#we just finished act 2 today and my mom's jaw hit the floor when act 3 started lmao it ruled

[256gb]

i've been playing through the entirety of inscryption with my parents this holiday break and it makes me so happy to see their minds blown at every little plot twist

[missperfectlyfine13]

A Bandaid For Your Bullet Hole (4/?)

Read below or on AO3

December 1997

“Come here ladybug,” Richard Beale grabs little 7 year old Chloe’s mitten covered hand as they stomp through the fresh, sparkling and very deep snow.

Chloe watches with wide eyes as her brother Jake plows through the snow, red round saucer sled in hand. It’s Chloe’s first time seeing the fluffy white precipitation. They are in Minnesota visiting her grandma and grandpa for Christmas. The moment she had looked out the window this morning her jaw had dropped to the floor. Her dad had promptly dressed her and her brother in snowsuits and boots and pulled the old sleds down from the rafters of the garage.

“Dad! Chloe! Hurry up!” Jake runs quicker towards the hill, his boots kicking up little puffs of snow.

“We’ll catch up Jake, you can go to the hill,” Richard calls to his eager 12 year old son.

When Chloe and her dad finally reach the top of the hill, Jake has already flown down the hill twice. He’s stomping up the hill when Chloe is just getting her sled situated at the top of the incline.

“Daddy…I’m scared,” the little red head girl looks up at her dad, eyes wide.

He smiles warmly at his daughter and sits down on the back of the sled, patting the space between his legs, “We’ll go down together.”

When Jake had went down the hill the first time, Chloe had watched in excitement and anticipation. She could hardly wait to go down the hill herself, but now that she’s at the top…the bottom seems so far away.

Chloe tentatively sits down at the front of the sled, grabbing the rope tightly.

“Ready Chloe?” her dad asks.

Chloe nods and before she knows it they are flying down the steep hill. The wind whips her face and snow flies up all around them. She lets out a happy squeal, this has to be the best thing she’s ever done. They finally reach the end of the hill and the sled promptly lodges into the deep snow, stopping them dead in their tracks. Chloe practically launches from the front but she couldn’t care less.

“Let’s do it again!” Chloe screams, jumping up from the little sled.

Her dad’s smile is so wide, and he stands up grabbing the sled from the snow, “As many times as you want ladybug.”

************

December 2012

Chloe stands at the top of one of the most intimidating sledding hills she’s ever seen, no less scared than her first time sledding when she was 7…maybe more scared.

Beca looks at her reassuringly, “It’s going to be fun, trust me Chlo.”  

“I feel like this isn’t even remotely safe,” Chloe mutters as she watches a child flying down the slope on an innertube, he looks like he has to be going at least going 50 mph.

“That’s what makes it fun!” Beca laughs, throwing their double innertube down on the smooth, packed down snow, “You want the back or the front?”

“Uh, the back is fine,” Chloe says shakily, crouching down to take her place.

Beca settles in the round dip in the front, nestled tightly between Chloe’s legs. For a moment Chloe forgets that she’s about to go down death mountain, too caught up in the smell of Beca’s fruity shampoo and the way the brunette feels so good leaned up against her. She suddenly feels calm, all nerves dissipated.

“Let’s do this!” Beca screeches, pushing them off with her hand.

Suddenly they are rocketing downwards, the landscape around them a complete blur. Little bits of snow and ice blow up around them as they ride. Chloe lets out a little scream of excitement as they reach their peak speed. Sooner than she’d like, they are at the bottom of the hill. Chloe can still feel the adrenaline pumping though her.

They both hop off the innertube and Beca looks at her expectantly, “So?”

“That was aca-awesome!” Chloe exclaims, eager to go to the top and back down again.

Beca smirks knowingly, “I knew you’d love it.”

************

“I’ve had a really good time today,” Chloe smiles at Beca across the little table.

Beca lowers her white Starbucks cup from her mouth and grins, “Good, I’m glad.”

After they went sledding, they went into the city to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. Chloe didn’t really need to buy anything; she’d already gotten gifts for Aubrey and her brother. She didn’t have a present for Beca though, and luckily the brunette had snuck away for a half an hour, claiming she had a special mission she needed to complete. It gave Chloe the chance to pick something up for her best friend. She really wasn’t sure what to get Beca, she just hopes the other girl likes her gift.

“I don’t think I can say thank you enough times for inviting me here, it means a lot,” Chloe says genuinely.

Beca’s family has made her feel so welcome and shown her so much compassion. She hasn’t felt this happy at Christmas since before her dad died.

“I’m glad you’re here, it’s no problem. You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Beca replies sweetly, looking down at the table intently, her finger tracing the swirls of the wood.

After a few minutes Chloe decides to break the comfortable silence with a question she’s been dying ask, “So do you and your brother ever spend Christmas with your dad?”

Beca shakes her head no, “My dad gets us on Thanksgiving, my mom gets us for Christmas. My mom had insisted that’s how it goes, my dad wasn’t too happy but I’m glad that’s how it is. As you know I’m not my stepmom’s biggest fan…”

“What don’t you like about her?” Chloe knows she’s treading a thin line, Beca doesn’t like to share too much, she knows it’s hard for her, but she’d love to know.

After all that Chloe has shared, she just wants to know Beca that well too.

She can tell Beca is formulating a response, her thumbs twiddling nervously, “Ugh, I don’t know…she just isn’t very nice. When me and my brother are around, she just acts like we are a nuisance. Um, but I guess what really gets me is that she isn’t the biggest fan of…who I am.”

Chloe nods knowingly, “Ah, like because you’re bisexual?”

Beca frowns before shaking her head yes, “I brought my girlfriend to my dad’s one summer and let’s just say she had some choice words for us, about how wrong we were. My dad keeps her under control as best as he can, but she doesn’t like to hold back…I don’t know how he stays with her.”

Chloe feels unbelievably sad for the other girl. Even though her mom is a train wreck, she always accepted Chloe for who she is. No one in her family has a problem with who she loves. She just wishes it could be that way for everyone.

“I’m sorry Bec, that’s got to be really hard.”

Beca shrugs, “It’s ok, I’ve learned to just deal with it. She’s been a lot better since I started dating Jesse, except for her snide little comments about being so grateful that I’m straight now…”

Chloe feels her stomach boil with a mixture of anger at Beca’s stepmom and jealousy at the mention of Jesse, but she quickly shakes it off, “That’s really shitty of her, being with Jesse doesn’t change who you are.”

“If only she would see it that way,” Beca rolls her eyes, “at least my mom and stepdad have always been ok with everything.”

“I just wish that no one had to deal with people like your stepmom, it just makes me sad, my mom has never cared about me liking girls, I’m sure my dad wouldn’t either if he were around,” Chloe shakes her head.

“I’m glad you understand this stuff, I’ve never had friends that could relate to me like this,” Beca confesses quietly.

The statement makes Chloe beam, “I’m glad I have you too.”

************

Chloe flies forward, her heart racing. She tries to catch her breath, but it’s so hard, she hasn’t had a nightmare like that in a long time. Luckily, she didn’t seem to wake up Beca, who is still snoring, sleeping soundly next to her.

It’s the same nightmare every time, it’s always her mom, lying on the sofa limply, a horrific reenactment of what she walked in on 3 years ago. They always seem to happen again around Christmas, for obvious reason.

Chloe slides around, letting her feet hit the cold hardwood flooring. She needs some water. When she gets down to the kitchen, she’s surprised to see she’s not the only person there. Beca’s mom is sitting at the island countertop, Christmas cookie in hand, fluffy robe on and hair tied in a knot on the top of her head.

“Chloe,” the older woman’s eyes flit upwards as Chloe enters the kitchen, “you’re still up?”

“I just needed some water,” Chloe grabs a glass from the cupboard, “what are you doing up still?”

She looks over at the clock on the stove, it’s nearly 2 in the morning.

“Ethan couldn’t sleep, he insisted on sleeping in my bed. I finally got him down, but I worked up a little appetite,” Beca’s mom grins, waving the little gingerbread man in the air.

Chloe fills her glass with water and takes a few large gulps. She’s finally stopped shaking from her nightmare, she hopes she didn’t look too frazzled when she walked in.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on with you and Beca?” the older woman asks so nonchalantly, but it practically makes Chloe choke.

“Nothing…I mean we’re friends, good friends,” Chloe rambles, trying not to freak.

“Ok, if you say so,” she smirks, “but I see how you two look at each other.”

“What?” Chloe can’t help the knee jerk reaction, “Beca doesn’t like me…”

“I know what it looks like when my daughter likes someone, she may be with that guy, but she feels something for you, I just know it.”

Her words swirl around in Chloe’s head viciously, her stomach fluttering. She can’t be right, Beca likes Jesse. Though the little glimmer of hope has her heart ablaze.

“Really?” Chloe asks in disbelief.

The older woman nods, “Something about that look on your face tells me you might like her too…”

Chloe can’t help the rosy blush that spreads across her face.

“Wait for her Chloe, she’ll come around,” she pops the last bit of cookie into her mouth before hopping off the stool and back towards the stairs.

Chloe finishes her glass of water and heads back upstairs. She’s not sure how long she lies there before she falls asleep, she just can’t shut her mind off. The idea of Beca liking her back is just too much…

************

Beca and Chloe lounge on the plush sofa in the living room, stomachs full from their Christmas dinner. She can still hear the majority of Beca’s family laughing and chatting in the large dining room. The two had snuck away after their plates were clear to get a good spot to sit. The large home is filled to the brim with family. It’s so warm, happy and rather exciting. This Christmas has been a dream, it’s sad to think it’s almost over.

“Hey,” Beca pokes her in the arm.

Chloe turns to look at her, “What?”

“Follow me,” Beca manages to push herself off the sofa.

Chloe is surprised she can follow suit with how full she feels, “Where are we going?”

“I just want to give you something,” Beca leads them to the back of the house, near the patio doors leading out to the backyard, which is covered in snow and warm lights.

They stop right at the doors, seemingly far away from all of the commotion. Although she can still faintly hear Beca’s Uncle Jerry bellowing loudly, he kind of reminds her of Santa.

Beca pulls a small, neatly wrapped box from her pocket, the little silver bow isn’t even crushed, despite being in Beca’s pocket seemingly all day, “Merry Christmas Chloe.”

Chloe gladly accepts the box with a smile on her face, “Bec, you didn’t have to.”

“Hey, everyone should have something to open on Christmas,” Beca shrugs her shoulders.

Chloe quickly pulls the wrapping away to reveal a small red jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace, a dainty ladybug charm hanging from the chain. She gasps at the thoughtful gift.

“Oh my god, Beca, I love it,” she says in awe, pulling it from the box, “how did you know?”

“You’ve got that tattoo on your wrist, I thought you must just really love them,” Beca replies quietly, “I honestly was just hoping it wasn’t stupid.”

“It isn’t stupid, it’s amazing…I have that tattoo because ladybug is what my dad used to call me,” Chloe clasps the necklace on, running her fingers over it, “this means so much.”

“Oh wow, guess it was a good choice then,” the brunette smiles wildly, clearly happy with the effect her gift had.

“I have something for you too, but I have to go get it,” Chloe chose to wear a dress and doesn’t have the novelty of pockets, like Beca did.

Chloe hurries up to Beca’s room and grabs the slim box from her bag. She practically sprints back downstairs to where Beca is still patiently waiting. Chloe extends the little box out to her best friend, who eagerly takes it from her.

Beca rips the wrapping off, excited to get into the gift, she gasps when she pulls out a little white box, containing a brand new iPod, the surprised look on the brunette’s face is priceless, “Chloe this is great!”

“I noticed yours is kind of old and beat up and I know how much you love music.”

“This had to cost a fortune…you shouldn’t have,” Beca is still grinning from ear to ear, but she sounds concerned.

Chloe shakes her head, “It wasn’t that bad, don’t worry about it, just enjoy it.”

“I will, thank you Chlo,” Beca replies quietly.

Chloe’s eyes drift out the door, a light snow is falling. If Chloe is being quite honest, she hasn’t had her fill of it yet. She wants nothing more than to go outside and soak up the gentle precipitation.

Beca follows her gaze and grins, “You wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yes,” Chloe answers a little too excitedly, earning a chuckle from Beca.

The two grab their coats and quietly slip out into the dark backyard. The only light illuminating the large yard is the soft, colored Christmas lights hanging from the pine trees.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a very long time,” Chloe genuinely confesses.

“I’m glad you accepted my offer to come then,” Beca stuffs her hands into her pockets, it’s a little colder than she had assumed, “you deserve to have a good Christmas, even if it can’t be with your family.”

“The Bellas are my family, you’re my family,” Chloe blurts out, maybe a little too forcefully, “so I am with my family today.”

“I kind of wish the rest of them were here…isn’t that a little crazy?” Beca asks almost in disbelief, like she can’t comprehend that those girls mean that much to her.  

Chloe shakes her head no, “Of course not, it would be nice.”

Although Chloe selfishly is glad that it’s just her and Beca. All this time alone with the younger girl has been amazing…and probably isn’t doing anything to help Chloe’s raging toner for her.

“It’s pretty cold out here, want to go back inside?” Beca motions to the patio door.

Chloe nods, it is really cold, “Yea let’s go.”

The two stop in the entry way to hang their coats on the hall tree. Beca’s baby brother Ethan is sitting on the floor, rolling around a brand-new fire truck. His eyes bounce up to the older girls and he smiles a toothy grin at the two.

“Kiss! You hafta kiss now!” he giggles pointing at his half-sister and her best friend.

Beca’s cheeks turn 20 different shades of red and Chloe feels a chill run down her spine, what is this kid talking about?

The babbling 4-year-old points at the ceiling above them, where a strategically placed bundle of mistletoe has been hung. The little boy has been hanging out in the hallway all day waiting for his next victims, after his mom had explained what the decoration meant.

Recognition flashes across the brunette’s face when she looks up.

“We can’t ignore tradition Bec,” Chloe says cheekily, knowing that she’s pushing the boundaries.

To her surprised Beca shrugs in agreement, “You’re right.”

Chloe’s heart beats wildly as Beca starts to lean in, but to her immense disappointment, Beca goes past her lips and plants a soft kiss on her rosy cheek. Even though she would have preferred a kiss on the lips…her cheek still burns where Beca’s lips landed. The act did nothing to calm her racing heart.

Chloe leans over and returns the favor, letting her lips linger maybe a bit too long on the soft skin of the younger girl’s face, “Merry Christmas Beca.”

When she pulls away, Beca is blushing slightly, but she quickly plays it off, “Merry Christmas Chloe.”

The two barely notice Ethan, who is clapping loudly and squealing excitedly that he got two people to actually play along. What no one sees though, is Beca’s mom who is watching from down the hall, with a cheeky, knowing grin spread across her face…

[darknessisafriend]

Please don’t leave me

@wtfanny requested Hiiii you are such a great writer!! Could you please do one where Arthur and Reader have a heated argument and Arthur is in is Joker persona so he acts like the asshole he can be sometimes and they break up. Back to himself Arthur the sweet boy, goes after her. Some angst, fluff and smut if you feel like it, thankkk youuuuuuuuuu :)

Thank you so much for your request I hope you’ll like it ^^

Please don’t leave me

You had been pacing back and forth the whole night, drinking cups of coffees to keep you awake. He was supposed to be back a long time ago, you had no way to contact him; so you kept the TV on in case they would be talking about him but nothing. At some point you curved into a ball in the sofa, wrapped in one of Arthur’s cardigan, crying; out of emotional exhaustion you started to doze off, struggling not to fall asleep, until you finally heard the familiar click of the door lock, you jumped out of the sofa, all exhaustion gone.

As your eyes landed on him, you realized he wasn’t hurt or anything, why was he so late then? what he just took a little trip through the city while you were dead worried for him!?

“Arthur where were you!? I was dead worried for you!” you scolded, resisting the need to hug him you crossed your arms over your chest, it was 5am now, you thought something bad had happened to him.  

“Calm down, I’m here, now am I?” he replied annoyed, making a calming gesture with his hands. You frowned, that’s all he had to say!?

“What?! No that’s not what we agreed for, you promised me you’d always be back before 2am…”

“Well, if I wanted a mom, I wouldn’t have killed her!” he cut you off harshly, he was he being such a dick today!? You wondered starting to get really angry.

“I was worried for you Arthur! I waited for you all night! I thought that you got arrested or even killed!” you replied furiously; he chuckled, taking a cigarette.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not stupid…” he muttered almost mockingly lightning his cigarette.

“That’s all you have to say? Arthur you told me you’d be back ! we’re supposed to have some time together! I miss you…” you pleaded, sad that he didn’t his promise.

“Just shut it ok!? I didn’t come back here to hear you complain!” he shouted at you not letting you finish your sentence. Your mouth opened, shocked by his attitude towards you.

“Yeah cause you’re just coming back to have someone taking care of you, wait…or is it just to fuck when YOU decide it!” you yelled on the same tone, there was few seconds of silence.

“Maybe…” he confessed in a low voice, finally making eye contact with you. You blink away tears that threaten to come out, you didn’t mean what you said, you had wanted him to finally react or even apologize but no had agreed.

“Then, there’s no reason for me to stay here.” You don’t want to listen to him anymore, you walk away taking your backpack, to pack up your things.

“Leave I don’t care I can have all the girls I want.” You clenched your jaw, no you will not reply to this; you take the minimal, you’ll come back to take the rest when he’s not there. As you come out of the bedroom, he’s still at the entrance he didn’t move, he’s smoking like nothing is happening, this makes your blood boil. You stop right in front of him, taking off Arthur’s cardigan,

“You can give it to your girls.” You sneered, your voice trembling, throwing the clothe at him, he catches it with one hand not even glancing at it or at you.

You get out, slamming the door shut, letting tears run freely, once the doors of the elevator shut, you collapsed on the floor, you sobbed, hugging your knees close to your chest. You never thought this would happen, he had always been so different as Joker but never he had been this rude to you. You guessed he was completely embracing his Joker persona now and Arthur was becoming an old memory for him.

As you got out in the streets you looked around, you didn’t know where to go, you had nowhere to go, no family or friends anymore.

Joker’s side

As if his night hadn’t been shitty enough, he had to deal with your emotional outbursts or whatever. He sighed in annoyance, taking a long drag of his cigarette, he went to lay down on the sofa, he was tired, he was going to have some sleep first; and within a few seconds he was sleeping.

He woke up several hours later, the sun was already high in sky, it was maybe 2 or 3 in the afternoon; he passed a hand on his face and looked around. He suddenly realized how everything was silent, the place felt empty for some reason. He needed to clear his head, so he went to take off his makeup, he took off his shirt and jacket, shirtless as he started to wipe off his face the paint.

“Why was she so pissed off? I don’t get it.” He started to mutter, talking to himself. His hand movements becoming harsher with frustration.

“I have things to do, I can’t just leave and say, ‘sorry my girl told me to come home before 2’…right?” he continued, then paused as he thought deeply.

“Or maybe I should have sent a message or someone to tell her?” he continued his makeup now completely off, he went over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, why couldn’t he stop thinking about it!? He goes to the closet to change clothes.

“Now where’s my card…” he froze and remember you had thrown it at his face, so he goes to the living room, it lies on the floor, he bends to take it, the clothe is still warm; he remembers when he had entered the flat you were wearing it, he buried his face in it, closing his eyes, smelling your scent mixed with his, a happy smile formed on his lips, he could feel your arms wrapped around his body, your warm lips on his cool forehead.

“It’s nice…” he hummed, opening his eyes to look at you. But you weren’t there, the place felt suddenly dark and cold. So you really left? He wondered worry growing in his chest. The harsh words he had told you came back to his mind.

“Oh no what have I done?!” he exclaimed, taking his head in his hands, realization hitting him hard, he had lost you and it was his fault.

“I’m so stupid!” he started to hit his forehead with his fist “My fault! Why can’t you just…!” he collapsed on the floor crying, a laughter quickly coming, it hurt but he deserved it, he thought, he finally had someone who loved him, but he pushed you away, no it couldn’t happen, he had to get you back! Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on calming his erratic breathing. When it had finally calmed, he stood up, putting his cardigan on, taking his coat and shoes.

“I’m going to find you, even if I have to burn down the whole city.”

Your POV

You aimlessly stirred your spoon into your hot chocolate. You had stopped at the coffee near Pogo’s where you and Arthur often ended up after his show. You had stayed there the whole afternoon, still not knowing where to go, and it was getting dark outside, maybe you could find some cheap hotel, otherwise you’ll sleep in the streets and you were pretty sure this option wouldn’t end well. You swallowed down, not wanting to cry again. You heard the bell of the café loudly ring, the door hitting a table, you didn’t bother looking up probably someone in the hurry.

“Y/N thank god you’re here!” you instantly recognized Arthur’s voice, you turned your head in the opposite direction, you didn’t have the strength to look at him right now. From the corner of your eyes you saw him sit in front of you.

“Y/N I’m sorry, I…” he started, posing his hand on yours, at the contact you quickly moved yours away as if it had burned you, he retracted his hands, fidgeting his fingers, he looked down. You recognized this was Arthur’s behavior.

“I don’t want your apology” you shot, taking a deep breath, as you glanced at him. He was bouncing his legs, he quickly passed a hand through his hair.

“I let you down…Y/N I fucked up…” he started to explain, in a low voice, you laughed.

“You fucked up? You insulted me back there Arthur! I always accepted who you were, and even when you…changed I supported you, I was there for you! Accepting that you spend the evening and part of the night out, doing whatever you wanted to do! For once I tell you that I was worried for you, that I missed your presence and all I get back is a ‘shut it and be a nice girl’! Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?” you exploded, angrily wiping tears that had started to fall.

Arthur had listened to you, his heart was racing, you were right, how could you ever forgive him? He felt tears coming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Y/N, for everything thing I did…you don’t deserve it…” he was crying now, but he had to continue and tell you the truth “I don’t deserve you…you’ve…always been so kind to me…you…you could have let me down when….when I became J…” he started to laugh, his laughter attack hitting hard, people turning their heads to look at him, he tried to breath, there was so many things he wanted to tell you “I…I am…nothing witho…you! I…I always…come back…alive…for you…” he articulated between his ragged breath and laughs.

You furrowed, touched by his words, how he was trying to explain himself even during his laughter attack, you want to close the gap, between the two of you so you can soothe him, but you don’t want to get hurt, what if he started again tomorrow? He suddenly got up to collapse on his knees in front of you, grabbing the fabric of your pants.

“I’m so…sorry! Please…please…for…forgive me!” his forehead was on your thigh, his tears soaking your pants “I’m…so…sorry…please…ple..please…don’t…don’t leave me” he was being sincere, you could feel it, how could you stay mad at Arthur? he needed you and it seems Joker too…

You reached out for him cradling his head, caressing the back of his head, kissing his hair.

“I’m here Artie, I’m here now…” you soothed him, resting your forehead against the top of his head, whispering calming words to him. After a few minutes, his laugh had disappeared, his breathing and tears calmed. You cupped his face to meet his eyes, wiping away a tear rolling on his cheek with your thumb. He looked at you with hope.

“I forgive you Arthur…but it will take time for me heal this.” You told him softly, he nodded eagerly and kissed your palm.

“I’m going to make it up to you Y/N, I promise, every day until you want me in your arms again.” He vowed looking at you in the eyes “For the coming week I’ll stay by your side, I won’t leave and…and after this, I will respect our agreement, and contact you if I can’t make it! I promise if I fail you again then it’s because I don’t deserve you!” he added with determination, you couldn’t help the release a smile, moved by his words.

“Then let’s go home” you answered softly, tenderly kissing his lips, he closed his eyes and his hands encircled your waist, relieved that you still wanted him.

Tag list: @help-i-am-obssessed @the-ineffable-dreamer @skaravile

If you want to be part of the tag list ask me !

[deanscroissant]

Jackpot! Ch.1

Summary:  We often dream about winning the lottery, thinking that it’ll turn our lives in a fairy tale. But that’s far from the truth in Dean Winchester’s case. What will happen to Dean and the lives of his loved ones when they win the $900,000,000 Powerball Jackpot?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Violence, Angst, Fluff

Word count:  4,707

A/n: I hope you enjoy the first chapter to this series.  Feedback is greatly appreciated. :)

Dean hated his job working in construction. He would have loved it if they didn’t pay him below the minimum wage since construction and working on cars were his two main passions. It sucks because he has a family he has to take care of and the money he’s earning isn't helping one bit. 

His wife Y/n, two eldest sons Michael (11) and Carter (10), and twin daughters Mya and Cheyenne (2) were the absolute world to him. But he can’t help but feel like a failing father and husband to them whenever he would bring home a three hundred dollar check every two weeks. He hated the sad look his children would give him when he could only afford one present for them on their birthday or Christmas, or couldn’t afford to give them money for school lunch. 

Even if the twins didn’t know better and was happy with whatever he gave them, it always feel like he could have done better or work harder. He would also feel even more guilty when he couldn’t help his wife pay bills. She would ask him to give him at least 10% for the bills and tell him not to worry about it when it would bother him, but deep down he knew his wife couldn't take struggling like this anymore. 

It was putting a strain on their relationship. She was tired. He was tired. He doesn’t remember the last time they went on vacation with just the two of them. He tried saving up but wasn’t able to. He wanted to give her the world, show her how much he appreciates her besides having sex, which they don’t do as often either. 

Dean didn’t know which way to turn. He hated asking his brother for money, even though Sam would be more than willing to give him anything. He sure as hell was NOT going to ask his father for anything. When his mom died their relationship has been rocky. The last time he spoke to him was almost four years ago, and was hoping to keep it that way. 

But when Dean was talking to some of his coworkers during lunch, one of them brought up the lottery. The Powerball prize was at 900 million dollars and apparently everyone has been talking about it. Dean couldn’t figure out how he didn’t know about it, but the idea of playing the lottery was tempting to him. He doesn’t really think about playing it often. He always felt like he would get bad luck if he’d play, but something in his gut was telling him to try, so he did. 

When he got to the gas station during his lunch break, he didn’t know if he should spend his last two dollars on lunch or buy a play slip. But when he saw his coworkers at checkout asking for one he joined them. He quickly filled out his play slip, playing the random numbers he made up but the powerball number, 18. 

The number 18 was special to Dean, because when he was 18 he met the love of his life. Y/n was someone special and he was so glad that he didn’t let you go. The sacrifices were worth going through with her and he would do it all again in a heartbeat. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about her; her beautiful smile, her pretty, y/e/c eyes, the way she carries herself. She was perfect in his eyes.

Looking at his scoreboard once more, he hands the cashier the play slip then received his ticket. He puts it in his wallet to make sure he doesn’t lose it before heading back to work with his coworkers. By the time five o’clock hit he clocked out and headed home. He couldn’t begin to explain how tired he was. The next time he’s off is Sunday, which is tomorrow. Only having one day off every week was bullshit to him. 

When Dean walks into his home, he’s greeted with the sound of screaming toddlers playing in the living room and the sight of his wife’s distraught form, sitting at the kitchen table with papers scattered everywhere and a laptop sitting in front of her. Michael and Carter came running down the stairs just in time to see their father. 

Dean greeted them with hugs and a kiss on top of their heads before they ran off, not giving Dean enough time to ask them how their day was. He only shakes his head and chuckled as he watched the little boys chase each other. He walks over to his wife next, “Hey, baby.” he says before kissing her temple. 

“Hey.” She mumbled as she was focusing on whatever she was doing on the laptop. Dean glanced over her shoulder to see what she’s reading on the screen. “What are you up to?”

She stops to look at him with a look of exasperation, which made Dean confused. “What’s the matter?”

Y/n sits back in her chair while taking off her reading glasses, “The water cut off today while you were at work. That’s what’s wrong.” she explained.

“Shit.” he cursed under his breath and ran a hand down his face. This was the second time Dean forgot to give her money for the water bill and he promised her the last time that he’ll give it to her. “Is it still off? How much is it?”

“Five hundred, Dean.” she sighed, “Now I only have ten in the bank.” Y/n was beyond frustrated with him. She reminded him a week before the bill was due that he needed to pay his half.

“I’m so sorry, y/n/n. I was gonna tell you I wasn’t going to be able to give you the money. I promise I’ll-”

“No!” she snapped, “You’re not going to pay me back so quit lying to me!”

“I’m not! Next paycheck I’ll just give you my whole check. That way you won’t have to keep asking me.”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Don’t even bother, Dean.” They both stare at each other for a few moments, the tension in the air getting thicker by the second. “When are you going to quit that job anyways?”

This time Dean rolls his eyes with a groan. He stalks his way to the fridge to grab himself a water bottle. A glass of whiskey seemed appropriate right about now, but Dean ran out of it a couple of weeks ago when they both got into an argument about not making enough money and Dean needing to quit. 

“I said I was gonna think about it, y/n.” he said and sighed while slamming the fridge door shut. “I don’t wanna get into that right now.” 

“Well, think quickly, Dean, because we’re not getting anywhere. You know how my situation is.” Y/n is an online teacher for homeschooling. She used to be an assistant teacher in high school but had to quit because she became a stay-at-home mom, and plus, she wasn’t making enough money anyway...as so she thought. The money that she’s making right now is way worse than before.

“Yeah, I know, y/n/n. You know I can’t quit right now.”

“Yes you can, Dean. You can go back to working with your dad-”

Dean was not going to let her finish that sentence. His jaw clenched at the thought of that asshole. “The hell if I am. I’m not working with him again. Ever.”

“Why can’t you two just put your differences aside? You made a decent amount of money there.”

He gives her a look as a warning to cut the conversation short or he’ll go off on her. She began to speak but, saved by the bell, Cheyenne was tugging on her shirt for her to refill the sippy cup she was holding. When Y/n got up it was Dean’s cue to leave, not wanting to talk anymore. 

But Y/n was right behind him once she gave Cheyenne her juice. He was ascending the stairs and she trailed behind him, “We’re not done talking about this, Dean.” she says. 

“Well, I am.” he grumbled as he walked into their bedroom to take off his grimy work clothes, “Why’d you think I walked away?”

That ticked her off and she slammed the door behind her, “You know what? I’ve had it with you! I’m tired of you ignoring this situation we’re in-”

“I’m tired, y/n!” Dean snapped, “I don’t want to talk right now, okay?!”

“Oh don’t give me that sorry ass excuse!” Y/n fired back, “You need to stop putting our problems aside like it’s nothing. It’s like you don’t care at this point.”

“I do care. Why do you think I’m working damn near fifty hours a week?”

“Just to bring home half of what I make?!” Her voice began to go higher, “It’s pointless working there, Dean.”

Dean shook his head at her while walking back to the bed to take off his shoes. He couldn’t believe she was acting like this, “Are you appreciative of anything I bring to the table?”

She scrunched her face looking at him confused, “What? Of course I am! But you gotta step up your game, Dean.” She stops for a moment as she began to feel her throat tighten, trying to gain back her composure, “We can barely put food on the table. I don’t want to starve our children. I’m tired of feeding them the same thing over and over again.”

Dean kept quiet as he went to his closet to put on some clothes he found on the floor. He didn’t even bother to take a shower since it seemed like he won’t at the moment. He knows this is going to be another heated argument, so he’s ready to storm out whenever it gets to that point. 

“I don’t know what’s so hard about going back to your father and asking him for your old job back-”

“That son of a bitch is not my father.” Dean was getting sick of her bringing him up and she can tell, but she is not letting it go, despite the fact that his father treated him like he was a slave and humiliated him in the most inhumane way ever. 

“You two need to settle your differences. I know what he did was terrible and he shouldn’t have done that to you, but you need to talk to him.” y/n persuade, crossing her arms. 

Dean yanked his shirt down when he put it on before looking at y/n with fiery eyes, “I’m not talking to him.  He put me through hell working for him and I’ll be damned to go back and be his little bitch!”

“You don’t even have to do that!” she said, matter-of-factly, “Just ask him to give you some money or something.” 

Dean was so disappointed. Y/n knew about him and his father’s rocky relationship ever since she met him, and for her to say this to him was shocking. He saw it in her eyes that she was desperate, but Dean couldn’t face his father again. Not after the things he did to him. He promised himself he wouldn’t ask him for nothing. 

“Are you crazy?” he said, incredulously. “Do you really think I would ask him for money? He barely gave me money when I was working for him!” His raised his voice louder, which did shook y/n and add more flame to the fire when she raised hers. 

“It’s better than fucking nothing, Dean! My gosh you’re so stubborn!”

“Well how about you go prance your ass down there and ask him! Because I’m not going back there to be humiliated by those freaks!”

“You’re not supposed to give a damn about them. You’re there to work for us, not to please them!”

“It affected the way I worked for us!”

Meanwhile, the four children could hear their parents arguing from downstairs. Michael and Carter were holding the twins, frightened that they would begin to get physical again. 

Y/n and Dean did put their hands on each other on some occasions. The last time it happened was last year when Dean pushed y/n into a wall and left a crack where her back had hit it. Due to not affording a hospital visit, y/n didn’t bother to go get it checked out. So now she still suffers from back pains from it. 

They promised each other they wouldn’t lay a hand on each other again, and apologized to their children countless of times for ever showing them that kind of violence. Those fights did traumatized the oldest children, and it broke their hearts that their children had to grow up remembering those fights. 

A few minutes passed by and Dean came from out of the room, slamming the door shut then storming down the steps as he put on his flannel. When he looks up to see his children staring at him in fear, his whole demeanor changed. It angered him, at himself, of course, to see his children be fearful of him when he yelled. Dean hated the yelling just as much as they did. 

Dean sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m so sorry, guys. Momma and I were talking about grown up stuff.”

“Were those grown up stuff about money again?” Michael spoke softly. 

Dean also hated that his children knew what was stressing them out. He didn’t want to lie, so he nodded and replied, “Yeah. But it’ll all be taken care of, okay? Don’t you guys worry about a thing...” He smiled, crouching down to meet them eye to eye, “...besides those princesses you’re holding.”

They both returned a smile back as Dean tickled the two girls, who both roared in laughter just to get them to cheer up. Dean stopped to back away and look at his beautiful offspring, “You know I love you guys to death, right?”

“We know, Dad.” Carter giggled, which made Dean smile. He pulled them into a hug, and seconds later his eyes were beginning to water. Dean doesn’t want to end up like his father when he was growing up, so he’s trying his damndest to be a better father and role model unlike him. 

He pulled away as he quickly blinked back the tears. He had to get out of the house to clear his head, so he asked if they were up for the park and ice cream, which they did not decline at all. With a smile, Dean took the kids upstairs to get them dressed then headed out to the park. 

Nearby was an ice cream parlor. Dean remembered that he didn’t have any cash on him, only his credit card that he maxed out a few days ago on groceries. Right now he didn’t care. He just wanted to make his children happy. He’ll just have to deal with the overdraft fees later. 

Dean watches his kids play on the playground while eating his Cherry Garcia ice cream, as his mind goes to the $900M Jackpot. First off, Dean wasn’t so sure if he would even live if he finds out he won because he would probably die if he did. That’s a whole lot of money, enough to last you a lifetime. Second, he wouldn’t know where to begin due to the adrenaline rushing through his body. He did gave it some thought over his lunch break today. 

He would first quit his job and get the heck out of Kansas and move to Texas where him and y/n dreamed of living since they were teens. Then he would pay off any debt they had, and then start his mobile mechanic business. Of course he’d save up for his children, and probably invest in stocks. Those were the main things he wanted to accomplish first. 

Dean didn’t realize they were out for almost two hours. He wasn’t shocked that y/n didn’t bother to call and check on them, because it was typical of her whenever they’d fought. They left around six for dinnertime and when they got home you were already finishing up cooking leftovers from two nights ago. 

Dean walked upstairs to finally take a shower for supper and bed. Once dressed he folds up his lottery ticket then puts it in his pocket for later, then walked down to the living room to play with the kids until it was time to eat. 

“Dinner is ready!” y/n shouted from the kitchen as she sat the last plate of food down on the table. Moments later the kids came running into the kitchen, their laughter filling the air. She caught their contagious laugh as she watched her little girls struggle to catch up with their brothers. 

Her husband came in and swooped up Mya, kissing her temple before placing her in the worn down highchair that used to be Michael and Carter’s. You did the same with Cheyenne before sitting down next to her, then placing some of the food on her tray. 

Y/n glanced around the table to make sure everyone was situated before she dug in. The table was mostly quiet tonight, besides the babbling between the twins and the boys exchanging a few words about school. But y/n and Dean haven’t even glanced at each other. 

Carter noticed that and he looked between them frowning, “Momma, do you and Dad not love each other anymore?”

It caught both the parents off guard, making them halt their eating. For the first time Dean looks at you for your reaction, which mirrored his before he turned to Carter, giving him a confused look, “Of course we love each other, Carter. Why would you think that?”

He played with a piece of meat on his plate, sighing softly, “Because you’re always arguing. I thought the more you argued, the less you love each other.”

Y/n was lost for words. It made her heart hurt for that to be on her child’s mind. “Baby, no.” she spoke, reaching for his hand to squeeze then glancing over to Dean, “It’s what married couples do. Not every marriage is perfect. We still love each other, okay?”

Carter was going to bring up about y/n and Dean’s violence toward each other and ask was that okay for married couples to do, but brushed the thought away and nodded and continued on with his meal. 

Y/n squeezed his hand again before pulling away. Turning back Dean was staring at her, and she knew what he was thinking about. He was getting ready to say something but she stopped him by giving him a look, not wanting to talk about it anymore until later. 

After dinner, Dean offered to clean the kitchen while y/n took the kids upstairs to get them ready for bed. Once he’d finished he kissed his children goodnight before going back downstairs to watch the drawing, while y/n went to the bedroom to catch up on paperwork. 

Dean got comfortable on the couch, with his ticket in one hand and the remote in the other as he changed the channel to the drawing. He wasn’t so optimistic about this but figured it was worth a try at playing. He did begin to get a little nervous when the drawing had started. 

He watched the TV attentively at the announcer, who was introducing herself and explaining tonight’s drawing while the numbered balls were spinning behind her in clear containers. Dean’s heart was racing as he watched the air in the containers spin them around. It stopped spinning so that the first ball would raise and drop down into the tube where the winning numbers are shown. 

The announcer read off the numbers 20, 12, 51, 34, 53 and the powerball number 18. Dean looked down at his ticket and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

He quickly paused the TV to study the numbers again. He first thought that someone pulled a prank on him. He thought maybe one of his work buddies set something up. But it didn’t make sense to him. None of this was making sense to him. 

He decided to call up his work buddy Benny Lafitte, who was someone that he grew close to over the years and saw him more as a brother. He didn’t want to sound unusual and let him think he was being suspicious so he told himself to calm down before making the call. 

Benny picked up after the third ring and greeted in his southern drawl, “Hey, brother! The dang on lottery robbed me again. No lucky over here.”

Dean breathes out a laugh, “I only got one number. Not much luck either.”

“Well you had more luck than me. What number was it?”

“I don’t remember. I’m out right now getting some last minute stuff for y/n. What were the numbers again?”

“It was…” Dean could hear shuffling going on in the background, “20, 12, 51, 34, 53. The powerball was 18. How could it be possible for anyone to guess those numbers?”

His eyes grew wide as his phone slipped through his hand and fell to the floor. One thing he knew about Benny was that Benny would never lie to him. Dean was trying to think back if anyone was watching him, or if the cashier was up to no good either. 

But it wasn’t making sense at all. No one was watching him or did anything suspicious to his knowledge. 

Dean was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Benny’s voice coming from the floor. He quickly picked up the phone, “S-sorry, Ben. I’m driving and I accidentally dropped my phone. So it was those numbers? Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He said, rather in a question type of tone. “Why?”

“Nothing.” Dean said quickly, “I thought it was 13 I had but it was 12. So I’m in the same boat as you, brother.”

Benny chuckled, “Man, Andrea had no luck, my in-laws had no luck, them knuckleheads at work sure didn’t. Can’t win them all, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Dean just realized he actually won. Benny wouldn’t let anyone pull a prank like this on his best friend who knows that he’s financially unstable. It just didn’t add up. 

“Listen, Benny, I just got home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright?” They said their goodbyes and Dean hastily ended the call before throwing the phone on the couch as if it stung his hand. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees when he felt like he was about to pass out. 

“I fucking won.” he spoke softly. His breathing was labored and his hands started to shake. He suddenly dropped to his knees, and his vision went dark. 

Dean had jolted himself awake from his own snoring. He sat up and blinked his eyes to regain his consciousness before rubbing his eyes.  He looked around and wondered why he was sleeping on the floor. Realization hit him like a freight train when he saw the lottery ticket laying there on the floor staring back at him. 

With wide eyes he picked it back up and stared at the ticket. “Son of a bitch!” he breathed out as he felt his eyes begin to sting. He turned around to find his phone to check the time. It was midnight, so he had to have been passed out for three hours. 

He threw the phone back on the couch before he hopped off the floor. A rush of euphoria coursed through him as he jogged up the stairs while screaming out y/n’s name. He burst through the bedroom door to see her passed out with her laptop open and papers scattered around her and on her stomach. 

But she bolted awake at the noise and her eyes were on Dean, who was walking towards her with a smile that actually terrified her. “Dean, what the hell-” she started in a grouchy tone but Dean cut her off. 

“We won!” he exclaimed in delight as he threw his hands up. “We won the Jackpot, baby!”

Y/n blinked at him a few times, not only confused but trying to adjust her eyes to the bright lights. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Come ‘ere I’ll show you.” Grabbing her hands he almost yanked her off the bed before leading the way to the living room where the TV was still paused to the numbers from hours ago. He points at the TV then at the ticket in his hand while handing it to you, “They’re all the same fucking numbers, even the powerball.”

She squinted as she tried to read the numbers on the ticket, “Dean, I need my glasses.” she said, tiredly. 

“Just read the-” he stopped himself and let out a breath. “I’ll go get them.” 

He came back in no time with her glasses. She puts them on and reads the numbers back and forth. Y/n felt like Dean was pulling one of his pranks again and she wasn’t having it right now. She cuts her eyes at him, “You really think this is funny, huh? Waking me up out of my sleep for this shit?!”

Dean’s smiled faded and his face scrunched, “What are you talking about? Babe, this is real! As real as it’ll ever get!”

“You know how bad are finances are and you wanted to pull some prank that you won the lottery? How dare you!” 

“Why would I prank you about this? Babe, this is not fake! Where would I go to print out a fake ticket? You know I’m not that good with computers. How would I be able to get those numbers on TV?”

Y/n stayed quiet for a moment. It made sense to her, but a part of her was saying otherwise. “I don’t know, Dean.” she said softly.

“I thought someone was pranking me, too, until I called Benny to confirm it.”

“You told him?”

“No. I made it seem like I didn’t win. I asked him to tell me the numbers again and made it seem like I was out. He repeated back all of the numbers.”

Y/n went quiet again to process what he said and she couldn’t believe it. It was impossible. They were terrible at finding luck and all of a sudden this shows up. A wave of mixed emotions hit her suddenly and she began to tear up, “Are you sure, Dean?”

“I would never lie to you, sweetheart.” Dean said with tears in his own eyes. 

She looked back at the numbers again and almost choked when she realized that it was true. She was holding the key to making a better life for her family. They won nine-hundred million dollars. 

She met her gaze with his and held his head in between her hands. “You mean to tell-” she hiccuped then smiled, “tell me that you won? You’re telling me that right now?”

Dean shook his head with tears flowing down his face as he placed his hand on top of hers, “No, baby, we won.” 

“We won!” she screamed happily and threw her arms around Dean. With a toothy smile he picks her up and holds her close. She pulls away when she remembers about the fight they had. When she was doing paperwork earlier she was thinking about the things she said and thought how wrong she was. “Baby, I’m so sorry about what happened earlier. I-”

Dean cuts her off with a kiss to silence her. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Let’s put that all behind us. We have bigger, exciting things to worry about now.”

She nods and goes back to hugging him and continues to sob happy tears on her husband’s shoulder. The pair couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them and see the impact of this fortune helping their family. 

[alwayschoosechocolate]

Are we even speaking the same language? (Part 12)

Sophie moves to Seoul to become a language assistant at one of Seouls biggest music companies. Even though her Korean is far from perfect, she quickly seems to get along with some of the biggest stars in the company. But the language might not be the only barrier, she has to overcome.

Characters: All seven members of BTS, paring between Namjoon x main character

Word count: 3672

Genre: romance, angst, fluff

Warnings: struggles with mental health

Comments: When the dialog is written in cursive, it’s in Korean. When it’s bold, it’s in Danish.

Masterpost with the other parts of the story, can be found here (x)

Stirred awake by the sun coming in through the curtains and the empty space next to him, Namjoon sleepily raised his head to look around in confusion. He could hear her soft voice coming from the living room, and the hum of the coffee machine. Checking his phone, he discovered that it was only half past 7 in the morning. He groaned as he forced his body up to a seated position, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair, before he pushed himself off the bed and padded towards the kitchen.

He found Sophie sitting on the couch, coffee mug in hand and talking to someone on the phone. Not quite understanding the language, he guessed that it was Danish and that she was probably talking to her sister. She gave him a small smile as he placed a kiss on her cheek walking past her to get some coffee. He filled a new cup for her as well and went to sit down next to her on the couch, draping an arm over her shoulder, only to have her shrug it off. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, as she mouthed a sorry to him and moved to sit on the floor instead. Namjoon observed her with worried eyes, as she kept talking on the phone. Judging from the tone, it sounded like she was comforting someone, but he had no idea, what it was about. He could feel her shuffle under his stare, so he pulled out his phone to keep him entertained while she finished the conversation.

“Morning, babe,” her soft voice called, drawing Namjoons eyes away from his phone.

“Morning. Who were you talking to?”, he smiled at her.

“Just my sister. Sorry, it took so long.”

He just shook his head at her and kept smiling at her, observing how she reached for the fresh coffee he had poured her.

“When do you have practice today, Joon?”, she asked, taking a sip of the cup.

“At 9, so I have about an hour until I have to go, and then I’ll come straight back here, when we’re done.”

Sophie felt herself tense up at his words. He had been staying at her place every night since they came back from the last concerts. That was 2 weeks ago. As nice as it was to sleep next to him, as annoyed was she with him constantly checking up on her. Asking if she had eaten, if she had slept well, if she had showered. Constantly asking if she was okay, and not accepting any other answer than ‘great’. It was exhausting.

“Joon, you don’t have to keep staying here. I can take care of myself. You know that.” She tried keeping her tone sweet, but she could hear the bite behind the words.

“I want to stay here. I like being close to you,” he answered, elegantly dodging her claim that she could take care of herself.

“Namjoon, I need some time to myself as well. I like having you around, but don’t you think it’s a bit too much? We’ve only been dating for 2 months?”

He scrunched his face at her words, irritation clear on his features.

“Too much? I’m your boyfriend. I like spending time with you. I like taking care of you. Is that a bad thing?” He seemed genuinely baffled by her questions.

“No, but that’s just it. You don’t have to take care of me, just because you are my boyfriend. Just like you don’t have to keep other men away from me,” she stressed, sending him a stern look.

There had been several incidents of Namjoon acting like a caveman, when guys at the office would approach her with questions about work, and quite frankly she was fed up with it.

“Sophie, they were hitting on you. I don’t like other men touching you.”

His voice was deep, and he spoke slowly, as if to stress every word. Sophie rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

“I don’t get it, Namjoon. Do you really want a fucking child as a girlfriend?”, she groaned. “Because it seems you are only satisfied, if you can babysit me and keep an eye on me every fucking hour of the day?”

“I’m just trying to help you, Sophie!”

“With what exactly? Keeping my alive?” She pushed herself off the floor and started pacing it instead. “I told you, I don’t harm myself. I eat and sleep normally, I go to work every day, I keep in contact with my friends. Except not since you forced your ass in here! I haven’t seen anyone outside of work in forever!”

“Oh, come on! It’s not like I keep you a prisoner, Soph! You’re free to go as you want.” He was still sitting on the couch with an annoyed look on his face.

“Oh, really? Is that why, you insist on checking up on me every hour? Even when I’m at work? I don’t know, how a relationship normally works here in Korea, but in Denmark, this would have been bordering on stalking!”

“Oh really? You’re really using the culture-card? Well, you don’t live in Denmark anymore, love. Maybe you should just adapt to life here,” his voice dropped an octave at his last words, and he all but growled them.

Sophie stared at him in pure anger, her jaw set in rage.

“Maybe you should just leave. I don’t need or want you here. If you insist on treating my like this, I don’t want anything to do with you,” her voice icy, when she spoke the last sentence in Danish.

She smirked, when she saw his eyes light up in anger.

“Really? You’re changing languages? Are you just gonna say screw it to all the rules you made?”

“Rules are made to be broken, Joon. Who the fuck cares?”

Her eyes were glinting in anger, and she felt it pump through her body, finally flushing out all of the pent-up feelings she had against him. He all but looked at her, before shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in disappointment.

“You’re lucky, I have to go to work –“

“Or what, Joon? You would have forced me to succumb to your rule? Have made me accept your forced help? You don’t get to act disappointed here. You’re just as much part of this problem, as I am!”

“Sophie,” he sighed, seeming completely spent. “I’m only trying to help you take care of yourself. You don’t want to talk about, what’s going on, so I’m helping the only way I know how to – by protecting you.” His eyes had softened as he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“I don’t need your help or protection, Joon. I need you to stop. This power struggle we have going on – I hate it!”

Her voice broke at the last words. Not from anger or tears, but from lack of both. She had no energy left, and she could feel the fight inside her die down. She needed to get him out soon.

“I know that, Sophie,” he told her softly. “You tell me that you don’t need me almost every day. And I’ll keep answering the same thing. You don’t need me, but it’s okay to want me here. I just wish you would stop pushing me away and picking fights with me all the time,” he sighed, as he stood up from the couch and made his way to the bedroom to get ready.  

Sophie felt the guilt contort through her body, as she let herself fall to the floor, sitting herself against the bookcase. Resting her elbows on her knees, she buried her face in her arms, hoping that Namjoon would leave without more talking. She had no excuse for what she did. For what she had said.

She heard his footsteps emerge from the bedroom and walk across the living room, coming to a halt somewhere in the middle. She could clearly picture how he would furrow his eyebrows slightly and push his jaw out, while debating what to do. If he should ask her again. Or maybe he would just send her an annoyed look and shake his head in disappointment. He had been doing that a lot lately.

Every time he had tried starting a conversation about how she was doing, what was troubling her so much, what made her sad, Sophie had tried avoiding the questions. She had fed him some meaningless stories about her siblings, her mom being immature. Nothing, really. And in the beginning, he had been pleased that she was sharing, but as the days went by and she didn’t open up more, he started getting more insistent, asking her more direct questions, opening up about his own life and struggles, hoping that it would make her open up as well. But it didn’t. He had asked her to explain some of the poems, but she had refused. He had asked her to write some more poetry, explaining what she was feeling, but she couldn’t. And through all this, he had been over her constantly. Asking if she had eaten, if she had slept, if she had been outside, if she was happy. Lying to him was getting harder. Since he found her on the floor, he had started analyzing every move she made. If she sat down on the floor to eat her meal, he thought she was having a brake-down. If she didn’t respond to his text immediately, he called to check up on her. He was slowly suffocating her with help and understanding.

She had started skipping meals again just to feel that spark of rebellion. It had been a long time, since she had skipped meals and she was a little shocked with how easy it was to get back into the rhythm. Every time she succeeded in making him think, that she had eaten even though she hadn’t or that she was okay, even though she had just gotten off the phone with her sister, she felt a sick feeling of pride. She was proud, that she could keep it hidden from him. She couldn’t stop him worrying, but she could at least still keep some things hidden from him.

Sophie heard his footsteps moving across the floor and out the door. When the door slammed shut, she let out a breath of relief, and laid herself down on the floor. She stayed there for a moment, eyes shut, breathing heavy and guilt in her heart. Why was it so hard to keep him from worrying about her?

When she finally found the strength to get up, she slowly made her way to the kitchen, noticing two notes on the counter. One was the usual reminder from Namjoon for her to eat breakfast. Rolling her eyes, she balled it up and threw it in the sink. But the other one was longer, and she had to reread it a few times.

 I know some of your deepest feelings, Soph. You let me read your deepest thoughts. Why won’t you let me know the shell surrounding them?

Scoffing, she grabbed the pen off the counter and scribbled an answer on the note before smacking the pen back on the counter with a satisfying nod. Grapping another coffee, she made her way to the couch. She had some translations to get out of the way.

   Hours later, she was finally done for the day and stretched in her seat to reach her phone on the other side of the table. Both Tae and Jimin had texted her, asking if she was coming by the dance studio today. Checking the time, she figured it wasn’t a bad idea. Namjoon had probably cooled off, and she missed the other boys.

She grabbed a quick shower and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt. It was pretty warm out, so she decided to walk there.

 She could hear the music long before she got to their dance studio. She recognized the music as one of the new numbers, and as she opened the door, she was meet with their sweaty forms, watching their movements in the mirror as they moved around the room. She caught Jimins eye as they ran to change positions mid-song, and he sent a wink before focusing on the dancing again. She sat down against the wall, placing her bag beside her.

She watched in awe as they moved elegantly and effortless through the steps, and she suddenly realized that they were only 6. Namjoon wasn’t here. Half sighing in relief, she felt her body relax. She wouldn’t have to apologize just yet. When the song ended, Jimin all but squealed her name, as he ran to her and threw his body against her.

“Sophie, I haven’t seen you in so long. I missed you!”, he spoke against her hair, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

“I missed you too, Jiminie,” she giggled.

“Namjoon-ah isn’t here, Soph. He is in his studio,” Hoseok told her with a smile.

“That’s okay. I came to see you guys,” she answered, ruffling Jimins hair a bit.

He cooed  at her words and she was so busy getting hugged by Jimin, that she didn’t catch the worried glances the others sent each other.

“Are you guys alright?”, Yoongi asked, trying to sound indifferent.

Sophie head shot up at his words, and she sent him an annoyed gaze.

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“He’s been a bit weird lately, and he won’t tell us why. And he hasn’t been at the dorm in forever,” Jin cut in, carefully stepping towards her.

Jimin felt her tightening her hold on him and pulling him slightly in front of her.

“We’re fine. Don’t worry.”

Her voice was quieter than normal, and they all picked up on her burrowing herself behind Jimin.  

“It’s probably just Hyung having a bad day,” Jimin interjected, sending Hoseok a telling look, to get the others away for a bit. He quickly caught on and called the others towards the mirror again and started the music.

Hidden by the music, Jimin turned around so he was facing Sophie instead of lying against her. His soft eyes found hers, and she felt herself tense up. She knew, what was coming.

“Are y-“

“Please don’t ask me, if I’m okay, Jimin,” she interrupted him with a heavy sigh.

His eyes widened at her response and he placed a hand on her knee, tracing circles with his thumb as he held her gaze.

“What’s going on?”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

“Nothing new.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She visibly relaxed at his words and sent him a small thankful smile.

“No. I really don’t.”

He mirrored her smile and ruffled her hair a bit.

“I don’t know, what’s going in there,” he said as he tapped her lightly on the forehead. “But if and when you need someone to talk to or anything, just let me know, okay?”

She nodded and thanked him, even though she knew, that she would probably never make use of the offer.

Jimin gave a satisfied nod at her response and turned his body around, so he could lean his back against her front. It was their go-to cuddle position.

“So, what’s going on with Namjoon?”, he asked, as he let his head rest on her shoulder.

“Hmm. Stubborn,” she giggled dryly, as she snaked her arms around Jimins frame and rested her head on his hair. She felt the vibrations in his chest as he laughed at her.

“Yeah, because he’s the only stubborn one in your relationship.”

Sophie smacked his chest with a laugh and looked up to see the others watching them. She quickly looked down again and let out a sigh.

“He’s just… He wants to protect me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”, Jimin asked, as he stroked her arms.

“I don’t need protecting, Jimin.” Her voice had hardened, and she stopped caressing him.

“He knows that, Soph. He probably just likes to feel needed,” Jimin said in a soft voice, trying to calm her again.

“Well, he isn’t. I can do this on my own,” she groaned.

“Do what, Soph?”

He felt her sigh heavily and burrow her head against his neck. She had never been good at keeping secrets from Jimin.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” he whispered, and he felt her shake her head against his neck.

“I can’t, Jimin. I don’t know how to say it in Korean. I don’t want you to misunderstand.”

He just nodded and pulled her arms closer around him and placed his own arms on top of hers.

“Then I’ll wait.”

She whispered a thank you against his hair, and he couldn’t help the soft smile spread on his face at how tightly she was hugging him. How small she was making herself behind him. How her breathing calmed at his words.

“Jimin, are you done hogging Sophie? I want a hug as well,” Tae insisted, breaking the bubbled around Sophie and Jimin.

Sophie giggled at his words and untangled herself from Jimin to stand up and hug Tae.

“Do you want to go get ice cream, when we’re done practicing?”, he asked her with a pouty smile and puppy eyes. She laughed at his expression, before agreeing. She didn’t have anything else, she had to do that day, and she hadn’t been hanging out with the guys in such a long time.

As they went back to practicing, she made her way to Namjoons studio. She knew, they had to talk about what happened at some point. It might as well be now.

 When she reached his studio, she knocked softly, and when the door opened, she was surprised to see Pdogg on the other side. She had talked to him before, but she wasn’t close with him in the same way as she was with the other members.

“Sophie! Come on in. We’re almost done,” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let her in. She thanked him and took a seat on the couch. Namjoon was seated with his back towards her, and he didn’t turn around to greet her. She felt the annoyance stir in her stomach, but she pushed it down.

She exchanged a few sentences with Pdogg, just small talk, while he finished up with Namjoon. When they were done, he high-fived Namjoon and gave Sophie a small wave, before leaving the studio.

 "You know, that he is older than you, right?", Namjoon asked, addressing her for the first time. Sophie looked at him with confused eyes.

"Yeah?", she wasn't sure, where he was going with the question.

"Then why didn't you use honorifics?", Namjoon asked, an annoyed tone to his voice. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, shit! I didn't?", her cheeks flared up in embarrassment and she covered her face in her hands. "Dammit! I'll have to get better at that. I still struggle a lot with that."

Namjoon could feel his annoyance flare up.

"You've been living here for more than 2 months now, speaking Korean every day. Don't you think you should have gotten a better grip of it by now?" He had his back turned towards her, typing away on his keyboard. Sophie winched at his words.

"Maybe," she said in a small voice. "It's just so different from the languages, I'm used to. So, I have to actively think about it every time I speak."

She was trying to stay calm, still licking her wounds from their fight this morning, but he was really testing her patience.

"Maybe you should just try harder." Namjoons voice was harsh. "I mean, it's a little embarrassing, isn't?"

He knew he was way out of line. But fighting was basically all they were doing these days, if he wasn’t trying to get her to talk, and he was fed up with her attitude.

Sophie could feel the annoyance and anger start to build up in the pit of her stomach.

"Embarrassing to whom, Namjoon?"

Her voice was clear and calm. He turned around and looked at her.

"What do you mean?", he said in an impatient tone, looking beyond annoyed.

"Who is it embarrassing to, Namjoon?" Her voice had gotten icy and her eyes were glinting in anger. So much for not picking a fight. "To you?"

He rolled his eyes at her.

"That's not what I said", he said.

Sophie scoffed, nodded her head with a close-lipped smile.

"Ah, of course not," she spat out in a laugh. "So, I'm embarrassing myself, when I speak? Is that what you mean?"

He gave her an exasperated look.

"Sophie, you're being disrespectful, when you don't talk in honorifics to the people above you," he explained in an impatient tone.

"I know that. It's not something I do on purpose." Sophie gritted her teeth. She could feel her cheeks flare up in anger. Why was he being such an asshole about it?

"I do my best, you know."

She was struggling to keep her voice calm. She didn't want him to know how much this affected her.

"Then maybe try to do it better, because it's not good enough."

Namjoon was getting increasingly irritated with her. Why couldn't she understand, how disrespectful she was being? She was living in Korea now. That meant following the customs here.

"You know, technically, you should use honorifics when talking to me as well. I'm practically your boss," he stated in a matter of fact tone.

Sophies eyes were stormy and her hands were shaking. She gave him with the iciest look she could muster, before grabbing her phone of the table.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry for that, sir." Her voice was shaking in anger. "I'll remember that next time, sir. So sorry to bother you."

She gave him a deep bow, before standing up straight, sending him a glare and exiting the studio.

@lidda

[lovinitkpop]

Brown Sugar and Honey

This one is about a new girl group at SM. You could say EXO sister group there may be a love line put in it who really knows. I mean I know but then again I might not know. Heads up I’m sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes after rereading it over and over I can’t deal with it.

Oh the reason I came up with this title is because the main OC is black and DO KyungSoo looks damn sexy and handsome when his skin is dark and tan and NOT WHITE WASHED!!!!! STOP THE WHITE WASHING!!!!!!!!

If there is a love line then it will be my first Kyungsoo series. Hope you like it but if you don’t guess what I don’t give two shits leave my blog then. Anyways enjoy bye.

Warnings: Fluffy, Angst, Language, Bullying, Stupid, May not make senses, Brain frat, May not have smut, Trigger, Suicide talk, Racism, Blood, etc.

Pairing: OC x DO Kyungsoo

Chapter 31

July 7, 2019

Renesmee looks around the set nodding her head. “Unnie!” Eunjin calls out walking over to Renesmee.

“What’s up?” Renesmee say looking back at her. Eunjin smiles hugging Renesmee. “Someone is happy today.”

“Yup today we start filming videos for our tour.” Eunjin says leaning her head on Renesmee shoulder.

The rest of the girls walk out ready to start filming. “You okay?” Jisoo asks looking at Renesmee.

“Yeah just a lot on my mind still.” Renesmee says smiling looking at her. “Still trying to process this whole album thing.”

“Okay girls lets get ready for the ball.” Their manager says looking at them. The girls nod finishing getting ready.

Once on set they get ready they start filming for the day. After they finish the first couple of scenes the girls run off and get change.

It was around 5 in the afternoon when the girls take a break. “I really love this whole masquerade theme.” Yiyang says as she eats.

“Yeah unnie you did a really good job with this.” Chaoxing says smiling as she looks at Renesmee. “Huh unnie?”

Renesmee lays there not moving and the girls look over. “Unnie?” Roxay says walking over to her.

As Roxay reaches out to touch Renesmee Jisoo runs over stopping her. “Don’t touch her.” Jisoo says seeing Renesmee laying there crying.

“What’s going on?” Moka asks looking at Jisoo. Jisoo sighs shaking her head watching them.

“She doesn’t sleep for a reason.” Jisoo says looking at them. Renesmee turns over getting shaky as she sleep.

Their managers walk in looking at them. Renesmee cries out as she starts shaking. Jisoo walks over to her bag looking inside.

“Where is it.” Jisoo groans throwing stuff out her bag.

“What’s going on with Renesmee?” One of their managers asks. Renesmee cover her head with her arms as she starts screaming.

Jisoo jumps up grabbing the trash bin running over to Renesmee. “Renesmee hey wake up it’s just a dream.” Jisoo calls out trying to pull her arms down.

Renesmee gasp feeling Jisoo grab her arms. Jisoo pushes her hair back watching her. Renesmee sits there before leaning over and Jisoo grabs the bin holding it up as Renesmee starts throwing up.

Jisoo rubs Renesmee back waiting for her to calm down. “It’s okay Nessie.” Jisoo says as Renesmee coughs trying to catch her breath.

“You know I didn’t know it was this bad.” One of their managers says folding his arms looking at them.

“You knew about this?” Jisoo asks looking at him. Renesmee grips Jisoo arm closing her eyes.

“Yeah after her last pass out accident I had a talk with her mom.” He says tilting his head as he rubs his face.

“It wasn’t always this bad; she didn’t used to throw up.” Jisoo says looking back at Renesmee. “Here slow breaths.” She says holding up plushie.

Renesmee turns her head smelling the air and she opens her eyes. She reaches out grabbing the plushie smelling it. “Can someone please tell us what’s going on?”

“Nessie doesn’t sleep because she has night terrors why worse than nightmares.” Jisoo says standing up looking at the girls. “She thinks it has to do with her past.”

“I guess that explains why she is forever working on something.” Eunjin says folding her arms across her chest.

“With that being said you’re done.” One of the other managers says stepping forward. “You will only be allowed to practice with the girls until we say otherwise.”

“Wait what you can’t do that!” Renesmee says getting up but Jisoo pulls her back down. They all look at her worried as she grips her fist.

“Unnie we care about you so please take a break.” Roxay says sitting next to her. Renesmee sighs looking at her lap.

“Fine.”

“Go get change and I’ll take you back to the dorm.” Her manager says looking at her. “Film whatever she’s not in, we’ll get the rest next week.”

Renesmee leaves going to get changed before heading back to the dorm.

July 10, 2019

Rosalie looks at Renesmee as she sits there. “Do you want to try the sleeping pills again?” She asks and Renesmee sighs shaking her head. “Well what do you want?”

“I want my memory; I want to know why I keep hearing these voices in my dreams.” Renesmee speaks folding her arms laying on the couch.

“Look I’m just stress okay in three days we start our tour I’m fine.”

Rosalie moves closer sitting down next to Renesmee head. “I understand I just don’t want you hurt yourself.” She says pushing her hair out her face.

“So are you okay?”

Renesmee sighs looking at her mother. “I told you I was fine.” She replies laying her head on her lap.

Rosalie shakes her head watching her. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She speaks and Renesmee hums looking up at her. “I mean with him not being here.”

“You act like he left the country.” Renesmee says tilting her head. “He’s just doing his 2 years.”

“Yeah but you really haven’t come to terms with your feelings.” Rosalie says watching her and Renesmee sighs looking away. “Wether you like it or not; he loves you and only wants you.”

“I know that.” Renesmee says folding her arms. “Trust me he has made it very clear.” She adds sitting up and her mom turns to face her.

“Okay so you know; so what are you going to do?” She asks tilting her head to the side. “Because I can still see the uncertainty in your eyes; you love him and I see and feel it from you.”

“It’s just you’re scared and I honestly don’t know why.”

Renesmee gets up off the couch going to the kitchen. Rosalie sighs watching her before putting a box on the table. “You want your memory back and you want to be with him; but you’re stopping yourself from having anything.”

Rosalie speaks standing grabbing her bag. “I understand you’re scared and that’s okay but in order for things to make itself clear you need to face your fears.”

Renesmee looks up hearing the door close as she grabs her drink. She walks back to the couch sitting down. “What is this?”

Renesmee tilts her head reaching for the box. She picks up the box placing it on her lap running her hand across the top of it.

“My greatest fears?”

Renesmee reads the top of the box humming. She opens the box looking inside. “What?”

Renesmee pulls the book out looking at it. “Well I like the look of it.” She says looking at the black and red book tilting her head.

“Book of fears?”

Renesmee opens the book and hums seeing it empty. She looks back in the box seeing a few notes. She pulls one out reading it.

‘Fill out the letters and the book; you might just find the answers you want.’

“I swear my mom is so weird; what does she even do?” Renesmee groans putting the book back in the box before going to her room.

She places the box on her desk sighing. Renesmee pulls the next letter out opening it. She walk around reading the letter as she gets her clothes.

‘I’m sure you are wondering why I gave you this box; your grandma did the same to me when me and your father were dating.

So I want you to really be honest on do what’s in the box; I promise it will help you. I know it helped me with your father.’

Renesmee shakes her head with a smirk. “If it helped then where is he.” She says putting the letter back closing the box.

She puts her clothes down walking back to the door to make sure it’s locked. Renesmee hums turning off the extra lights going back to her room.

Renesmee walks into her bathroom getting ready for a shower.

July 11, 2019

“How did I know you would be up here this late?” One of the assistant says walking into the room smiling wickedly.

“Well we are about to start a tour and I need the to make sure I have everything down.” Renesmee says as she keeps dancing.

“It’s funny you all find out that my ribs healed but waited a week to start beating me again; you know makeup can only do so much.”

“This is true had to take the heat off of us; seeing how you seem to have a favorite manager.” He says walking deeper into the room.

Renesmee smirks shaking her head as she looks at him in the mirror. “I don’t have a favorite, I don’t know why he won’t just leave me be.” She says as she stops waiting for the next song.

“So again what can I do for you?” Renesmee asks pushing her hair back. “Want me to stand in the pouring rain again?”

“Just checking on your progress.” He says leaning against the wall. She nods and starts to dance again. “Hey I tried to change their mind about the standing in the rain.”

Renesmee scoffs still dancing. “Yeah well now I’m sick so I hope you’re happy.” She speaks as she goes over the lyrics in her head. He nods smiling as he watches folding his arms.

The assistant smiles as he starts talking about the others saying a few names here and there. Renesmee just smiles nodding her head as she listens to him. “You know out of all of us I really hated beating you.”

“I mean why mess up a cute face like that plus a smoking hot body.” He adds biting his lip and she just sighs. “But they’d paid me extra for today so…”

Renesmee hums as she turns and he reaches over throwing a ball at her. Renesmee screams hitting the floor holding her jaw.

“Wow I got the face first try that’s double extra on my pay.” He says walking over to her body. “But I did break the mirror so they may take out for that.”

Renesmee slowly backs up trying to get back. “Oh no where are you going.” He says grabbing her by the hair and she starts kicking trying to pull free.

“Come on let go!” She screams but he just kicks her in the stomach. “You can’t do this; you won’t get away with this.”

“Oh but I can and I will.” He says laughing as he kicks her again. “See it’s your word against ours.”

“And who’s going to believe a fat ugly *****.” He smirks pushing her head to the floor. He steps back looking at the blood.

“You think you’re safe because you got a few wins; and they are going on with the tour.”

Renesmee lays there crying as she covers her head curling into a ball. He clicks his tongue shaking his head. He continues to kick and stomp her.

“Think of this as a good luck beating and the last one, you made it so we’ll leave you alone.”

He says looking back over at the door seeing it open. “Alright let’s go now; hey make sure you clean up your blood this time.” Another voice says seeing Renesmee on the floor.

They both leave laughing turning the lights off. “Why am I still alive?” Renesmee cries outs laying there in the dark.

Renesmee groans as she makes her way over to the hidden camera turning it off. “I told them they would pay for this.”

Renesmee coughs slowly making her way over to turn the lights back on. Once she packs her bag she starts to clean the floor. Renesmee sighs limping back over to her bag picking it up.

She calls for a cab once she gets outside. As she pulls her mask up covering her mouth she starts to text her manager.

[lovelykfics]

Destination Unknown - Part 7 - Final Part

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Pairing: Wonho x reader

Genre: Angst & Fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

Synopsis: You are best friends with Wonho but you don’t have the guts to actually tell him how you really feel. Let’s see how long you can hide it.

a/n: So here it is, the final part of the series! I sincerely thank each and everyone for taking the time to read it, I’m so thankful for every like, reply, and follow! Please enjoy!  <3 

There it was. The beautiful blue sky that sparkled and radiated, the clear and pure breeze that pierced your skin delicately. The beautiful flowers that you could see in the distance that danced in the wind. You were home. You took a deep breath as you stepped off of the train, pulling your luggage with you. Your earbuds were in and you were listening to your favorite song. Sometime during the train ride you ended up turning your phone on ‘do not disturb’ because you got tired of Wonho spamming you.

You got into a taxi, and gave the driver the directions to your old home. On the car ride to your parents house, you passed by familiar shops and places you used to play as a kid. The car ride was long, since it was somewhat far from the train station, but it didn’t bother you. You saw no Monsta X billboards, no advertisements, and no posters on your way home, and it made you feel good. You took a deep breath, and exhale, feeling as if you were escaping that crowded city. This is what you needed.

Once you reached your parents house, there was this filling in the pit of your stomach. You haven't seen your parents in a while, so you were happy to see them. But then you started laughing to yourself. “Haha, I forgot to let them know I was even coming, I just huffed my way here without even thinking.” You told yourself, still laughing at your mistake. “Well, there’s no turning back now.” You whisper, and hold your head up. You approach the front door, and ring the buzzer. Shortly, you hear a voice answer, and recognize it immediately.

“Who is it?” Your mother says. “Hello mother!” You announce. Then the front door swings open and your mom looks at you with a happy smile. “I missed you! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She says as she pulls you into a hug. “It was sort of last minute…” You chuckle, and sigh. “Well come in, come in! Your dad should be home from work within the hour!” She said as she grabbed your luggage and invited you in, shutting the door behind you.

She lead you to your old room, still the same as the last time you visited. “Go ahead and unpack, I’m finishing up dinner.” She said, a bright smile on her face. “Thanks mom!” You yell over to her as she walks out and closes the door. 

You spot a picture on your desk, of you and Wonho. There were framed photos of a lot of your friends, the boys included, but the one with just you and Wonho was your favorite of course. You walked over to it and put it faced down, not wanting to look at it. You then unpack, putting your clothes into your dresser. There was also some clothes and shoes in your closet that you left from last time. When you were done, you sat on your bed, and smiled. You were home. You were gonna stay here and recharge your happy battery, then get back to work eventually.

“Dinner’s ready!” Your mom shouts to you. “Coming!” You yell back. You sit with your mom at the table and she sets all of the food down. Right as your mom took her seat, you hear the front door open, and see your father hanging his jacket up, and putting his keys on the key holder. He turns around and his jaw drops when he sees you. “Dinner’s ready!” You say to him. 

“My y/n is home!” He exclaims happily, then takes a seat at the table. “How long will you be staying with us?” He asks, happy. “Not sure, but for a while.” You respond, a smile on your face.

You all began eating, chatting, and just catching up. “How are the boys?” Your mom asks. This makes your heart skip a bit, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “They’re doing well mom, I’ll let them know you asked.” You say smiling. “What about that sweet boy. Hoseok was it? I liked him.” She asks. You start coughing a bit. “Oh him? He’s doing good too.” You say, not meeting her eyes this time. 

Your dad notices your changed expression, and asks about work instead. The boys and you were all close, that even on some of their vacation days, they would come down with you to visit your parents, so your mom and dad knew them well. Also, if anyone knew about your feelings for Wonho, it was definitely your parents. They could see the sparkle in your face when you were near him, the cheerfulness in your voice when you would talk to him, and the love in your eyes when you would gaze at him. They knew all too well.

You all conversed a bit more, then after dinner you did the dishes for your mom. After that, you went to your room after saying goodnight, and sat on your bed. You pull out your phone, and decide to face-time Jooheon since you forgot to do it earlier.

The phone rings for a while but he finally answers, and you're met with him panting and running from something. “Go away!” You hear him yell, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. “Sorry, Minhyuk was chasing me. Hello!” He says, a precious smile on his face. 

You start laughing. “Where are you?” You ask. 

“On the bathroom floor, it was the only unoccupied room.” He says laughing. You both talk for awhile and crack jokes and just laugh together, it was fun. “I miss you.” He suddenly says. 

“I saw you earlier today though!” You exclaim, chuckling. He’s a bit flustered but laughs it off with you. You both say goodnight, and eventually end the phone call. You get into pajamas, lay down in your bed, and catch sight of the turned over photo on your desk. “I hope you’re okay Wonho, goodnight.” You mutter. Then you close your eyes, and drift off into slumber.

Three weeks later, you’re still at your parents place. They definitely notice something is off with you. Of course you still talk to them, and smile, and laugh, but you seem a bit different. When you talk, it’s short. When you smile, it’s sad. When you laugh, it’s empty. You spend time with them, but your aura had changed from your last visit. You have been sleeping a lot more lately, clinging to your bed. They knew that was your way of coping and dealing with things at times. They wondered what in the world upset their little girl so much.

You were asleep in your bed, when your mom entered your room to get your laundry. She turned the desk light on so she could properly see, when a frame that was faced down and thrown to the side caught her attention. She flipped it over to see the picture of you and Wonho. That’s when it hit her. “Oh...my poor baby.” She whispered to herself. So it has something to do with him, huh? She thought to herself. She looked over to you, sighed, then proceeded to pick up your laundry. When she left your room, she pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her contacts.

Back at the Monsta X dorm, Wonho had locked himself his room. He seemed tough, but he was like a small child in time-out, he felt like he was being punished.

“Hyung, can we talk?” Changkyun’s voice says through the door, followed by his light knocks. Even though he and the boys tried several times, Wonho didn’t budge, and would remain quiet. But after a while, Jooheon starting to feel bad, trudged his way to the door, and knocked loudly. “Open up.” He said, making himself known. To the boys surprise, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened. Jooheon walked in, shut the door behind him, then joined Wonho in sitting on the bed.

“What do you want?” He asks Jooheon, with little emotion and not looking at him.

“I know you love her.” Jooheon says. It’s silent for a bit after that, but Wonho breaks the silence with a sigh.

“What do you know?” Wonho says, scoffing.

“Look, I know you’re beating yourself up about this, but if you really cared, you should have confessed to her sooner instead of leaving it alone.” Jooheon explains.

“How’s that going to help now? I know you know where she is, why can’t you just tell me?” Wonho says, angry.

“Sorry, I promised.” He responds. The air is thick with tension, and it’s quiet. “I love her.” Jooheon says out of nowhere, causing Wonho to look at him, confused.

“What did you just say?” He asks Jooheon.

“I said I love her, I’ve always loved her, since I first met her I think. She’s an extraordinary woman, she’s everything a person could want and need in their life, I would do anything for her. But then I messed up, and introduced her to you.” He says, looking down at his hands. “I love her so much...and yet, she loves you.” He says softly, then looks up at Wonho, meeting his eyes.

“Why? Why does she love me? I don’t get that part. I’ve brought so many other girls around her, and I continuously hurt her, but she always helped me. How can she still love me?” Wonho asks, defeated, pain in his voice.

“Honestly, I have no idea dude, but she does, and even though it’s been about  month, I know for a fact she still does. I can see how sad she is when we video chat, I can see how much she misses you, not me. So whatever you do, I’m asking you to fix it. Because I love her, and because I want her to happy, I’m asking you to please man up and show that you love her too. Act fast, or I’m going after her myself.” Jooheon says, finishing his piece. He then gets up, places a hand on Wonho’s shoulder to show him support, then walks out of the room.

Almost as if planned, Wonho’s phone begins to ring. He gets up and pats his pockets in a rush, hoping it would be you. He finds his phone, then reads the caller ID. “Y/n’s mom?” He says to himself, then answers. “Hello?” He says. “Hello, Hoseok?” She asks. “Yes ma’am, what can I do for you?” He responds. “Y/n is here, and has been here for the past few weeks. I don’t know what happened between the both of you, but she’s devastated. She’s like a ghost. Can you come over?”

Wonho’s eyes widen in shock. “S-She’s at your house?” He stutters. 

“Yes, did she not tell you?” She replies. He falls back on his bed, and places his hand on his heart. “Thank goodness, I was so worried...” He trails off. “Yes I can come over, I’m on my way!” He beams. 

“Oh good! See you in a couple hours then, be safe!” She says, happy. They both then hang up.

Wonho quickly gets dressed, throwing on any hoodie and jeans. He grabs a backpack and throws his phone charger, and clothes to sleep in just in case he has to stay the night, then he runs out of his room. The members had shocked faces as they noticed him finally out of his room. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunwoo asks first. 

“Better than okay!” He says, putting his shoes on and about to run out. 

“Where are you going?” Jooheon asks. 

Wonho smiles, a real smile. “I’m going to fix it. For real this time.” He says, then turns around and runs off. 

“What does he mean?” Hyunwoo asks.

“I guess he figured out where y/n was.” Jooheon responds, and sighs, a small, sad smile on his face. I wish you luck, my friend. He says in his thoughts. Then walks to his room and closes the door behind him.

Meanwhile, at your parents house, your mom just finished the call with Wonho. She questioned whether inviting him over was the right thing to do, but at this point, she was desperate for anything just to make you feel better.

After about two hours, she gets a message from Wonho saying he just got off the train and is in a taxi, and about 20 minutes away. Your mom heads over to you. “Time to wake up!” She yells as she enters your room. She turns on the lights and pulls the blankets off of you. You roll over and put your face in the sheets, hiding from the light. “No..I’m tired…” You mumble softly. 

“Well I need you to go to the store for me, help me please.” Your mom says, taking a seat on your bed. You slowly drag yourself up as a yawn emerges from inside of you. “Fine, what do you need mom?” You ask, sleepily. She pulls out a sticky note and writes down a list. “Here you go, thank you.” Your mom says, then leaves the room.

You get up and grab a random pair of jeans and a hoodie. You walk into the living room and put your shoes on. “I’ll be back!” You say to your mom. “Okay, be safe!” She says back, then you walk to the bus stop to go to the market. You get there after about 10 minutes, and quickly find everything on the list after about another 10 minutes. “Why do all of these ingredients seem familiar? Well, whatever.” You whisper to yourself.

You get back on the bus, bags in hand, and make your way home. About half-way home, you get a text message from your mom.

“Your dad is taking me out on a date, it’s been a while! Sorry for sending you to the store!”

You smile, and respond with, “It’s okay mom, have fun!”

Finally, the bus arrives at your stop, and you get out of your seat, and head to the bus door. You thank the bus driver, then you plop your earbuds back in, not really paying attention to your surroundings. Holding your bags, you finally look up, not wanting to bump into anyone, but you halt your steps, and you stand there frozen, in complete shock. No, this is not happening. You think to yourself.

“Hey y/n, I missed you.” Wonho says softly. His perfect hair, his beautiful eyes, his cute smile, his everything, stood right there before you, and you couldn’t believe it. Mom you snake! You thought to yourself, internally panicking. “Let me help you.” He says as he walks to you and takes all the bags from your hands and you let him, too shocked to do anything. He starts walking to your house which was close by the bus stop, and unlocks the door for you. “Your mother gave me the key, she told me to come.” He says nervously.

In his point of view, he waited anxiously by the bus stop for you. When he saw you make your way off of the bus, his nervousness increased but when he made eye contact with you, he softened. He could tell you weren’t expecting him.

When you both walked inside your house, you kept walking. “Where are you going?” He asked. You simply ignored him and went straight to your room, and locked the door. He called after you but you didn’t answer. He asked if he could come in, but you didn’t budge. The fact that this man was standing outside your room scared you. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

After a few attempts, he finally gave up and went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. He began to cook, figuring you were hungry, but it was also another attempt to get you to come out. You tried calling your mom to see what the meaning of this was, but no answer. You sat on your bed, and ponder your strategy. You were kind of panicking, I mean, you haven't seen him in forever and then he pops up out of the blue and is like, ‘Hey what’s up’ so what were you supposed to do?

After a long while of thinking, a beautiful aroma fills the air and you notice as the scent rolls past your nose. Is that what I think it is? You think, smelling the scent of your favorite dish, and that’s when it hit you. All of those ingredients your mom had you buy earlier, they were to make your favorite dish, that’s why they seemed to familiar. 

You sigh, smiling a sad smile at the floor. “He cooked for me. I can’t be rude.” You say to yourself, then you get up and pat yourself down. You walk over to your door, placing a hand filled with a bit of hesitation onto your knob. “Just stay calm.” You whisper, then you slowly open the door, and you see him setting the table.

“You hungry?” He asks, a nervous smile on his face.

“Thanks.” You say, and take a seat. There’s this happy feeling inside as you begin eating. It was your favorite dish after all.

For a long time, it was silent. You both ate. Wonho sat there, his thoughts a mess, because the thought of having dinner today with you never even crossed his mind. But there was a question he was meaning to ask.

“Why haven't you called me?” he suddenly asked.

You look up at him, not sure what to say at first. “Why do you think?’’ You answer, continuing to eat your food. “Honestly, after everything that has been happening, obviously you’re the last person I want to talk to.” You say, words cutting him like a knife. You pick up your cup and take a drink.

“But we’re still close friends, do you have any idea how worried I was?” He asks, raising his voice.

“Yeah, and?” You scoff, and slam your cup down. “Do you have any idea how broken I was?” You fire back.

He’s taken aback. “I’m sorry, I never meant to make-” He starts.

You start laughing, cutting him off. “You shouldn’t do things that you’ll end up being sorry for in the end.” You say sternly. “I endured a lot, you know that? I thought that simply being your friend and being able to help you and being there for you when you needed me or advice on girls was enough. But it’s not enough, and I’m not enough, and I don’t think I ever will be enough for you. But that’s okay. I just need more time to myself, and I’ll bounce back into the same old me, I promise. I need to heal. Please, just let me heal.” You say, looking up at him and smiling. But even though he could see the smile, he noticed how empty and torn down it was.  

“Thank you for the food, now please go home.” You say, then get up.

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to stop you but his body was frozen in place. I don’t deserve her. He told himself. He watched as you walked away, and as if it was a last desperate attempt, he got up and ran to you, enveloping you in his arms. “Please don’t walk away from me.” He whispered, as he rested his head on your shoulder.

That was it. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you, the warmth that was emitted from him. You still loved him and that scared you to death. Tears began flowing from your eyes. Having him hold you was everything you dreamed of, but under these circumstances, it just made your heart burn. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” You say, your voice cracking.

“I’m sorry.” He says, then lets you go. “Look, I know I’m in no position to tell you anything right now, but I have to get this off of my chest.” He starts. “I am so very sorry, that I made you wait alone, and so sorry that I made you go through heartbreak after heartbreak, you don't deserve this at all. There are so many things I can apologize for, but most of all, I’m sorry for not realizing my feelings sooner, and being too much of a coward to tell you how I feel.” He continues. “When you told me you loved me all those many weeks ago, I was so shocked. I never thought a girl as perfect, beautiful, and precious as you could love me, so I’m sorry for hurting you.” You stood there, back still facing him, unable to comprehend what he was saying. “Finally, I just wanted to say..” He says, turning you around to face him. “I love you, y/n. I love you with all of my heart. Please come home soon.’’ He finishes, then kisses your forehead. He then picks up his backpack, and walks out, shutting the door behind him. He catches a taxi, and asks to be taken to the train station.

Your knees give out and you fall to the floor. A sob escapes your throat as you remain on the floor for quite some time. About thirty minutes pass and you hear the front door open. You look up, hoping for Wonho, but you see your mother and father instead. She rushes to you. “What happened?!” She exclaims, worried. So you told her, you told her everything. How everything with Wonho began, to your stalker, to the other girl, and then what just happened. 

“Do you still love him?” She asks. You sit there and nod, your shoulders slumped. “Then don’t let this opportunity go by. You’ve been through so much already, and now you can have him if you want. I say you get him in the palm of your hand, and don’t ever let your happiness go.” She says. 

You go to your room and take a seat at your desk. You look at the frame that’s faced down and put it back up. You gaze at it, you both looked so happy in the picture. Aside from all the hurt he brought you, there was a feeling that overcame it. Bliss. When you were with him, you felt safe, as strange as that sounds. “I love him.” You say to yourself. You get up and pull out your suitcase and fill your clothes up. “I love him.” You say again, then you pick up the frame of you both and put it in your suitcase too. You get dressed, put your shoes on, and walk into the living room, suitcase in hand. You look at your parents. “I love him, I love him so much.” You say to them. You hug them goodbye. “Good luck.” They say, then you nod your head and rush out of the door. You call over a taxi and quickly get in. “Train station, and please hurry.” You say. The driver nods and steps on the gas.

Wonho sat on a bench, waiting for the train to come. “It should get here soon.” He said, then got up, getting ready for it. “No running!!” He heard someone yell, but ignored it. “Sorry!” The person said. He could've sworn it sounded like you, but shook his head in disbelief. 

“Hey!” The voice got closer, followed by huffing. He turns his head, and sees you bent over, hands on your knees, and catching your breath. “You didn’t let me respond to your confession.” You say, standing up and taking steps towards him. 

“Why are you here?” Is all he managed to get out. You stood in front of him. “To do this.” You say, then you wrap your arms around his neck, and connect your lips to his. His eyes widen in shock, but soon he calms down and returns the kiss. His arms find their way to your waist and he gets rid of any space between you guys. The kiss is soft and pure, and you both feel sparks and a tingly sensation in your heart.

After a bit longer, you both pull away. “Does this mean you like me too?” He suddenly says, and this causes you to laugh. “Did kissing you not say that loud and clear?” You giggle. “No, I think we should try again.” He joked, then kissed you again. His lips were soft and fit you perfectly. You were in heaven and felt nothing but bliss.

This is how your night ended. You got on the train to go back with him. You held hands and snuggled closer as you fell asleep on each other. Once you got back you both went to the dorm and everyone was ecstatic to see you again. You no longer felt empty. “I’m happy for you both.” Jooheon said genuinely.

Cut to later that night, you and Wonho were laying in your bed at your place. The picture frame of you guys sat on your shelf. He held you close and told you he loved you, for like the millionth time so far.

This whole journey was a roller-coaster of emotions, and even though the destination was unknown, you ended up happy, and content.

So even if you may be hurt in the end, there’s always the chance that you’ll end up satisfied, so tell that special someone how you really feel, and don’t be afraid to be who you are.

The end.

[i-see-thevision]

Not So Fast (Part 3)

Genre: Angst/fluff eventually; high school!au

Pairing: Haechan x reader (ft. the rest of dream)

Summary: You and Haechan were best friends in middle school, practically inseparable. But when he becomes known as the mischievous bad boy in High School, your parents forbid you from seeing him. However, that doesn’t stop him from seeing you.

A/N: This is it you guys!! After this I’m gonna focus on some one shots. Now go request, I need ideas fam.

Part 1 // Part 2

- - -

You were currently in your kitchen, sitting at the island. Your parents were arguing about some deal that fell through at the company they both work for. You were finishing up an essay on your laptop, but your parents excessive yelling was making that difficult.

“That’s not the problem! The problem is that you, for whatever reason, think it’s my fault?!” Your mom yells at your dad.

You just sigh in exasperation, closing your laptop to bring it upstairs to your bedroom. That’s about the only place you’re going to find quiet so you can concentrate.

But before you could leave the kitchen, your mom decided to be annoying as hell. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” She questions, breaking away from her argument with your dad momentarily.

“To my room? I can’t concentrate with all your noise.” You scoffed, done with their antics. You could have been nicer, but quite honestly, you are fed up with their shit.

“Excuse you? Who do you think you’re talking to?” Your dad but in, clearly offended. 

You rolled your eyes and let out another sigh.

“I thought I told you to stay away from that Donghyuck kid, yet you’re still acting like this.” Your mom accused. Clearly not pleased. 

“I haven't even seen him since you told me to stay away from him.” You lied, easily. Convincing lies was a skill you picked up from Hyuck, how ironic.

“Then would you care to explain the attitude?” She retaliated. You squinted you eyes in irritation. But before you had another outburst, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little stressed with school right now.” You lie again. 

Your parents both sighed and looked at each other, their gazes softening.

“Alright, that’s understandable. You’re dismissed.” Your mom finally said as if you were their maid or something. It took all your will power not to flip the fuck out.

You didn't say anything, you just turned around and went upstairs to your room. Taking the steps two at a time to get there faster.

As soon as you entered your bedroom, you shut the door behind you, leaning against it. You let out what seemed to be the hundredth sigh today and walked over to your bed, setting your laptop down on your desk along the way. 

You plopped down on your bed with a huff, rubbing your hands over your face. Your window was cracked open so you could feel the slight breeze outside, doing what it could to calm you. You then decided to resume writing your essay for another three hours, finally finishing it around midnight and shutting your laptop with a sigh of relief.

You stood from your bed, picking up your laptop and placing it on your desk. but as soon as you put it down, you heard a sound come from behind you. whipping your head around in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” You said quietly, hoping for no response.

Silence.

You turned back around to face your desk.

“Oh hello.” 

You screamed, nearly having a heart attack. 

Spinning around with your hand on your chest, you came face to face with Donghyuck, who looked quite pleased with himself.

“What the hell are you doing? How did you even get in here?” Your questions flew, along with your heart rate.

“You should really lock your windows.” He smirked, coming closer to you. 

But before he could get too close, there was a knock on your bedroom door.

“HIDE.” You whisper yelled, while shoving him into your closet.

You took a second to calm yourself down before opening the door to reveal your mother. 

“Are you okay? I heard screaming?” She actually looked concerned for your wellbeing for once. How nice.

“No yeah I’m sorry. I’m fine, it was just a spider.” You were getting really good at this whole lying thing. 

With a nod of understanding and a “goodnight” she left your room. You quickly closed the door, running over to your closet door and opening it.

“What a good little liar I’ve created.” Donghyuck grinned, walking out of your closet. You wouldn't admit how much you liked hearing him say that.

“What are you doing here, Hyuck?” You ask again, not receiving an answer the first time.

“What? I can’t visit my girlfriend at midnight by sneaking in through her window?” The devilish smirk put butterflies in your stomach. 

Wait a second.

“I’m sorry w-what?! Girlfriend?!” You stuttered, this news hitting you like a truck.

“Yeah?” He chuckled as if it was obvious. 

“Donghyuck we never had a conversation about this?” You explained, earning another chuckle from him.

“Y/n, I think what happened in that closet at school made it obvious enough.” He took a step closer to you, hooking his fingers in your belt loops, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah but you never formally asked me out.” You point out, trying to stop the smile that was ultimately spreading across your lips. Donghyuck tugged you closer.

“Okay y/n, will you be by girlfriend?” He playfully rolled his eyes, pulling you to the point of there being only inches between you. 

“Even though my parents basically hate you?” You teased, knowing that wouldn't matter to him. 

“Well I guess we’ll just have to up our sneaking game. And make sure to take advantage of every moment we have together.” He said, his voice lowering to just above a whisper before placing his lips on yours. 

You immediately kissed back, mouths melding like they were meant to be on each other. You felt complete in this moment, and you knew he felt it too. But you pulled away from him abruptly when you realized you never answered him.

“What’s wrong?” His concerned face made your heart skip a beat.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend... Because I love you, Donghyuck.” You confessed looking deeply into his eyes, sincerely meaning every word you spoke. The look in Donghyuck’s eyes seemed to shift at your words. 

“Say it again.” He said softly, not so much a command but more of a plea. 

“I love you Donghyuck-” You barely got his name out before his lips crashed down to yours. His hands slid from your hips to your waist, walking you backwards until the back of your thighs hit your desk. You let out a startled moan at the feeling.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He breathed, his grip on your waist tightening. He then lifted you up to sit you on your desk. You yelped at the sudden action.

“God I fucking love you.” He continued before standing in between your legs, grabbing the back of your knees and tugging you as close as possible to him.

His hands returned your waist as his tongue slipped into your mouth, mingling with yours. The fight for dominance ended quickly as you were enjoying Donghyuck being in charge. Your hands migrated to around his neck, tugging lightly at his hair as his tongue sought to explore every inch of your mouth.

You let out a gasp as you felt his hands travel higher underneath your shirt. He smirked against your lips at your reaction. The kiss didn't break as his fingers danced slowly along your skin, his thumbs tracing lines underneath your bra. 

“I think its time for this to come off.” He tugged on your shirt, the smirk never leaving his devilishly angelic face. Without hesitation you nodded, and he had tugged your shirt over your head and thrown it onto the floor.

“You’re gorgeous.” He said in awe, taking in your body and committing it to memory. His lips met your jaw line, feathering kisses along the skin there. Slowly his lips traveled to your neck, eliciting a breathy sigh from you. You tilted your head to the side to allow him more access. He suddenly reached that sensitive spot on your neck, just above your collar bone. He started sucking and nipping lightly there. His tongue soothing his bites. Once he was satisfied with his work of art, he pulled back to admire it. But only momentarily until his lips found your skin again.

He scattered his love bites all over your chest, marking you as his. The satisfied growl that left his lips at the sound of your moans sent a pleasure filled wave down your spine. Soon enough his lips found their way back to your own. He kissed you hard, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip. Your mind was racing, your emotions were in overdrive. Kissing Donghyuck felt like getting hit by lightning. The electricity that was in the air, that was flowing through you, it was like nothing you have ever experienced before. It felt freeing. It felt sobering.

It felt right.

Soon you both separated to catch your breath. Chests heaving and foreheads pressed together. Donghyuck’s hand rested on your cheek, softly swiping his thumb back and forth underneath your left eye.

“That was even better than I had imagined.” He finally said. 

“Yeah, it was.” You breathed, arms still around his neck.

“That better happen all the time.” He smirks, to which you chuckle. 

“Well I'm your girlfriend now so I think it might.” You winked, smile growing wider. Donghyuck’s smile grew as well while he bent down to pick up your shirt, placing it back over your head and helping you put the rest of it back on. 

“Well I’m looking forward to it.” He kissed your forehead, then looked at your window and then back at you. You knew he was going to have to leave at some point, it was probably almost one in the morning and you guys had school tomorrow. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, love.” He said sweetly. You hummed in response. He gave you one last kiss on your lips before climbing out your bedroom window. 

You let a content sigh leave your lips before sliding off your desk and climbing into your bed. The night’s endeavors running through your mind. And you eventually fell asleep with a smile gracing your features. You guys could make this work because, you didn't care if your parents disapproved.

All you care about is Donghyuck.

And all he cares about is you.

- - -

A/N: WOW WE REACHED THE END OF THIS MINI SERIES. I hope you guys enjoyed this series!! Thank you so much for reading! 

I love you, my lovelies. <3 -kd 

[justicecaballer]

i thought about lisa lisa and jotaro today and it turned into like... a pseudo fic proposition that turns into a part 3 rewrite 

i’m like in no position to talk about jotaro YET i feel, because i haven’t finished part 3 or whatever other parts he may be in but i think it would be SO easy for him to be. different. with just a few minor tweaks. that i don’t go into here, but anyway. (there’s a fic rec below the cut there also)

author of this fic in the comments: imagine lisa lisa with jotaro

me, my heart crushed because i've been presented with perfection and denied it in one blow:

god no that would be so good though. she'd put him in his place but like also i think their interactions would be SUPER interesting cause neither are all that forthcoming but i think they’re like... very similar in that, but the causes of it are totally different and

lisa lisa is stoic with an undercurrent of positive energy and jotaro is stoic with an undercurrent of negative energy

i feel like jotaro would actually take what she says to heart / internalize / uhh whats the word. he doesnt respect anybody but he'd respect her because she's bad*ss and so similar to him, outwardly. jotaro doesnt care about what anybody says until lisa lisa tells him hes acting shamefully and he doesnt say anything but inside hes like oh..dam

my fic where holly is like my grandmother is coming to visit, i think you’d like her! please be on your best behavior jotaro kun! and hes like tch dont tell me what to do b*cnh... like i give a crap about some old hag

and his mom is mentions off-hand a couple stories she heard about her growing up and it's unbelievable but also very vague and jotaro's like yeah right. anyway

and then joseph comes to visit too it's a family thing. and holly is like papa where's grandma? and joseph's like oh we were supposed to catch the same flight from uhhh venice or something but her flight in got delayed so she’s on her own. and holly's like oh no! isn't she too old to be traveling alone? and joseph's like (hearty laugh) she'll be fine and then later joseph tells jotaro some more stories about her and jotaro's like ok.......................whatever leave me alone but then she finally shows up and its like wtf. why is this woman 20. isn’t she my great grandmother

ok maybe at this point she looks like... 40

so anyway lisa lisa and jotaro in the same room is like 2 icebergs and he just kind of stares at her for a little bit and is like tch... i dont see what the big deal is and her eyes narrow a little bit and shes like nice to meet you too, jotaro kun.

and jotaros still not impressed but then at some point maybe danger happens or maybe shes just training in the yard but she shows off her MAD SKILLZ and hes like huh. ok. maybe you aint just a useless old woman after all

and she like IDK hardens some blades of grass into razors and shoots them at his head, stopping them right before they hit and is like "you'd do well not to judge something something bla bla bla" its very cool and kind of chastising and hes like .............sure. and walks away

anyway at some point jotaros being a douche about whatever current situation is happening (this is probably the beginning or just before the beginning of the part 3 rewrite) and lisa lisa calls him out on it because he's a stupid bratty teen who thinks he knows everything and even though he is smart admittedly and he can punch things pretty hard he has a lot to learn about RESPECT and also. combat. and teamwork? and consideration. you don’t have to like everyone or follow all the rules or whatever else doesn’t align with your worldview but take a second to think about others and how you impact them and how they impact you. be appreciative. you never know when you'll lose someone you care about and then it's too late for should-haves and would-haves

and maybe he thinks about his mom on the floor, sweating and shivering on the kitchen tile. maybe he thinks about her in the other room, burning up with fever. maybe he thinks, “it’s her own dam fault for not learning whatever sh***y joestar magic was passed down to her” but maybe it’s accompanied by an unease, a shifting in his gut, a tension in his shoulders when he thinks of the empty space behind him as he leaves for school in the morning.

when they leave for egypt, he glances at lisa lisa from the corner of his eye. she has her shades on, and she is unreadable as ever, poised and cool in the back seat of the car. he was always annoyed whenever his mother told him he reminded her of her father, of her grandmother, but he can, grudgingly, see it. he knows they’re cut from the same cloth.

he spots the tightening of her lips and forces his jaw to unclench and maybe he finally starts to understand.

[latetothegreysparty]

Crop Tops and Hooker Heels

Hey y’all. Here’s the Omelia story with Addison and Charlotte that many of you have been asking about. It’s a bit shorter than I wanted it to be. Sorry about that. I wanted to post it tonight, but then I got sleepy, so I decided to just go with what I had. I hope you all like it.

Crop Tops and Hooker Heels

Amelia stalked down the hallway, fists clenching and jaw jutting out as she searched for the intern on her service. She had asked him to take a full history and physical. He had told her there was no significant, relevant past medical history. He had said nothing as she prescribed a heparin drip. Then, just as she was about to start the drip, she had discovered that the patient had been given heparin 2 years ago and had developed heparin-induced thrombocytopenia. Now she was about to go give that intern a piece of her mind.

“Dr. Brown,” Amelia bit out as she found the intern walking out of a patient’s room.

“Yes, Dr. Shepherd,” he responded casually as he crossed the hall to come stand next to her.

“Did your medical school teach its student how to perform a full history and physical?” she asked, making no attempt to keep the snark out of her voice.

The intern’s head snapped back a bit at the sharp tone she was taking. He had no idea what he had done to incur her wrath, but he was beginning to get the vague impression that he’d rather be anywhere other than here at the moment. “Yes, Dr. Shepherd.”

“Hmm,” she responded, tilting her head as she did so. “And they taught you, didn’t they, that past medical history is included in a full history?”

He still wasn’t exactly sure what he had screwed up, but now he was entirely sure that he’d like the floor to open up and swallow him. “Yes, Dr. Shepherd,” he whispered.

“Hmm,” she hummed again. “So would you care to explain to me why you neglected to inform me that our patient to whom I had prescribed a heparin drip had a history of HIT?”

Oh crap. He understood now why he was getting this lecture, and he was half tempted to take off running and not stop until he was outside the state of Washington. This was not good at all. “It seems I may have missed some important questions on the patient’s history,” he whispered, no longer attempting to make eye contact with Amelia.

“You think?!” she exclaimed, not caring at all that she was shouting at this point. “You’re a surgeon, Dr. Brown. I would appreciate it if you would act like you have a modest amount of common sense in the future. You’re on scut for the rest of the week, and you better be thanking your lucky stars that I’m feeling so merciful today. If I ever hear about you doing something this stupid again, regardless of whose service you’re on, this conversation will feel like a pep talk from your mom. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, actually shaking a bit at this point.

“Get out of my sight, then,” she grated out. She didn’t have to tell him twice. He nearly ran over a tech as he hastily retreated down the hall and around the corner. Amelia closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to calm the anger coursing through her veins.

As she leaned her right shoulder against the wall behind her, eyes still closed, she heard a voice no more than two feet behind her. “Geez, darling, why don’t you just tell him to run out back and cut a switch next time?” came the voice with a thick Southern drawl.

Amelia turned around to tell the lady where she could go stick her suggestions, but her eyes went wide when she saw who had made the comment. “Charlotte!” she squealed wrapping her arms tightly around her friend’s shoulders. “What are you doing in Seattle?”

Charlotte squeezed her back tightly and smiled. “I came out here to see how my favorite neurosurgeon was doing, and it seems like it’s a good thing I did. Are you always this pleasant to your interns, or is this the Thursday special?”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Charlotte, it’s not my fault he was being an idiot. Someone needed to set him straight, otherwise he’d kill somebody one of these days. Now seriously, what are you doing here?”

“There’s a patient in Grey-Sloan with a massive sacrococcygeal teratoma that requires fetal surgery,” Charlotte answered.

Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not a fetal surgeon.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Wow, Shepherd, you’ve always been observant, haven’t you?”

Just as Amelia was about to ask another question, she felt a pair of hands grab her shoulders from behind. “She’s not a fetal surgeon, but I am,” said the owner of the hands. 

“Addie!” Amelia squealed, turning around yet again to throw her arms around one of her friends that she hadn’t seen in far too long.

Addison smiled and laughed as she hugged Amelia. “Nice to see you too, Amelia.”

After she had hugged everyone to her heart’s content, Amelia turned to face both women and figure out exactly what was going on. “So Addie’s out here to do a fetal surgery,” she said, turning to face Addison who nodded in response to her question. “What’s Charlotte doing here?”

“I’m just along for the ride,” Charlotte replied. “Coop, Mason, and the girls are driving me a bit insane, so I needed to get away and relax.”

Amelia laughed. “Driving you? You were already insane,” she said, earning a slap to the shoulder from Charlotte. “Where are you guys staying? I can come grab you guys tonight for some dinner after I get off of my shift.”

Addison and Charlotte made eye contact for a moment before Addison began speaking. “Actually, we weren’t able to get a hotel on such short notice, so Owen offered to let us stay at his house. He even said he’d make dinner for us tonight. He told us that we should tell you you’re invited.”

Amelia’s mouth fell open. “So you’re just hanging out with my ex-husband while you’re in Seattle?” she asked incredulously.

“I thought you said you were still friends!” said Addison, now slightly worried that Amelia was upset about the arrangement.

“We are!” Amelia assured her. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you two in ages, and then you come to Seattle and hang out with Owen instead of me,” Amelia pouted, sticking out her bottom lip for maximum effect.

Charlotte let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, would you stop whining? Addison already told you that Owen invited you over for dinner tonight. Just come over for dinner so we can all catch up.”

Amelia rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Alright, fine, I’m coming. I have to go now, but I’m still mad at the two of you for not telling me you were coming to town.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes as Amelia walked away. It seemed she still had a bit of the dramatic streak she had in Los Angeles.

-

Owen stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room after placing dinner in the oven. As he came into the room, he could see Charlotte and Addison smiling as they looked at the pictures on the far wall. “You two are so cute!” Addison said, gesturing to a picture of Owen and Amelia dressed to the nines for a hospital fundraiser.

Owen smiled as he thought back to that night. Amelia had looked gorgeous in her black dress with her hair curled and her lips painted with a bright red lipstick. “She really does clean up nicely.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Yeah, that’s if you can get her to clean up.”

“What are you talking about?” Owen asked, confusion obvious on his face. “Amelia always dresses nicely.”

At this, both Charlotte and Addison started laughing. When Owen looked perplexed, Addison felt compelled to step in and explain. “Amelia used to prefer a more, um, casual style of dress.” Owen continued to merely stare back and forth between the two of them.

Seeing that he still wasn’t getting it, Charlotte decided to be a bit more direct. “Your ex-wife used to show up to work in crop tops and hooker heels, Owen,” she drawled out slowly, laughing as his eyes went wide.

“No way, not Amelia!” he said, certain that this must be a joke.

Both Addison and Charlotte laughed. “I think I’ve got pictures somewhere,” Addison said, scrolling through an old photo album on her phone. “Oh, here we go,” she said triumphantly, turning her phone around to show Owen. His jaw hung open as he stared at the photo. There was Amelia, smirking at the camera as she confidently wore a grey crop top and strappy black heels. She looked nothing like the Amelia he knew. This Amelia looked like a bit like a rebellious teenager who had stumbled into a hospital. He found it oddly endearing.

“She really dressed like that for work?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Addison said with a laugh. “It wasn’t a surprise, though. This is the same woman who stood in the elevator with me and said, ‘I need to get laid so bad I’m gonna run naked through the streets and grind a cop if something doesn’t happen soon.’”

Owen couldn’t hold it back any longer. He immediately burst out into loud laughter, bending over to hold his knees as he attempted to regain control over himself. It was at this precise moment that Amelia walked in. “What are we all giggling about?” she asked with a smile.

Charlotte smirked. “Oh nothing, just your crazy wardrobe and lack of a filter.”

Amelia covered her face with both hands and groaned. “No, please! Can we please not reminisce Amelia’s greatest hits? I thought you two were my friends!”

“We are!” exclaimed Addison. “And Owen is your friend too, so we owe it to him to make sure he really knows who you are. He wouldn’t know the real Amelia if he didn’t know about the time you overtly propositioned your coworker for sex right out at the front desk.”

Owen chose this moment to chime in. “You know, if you’ve had enough of the LA stories, Amelia, I could always share a few of my own. I’m sure Addison and Charlotte would love to hear about that one time the whole hospital heard you…”

“Oh my God, it smells like dinner is finished cooking,” Amelia interrupted. “We’d better get into the kitchen and pull it out of the oven before it burns.” Charlotte, Addison, and Owen all chuckled, but obediently dropped the conversation and followed Amelia into the kitchen.

Two hours later, once dinner had been eaten and Amelia had been sufficiently embarrassed by the retelling of all the craziest stories of her antics both in LA and in Seattle, she finally decided that it was time to call it a night and head home. Owen bade her good night with a hug and a promise to catch up with her later at the hospital, but Addison and Charlotte followed her to the door. “This was really nice,” Amelia said with a gentle smile, before adding with a playful glare, “well, other than the part where you all teamed up three on one to embarrass the hell out of me.”

Charlotte and Addison laughed. “We’ve missed you, Amelia,” Addison said with a tender smile. “You should come see us in LA sometime. Jake would love to catch up with you, and Henry is constantly talking about how much he misses his godmother.”

Amelia smiled softly at the mention of Henry. “I miss that little munchkin, too,” she agreed. “And Mason. I need to come back so he and Coop can tell me about all of the crazy things Charlotte has done since I moved away,” she said, throwing a wink in Charlotte’s direction. “Plus, I need to see those adorable girls who are no doubt driving you crazy. Anybody who can get under Charlotte King’s skin is worth hanging out with.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you just want to come back so you can laugh at my pain.” She waited for Amelia to laugh at her accurate characterization before softening her eyes and continuing. “Seriously, though, Amelia. We’ve missed you. Please come see us once in a while. So much has happened, both for you and for all of us, and we’d really love to have more time to catch up.”

“Yeah, me too,” Amelia agreed. “I’ll look at my schedule and figure out a time when I can come down there.”

Several minutes later, after copious goodbyes and hugs were exchanged, Addison and Charlotte shut the door and returned back into the house to find Owen sitting on the couch in the living room. “Thanks for housing us, Owen,” said Addison. “It’s really nice of you to open your home up to us, especially on such short notice.”

“Yeah, we really appreciate it,” Charlotte agreed. “And we appreciate you having Amelia over too. I’m glad that you two still get along, even after everything that’s gone on.”

Owen sighed deeply. “Yeah, I’m glad too. I can’t believe all that we’ve been through, all that she’s been through. Part of me feels like it’s my fault. It seems like ever since she met me, her life has just been one catastrophe after another. I swear I’m a curse or something.”

Charlotte let out a mirthless chuckle. “Oh no, honey, you’re not her curse. Her whole life has been cursed. What has she told you about her life in LA?”

“Not much,” Owen admitted. “I just know the basics: that she lost her baby, that she relapsed on the oxy, and that she was in love with a guy and woke up to find him dead. Was there more? What am I missing?”

Charlotte gave him a sympathetic smile. “That’s not our story to tell, Owen. She’ll tell you everything if and when she’s ready. It’s not our place to do that for her. Just know this: you had the privilege of being married to one of the strongest women on this planet. I’ve never known a person who has had more thrown at them by life than Amelia Shepherd, but she somehow manages to come back stronger every time. Treasure her for the beauty that she is. She’ll drive you nuts sometimes. Lord, don’t I know that. All of my biggest headaches professionally came from Amelia Shepherd. But she’ll also love you harder than anybody in the world, and she’ll show you how to grab life by the horns and own it. She really is a special woman, and everybody around her is lucky to have her. So please take care of her when we’re not here. She catches so much shit from life, and she deserves to have someone in her corner. Addie and I tried to be that for her in LA, but she needs someone in Seattle now.”

Owen nodded. “Yeah, she certainly does. I tried to be that for her when we were married, but I think I failed her.” Tears were forming in his eyes now. “That is my biggest regret from our marriage: I don’t think I ever fully gave her what she needed and deserved. I try to give her that as a friend now, but I don’t know if I’m really doing that. I often feel like she deserves better than me.”

Addison shook her head. “She loves you so much, Owen. She knows you love her too, and she appreciates that. We appreciate that. I know you both had your problems, but you’ve also given quite a bit to each other, and she’s thankful for that. I hope you are too.”

He nodded. “I am.”

The three stood there in the living room for a few moments, each staring in a separate direction as they thought about the woman who had caused their worlds to collide. After several minutes of thought, Charlotte finally broke the silence. “Well, it’s getting late, and Addie and I have an early morning tomorrow. We should probably be heading to bed. Thanks again for putting us up for the night, Owen. And thanks for what you do for Amelia. We really appreciate it.”

“It’s my honor to do it,” he whispered.

The three exchanged hugs before each heading off to their separate bedrooms to get some rest. As each of them settled in to go to sleep, they couldn’t help but be thankful that in all of the misfortune of Amelia’s life, at least she had the good fortune of having some pretty amazing people in her life.

[arnavsinghraizada]

Diary of a Sanka Devi - 2

I’m baaaaaaaaaaack! :) Find the prologue and Part 1 here

Operation Catch-A-Prince: Day 1 (still)

Dear Diary,

Arnav is not just a prince. He is a gentleman prince. A knight in shining armour, a … a - he’s like Prem from Hum Saath-Saath Hain if Prem was sarcastic and kind of mean. He’s quiet just like Prem is, but he doesn’t smile as much. That’s okay, one day when we’re married I’ll tease him about what a snob he was and he’ll laugh and say that I taught him what true love and happiness is. Then I will say that I already knew this cause I am good and virtuous. It’s full-proof.

“You mean fool-proof,” Jiji sighed, having reverted back to her ways of sneakiness and reading over my shoulder.

“Arnav’s not a fool, Jiji,” I said sternly, ready to defend my would-be husband to the death.

“No, Khushi,” she groaned, looking like she wanted to smack me, “the word is foolproof.”

To be honest, I don’t completely understand how a word could be defended against fools, but I didn’t argue. That’s another reason mine and Arnav’s marriage will be so exemplary one day. I will never fight with him. Ever. For anything. He’s so beautiful, why would I even want to? We’ll agree on everything and even if we don’t, I’ll probably be so attractive one day that he’ll agree with me anyways, just to keep me happy.

One day, after he finishes fighting Salman Khan for my hand in marriage, he’ll tell me how beautiful I am and that he’d fight Salmanji a million times if it meant getting me - ugh, Jiji is back. And with more silly and cruel remarks.

“Pagli,” she says, laughing callously as if she isn’t about to break my heart, “by the time you’re old enough to be married, Salman Khan will have kids of his own.”

I don’t know who Jiji thinks she is exactly, but her negativity is not welcome in my bubble of good wishes and happiness.

Speaking of good wishes and happiness! Why focus on negativity like Jiji’s when I had Arnav, the personification of goodness and happiness, to talk about. I guess you could say that our love story officially began at 2:30 pm today when I walked out of class and saw him in the courtyard again. He was standing under a tree, and I knew from watching him before that he was waiting for the arrival of the big white car that would pick him up from school and take him back home. I stared at him for a while, trying to find the courage to follow through with my idea. What if it hit him and he got angry? Nonsense, Arnav didn’t have an angry bone in his body, he is an angel. What if it hit him and he got hurt? Nonsense, yet again. Something as small as a pencil case couldn’t hurt a man. And Arnav… well, he was definitely a man. Besides, I told myself resolutely, even if it did hurt slightly now, it would be made up for in the happiness he’d feel realizing it was me, the love of his life, here to retrieve him at last. Once I had him, I’d keep him close so girls like Shreya Khanna couldn’t get too close. That girl was already on my last nerve. Always staring at Arnav, whispering to her friends about him, she probably even wrote about him in her diary. What a creep!

“Khushi,” Jiji’s voice sounded again, undoubtedly to spout some more negative nonsense. “Don’t you do the exact same thing?”

“Excuse me?!” I had gasped, appalled that Jiji would suggest that I would ever do such a thing to my beautiful Arnav.

“You stare at him, whisper about him and his mental math skills, and write about him in that diary of yours. Aren’t you just as bad as she is?”

How. Dare. She.

“It is completely different.” I sniffed haughtily. “I am going to marry him one day so that makes it cute.”

She didn’t seem to agree with me but then again who cared what she thought. One day when I was the Princess of Sheesh Mahal on the hill and Jiji was married to creepy Brij’s older brother Rohit, then we’d see what she thought. Back to what was really important, Arnav.

I stared at him from a few feet away. He looked like he was thinking again, staring up at the leaves of the tree. He was probably thinking about photosynthesis or something equally impressive. I knew from prior… observations… that the fancy white car from Sheesh Mahal would be arriving soon, so if I wanted to act, I had to do it now.  I raised my arm, pencil case in hand and poised to throw when I began to second guess my plan. Maybe I could just by him and drop it instead? Was throwing it necessary? I had almost convinced myself to rethink my idea when Arnav turned away from the tree and made eye contact with me. The sunlight was filtering through the canopy of leaves, lighting up the different shades of golden brown in his eyes. Before I was really conscious of what was happening, my arm let go, and I could only watch in horror as my pencil case went sailing through the air. Arnav saw it too and looked confused as he calmly took a step backwards, effectively removing himself from the path of the object. It hit the ground between us, and I felt like the entire courtyard had gone silent suddenly, despite the fact that I could hear Shreya Khanna trying to get Arnav’s attention by talking too loudly about how much she loves math. He looked up at me then and raised one eyebrow in a perfect, questioning arch.

“What the hell was that?”

His voice! In my head, I’d imagined all sorts of voices for him, thinking of what he would sound like when he told me was in love with me when I would finally speak to him. Nothing could measure up to what it really was. None of the boys in my year sounded like that. I kept my eyes trained on him and in my head I looked just like Madhuri Dixit, a worldly beauty speaking volumes from my eyes.

“Are you okay? Your eye is… doing something..?”

… Or maybe I didn’t look as alluring (another fancy word!) as I thought I did.  He asked me if I was okay! He cared! Of course, he cared about me, he’s older and smarter, he probably immediately recognized that I’m his soulmate. He is a man and I am a mature woman about to blossom -

“Do you need help finding your mom?” Devi Maiya, he’s beautiful and so kind. But I’d have to talk to him about this. He couldn’t make a habit out of being so nice to every girl he came across, offering to escort her to her mother and all. What if they just kept him!? Someone so perfect needed to be more careful.

“No!” I finally burst out, not wanting him to go find a teacher to deal with who he probably thought was some kind of nut. “No, thank you.”

I tried to keep my voice softer that time, wispy and feminine, a woman never raised her voice after all -

“Pardon? I can’t hear you.” Arnav took a step closer to me, and my heart lurched in answer.

“NO. I’M OKAY, THANK YOU.”

I want to die. How could I have yelled in his presence?!

He blinked in surprise before his features settled back into a mask of indifference and he nodded, turning away from me again to face the road and watch for his car. A few more minutes passed and I tried not to squeal every time he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He would frown every time he noticed I was still standing there. Probably because he can’t control his heartbeat when I’m around.

Duh.

Any second now, he’d pick up my pencil case and hand it back to me, take my hand in his and pretend to kiss the back of it (not the real thing - not without marriage). I’d swoon and he’d catch me in his strong arms. We wouldn’t get married though, that was for when we were much older, like 16 or something. More minutes passed. He still didn’t seem to have taken the hint. Wow. This was really something we’d have to discuss. He, of course, would be repentant and plead for my forgiveness. I would forgive him because I was so kind and he’d notice that and say I was the most amazing girl he’d ever known (and I wouldn’t even need to make him say it like I had to force Buaji to,  he’d say it cause he wanted to).

Eventually, he sighed harshly and looked at me again. I knew he would understand soon enough.

“Are you gonna get that, kid?”

Kid. I was expecting more along the lines of jaaneman, meri jaan, or beautiful but I could take ‘kid,’ as a starting point, I suppose.

More silence. Something in his jaw flexed in irritation and I felt a swoop where my stomach should be. He’s so pretty.

“Fine.” He snarled, stalking the few steps over to where my pencil case had fallen and stooping to retrieve it. Arnav looked at me again and I wanted to swoon for real when he started to walk towards me now, my glittery pencil case clutched in his manly hands.

“Here.”

I took it from his hands, taking care not to brush my fingers against his. That kind of stuff was only allowed once we were married.

“Thank you,” I replied, and for once I didn’t have to act to make my voice as soft as it came out. To his credit, he didn’t mention my lack of earlier responses and simply nodded in answer. A car horn sounded from behind us and he turned around to face the big white car from Sheesh Mahal

Panic gripped me, I couldn’t let this interaction end, not when I finally had his attention! He started to walk away from me, and I shouted the first thing that came to mind.

“Khushi!”

His steps faltered and he glanced back at me over his shoulder, pausing for a moment in confusion.

“My name -” I said sheepishly, staring at the floor now, scuffing my shoe against the dirt. “My name is Khushi.”

I thought he must’ve left when he finally answered.

“Nice name. Suits you.”

My eyes flashed up to his to find him still looking at me, an awkward half-smile on his face. My heart was suddenly racing like Basanti on her horse-cart and I beamed back at him.

“I’m Arnav.”

I barely managed to resist the urge to say that I already knew and instead settled for,

“Nice name. Suits you.”

He smiled a real full smile and gave me a small wave before he climbed into his big white car and took off towards his palatial home. He’d be back though, I knew he would. After all, he’d left his princess behind.

Signed,

Khushi Kumari Gupta

[cooperjones2020]

Second City, chp. 2

Betty is a basic bitch and I’m not sorry. 

This fic is quickly spiralling into a love letter to my favorite city. I’m not sorry about that either.

Also, let’s pretend Jughead and Jellybean are slightly more than six years apart, like eight, or even ten. That would make my underachieving ass feel better.

(ao3-->http://archiveofourown.org/works/11409360/chapters/25619850)

(part one)

In which Betty Cooper is a stereotypical millennial who can’t make a phone call

It has been three weeks since Jughead drove her home, stroked her arm, and called her Betts.

She is on her third re-read of The Final Fissure. Her airport copy is now nearly as worn and marked as her hardcover from the first print run.

She could never read it through just once. Each time she picked it up, she went through at least three re-reads. Pencil sketched out her initial thoughts. Blue pen compared Betty’s memories, her knowledge of the case notes, to Jughead’s narration. Green pen underlined the phrases and passages that made her want to weep and shake Jughead. To ask him how he strung together phrases that swept through her like fire, that absolved like the sea. Green pen underlined the places that laid bare the relationship between the man who’d written the words and the boy who’d lived them. The green pen underlined the places where he’d laid her bare.

She is reading on her lunch break, green pen tucked behind her ear, when Cynthia walks in.

“Aren’t you kind of behind the times? That came out over two years ago.”

“Oh I’ve read it before.” She sets the book down and moves the pen to the spine to mark her place. Cynthia sees her annotations. “Jeez, you in a book club or something?”

“What? Oh no, I just went to high school with him.”

“Him. You went to high school with FP Jones III.” She picks up the book and holds the back cover, with Jughead’s headshot and author blurb, up next to her face. Her eyes slide to the picture on Betty’s desk of her and Archie with their parents at their high school graduation. “What is in the water in your town?”

It’s a joke people have made about Sweetwater River before. For years in fact. But, since Betty was in high school, those jokes have centered on murder and corruption and cover ups. They have come perilously close to touching her family.

Cynthia does not know about that. Or, if her background checks have turned up anything tangential to Jason Blossom’s death more than ten years ago, she has been kind enough not to mention it. So Betty just shrugs and gives her a smile that turns down at the corners.

“And how are you settling in?”

“Good, I think! I’m putting the finishing touches on the profile of the independent bookstores in different parts of the city.”

“Great, you can send it to me to look over when you’re done. But I meant how are you settling in in general? Are you getting around okay? Do you need suggestions? A brunch date? A social life?”

Betty swallows the grin she can feel pulling on her face. She loves Cynthia—had missed her when she left New York a year ago—loved that she’d personally reached out to Betty and wooed her to the Tribune right when she was ready for it. But sometimes the woman acted like an overbearing aunt.

“The answer is, still, good. The rest of my boxes finally arrived and I got a Divvy Bike subscription for the summer. And you’re not the only person I know here, Cynth. I had dinner with my ex’s mom a few weeks ago.”

“Well, I’m glad for that, but I don’t think it counts.”

“Hey, it so does! And we have plans to go to a farmer’s market and her boyfriend is getting us tickets for a Cubs game. And I ran into Jughead — FP — while I was there.”

“Again, all good things, but that sounds more like her social life and — Jughead? FP Jones goes by Jughead?”

“It’s a childhood nickname thing.”

“Wait, Betty—you know FP Jones. Like, nickname-level know him.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You need to interview him!”

“What? Why?” Her heart kickstarts into a merengue.

“Well for one, he has a new book coming out soon so someone from the paper needs to interview him. For two, I hired you specifically for Printers Row.”

Cynthia gives her an appraising look, then continues: “Look, I know this job is downsizing for you. I know it’s less money and I know New York is the center of the writing world. It’s not investigative journalism. You’ll probably have to write more puff pieces than longform for a while. I practically had to promise you my left kidney to get you out here. But I meant it when I said I thought this move would be good for you, that an Arts beat would be good or you. You write better interviews than anyone I know. FP Jones is a rising star. It would be a great opportunity. For both of you.”

“Okay, we’ll blow past the drama queen antics for now. No bodily organs were exchanged in the making of this job contract. Jughead and I…aren’t on the best of terms. We haven’t even talked since high school. We just both happen to come from the same small town is all. We know the same people.”

“Well that could be better! You know—you’ll be able to be more objective about him while breathing life into the background, really telling the story. You can give us another lens on what makes Riverdale tick — that whole seedy underbelly of small town America schtick he’s working with.”

Betty capitulates with a groan. She could see she wouldn’t get out of this without a fight she isn’t ready have while this new on the job.

“Look, I don’t have a way to contact him. But I’ll try. I can call Archie’s mom.”

“Perfect.” Cynthia folds her hands over her crossed leg and cocks her head at Betty.

“You want me to try now?”

“Why not?”

“Okay, fine,” she grumbles. She prays Mary is in court.

Her prayers are not answered.

“Hey Mar! No, yeah I’m good…You?…No sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to ask if you had Jughead’s email address. I had a—a work question.” Her eyes bulge when Mary offers her his number instead, and she quickly looks down to the hand picking at her skirt hem. Cynthia knows her tells. “No, no, his email’s good for now. Thanks. Talk to you soon. Love you too. Bye.”

When Cynthia waltzes out ten minutes later, Betty’s inbox already contains an email from Mary with Jughead’s contact info, so she leaves with a Cheshire Cat grin on her perfectly made-up face.

Betty sighs. She really doesn’t want to do this. It feels like taking advantage of an old relationship. An old friendship. She doesn’t want to make Jughead uncomfortable. But she also doesn’t want to make herself uncomfortable.

She looks at the book on her desk, moving her thumb to trace the curve of his mouth, the slope of his jaw.

It takes her four hours to write the email. Not that she just sits there and stares at the computer screen for four hours. She’s still Betty Cooper. She sends other emails, sets up meetings, finishes proofreading her article. She takes a power walk around the block with the running shoes she keeps stashed in her purse. She does a ruthless purge until she hits inbox zero. She multitasks.

But always in the back of her mind: Dear Jughead? Dear Jug? Dear J?…Dear Jones?…Would ‘Hi’ be better than ‘Dear’? Ugh I hate myself.

Finally, at quarter to five, she shuts her eyes and hits send, then immediately begins packing up for the day.

When she goes to log off her computer, he’s already responded. Fuck.

“Hi Betty,

Of course we can set up an interview. Unfortunately all that stuff has to go through my agent and I’m sitting at a gate at O’Hare at the moment on my way back to Riverdale. If you don’t mind waiting, we can set something up next week. But if you’re up for it, I have a Skype call with him on Thursday and we’re due to talk about my promotional schedule anyway.

Let me know whatever works.

Best,

J.”

He certainly didn’t spend hours stewing and overthinking every damn syllable.

She agrees to set up the call for Thursday afternoon. Cynthia is so pleased with her she gives her permission to work from home for the day.

In Betty’s lexicon, ‘work from home’ means go on a really long run to burn off excess adrenaline and come home with a sugar coma-inducing drink from Starbucks.

So, she stands on the edge of Promontory Point, still shivering a little in her gym shorts in the early morning breeze off the lake. She forces herself through some Ujjayi breaths. One of the biggest differences she’s noticed thus far from New York is the sheer variety of scents in the air. No one leaves their trash on the curb here. There’s a chocolate factory downtown and its aromas waft over the city with the afternoon heat. In the mornings, the lake exhales a melange of algae and minerals as it laps against the rocks.

Today is the first time she’s felt panicky since moving to Chicago. Moving debacles aside, the whole experience had been pretty damn empowering. She found a sublet for her old apartment and a gorgeous new one. She hired a moving van. She made the calls to end and start her utilities. She told Alice Cooper where to stuff it when she tried to make Betty feel guilty. And she ended a relationship that wasn’t making her happy anymore, appearances her damned.

She takes a picture of the skyline across the lake and instragrams it with the skyscraper emoji and the caption “Sweet Home #Chicago.” Then, she tightens her laces and takes back off.

Sometimes she worries that by moving here she’s settling — for a smaller job, a smaller city, a smaller life than she’d promised herself — but then she remembers the other things her younger self used to want and shakes those anxieties off. Maybe people don’t decide whether their lives will be large or small. Maybe life decides for them. Maybe the correlation between size and value is smaller than she’s been led to believe.

And that is okay. She is learning that that is okay.

A few hours later, she sits on the floor in front of the coffee table, her laptop propped on a stack of books, and waits for Jughead’s call. This she can handle. This is business. There will be a chaperone, for god’s sake. She’s purposely made sure she’s in the latter part of their agenda, so there’s no chance Jughead can call her before adding his agent to the call.

So she might be a little bit of a coward. She’s okay with that too.

She almost misses the call thanks to the inanity of her inner monologue. When she answers, she sees a split screen of Jughead and an iron-haired man with wire frame glasses, and hears Janis Joplin’s cover of “To Love Somebody” pulsing in the background.

“Hey Betty — this is David. David—Betty Cooper, Chicago Tribune. She…ugh, give me a second. Those speakers carry farther than I thought.”

He disappears from the frame and the music grows softer, though it doesn’t disappear.

When he returns, they talk through some of the preliminaries — she gives them an idea of some of the questions she’s brainstormed over the past few days, of the pitch she and Cynthia have crafted. “We’re thinking a two-parter — the interview, and then I’ll review the ARC, and color it all with my own background in Riverdale. You know, add some human interest.”

Jughead opens his mouth to speak, but David jumps in before he can.

“That sounds perfect, Betty. In fact, Jughead mentioned you gave him his first writing job in high school — that the character of Betsy Coleman might in part have been inspired by you.” Jughead is clenching his jaw, looking as uncomfortable as Betty feels, so she averts her eyes.

“We’re thinking we’ll run extracts of the interview on J’s blog and the publisher’s website — maybe take out an ad in the Times when the publication date draws closer. We’d love to get some official photos.”

“No.”  She looks up, startled at the vehemence in his voice. He runs a hand through his un-beanie-ed hair. A move that apparently still signals his exasperation. “Jesus, Dave. She just moved here. Give her a chance to build her own life before we start plastering her face all over buses.”

David’s face tells her they’ve already discussed the photos. That he is well-aware of Jughead’s opinion on the matter and is attempting to go over his head. She fights — and fails at — suppressing her urge to help, to fix, to placate.

“Maybe we can revisit that idea if the interview is well-received.”

“As you say. Well, I think that’s all on my end then. Betty, make sure your office contacts mine with the small print stuff. I’ll leave you two to set up the details. J, call me when you’ve looked over the new copy for the book jacket.”

“It’s not a surprise, Jughead,” she says softly when David has left the call. “I have read the book.”

“I know—I know. And I didn’t try very hard to mask the details. But you haven’t read the second one yet.”

“Well, I will soon.” She shoots for light, casual. She probably misses, if Jughead’s face is anything to go by. He’s still grinding his teeth.

The music has been getting steadily louder. “Here, I’m gonna take you with me and go outside. Jelly’s graduation is tomorrow and she’s started celebrating early.”

Of course. The music. Jellybean would be 18 now. When he settles the iPad on what she assumes is a patio table, she realizes that, though he’s in Riverdale, she actually has no idea where he is. It seems like his patio overlooks the woods.

He still knows how to read her face. “It’s—uh—a little house off Pine.  For Dad and JB. The down payment seemed like a good use of my first advance.”

She feels her expression soften. It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do.

He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and lights one up. “Look — I’ll be back on Monday night but I have some things to take care of. Would Wednesday be okay for you? Say around 8?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great.”

“Thanks. I’ll think of a good place and get in touch.” Then he looks up at something beyond the screen. “Jesus Christ. Her friends have arrived. They’re heading for the fire pit.

“I’ll talk to you soon Betty.” He’s gone before she can say goodbye. She makes a half-hearted attempt to wipe the sappy grin from her face before she calls Cynthia.