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#and also I know I'm stating the obvious but sometimes things don't sink.... until they do
jfleamont · 4 months
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hey you know what? I'm actually so happy to have found this corner of the internet where I get to indulge in some of my favourite pastimes. I have a very fulfilling life outside of this and I'm deeply grateful for that too but isn't it fucking nice to come here and get to chat about our favourite characters together? isn't it fucking grand that we're from different parts of the world and yet we get to share our writing, our art, our thoughts and that we find connection through that? there are so many kind and intelligent people here and guys, it's a privilege to have witnessed your light, even if it's through a screen and behind a silly username. not everyone gets the chance to interact with other people who share the same passions, and I like the fact that we're all at different stages of our lives but still find joy in this collective experience that is being in a fandom. maybe I'll grow out of it, maybe I won't, but it's liberating, satisfying and inspiring to be here and, most importantly, I'm having fun and that's all that matters, right?
so thank you, I guess, for just being here.
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stray-kids-react · 3 years
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Shy s/o doesn't think they deserve them
Masterlist
...
Bang Chan
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° He loved your shy personality, he just wanted to cuddle and praise you all day long. Even though you are a naturally soft person, that also comes with a lot of insecurities.
° Your boyfriend is a hot aussie leader with a heart of gold who fans call daddy, you can't but feel that you don't deserve such a God like boyfriend. And he can see it bothers you.
° Chan is a sweet heart who will check in on you as often as he can even with his busy schedule, he knows having an idol boyfriend can be stressful and he wants to comfort you.
° Felix was baking brownies, which you usually helped him out with even if it is just to cheer him on as he does his thing. But both of the aussies noticed your missing presence.
° Chan waltzed up to his studio, where you often hung around when you were at the dorms. Once he walked inside he noticed your figure curled up in a chair.
° You were scrolling through some messages that were sent to you via Instagram. None of the messages were pleasant, and Chan's heart broke as he read the truly gruesome ones.
"Maybe they are right. Maybe I don't deserve you." you sighed, slumping back.
"Don't say that, you are a beautiful person inside and out who I couldn't survive without." He reassured, taking your phone away as he cuddled into you.
Lee Know
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° Minho always liked you since you first met during the shoot of hellevator. He was pretty obvious with his fondness of you, but you never believed that he could like you.
° Later on once you began dating, he soon realized how low your self confidence truly was. So he made a promise to himself to try and increase it as much as he can.
° Many fans would threaten you for 'taking Minho away', but Minho would shred the letters before you could see how many there truly were. He knew it would hurt you.
° Minho is very affectionate towards you and likes to show you his love through touch. Whenever you seem down, he will cover your face in small pecks until you begin to smile.
° Has seen how come fans and staff treat you, pushing you around and telling you that you aren't worth his time. Minho took it into his own hands and protected you from them.
° He doesn't like seeing you upset or feel like a burden to him, especially since you are so special to him. Minho asked Chan and JYP if he could take at least a week off, they said yes.
"You didn't have to take a week off just for me, I am okay with your schedule." You explained, ruffling his hair.
"I know you're okay with it, but I needed to get away just for a while. And I miss you everytime you're not with me." He replied, gently placing a kiss to your head.
Changbin
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° Will do anything to make you see for at least a second how important you truly are to him, he usually sends you hearts and does an adorable aegyo voice when talking to you.
° When you first began to hang out, you were very distant and almost never said a word. Changbin wanted to get to know you, so he constantly made efforts to befriend you.
° Once you opened up you Changbin, he noticed how self conscious and self critical you were of yourself. His confusion as to why you hate yourself only grew stronger.
° Every morning when you both get out of the shower, he will stand you in front of the mirror and poke every feature on your body saying that it is gorgeous and perfect.
° Likes knowing that you feel comfortable around him and that you have him to go to when you are feeling down. He wants to always be there for you and support you.
° Won't admit it to you, but he once teared up while you were asleep because he picked up a hate letter that was directed at you and he was worried that you read it.
"Your eyes, stunning. Your tummy, adorable. Your ears, cute. Your lips, kiss able. Your butt, squishy. Your shoulders, gorgeous..."
"Binnie you have five minutes before dance practice, you should really get going now."
Hyunjin
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° Hyunjin is known to be a visual God in all of kpop, even though he is also VERY talented. Many people have a crush on Hyunjin, and you happened to be one of the many.
° His personality was addictive to be around, his looks were God like, and his talent was insane. Thus making it harder and harder for you to see how much he truly adored you.
° You saw yourself on totally different levels, you alwere at a ten while he was in the thousands. Your thoughts always doubting a scenario where you two would date.
° Assuming Hyunjin was just being nice to you, it became very hard for Hyunjin to clue you into that fact that he liked you. Everyone knew this except for you it seemed.
° Jisung, being a close friend to both Hyunjin and yourself. Took it upon himself to try and arrange a way for you to not be so self critical and completely oblivious.
° The next afternoon, you walked into the dance practice room which was now turned into a full on romantic dining area. Shocked as you saw Hyunjin with a rose in his hand.
"Is this for me? It can't be... There must be some sort of mistake or-"
"No mistakes, I've liked you for a while and thought I was being obvious enough. But Jisung told me that I should simply confess."
Han
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° You and Jisung have been dating for a while, and you watched proudly as Stray Kids gained more and more popularity as they deserved, since they are talented kings.
° The hate comments sent towards you, and the jealous fans or occasionally staff members and idols. Those never used to bother you, but they became more frequent.
° This slowly picked away at your already small amount of confidence, over thinking everything you do or ever did. And Jisung began to notice your distressed state.
° After a performance he went up to you back stage and leaned in for a kiss, when you barely responded to it and looked around the room nervously, his heart twisted sadly.
° Jisung took you to an unoccupied dressing room, and locked the door behind you. He cupped your cheeks gently as he rested his head against yours. A small sigh escaping him.
° You felt all of the built up sadness and anger rise out of you, as tears slowly sprinkled down your cheeks. Your hands clinging onto his back as he embraced you.
"Shh shh shh, it's okay. Just let it all out, it'll be okay. I'm here for you, you know that."
"I'm sorry, I just felt like I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have been so distant, their words just really hurt."
Felix
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° Felix knew it was going to be a bumpy ride seeing as he is under a huge company and his band is very popular, but he was willing to go through all of that with you.
° You and Felix were best friends before you started dating, he knew you were shy and quite distant when it came to people. He started to find it cute after a couple years.
° JYP himself has criticised you for interfering with his idols's lives. Even though you didn't interfere and honestly helped Felix calm down throughout the schedules.
° Felix was disappointed by some fo the fan's toxic behavior towards you, knowing that those types of comments will stick with you for quite sometime. You made him happy and he wished others would see that.
° The other members and artists under JYP saw you as part of the big jyp family, but even their support couldn't stop the sadness that brewed as more hate letters were sent.
° You didn't want to stress your already overworked boyfriend, so you tried to find a quiet spot to cry in. But Felix knew you too well, and knew where you would hide.
"I'm okay Lix, I don't want to stress you out since your already on a hectic schedule today. I'll be fine I swear."
"I won't leave until I know for a fact that you are okay, the practice can wait. You need me right now and I'm going to be here for you."
Seungmin
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(He looks so cute! I couldn't help myself lol)
° You were also a beloved idol, and many eoopel actually found your relationship with Seungmin quite adorable. You felt lucky that there wasn't so much hate directed at you.
° Even though you both seemed to have it easy compared to other idol couples, you couldn't help but feel insecure when Seungmin treated you like a queen/king.
° Many fans of yours knew that off stage you are an adorable shy bean, but no one except for Seungmin knew why you would become so shy and distant towards others.
° Your shyness came from extreme anxiety and self image issues. You never had much confidence, and Seungmin made many goals to try and bring your confidence up.
° One day after a hard performance, you sat in front of your dressing room mirror and let your tears slide down your cheeks silently. Letting your anxiety take over everything.
° Seungmin walked in with a box of celebration cupcakes, only to have hsi smile fade once he saw the tears rushing down your features. He felt his heart sink.
"I'm sorry Seungmin. It's stupid really, but I just don't feel like I deserve you."
"Y/n, we are perfect for each other. I spoil you with love and affection because you always make me feel special and loved."
Jeongin
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° You knew how beloved Jeongin was, by fans, members, idols, netizens, family... Everyone. This sent a large amount of pressure towards you once you began dating.
°Jeongin loved your quiet and calm personality, it was a nice break from the loud JYP building and Stray Kids dorms. Your shyness is what attracted him to you.
° He liked cuddling with you in your apartment, talking about nothing and everything as a random movie played in the background. It was his favorite place to be.
° You both were open with anything that was bothering you and never let something stir inside of you for too long. He wanted to be your safe haven for when you need one.
° One weekend when he was staying at your place, he noticed you seemed more quiet than usual and asked you what was bothering you. Since something clearly was.
° You snuggled into his chest as you clung onto him tighter, sighing in defeat knowing you will have to admit your feelings even though you think they seem silly.
" I feel like I don't deserve you. I mean, you are Yang Jeongin a literal angel."
"You deserve the universe and everything in it, I love you and only you. Don't put yourself down, remember how much I care about you."
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fangirlovestuff · 4 years
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Hi! I love your work!! If you are free, can you do one where the reader, who is an actress, is rumored to be with someone else she worked with and Chris Evans actually starts believing it and they fight which leads to a break up? I'm sorry it's really dumb.
Rumor Has It
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a/n - nonnie, your request isn’t dumb!!! it’s a very good request and tysm for asking it, i really hope this is what you wanted and i could do your request justice. also yes, the title is from the Adele song, i just couldn’t resist lol. enjoy!<3
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: angst, cursing 
edit - this turned into a series🥰: part 2 part 3
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You were returning from set when you read the headline of the article and snorted. Seriously? Don't these people have anything better to do but speculate about coworkers "dating"?
Entering your house, you shut the door behind you, knowing Chris was already home. "Babe?" you called out, putting down your bag.
"Hey," you heard Chris say in the living room. He sounded off, maybe even angry. You frowned and came into the living room, plopping down on the couch next to him.
"You alright?" you asked, pouting slightly at his expression.
"I don't know," he shrugged.
"You don't… know?"
"I don't know. Is my girlfriend cheating on me?" he finally turned to look you in the eyes, his expression annoyed.
"Excuse me?" you said, your eyes widening in shock.
"You heard me," he grumbled and took his phone out of his pocket. He opened it and the first thing that popped up was the article you just saw, open on some pictures of you and your friend David getting lunch on set today.
You rolled your eyes. "Very funny, Chris."
"Is it though?" he said bitterly and raised his eyebrow.
"C'mon, you can't be serious about this," you chuckled and cupped his face with your hands. "You know I'm not dating him, right?"
"I dunno, this seems pretty compelling to me," he said coldly. "listen to this – 'the two stars met on set for their hit new show, and sources state they immediately hit it off. They've been rumored to be involved for quite a while, but new pictures from the set today—'"
"Alright, I've heard enough," you cut him off, "we're just friends, and we went to get lunch. Obviously, the press blew it up like they love to do so much. You know this," you squeezed his hand in yours.
"Well yeah, but is it true? I mean, did you two really hit it off? Are you dating now?"
"God, do you really believe that crap, Chris?" you stood up and started pacing, unable to contain your anger.
"What do you want me to do?" his voice rose, his frustration evident. "Every fucking day you're dating someone else, and it's never me. How long until that turns true?"
"Never! It's never gonna turn true Chris!" you were exasperated. "Now, are you going to trust me? Take my word on this?"
"Considering the fact that everyone else says something different than you, it's a pretty hard thing to do." His tone was lower now, eyes fuming, and jaw clenched.
"It shouldn't be!" you lashed out, "You don't know these people! But you know me!"
"Yes, I do. That's how I know how anyone would jump at the chance to be with you." He looked into your eyes and you stared right back, still angry. After a short pause, he spoke up again. "You didn't answer my question."
"No, Chris! The answer is an obvious no! I'm not fucking around, I'm not in love with my coworker, or whatever it is people are saying about me. It doesn't matter, because I'm with you, and that's how I wanna be. The fact that this stupid gossip means something to you tells me that you don't. If you actually wanted to be with me, you would listen."
"I do want to be with you!" he said, taking your hand in his, "I just don't want anyone stealing you away from me. And when you go out to lunch with David," he spat out the name, "maybe make sure you're not all over the fucking tabloids, and then we can avoid this argument and you can lunch with whoever you want."
"Green was never your fucking color, Chris. Especially when you refuse so adamantly to trust me."
"Look, we both do what we do. We know what it's like to be someone you're not. And sometimes, it feels like if you wanted to lie to me, you could, because you're just that good. And if I was David, I'd do everything I can to be with you. You know I love you, but you can't blame me for having a hard time trusting you," he said, frustrated.
"Oh my fucking god!" you yelled, "You're an actor too, Chris! And guess what, I still believe you! So yes, I can blame you for not trusting me, because if you actually loved me like you said you do, you'd trust me!" tears of hurt were streaming down your face now, the truth of your words sinking in.
"I'm done making excuses for you, and I'm done with you," you said, your voice cold and leveled, strong. Meanwhile, your heart shattered.
"Oh, really? Is it because you don’t love me, or is it because you love him?"
"None. And the fact that you can't get that through your thick skull tells me I'm making the right call."
You took a deep breath before walking away, picking up a bag and starting to stuff your clothes in it, your phone, everything you needed to take with you. God knows you're not coming back here again.
Chris didn't follow. Maybe he thought you just needed some time to relax, maybe he didn't want to stop you. You didn't care.
Wordlessly, you slipped out, your stuff with you, already calling your friend to let you crash at her place. You passed the living room entrance and saw Chris on the couch, Dodger in his lap, watching the TV. You could join them, whispered a voice in you, like you always do, and then it'll be okay.
But it won't. You couldn't be with someone who didn't trust you fully. You couldn't give your heart to someone who took the press more seriously than he did you. You couldn’t compromise your soul like that, not even for Chris. You went outside, slamming the door behind you. By the time Chris noticed, you were far enough from him to realize you did the right thing, the only thing you could do.
You walked away.
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i’m don’t love my writing in this one a hundred precent, but i really wanted to get it out because i know i’ve been taking forever with the requests, i really hope it was good anyways🥺 also this is very angsty but i’m posting a very fluffy headcanon soon (probs gonna queue it up today) so keep an eye out for that<3
Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3
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Stay With Me (Pt. 04 of 09)
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Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader
Word count: 3 K
Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.
Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.
<- Previous part (03)
Next part (05) ->
{The Walking Dead Masterlist}
I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22 , who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!
×
Running Away
Twenty-one days. That's how long you've been in Alexandria. The days have fallen into a routine, slow, and filled with care. Daryl has been sleeping with you, and in the mornings you have your breakfast on the porch when it's sunny. Then, Carol helps you take a bath, changes the dressings of your wounds, and you're back in bed. You're speaking more with Carol, what makes her happy, you think. The wounds are still a problem. It still hurts a lot, but not as bad as before. And you're starting to get tired of staying in bed all day.
So today, after having your dressings changed and when Carol leaves, you stand up, eyes tightly closed to hold back the pain. Using the nightstand to support some of your weight, you move to the wall, using it to help you limp towards the door.
“Huh?” You hear a mumble.
“You're... Clean?” Carol asks, and you wonder what that's about. “You're clean.”
“I showered. What's the big deal?”
“Yes, you did... You showered yesterday too. And the day before...” As you reach the door frame, you try to understand what's this odd conversation between the two of them. “Actually, you've been showering daily for quite a while now. I wonder why–” She stops talking when you step outside, her eyes finding you.
Immediately, Daryl turns around, making his way over you. His eyes run through your body and you don't quite understand why he's cheeks are getting red. “What are ya doin’ up?” The moment he's close enough, you let go of the wall and hold on to him instead.
But Daryl acts weird, as if he didn't want to touch you. It makes you feel akward since you grew used to his touch. “What?” You ask, pulling away just enough to look down at your body, trying to see if there's anything in you that might have caused this reaction.
“Where are the rest of yer clothes?” He asks, trying to push you back into the room.
“This is what I usually wear.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take in the tank top and one of the lycra shorts Carol got you. It reaches about two inches above your wound, which means it barely covers your thighs. It never bothered you. Well, only when it's cold. “What's wrong with it?”
“Nothin’, nothin’.” He gives Carol an odd look before holding you again, his hands barely touching your sides. “Let's get ya back to bed.”
“No. I wanna go downstairs. I'm tired of being in the room.” You beg him, trying to resist as he pushes you back. “Please?”
“Put on somethin’ to cover up yer... Yer body. In case someone comes in.”
“I'll grab the blanket.” When you're about to move to get it, Daryl's moves first, taking the blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, closing it on the front. He then picks you up, as he usually does to move you around, carrying you downstairs and carefully laying you down on the couch.
You quickly move into a sitting position as he settles down beside you. “Ya want anythin’?”
“I'm thirsty.” You don't want to keep asking people to get things. You want to go there and get them yourself.
“I'll get you some water,” Carol answers before Daryl can stand up.
She soon comes with your glass, and you drink half of it before handing over to Daryl, who puts it on the coffee table. Then, you move the blanket around, so it won't be a barrier as you lean on Daryl. But he flinches, seemingly uncomfortable. The way he moves away hurts you a little, and you sit up straight again, looking at him. “What is it, Daryl?” You ask, suddenly feeling odd, pulling the blanket so it'll cover your shoulders. “I just took a bath, I'm not dirty.” Your mind tries to find any other reason for Daryl to act like this.
“I know. Ya smell good, I jus’...” He moves a little, clearly nervous. “Yer using next to nothin’ and I don't wanna make ya feel uncomfortable.”
“I'm not feeling uncomfortable.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to understand what's the difference. You've been using this style of clothing since you got here. Denise told you not to wear anything that might squeeze the wound on your thigh, and Daryl has been sleeping on the same bed as you. Why is it different now? Then it clicks. He never really knew what was under the blankets you always have around you in bed. But you don't feel uncomfortable, not around Daryl. “I'm fine, truly.”
“Are ya?” He looks down at you after avoiding your gaze for a while. You wonder why he seems so embarrassed.
“Yeah.” Muttering, you give a quick glance at the kitchen, to make sure Carol isn't looking. Sometimes, she stands there, as if studying your interactions with Daryl, you're not sure why. You have the suspicion that she's actually studying his interaction with you. But she's not on your sight, probably at the sink or at the countertop making lunch. Turning your gaze at Daryl, you shrug your shoulders. “Can I?”
He breathes in deeply, and you see something snap in his eyes, like he's giving up trying to fight something. “C'mere, babygirl.”
You can't control the smile that comes to your lips as you lean on him again, carefully moving your legs up to the couch. “Daryl?”
“Huh?”
“Why do you call me babygirl?” You decide to ask, not because you don't like it, just because you really want to know.
He moves a little, restless again. There are a lot of things you still don't understand about Daryl, but you try to. “ ‘Cause yer young. And a girl.”
Doesn't make much sense, and it sounds like he just said the most obvious thing. “I'm not that young, Dixon.” It's weird how, all of a sudden, you don't want Daryl to see you as a kid. He does have to look after you, but it's just because your body is still broken... But you're getting better every day, and soon enough you'll be able to function like a normal person.
“Yer young compared to me.”
“You're not that old.”
“I am compared to ya.” He speaks fast as if he wants to shake this thought away.
Of the many things that have gone through your head since you spotted Daryl's blue eyes among the dead, age wasn't one of them. It's not like you haven't noticed the man is some, well, several years older than you, probably around two decades, but it was never important. You never thought this matter deserved attention. It doesn't change anything. “Uhm...” You mumble, an arm moving to hug his midsection.
“Shouldn't call ya that anyway.” He mutters, his chest vibrating under your head.
“I like it. I really do.” Daryl only calls you that when nobody else is around. When Carol or Denise are here, he always uses your name. And you like it. It's like a private thing, a secret.
Daryl only grunts in response, which makes you giggle. You both fall into a comfortable silence until Carol comes to the living room, sitting on the coffee and getting your attention.
“(Y/N), Maggie and Glenn got back from a run yesterday. They brought a wheelchair and I was thinking that maybe you could use it to take a tour around the neighborhood.” She says, glancing at Daryl and then at you. Walking it's still hard for your leg, and Denise still doesn't think you should try to. The stitches ripped twice after the first incident, and you're being extra careful now.
“I don't know.” The thought of going out there, where people will see you... You haven't stopped to think about it. Actually, you've been more comfortable with being inside the house.
“I'll be with ya. If ya feel like yer ready for it.” Daryl says, and it gives you just a little bit of courage.
“Do you think I should?”
“The group wants to meet you.” Carol answers. “They're curious about the girl Daryl cuddles with.” Her comment makes Daryl swift in his seat again, letting out a displeased grunt. “You will like them when you give it a chance. There's also Judith. That one will steal your heart in half a second.”
“Who's Judith?” You ask her.
“Rick's daughter,” Daryl says. “Lil’ Ass Kicker, three years of drivin’ Rick insane.”
“You have kids here?” You haven't seen kids since the world broke. Part of you thought it was better that way. Bringing a kid into the world as it is now is crazy. But here... Alexandria seems like a safe place. It seems like a good place to be if you want kids.
“A few, yes.” Carol states. “So? Can I have Maggie bring the wheelchair?”
Lifting your head a little, you give Daryl a glance. “It's yer call to make. Ya wanna go or not?”
“Only if I can meet Judith.”
“Alright then.” Carol stands up, clearly happy. “I'll get the chair and you put some clothes on because if you go out like that Daryl will certainly have a heart attack.”
“I would never go out like that.” You mutter, wondering what's the big deal with your clothes.
So you put on these loose sweatpants and a long-sleeved light blue shirt since the wind coming from your window is a bit cold. You're anxious when Daryl puts you in the chair, already outside. You can't help but look at the sides, suddenly aware of every human being here who's not Daryl.
“Ready?” He asks, and you almost say no. But you force yourself to nod, and he starts pushing the wheelchair.
You're shaking a little, hands clenched into fists. Maybe this was a bad idea, and everything you want is to get back to your bedroom, where nobody knows about your existence, where there's just you and Daryl and nothing else. People have been hurting you for too long, you don't think you can deal with them anymore.
“Ya ok down there?” Daryl's voice snaps you out, and you nod again. “Let's meet Maggie. She's the one who found ya this chair.” Daryl takes you near the walls that surround the city, tall and constantly under watch. He calls and the woman some feet away turns around. She's been talking to a small group of people, who also turn to look at you.
“Daryl.” She greets, leaving the others and walking over you. “And I believe this is (Y/N). I'm Maggie.” She reaches out her hand and you freeze, just looking at it. This is ridiculous. You shouldn't be out here. “Oh, it's alright.” Maggie retrieves her hand, giving you a small smile. “I've heard you've been through some tough times. I just hope you'll feel better now that you're here.”
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you nod, trying to force some words out. “T-thanks for the chair.” You push out, hoping it'll be enough.
“No need to thank me. I just thought it would help you start getting to know the community.”
“Maggie!” Someone calls, and she turns on her heels to check it out.
“That one over there, in the blue T-shirt is Gleen, my husband.” She says. “Nice guy, judging by the fact I'm married to him.” She looks at you again. “Well, I gotta go. I hope this is not the last time I'll see you, (Y/N). Have a nice day.” With that, she waves and goes back to where she was as Daryl pushes you away, taking a different turn.
“She's nice.” You tell Daryl when you're far enough not to be heard.
“She is. You'll like her if ya give her the chance.”
You mutter in response, bouncing your leg a little. This place is amazing. Beautiful. It reminds you of simpler times when the dead used to remain that way. But the wall around you is a constant reminder of the dangers that must be kept outside.
Daryl introduces you to some people. You're happy you managed to say ‘hi’ and shake some hands, despite flinching away from their touch too quickly. He's very patient, pushing your around the town, using the least crowded streets. But half an hour later you're getting too restless, excited to go back home.
“I think I want to go back now.” You say when you see two people walking your way.
“What about Judith?”
“Oh...” You completely forgot about her. “Can we go now? Then back home.”
“Judith is Rick's daughter. Which means he'll probably be there.” Daryl warns you, changing direction. “Ya think ya can handle that?”
“Then we should just go back home.” You suddenly don't want to do it anymore. It's way too much for today.
“Listen.” Daryl stops, walking around the chair and crouching before you. “Ya trust me, don't ya?”
“I thought we reached this point where you don't have to ask me that because you know the answer.” Of course you trust Daryl. You'd put your life in his hands without thinking twice. You've already done that, actually.
“I know Rick reminds ya of one of those assholes, but he ain't like them. He's been with us for years. I trust him and so can ya.” One of his hands comes to touch your knee, and it makes you relax a little. “But I'll take ya back if that's what ya need. Not gonna push ya.”
Taking a deep breath, you nod, looking down. “Can't you... Can't you bring her to the house?” You're not ready, not yet. “I'd feel better there. Even if–Even if I have to meet this Rick.”
“Of course, baby–” Daryl clears his throat, shaking his head.
What's wrong with him today? “Babygirl.” You decide to finish it for him, reaching out your hand to touch his face. But Daryl stands up abruptly the moment your fingers connect with his cheek.
“Let's go.” He's soon moving you again, not saying anything else.
It takes five minutes or so until you're back home, feeling relieved to have these walls around you again. Daryl leaves you in the living room with Carol as he goes to get Judith. He takes a while, but you hear Judith before Daryl swings the door open.
“See that lady over there?” He says to the beautiful toddler in his arms. It's such a sight, seeing Daryl holding Judith. “She's dying to meet ya.” As he speaks, Judith's eyes find you and she smiles.
“Hi!” She mumbles, waving a tiny hand at you.
You didn't think you'd ever see a kid again. “Hi, Judith.” Daryl brings her to the couch, putting her down beside you. “How are you, little ass-kicker?”
“You goin to play with me?” She happily asks, reaching out her hand, which you hold, giving a little shake.
“Sure.” You can't help but smile. A smile that doesn't fades. This child is the exact opposite of everything you suffered. She's innocent, kind, and pure. “There's nothing here to play with.”
“Rick's bringin’ some–” He's cut off by a knock on the door. “That's him. ‘M gonna let him come in, is that alright?”
Holding your breath, you nod. As Daryl goes to open the door, you keep looking at Judith, the smile disappearing. “(Y/N),” Daryl calls as you see the two men moving to the living room. “This is Rick, Judith's father.”
“Hi, daddy,” Judith exclaims.
Slowly, you raise your eyes, sinking a little into the couch, as if it could put more distance between you and that man. “Hi.” You whisper, not sure if he can hear you, so you say it again. “H-hi. I'm (Y/N).”
“It's nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Rick says, exchanging a glance with Daryl. “I brought these blocks Judith likes.” He slowly steps forward, and you finally notice the box he's holding. He leaves it on the couch between you and his daughter before stepping back. “And I want to apologize for our first meeting. I didn't know... Well, I'm sorry.”
“It's ok.” The words are still getting caught in your throat. Rick does look like that man, but he isn't him. The beard is pretty much the same, but the eyes are different. More kind. But then again, some of them did seemed to be kind in the beginning. It didn't last long though.
Judith opens the box and starts taking all the colorful blocks out, throwing the empty box on the floor.
It's a weird feeling to do this. Playing with a kid, building houses and castles, imagining people living in them. The rest of the world goes away for a while, and you're surprised by the smiles that keep finding their way to your lips. Every time Judith says or does something, you can't help but be mesmerized. It makes you think that maybe, just maybe, sometime from now, you could have a kid of your own. You always wanted to be a mother, before the world came crashing down, but you haven't given it much thought about it after. It was useless anyway. There wasn't a place like this, safe, where you could fancy such possibilities...
Your eyes suddenly find Daryl, seated on the kitchen table talking to Rick. In the back of your mind, you wonder if Daryl ever thought about having kids too. He does seem to like Judith, and she likes him too. Like he's being called, he looks straight at you, and you sustain his stare for a while before Judith claims your attention.
Shaking your head lightly to push these thoughts away, something else comes. The way Daryl suddenly started acting weird. Earlier today on the couch, and when you touched his face. It doesn't matter how hard you try to understand him, you can't. You need to talk to him, to ask what's wrong.
Judith stays with you all day, only to be taken by her brother Carl when the night has already fallen. So you have dinner before going back upstairs, fixing the blankets around you, and waiting for Daryl. But after an hour, you wonder if he'll even come.
So you push all the blankets away, ignoring the cold that quickly creeps over your skin. By the time you reach the hall, you realize you don't know where Daryl's room is. Why didn't he come? He always does, you don't have to ask. Did he forget you? Is he mad or something? Using the walls to help you walk, you move down the hall, a low groan leaving your lips when a sharp pain spreads through your torso.
“What are ya doin’?” His voice comes from behind, so you stop, leaning against the wall. Daryl reaches you a couple of seconds later, and you're quick to notice how he holds both your arms, keeping a distance in between you. “Come. I'll help ya get back.”
“I'm alright.” You mutter as he easily picks you up again, carrying you back to bed.
“Ya still need to be careful.” He simply says, standing back up once you're comfortably lying down.
“Daryl, I need to talk to you.” Sitting back up, you decide to just say it, put the cards on the table.
“Ya need anythin’? I can get ya–”
“No, I... I just need to understand what's going on.” You didn't want to interrupt him, but you get the feeling he's trying to run from the conversation. “From this morning you've been acting weird, like... Like you're suddenly trying to avoid me...”
“Ain't tryin’ to avoid ya.” He shifts his weight from one leg to another, looking down.
“Yes, you are. Don't you...” Running a hand through your hair, you try to come up with the right words to describe something you don't know how to. “Don't you like it when I touch you? Don't you–”
“I'm goin’ on a run with Rick.” He bursts out, not allowing you to finish. “I'll be leavin’ tomorrow mornin’ an’ it'll take four or five days.”
He sounds mad, angry even... He told you he usually goes on runs, but he hasn't left since you got here. You never thought about this, having to deal with Daryl being... Somewhere else. “Daryl, why–”
“I gotta get my stuff ready.” He then turns around and walks away. “Have a good night.”
And he's gone. He's gone and the tears immediately start rolling down. You're lost, disoriented. A different pain makes pressure in your chest, crushing you, pushing you back into the bed. Something happened. You must have done something, even though you don't know what it was. Covering your mouth with one hand to hold the sobs that come, you wonder how are you supposed to do this.
How are you supposed to endure the night? How are you supposed to be without him? You're not ready yet. What if he doesn't come back? What if he gets hurt? What if he got tired of taking care of you day after day? What if he doesn't want you? Your touch, your hugs, you.
He's tired of you. This fragile, broken thing you are. He saved you, yes, but it doesn't mean he cares for you. Maybe you misread things, and your feelings blinded you. And maybe he doesn't feel anything for you. Only pity.
×
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hannie-dul-set · 4 years
Text
when jaehyun said he was picking you up to go somewhere, you didn't exactly expect to be found in the middle of nowhere. trees were lining the field from a faraway distance and the tall grasses sunk from underneath you. the two of you were leaning against the side of his car on top of a hill on god knows where with no one else but the stars, the moon, and the both of you.
"drinking wine straight out of the bottle— aren't you a classy man?"
a laugh reverberated from jaehyun's throat and he looked at you under the solace of the inky night sky. "let me have my moments, miss y/n."
you sat beside him on the grassy clearing, lightly playing with one of his hands and you looked up to him, only to see downcast drenching his pretty features. letting go of his hand, you sighed and sat up straight, stirring confusion from the male.
"alright, mr. jung," you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's going on in your head? why are you being all sad?" 
he let out a huff of air, lips upturned into a semi-forced smile as he gently took your hand back into his, lacing his fingers into yours. "is it that obvious?"
"you're transparent, jaehyun."
sighing, he adjusted his position and took another swig at the hard drink. "you know how overboard some girls may get around me, right?"
"i've witnessed first hand during your party," you laugh, remembering how panicked he looked during that time. "it was a pitiful sight."
"it wasn't pitiful."
the words left like a soft whine from his lips and you continued to tease him, saying that he looked like a small mouse (ironic, considering his stature) being fought over by a group of wild cats, much to his displeasure.
"anyways," he coughed out, a light wash of pink dousing his cheeks, both from your previous joking and the slight chill of the night's wind. "there's this one girl named seonha— i've never told you about her— and, uh, i wouldn't say she's obsessed with me, but—"
"she's obsessed with you?"
you finished, quirking your brow at him and he hesitantly nodded. "yes, you can say that."
"hm," you hummed. "why, what'd she do?"
"a lot of things," he sighed. "her family is closely knitted with mine so i'd met here during one of their charity auctions. since then, she wouldn't stop following me around— in my office building, when i'm out with mark and johnny. hell, even when i'm out of the country."
jaehyun's exasperation ran through his voice as he continued to tell you about the girl.
"she'd even stir up dating rumors about us two which is messed up all on its own. you could argue that at least there's only one of them bothering me, but it's like selling off a few floods for one gigantic storm," the now empty wine bottle was long forgotten on the ground. jaehyun went on with his rant, raking his free hand into his hair. "johnny and mark had told me to file a restraining order, but that wouldn't do anything considering their family's influence, so i have no choice but to deal with her."
the light chirping of crickets amplified the depth of the evening. you guessed it was already around ten, maybe even later than that. it crossed your mind for a short moment that you had work tomorrow, but that thought quickly diminished into thin air.
"has she still been bothering you lately? i don't think i noticed her around you before," you asked, moving your head away to look at him. his hair was in a slight mess and he was slightly tinged pink. yet underneath the glow of the moonlight, he was still as tantalizing as the nighttime sky.
"she's been on a trip to italy these past few months," he softly replied, gazing down at you like your very own moon. "but she's also been texting me nonstop so that's something."
"well, at least she's not here right now."
"about that," jaehyun enunciated. "she's coming back here in a week."
you went silent and jaehyun could feel his heartbeat slowly but surely rising. were you upset that he'd just told you now? did knowing about seonha bother you? it's not easy for jaehyun to read people's emotions— he'd always been lacking with that category. the longer your silence, the tighter his chest got.
"will you be okay?"
like a sudden breath of warmth, your voice pierced through him and suddenly he can breathe again.
"do i have to protect you like last time?"
the teasing tone in your voice relieved him but at the same time it caused him to glare at you, feigning fake offense and you laughed at him. at least he knew you're not upset.
"i'll be fine, you don't have to worry," he said, giving you a smile of assurance. you detached your hand from his and decided to scoot closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and he naturally found his arm around your waist. "but, enough about that— how was your day, miss y/n?"
"you don't wanna hear about my day. it's as boring as it could get," you reasoned, letting out a small yawn afterwards.
"i do want to hear," he pressed. "i don't mind if it's boring or not. i like listening to you speak."
he caught you off guard with that, to say the least, and you quickly snapped your head to face him. your mind concluded that it was a fatal mistake to do that since now your faces are mere centimeters apart, noses nearly touching. the cold air that was once biting at your skin was suddenly deemed nonexistent due to the sudden rising of the heat.
"a—alright," you stammered, diverting your attention to the sky instead. "if you fall asleep listening, then don't say i didn't warn you, jaehyun."
and so you went on about your day. starting from how you almost got late to your first job because jungwoo and donghyuck thought it was a good idea to barge into your house at four in the morning for a sudden non-sleepover sleepover. then you told him about the adorably gigantic dog you spotted while you were headed for lunch. and now you were talking about one annoying customer you had earlier in the bakery.
"there were five other people in line after her, but apparently getting her blueberry muffin to exactly a hundred-ninety degrees fahrenheit was much more important," you groaned, dropping your head back against the steel of the car. "and of course, i went and reheated one damned muffin just so she would stop complaining."
jaehyun swore he was listening to you. he was attentive— very attentive, and paid the utmost attention to any changes on your features— the way brows bunched up whenever you stop to think for a moment, the way your cheeks were slightly flushed and how you tried to hide it with your hair, the way your lips enunciated each vowel and each consonant and—
fucking hell, your lips.
halfway through your muffin story, his ears were suddenly muffled, his surroundings were a blur, and all he could think about was how your lips would feel against his.
"hyuck always tells me that i'm a bit of a pushover sometimes, and i'm starting to think he's right."
he could hear his heart ringing against his ears. you paused for a moment, sinking your teeth over the plush of your lip in the midst of thought and jaehyun felt like he was being driven into a dangerous corner. 
"do you think i'm a pushover, jae?" your head jolted to face jaehyun and his breath was suddenly caught inside his throat along with the sudden thoughts of you overlapping with more thoughts of you, bringing his mind to a combustible state of disarray. "jaehyun? you alright there?"
"oh— um, sorry," he coughed out. "i got a bit distracted, uh, what— what were you saying?"
his fluster was not only demonstrated by the cracks in his voice, but also by the way his cheeks were flaring scarlet and how he refused to look at you.
"distracted by what exactly?" you questioned.
jaehyun was a smart man. having graduated earlier than his peers and landing such a respectable spot in the company at a young age, you'd think he'd be articulate in every situation thrown at him, but somehow he found himself tripping over his own words."will— will i sound stupid if i say i got distracted by you?" 
oh my god.
"no no," you laughed, your heart suddenly caged inside an untamed whirlwind. you gently moved your left hand over his face, making him look into you. giddiness tugged at your cheeks, releasing an uncontrollable smile. "it's not stupid at all."
a simultaneous burst of dizzying bliss ruptured between the both of you— coming in the form of the identical beams on both of your faces, staring into each others' eyes as if the moon wasn't the brightest thing in the night.
and somehow, under the spectacle of a million stars,
you kissed.
it hadn't dawned on you that you'd waited for this moment to happen until it actually did. soft lips brushing against yours, rousing an unspeakable rush of heat. it was gentle at first— like the light tremors on the sea until the waves suddenly crashed onto you. his parted lips incessant against yours, leaving you in a buzz and on the brink of gasping for air.
until you felt him stop, abruptly pulling away from you with guilt ridden eyes.
"jae? is everything alright?"
"y/n, i— i'm sorry."
in the midst of your shared kiss, jaehyun realized something. and he couldn't bear the thought of it.
he had realized that he was in love with you.
so, so in love with you.
"i can't— i can't do this to you, y/n."
you felt a lump in your throat and you stared at him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. was there something wrong— did you do something wrong? everything felt normal until now, everything felt right. but as you looked at him with tears threatening to spill, you'd thought that maybe none of this was right in the first place.
and maybe jaehyun had realized that, too.
"oh," you sucked in a breath, avoiding eye contact with him, and stumbled to get up from the ground. "right, of course. it— it would be damaging to your reputation if you're with me."
the icy breath of the air hit your face once you managed to stand up, the cold flooding your senses once more. "we both know that this wouldn't work out," you gazed down at him, only to see the glass stained heaviness in his eyes and you nearly broke down. turning your back at him, you swallowed, closing your eyes for a brief moment before choking out,
"i— i should go—"
"y/n, i love you."
you froze. everything froze. 
"my reputation, my image— god, all of those disappear when i'm with you," jaehyun's trembling voice seeped into every corner of your mind, restricting the air from coming into your lungs. "i'm… i'm not an expert when it comes to this but there is no denying that i am in love with you, y/n."
slowly, you went back to face him. jaehyun stood there, bearing his heart to you. the wind brushing against his hair as he looked at you with mist in glazing over his eyes. it was hard to not just run into his arms, telling him that you were also stupidly in love with him, but you held your words back, waiting for him to finish.
"but... with my job and everything," he stutters out. "i—i won't be able to dedicate all of my time to you, i won't be able to take care of you like i should, i—
i can't make you happy, y/n"
"but you already do."
there was a strong gust, breathing against your skin. you felt your heart drop to your knees, a constricting grasp replacing it in your chest as you felt the tears well up even more like a dam itching to break.
"do you think i don't know that? yes, i know you're busy— i know you have a shit ton of responsibilities to the point where you'd probably suffocate from them, and—and i know that sometimes finding time to have a single fucking conversation with you is sometimes impossible," your breath hitched, nearly choking over your own words but you went on. "but that has never stopped you from making me feel happy, jae. because even a single second spent with you can make make me happier than the rest of my life combined, so don't ever say that you can't make me happy because for fuck's sake— jung jaehyun, 
i'm at my happiest when i'm with you."
silence flooded. your breathing was scattered after all the things that you said, chest rising and falling in a repeated rhythm. jaehyun says nothing, only looking at you with an unidentifiable glimmer of heaviness in his face as he slowly walked towards you, closing in the space between you until it was practically insignificant. you could hear his heart beating.
he brings your face into his hands, not even realizing that you were crying until he gently wipes away the tears streaming down your cheeks. you look into him, his eyes pooling with oceans and oceans of emotions.
"i'm at my happiest when i'm with you, too."
a second kiss was shared that night— with a million stars watching over you.
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gold painted canvas
the classic rich boy and poor girl love story but with less prejudice and more happiness
28 // make you happy
a/n: woah it took nearly 30 parts but at least it happened ;)) this took three days of utter procrastination but i hope you liked it jhhxjsjsjs
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breakfast-cereal · 3 years
Text
Stupid For You (2) -Johnlock
← ← MAIN MASTERLIST
← PART ONE
PART THREE
!¡Trigger Warning¡! DO NOT IGNORE!: mentions to drugs and addiction, alcohol use, vomiting, hints to declining/poor mental health.
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Rosie's hair was in a slightly dishevelled braid that reached just above her shoulder blades
"Youtube seems to be helpful for tutorials. Slightly inaccurate, though." Sherlock looked as if he was about to write down notes.
"It's YouTube, Sherlock." John looked at Rosie who had a massive grin on her face
Rosie rushed to Sherlock and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, daddy!"
Sherlock didn't seem to protest and accepted the role of a father figure to Rosie. John was confused by this. If Sherlock was a father figure to Rosie wouldn't that insinuate that he and John were together? Does that not bother Sherlock?
"No problem." Sherlock ushered Rosie back to her room and then sat back down to work on the case.
John sat on the couch, sneaking glances at Sherlock while watching some sports game on the telly. He reached for his phone on the table and scrolled through it while watching the telly and concentrating on Sherlock. John was hoping this would have some distraction from his headache. The light from his phone just seemed to make the headache worse. John had opened google and was staring down at it. His headache was horrible and those confusing feelings had returned to plague his thoughts. Without thinking, John entered "John Watson and Sherlock Holmes" into the search bar and entered it. He looked around anxiously as if someone was going to pop out of any corner and catch him looking at this. The worst would be Sherlock. Results popped up raging from "Johnlock" blogs to articles describing their relationship. John clicked on the first article and skimmed it until reaching a part that specifically piqued his interest.
Sherlock Holmes and his partner John Watson's relationship is obviously less than platonic. Relationship expert, Tiffany Laines has confirmed multiple theories with her video "Debunking 'Johnlock'." Laines stated in her video that "Holmes and Watson are very close for just roommates. It seems it's Holmes&Watson rather than just Holmes and Watson. Based on body language queues, like the leaning in from Watson, and the way Holmes' colleagues described him as brash whereas it seems John does not find him that way. Can this mean Holmes treats Watson differently? Of course, we can never be sure with their limited interaction, but my speculation is something is going on."
John read over that paragraph multiple times. He read it for what felt like hours. He stared and analyzed it wanting to know what they meant. What the secret meaning could be even though the truth stared back at him. He wanted to throw his phone. Launch it across the room. Find whoever wrote that article and beat them. Instead, John put his phone down and made his way up to make some tea.
"Tea?" He asked into the air, hoping Sherlock would maybe answer.
"Yes, that'd be nice."
John prepared two cups and watched while the water boiled in the kettle. He listened to it fizz and at some moments John wondered if it would boil over. John could be compared to a kettle. He would fizz and bubble until he reached a point where he would just stop or boil over completely. John believed he was a calm individual, though he wasn't. It's hard being calm when you're rather vigilant all the time.
"I've got it!" John spun to see Sherlock pacing around the house frantically. "It was so obvious how could I have not gotten it!",
"What?",
"It's objects! The numbers were words and the words were objects. I've got a lead, John.",
"How did you manage to get that out of a sheet of numbers?" John was impressed. Well, not impressed, because Sherlock could solve a murder with his eyes closed and hands tied, but his skills were always impressive.
"It became quite obvious with hints. The necklace the woman had is a precious object so at first, I thought it could be something expensive, but there's nothing expensive in our flat. Yes, I'm assuming it is in our flat, as the woman left these papers in our flat rather than taking them to Mrs. Hudson, or some other person. Of course, maybe it's just because she was one to visit us, but with the pieces of paper originally the coordinates seemed to also have directions that were rather similar to the way to get into our flat. To sum it down simply, there's clues in certain objects in our flat." Sherlock seemed so animated when he talked about these things. He always strived for perfection and clarity on his cases and when he got it, it's like it sent him into a high. "Don't drink the tea, by the way.",
"What's wrong with the tea?" John felt overwhelmed with this information. There were hidden messages all over the flat. What if he stepped on one? Or got it wet?
"You added milk to yours. It's expired. Strange you pour the milk before the water." John looked at the milk in his cup that had small chunks in it and dumped it down the sink, sugar swirling down with it.
The kettle finished as John was there and he poured it into Sherlock's cup. He waddled over to Sherlock's desk and placed the tea, noticing the messy state of affairs. Sherlock's desk had papers all over it. The papers in the centre focus were the ones from the most recent case. One paper had computer, Jane Eyre, heart, written on it, while all the others remained blank.
"Heart?" John felt a strange feeling when Sherlock looked panicked. Sherlock looked like that word wasn't supposed to be written.
"Likely mistake. I don't know why that word is there. Stupid mistake." Sherlock quickly flipped over the paper and overemphasized the grab of the cup. "Go watch telly or something. I'm busy." John hated the way Sherlock would brush him off so easily. Even with living with him all these years he still couldn't brush off the hurt it caused. He wanted to get his mind off this, but his mind immediately went to drinks. With what John remembered happened last night, drinking was the last thing he wanted to do. So instead, John left the flat.
He walked the opposite way from the pub. His mind thought of one thing and one thing only; Sherlock. He felt like one of those articles as he speculated what heart could be. Does Sherlock have a secret photo album of Irene Adler? John was sure that Sherlock didn't have any human organs (they had cleaned all those out after John screamed at Sherlock over the fact that if Rosie ever found them she'd be terrified.) Was heart meaning that Sherlock's heart had been taken? Was he in love with someone? John felt a spike of jealousy and resent for whoever this person was. How dare they have Sherlock's heart. Why can't it be John? John paused internally. Why was John so jealous? He didn't like Sherlock. He never liked Sherlock. Sherlock was a friend, but friends don't get jealous over their friend's relationship because they want it to be them. Maybe John wanted Sherlock as a little more than a friend, but he only liked women. His brain was just being weird again. It's because he hadn't been with any women in a while. He just missed Mary, and Sherlock was the only person around that he could be with, so his brain was just skipping to conclusions. John needed to meet someone. There was one person that came to mind, the woman he had met on the bus. He had always wanted more and now was the time for that. He could unblock her number and text her. It would be something that has no strings attached. It will help John get his mind off Sherlock. He'll be able to realize his feelings were stupid.
When John was back at the flat he felt strange guilt. Like sending a text to this woman would be cheating on Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't romantically interested in John at all. John stared at his phone and the text that was sitting and waiting to be sent
Would you maybe want to meet up sometime this week?
John shut off his phone, he needed time to consider. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He wanted something. He wanted someone, but this just didn't feel right to him. She didn't feel right for him. He felt like he would be using her. He would use her to distract himself from his own problems. He didn't need a distraction he needed advice. He really needed advice. Who was he supposed to get advice from?
John sat at a small table with a pink linen table cloth on it. The chairs were rickety and felt as if they were going to fall apart any moment, whereas the table cloth looked pricey and was clearly good quality. It had ballerinas dancing on it, and could definitely be used as a small blanket.
"What are you here for, John?" Mrs. Hudson asked,
"I need some advice." John expected Mrs. Hudson to be the last person he went to, but there he was, sitting in her flat.
"Aw, did something go down between you and Sherlock?",
"No, no, that's not it. Well, I mean. I don't know." John wanted to smack his head into the desk. "I need advice on feelings."
"Oh, John," Mrs. Hudson sounded genuinely caring. Or maybe John just wanted her to care.
"I'm not in love, before you think I am. I'm just confused and I want advice.",
"Is it Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson knew before John. The articles knew before John. John realized with those words, that he was indeed stupid for Sherlock. He had to admit it to himself. He can't deny it all.
"I don't like men." Denial, denial, denial. All he did was deny. He had realized, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. He may know, but if he ignores it, it's not real.
"I may be your landlady, but that doesn't make me oblivious." ,
"But I'm not-"
Mrs. Hudson interrupted him, "my advice is to stop denying it."
John pushed up from the table, shocked the chair didn't crumble. "I think that's enough advice for today." He hissed as he left the flat.
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Text
📷I took five minutes to vacuum my closet the other day. It was part of my routine cleaning, no big deal. It was just a quick thing to check off on my cleaning list. I removed some boxes of stuff in the bottom, a few pairs of slippers, and vacuumed. I replaced the stuff and went on with my---
No. I didn't.
No, I looked at the bottom of the closet in a state of shock and burst out laughing.
I have spent a large portion of my life trying to get organized. When I was a child, "cleaning my room" really did mean tossing everything I could think of where to put it in a closet so that it looked tidy when Mom poked her head in. I was the child with the cubby under the desk in grade school so stuffed with papers and junk that it was simply impossible to add or find anything.
This level of disorganization bothered and embarrassed me. It really hurt and made me feel like a failure.
As a teenager, my backpack also became a mess of papers, random items, books, and paraphernalia (no, not that kind. In many ways, I was hopelessly square)
As an adult, it wasn't much better. My desk was full of bills to be paid, papers I didn't want to face, things that were vaguely sentimental but not enough to display anywhere. My closet?
That was still the place where I hid stuff I didn't have a place for but wanted the room at least to appear a little tidy.
How long from a stuffed closet to a tidy closet?
It took about thirty years.
I wasted a lot of that time, though. I addressed it in cycles. "Starting now, I'm finally going to get organized!" I'd spend several hours a day over a few weeks cleaning, organizing, and playing possessions Tetris with my home. After a month or so, know what? The house would look great!
Then, inevitably, the house would no longer look great. I'd clean the kitchen well enough to prevent food poisoning, but more than that? Not so much.
Ever done that? C'mon, it's okay. We all have.
Being tidy over time is all about consistent action.
You can, indeed, get the house clean with heroic effort, just as you can work really hard to train for an athletic event.
The problem comes in when you do something intense for a short period. As I mentioned in my last post, heroic effort is unsustainable.
Several of my favorite housekeeping systems (Flylady and Unfuck Your Habitat) talk about starting very small – shining your sink or making your bed. They are so right!
It's not about getting tidied or organized quickly. It's about developing consistent habits. For a lot of people, that's enough.
But for some…
Executive dysfunction can interfere with consistency.
If you have organizational or distraction issues, habits may not be enough. Autism, ADHD, and a host of other neurodivergent issues centered around executive dysfunction make it hard to do things that seem pretty obvious to the neurotypical person. What? You need to wash the dishes after a meal? No kidding. Go do it!
As I was writing this article, I broke for dinner. Guess what is in my sink right now?
I thought about it, got up, scrubbed the pan a little, realized it needed to soak some more, and sat back down here to write. Sure, sure, I'll get to it after I finish this, no biggie. But if my sink was full of dishes other than that pan, if I had laundry on my sofa, a desk drawer full of unaddressed bills, and my phone beeping that I needed to get up and get my car to the garage to get the brakes done, would I be getting back to that pan in any reasonable amount of time?
*Hollow laugh*
People with executive dysfunction issues can find their problems painful.
Maybe some people laugh and think it's cute to be disorganized. It never felt cute to me. It hurt because I had a hard time doing what I wanted to do. I was utterly desperate to get my life under control. Completely and utterly desperate from the time I was nine years old. That's a heavy load.
Jokes about executive dysfunction aren't cute.
I know the whole "squirrel!" joke about distractibility is mean to make people feel better and okay with themselves. I never wanted to be okay with chaos. I wanted the chaos to stop. It hurt. It interfered with accomplishing what I wanted to. It was exhausting. It used up time I wanted to spend on other things. I wanted a clean canvas so that when I jumped from obsession to obsession to obsession, I could feel like I was using that time intelligently rather than as a distraction from things that were bothering me.
Late fees, court cases, and lost jobs aren't cute, either.
There's an ADHD vlogger that I really like named Jessica McCabe. She's brilliant and adorable, and being a little bit of the manic pixie thing is part of her brand. It gets people to listen to broad issues of executive dysfunction. People will accept and listen to that stuff sometimes and find it palatable if someone is small and young and cute. (She's a LOT older than her looks or mannerisms would indicate, by the way).
So, the brilliant part. Quite sure McCabe knows what she's doing with that because sometimes she drops the adorable thing. The pain of being disorganized or having a hard time directing attention is very, very clear. If she weren't so cute, it would be unlikely as many people would listen to the important things she is saying. There's more to her than cute by a long shot. (And don't get me started on the sexism of it).
But that whole "cute" thing about disorganization. It's not so cute when unpaid bills land you in court. That has happened to me. With money in the BANK, that has happened to me! (Or without money. *shrugs* That, too). It's not cute when you have to buy a car at interest rates that are close to what you'd pay on a credit card. Yeah, that's happened, too. That we're in good financial shape now is a miracle.
There is a cultural narrative of *giggle* *giggle* "I'm so distractable!" to try to ameliorate the pain of being disorganized. Know what? It's not funny. It hurts.
Proscriptive solutions won't work.
I use a Bullet Journal just about with the out-of-the-box method that Ryder Carrol posted in that first video he did about it. I tried it, and it clicked.
Know what wouldn't have clicked? Someone making me do it when I was fifteen.
This is where you, if you have problems with executive dysfunction, might wonder if I can provide an answer for you. Know what? I can't.
I can say, "You need a Bullet Journal." I mean, I'll think it. I wouldn't say it. Know why? It won't necessarily work for you.
What I will say is that you need to find methods that work for you.
"Okay, smartybrat," I hear you cry, "if you can't offer a solution, what do I do?"
Create systems that support you
This is going to look different depending on how you think. Does a beepy reminder go bing! and prompt you to do stuff? Do you like to have a menu of tasks that you choose from depending on how easily they grab your attention in the moment?
What primes you to take action?
What plans have you followed through on (c'mon, you do have some if you're alive past 20), and what about them made you feel good?
My husband doesn't use a Bullet Journal. He plans his day using a calendar app. If there's an interrupt to a task, he'll move it to another free time. When you first try this, I strongly encourage you to multiply your estimation of task time by at least four until you get good at estimating how long something will take. If you have executive dysfunction issues you're struggling with, I'd bet at least a nickel that you're not good at estimating how long things take yet.
What stops you from taking action? Can you remove the interrupts?
A simple example would be to take the dirty clothes hamper's lid off if that's enough to discourage you from tossing your clothes in the hamper. Still, I'm not talking about "Tips 'n Tricks" here. I hate tips 'n tricks! They're like taking a Tylenol when you cut off your leg. You need to extrapolate that to life systems to support how you want to live.
Your system is useless until you define "good enough."
I could skip the next two or three times I need to vacuum my closet, and I wouldn't care. If I get to it every year or so, it's absolutely good enough. "Good enough" means I address my paperwork file once a week and clear it out. I don't have to do it every day unless I feel like it. "Good enough" is walking for five minutes on the hour around my living room until I get my 10,000 steps in. I don't have to walk for three miles unless I want to. "Good enough" is spreading up the bed and tossing the shams at the head. I don't have to bounce a quarter off the damn thing unless I get a wild hare to do that sometimes. Don't give yourself an image of perfection you have to attain, or you'll do nothing.
It's okay for "good enough" to change
Remember how it took thirty years to get to vacuuming a closet? There was a time when that chore wasn't on the "good enough" list, and ya know what? That's fine. Have your "good enough" be slightly, but only slightly, ahead of what you're currently doing if you want to make improvements. Incremental improvements over time, and I mean decades, are pretty dramatic when you look back.
Good enough can stay good enough
My exercise parameters have me getting in an average of 10,000 steps a day as measured over a month. That is never going to change. If the Spirit moves me, I'll do more. But I'm not going to keep raising the bar over and over and over. This is it. I'm good. I'm maintaining.
It takes decades to get your life in order. What small thing will you do today?
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becesswonderwall · 5 years
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Rough day! But here’s one of the thousand photos I have, that can make me smile in some ways and be grateful!
Still thank you for everything. For the code! Sa makagets lang. Ganun pa din kasi siguro tlga katibay friendship namin. This was taken Saturday, 9/14/19 with beshie which I blur her muna dito hihi, sorry beshie. But I focus my selfie alone muna😬 just for this time. Showing how the days...being around by only you beshie, made me smile! Thank you for always being there. Coz. Never thought that even in codes in someone's special day I'm included daw. Should I assume? Coz there was an ate girl kasi kng makapersist at mang issue ng obvious. Oo na. I've been too black and red, and emerald green lately, and so what when roses and sunflowers and yellows are my favorites? So what? (Nabasa lang writings ko may meaning agad?) Gusto ako maging assuming ni ate girl just like her...eto tlga si ate girl dko alam kelan tatahimik. Someone is having a brand new life, they're blessed by God and everyone and including me... Pero si ate girl pnpersist pa niya. Kaya okay nlng (?!). Oo nga noh (naniwala naman ako...my smirked faces.☺) I remember tuloy when that someone just got newly "D"ed... They've been messaging me about it. So what? Why should I care? I told myself. I respect that person's personal life, esp matters like that are sensitive. I would never try to "makialam" like ate girl and others doing...kung makialam ng buhay ng iba, wagas. I remember a song... I think that someone even heard me singing it before (had sung it because of hearsays): "I didn't ask, they shouldn't have told me... At first I laughed but now... It's sinking in fast, whatever they sold me... But, baby... I don't wanna take advice from fools... I'll just figure everything s cool... Until I hear it from you (till I hear it from that person kasi mahirap na mangassume, unless stated. Galing sa taong yun. Nvr believed it at first. I even lawyering like the bond of the two lalo na nalaman ko the former was my third cousin. I wanna protect them. Yes ayaw ko tlga maniwala coz I also saw a recent post of the former spending holidays with the family of her's former fams. But we got a chance on very slight messaging with the friend of mine, oo daw. Then I was like I felt bad for that person. Really... I didn't insist comforting or offering unsolicited attention, etc not anymore and of course unless asked, plus I'm type of a person that has a mentality "let's give people time to be sane." Now until the recent special event. Alhamdulillah. Finally, I'm happy para sa tao. No slightest grudge attached.) It gets hard, when memory's faded... And who gets what the say... It's likely they're just jealous and jaded. ( I told myself... Because I'm still a friend who will still protect someone's personal sanctity. Even if I can't be a friend anymore or supposed to be included or be a friend around in their present life. Or the status thing...kasi iba na. Diba? Gets.) But whatever meaning of the colors/motifs they're wearing on that special day. Why should I care? Maybe coincidence Lang. Or if not, and si ate girl na nakikialam lagi if tama, because I had some surveillance requests totally unknown people I accepted which now revealed to be connected with the poof and magic B!, well I'm grateful. It only means good. Our friendship is that strong even only in the air. Alhamdulillah. If all that are really true then woah!!! I have very very veryyy long hair and I need to cut some!♀‍💇🤖 If people still think of me on their special day...alhamdulillah. Ü Maybe. Truly. There's a strong friendship or special people in everyone's life that just cannot be forgotten and still admired or remembered even on special days. Well again, I'm very very very glad. Alhamdulillah. Ü They will always remembered for me as good people. Especially sis Hice0303. I super miss sisko so much. Hope one day magkabonding din kami just like before and it's guilt free now. There'll be no more issues. It's all a fresh start. For good for everyone of us. In shaa Allah. Alhamdulillah.✨
And that's why I'm trying to bring back the positivity without tension. Showing how keeping forward towards life for all of us is a blessing. A mercy from Allah. (And only that sorry for my untimely barging in suicidal thoughts sometimes, ever since I'm like that kind of a person. Yes hoho. Poor me.😣 But some friends says it's okay maybe to feel what I feel, because maybe I should be grateful for having a soul of Umar Ibn Al khattab every time. For a great sadness and fear of not pleasing the Almighty in anyway I know. None of their other friends daw to have soul like mine that's why they always see me as truly precious in them. Naks.😬 Sometimes napapagaan loob ko pagnaririnig ko yun sknla. Hope Allah will always forgive us all. Ameen.)
Hope too all of them, family and friends, and the newly weeded😂 (for fun only the weed) will always include me in their prayers.
Ameen.❣💌
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