fluff/angst | 18+ | sm/werewolf!au

ᴡordcount: 2.7K

warnings: none, a bit angsty

— summary: Your bestfriend Jungkook has to move away for a year. You don’t hear from him and when he comes back he doesn’t come alone. There’s something different about them, what’s wrong with them?

ᴘᴅʟ ᴍ.ʟɪsᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

If you could you would spend every day, hour, minute and second in this moment. In Jungkook’s room, together, laying on his bed, feeling as if you were floating on clouds, from how soft his blanket is. A soft love song playing in the background from Jungkook’s phone, as you both lie on your sides facing one another. Eyes tracing over each other’s features. As if both of you are trying to memorise every little perfection and every little imperfection. Your eyes fluttering shut as Jungkook begins to run his fingers through hair soothingly, finger nails lightly scratching your scalp, massaging you. Closing your eyes as Jungkook begins to hum along with the background melody, making the moment even more beautifully perfect. The feeling you get is as though your body is slowly floating away from reality, and away into dream land. Oh, you would give everything up within a single second for this moment to never end. You are hopelessly and deeply in love with your best friend, and he has no idea. Never, will you be actually able to tell him that. This is more than enough for you, being like this with him is better than losing him altogether.

You jump suddenly, the sound of Jungkook’s mother shouting on him to come down because they are about to leave, brings you out your little day dream. You screw your eyes forcefully. Begging and pleading anything inside your head that can hear you, make it so he doesn’t have to leave. But you are hut with the reality. You can not stay in the moment forever. Please don’t leave, you want to say, beg, or even scream it at Jungkook , but, of course, you keep your mouth glued shut. You feel the area right beside you on the bed dip as Jungkook shuffles closer to you, his chest hard against your own. His comforting smell that reminds you of home fills your nostrils, and it becomes harder for you to breath, feeling a small lump form in your throat, as your emotions gets to you, “Y/n” Jungkook whispers, his warm, minty breath kisses your lips, making them part slightly, he is definitely a lot closer than what you thought. You can hear your heart beat in your ears as the organ pounds in your chest, hard. You find yourself worrying for a split second that it will burst through your skin and bones. You very slowly peel your eyes open, finding his face is less than an inch away, if you moved the tiniest bit, your lips would touch. The thought has your spine tingling. You look up into his dark brown eyes and find sparkles dancing together inside them, they were almost glowing and he looks ethereal. “I need to go” he continues to whisper, it is almost as if he believes that it will keep the mood peaceful and light. Your lower lip juts out on its own accord, not realising that you are pouting until Jungkook runs the pad of his thumb along it with a feathery light touch. “No pouting, babygirl” was all he says, but, it just makes you pout even more. “How long are you going away for, Kookie?” You ask, as you softly place a hand on his cheek, your thumb running along the bone sweetly. Jungkook’s lips turn into a sad smile, the sparkle in his eyes dims as he breaks eye contact, visibly not liking his own answer. Sighing, he looks back to you, softly wincing as he says “a year.”

It was as if your whole world came crashing down with those two simple words. Heart aching, you swallow, the lump in your throat becoming bigger as your throat dries up. “A year?” You repeat so quietly Jungkook almost missed it. Your voice is unstable, as your eyes begins to water, blurring your vision. “Please don’t cry” Jungkook says, hands practically flying to your face as he catches the first tear, then second, his own voice cracking from trying to hold his tears back. He wraps his arms around you, holding you, as you soak his shirt with your salty tears. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Kook” you hiccup, pulling back to look at him again. Watching as he nods in agreement, his own tears falling down his own face. “I’m gonna miss you guys too.”

The sound of Jungkook’s mother shouting again fills the quiet house makes you jump. Making Jungkook tighten his grip, pouting himself because he doesn’t really want to let go. Sighing sadly to himself Jungkook, he hesitatingly lets you of you, standing, pausing the now sad music that is playing from his phone on his bedside drawer before tucking the device in his back pocket. You stare at the wall as Jungkook walks around to the side you are laying on, never taking his eyes off you. Stretching his arms out towards you as he holds his hands out, palm up, as he makes grabby gesture, signalling you to take them. “C’mon baby girl” he encourages you, sighing loudly, you hated this, you didn’t want to leave. It was like a real life nightmare. But still, you sit up and gently slide your small hands into his much bigger ones. Letting him help pull you up to stand in front of him. His hands automatically drop from your hands and wrap around your waist, gently pulling you into him. He buries his head into your hair as you cling onto the material of his shirt, hugging you properly. “Do you have to go? Can’t you just stay with me?” You mumble. Jungkook shakes his head softly with a slight frown, kissing the crown of your head before pulling away, “sorry” he says, taking your hand in his. He begins to lead you out his bedroom slowly, leaving the door open behind you both.

Walking down the stairs is almost painful. Both of you were going down, step by step, in complete silence, time felt as if it has slowed down. The only sound that could be heard was the floor boards creaking. The dreamy atmosphere that you were in earlier is now long gone and you desperately want it back.

You feel your chest tighten with anxiety as you reach the bottom step, jungkook kisses your temple quickly as he squeezes your before disappearing to find both of your shoes and coats. Something catches your eye, and with a heavy heart you move towards it finding yourself looking at the Jeon’s family photos. Smiling to yourself as you see how happy they all are. Your eyes stop on the last one, your heart suddenly swelling as It there is one of you and Jungkook as kids playing with toys in their front garden. His arms around your shoulders as you show off the cool doll in your hand excitedly, the memory floods your brain as you remember the whole day perfectly. “You cried right after that was taken” Jungkook says, now standing behind you, rocking back and forth, with one hand in his pocket as the other hold you belongings. You raise your eyebrows at him, as he take your things from him, putting them on, “Hey! That’s because someone decided to steal my toy!” You exclaim, poking his chest with you finger after you finish putting your shoes on. Jungkook throws his head back, hand pressed against his chest, eyes and nose crinkling as he laughs. “Yeah but I did give you a big kiss to say sorry though” he says still smiling, and you hum agreeing. You both look at each other, as a strand of hair falls in front of your face gently, blocking your view. Jungkook was quick to react as he moves forward to push and tuck it behind your ear. He cups your face in his hand “I’m gonna call and FaceTime you, every night” Jungkook claims and you lick your lips, stealing his eyes attention. You both begin to lean in, eyes fluttering at you feel his soft lips brush against your own, when suddenly his mother barges in the front door. Making you both jump away from one another, you look down at you shoes as you feel your cheeks heat up. “Would you hurry up, we have to be there in an hour, and that’s how long it takes to get there!” His mother scolds making Jungkook sigh and look back at you scrunching his nose. You giggle at his cuteness as you hold your hand out, and he takes it, walking together hand in hand outside and to the car.

As Jungkook pulls the car door handle open he turns to face you, taking your whole from in. Quickly memorising everything. “well, I’ll see you soon, baby girl, I’ll call you tonight okay?” He says, as he reaches out, stroking your hair. You don’t verbally reply worried you’ll start crying again so you just nod your head leaning into his touch, before practically jumping in his arms for the last time until next year, squeezing the life out of him. “See you soon, Kookie” you squeak as you burry your face in his neck, eyes squeezed shut. Jungkook’s mother beeps the car horn annoyingly, telling Jungkook wordlessly to get in the car. You both groan loudly, nervier if you actually wanting him to leave, but nevertheless Jungkook kisses your forehead lightly before sitting in the back seat, closing the door behind him with a thud. He rolls the window down, grinning at you with his cute bunny teeth, as you blow him kisses while moving away from the car slightly. Jungkook pretends to catch them and quickly stuff them in his pockets as if he’s afraid they will float away. You stay put as you hear his mother slowly drives the car out the driveway, and away and out of your sight. This is going to be one long year, you think to yourself as you walk across the grass to your very own house directly in front of Jungkook’s.

~ A Year Later ~

He never called. Ever. It was like he never existed in your life suddenly disappearing. It was not like him to lie, he always told you the truth, no matter what. So your brain did what it does best and overthink everything, managing to convince you that maybe he just never really liked you. You cried every night for almost a solid six months, you were hurting, you are still hurting, and it hurt he how he was not there like he usually was. You tried to contact him. God you tried. You phoned him about a million times, it always went straight through to voicemail. You texted even more than that, but all he did was read them and never reply back. So about eight months ago, you messaged him one word, and one word only. ‘Bye’. It was a small simple word to most people, used very often, a way for them to end a conversation or a visit, but you and Jungkook swore to never use it. Feeling it meant you were never going to see each other again. We used ‘see you soon’ or ‘later’. so you knew he would know exactly what you mean. You did not want to do it, but you were tired, tired of being hurt.

‘Ping!’ Your phone chimes disrupting your thoughts. Your eyebrows furrow as you see it’s from an unknown number. “Look outside.” was all it said. Confusion fills your systems as you stare at the message, was it maybe sent to the wrong number? It must of been, there’s no way someone would text you that. Still, you find yourself obeying the text by walking to your open window, peeping out slightly. The streets are practically empty as you search outside the font of your house, there was not even a bird flying in the sky. It was eerily quiet. You look back down at the phone, slightly disappointed that this stranger obviously never meant to text you. Chucking your phone on your bed you go back to cleaning your room, binning this you no longer need or want along the way. The sound of music blasting suddenly comes from outside your window, disturbing the peace. You match up to your window ready to give whoever it was a peace of your mind. But your mind goes bank as you see a familiar face leaning on a truck with his arms crossed. It was like everything around you disappeared and it was just him. He looks different, good different. Muscular, he obviously spent a lot of time in the gym. You notice his is skin glowing as his hair blowfly slightly in the wind, even that was different, longer, with a green dyed on the ends. You feel frozen to the spot, not being to take your eyes off him, has it really been a whole year? In that moment Jungkook’s eyes flick over to you casually, seeing an eyebrow raise smugly. You were quick to stupidly duck under the window. Cheeks turning red as you lean on the wall hugging you’re knees to your chest. ‘Ping!’ Your phone goes off again. You rush to grab it and see it’s a text from the same unknown number. You feel your mouth go dry as you read the message over and over. Heat rushing between you thighs. “Good girl.” Was all it said, but you know it was now Jungkook. You move to crawl back to sit on your knees under the window holding your breath as you slightly peek out again, making sure he can’t see you this time. He was still in the same position, but this time you notice six other equally attractive men with him. Joking around and play fighting on the grass. One of them was talking to Jungkook as he nods and both turn to look at your window again, making you once again duck. Shaking you’re head at how stupid you’re being you go back to cleaning, trying you’re hardest not to think about him or any of his friends.

Sitting at the dinner table eating with your parents, in complete, but comfortable silence. Only noises sounding in the room is heavy breathing from you all stuffing your mouths full. The door bell goes off as you go to take another bite of your pasta, praying in your head that your mother or father will answer it. But your eyes flick up to look back and forth and find that they are waiting on your to get it. Groaning to yourself, you push the chair back wincing at the sound of the legs scraping against the floor. You march to the door, with a death glare plastered on your face, obviously not happy about whoever it is disrupting your eating. You grab the door handle and pull it down, swing it back with force “what” you spit not even looking at the person standing there, to busy send glares at the walls. “Is that any way to talk to your best friend?” A familiar low voice says. Your eyes instantly snap to the owner, and your face reddens “J-Jungkook?” You squeak, before coughing and fixing yourself. Do not show weakness. “What do you want” you say with a tone, Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up and the sudden change. “I wanted to see you, I’m back” he states. You scoff at him “seriously? You ignore me for a whole year! A whole fucking year! And think you can just come to my door and expect me to be okay with that?” You almost want to scream at him! “I’m sorry-“ he begins, but you cut him off holding up your hand to his face, “cut the bullshit, I don’t want to hear it” you deadpan, “Have a good night” you say before shutting the door in his face, before he says anything else. You rest your back against the door in disbelief, he looks even hotter close up, wait no, cut that out, you shake the thoughts out your head, he can not get back into your life so easily, you have to be strong. Sighing to yourself you go back to your food.

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rene-writes-or-tries-to-write · 4 years

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How to Break John Winchester’s Nose: A fangirl’s guide

This was on my main, but I’m moving it here.

- 7:36 PM, May 14, 2020, Pocatello, Idaho -

The road was empty. Nothing moved. Not even a breeze stirred the trees. As she watched, a speck rounded the corner. She narrowed her eyes. That was her mark. Time to go.

The girl was tired, angry, and cold. She had been walking for hours, headed north toward Chubbuck. She had no true destination, just the need to get away. “Go for a walk,” they said. She’d been on more walks in the past couple of months than she had for the past year. She was bored of walks, and just wanted to go home. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have a home, not really. She was so lost in thought that she did not notice the wind pick up. Dead leaves, grass, and dandelion fluff whipped around her. It was only when a stick hit her arm that she looked up to see the vortex forming around her.

“What the fu-” her words were cut off by a high pitched noise. A second later she was gone, and there was no trace that she had ever been there.

- 9:52 PM, June 3, 1996, Pocatello, Idaho –

John Winchester was headed out of town, eager to return to Sioux Falls to retrieve his boys. The day had been a long one, and he hadn’t had much incentive to sticking around town. The dark of the night settled around his truck, and he relaxed slightly in the driver’s seat. Plenty of open road awaited him, and the drive would take a couple of days, allowing him a couple of stops at bars, and the possibility of some company for a night. He put on some music and allowed his mind to wander.

A half hour or so later, the ferocity of the wind brought him back. The wind was going crazy, seemingly forming a vortex. Immediately, all traces of relaxation disappeared from John Winchester. He slammed the brakes to avoid the funnel, grabbed his gun, and reached for the door.

The wind stopped. Leaves and sticks fell to the ground. In the center of it all stood a girl, looking to be somewhere around the age of fifteen. She was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and a t-shirt and scarf. She spun on her heel, absorbing her surroundings. She stopped when her eyes landed on the truck. John took this as his cue to exit said truck, gun hidden beneath his jacket.

“Hey there,” he said, not wanting to startle her.

“Hel-” she froze, getting her first good look at him. She sucked a breath in. John hesitated, weighing his next move. Before he came to a decision, a fist connected with his nose. He reeled back, cursing, and pressed a hand to his bleeding nose. Barely giving him a second to process the fact that the punch had been thrown with good technique and with a surprising amount of power, she followed it up with a sidekick. John dodged out of the way and fumbled for his gun. He had barely managed to pull it free when the side of the girl’s foot connected with it, sending the gun flying toward the side of the road. Her foot finished its arc, landing behind her in a fighting stance, only to spring off immediately to round kick him in the head. He blocked it and returned fire with a right hook, which she blocked. He followed the right hook with an uppercut, which she didn’t block. A rush of air left her. John didn’t give her time to recover, using the precious few seconds he had to grab the silver knife from his jacket and slash at her face. She responded quickly, but not quick enough, allowing the knife to slash across her arm. She grimaced at the cut, but didn’t display a worse reaction, which threw John for a loop. Given her mysterious appearance in the middle of the road, the way she had seemed to recognize him, and the immediate, well-coordinated attack, he had expected her to be, well, not human. Still, silver didn’t rule everything out.

The girl, meanwhile, had retreated to John’s truck and was clutching her injured arm, hissing. She looked up at John warily, evidently expecting an attack. His next actions surprised both him and her. He strode over and held out his hand.

“The name’s John Winchester. Can I get the name of the chick that just broke my nose?”

The girl hesitated. She didn’t particularly trust John, but the mere fact that he existed… what harm could telling him her name do anyway?

“Clara. I’d apologize for the broken nose but it’d be a lie.”

“OK, Clara, you wanna let me take a look at that arm?”

“You’re the one who cut it, why should I let you anywhere near it?”

“I’ve got a med kit?”

“….Fine.”

John went around the truck to grab the med kit from the trunk, and also to avoid having the kid see the weapons in the back. A few minutes saw the kid’s arm cleaned and bandaged.

“Well, I can’t leave you out here. Get in, I’ll take you home.”

She snorted. “Home? Yeah, good luck with that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Best to just show you,” she said, climbing into the truck, leaving John to get to the driver’s seat.

“Where to?”

“Hmmm? Oh, right,” she paused. “Pocatello, Idaho.”

John simply nodded and drove, leaving the questioning for later.

- 11:38 PM, June 3, 1996, Pocatello, Idaho –

Clara had spent the last hour or so having her entire world turned on its head. She had been kidnapped by a cyclone (of all the clichés!), found by John Winchester, cut by John Winchester, treated by John Winchester, and driven by John Winchester. She’d broken his (John Winchester’s!) nose. She couldn’t stop running his name through her head on repeat, a fair reaction given that an hour ago the man had been a fictional character. She had no regrets about her initial reaction, as she felt wholeheartedly that the man deserved a broken nose, hell, she thought he deserved worse. He was a shitty father, not that great of a husband, and a terrible person in general. She did have some lingering doubts about letting him drive her anywhere. In the end, she figured, she could explain some of the truth, seeing as she likely didn’t legally exist in this universe yet.

She played with the ends of her scarf, nervous about his reaction. A sudden thought hit her, and she immediately zipped up her jacket to hide the Supernatural t-shirt she had on underneath, and tried to subtly rearrange her scarf to hide the slightly modified anti-possession symbols on the ends and the large, all caps “WINCHESTER BROTHERS” on it. John took notice and cranked the heat up.

“Cold?”

“Not anymore. Could we get some tunes?”

John reached behind them and grabbed a cassette tape at random, sliding it in. Zep’s Immigrant Song hit them at full volume, and Clara smirked, thinking of Thor: Ragnorak. The smirk disappeared a second later, when she realized that the MCU had yet to be introduced, much less developed to the point of Ragnorak. She felt slightly faint.

“You okay there?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Perfectly fine. A bit thirsty.”

John took the opportunity to hand her the holy water, a move she had anticipated. She took a sip.

“Tastes a bit odd. Is it from some well in the middle of nowhere?” She drank some more.

John had been watching her reaction closely, and was a tad bit startled.

“N-No, just a motel.”

He handed her a generously salted sandwich.

“Here, you must be hungry.”

She took a large bite of it, then paused.

“Thoo much thalt,” she stated, mouth full. Swallowing the mouthful, she continued, “not enough meat.”

“You’re human,” John blurted, surprised.

“Well yeah, what’d you expect, three rats in a trench?”

John forced a laugh.

“You never know. So, mind telling me why you broke my nose before you even finished sayin’ hello?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I find myself on a lonely stretch of road in the dark, alone but for a large black truck and a big guy, who judging by his stance, is ex-military, Marine if I had to guess, who is tense, likely trigger happy, and armed, going off of the glint of metal from his belt and the lump in his jacket, so logically, I get him before he can get me. You wouldn’t have been the first guy to jump me, and I learned my lesson pretty quickly after the first two times.”

John’s mouth was hanging open, something Clara found quite amusing. Her explanation, of course, wasn’t the truth. Well, not the whole truth anyhow. She had been jumped before, and it was distinctly not pleasant. She knew he was an ex-Marine, not from his stance, but from knowledge brought from a totally different universe, from what she could guess.

“I-I wasn’t going to attack you!” he said defensively.

“Sure. Better safe than sorry though.”

As she said that, the black truck rumbled to a stop in front of a no-tell motel. John got out, then turned around and asked, “ya comin’ or what, kid?”

Clara slid out of the truck, dropping to the ground.

“Why, and I cannot emphasize this enough, the actual fuck is this thing so high up?”

“To make you complain. Hurry up, it actually is cold out here.” With that, he turned on his heel and marched into the lobby.

The poor kid at the desk was awoken by John Winchester’s fist pounding the desk. They got one room, two queens.

The moment Clara’s head hit the pillows she was out. Or so John assumed. She watched through mostly shut eyes as he methodically checked and cleaned his gun, then salted above the door and the windows. He finally crashed an hour after she’d “gone to sleep”. She waited another half hour, then allowed the darkness to drag her away from the land of the living.

- 6:43 AM, June 4, 1996, Pocatello, Idaho –

John Winchester awoke to the smell of coffee and bagels, and the sounds of an unfamiliar person moving about his room. Keeping his eyes shut, he inched his hand under his pillow, reaching for the familiar weight of his gun.

And found nothing.

A voice cut through the slight panic in his mind.

“Looking for this?”

John opened his eyes to see a fifteen year old girl standing above him, holding his gun. The events of the previous night came rushing back. He sighed, rubbed his eyes, and sat up, reaching out a hand to take the gun back. She set it in his palm, reached behind herself, and presented a cup of coffee.

“No idea how you take it, but I figured you might need some if we were gonna get an early start.”

“Two things: I take it with two creams, no sugar, and how’d you pay for this?”

“Noted, and I borrowed some money from your wallet. Drink up, I got you a bagel, you can eat it on the way.”

“…On the way to what exactly?”

“To show you that I don’t exist yet, genius.”

John had yet to drink the coffee, and thus did not really process her words or the fact that he was being bossed around by a teenaged girl.

Twenty minutes saw John caffeinated, fed, and in the truck on the way to Clara’s high school to get at the student records. It was at this point that he remembered her nonsensical statement.

“What the hell do you mean you don’t exist yet?”

“Oh. Um. Right. So while I was out this morning, I grabbed the paper. The date’s the 4th of June, 1996.”

“Yeah, and?”

She sucked in a breath. “And I was born February 3, 2005.”

Silence.

“Come again?”

“I was born Feb-”

“No, I heard you. I just don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Hey, I assume you saw that cyclone. It pulled me out of May 2020, on the road out of Pocatello.”

“And you aren’t freaking out why, exactly?”

“I watch a very weird tv show.”

“So we’re going to your high school why?”

“To show you I’m not on the records. But you’ll likely find Daddy Dearest on there.” The way she said “Daddy Dearest” was full of bitterness and loathing. John stored that away for later.

“Right.”

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Upon arriving at the school, both of them slipped seamlessly into their roles. John, a tired single father, and Clara, his smart but shy daughter. The principal let them into her office, asking them a multitude of questions regarding their supposed move, Clara’s previous education, John’s job, their home situation, Clara’s fictional deceased mother. Fortunately for them, they both had plenty of experience lying on their toes. The moment the principal left to deal with a fight that Clara had set up on her way in by stealing one kid’s lunch and putting it in another kid’s bag, they were out of their seats, searching for the records. Clara started rifling through the drawers, while John seated himself in front of the computer. Four minutes later, John was clicking through student records and Clara was standing behind him.

“No Claras in here.”

“Probably because that’s a fake name. Try Rachel Fusson.”

“No Rachels, but there are a whole slew of Fussons. Currently enrolled are Owen and Daniel.”

“Owen’s the old man.”

Footsteps told of the principal’s approach. John quickly exited the file and shut the computer down, while Clara scrambled to close all the cabinets. They both slid into their seats a moment before she opened the door and attempted to look innocent. The principal apologized for the interruption and continued her interrogation. It took them half an hour to escape her clutches.

- 8:36 AM, June 4, 1996, Pocatello, Idaho –

Clara had woken that morning drenched in a cold sweat. Upon realizing that there was no immediate danger, she had relaxed and turned to the clock. 4:22 AM. The fuck was she supposed to do at 4 AM? She glanced to her right and saw another occupied bed. John Winchester. Right. She was no longer in the middle of a global pandemic, nor was she anywhere close to her home universe. She wasn’t terribly upset about being pulled out of a world where she couldn’t hug her friends, or even really see them. She also wasn’t terribly upset about being yanked away from her relatives, seeing as they were fairly dedicated to beating her down in every way possible. They had belittled her, toyed with her emotions, and, depending on the “transgression”, beat her. She did, however, miss her friends, her pets, and her girlfriend. Fuck. What would they think had happened? A snore jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Focus,” she hissed to herself.

First order of business: coffee and food. She got up, putting 15 years of sneaking into use to grab John’s wallet, his gun, and her shoes. She slipped out the front door and went in search of a coffee shop. Half an hour of wandering brought her to a hole-in-the-wall run by a guy wearing more layers than a Winchester and sporting a mustache the size of Texas. She bought two cups of coffee, two bagels, and the paper. She grabbed a couple of cups cream and some sugar for John, and headed back to the motel. She’d downed half her coffee and most of her bagel (and made her bed) when he started inching his hand toward his pillow in search of his gun. She made her way over to him.

Second order of business: get some food and coffee into John Winchester and then get him to the high school to show him the records and prove her case about being from 2020. She grinned at the panicked expression on the hunter’s face at finding no gun, holding up said gun and asking him if he was looking for it. Another half hour saw them safely arrived at the school, with John informed of her current predicament. Knowing they’d need a distraction, she put the shipper eyes to work, immediately spotting two boys with so much unresolved sexual tension between them that it’d turned to animosity from what she could see. She nabbed the taller one’s lunchbox, slipping it into the other one’s backpack. She hoped they’d get their heads out of their asses soon, but not soon enough to unravel her plan (everyone who said shipping was a waste of time and energy could suck it).

After the principal left, Clara sprung for the drawers, having no idea how to work the old computer (John really wasn’t much better). She scanned through the files, seeing detention slips, complaints, and write-ups, but no records.

“Hey.” John had found the records.

Forty-five minutes later, they were back at the motel.

“Okay, so lemme get this straight-” started John.

Clara snorted. “Good luck with that.”

John squinted, not getting it. He continued, “you were born in 2005, you came from the year 2020, and you can fight better than a lot of the “professionals” I know. Who the fuck are you, Clara? Or should I call you Rachel?”

“Let’s stick with Clara. I’m just a kid from Pocatello. I can fight, because, like I said, I’ve been jumped before. Once was enough, so I learned to fight so next time I wouldn’t be helpless. Why are you taking the time travel thing so well? You didn’t freak out, just questioned the hows and whys.”

“I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit, kid.” With that, he stood up and started packing the few things he’d unpacked the night before.

Clara sat and watched him, having nothing of her own to pack.

“Let’s go,” said John, moving out the door.

Chapter two here: X

#spn #constructive critism welcome #please don't hate #supernatural #fic #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #oc

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gtseven7 · 4 years

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My Seven Idols

this is the picture mentioned in the story

Summary:

Got7 as highschoolers as they deal with graduation and college at the same time starting up their own Youtube channel as idols.

A/N:

So this is chapter 1. Really, I wasnt supposed to write this thing but it has been bugging me for months and I just cant shake it off okay? I tried resisting thinking, dude you're on your way to the juicy parts of Seven Princes. But whelp I lost a battle within myself and wrote this anyway. I hope you guys like it!

masterlist

//prev

The click-clacking of the keyboard echoed in the room as Y/N furiously typed the remaining subtitle of the video she had been editing the last few nights. Hitting the export button, the brunette could finally exhale and relax. The beach aesthetic video she had been working on was now in the process of being complete. She just has to wait till it loads to a hundred and her hard work will pay off. Smiling to herself, she minimized the editing software and opened up her InstaBook. She scrolled leisurely, seeing the pictures of her peers and some from her photographer idols. Y/N was examining an aesthetic cityscape picture from one of her favorite photo blogs, Def, when her notification alerted her of a great news. Ding! And the words that popped up from the right corner of her screen made her screech. As it was almost midnight, she had to restrain herself and not wake her parents. But she can’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. She quickly clicked the pop up. It said: pjy_01 updated his profile picture. When the picture loaded, Y/N's jaw almost unhinged. Park Jinyoung a.k.a. Mr. Student Council President rarely posts a picture of himself. His feed was usually just books, food and random sceneries. He did have few self-taken pictures and Y/N was happy with it (some of them are really just bad quality but she’ll take it) but this one? This one’s just beautiful, amazing, gift from the heavens. He was sitting on a comfy white couch, staring directly at the camera with puppy eyes. His white button up was slightly unbuttoned(!!) as he wore an innocent face and a cute peace sign as a cherry on top. Y/N was just about to scream and jump around. But before that, she made sure to save the picture in her Jinyoung Stash folder. “Woah. What is this Jinyoung? You should always post things like this. I’ll be a happy woman.” She sighed dreamily, staring at her screen but missed the notification of her software that finished exporting her video.

Y/N was rudely interrupted when her phone suddenly rang. Not even looking at the caller id, she answered the call with an annoyed tone. “What?” No one would be phoning her at this time other than her best friend. “Yo chill out Y/N.” Youngjae laughed at the other end, knowing he most likely disturbed her from her hobby. Which isn’t entirely false, he just didn’t know that the hobby at the moment was staring at their president and not videography. ”It’s midnight Youngjae, what do you need?” She elicited another hearty laugh from the guy. Any other circumstance, she’ll laugh along since his laugh is contagious but this time was not it. “Well?”

“Geez, aren’t you such a joy tonight. I’m just gonna ask if you already finished the essay homework due tomorrow.”

Blank silence. It was then that Y/N laughed at the ridiculing situation. Homework? Was there ever one? And she voiced it out, still half cheerful and half threatening. Youngjae might be pranking her once again. “The essay homework Mr. Kwon asked us to do. The one about Romeo and Juliet. Don’t tell me you don’t remember?” Youngjae chuckled a little too, thinking that his friend was making fun of him. When the only sound he heard was the bark of his cute dog Coco beside him, Youngjae started to sweat. “You haven’t done a single thing didn’t you?!”

“I think I’m gonna puke. Youngjae-ahh~ What do I do?!”

Y/N's eyes bugged out, realizing that yes, there is indeed an essay due tomorrow. And it is for Mr. Kwon’s subject, her most feared teacher. Oh how that teacher terrifies her whole being. How could she be so stupid?! “Youngjae!!! What do I do? What do I do?!” Panic was starting to rise from her gut, her heart beating too fast that even midnight coffee can’t do. Add the obvious panic in her bestfriend’s voice on the other end, it made things worse for her. “I don’t know! Uh… I can lend you mine? Just modify some parts. Paraphrase things…”

“Oh my God Youngjae I love you. You’re the best!!”

“You owe me one Y/N.”

“I do, I do. Thanks so much.”

They bid goodnight to each other, Youngjae promising to pick her up from her house so she won’t be late; she once again praised his goodness before hanging up. And as promised, he sent her his homework, Jinyoung’s picture on her screen forgotten. Y/N once again typed relentlessly through the night.

“I bet Jinyoung never had a problem like this. Y/N you must do better!”

That motivation fueled her to write the essay about Romeo and Juliet even if she didn’t understand what it was about aside from it being a romance story. Little did the sophomore videographer know, her high pedestaled president sat on his chair under the dim light of his study desk at the same time as her. He was hunched in concentration on the essay he stalled on doing days before it was to be submitted.

No words flowed, his pen stuck mid-air. “Argh. What the heck is this shit about anyway?” Jinyoung huffed as he crumpled his nth paper and tossed it in the bin beside him. His brain was not cooperating with him that night and it’s just frustrating. Why does he have to explain why the economy of their country is not thriving as it used to? It’s just plain bullshit to be honest. He had mountains of council work the past few days and he wasn’t able to attend few classes including the class he was supposed to write this essay for. This is why he hates skipping, when things like this essay arrive, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t have time to read up everything that’s why he just went straight to bluffing his way out of the conclusion of the paper. The distracting noise of the instrument app on Jaebeom’s phone didn’t help him much either. “You have your own room, your own bed. Why are you always here?” His housemate just shrugged and continued his melody making. It was sounding good to be honest, not that his friend ever made a bad song but the other’s process was just making the writing too difficult for him. “How can I even finish when you distract me like this?”

“One, Jinyoung, it was your fault for not doing it earlier. Two, you are not distracted by my music. You just don’t want to do that stupid paper.”

And it hit him too well. He’s right. Most times, Jaebeom’s music calms him but this time his brain just straight up refuses to do a thing. His long haired companion exited the app after saving his work. Jaebeom laid down on Jinyoung’s bed. He patted the space beside him, encouraging the other to lie down with him and sleep. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Get some sleep first, you’ve had a harsh week.”

“Get out of my bed.”

“Hmm…”

And with that, Jaebeom closed his eyes to sleep. He’s not a fast sleeper per se, he’s just waiting for Jinyoung to join him but he didn’t. He opened his eyes just a slit saw the student body president scribbling again with a determined face.

Few hours after, it was almost three in the morning. Jinyoung has to get up at six to prepare for their eight o’clock class. He doesn’t like not sleeping properly but for the sake of that damned paper, he had to sacrifice. He sighed once again and turned off the lamp. Looking to his right, he saw his friend sleeping peacefully, facing him from the farther half of the bed. Jinyoung shook his head in exasperation. He sat on the unoccupied side and stared at his friend of ten years. His face lax and serene. The nose ring glints under the soft glow of the stars from the window. Jinyoung’s hand inched towards the other’s face, stopping midway. He clenched his fist and brought it back to himself. ‘Ah, I really wanna remove that nose ring so badly.’

Morning came and the sunlight was harsh on Y/N’s face. She finished her essay in time, luckily. She trudged along the hallways of their small house, the only thing that woke her up completely was the smell of fresh bacon being cooked. She quickly ate her breakfast, showered and said goodbye to her parents with a tired smile. The sound of the bell announced the arrival of Youngjae by their door. She opened it and her friend almost screamed bloody murder. “I thought a zombie came out to eat me.”

“Shut up.”

Youngjae laughed and slung an arm on her shoulders. He ruffled her already messy hair further. “Did you finish the write up?” She gave a gloomy thumb’s up while yawning, earning a giggle from the boy. “Ah seriously, you should take care of your studies more Y/N.”

“Says you. You were up all night long playing. I can see it on the bags under your eyes.”

“At least I finished my work before doing so, unlike someone I know…”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disapproval but she knows he’s right though. “I got carried away with the good shots I had when me and Yeji went to the beach last week. Aah, I made such a good video last night.” Youngjae smiled at her friend as he watched her walk half asleep.

Y/N and Youngjae were friends since they were toddlers. With their mothers practically sisters because of their closeness, and their houses are just one backyard away from each other, the two developed a close friendship. Oftentimes they’d be hanging out in their places, playing video games or reading comics. Although when they started to grow up more, they drifted away slightly, having different circles of friends. That didn’t bother the two of them though. They thought that it’s better to have their friendship outside school so that they won’t get sick seeing each other’s faces all the time. With this, they rarely go to school together anymore. Their classmates are in the dark about their closeness as well.

Youngjae pulled out his phone and scrolled his pictures. He suddenly got excited about showing his bestfriend about his dog’s new outfit he bought recently. “Y/N, Y/N, look at Coco. I bought a new shirt. It’s so cute.” He practically shoved the phone on her eyes but it didn’t matter much to her as she was as excited as him. They practically raised that cute dog together. “Omo! Coco’s so adorable!” They were both bouncing on their steps as they look at the dog’s pictures posing differently with each new clothing. The two of them were cooing. “Ah, Coco is such a joy.”

"Y/N!”

They both stopped on their tracks when they heard a familiar voice. It was Yeji, Y/Ns other bestfriend outside Youngjae (he’s still the bestest but Yeji doesn’t know that). She happily waved at her two classmates, a teasing smile forming on her face already. ‘Youngjae and Y/N walking together eh? How interesting!’

Yeji’s appearance was their cue to head apart so Y/N smiled at Youngjae and said goodbye. “See ya later in class!” He just hummed in agreement, seeing as his peers are also in sight. He waved at Yeji and parted with Y/N He walked towards his other friends and greeted them.

"So Youngjae huh?”

“What about him?”

“Nothing…” Which wasn’t true because now she is sporting a silly smile on her face. Probably imagining things outside of this world and conjuring up different ways how her friend and Youngjae fall in love. Yeji is a fangirl at heart and she just ships everybody. She never imposes it to everyone though, she’s just happy to think about it and keep it to herself. Amazingly enough though, the people she secretly shipped usually ends up together at some point. But Y/N knows her too well and she knows the outlandish things going in her mind right now. “We just happened to meet along the way Yeji.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

The school entrance as it always is, was full of commotion. More so today than usual. Y/N saw a hoard of students lining up the gate with annoyed expressions. ‘Ah, it’s probably President Jinyoung.’ She giggled to herself, happy to see him early in the morning. She’s still a little bit over the moon with his latest picture. “Do I look okay?”, that question snapped Y/N out of her daydream (the picture still lingering at the back of her mind). Yeji took out a small mirror and checked herself out. She combed her hair with her fingers, checked her uniform, straightened everything that doesn’t look ironed out. “You know he just nags at those who violate badly. We’ll never get reprimanded.” Yeji breathed deeply as she puts her mirror back to her bag. “I’m just making sure you know. I don’t want those cold eyes stare at me. It’s scary.” Y/N wanted to protest, ‘Jinyoung’s not scary! It’s a part of his charm!’ but a whine stopped her from doing so. While they were talking, they have pushed inside the crowd to get in and not be late for class. They reached the front where Jinyoung was standing sternly, his mouth thinned in disapproval. “Bhuwakul. How many times do I have to confiscate that earrings of yours?!”

“Why are you so keen on getting these anyway? Would I do better in my tests if I don’t wear them?” The boy, with his id lace yellow (which means he’s a *freshie), was so close to stomping his feet. But Jinyoung was not fazed and just stared at the boy with a piercing stare. “If you wear them, would you do better? No right? So hand them to me. You violated the school dress code. Come get it at my office after school.”

The people around them were murmuring, Y/N even caught what the others are saying. They think that Jinyoung was being unreasonable and harsh for no reason. ‘Which isn’t true! He just cares about what the students of this school looks like.' The sophomore turned to glare at the onlookers that defamed their president. ‘Ungrateful fools.’ But she was startled when the tall boy (oh my he’s tall) beside the one named Bhuwakul spoke innocently. “Let him be, he probably just wants to wear your earrings.” Even Yuna, the student council secretary, was shocked at the carefree manner of his dialogue. The president just raised his right eyebrow, “Kim Yugyeom, button up your uniform and tie your necktie properly.” and reprimanded the other freshie without hesitation. Yugyeom grimaced a bit but did what he was told. ‘You should be the one buttoning your clothes last night President huhu’

Despite the commotion at the front gate (which happens almost everyday as Jinyoung loves to greet the student body with “Rule # 5 under the clause of the dress code law….), Y/N and the students of their campus managed to get to their class safely. When they entered their homeroom, Y/N and Yeji was greeted by Ga Young, another friend of theirs. It seemed that she had only arrived a few minutes before them. “Yo! Entrance was pretty hectic today.”

Yeji made a face and flipped her brow wavy hair away from her face as if she was hassled on their way over. “Ugh, don’t tell us. We had to push our way out earlier.” They both giggled and chattered mindlessly about the events that morning.

“Don’t you think the foreigner freshie earlier was kind of cute?” Ga Young said dreamily, looking at the ceiling as if he could see his face there. “Oh, that one with the earrings?”

“Yep. We’re blessed with another foreigner beauty.” That’s true, the videographer thought. He’d look good on camera.

“Yeon Seo isn’t a foreigner.” Y/N countered, debating that her friend’s crush wasn’t exactly from another country. He grew up in their city just like everyone else is.

“He’s a half-half though.”

“The tall freshie had a face too.”

Yeji and Ga Young started to talk about the new eye candy they found. Those two are fans of idols, especially the amateur ones they have in their school. Y/N absentmindedly listened to the two’s gossip. Sometimes she thinks she’s in a webtoon or something. These kinds of things exist on books and comics even dramas that she consumes. Y/N still can’t believe such things are in her reality. Aren’t groups of popular boys with a cheesy group name only in fiction? She wondered if it’s possible that this is not a real world.

“But you know, I heard rumors that Bhuwakul's gay.”

That piqued Y/N's interest. Not that there’s any problem with being gay, the rumor just caught her interest. Not many people are brave enough to admit their sexuality in their community so it was pretty interesting.

“Eh? Who told you?”

“My freshie cousin told me. He said that he’s close with girls and gives fashion advice. He’s on the softer side as well.”

Huh… Y/N thought it was a baseless rumor after all. “That doesn’t mean he’s gay though.”

“That’s true.”

When the talk about the foreign freshie Bhuwakul ended, the other two started to talk about their favorite topic once again. The Five Roses. Y/N was just done with that subject and had heard enough to last her a lifetime. She couldn’t even understand why the girls in their school seemed to be under their spell. In Y/N’s opinion, they aren’t that good looking. Heck, even Mr. Cold Eyes Jinyoung was much more handsome. ‘Especially if they saw last night’s picture. How come they don’t talk about it?!’

“Ji Woo looked handsome today too!”

‘Oh come on, even Youngjae looks better than that guy.’ At the thought of her bestfriend, she turned to glance at him. He seemed to have caught her and gave him those warm sunny smiles that made her heart beat a bit faster. Even if she doesn’t consider her childhood friend as a man, she’s sure that he’s a good looking guy.

//next

#got7 #got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #jackson wang #park jinyoung #kim yugyeom #mark tuan #bambam #choi youngjae #im jaeboem #got7 fic #my seven idols

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nerdiests · 5 years

Text

o lei o lai o lord

ah yes, another @linkeduniverse fic for the LU discord weekly prompt - i wrote this whole thing today over the course of about three hours and i’m very proud of it!!

check it out on ao3 under the same name!!

linked universe was created by @jojo56830 !!

The day was winding down at this point. The sun was starting to set below the treeline of the clearing they’d taken refuge in. Dinner had been made and eaten, and the group was all settling in for a rest. Four was polishing his sword, Wild was scrolling through something on his Sheikah Slate, Warriors was messing with a few flowers, Hyrule was reading something, Legend was looking through his pack for something or rather, Wind was smiling as he read over a letter, Twilight was reading a book, and Time appeared to be asleep. Sky was content for the moment, just looking up at the clouds as the colors of the sky started to shift from blue to pink and yellow and orange. But his hands itched to do something - he’d been walking the whole day and he just wanted to do something with his hands. Maybe…

With the slightest of smiles on his face, Sky rummaged about in his bag for a bit before coming across the exact thing he’d been looking for - his harp. He spotted Legend raising an eyebrow at him from across camp as he sat back down with harp in hand, but Sky just shrugged it off. He wanted to hear harp music, and that’d let him do something with his hands.

There were a few noises of slight surprise as quiet harp song started up, but the harp persisted as people continued to go about settling down for the night. It was nice background music to have, in Sky’s mind. The music was quiet, but it had a way of filling the clearing they sat in. And the rest of the group had come to the same conclusion, and the way that Warriors was humming along was definitely a confirmation of that. He spotted Wind’s head moving to the beat, and one of Legend’s fingers tapping. Sky wasn’t playing anything in particular, but there was something he could play. Not something that they’d all recognize, but it was something Sky could play either way.

Chords started to ring throughout the clearing, and Sky let his eyes drift shut as his hands moved through the motions of the harp he’d learned years prior. His Zelda had taught him this song when they were both younger. In simpler times. This piece was one of the first songs he had learned to play, if not the first itself. And Sky knew that by far, this piece was one of the best he could play.

Sky’s eyes drifted back open when he heard humming again - from Warriors. Who else would be humming along? To Sky’s surprise, though, it wasn’t Warriors humming along. It was Twilight, who was still reading his book, but he hummed along with a slightly modified tune. If Warriors wasn’t humming, then what was he doing? Sky glanced over, and was even more surprised to see Warriors mouthing along words to the song. There weren’t words to this - Sky would know if there were words to this piece, he’d known it for years. In his surprise, he stumbled over a note - which he shouldn’t’ve done, he knew this piece in and out - and Twilight’s humming stopped. Everyone turned to look over at Sky, who’s stumble had made what should’ve been a satisfying conclusion for a progression into a discordant ending.

“Did something happen, Sky?” Wind asked, sounding concerned. Sky blinked a few times, before looking over at Warriors.

“You were mouthing words to the song I was playing,” Sky said. There was a nod from Warriors as he set down the flowers he’d arranged into a braided bouquet of sorts.

“Yeah, because there are words to the song and I know them,” Warriors replied, passing the braided flowers over to Hyrule, who smiled at the spontaneous gift.

“There… There’s never been words to that song in my memory,” Sky said, setting his harp down next to him. Warriors paused at that.

“That song has had words for as long as I can remember. My mother used to sing that song around the house a lot, and whenever a bard passed through our town, that would be a popular piece to perform,” Warriors said, his brow furrowing slightly.

“I know that song as well, the children always asked me to play it for them back in Ordon,” Twilight chipped in, putting a bookmark at the page he was reading and gently putting it up in his bag.

“But I’ve never heard words for it, or a violin ever playing this song,” Sky said. There was a quiet moment, as the three of them thought for a moment. Warriors’ hand was on his chin, Twilight’s brow was furrowed, and Sky was just looking down at his harp, befuddled.

“...How would you like to hear the words, Sky?” Warriors asked after a minute or two had passed, snapping Sky out of his thoughts. There was a silence in the clearing at this point, and Sky just knew that everyone was watching this interaction carefully.

“...Is there anything in particular that I need to play or just play what I’ve been playing?” Sky asked. In his periphery, Sky noticed Wind perk up, but his main focus was on Warriors and how he lit up.

“From what I could hear you playing, just do exactly what you were doing but a bit faster - Twilight, you said you knew the violin part for it?” Warriors asked, turning from Sky to Twilight.

“You don’t even need to ask,” Twilight replied, reaching into his own bag to pull out his violin. Sky started to fiddle around with his harp again, Twilight started making sure his violin was in tune, and Warriors hummed a few warm ups. The rest of the group watched on with interest. Sky noticed Wind and Hyrule both visibly vibrating. Although Sky was more focused on making sure that his harp was in good shape to play something faster, since he’d been playing it at a slower pace. Not only had Sky noticed that Warriors was mouthing words at a faster pace, but he was asked to play faster. So making sure he could move faster was a necessity.

“You two ready?” Warriors asked as Sky set his harp in his lap and Twilight stood up with his violin at the ready, bow poised over the strings. With nods from both Sky and Twilight, Warriors stood up, but not before glancing subtly over at Legend.

“If you haven’t heard this song before, the tune is fairly suitable to dance to,” Warriors said, directing both Twilight and Sky’s gazes towards the lone dancer of their group.

“Is this what peer pressure feels like?” Legend asked, reaching into his bag to presumably retrieve his dancing shoes. Warriors was grinning almost maniacally, and Sky could feel a smile on his face. It was nice, he thought, to have times like this. Where they could relax and have music. Speaking of…

“What tempo are we going at?” Legend asked, looking between Warriors and Sky. Sky looked over at Warriors for the answer, since he wasn’t really sure. The one who knew the version of the song would know the tempo, or at least that’s what Sky thought.

“Folk song fast - possibly about as fast as the music Twilight was playing when you danced for us last,” Warriors replied, and Legend whistled.

“Damn, you sure you’ll be able to keep up with that, pretty boy?” Legend asked, raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

“Watch and you’ll see,” Warriors replied evenly, before looking back over at Sky.

“If you don’t mind, Sky?” Warriors asked. Sky nodded at that, glancing over at the rest of the group before letting his fingers drift over the harp’s strings. The music was quiet, but most harp music was. But when Warriors came in and started singing after the second repetition of the chorus… Sky could definitely say he wasn’t expecting it.

“There will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword,” Warriors sang. His voice was crisp, and clear, and this isn’t what they had heard when Warriors had sung last. And oh, that verse seemed like all of them, the heroes.

“He will tear your city down, o lei, o lai, o lord.” Never mind about the heroes comment.

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord. He will tear your city down, o lei, o lai, o lord.” Twilight had joined in on the words at that point, and Legend seemed to have gotten a grip on the beat of the song. Legend started swaying and the swaying turned to dance as the small interval without words ended and the next verse began.

“There will come a poet, whose weapon is his word,” Warriors sang, and Sky could hear whistling. Someone was whistling as he played and Warriors sang and Legend danced. With a quick glance, Sky confirmed it was Four - who else could whistle with that perfect pitch?

“He will slay you with his tongue, o lei, o lai, o lord.” The words kept the beat, Sky found. He didn’t have to endlessly repeat with danger of going through a part he’d already done, with the separation that the verses allowed for.

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord. He will tear your city down, o lei, o lai, o lord,” Twilight joined Warriors in the verse again, before starting in on some violin. Legend’s dance became the forefront of the piece, and Four kept up with his whistling that didn’t fit with the words but fit into the whole of the song nonetheless. And as the words started up again, the violin died out but the whistling persisted.

“There will come a ruler, whose brow is laid in thorn,” Warriors and Twilight both sang this bit, though one sounded a fair bit better than the other.

“Smeared with oil like David’s boy, o lei, o lai o lord.” This was Warriors alone, as Twilight dropped out for that bit of the verse. Sky noted that Wind was moving his hands about a bit, as if he were conducting an orchestra. Hm…

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord. Smeared with oil like David’s boy, o lei, o lai, o lord,” Twilight joined Warriors again, and the whistling grew louder. Legend’s dance grew a bit more intense as the whistling did, yet there wasn’t a gap in the words.

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord. He will tear your city down, o lei, o lai…” There was a pause, and even Sky stopped momentarily, getting the silent cue. The whistles were gone, and Legend had froze mid movement. For half a second, the clearing was filled with silence.

And then it came back.

“Oh,” the note went up, and Sky picked up the harp song again. The whistling picked back up with the harp, and Legend started to move yet again. Twilight plucked out some quick pizzicato on his violin, and Warriors started to sway in his place.

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lai, o.” Everyone in the group sang this bit - Legend’s dance grew less intense as he sang along with both Twilight and Warriors, and Sky hummed the tune to the words as he kept up with his harp. The violin started up again, and Legend jumped up and spun. The vocals came back again right as Legend completed a second spin after a short sequence.

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lai, o.” With the second repetition, Sky joined in on the words, drawing Warriors and Twilight’s surprise. What? He was allowed to sing! And he’d caught the gist at this point, it’d be a shame if they didn’t have an extra voice to add in. And as Twilight went off on the repetition of the violin part, Sky let a bit of flair sneak into his harp. He wanted it to sound good, dagnabbit!

“O lei, o lai, o lei, o lai, o lei, o lai, o lei, o lai, o!” Warriors’ pitch gradually got higher, ending on a high crisp note, and everyone else’s voices chorusing in - the one that shocked Sky the most was Time, humming along - supported that high crisp note. It was wonderful, and Sky loved how the different parts came together. And as the last few notes rang throughout the clearing, Sky looked up at Warriors to see a happy grin on his face, one of true glee.

“...The words were a lot catchier than I thought,” Sky said, breaking the silence that had persisted in the ending of the piece. With the magic broken, the clapping started. First Hyrule, then Wind, then the others that hadn’t participated in some way - and those that had.

“That improvisation on the harp was wonderfully done, Sky,” Twilight said, and Sky smiled bashfully.

“Well… I just thought that a bit of flair might help a bit,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Your violin was amazing, though! And Legend, the dancing was wonderful, and Four I loved the whistling. And Warriors - you really brought the story of the song to life!” Sky turned to each of the people he mentioned as they were mentioned, and the grin he had was apparently infectious, because the rest of them started to as well. Warriors looked uncharacteristically bashful, though.

“It… It wasn’t much, really. Just how I learned how to sing it from my mother. It’s a pretty popular lute piece back in my hyrule,” Warriors said, glancing away from the rest of the group and… Was that a hint of red on his face? Sky wasn’t going to mention it.

“Are you embarrassed, Warriors?” Legend teased. Oh, and there was someone mentioning it.

“No!” Warriors replied, voice squeaking a bit and. Wow Sky hadn’t thought that was something possible.

“You are,” Twilight said, sounding slightly surprised. Warriors’ face went slightly redder.

“So you can take a million compliments from pretty girls yet one compliment from a friend is what flusters you?” Legend said, and there he was with that teasing tone again.

“Pretty people just give me platitudes, that was sincere! That’s what’s flustering about it!” Warriors replied, as laughter started up among the group. Warriors, the flirt, unable to take a sincere compliment? Bonkers.

“It’s not funny!” Warriors said, voice higher than normal, and the laughter only increased. If this was going to cause fun things like this, Sky would have to bring his harp out spontaneously more often.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #nerdiwrites #to make up for the fact that i didn't finish my last weekly #which i will finish but i prioritized this one #either way i wrote this in three hours and i am very happy about this #also the song? soldier poet king by the oh hellos

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vegetacide · 5 years

Text

Whump●tober - Tear-stained

Veg-notables: so this happened on my lunch break yesterday while I was hiding in my car listening to music Passed out last night before I could finish it.. So.. hmm.. Well here we are. I am lacking caffeine today and doing a great impression of a sleep deprived V so please excuse my ramblings

Additionally, as I now seem to be doing these out of order.. I am taking the numbering out of the headers..

@gumnut-logic - ::duck tapes to chair, mummifies in toilet paper...inspects works::: “Perfect! Zom-nut”

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: A continuation of breaking and tearing apart the TaG family. Angst-be-gone chocolate might be needed after this one…

Characters: Scott, Kayo and Gordon

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Previous part can be found HERE

14 .Tear-stained

Enjoy…

oOo

Stepping out of the waiting room, Kayo made her way down the hall on hurried, unsteady feet. Darting around shocked nurses and stumbling into hospital orderlies.

She had no sense of where she was going. All she knew was that she just needed out.

Out of the stark white, sterile, overly sanitized maze of cinder block walls and large, faux wood paneled swinging doors with their little, mesh inlaid windows.

Out of the softly spoken, overly compassionate voice filled spaces with their faint, rhythmic beep, beep, beep and the whooosh of the ventilators.

Away from the sad, knowing eyes of her friends and family.

And away from the knowledge that she just might not make it out the other side of this ordeal. If the heart of the man she cared for more than life itself couldn't make it one more hour, one more day, one more year, she was going to be reduced to a shell of herself and the aftermath of which she didn't even want to fathom.

A lifetime of knowing he wouldn't be there.

Her chest tightened, her vision blurred and lungs starved for breathe. She nearly cried out at the first glimpse of the harsh red light at the end of the corridor that declared her escape with blaring four inch letters.

Her exit out. Her egress. Her chance at being away from it even if just for a few short, desperate minutes.

Legs numb, heart pounding, tears threatening she punched through the heavy steel door and flew down the stairs. Racing from the hurt, the agony of having to sit stationary in that room surrounded by the ones that would live. Could live and move on when she could not.

Stuck in the fading rhythm of that beep, beep, beep….

Pushing through the last barricade she burst out into the gloriously bright sunlight. The breeze hot, dry, blistering, the air thick with the song of cicadas and the dappled sun slanting through the lush, green foliage.

Such a contrast to the inside. Such an insult to her senses after too long of being deprived.

God, she needed him.

If he didn't make it, if the IDB* wasn't successful with their synthesizing process, she would fade away right along with him.

Panic gripped her as the lonely years stretched out ahead of her into the unknown distance and she took off.

She needed more distance, more air to clear her head of the churning chaos of her mourning.

God, he wasn't gone yet. Why was she thinking like this?

She'd lost more than her fair share in life.. in the short span of it she had lived. Her mother, her home, her father to a quest that possibly had no end. An uncle that was lost to a darkness that no one understood.

Why couldn't she just have this one thing for herself. Why did everything have to be such a struggle? Why did he have to converse with death and threaten to leave her?

She snorted derisively at herself, self deprecation humming through her veins as she threw herself around a bricked corner and right into the churning angry maw of a viper’s nest.

Her face stained with tears, flinched and drew back at the harsh flashes of light and the buzzing of holo-drones.

Her name was being shouted, mics and people clawing to get close, to get the first comment out of one of the fabled Tracy clan.

"Miss Kyrano, are the rumours true..?" From one direction.

"Can you confirm the identity of the victim in this heinous attack on your family?" Came from another.

"What is his status? Will there be a state funeral?"

"Our audience has a right to know, is this it for International Rescue?"

Too much, too soon. She couldn’t cope with this right now.

Her eyes darted about, not seeing a clear path out of the horde of swarming reporters. All yelling for her, demanding that they had a right to the private, intimate details of a family in the maelstrom of suffering.

Eyes clenched shut, teeth grinding, ears ringing with the continual barrage of question after question. Staggering at the cusp of completely losing it, of making a mockery of the family she was tied to, the crowd suddenly stilled. The passivity so surreal, so sudden that she nearly jumped out of her skin when a pair of strong hands wrapped around her shoulders.

The tall, commanding force of nature, stood strong and imposing beside her. His roguish good looks, only slightly hampered by the drawn lines of fatigue that lines his mouth and around his eyes with increasing clarity.

Dressed casually in slacks and an oxford top he still managed to exuded the air of assertive confidence that he was well known for and she tried to draw her own strength from that. Just like he knew she would.

Looking down at her before addressing the mass of hounding newsagents, his blue gaze conveyed more words than one would think possible in such a short instance. They were a united front and no one would have to face this alone.

Giving her a quick squeeze, he addressed the media. “We thank you all for your continued patience and understanding but our family respectfully declines to comment at this time. Should you have any questions, please direct them to our media liaison at Tracy Industries.”

Some of the wiser newsies knew when an official ‘piss off’ had been issued and backed off. The more tenacious of the vulturous bunch kept up the volley of inquiries but Scott; ever familiar with the process, handled it like a pro.

Kayo was turned and guided through the throng as a TI security detail closed in around them, ushering them in the front doors of the facility and into the relative quiet of the busy hospital lobby.

It was then that her legs gave out and she faltered.

Scott’s arms held her up, his strength was her support and she latched on to it as she was steered to a discreet corner. Away from the prying eyes of the general public and out of camera distance from the gathering out front, she finally let go.

His voice was soft in her ear, comforting and reassuring as her silent tears marked the fine cotton of his shirt. “It will be okay.” He kept repeating like a mantra. The shaky edge to his voice making it seem like he was also trying to convince himself. And perhaps he was.

“Where were you?” Her voice caught, her thin frame quacking with raw emotion. “We needed you.”

“I’m sorry… I.. I’m so so sorry..” His hand rubbed circles over her back, body swayed in an attempt to sooth.

For several minutes no more words were spoken, just the gentle rocking and the quietude of shared grief for their company.

Eventually Kayo's silent tears stalled out, her laboured breathing calmed and everything seemed to still. A pause button on the universe.

The voices and sounds faded off to nothing, and she was just herself once again.

"You alright now?" A quiet question as he pulled back to look at her.

She gave a slow nod, wiped a hand across her cheeks, hiding her face away from him as she rallied her control.

One long, steady inhalation, and she stepped back. Composed as much as she could be with a tear reddened face, and swollen eyes.

"I will be". She announced and straightened her shoulders. Returned was the security specialist, stony, resilient and deadly.

"Good."

“Did you find what you were after?” There was an edge of anger in her tone that she couldn’t quite contain. Why had Virgil’s closest brother had taken off? Why he had been gone so long? She could dig for the answer but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.

“I’m not sure yet.” Was his answer and the look in Scott’s eyes sent a chill down her spine.

Somethings she knew, were better left where they were.

Hurried feet drew their attention and they moved as one to see Gordon jogging towards them.

"Thank fuck, I finally found you." The aquanaut wheezed, his whiskey eyes settling on her blotchy face. He knew better than to comment.

His gaze flicked over to Scott and there was a moment where something passed between them. Some unvoiced question that had Scott giving a brief nod. Gordon seemed satisfied with that and a brotherly greeting was exchanged, a quick hug, slap of open palms on each others backs.

They were all but dragged towards the bank of elevators that would lead them back up to the intensive care unit.

“Gordon, what’s going on? Did something happen?” Panic crept into Kayo’s voice.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” Gordon grinned and pushed them all into the open doors of the elevator car.

The suspense was enough to drive her up the wall. “Well, spill Squid.”

“Doctors and those Infectious Disease guys say they have some cautiously optimistic news.” He supplied, “Said they managed to synthesize enough modified antibodies that they can start treating Virgil.”

There was a stunned silence in the car.

Gordon turned to them, his smile growing in width along with his hope. “As long as Virg can hold out, they’re hopeful they can help him fight the meningitis infection. They think they can cure him.”

oOo

IDB - Infectious Disease Board

Next post can be found HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober2019 #whumptober #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfic #no.14 #tear-stained #Kayo Kyrano #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #virgil/kayo #the prompt made me do it

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franceslittlenightmare · 5 years

Photo

S T A I R W A Y T O H E A V E N.

: — ;Solo # 4 — ; Mid October Two Thousand Ninteen — ;Trigger warning: Mentions of an Eating Disorder — ; Song: Stairway To Heaven By Led Zepplin

— ; Admin Notes: This is Elsa’s current state. After our Royal Pains hiatus I figured we all needed starting points and explanations for our character’s absence. So, Elsa went to treatment for her ED from September to early November. She’s finally returned and basically is trying to get her life back on track. Her personality is still very much the same.

❝There's a lady who's sure All that glitters is gold And she's buying a stairway to heaven When she gets there she knows If the stores are all closed With a word she can get what she came for Oh oh oh oh and she's buying a stairway to heaven There's a sign on the wall But she wants to be sure 'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings In a tree by the brook There's a songbird who sings Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiving Ooh, it makes me wonder.❞ Elsa Grimaldi drew in a deep breath of air, pausing for a moment before exhaling. It had only been an hour since she was checked in but time was dragging by. Each excruciating minute after the next burned her up inside. It felt like a fire was raging itself through her body, destroying whatever stood in its path. Since arriving at the Eating Disorders clinic Elsa couldn't help but to notice how everyone kept acting like she was at some world star resort. All of the employees hid the depressing atmosphere with painted on smiles and matching lilac colored outfits, as if they weren't here to watch people literally kill themselves. At the Estate her absence was announced as a "retreat" which pissed the girl off even more. While her self confidence was low and she hated what she saw in the mirror, Elsa was never embarrassed of her Anorexia. It was very much part of herself, ingrained in every essence of her being. So, sugar coating the fact that she was dying infuriated the girl. The disease was a long time best friend, a trait in her personality, she was protective over the thing that had been destroying her body for the last five years. The first weigh in however, was absolutely modifying. As the petite princess entered the sterile white doctors office the smell of alcohol and bleach invaded her senses. The faint smell of the lavender plant in the window made her laugh internally, as if they could cover up the smell of sickness. As the girl was instructed to drop her white robe by a man with a friendly smile she couldn't help but to internally panic. It was something Elsa Grimaldi would never admit but, she was filled with an overwhelming anxiety about stripping off in front of anyone. Outwardly she gave off a confident, almost cocky, persona. But, that was a front, on the inside she was about as small and as fragile as one could be. The only man who had ever seen her fully naked was her ex, Ashton Deutch, and that took a lot of courage. So, the girl could feel the tears that began to prick at her white chocolate orbs. She slowly untied the wrap that held the robe to her small frame. Then, she dropped the piece of clothing. Why did it have to be a man? "Alright Ms.Grimaldi, go ahead and step up onto that scale right there. Once it beeps just hop off, put the robe on and head over to room 203." The man spoke kindly but rather monotone as he went through the motions, staring down at his clipboard. Elsa couldn't look back at him though, she was frozen in fear. This was exactly what she was afraid of, standing on the scale stark naked as she confronted exactly what she was terrified of, herself. Tears begun to fall over her hollowed cheeks as she stood there, staring down at the sleek glass scale, listening to it taunt her. "Is everything alright? I can get a female nurse over here if that's what would make you comfortable-" the man continued, interrupted by the soft voice of Elsa, a contrast to her usual direct tone. “No, I- I’m fine. Just, um.. just one moment please.” She trailed off, her arms wrapped around the thin frame of skin and bones that held her up and barley kept her heart beating. The French girl drew in another deep breath, trying to find the courage to step on the scale. Getting on it meant starting recovery. It meant acknowledging that she was sick. It meant coming to terms with the fact that she was dying. Getting on that scale meant so many things Elsa was afraid to come face. “I promise everything is going to be alright.” The voice spoke out again, softer than before. Elsa nodded once, long locks of chocolate colored hair falling in front of her face as she glanced down to watch her step. Slowly, she stood on the scale, her eyes shutting as she willed her mind to take her away from this current moment. After a few unbearable seconds the man thanked her and handed Elsa back her robe. The initial evaluation wasn’t good, she knew that. Prior to the weigh-in her vitals were also checked and various other minor things. She knew the results were bad just from looking at his expression. Quickly, she dressed again and dipped out of the room to find where she would be staying for the next to weeks before the male nurse could say anything further. After settling into her room, or more like pacing around, Elsa was summoned to a house meeting to hear the rules. Then, it was dinner time. She dreaded it, absolutely despised meal times with every single fiber of her being. Elsa Grimaldi had an addictive personality. When it came to liquor, shopping, men see it once and she was hooked. As a small child Elsa remembered the first Audrey Hepburn movie she watched, then rewatched twenty six times that month- Roman Holiday. It was a movie about a young princess who yearns to experience a normal life and ends up escaping and finding love in an ordinary man. Something about that movie called out to her. Her addictive personality only grew more intense with age. She continued to latch onto and devour the same obsessions. That is until she came face to face with her eating disorder. Food became her newest addiction, the rush and control she felt. But, as the years went on her eating disorder began to control her and run Elsa’s life. So, as she sat in the chair, petite frame rigid and small as she stared down at the plate of food. It started with something small for her first day, tomato soup. Every patient had a specialized meal plan along with their overall treatment plan. Tomato soup was a staple in her diet back in France. So, while the familiarity was comforting it only annoyed the girl more. Slowly, she lifted her spoon, dipping it into the vivid red liquid as she began to stir absentmindedly. The Parisian woman noted how the liquid reminded her of blood, undeniably so. “Elsa-“ The voice broke her out of the trance she was in. “A bite, just one.” The voice repeated, an older female counselor. “I promise you, the road to recovery starts with one bite. I know it’s incredibly difficult, but remember why you’re here, your baby boy.” The girl hated that, she despised it. They used her son as leverage. But, she couldn’t quite be mad. Using the baby as a way to save her life wasn’t exactly criminal. Elsa promised the infant, or promised herself, that she was going to be around to watch Grayson grow up. She would be the mother she never had and unconditionally and fiercely protect the child she had carried and loved for nine months. It wasn’t like the Parisian girl to grow attached to another person. Her deepest longest bonds had been with her brother, her own father and the father of her child. They were all complex, one of those relationships being deemed as toxic by her therapist. Another body she had developed recently was with a man of authority, an Italian man she had no businesses even talking to. Yet, all of her dynamics with men were complicated and took a toll on the girl. So, she wanted to get it right with Grayson, her child. With a deep heaving sigh Elsa lifted up her spoon. Her hand shook slightly as she held the utensil up to her plumped lips. With big Bambi like eyes she glanced up at the personal therapist on her case, the friendly woman giving her a reassuring smile as she nodded once. Carefully, she inched the spoon closer to her mouth, quickly slipping on the red liquid and then pulling the spoon back once more. “Good, that’s good Elsa. Progress is important. Yesterday you were almost in Kidney failure. Today, you’re out of bed and participating. I’m proud of you-“ the woman chided with a friendly smile, gently patting Elsa’s frail shoulder as she stood up to fetch the woman a glass of water and her medicine for the meal; antidepressants and vitamins. As Elsa processed everything she caught her reflection in the spoon. Her wide eyed staring back at her, empty and scared. She didn’t realize what she looked like. She was no longer the fiery woman who hid behind insults, attitude and an ice wall. Her defenses had been stripped down and she was Elsa, that little vulnerable French girl. For the second time that day her eyes began to well up with tears. Silently, she let them fall, holding the spoon as she watched tears adorn her cheeks. She truly saw herself, the person she used to recognize. This was the start of something, Elsa thought to herself. a faint smile dancing across her tired features as she dipped the spoon back into the soup, taking another cautious bite as she began to eat.

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ilovemygaydad · 5 years

Text

I’m Doing Fine

from the friends in dark places au

pairing: none

Summary: (Junor year; about six months before Patton and Virgil meet) Patton isn’t feeling his normal, happy self anymore.

WARNINGS: depression, panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts, self doubt, feelings of worthlessness, self hatred, minor descriptions of self harm/suicide, minor descriptions of verbal violence

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: okay i’m done with reuploads, so here’s some new content!!! i apologize to everybody who has had to witness this shit

a/n 2: jsyk, it’s totally okay to ask for a modified chapter if you need it or if i need to add tags! i get it, and it’s no problem for me to quick edit a chapter or whatever :) also, feel free to send requests or questions that you have!

first of main plot - companions

consider buying me a coffee (please)

October 7, 2016

Patton couldn’t get out of bed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t physically get out of bed; he just didn’t have the mental strength to get up. He pulled his blue duvet over his eyes and aggressively punched the snooze button on his alarm clock. Another missed day of school. Whatever.

Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Shea walked into Pat’s room with a worried expression pulling at her face. This was the third time in October he hadn’t gotten up for school, and it was only the seventh day of the month.

“Hey, honey. You feeling okay?” she whispered, softly making her way to the side of his bed. Patton was laying in a tight ball under the covers, and his hair barely stuck out from underneath it.

“My stomach hurts really bad…” Lies. Everything he’d been saying recently was one giant lie. “I think I should stay home today.”

His mom sighed. “Alright. I’ll leave some soup in the fridge for you to heat up if you get hungry, but I’ve got to go to work now. Love you.”

“Love you too.” As soon as he heard the door click shut, Patton released the choked sob he’d been holding in. There was no reason for him to be so sad; he had a wonderful family, so many beautiful belongings, and the most caring friends that he could ever ask for. And yet here he was, laying in bed and feeling like the most useless piece of garbage known to man.

Tears ran across the bridge of his nose and across his cheek, sinking into his pillowcase where they leaving a growing wet patch in the fabric. Good thing the wet pillow wouldn’t bother him while he was asleep.

---

“Have you seen Patton? He wasn’t in first block,” Roman asked Logan as they sat down at their lunch table. Patton never missed school unless he physically couldn’t get out of bed, yet he had been absent so frequently as of late.

“No, and I’m starting to get worried. He’s been acting so unlike himself. I can’t help but wonder what must be going on.” Logan took a bite of his sandwich and flipped on his phone, pulling up Patton’s text conversation. “And look.”

Logan

Read October 6 at 7:15 pm

Patton, what did you get for the third problem in the chemistry packet? I want to double check my answers.

Patton

Delivered October 6 at 7:18 pm

I haven’t done it yet. I’ll check in with you after advisement tomorrow.

Logan

Read October 6 at 7:25 pm

Don’t worry about it, Patton. I’ll just ask someone else. Good night.

“I sent that first text at around seven pm, which was around the time I finished my homework after tutoring, and the second at 7:19, so right after he sent his text. He never takes that long to look at or reply to texts. Plus, he didn’t say goodnight to me. I truly am worried.” Logan pushed up his glasses, which had slipped down his nose, and looked at Roman. The usually over-the-top teen looked sullen as he mulled over the information.

“Can your mom drive us to Patton’s house after school?”

---

They arrived at Patton’s as soon as humanly possible after school. They’d explained to Mrs. Christiansen that since Patton had missed school, they were going to need a ride to his house so they could help him figure out what homework he needed to get done. Thankfully, she’d bought the lie and gave them no questions.

Roman hopped out of the minivan and practically sprinted to the door, roughly poking the doorbell. He could hear the bright ring sound through the house as Logan walked up behind him. They waited for two minutes, but nobody showed up. He rang again with slightly less aggression.

Less than a minute later, the door swung open, and a disheveled Patton stood in the doorway. His hair was sticking in practically every direction, and his rumpled pajamas made his slight frame look even more stick-like. Pat’s nose was red and puffy; his eyes looked just as irritated. The smile on his lips looked fake and didn’t meet his eyes in the slightest.

“Hey, guys! What’s up?” The cheerful ring in Patton’s voice was gone, replaced by a duller version of himself.

Act natural. They can’t know. This is your cross to bear. Not theirs.

“We wanted to come check on you since you didn’t come to school,” Logan explained, casting a worried glance at Roman. This was unsettling.

Just get them out.

“Thanks for the gesture, kiddos, but I’m all good! Just a bit of a cold, you know? Well, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” The door began to swing shut, but Roman shot out his hand to stop it.

Damn it! Try harder.

“Woah, Pat. Calm down a sec. Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Roman’s voice was laced with caution; he didn’t want to seem too interrogative.

Patton’s smile faltered for a second before coming back with even more faux brightness than ever. “It’s just the cold. Darn thing’s making my eyes water and nose run!”

Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies.

“Right…” Logan didn’t believe a word his friend was saying. “Why didn��t you come to school today? You seem well enough for your usual standards to not miss—OW!”

Roman’s heel dug hard into Logan’s toes, warning him not to overstep any boundaries.

“I was feeling really awful this morning. I could barely roll over in bed.”

“Pat, we’re just... we’re worried about you. You’re our best friend,” Roman interjected.

I’m doing fine.

“There’s no need! I’m great!”

Logan desperately cut in. “You haven’t been acting like yourself recently. Our text conversations have been curt and to the point, and you haven’t sent your trademark goodnight text in well over a week—“

“I SAID I’M FINE!” Patton yelled, finally at the end of his rope. His two friends stared at him in shock, mouths hanging open and eyes wide. Pat stood there for a moment to catch his breath before he realized what he’d just done. He sunk to the ground and roughly tugged at his hair in frustration. Tears rolled down his face, and sobs racked his body.

Suddenly, he was being lifted off the floor and carried through his house, ending up on his soft bed. Blankets wrapped around him, and soothing words were whispered as he let out all of the pent up shit that he’d stored away.

Soon enough, the tears stopped coming, and Patton’s breathing evened out to a slow rhythm. He shifted to look at Logan, who was sitting cross legged next to him, absently petting Pat’s hair.

“I don’t deserve you guys,” Pat mumbled, shying away from Logan’s touch. That snapped Lo out of his thoughts.

“What do you mean? Of course you do. If anything, Roman and I don’t deserve you.” Logan had his Mom Voice on, and it was clear that he’d be ready to fight any of Patton’s worries away.

“No, I don’t. You guys are fantastic and nice, but I’m terrible. I yelled at you. That’s not something that any good friend should do.” Patton sighed and rolled his face back into his pillow. Hopelessness travelled through his body in icy waves.

Logan made an affronted noise. “That is most certainly not true. Roman and I were pushing you past your breaking point; that was our fault. We shouldn’t have done that. You are the best friend anyone could ask for, Patton. You’re compassionate, kind, loyal, and most of all you love each of us with your entire heart.”

“I guess…” Pat trailed off into his pillow. He heard the door click open and someone, probably Roman, walk in. Logan gently kissed his hair and slid off the bed, walking to the door before softly closing it again. Outside he could faintly hear the muffled voices of his friends talking, but he couldn’t quite make out their words.

He was barely awake for another second as his emotional exhaustion caught up with him.

---

“How is he?” Roman asked once the door was closed, making sure his voice was hushed enough that Patton wouldn’t be able to hear.

“I think he’s okay…” Logan fidgeted with his hands. “But I do believe he’s depressed. He has a lot of the symptoms: pessimistic attitude, feelings of worthlessness, difficulty concentrating, weight loss. I-I’m really worried about him, Roman.”

Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he broke down. Patton was supposed to be the light of the group. He was supposed to provide comfort to them, and they’d neglected him in return. It was their fault, and they’d lost constancy in their group. Logan’s breathing sped up as he lost control of his feelings.

“Woah, Lo. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” Roman enveloped Logan in a soft hug, but he was immediately pushed away. Logan sank to the floor, pushing his back against the wall. Roman stared at him for a moment in shock before kneeling down and just barely resting his hand on Logan’s knee.

“Hey. You’re going to be alright. Just listen to my voice, okay?” Roman softly began to sing one of Logan’s favorite Pink Floyd songs until he was calm again. “That’s good, Lo. Why don’t you go take a nap in Pat’s bed while I do some research?”

Logan nodded and allowed himself to be led to the plush bed, where he almost instantly fell asleep. Roman sadly smiled at his two friends, both suffering in such different ways.

He sat down at Pat’s desk, opening the laptop and typing in the password. pattoncake2001. As much as Roman loved his friend, the kid really needed to get more secure passwords.

Google Chrome popped up once the screen had loaded. Roman’s heart dropped as he looked at the open tabs.

lasting feelings of worthlessness

symptoms of depression

how to hide depression from others

He impulsively collapsed the browser and stared at the dark background of the Spotify app before regaining his senses. Roman felt so bad for Patton; he couldn’t even begin to imagine what his friend must be going through.

As he moved to close Spotify, he caught sight of the playlists Pat had saved. Most of them were things he’d normally listen to, like X Ambassadors, but there were some playlists named “depression help” that just made Roman’s mood sink even further.

After a few more minutes of clicking around, he reopened Chrome and began to Google symptoms of depression for himself. He clicked on the first few links, finding mostly the same things, but then found a link to a Tumblr blog. Hmm. That might help.

Roman immediately regretted his decision. Graphic images of self harm and suicide flooded his screen. Panic bubbled up in his chest until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He snapped the laptop shut and pushed it away from him as if it had physically hurt him.

That was enough research for one day.

---

October 8, 2016

Everything had gotten so out of control, and Patton hadn’t been aware of any of it. During his sophomore year, he’d become really good friends with a girl in his class, Hayley Aster. She was sweet and caring and funny, and Patton enjoyed talking to her at school and on the phone. Their friendship wasn’t Logan and Roman tight, but Patton considered her one of his best friends.

But once they started their junior year, Hayley started acting... weird. And now that he thought of it, so had his other friend, Luke. And basically everyone else. It was like his entire class seemed off.

He’d been curious--of course he had been curious--but everyone seemed to be avoiding him. It was his fault, probably. Patton had started to distance himself from Logan and Roman, not wanting to upset them or bring them down as well.

And then he’d learned the truth. Not from Luke, obviously, nor Hayley. It was Kay who had told him on October first. Luke had been so obsessed with staying best friends with Hayley that he’d spread rumors about Patton to try and distance him from her. Rumor after rumor--the same fucking song, just with different words. If you didn’t like Patton Shea, you spread rumors about him until his life was ruined, apparently!

Oh, and that wasn’t all. It never was. Everyone knew who had started the rumors, but nobody had the courage to step up and tell Patton that Luke was the one to start them. They were too terrified by the idea of being Luke’s next target to do anything. They’d even managed to keep the rumors away from Roman and Logan because they were too damn self-preserving to risk the wrath of Patton’s friends.

Patton hadn’t even done anything wrong this time, yet everyone still hated him.

God, Roman and Logan were too good for him. He didn’t deserve their care. They’d sat by his side all day and night, and they’d only left just now to buy him some of his favorite candy. Patton wasn’t sure if either of them had slept at all, which was also worrying!

Patton was a burden, and he knew that, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Well, he had an idea, but he was too much of a coward to actually go through with it. That was another thing that he was--a coward. Running from his problems, too afraid to actually do what was best for everyone. They didn’t need him; he was just going to end up sad and lonely.

Suddenly exhausted, Patton curled into his blankets. At least he wasn’t too afraid to sleep.

---

Logan and Roman had picked up Mr. Christiansen’s beat up Intrepid and drove to the Meijer off Main Street. They wanted to pick up candy, of course, and some other nice things for Patton like a new pair of slippers and some good smelling candles, and it was also convenient that they needed to get some things for their respective houses. In short, they had a long list of items to buy.

Roman wheeled their cart around to the stuffed toys isle. The two browsed for a few moments before Roman pulled a specific plushie from the shelf. A tiny stuffed dog the color of the sky. It was perfectly Patton.

A few beats of soft silence followed the find before Logan spoke; his voice was barely audible over the static noise of the store. “Roman, I’m terrified for Patton. What if he doesn’t get better? What if—What if he—“ Not for the first time that day, tears streamed down his face in a cruel betrayal of his cold façade.

Roman gasped and discarded the toy he was holding in the cart, rushing to tightly hug Logan. An unsure Logan was never good. “It’ll be okay, Lo. It will. Patton’s so strong.” Roman’s voice wavered ever so slightly. If Logan wasn’t completely sure that Patton would be okay, then what would happen? Lo knew basically everything! He was their rock; always solid when they needed the support. And now even he was crumbling.

“I can’t lose him, Roman! I can’t. Oh, god, he’s supposed to be the sunshine against any darkness in the world, and look at him! I’ve never seen Patton so lost,” Logan sobbed. His body heaved as he pressed his face deep into Roman’s neck. They’d been the perfect trio for what felt like forever, yet everything threatened to fall apart in an instant.

“We’ll help him; I swear on it. We’ll be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

---

“Ohmygoodness, I love him!” Patton squealed as his friends presented the tiny plushie to him. It was adorably small, and possibly the tiniest bit under-stuffed, but Pat adored the little guy.

“What are you going to name him, lovely?” Roman inquired, pacing the room to put away some of the other items they’d gotten.

“Blue Puppy!” There was a childlike grin on Patton’s face as he lightly squished the toy.

Logan frowned. “That seems a little bit uncreative, even—Christ!” A swift jab in the ribs by Roman was enough to shut even the most idiotic brainiacs.

“That’s adorable, Pat! And does Blue Puppy have any friends that you would like to introduce?” Roman knew exactly what he was doing. Patton’s mind seemed to run on a sort of childish encouragement system when he was upset, so, logically, having him make up stories about different things that brought him comfort would help distract from the intrusive thoughts and provide nice feelings.

“Oh, uh, Logan could you grab the bucket of plushies from my closet?” Logan obliged and set the tub on the bed next to Patton. “Alright! Well, we’ve got Winnie the Pooh, of course, and Piglet. Oooh and there’s Zapper. And—oh…”

Patton cut off, pulling a light purple teddy bear from the conglomeration. It didn’t take long for Roman and Logan to figure it out. Hayley had given him that stupid fucking bear over the summer. Oh, how could Roman be so stupid as to forget about that?

“Um, I think I’m done for now. Thanks for your help, though.” Pat shoved all of the toys, excluding Blue Puppy, back into the container and lightly slid it away from him. He slipped under the covers, listening to the muted noises of his friends cleaning up. The door clicked shut, and Patton was alone.

He’d always be alone.

#sanders sides fic #m writes things #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders

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lfthinkerwrites · 5 years

Text

The Flight of Icarus

Title: Tales from Gotham Academy: Field Trip

Rating: T for more mayhem

Summary: Another ride, another misadventure. Mockridge has a come to Jesus moment with a 'business partner.'

Meanwhile, in the office of Daniel Mockridge

"They did what to the boat ride!?"

Cleo Droukas, Mockridge's assistant for the past three years, watched as her boss' face lost its smug smile and turned pale. She tried not to let on how much it amused her. "One of the teachers rammed his boat against another boat, which in turn rammed into a third boat, causing a collision against the embankment. None of the students are injured-"

"Forget the students!" Mockridge shouted. "What about the boats!?"

Cleo frowned. "The third boat was tipped over, but otherwise undamaged. The first and second boats, however, sustained damage during the collisions. They'll need to be repaired."

"And just how much is that gonna cost me!?" Mockridge yelled, running a hand through his hair. "This park's already in the red! Between operating costs and the settlements from that food poisoning case last year, I'm in the hole for $5 million! Which I could have handled, no problem, if Riddle of the Minotaur 2 hadn't bombed!" Mockridge moved his hand from his hair onto his desk, smearing paperwork with the greasy hair product. "I don't get it. Riddle of the Minotaur put Competitron on the map. It broke sales records. How did the second game do so badly? We marketed the shit out of it!"

Perhaps you shouldn't have fired and blacklisted the original game's creator, Cleo wanted to say. Instead, she waited until Mockridge had finished his whining before she continued. "The teacher who rammed the boats, Mr. Basil Karlo, has been removed from the park premises."

"They called the cops on the son of a bitch?"

"They did, but he was taken away in an ambulance. The other teachers administered their own 'justice' on him."

Mockridge's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "I always knew Nashton was a fruitcake, but what the Hell is wrong with these people?"

Cleo had heard the rumors about how badly the students and teachers behaved at the Raging Rapids Water Park the previous year. She'd tried to warn Mockridge, but he'd been too set on sticking it to Edward Nashton to listen. Now they had to all deal with the consequences. "Principal Gordon is currently speaking with park security, while the teachers and students are continuing their trip."

Mockridge looked slightly amazed. "After the boat ride, they want to stay in the park?"

Cleo shrugged. "Apparently, this isn't anywhere near the worst thing that's ever happened to them on a school trip." Which, if true, was the most disturbing thing she'd heard all day.

An oily smile returned to Mockridge's face. "We may just be able to salvage this day yet! What about Wayne? Is he still happy?"

It took everything Cleo had not to smirk. "He was in the boat that was overturned."

Mockridge's face paled again. "God damn it! He's already pissed at me for that crack I made about his girlfriend! I was hoping to convince him to invest in Competitron!"

That was looking about as likely Mockridge himself admitting that Edward Nashton was the reason Competitron had been as viable as it was. Before she could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. "Yes?" Cleo called.

Mockride's secretary poked his head in. "Sir? Mr. Sionis is on Line One."

All the remaining color drained from Mockridge's face. "Oh shit. Tell him I'm in a meeting!"

The secretary shuffled. "He's being very insistent sir. He threatened to staple my lips shut if I didn't put him on the phone with you."

Mockridge sank in his chair. "Oh, Christ...fine. Put him through." As soon as the door shut, Mockridge pushed a button on his phone. After how badly Riddle of the Minotaur 2 had sold, Mockridge had needed to seek external funding to keep Competitron's losses manageable. Unfortunately, Mockridge had about as much sense in seeking out loans as he was in keeping talent, and he'd wound up in the debt of Roman Sionis, industrial magnate and rumored mobster. "Roman!" Mockridge said jovially. "I was just about to call you! How have you been?"

"Sure you were," Sionis spoke, his voice rumbling over the speakerphone. Oh good. He was pissed. "I checked my account this morning and lo and behold, I didn't see your monthly contribution. Where's my money, Mockridge?"

Cleo watched Mockridge gulp and somehow kept the satisfaction off her face. "Ah well...It's going to be a bit late this month, Roman. I had other obligations to take care of." Said other obligations included child support, gambling debts, payouts to several young ladies under his employ, and a new yacht.

Cleo could just make out the sound of a sharp intake of breath. Then Sionis spoke again. "Perhaps my last request was too mired in subtlety. I want my money, or you're dead. When I say dead, I mean dead. Beaten, broken, YOUR HEAD MOUNTED ON MY WALL KIND OF DEAD!!!"

Mockridge began to sweat, babble excuses and Cleo took that as her cue to leave. She shut the door behind her and finally let out the small laugh she'd been holding in. Then her thoughts turned to the Gotham Academy group. Hopefully, the boat ride would be the extent of their shenanigans for the day.

"We're going to the Library of Alexandria and that's final!"

"Like Hell, we are, Nashton! The kids want rides, we're going on rides!"

"Right, Harv, because the last time we were on a ride, it worked out so well! We're going to a place with books!"

"You can go to a place with books if you want Nashton, I'll take the kids to the rides."

"You're not going anywhere with my little girl without me!"

Jonathan and Jervis looked on at their friend and co-worker's argument and then gave each other a long-suffering look. After seeing Karlo off, Gordon, Wayne, Neil, Miguel, and Victor had been quick to split off into different sections of the park, leaving the four of them in the main hub to argue over which way to go. "We could just leave them, you know," Jonathan whispered to Jervis.

Jervis shook his head. "No we can't, March Hare. You know as well as I do that Harvey will kill Dormouse if left unsupervised."

Jonathan looked back to Harvey and Edward. Harvey's hands were balled up into fists and his face was turning magenta. "Harv looks ready to strangle him now." The students themselves watched the argument with the kind of indifference that came from witnessing this happen several times. Not even Ellen and Duela seemed that concerned.

"Which is why we need to intervene," Jervis insisted. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Now see here chaps-"

"If you don't get out of my face in the next two seconds Nashton, I'll make sure that Ellen stays your only child!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes, then stepped in to help Jervis corral the two men. "Knock it off the both of you," he scolded. "You're actin' worse than the actual children." Harvey and Edward turned to glare at Jonathan, then back at each other. Edward looked ready to say something smart when Jonathan interrupted. "Harv, don't you have that coin? Just flip on it."

Harvey smirked and pulled said coin out of his pocket. What he and Jonathan knew but Edward didn't, was that the coin was double-sided. "Alright, Nashton. Heads we go to the rides, tails we go to the Library of Alexandria. Agreed?"

Edward crossed his arms. "Fine. Flip it." Harvey did so and caught it with his left hand, flipping it over onto his right palm. When Edward saw the result, he scowled. "Flip it again!"

"For God's sake!" Jonathan shouted. "Edward, stop acting like a damn toddler and come on already!"

Edward sneered and opened his mouth, only for Ellen to interrupt. "I've got Penny in my contacts," she said in a sing-song tone. "And I'm not afraid to call her..." Edward paled, then sighed.

"Fine. Fine. We'll go rot our brains on the rides. But when disaster strikes, I will be the first to say I told you so!"

"Welcome to the Flight of Icarus! Please observe all posted rules. You must be at least 64 inches tall to ride, follow instructions at all times, one adult must be with a group of kids..."

While the ride attendant droned on, Edward, Jonathan, Jervis, and Harvey took in the ride with a growing sense of horror. The Flight of Icarus was a modified swing ride. Only, instead of seats hanging down from the top of the carousel, there were harnesses. The riders would strap themselves in, lie on their stomachs, and put large canvass wings on their arms. The idea was to simulate flight, like the mythological character of Icarus. It looked even more dangerous than the boat ride. When the ride attendant finished his spiel, the four men looked at each other. "So," Jonathan drawled. "Who's going first?"

"Not me," Edward said immediately. "I'm a father."

"So am I," Harvey said gruffly. "And Duela, there is no way in Hell you're riding that thing."

"I don't want to," Duela quickly agreed. "That thing looks like a death trap."

"I kind of want to go on it," Ellen added. Then her face fell. "But I'm too short to ride."

"Good," Edward said.

"I'm too short as well," Jervis said. "So I suppose that leaves you, March Hare."

Jonathan sighed. "Well, I have no fear of death. Might as well." He and the six kids who actually wanted to go on the ride stepped through the gate, and let themselves be strapped in. When Jonathan's wings were placed on him, he heard Edward chuckle from the other side of the gate.

"You're living up to your name now, Jonathan Crane," he smirked. "When you're airborne you'll look positively majestic."

"I will hurt you," Jonathan said crossly. Once the last child was strapped in, the ride attendant stepped back to the control panel and powered the ride on. The carousel's tower rose slowly as the chains began to move and spin the riders around. At first, it was slow, but it quickly picked up speed. The teachers and the students on the ground were colorful blurs to Jonathan as the ride spun him around, faster and faster. Luckily, in addition to feeling no fear, he felt no nausea. Frankly, it was almost fun.

Unfortunately, while the designers of the ride had accounted for height and maximum weight, no one ever thought to consider a minimum weight for the ride. Jonathan was so light and thin in build that he wasn't securely harnessed. On the thirteenth rotation of the carousel, he slipped out of his harness and was vaulted through the air. "Jesus Chriiiiist!" he screamed as he flew 50 feet above the ground.

"March Hare!" Jervis screeched, running after his friend. Edward and Harvey followed in close pursuit, trailed by Ellen, Duela, and a few other kids. The rest stayed put to film the scene, of course.

"Jon!" Edward shouted as Jonathan began to dip down. "Flap your arms! Try to fly!" Jonathan did so, and remarkably, managed to pick himself up. "We should be close to the main hub," Edward mused as the group followed Jonathan, who was now gliding at a steady pace. "Jon! When we get to the plaza, you should be able to glide into the fountain!"

"The fountain!?" Jonathan shouted. "After the boat ride!?"

"Well it's that or you can impale yourself on a tree!"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Harvey muttered. "Mockridge has one Hell of a lawsuit coming his way."

The small group followed Jonathan into the plaza, where they caught the attention of not only other parkgoers, who were pointing and gasping at the sight of Jonathan gliding through the air. Unfortunately, they also attracted the attention of Maxie Zeus, who took Jonathan's appearance very differently. "A fury!" he bellowed. "Back, fury! Back to the depths of Tartarus with you!" He gripped onto the base of his lightning bolt, which, while not a real lightning bolt, served very well as a javelin. He threw the bolt at Jonathan and his aim was true, the bolt puncturing one of the canvass wings.

"Son of a biiiiiiitch!" Jonathan screamed as he plummeted to Earth, disappearing in the tree line that surrounded the main entrance to the park.

Jervis collapsed onto his knees. "March Hare! Jonathan! No!" He began to wail and sob.

"Dad?" Duela asked, for once almost shaken. "Is Mr. Crane dead?"

"I'm sure he's not," Harvey comforted her. He gave Edward a short nod. "You and Tetch better go look for Crane. I'll take care of the kids."

Edward didn't look happy at the prospect of leaving his daughter, but he liked the idea of her tagging along to find Jonathan's possible corpse even less. "Alright. Ellen, behave yourself. I'll be back with Uncle Jon in a few minutes." He stepped forward and began dragging a still weeping Jervis towards the tree line. "Come on, Jervis. We have a March Hare to find."

In an hour, he would regret letting his daughter out of his sight.

#tales from gotham academy #high school teacher au #fly jonny fly

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typingoverworld · 5 years

Text

McGregor

Today, she was going to see the McGregor. Alice McGregor had not been home to see her father since her brother’s death seven years before. Her fingers flexed in rhythm with the churning of her stomach. She could feel the sweat forming and furrowed her forehead to keep the drops from falling into her eyes. Forcing her fingers to grip the steering wheel to stop their movement, Alice settled back into the tan leather seat of her brand new Cadillac Crossover and focused on the highway again.

Her father would not approve of a car known for its luxury rather than its usefulness. She had known since she was a small child that her wants far exceeded what her father believed necessary. While her childhood friends received presents of dress-up Barbies and Kens, she was given books to read. For the McGregor, fun was impossible without a sense of accomplishment to go with it. Alice realized she was gripping the steering wheel so hard that her left-hand ring finger had gone numb. Her engagement ring was a little too tight for her finger, but the jewelry was worth enough that she would rather have it tight than worry about losing it.

A few moments later, Alice exited the highway and pulled over into the parking lot of a neighborhood gas station. With a sigh, she wiggled the ring off of her finger and placed it in the zippered pouch of her clutch purse. She had not told her father about Montgomery yet. The McGregor would not approve of an arranged marriage—arranged by the affianced but arranged none the less. There was no love in her engagement—only convenience and common interest. She wanted to be a politician’s wife, and Montgomery wanted a dignified companion at his side for the pictures.

Alice pulled back onto the road. Her finger still felt the ring pressed against it—like the phantom sensation of a lost limb. She felt wrong and lonely not wearing it, but she knew it would be best to speak with her father about Montgomery before revealing her engagement. Her father was the old fashioned kind of man who would expect to be asked for her hand in marriage. Montgomery would be coming down in a few days to do just that; she did not want to start out her married life with her father condemning her husband.

Alice made the final turn in her journey from Cambridge to Boston. She could see the brick exterior of McGregor’s Bar and Grille down the street on the right side. Lunchtime had called enough patrons to force her to park a good block away from the entrance. She had dressed rather plainly for this meeting in a pair of blue jeans and a soft, white button-up blouse. Alice could imagine her father’s reaction if she had shown up in one of the sophisticated outfits Montgomery had bought for her. The McGregor was never a man who appreciated pomp.

Stepping out of the car and onto the concrete of the road, Alice adjusted her ponytail and shut the door. Her movements quickly fell into a languid rhythm; she wanted to stretch out these moments. Car noises gradually blended into the sound of classic rock as she got closer to the double oak doors of the bar. Closer to her father.

Her white tennis shoes started stepping in time to the up-tempo beat, and she paused for a moment in front of the doors to take a deep, calming breath. She had always thought the colored glass panes a bit out of place on the doors of the bar, but she admired the bright blues and greens of their diamond shapes anyway. Exhaling, Alice placed her left hand upon the brass handle and pulled it open, feeling the cool, scaled design press against her sweating hands.

She stepped into the dim interior, and the song’s finale hit her ears with force. Her shoes sank into the plush red rug marking the entryway, and Alice took a moment to study McGregor’s. She had expected some grand changes to have taken place, but almost nothing was different. She recognized some of the regulars—they had a few more wrinkles but were otherwise unaltered. There were new people scattered throughout, but they could just be passing through.

The same landscapes of the Irish countryside hung on the walls in the same places. The wall sconces still cast barely enough light to see. Her family portrait stood as before on the top shelf of the bar—her younger self seated in front of her parents. As she moved further into the interior, Alice could see that some things were distinctly modified. The old wooden chairs had been replaced with a padded, newer version and the less reputable tables were supplanted by a more modern style. The fact that all the tables were not matched made the alterations less distinct than they would have been if she had come in to the find everything replaced. The McGregor saw no reason to fix something that was not broken so the furniture had never been perfectly coordinated.

* * *

At 8pm on Thursday night, Alice stepped out of the slightly orange cab onto the sidewalk in front of McGregor’s Bar and Grille. Her black leather heels clicked against the sidewalk as she made her way to the entrance. She pulled the large door open and her heel’s next landing settled on the plush red rug in the entryway.

Alice let the door slip closed behind her and walked towards the office door in the back of the crowded bar. Her heels clicked sharply on the black floor tiles, and the rapid beat drew the eyes of the mostly male crowd. She knew what they would see: a slightly plump young woman in her mid-to-late twenties. Blond hair laced with light brown highlights, eyes a little too big for her face, a sharp nose, and a mouth plump enough to match her figure. Her black business suit with its pink silk undershirt was aimed at a display of feminine power.

She did not feel powerful. Alice forced her shoulders back and her head high, ignoring the impulse of her body to curl in upon itself. She had to be strong or risk being pitied. When she passed the bartender, Alice nodded in lieu of a hello, never slowing her pace. It took less than fifteen seconds to cross the expanse of the bar and lock the office door behind her—and three minutes before her body stopped shaking.

She settled into the guest chair in front of the desk, carefully avoiding the sight of her father’s empty chair on the other side. It all belonged to her now. She was the only one left. Alice pulled her feet up to rest on the front of the chair and lowered her head upon her knees.

She had only been out of the hospital for two days. Her doctor had released her earlier than he thought appropriate because she had told him she would walk out whether or not he gave her permission. Alice had never been particularly close to her family, but she refused to miss out on their final event.

Gone. All gone. And I am all that’s left.

Her eyes began to burn within their sockets, and she struggled to release the breath she couldn’t quite finish drawing in. Focusing on her breathing, Alice regained a more natural composure and sat up. This control lasted only a few more moments before she swung her feet onto the desk, pushed her butt towards the edge of the seat and rested her head against the chair back.

This slightly uncomfortable upholstered wooden chair was hers—not the large brown executive chair on the other side of the desk. She wanted to give it back. She wanted to tell her father she wasn’t ready for this. She wanted to hug her mother and listen to the words “it’s all right” being whispered into her ear. But she could not. Her parents had been settled into their graves at 2pm yesterday, and Alice would never hear anything again. The accident which had claimed the lives of her parents had claimed her hearing.

She wondered if it was some kind of punishment. Sunday was the first time she had seen her parents in seven years. If she had never come up to see them, they would not have driven to the Fourth of July fireworks display on the edge of town. If the eight year old boy had been watched more carefully by his parents, he would probably still be alive too. Lit fireworks placed on the trunk of her parent’s car and nowhere for the little boy to run.

Alice assumed she should feel guilty for their deaths—that seemed to be what every storyline said—but the sharpest prick to her heart was the loss of her life. She had a responsibility to McGregor’s now. The red brick one-story bar had stood in downtown Boston for 83 years now, and her life in Cambridge had barely seen eight.

Montgomery would be here tomorrow. Alice’s chest contracted painfully. She had yet to tell him she was ripping their life apart. The doctors had notified him of the accident on Sunday before they realized the full extent of her injuries. She had only communicated with him through text since she awoke in the hospital bed. She had never liked talking on the phone and therefore believed her lack of verbal communication had not caused an alarm.

She could not stop imagining the varied expressions of disgust which would cross his face when he realized she was deaf. Or the relief when she informed him she would be staying in Boston to run the family business. He would not have to stay engaged to someone with such a noticeable handicap. And Alice, she would stay here alone with only the memory of his voice to comfort her.

To her right, the office door began to shake, jolting Alice out of her reverie. She had been speculating for over an hour. The clock on the wall beside the door read 9:12 when the solid oak panel swung into the room to rest against the arm of her chair. The bartender, Ted, stepped inside her sanctuary. She watched as he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he remembered her injury. His tan cheeks took on a slightly pink tinge as he stepped to the desk. Ted quickly found a pen and a pad of paper. She watched his long tanned fingers as they alternated between writing rapidly and stretching out the cramps caused by the furious motion.

She had met him for the first time at her parent’s funeral yesterday, but Dr. Forrester had told her that Ted came by to see her when she was still unconscious. She knew he had come to see her parents and taken the sight of her as a consolation prize, but it still cast an almost comical angelic light on such a rugged man. Alice spent a few amused seconds searching for his hidden halo before she was interrupted by the writing pad he extended to her.

Glancing down at the contents, Alice was taken aback to see that only one line of text was visible—the rest had been extensively crossed out. It read only: “What can I do for you?” She had assumed he was coming in with a business related question.

Ted closed the office door and knelt down beside the chair, placing his hand on top of her lower arm. Alice could feel the heat transferring from his body to hers. It made her comfortable in such a way that she involuntarily closed her eyes and sighed with contentment. Doctors and corpses had cold hands. It was good to feel something which radiated human warmth.

She expected him to pull away or attempt to communicate with her again, but he simply stayed there, reassuring her with his presence. Alice knew she should feel a little embarrassed about taking comfort from a virtual stranger, but she was too relaxed right now to care. Tomorrow seemed further off than it had a right to be. She had never been one to put off hard things so the idea of waiting another day to end her relationship with Montgomery made her foot tap impatiently.

When Ted suddenly released her and moved away, Alice opened her eyes and sat up. She turned towards him and opened her mouth to speak before she remembered that she no longer had a way to ascertain that she said the right thing or used the right tone of voice. Instead of risking the possibility of making a fool of herself, she grabbed the closest pen off of the desk and scribbled a quick note: “thank you.”

She saw him mouth a “you’re welcome” before he reached for the pad to write it down. She waved him off and wrote, “It’s time for us to get to work. ‘A business has to have love, and loves takes time, patience, and effort.’”

Ted grinned when he read her quote. It had been her father’s favorite saying. Ian McGregor had loved McGregor’s with time, patience, and effort. It would be insulting to her family name to put any less love into the bar than her father had given. Alice could see her father sitting across from her over twenty years ago when she first remembered him telling her his philosophy. She knew he had done the same with every new employee. Although she had only been five years old at the time, McGregor’s saying had struck a chord within her.

It is too late to show my father I am loyal to our family tradition, but I will show anyone else who cared enough to doubt it.

The motion of the door swinging open again startled her out of her reverie. She expected one of the waitresses, but instead saw Montgomery. His lean six foot two frame filled up the narrow doorway as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

I’m not ready for this. I thought I was, but I’m not.

Montgomery’s almost girlishly plump lips were moving rapidly and the concerned expression on his face gradually settled into discomfort when her expression did not change and she remained seated. She could imagine the thoughts running through his head right now and wanted to reassure him, but she felt paralyzed. How could she tell him something so monumentally life changing? How could she show him she did not expect him to maintain a long distance relationship with a deaf woman? How could she deal with the pain of losing a man who had been the knife by which she had carved out her life for the past few years?

She did not have to. Before Montgomery’s lips had even stopped moving, Ted laid his hand upon the man’s shoulder and slowly mouthed the words she was unable to say. Alice could not hear what was being said, but she could guess. She wished she did not have to watch the blood draining from Montgomery’s face or see the condemnation in his eyes. As she had expected, Montgomery made a quick exit. No need to provide a goodbye.

Alice clutched at her chest and clenched her eyes shut. When she opened them, she saw Ted’s eyes transition from wide and round to narrow, and she barely had time to register his intent before he sped out of the door. Jumping out of her seat, Alice chased him down. She had known for years that her impending marriage was one of convenience rather than love. Its loss was not worth the anger Ted was displaying.

Alice managed to grab his arm right before he reached the double doors marking McGregor’s entrance. When he turned around to look at her, she simply shook her head slowly. Montgomery always traveled with his own car so he would be long gone anyway. It was a wasted effort to think he might be dissuaded from his opinion. Her time, patience, and effort would go into loving this bar. It would take the place of the important things she had lost—never thinking they were something she would lose so soon.

Alice locked her arm around Ted’s and escorted him back to the office. They had work to do.

Alysha @ TypingOverWorld

#shortStory #originalwriting #writeblr #writblr #writeblrs #write #writing #creativeWriting #fiction #original writing #creative writing #writer #writers #creativewriter #creative writer

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