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thatgirlwritingficsatnight · 3 years

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Odi et Amo I

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

Catullus, 85

After a few years of working in the USA for Disney and playing the role of The White Fox in Marvel Cinematic Universe you came back to your motherland - Korea only to be greeted with hatred and contempt. To make things harder for you the universe sends you the most irritating neighbour ™. Will you be able to find your happiness and accomplish your dream of becoming loved actress in Korea without complying with standards of patriarchal society?

pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

genre: actor au

warnings: angst, foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 5582

A/N: Hi this is my first fanfic ever, and so there are few things I have to say before you hopefully enjoy reading it. 1. English is not my first language so there may be some grammatical errors. I’m sorry, perhaps in the future there will be someone to proofread my works. 2. I’m terribly sorry for my interpunction :( for some reason they don’t teach it here and so it may be terrible. I am reading about it more but it’s not easy for me as I haven’t practiced enough. I’m really sorry if it’s awkward. 3. This was supposed to be long oneshot, but I was told not all people enjoy long reads on tumblr like I do, so I decided to make a miniseries out of it. Let me know if you enjoyed it and if you want me to write some scenarios, or post more of my works (i have a lot of them in the depths of my drive lol). Love, thatgirlwritingficsatnight.

***

You sat in spacious sofa in your old apartment in Korea. A sigh leaving your lips as you looked through the headlines.

"The black sheep of Korean show biz comes back after four years in USA"

"Whose heart will she eat now? National heartbreaker came back to Korea"

"Go back to USA you wh*re! - internet went wild over L/N Y/N"

"L/N Y/N comes back in outrageous style"

Most of them were a summary or perhaps a reminder for k-netizens why they should hate you; it's because you dated who you wanted to and for how long you wanted to, it's because this one time in the talk show you told off male host when he kept asking about your private life and because the other time you told another one to stop giving you all the questions about clothes and make up while your male co-star got to answer some deep questions about character development and that's to name the few reasons that came instantly to your mind. Of course some articles had to focus on your airport fashion too. The conservative Korean society had a problem with your bra, or rather a lack of thereof under your designer t-shirt. You left out an irritated groan as you scrolled to the comments. They were vicious and vulgar, you don't know what else did you expect honestly. You tossed the phone and buried your face in your hands fighting the urge to tweet something about the nasty people and how they should keep their antediluvian opinions to themselves. You sighed again perhaps if you were in a different country you'd do that, but here with systematic misogyny, where women were supposed to always smile and nod their heads, here where they got paid 60% of men's pay... you'd most likely be crucified. Then again who if not you would come to your defense? You knew the answer — no one, that realization was enough to anger you even more. The blood was boiling inside you as you snatched your phone back and went into Twitter silently mouthing apologies to your manager who'd be blowing your phone in just a few minutes.

"Yes, I don't wear bras. No, it's not a topic for your article nor your problem. I also know it may shock some people but my dating life is not a topic for your entertainment either."

"It baffles me how Korean society thinks its country is in the group of one of the most civilized ones but still treats women as if we were stuck in 50s."

Your phone was already blowing with notifications, you could see some new articles already popping and soon after that it buzzed as your manager tried to reach you. You silenced your phone and left it on the coffee table while you moved to the kitchen. You got yourself a lamp of wine and watched always busy streets of Seoul from a window. It was already dark and it looked like rivers of light with cars and street lights constantly illuminating them. You were deep in your thoughts as you pondered if you made a good decision. You had a good life in California. You had your best friend there, a house with a pool and many good opportunities for roles you declined. In those four years you became an international star after your role as Marvel's White Fox — a gumiho superhero. You knew in a year or two Disney would ask you to come back to make more movies and most likely you would but you couldn't stay in the USA any longer. Somehow, even though it seemed illogical considering the warm welcome you've got, you still missed your home. You missed Korea the country that loved to hate you. You weren't exaggerating when you said they loved to hate you, for instance you always played villains in Korean films and dramas and the Korean audience loved it. They loved to hate your characters and so every time you tried to audition for a role that would be first or second lead you'd always be cast as the villain. The very first time you played a good character was when you portrayed the White Fox for Marvel, they chose you because you were half American (on your father's side) and because you used to play femme fatales and that was kinda the character. You accepted the role secretly hoping that it would change the way Korea has seen you. It didn't. They said you were too Westernised and that you weren't true Korean and had their own perfect casting with actresses that weren't as scandalous as you. Well, at least the rest of the world loved you. Nonetheless, you came back. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or for how long, or even if you'd work here or just relax; you were just happy you could eat unhealthy convenience store food whenever you felt like and that kimchi was a standard and not something you'd only find in specific shops. Speaking of, you craved some ramyun with cheese and perhaps some yakult as well. You changed your clothes into a pair of black sweats and a black hoodie and chose to wear a black cap and face mask as well. You checked yourself in a huge mirror in the corridor. Your outfit screamed two things: first was "I am a crazy murderer from drama" and and second "look at me I'm a celebrity". You sighed. Honestly what else could you wear? You decided not to change and went out to the nearest convenience store.

You walked slowly taking your time to get to the store while listening to Def Soul hoping lazy beats would calm your nerves. You bopped your head to the rhythm as you entered the store and went straight into ramyun section. You picked your favourite spicy one and grabbed some cheese, yakult and cherry coke. The girl working there seemed really young and you caught her yawning. She apologized and you smiled warmly although she probably couldn't see it through the mask.

"Don't worry about it I'm tired today as well." you said, and she smiled. You paid with a card and regretted not withdrawing any money so that you could tip her. You remember when you were just a bit younger than her, working in similar way but back in the USA; she’d appreciate extra cash. You took the ramyun to prepare it and hummed as you waited for the noodles to get soft. Food always got you to feel better. You were spreading cheese on your noodles when middle-aged men entered the shop. Soon you'd believe it's not your night or perhaps that you got some bad karma, or that you were just cursed. The men came up to the cashier and asked for a pack of cigarettes. You were about to slurp the first noodles when he spoke.

"When will you finish your shift cutie maybe I can pick you up?" He chuckled and the girl tried to smile politely although anyone with eyes could see how uncomfortable she felt. She tried to decline his advances with a small scared voice clearly she was too young to feel comfortable enough to just curse him out.

"You sluts are always the same. You smile at me flirt with me and then act all fucking.."

"Aish!" you didn't let him finish. And he turned your way surprised someone else was in the store. "I lost all appetite," you dropped the chopsticks next to the bowl and moved your gaze at the male: disgust was rolling off from you in waves, and he flinched upon meeting your eyes, "then again who wouldn't if they had to eat in the presence of trash?" You watched as his face got all red and furious, it seemed almost twisted now. "How dare you speak like that to me, you bi..." once again he couldn't finish his sentence this time you silenced him with your swift actions. You closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed his hand firmly. Then you put it behind his back and twisted it painfully enough for him to groan.

"Call me a bitch, I dare you." you said quietly, but he didn't respond, he just jerked trying to escape your hold. He smelled like tobacco, digested alcohol and grease. You scrunched your nose and took him out of the store. You pushed him lightly, and yet he still lost balance and fell. He shot you a glare full of hate and fury while you tried to remain calm. Truth to be told you were scared, yes you jumped in to help the girl, and successfully silenced him, but that was most likely only because he wasn't sober. You were silently asking universe to help you out as you mustered your courage and played your part of "fearless Y/N”.

"Leave or I'll call the police and tell them you harassed both me and the girl." He stood up and spit under your legs before he left. You sighed, a tight knot unravelling itself finally in your belly, adrenaline that was brought up with the surge of fury disappearing now, leaving you bit wobbly. You made mental note to thank the director of The White Fox for making you take those material arts classes, they came in handy. You came back to the store, you didn’t pay attention to the girl that watched you in awe. You just wanted to enjoy your noodles. Finally, able to take the bite you let out disgusted groan they got too soft. Letting out resigned sigh you opened the yakult.

"Miss Y/N.." small voice started next to you. The girl was blushing and smiling. She was cute, had long brown hair and a mole just under her left eye. You smiled back and it seemed to encourage her. "Thank you. You are like the coolest unnie ever. I will always support you and fight anyone that calls you names and.." You chuckled at her eagerness and sudden flood of words. "Thanks kid. What's your name? "Kim Seoyun." "Nice to meet you Kim Seoyun. I'm L/N Y/N." you said with a smile, and she blushed even more. You looked through the window and bit the inside of your cheek. What if he comes back when you're gone, you couldn’t risk it. "Tell me Seoyun when do you end your shift?" She took out a phone from her pocket. "Oh, in ten minutes." "Great I'll wait for you and order you a taxi." "Ah, unnie you don't have to… you already helped me enough and.." "Nonsense", you cut her off "he may come back and I'll sleep better knowing you are safe at home."

She nodded and came back to work. Leaving you with your soggy and lukewarm noodles. You thought about throwing it out but you hated wasting food and so you made yourself eat at least a bit although now it was cold and awfully soft. Ten minutes passed rather quickly and soon you found yourself standing next to the taxi with Seoyun. You gestured her to get in, but she stood in front of you and suddenly bowed deeply while extending her hands in front of you. Much to your surprise she was giving you a popsicle.

"Y/N-unnie I know it's not much but I wanted to thank you..."

You grinned at her while taking the gift. You quickly unwrapped it and tried it, it was strawberry flavoured.

"Thank you. It's the best popsicle I've ever had." You said honestly. Seoyun blushed and entered the car but before the taxi took off she lowered the car window and screamed.

"Y/N-unnie from today I'm your biggest fan! Unnie fighting!" You laughed.

"Mmm. Thank you!" After that car took off and you happily walked back home. Earphones in, phone in your hand as you decided to order some food since the ramyun sadly haven't been quite satisfying. You slurped at the popsicle even though it was the time of year when nights got colder. The taste of strawberries melted on your tongue. It was the first time someone in Korea told you they were your fan, it was also the first time a Korean fan gave you a gift. Despite the chilly air, and cold ice against your lips you felt warmth spreading from your chest. Grinning to yourself, you scrolled through different restaurants still thinking of what should you eat and then you bumped into someone or rather someone bumped into you. Popsicle fell to the ground and so did your phone with earphones brutally torn out from your ears. The man who bumped into you was in a very similar attire as your own he even wore a mask and a cap. You frowned upon realizing the gift from your first Korean fan was melting next to you. You were however about to apologize before he spoke in irritated tone while collecting some boxes scattered around you two.

"Next time watch where you're going." The blood inside you boiled the third time this evening and you snapped back at him before he could add anything else.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going." your tone was so aggressive it was clear all of the frustrations from today's evening build up in you. You gathered your things quickly.

"Excuse me..." he said straightening as he glared at you. His tone was promising a fight or a lecture at least. You didn't feel like any of that so once again today you didn't let someone finish their sentence, a habit of yours as it seems.

"Apologies accepted, asshole." you said fiercely and left him standing there with his stupid boxes in a state of shock. You got into the elevator and decided not to pay anyone any more of your thoughts tonight. You smiled at wooden popsicle stick and quickly forgot about the man downstairs.

Jinyoung was still shocked but also amused by your witty comeback. He knew he reacted upon his emotions when he was rude to you. He was just angry that he had to move the second time in the last two months. Sasaengs somehow found out about his last apartment in which he lived for only two weeks and just started feeling at home. Few days ago they found him, and he was harassed once again. Tired and angry he acted without thinking when you bumped into him and his belongings scattered. He wanted to apologize right away but you growled back at him, and he got irritated, so he wanted to lecture you or at least tell you not to interrupt other people when they are speaking, but you did just that and in very smart matter at that as well. Now Jinyoung was riding an elevator trying to pinpoint your face, he was sure he had seen you somewhere already. He entered his flat and sighed as he realized he had to unpack once again. He decided it could wait till morning.

You were woken up by both pounding and drilling in the wall behind your head. With long groan you pulled a pillow over your head but it didn't help much. You checked the time on your phone. It was seven thirty in the morning and you couldn't fall asleep till three - courtesy of your jet lag. You tried to ignore it hoping that you were sleepy and tired enough to fall asleep, unfortunately to no avail.

"Who the hell does the renovation on Saturday morning?" you asked your own walls with furious tone. You left the bed deciding to speak with the person next door. You didn't even bother to change from your PJ or brush your teeth, or hair, or even to throw something over yourself. You left your apartment in your bunny pyjama set, a gift from your best friend. Soon you were pounding angrily at the door. It took quite some time before the drilling inside stopped and someone opened the door. The man who opened seized you up and down with his eyes and coughed in his fist diverting his gaze somewhere else.

"Can I help you?" he asked his voice was a bit distressed. "I sure hope you can. It's Saturday seven in the morning." you were fuming, and he finally looked at you although he kept his eyes stuck to your face. "Ah... thank you for informing me. Are you working as personal calendar and clock for all of your neighbours or am I on some special treatment?" he asked sarcastically and smirked which made you: first bewildered and second even more mad if that's possible. "Let me rephrase that for you: it's Saturday, early morning and you are drilling in a wall." "Well, technically it was Mr Ahn who was drilling, I was enjoying myself with a book." He clearly enjoyed teasing you, there was this gleam in his eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit too early for a renovation?" your voice was seething with venom although you tried to keep your cool. "Quite contrary. I checked with the building manager, and I am only supposed to keep quiet between ten p.m and seven a.m. as you can see I even waited thirty minutes." He smiled at you and in that second you hated him, his stupid brown hair, strangely symmetrical face, weirdly tight cardigan and the fact that you couldn't do much since he was in the right. You just turned on your heels ready to storm off back to your flat when he spoke again. "Ah, and might I add I just love your fashion sense." he raised one brow and his eyes once again travelled through your body. "Excuse me?"

"Apologies accepted." Your face went from frowned and angry to shocked in a second, and he laughed at your reaction before closing the doors and leaving you cursing yourself, your luck and your best friend who thought it would be cute to buy you pyjama set which contained of hoodie with ears and a bunny tail and some shorts.

You entered your apartment, deep red setted on your face from both anger and embarrassment. As soon as you closed the doors the drilling continued. You cursed under the breath and went to shower. You stood long under the stream letting the water wash away both dirt and emotions. Once you were clean and ready for the day you’ve decided to ditch your flat for now since it was too loud for you anyway. This time you went for less sporty look but still all black. It was a turtleneck, slacks, martens and a beret. Chic and comfortable. You did your makeup and hair and went out for breakfast. The car was already waiting for you when you got downstairs. You pulled a black mask over your face and greeted the driver who didn't talk much and so you didn't have to worry about the small talk. You scrolled through your phone checking the messages you got from your manager — there was about twenty of them and somehow each was written with different emotion: rage, irritation, sadness, hopelessness and so on. You sighed knowing that you should probably apologize for the troubles you caused him. Then again what were you supposed to do, not react when half of this country is calling you names? You signed back in your Twitter only to be greeted by thousands of notifications. Most of which were trolls and haters commenting on your tweets with occasional death threats in your DMs. You tried your very best not to read each and every comment knowing that even though you were strong it still affected you. You were; however, positively surprised when you found some supporting voices. There was your best friend (obviously) who fiercely defended you and called out everyone on their bull, he even threatened legal action and you smiled brightly at his tweets, but there were also few Korean celebrities who took your side and defended you as well. Most importantly there were few normal people, fans perhaps, who applauded you and thanked for speaking out. You smiled when you saw user "Y/NUnnieFandomPresidentSeoyun" somewhere in your notifications. Somehow traffic was still bad even on weekend and it took you forty minutes to get to the café you had in mind. Once you got there however you didn't regret time spend on travel. It was café in quiet part of town, it wasn't very popular since it wasn't in Gangnam but because of that it was one of your favourites. No paparazzi, no dispatch, no other celebrities.

The place itself wasn't very big but it had huge windows and was located in front of the park so you could easily grab a coffee and go for a walk or just stay inside and watch people and kids spending their time at the park. The interior wasn't anything special either, it wasn't one of those Instagram worthy cafés. It had simple modern style. You came in and ordered coffee and some toasts and sat in front of the window. There were few people inside so you sat without your mask freely and wondered if your friend was already sleeping. It was around nine here so in Los Angeles it was probably midnight. You texted him asking if he's sleeping, and he just responded by facetiming you right away. His black hair was still wet from shower, and he wasn't wearing any shirt.

"Yah! Y/N-ah!" he scolded you immediately. "How dare you not text or call your best friend for over a day. Do you know how worried I was?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"It's not like you contacted me either. And put some clothes on Tuan."

"Never. I know you secretly love watching my chest."

"Gross. Anyway.. I haven't called because I was tired yesterday, you know jet lag and all of that, so don't get mad at me."

"How are you now?" His playfulness was replaced by concern and it was clear he wasn't really asking about the quality of your sleep which was in fact terrible thanks to your lovely neighbour.

"I'm fine." He gave you the look. "Really. Honestly I didn't expect anything better from what I got, so I'm fine Mark."

"I shouldn't have let you go. You know what? Those people don't deserve you. Come back to the USA and let's live together again I'll even cook. Or I can come to you I'll fight them and keep you company. I'm can easily stream from there.." You giggled at him and he grinned. "You know I'm serious though you can come back I already miss you anyway. God, I should have married you maybe you wouldn't leave me Y/N-ah..." he was whiny again and you laughed. It was an inside joke between you. Both yours and his parents would always tell you to just marry already but neither of you felt anything romantic towards the other one. You'd known each other since you were two and both of you had treated each other like siblings ever since.

"You should have and now it's too late. I'll find myself new victim and feast on their heart like a true gumiho I am." you said in theatrical manner while munching on your toast.

"Honestly who the fuck writes those articles?"

"I don't know but I'm pretty sure... Oh my god. You've got to be kidding me." you said and tried to lower your face down so that the person passing in front of the window you've been sitting by couldn't see you.

"What? What? Is that paparazzi? Your ex? Is that paparazzi rented by your ex?" You frowned at your friend.

"What? No? It's my asshole neighbour." "Never heard of him. Why are we hiding anyway? You can just tell him to back off. Last time I checked you were great at that." He showed you two thumbs up and smiled broadly. "I'm hiding because I'm embarrassed and I don't want to talk to him." "Why?" he laughed. "What did you do?" "I didn't do anything it was that stupid PJ you got me..." you whispered at him while trying to make yourself as small as possible. "Oh my god. One day in Korea and you already got yourself a one-night stand. This is not how I raised you. What would your mother say?" he teased you and giggled. "For the love of... it's not like that." you said angrily a bit too loud perhaps since the men in question who was just ordering by the counter turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. His neutral expression changing to surprised before it transformed to smirk. You cursed yourself and Mark and bowed your head slightly and awkwardly before you turned around to face your now laughing friend.

"You should see your face."

"Shut up. I hate you."

"You love me."

"What a surprise." Third voice spoke up by your side and you cringed a little before you put on your cold mask on.

"A surprise indeed." You said, your neighbour moved his eyes from your face to the screen of your phone carefully placed against the glass. Mark was still there, still half naked and smirking at you.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes."

"No." you and Mark said at the same time and you send him death glare regretting that you couldn't kick him right now. "I was about to go to sleep anyway. Love you."

He disappeared without waiting for your response. You let out soft sigh and reach out for phone.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The man was already sitting next to you. He was smiling at you and perhaps any other person would say it was a warm type of smile but you felt like he was mocking you. Constantly. You straightened up in your seat and eyed him closely. He was wearing the same tight cardigan, it was accentuating his broad frame and muscles hidden underneath soft, brown cashmere and simple but well fitted blue jeans. You had to admit he was handsome and had somehow angelic face which only made you cringe once you compared it to his personality or at least to what he showed you already. "I don't think that's a good idea." You said after a pause, his expression didn't change for a second, and he sipped on coffee that blushing waitress brought a few seconds ago. "How so?" His voice was sweet and melodic, it irritated you even more. "I am a celebrity, there might be an article about me having coffee with you tomorrow." You kept your tone intentionally bored as you played with the spoon. He laughed and you changed your mind his speaking voice couldn't be called melodic when his laughter sounded so beautifully.

"That's funny. I'm celebrity as well I think I'll survive." It wasn't surprising at all, he was too good-looking to not be an idol, a model or an actor perhaps. You held back another sigh. You could already see the headlines "Y/N attacks again will this man keep up with her appetite" or perhaps "One day in Korea, and she already dates — check out Y/N and her new boy toy". "Yeah I doubt it." you said but quickly added. "Weren't you supposed to renovate your apartment anyway?" "I left it to Mr Ahn it got too loud for me to read in peace."

"I can imagine." Sarcasm was basically dripping from your tongue which only seemed to amuse him even more. His eyes were now twinkling and you thought that he must be a devil in disguise. "I must say it's very lucky that I met you here. What are the odds, right?" "Ah I wouldn't call it lucky, that's for sure." You were currently planning how to escape from this conversation. "So how about we get to know each other a bit better?" He proposed with a warm smile. "I don't think so. I don't even know you." "Oh. That's harsh you do know me. I'm your neighbour and this is our third meeting." He placed a hand over his heart and frowned in pain and you wondered how can one still look handsome while frowning before he continued. "Besides I can fix that. I'm Park Jinyoung nice to meet you. See now we know each other." You fought and urge to roll your eyes and you summoned the most polite looking smile you had in your arsenal. Your phone rang before you could say anything and you've never been more happy to see your manager's face appearing on your screen.

"I'm sorry I have to take it." you said politely, and he just nodded. "Oh I wasn't expecting you to pick up." "Ah manager-nim don't be like that I haven't been picking up only for one day." "Why are you so polite are you with someone?" "Yes." You glared at Jinyoung, he was watching you with a smile with coffee in his hand. "Ok, I can call later." "No!" you almost screamed and cleared your throat trying to remain composure. "No, it's fine." "O-ok. Do you have time today? We should meet and talk I just got something that may interest you. It's really nice drama. I know you said you don't want to play in any of those romantic stories but hear me out this one is..." you'd roll your eyes if not for your neighbour's curious eyes. "Of course when and where will we meet?" You decided to cut off his rumbling. "Really? Before departure, you said you won't play in any stupid drama again." "Ah, I see. I did say that. We should meet today, text me the address then." Hanging up on him, you hoped he got the brains to follow up with text. He thankfully did and your phone barked. Jinyoung laughed again and you gave him confused look. "Did your phone just bark at you?" You blushed against yourself. Was it so weird to have a dog's bark as your message sound? "Ah... yes. I like dogs." You cringed on yourself. Somehow today in front of this man you were constantly losing your cool. He either irritated you or made you flustered enough to forget any eloquent comebacks or eloquence at all. "Anyway it was nice meeting you Jinyoung-ssi but I have to meet up with my manager."

"Oh you're leaving without even properly introducing yourself?" He cocked a brow on you and smirked. You stood up and looked at him coldly. "I'm sorry I don't feel the need." You were about to leave before he spoke again. "Ah… running already... startled... like a true bunny. Come to think of it... it does have a nice ring into it, doesn't it? Bunny. It suits you and you even have a costume already." His voice was so extremely mocking that you felt the irritation buzzing in you like electricity. Not to mention he spoke so loudly the waitress that was blushing at him before now listened carefully. You groaned internally. What if she writes about it somewhere. Media won't let you live especially that he is your neighbour they'd say he is already in love with you. And "bunny" was such a couple pet name. You were in the midst of your internal crisis before he decided to speak again.

"Have nice day bun.." You reacted before you thought, your hand slapped against his mouth before he could say anything more. His eyes got bigger, he was clearly shocked that you were so close to him, that you touched him and that you didn't really care about your language. You on the other had were fuming. You've met your fair share of fuckboys, assholes and idiots but not one of them that had similar status to yours acted with such insolence in public where other people could see you. Well, almost none, perhaps your ex was the only one. You kept your voice quiet, loud enough only for him to hear.

"Shut up. And watch your tongue before I pull it out because the universe be my witness I will and I'll do it with pleasure. My name is not kitten, bunny or any other pet name your buffoon head comes up with. It's Y/N. My name is bloody Y/N." You hissed out and his hand reach out to yours. It was hot from coffee and soft even though his grasp was firm. He took your hand of his mouth and smiled.

"Nice to meet you."

You took a step back and send him the look that must have looked like you were trying to shoot daggers at him.

"I'm sure it is. Now if you excuse me. I don't want to be late."

You rushed to counter to pay only to find out it was already taken care of by Jinyoung. You furrowed your brows and wanted to give him his money back instantly but your phone buzzed and it was your cue to leave. The driver was here.

To Mark 🐰 💙 : One day Tuan... you'll pay for this betrayal

From Mark 🐰 💙 : ILY 2 good night. P.S. He seemed hot 👀

You rolled your eyes how hot was he didn't matter if his sole personality drove you crazy only after three brief meetings. You sighed. This was not how you wanted to spend this day: enraged twice and on your way to see your manager.

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exhaustedfander · 4 years

Text

First Comes Love: Chapter Five

Chapter Summary: Patton and Janus have a good laugh about Remus and Logan's situation, while being very sappy.

Here’s some good, sweet mociet and apparently a bit of plot with Patton I hadn't even intended on including. Remus and Logan are very stupid with love but it’s all good. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated. Have a good day/night!

Word Count: 2,310

ao3 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

“Remind me why we agreed to this again?” Janus asked, his tone bitter. Patton, ever-the-optimist, took Janus’s hands in his own and squeezed tight.

“Because,” he said, his voice bright and chipper, “Remus and Logan are our friends and they’ve asked for our help.”

“Yes, well,” Janus struggled for a moment to recollect his thoughts much the way he usually did when Patton was holding his hand, “They asked for our help separately, so they can each buy engagement rings for each other.” Patton giggled at the absurdity of the situation they’d been thrust into.

“Exactly.”

“Patton, darling, surely you see the humor in all this?”

“Well, sure I do!” Patton admitted, “It’s a little silly to think about, but it’s also kinda sweet, right?” He asked, letting go of Janus’s hands and grabbing his coffee mug – the one with cats and dogs on it Janus had bought for him some time ago – and took a long sip.

“I suppose,” Janus said dryly, “Even so, it’s more than a little surprising. I never pegged Remus as the settle down-type in, well, any of the time I’ve known him. And I’d never expected such boldness from Logan. Truly, those two continue to baffle me.”

“Maybe it’s a little surprising,” Patton said, sitting down at the kitchen table as Janus sat at the chair across from him, “But they make each other so gosh darn happy. They’re good for each other, Jan.”

“I never said they weren’t,” Janus defended lightly.

“I know you didn’t, sweetie pie. I’m just saying, we need to do this for them. We owe them that much.” Janus groaned softly, displeased with how much impact a well-placed term of endearment had on him.

“You’re right,” he conceded, “Of course you’re right. Even so, I can’t help but think this is a hair-brained scheme that’s destined for disaster.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sour puss,” Patton chided, “Though, if that was what was to happen, would you be surprised?”

“No, I suppose not,” Janus admitted, taking a sip of his coffee before settling into some form of acceptance, “If you’d be so kind, could you remind me of the plan again?”

“If anyone asks, Logan and I are going to lunch together today while Remus is buying his engagement ring for Logan. Late, you and Remus are going to have a chat at our place while Logan buys his engagement ring for Remus.” Janus raised an eyebrow, already feeling an oncoming headache.

“So, you’re telling me neither of us will be seeing either of them today? We’re their cover-story?”

“Exactly,” Patton said, “In case they ask each other where they’ve been, they’ll say they were spending time with us separately and we’ll vouch for them.”

“And I suppose you’re alright with a lie in the name of love, but not when it benefits me?” Janus asked, his voice teasing. Patton swatted him across the table.

“Janny, lying about being sick so you could avoid a lunch date with my parents is a different story entirely!”

“I don’t know about entirely…” he grumbled irritably, but then Patton took his hand from under the table, the warm contact distracting him from his bitterness.

“They like you fine, sweetheart,” he assured in the same way he’d done countless times before, “And even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter because I love you.”

They’d had this conversation before and likely, they’d have it again. Patton’s parents were, to put it lightly, leaning more on the conservative spectrum. When Patton had come out as gay in his late teens their reactions had not been what he’d hoped for. At the time, there had been talk about possible disownment – Patton’s heart still clenched when he thought about it, how desperate he’d been, how desperate he still was sometimes. But with time, they’d come around, at least a little bit more.

If you asked Janus, he’d say that Patton would be better off without them. His parents were holding him back, it seemed so obvious, but it wasn’t Janus’s place to make that decision for his boyfriend, no matter how much he wanted to. He’d be there for him no matter what, even if that meant spending time with Mr. and Mrs. Hart – though that didn’t mean he’d do so without a complaint or two. It was obvious they despised Janus, but if they still made Patton even the least bit happy, then he’d stand by.

“I love you too,” he said, squeezing Patton’s hand.

“You know I don’t like lying if I can help it,” Patton pointed out.

Janus knew that well. It wasn’t as though Janus was advising he lie about absolutely everything, however, there were moments where a lie or two was necessary. Janus blamed a lot of Patton’s black-and-white thinking on his upbringing – though it took very little for him to want to push the blame onto Patton’s folks – he’d been able to break out of it a lot more recently. Janus was proud of how much of the strict way of thinking his boyfriend was questioning, but that didn’t negate from the fact that Patton still despised lying for the most part.

“I know you don’t, Angel.”

“But this is for a good cause,” he insisted, “Those boys love each other so much and if this is how they’re going about things, then we should help.”

“Such a good heart,” Janus said sweetly, looking at his boyfriend with utter admiration, that is to say, how he looked at him most of the time, “What’s a sweetheart like you doing with a guy like me, hm?”

“Don’t talk like that, Jan,” Patton said in a tone that reminded Janus heavily of a time where his boyfriend had threatened to “physically fight” Virgil when he said something negative about himself, “You’re wonderful.”

It was strange looking back on a time when he and Patton had not gotten along very much at all. It hadn’t helped that Janus and Virgil had before their being together been in a relationship that had faced a rather tempestuous end. Janus had a reputation of lying, one that at the time was not entirely untrue, so Patton had wearily kept his distance.

But eventually, when things were smoothed over with Virgil for the most part and he found himself a comfortable spot in the friend group, Patton’s walls had begun to come down. With time, Janus found feelings emerging, feelings he didn’t comprehend could be reciprocated, but to his utter surprise, they were.

Just as Janus had taught Patton that lying wasn’t altogether sinful, Patton had stopped Janus from fibbing as frequently. They helped each other, they made each other better, and neither man could be happier.

Being in such a loving long-term relationship with him, Janus still found himself giving into self-doubt from time to time. He by no means believed his boyfriend to be perfect; that would be an incredibly unhealthy outlook on a partner. However, Janus found the good in Patton far easier than he did in himself. He didn’t think of himself as a bad man, per say, he was always trying to be better, always doing what he could to be a person Patton would be proud to call his, but he had his moments where he needed a gentle reminder of his worth, just as Patton needed the same from him from time to time. And they were always there to give that to each other.

“Patton, darling?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you promise you’ll be able to lie, should the need arise?” Patton worried his bottom lip, the look in his eyes indicating that no, he most likely would not be able to do so, at least not with any sort of guarantee.

“…yes?” A sigh rolled past Janus’s lips. The hesitance didn’t do wonders for his case, that was for sure.

“Patton, if you’ve committed to this you’ll have to do it if they ask about the other’s warbots.”

“I can do it! I – I promise,” Patton said with a touch too much enthusiasm for it to sound confident. Janus quirked an eyebrow. “Or… at least I’ll try my hardest,” he said, softer. Janus smiled.

“That’s all I can ask for, my love,” he said, praying Patton wouldn’t be asked any tough questions by their friends.

While he was no longer as averse to lying as he had been in the best, that didn’t negate the fact that Patton was absolutely terrible at it. When Patton had first brought up the plan that he’d be lying on Logan’s account he’d been worried; and then Remus had called, asking Janus to lie for him as well because of course, they were buying their engagement rings on the same day! Janus was sure he was going to have a brain aneurism if it turned out they were buying from the same jewelry store and ran into each other, but he really wouldn’t put it past those two. Even so, Patton had insisted that he could handle it and that, moreover, he’d made a commitment to a friend and he was sticking to it.

The couple spent the rest of the morning speaking of the fact that soon their friends would be engaged. It was more than a little to process, considering Logan’s reputation for intelligence as well as the fact that Janus knew damn well Remus was no idiot. Sure, he said stupid things quite often and acted impulsively, but to know they were both individuals who for the most part were rational, smart adults made the predicament all the more amusing. Sometimes it seemed like the pair had only one brain cell shared between them, and even then, it was reserved mostly for love and love alone.

Janus couldn’t say he was entirely shocked by the state of his friends, considering how he’d endeared himself to Patton and fallen for each and every one of his charms. There had been and would continue to be many a moment in which Janus was helpless to Patton making stupid puns or swiping a dollop of cookie dough over his nose, or him stealing all of the covers in the night, leaving Janus clinging to him for warmth as if he wouldn’t be doing the very same thing either way. Logan and Remus had gone soft for each other, but who was he to judge? After all, he’d lost his edge the moment he caught Patton’s eye.

=+=

Remus nearly shrieked in surprise when he came home to find that Logan had already gotten there before him. he’d anticipated having some time to himself to pace the jitters out, peak at the ring a few dozen more times, and memorize his speech a bit more, but it seemed that wasn’t in the cards.

“Hello, dear,” Logan had greeted from his spot at the table, his laptop open. Remus could only assume he was grading online work from his students. “How was your visit with Janus?”

For a moment Remus almost asked, stupid as ever, “What visit with Janus?” Before his sanity caught up with him.

“It was good,” he said, hoping Logan wouldn’t press any further. He removed his shoes, walking up to Logan, who’d since shut his laptop. Remus’s arms wrapped loosely around Logan’s neck as he pressed a kiss to his neck, “How was your lunch with Patton?” He noticed if only for a moment, Logan tense under his touch.

“It was satisfactory,” he said, “though the chicken in my salad was a bit dry.” Something about the sentence seemed off, but Remus couldn’t quite place it and leaving it be seemed the best thing to do, especially in his wired headspace.

“How positively dreadful,” he said, sarcasm heavy, “however will you go on?”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll manage, somehow,” Logan met his sarcastic tone, smiling softly as he stood to embrace Remus fully, slotting their mouths together in a kiss. “I love you,” he said against Remus's lips, more passion than usual swelling in his voice, “I love you dearly. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying it.”

“I love you too, and I’ll never tire of hearing it,” Remus replied after he’d drug Logan into another kiss, heated and prolonged, “you fucking sap.” Logan laughed lightly.

“No more than you are, dear.”

“Whatcha wanna do for dinner tonight, Dragonfly?” Remus asked, trying to tame the pent-up energy that rattled in his skull. He had a ring in his pocket right at that moment! He was going to propose to Logan in a few days! It was all too much to process, not in a bad way, but in a, hey my heart might explode with how much love it’s full of kind of way. The thought of a heart bursting open in someone’s chest came to mind; Remus would have to write that down.

“If I’m honest, I’m feeling exceptionally lazy,” Logan admitted. A smile spread over Remus’s face.

“Takeout?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“What’re you in the mood for, Dragonfly?”

“Whatever you’d like, love. You choose.” Oh thank god, this would give Remus a moment or two to get his thoughts in order.

“Pizza it is. Let me go call the place,” he said, quickly slinking into their bedroom. The moment the door was shut Remus was having to press a hand over his mouth to stop himself from squealing out of utter excitement. He slipped the ring box from his hoodie pocket, popping it open and admiring the stone. He’d searched the internet tirelessly for just the right ring, and he was certain he’d found it.

“I’m gonna marry the fuck out of you, Dragonfly,” he whispered aloud, sliding the box in the space under the nightstand, somewhere Logan would never find it and dialing the pizza place's number.

Little did Remus know, there was a second ring box hidden in the closet that had been put there mere minutes prior.

=+=

#romantic intrulogical #intrulogical #moceit #romantic mociet #Sanders Sides #human au #Logan Sanders #Remus Sanders #Janus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #fluff #lotsa fluff #Remus and Logan have one shared braincell that's primary focus is love #First Comes Love #When is Enough Enough?#exhaustedfander writes #exhaustedfander

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firjii · 4 years

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Boomers are autistic/ADHD too

Yanno what I’m just saying it and maybe I’ll get called a traitor or whatever but that doesn’t stop this from being a distinct possibility: there’s a lot of untreated, undiagnosed, unacknowledged ADHD and autism among boomers. I notice it every single day and I can’t believe more people don’t talk about it.

Stay with me because this gets long.

They didn’t know shit for shit about the brain when boomers were children. Hyper or “disobedient” children were beaten or given some other utterly useless and frequently detrimental punishment. Institutionalization was considered totally acceptable in moderately severe autism cases. Therapy as we know it was typically reserved for people who were so cripplingly traumatized in some way that there was literally no other choice. It was usually damage control after the fact, not intervention.

Yes, autism and ADHD have some form of research history spanning several centuries, but your average regular person didn’t know that (and still doesn’t always, since the 20th century is often egregiously known as the century of “new” medical “fads”). Your average doctor didn’t necessarily know about it. It was a relatively fringe topic, so not all psychiatrists/psychologists learned it because it was a blip (or nothing) on the syllabus unless maybe you were specializing in children or developmental disabilities (and there......really weren’t a lot of either such specialist up to a certain point :///).

Everyone else affected by it but deemed functional or marriable enough to try living in the world just dealt with it, for better and worse. Many of the blatantly obvious signs we now use for diagnosis were lumped in as a personality type/trait at best or an intelligence marker at worst.

And I get where that comes from......sort of. Brian is a persistently loud talker, Amy is deeply claustrophobic, Sam gets nervous easier than some other people, Alex needs a tiny bit more time to hand copy an address. Who is ND on closer investigation? Maybe all, maybe none. You can show a few signs without them being part of a big dire diagnosis conspiracy. Far be it for me to try to call someone something they’re not.

But given how many people are disregarded or misdiagnosed in general for anything medically-related whatsoever, it’s too easy to use that line of thought to dismiss a legitimate case or just plain avoid a problem.

Some affected boomers thrived and found careers that valued (and even normalized!!) hyperfocusing, attention to detail, channeled hyperactivity, etc. (LOOKIN AT YOU, COMPUTER ENGINEERS AND VARIOUS TECHIE INVENTORS). Some of them had/have somewhat chaotic or strained home lives, but for all intents and purposes, they do or have done at least some of what they wanted to in life.

But many others didn’t. Think about all the kids who were called “unteachable” so they barely finished high school (for fuck’s sake it was hard to even get humane tutoring for dyslexia), could barely ever keep a job, and in some cases weren’t truly prepared for having kids because they struggled to take care of themselves as it was.

Think about the stay-at-home moms who turned into lowkey addicts or alcoholics to escape feelings of uselessness/insignificance simply because sometimes they forgot to or couldn’t do something that day and everyone around them shamed them about all those little things for years or decades. We like to joke about yuppy drunks (and yes that was/is a real problem), but it wasn’t always about disgusting social habits.

Many of that generation blames the problems they’re dealing with right now on age, and that’s a close enough approximation in practice that a lot of people don’t dispute it. To be fair, age does really do that shit to people: you forget things easier, you can’t always finish a task but you’re not sure why, you don’t always have the energy you want/need, etc. Sometimes age is just age.

But I remember differently. I remember seeing those things because I was dealing with them too and couldn’t understand why the grownups were so upset at themselves when actually mistake XYZ wasn’t really a huge crisis and wasn’t a big deal – because there were double standards, both external and self-imposed. No one questioned them much with me – a small child at the time – but they were a big shitting deal when it came to an outwardly functional adult. I remember all the oddities, quirks, and problems that these people were dealing with as young as their late 30s in some cases.

That’s not age, it’s a goddamn brain issue. Age is now complicating things, yes. But so many want to pretend that they were completely normal before they turned 50 or 60 or whatever, at which point they promptly and swiftly had an overnight change. That’s not fair to anyone. It’s emotionally ruthless and medically sloppy, and yet a lot of them go on believing it anyway.

I genuinely feel that this is a reason why some boomers are so baffled or disbelieving of ND issues in their own kids and their kids’ kids. They can sometimes see younger generations’ problems in their own lives and even relate to them, but they’re so used to it – and in many cases, got zero help in learning how to manage it – that they don’t get what the big deal is about shoehorning people into miserable, unhealthy, or borderline hazardous life patterns. They assume that the massive struggle, intense frustration, and subsequent other negative health side effects are just….part of life and you either sink or swim.

And I…....kinda get that mentality because putting stock in “no excuses” does push some people to do better?? And yes you should be mindful of self-imposed excuses stopping you from doing things??

But now that overall lack of acknowledgement means that we have multiple generations who still default to believing that most of their problems are solely voluntary and conscious decisions, always and exclusively their own fault, something that they “could” just walk away from forever if they “chose” to.

We have multiple generations who still assume that they’re alone in their problems and even that they kind of deserve shitty or abusive behavior from others because they’re “bad” and “should have seen it coming” or “need to smarten up.”

We have children and grown-ass adults alike who are totally unprepared to deal with lifelong problems on top of things like broken economies and increasingly demanding neurotypicals’ social standards (because yeah, even though us younger folks warmly welcome things like the shift from calling to texting, that can still reach absurd levels of maintenance and anxiety because now the older generations assume that just because a few people are extremely “with it” that the rest of us are too).

And all because some people are so terrified of labels that they’re also willing to totally deny the existence of some very real medical stuff even though they themselves might be dealing with it.

I’m not trying to excuse crappy parents, bad home environments, bad education experiences, or anything else negative. I’m also not trying to blame all of psychology’s faults on one generation.

I’m just saying that it’s not that surprising if you really stop and think about it.

Psychology and neurology have come a long way in a fairly short time (granted it still needs to go much further, but at least we’ve started) and it kinda makes you wonder if things would be different now if our parents and grandparents had known then what we know now.

ASD doesn’t have an age limit. Just because it’s close to impossible for some people (especially borderlines and maskers) to get a formal diagnosis once they’re legal adults doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist at 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, or 80. It’s more a question of whether anyone bothers to, well...ask questions.

So yes, some people are just unapologetic assholes who don’t want to hear the truth or entertain any notions other than their own, even after being presented with hard evidence. They’re obsessed with normality, sometimes to the point of fetishization. Fuck them entirely, I agree.

But don’t assume that the younger generations own the copyright on neurodivergency. We just happen to live in a time when it’s starting to be less deniable so some of us can take action sooner to deal with it.

#asd #autism #adhd #adult autism #boomers #adult adhd #generational problems #baby boomer generation #boomers vs millenials #boomers vs gen z

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your-world-with-nct · 5 years

Text

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 — 𝐥𝐦𝐤

➵ pairing: mark x female reader

➵ genre: angst, suggestive, underground rapper au

➵ warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, unhealthy relationship themes

➵ word count: 6.1k

➵ summary: you didn’t know what you and Mark were; you weren’t enemies nor friends, you weren’t exes nor lovers. but what you did know was that you still loved Mark, and you never stopped loving him.

➵ a/n: happy belated birthday mark !! this is a part two to this blurb, and is inspired by the lyrics to billie eilish’s ‘party favor’. this is my first full fic, so i hope you all enjoy it and feel free to leave some feedback too!

August 2 - the significance of the date was written in the scars of your heart, forever known as, one: Mark’s birthday, and, two: what would’ve been yours and Mark’s two year anniversary. Ahh, Mark Lee.

The boy that became all of your firsts, kisses and the like; the boy that harnessed the musical talent of a professional or a prodigy, despite his small, underground career; the boy that was just a shy bean beneath his tough, street-wise exterior; the boy that knew your darkest secrets and told you his; the boy that promised you happiness till the end. But he was also that same boy that took advantage of you and lied to you; the boy who stole your heart, and never gave it back; the boy who was better at lyrics than love. He was such a mystery to you, like a code you couldn’t quite seem to decipher.

Even after the abrupt ending of your relationship, Mark was always there, with you, as if nothing had happened between you two. From the evenings where he was out cold after a long night at the bar, calling you to pick him up, to the early hours of the morning where he needed some feedback for his newly produced tracks, he somehow managed to keep you in his life, relying on him the way you relied on oxygen. Mark had you wrapped around his little finger - you would do anything just to get close to him again - and you both knew it.

There was one slight issue, though, which was the fact that you didn’t exactly know what you two were to each other. Yes, there may have been some occasions where Mark was drunk out of his mind, and you would both end up naked in his bed the next morning, like lovers.

But there were also times where he would ignore you for weeks on end, the only updates you received from him were Instagram posts with his rapper friends, paired with cryptic captions that were clearly targeting you, like exes.

However, no matter what Mark did, you would always come crawling back to him and his addictive love, because you were trapped in his trance, and didn’t want to be released from it either.

Once again, you were stuck in that limbo of Mark not acknowledging your existence for another month - or so you thought.

As you mindlessly shoved spoonfuls of Cheerios (your failed attempt at a healthy breakfast) into your mouth, you stared at the cursed date on your lockscreen, when, all of a sudden, your phone began ringing, the default tone echoing throughout your empty apartment. The name that flashed on the screen touched a nerve deep within you, as if your senses had been awakened; one of those senses being your infatuation with Mark, which was rekindling and creating sparks in your stomach as you hesitantly answered the call and put it on speakerphone.

“H-hello?” You hated the way your throat closed up and your voice dwindled into nothing whenever you spoke to him after eternities of no contact whatsoever.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! How’ve you been? I’ve not spoken to you in, like, what, I don’t know, it’s been, like, ages now, hasn’t it?” Mark leaped right into the conversation, starting it off strangely welcoming, too comfortable for your liking. You nodded slightly in response to his question, before quickly realising that he couldn’t see you right now.

“Uhh, yeah, it’s definitely been a while now,” you let out a timid squeak, which was originally meant to be a polite laugh, except the mere thought of Mark clouded your thoughts and refrained you from thinking straight, or acting normal.

Trying to distract yourself from your awkwardness, you absentmindedly started playing with your spoon, stirring it in the bowl- which now only contained some milk and tiny specks of Cheerios - while listening intently to the boy’s next words.

“So, you know how it’s my birthday today, right?” he paused to let you answer, to which you hummed a small ‘happy birthday’ in response, “Ahh, thanks, well, if you’re free tonight, I managed to privately this really cool nightclub from 9pm onwards and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

You’d be lying if you said that Mark’s invitation didn’t cause you to almost have a heart attack, so it took you awhile to process the information he had just thrown at you and come up with a decent reply, “Okay, first, of course I can come, I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Who do you think I am - it’s summer, I have no friends, and I think I’ve watched ‘Love, Simon’ one too many times this summer,” you joked.

Before you could continue, the Canadian boy’s bubbly giggles cut you off, as he sighed, saying, “Wow, you really haven’t changed that habit, I see.” The steady beat of your heart suddenly accelerated, the fact that your ex remembered your only hobby, an unusual one at that, which he found out about almost two years ago, sent shockwaves through your entire body.

“Mhm, yeah, that movie never gets old,” you joined in with his laughter, then carried on with what you were going to say once you heard the contagious chuckles quieten, “Also, where’s the nightclub? And who do you mean by ‘us’? I’m just curious, you know?”

You tried your best to not sound intimidated by the potential answers to your questions, but, with your knowledge of who Mark liked to surround himself with now, you couldn’t help but feel out of place around them.

“The nightclub is called ‘Sun and Moon’, it’s owned by one of my older friends, Taeil, and, it’s near the, uhhh, I think it’s close to that one shopping centre? But I can send you directions later, even if you can’t find it, you won’t miss it, it’s covered in neon lights and it’s massive! And, did I mention that Taeil hyung makes the best cocktails? I can’t wait for tonight!”

The boy seemed ultimately fascinated with the place from the way he spoke about it, and your lips curved into a small smile at his excitement. ‘Damn it,’ you thought to yourself, ‘why is he so cute? About things like this? Ughhh, I love him.’

Mark’s endless chatter continued while you pondered over how adorable he probably looked right now, “And, as for who’s coming, it’s only a small group of friends - the Dream boys, my best mate Yukhei and his Chinese buddies from uni, oh, and Chaeyoung and her non-celeb friends are coming too!”

The first few guests he listed were absolutely fine - Yukhei was your best friend, also a mutual friend of yours, and was the one that introduced you to Mark; his friends were strange, but bearable though; while the Dream boys were a group of young artists Mark had the opportunity to join, who were soon going to debut as rappers with him - however, your brows furrowed at the unfamiliar name, confusion written all over your face.

You weren’t jealous, no, just… curious as to who exactly this ‘Chaeyoung’ was, “Oh! Okay, that’s great! But, uhhh, who’s Chaeyoung? I’ve never heard that name before?” The boy let out a dreamy sigh, as if he was enchanted by the mere thought of this person, “Son Chaeyoung is a senior from our record label, better known as Beastie Babe, that’s her stage name.”

Despite his explanation, you were still baffled since you had no idea who she was. The weird, subconscious ‘huh?’ you let out told Mark that you still didn’t understand, so he elaborated on the matter, “I shit you not, she is the most talented, influential rapper of our generation! Her debut single ‘BDZ’ literally dominated both national and Western music charts and her recent collaboration with Cardi B helped skyrocket her to fame, and I’m under the same company as her? Like, I still can’t believe that that’s what we have the potential to become. She’s just so amazing-”

A greedy feeling engulfed your chest and your heart began thumping uncontrollably as Mark’s words of admiration filled your ears. Somehow, out of anger or whatnot, you had managed to throw your spoon across the kitchen, grunting quietly as he failed to stop rubbing in your face the fact that he was talking to other girls now.

“-the moment I walked into her recording studio instead of the Dreamies’ was the best moment of my entire life! We’ve actually been spending a lot of time with each other since then, and, you know what, Y/N? I used to have a huge fanboy crush on her but, uhhh, now that I actually know her, I think that I-I like her? Do you think I should say something tonight? Drunk Mark is definitely better with the ladies than Sober Mark,” he joked, stopping right after he heard silence on the other end of the phone.

You almost screamed at his last statement - “Drunk Mark is definitely better with the ladies than Sober Mark” - well, of fucking course he would say that, that’s exactly how he ended up asking you out on his birthday two years ago, while he was drunk.

‘How insensitive can that shitbag be! That’s our story, not yours and Chaeyoung’s!’ you internally yelled at him, as you refrained from hanging up without another word. Luckily, your self-control got the better of you and you said through gritted teeth, “Haha, defo, I’ll see you tonight then, Mark, good luck with that.”

And with that, you slammed your finger on the red button, aggressively hurling your phone at the couch and cursing Mark under your breath. “Just fuck around with my feelings then, why don’t you? While you’re at it, you may as well shove your successful love life into my face and ruin the smallest fragments of our relationship that we have left,” you mumbled, trudging over to your sofa to collect your phone.

Once you unlocked it, you went straight to Youtube, searching the name ‘Beastie Babe’ and playing her discography as you washed your limited amount of dishes. It crushed your already low self-esteem as you listened to the girl’s unique music, and you realised why Mark looked up to her so much and wanted to date her, she was so much better than you, more gorgeous, more gifted, she was the ultimate upgrade from you.

Those thoughts resurfaced once again as you stood in front of your full body mirror hours later, Chaeyoung’s catchy songs playing in the background, as you couldn’t help but binge all of her music videos to try and gage the chance you had against her when it came to Mark. Turns out you had zero chance.

That girl was literally world-famous, her albums were sold out everywhere, and she had designer brands chasing after her, desperate for celebrity endorsement. Her self-produced music was mesmerising, something you had never heard of before, and her rapping was rhythmic and fluid, while her vocals were beautifully melodic.

Not to mention, Chaeyoung was stunning - like her stage name suggested, she did have the facial structure of a ‘baby beast’ as her fans say, and her hair looked gorgeous no matter what style it was in, her chiseled cheekbones were always the main point of her look, along with her infamous, enticing caramel eyes.

Then, there was you. A college dropout who was surviving solely off of your parents’ riches until they could find a job for you in their expanding business, you were the ‘rich kid’ that everybody shamed.

You didn’t have anything like music in your blood, and you weren’t particularly talented at anything, unless pessimism was considered a talent. And you definitely weren’t gorgeous, you weren’t anything close to it, which was justified as you scrutinised your outfit in the mirror, that made you look even worse than usual.

Initially, what you had chosen for yourself and laid out on your bed looked ideal, the black and white checkered skirt complemented the tight, white off-the-shoulder top and the black, knee-length high heeled boots, while the baby pink leather jacket tied the whole thing together, adding a splash of colour to it.

Now that it was on you, you appeared like you were trying way too hard - your exaggerated makeup looked disgustingly dark, the top showed off all of your curves and rolls, the skirt was a little too short for your liking and portrayed a slutty image that you weren’t going for, and the boots were chunky and big, and didn’t seem to match the rest of the outfit as well as it did prior to when you put it on.

You looked horrendous and you knew it, but this was the only thing in your closet that was even close to what those other girls would be wearing, the only thing that made you at least look like you could fit in with them.

Before you could change anything about it, you glanced at the alarm clock perched on your bedside table, showing exactly ‘21:00’, which you decided was the perfect time to leave.

Usually, with events, you would either plan way ahead of time, and arrive punctual and prepared, or you’d turn up almost an hour late, with a half-assed outfit and an empty stomach.

This time, however, you didn’t know where you were headed, so you should’ve left early, but you got too paranoid, thinking up random instances where you would end up getting there before anyone else was, which would make you look like you were trying harder than ever to get Mark’s attention.

The car ride to Sun and Moon was a daunting one - not only because you were twisting and turning down unfamiliar roads, relying solely on Google Maps, but, because you were jittery with nerves and anxiety.

Just thinking of walking all alone into the club to see a clique of popular musicians and their wealthy friends made you shiver in your seat, and the fact that you were extremely anti-social and very much intimidated by most of the party’s attendees made it even worse.

Lights of almost every colour of the spectrum struck you as you parked your car by Sun and Moon, which was one of the most appealing and exciting clubs you had ever seen, not that you had been to many anyways. You braced yourself as you entered the place, breathing quickly and heavily, before pushing the door open to the booming, electrifying atmosphere.

You were immediately drawn to Mark’s alluring figure on the dance floor, jokingly grinding against one of his group members, Donghyuck, and you assumed that the both of them had some pre-party drinks already.

Mark’s black, patterned dress-shirt flowed down his upper body, the loose fabric of it accentuating the shape of his chest.

His wrists and neck were adorned in expensive brands of jewellery, his fingers laden with various silver rings, the golden glints of his watch twinkling under the bright, fluorescent lights - and his ebony locks were styled to exaggerate his forehead.

The matching black skinny jeans he wore made his legs look heavenly, it made it so hard for you to look away from him.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the amorous thoughts flooding your mind, directing your eyes away from the attractive birthday boy to the rest of the room.

It seemed as if you were the last one to turn up, despite your worries, since you spotted Yukhei and his friends attacking the bar, and who you managed to identify as Chaeyoung and her friends surrounding and blatantly flirting with the Dreamies.

She was even more breathtaking in person - her platinum blonde bob framed her effortless makeup, which consisted of fuschia lips, long, luscious lashes, shimmery eyeshadow, and sparkling highlight, and her striking outfit, a lime green and black patterned tube top and matching bootleg pants, made her look magnificent.

If she wasn’t your ex-boyfriend’s current crush, she would’ve been yours, because, damn, she was hot.

You were broken from your daze when one of Yukhei’s best friends, Hendery, hollered your name and gestured for you to join them, after he noticed you standing blank and confused by the entrance of the club.

“Yoooo, Y/N!! It’s been ages since I last saw you and you look great, boo! Come here, you gorgeous little bitch,” Yukhei’s obnoxiously deafening voice reached you from the opposite side of the room, calling for you even though Hendery had already grasped your attention in the first place, causing you to shyly scurry towards his friend group, the heavy stares of almost everyone in the room following you.

As you made your way over to them, your best friend engulfed you into a bone-crushing hug, his long limbs entangling themselves around you, not letting you get a word in first. When he finally pulled away, it was then that you caught a full look at him.

“Thanks, Yukhei, I really wasn’t sure about this but I’m glad you like it. Also, you look absolutely amazing!! Like, it’s only been 3 months but I feel like you’ve gotten even taller,” you exclaimed, proceeding to compliment your friend’s stylish outfit.

The plain black-on-black aesthetic he was going for may have seemed boring, but he pulled it off so well - the tight-fitted, black long sleeve was paired with black leather pants and decorative chains hanging from his belt loops, and his newly dyed navy blue hair was slicked back to reveal his forehead.

He let out a squeaky laugh, one that only you managed to get from him, as he rested his arm on your head, commenting, “Yeah, I think I actually have gotten taller.” You rolled your eyes at his teasing, before interacting with Yukhei’s friends, who were a lot more welcoming than you expected.

You had only ever spoke to Hendery before, but Xiaojun, Yangyang, and Sicheng were all polite to you, contrary to their appearance and their reputation.

Yes, Yukhei and his mates were the typical rich playboys that you had previously assumed only existed in movies, with the designer loafers and belts they were wearing today.

But, they were just playful dumbasses who looked appealing to their classmates, and, to be honest, you enjoyed hanging out with them during the party, instead of lurking around the club, solitary and sombre, pining after Mark.

Oh yeah, Mark - the boys had been distracting you so well that you had forgotten about your ex that stood just four feet away from you, freestyle rapping with Jaemin and Jeno.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind your lack of interaction with him throughout the night. It had only been two hours and you thought that you would be so desperate to just talk to him and fix things with him, but, in reality, you were having a blast with Yukhei’s friends, listening to their uni gossip and discussing your favourite music at the moment, they made you feel comfortable and welcome, something that Mark and his friends always failed to do with you.

As you decided to have yet another cocktail, you approached the bartender, but, before you could even open your mouth, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Although you hadn’t even seen the person, you knew exactly who it was, by the calloused fingers, from countless plucking of guitar strings, that grazed your skin, and the embarrassed clearing of his throat to gain your attention, you just sensed that Mark was stood right behind you.

Tentatively, you turned around to face the boy you dreaded to see, your cheeks flaming with rouge as he scratched his nape and locked eye contact with you. Your pulse quickened and you felt your stomach churning in your stomach, maybe it was just the drinks, or maybe it was his mere presence that excited and aroused you.

The scent of alcohol lingered on his body, and you could tell that it had already took a toll on him, by the wild twinkle in his eyes and the unsteadiness in his voice.

Despite that, Mark looked absolutely ineffable at that exact moment, the beads of sweat on his forehead sparkled underneath the colourful lights, and made him look ethereal and idyllic.

You panicked, creating multiple, unrealistic reasons as to why Mark wanted to talk to you right now, so the first thing your disoriented, intoxicated mind barfed up for you to say was, “Sincerely, happy birthday!”

The god-like creation that stood before you sniggered at your outburst, “Thanks, and thanks for coming too! I just wanted to ask if you could hold my watch for a bit?”

You almost choked at the simple request he had given you, clearly, he had other priorities, ones that didn’t include facing you and everything that had occured between you two since you had last spoken, excluding this morning, “Oh, oh yeah, uhhh, yeah, sure? How come?”

“Ahhh, Dahyun just challenged Jisung to a dance-off and he almost flipped in excitement, he dragged me and the rest of the Dreamies with him to go against Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu, and it’s already pretty hardcore, just look.”

Mark vaguely gestured to the dance floor, where Jeno was b-boying and Chenle was screeching to hype him up (even though the younger of the two was sober, he was still as energetic as ever) while Tzuyu was aggressively booing him and Chaeyoung was comically cracking her knuckles in preparation, “this is a Rolex Submariner and I do not wanna ruin it ‘cause of a dance-off, y’know?”

You laughed along with him, admiring the way he delicately removed the watch from his wrist, “Of course, I’ll keep it with me while you, uhhh, do that. By the way, where’d you get this? It looks pretty good quality.”

He tossed a glance at Yukhei, then back at you, “Xuxi got me this, he gave it to me last night so that I could wear it today! Did you think I bought it? I could never afford this on my own, ha!”

His drunken giggles were the only thing you heard and you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment due to Mark’s casual manner around you.

You never thought that it would cross your mind, but you were beginning to wonder if he was completely and utterly over you this time.

“I’ll be back soon, just give it to me once we’re done,” he added, before making his way back to the dance floor where Renjun was doing some eccentric moves you had never seen before.

Even from afar, Yukhei noticed the dim aura that surrounded you, so he approached you, while you were ordering your new drink.

“What was that about? What did he say to you?” he questioned you, handing you the shot glass that the bartender had just placed on the surface. Accepting it, you took a swift swig of the drink, letting the liquid ease down your throat and settle in your stomach before answering, “He literally just wanted me to hold his watch, that’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup, and I told him ‘happy birthday’, but, besides from that he just kinda, you know, avoided everything that I wanted to talk about, and ran away to them,” you nodded your head towards Mark, who was now freestyling against Chaeyoung, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

Your best friend wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest in a comforting way, to which you plainly let him do so, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N, as much as I love Mark, he’s been such a dick to you this entire time. I wish he would’ve listened to me when I told him to choose to either stop stringing you on or to pick up where you two left off.

“But, instead, he’s broken your heart time and time again, making you think that he still wants you, and needs you, when, in reality, Chaeyoung had him under her control the moment he met her, which was literally two weeks after you broke up, by the way. I wish that you’d look past that image Mark had built of himself in your head and heart, and see the real him.”

It was shocking to hear these wise words come from your currently drunk friend, as those weren’t the types of things he would usually say when he was clear-headed.

You wiggled out of his endearing embrace, audibly exhaling in frustration as your head was invaded with sudden realisations and epiphanies, “You’re right, surprisingly, I’ll try and talk to him later, maybe when I hand him his watch back. But, hopefully, this’ll be the last time I have to even look that boy in the eyes, I don’t think I can keep doing this any longer.”

The curves of Yukhei’s lips turned upwards into a proud smile, “That’s my girl! Now, how about you play this one drinking game that Sicheng found with us? Will that make you feel better?”

It did make you feel better, a lot better, and you were enjoying yourself so much that you had missed the fact that the impromptu dance battle had come to an end and its participants were carelessly swaying with one another, too exhausted to move their bodies properly.

You noticed that there were two specific people missing, however; it seemed that Mark and Chaeyoung had slipped out while you were playing with Yukhei, Sicheng, Hendery, Xiaojun, and Yangyang.

Only then did you recall that Mark’s exorbitant watch was still in the pocket of the pink jacket you had removed and left unattended on a chair. You excused yourself from the boys and ran to your jacket, retrieved the Rolex and proceeded to search for Mark to return it to him, and talk to him.

You had examined each and every bit of the club closely, yet Mark was nowhere to be seen, so you decided to explore the exterior, perhaps he needed to get something from his car, or something?

It was difficult to convince yourself that he hadn’t left to get some ‘alone time’ with Chaeyoung, which is what he had told his friends when he had done the same with you two years prior, but the idea of it kept recurring to you as you ventured out into the cold night.

The similarities of your current situation and the time you had run away from Mark’s underground performance a week after your breakup were disturbingly accurate - except this time you were running towards him, instead of away from him, you were stronger now and wanted to face him, not cower away from him.

He was making your confrontation pretty hard, though, because, at the moment, you couldn’t even find Mark, so you came to the conclusion of trying to call him. Multiple times. And, yet, he still didn’t answer, and you hadn’t advanced any further with it. You still didn’t give up, as you pressed his name in your phone again, and wandered down the street, glancing side to side every so often, just in case you had missed him.

“Hey, this is Mark, I’m busy at the moment but I’ll be back! Leave a message while you’re at it, I guess, haha,” Mark’s recorded voice echoed from the speakerphone yet again, you had heard it so many times that you had pretty much memorised his awkward little ramble. You sighed as the tone beeped for the sixth time in the past few minutes.

A disgruntled growl left you as you proceeded to search for the unreachable boy, your phone clutched in one hand while his watch was still in the other.

It was extremely tempting to just take it home with you and return it to him the following day - but if you were really going to permanently detach yourself from Mark like you promised yourself you would, you had to avoid anything and everything to do with him, or else you would give up and let yourself be pulled back into his trance.

After seeing the way he acted around Chaeyoung throughout the night, however, it wasn’t very likely that you’d come crawling back to him any time soon.

You pressed the contact name once again, holding your phone up to your ear hopefully, awaiting a response. Turning the corner as you neared your car, you laid eyes on a sight you wish you never had done, and you swore you almost dropped your mobile along with your jaw right there on the sidewalk.

There he was: pinned up against the graffitied wall of the narrow alleyway, arms coiled all over Chaeyoung’s waist, hips, and ass, lips locked with her swollen, red ones.

You couldn’t even gasp at the horrific scene, you were in another state of shock, and your entire body was quivering and recoiling in utter pain and heartbreak.

Tears pricked at your eyes the longer they lingered on the moaning mess that was Mark, but you couldn’t rip them away from him. “Shit, Chae, I think I love you,” he breathed out, as she left open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his collarbone, her hands threading through his velvety locks.

That used to be you, kissing all down his neck; that used to be you, making his heart race and limbs melt into jelly; that used to be you, the one he said ‘I love you’ to.

“Hey, this is Mark, I’m busy at the moment but I’ll be back! Leave a message while you’re at it, I guess, haha,” the tone played again, making you jump out of your skin, ‘perfect timing, Y/N, what if he heard it, right now, coming from your phone!’ you huffed, dropping Mark’s watch on the ground near the alleyway, bolting away from the couple, towards your car, grabbing the handle and pulling it open as soon as you reached it.

As you slumped into the driver’s seat, you realised that you had accidentally pressed the voicemail button with your shaking finger, instead of the ‘end call’ button.

“Fuck, no, I don’t wanna record a voicemail to Mark,” you thought aloud, until a voice in your head suggested, ‘but won’t this be the last time you’ll ever speak to him?’

It was with that thought that the gears in your head began turning - it was right, this would be your last time talking to him, you could finally tell him all of the things on your mind, the emotions he made you feel, the burdens he put on you, and he didn’t even have to respond.

You could simply block him forever - because he wouldn’t care, right? You didn’t even need a response or an apology, all you wanted was for him to know what he put you through, what you had to suffer through because of him.

And it’s not like that would upset him, he didn’t care about you the way you cared about him, he didn’t need you the way you used to need him, since he had his (possibly) new girlfriend instead of you. So you decided to record your last message to him.

“Uhhh, okay, this is really weird but I’ll just get it over and done with. So, Mark, this is Y/N and by the time you get this, your number’ll probably be blocked, this is the last thing you’ll hear from me.

“I’m guessing you’re kinda confused right now, because you’re probably listening to this while you’re either drunk as fuck or hungover, but, long story short, I’m fucking done with you.

“Let me just remind you of what happened tonight, or last night, depending on when you’re hearing this. You invited me to your little celebration after, what, a month of not contacting me? And then, proceeded to tell me that your crush would be here, even though you knew all too well that we had too many loose ends that we hadn’t tied yet.

“Then, I get here, and suddenly you don’t even greet me, or acknowledge me, just like you had been doing for the past few weeks, while, of course, you’re glued to Chaeyoung’s side.

“Meanwhile, I was there, waiting to see you, since we hadn’t hung out normally since the break-up 3 months ago, and I knew, well, at least I thought I knew, that there was still a connection between us, or something.

“But, instead, I spent the entire night following Yukhei around and talking to his friends, and having the oh-so-great opportunity of watching you eye-fuck Chaeyoung the whole time. And, finally, when you do eventually notice me, you ask me to hold your Rolex? Really, Mark? I didn’t even get the chance to say anything more than ‘happy birthday’ to you.

“Now, I don’t know how you’re feeling about this whole thing, because, apparently, you’re now Chaeyoung’s newest boy toy, but, did you ever stop and think about how this has affected me? How this whole thing has affected me?

“Because, if you really didn’t notice Mark, I was still fucking in love with you - even after you left me - and I never knew why you gave up on us. Personally, I thought we were amazing together, I thought you were my soulmate, you were the only person that made me feel loved, the only person I loved, but, you didn’t seem to think so.

“Maybe it’s because you’re my first love, Mark, but I wasn’t yours; maybe it’s because I thought that nobody else could replace you; maybe it’s because of your web of lies that I got caught in - but I felt like it wasn’t over yet. It couldn’t be, we would find each other after a while and resume what we had, and we’d be together forever, wow, I know that’s cheesy, I think the alcohol’s getting to me now.

“Speaking of alcohol though, there was another reason why I thought that we could pick up where we left off.

“Don’t you remember all of those nights where you needed me to get you from the bar or the club, and drive you home? When you were so incapable of processing our history together that you just gave in, and let me fall in love with you all over again?

“Yeah, those nights gave me hope, hope that it wasn’t the drinks speaking for you the previous nights, it was you, and hope that you would realise what you were missing and come back to me.

“But, hoping is no good. You’ve actually gotta follow through with your hopes and make them come true. Yet, I couldn’t do that, since you always left me. You always disappeared without a trace, and then, suddenly, after three weeks or so, you’d be right back.

“But, you know, I see it now, I see the truth. You never really loved me, you weren’t lying when you said that, you loved the idea of me, the idea of having someone to rely on, the idea of someone else cleaning up your messes, the idea of someone to hook up with whenever you wanted.

“I saw that all throughout today, when you looked into Chaeyoung’s eyes, she pulled you in and you were lost in a swirl of lust, but whenever you looked into my eyes, you were so disconnected from me, and there was never any emotion.

“Mark, I’m not just your property, you can’t do whatever you want with me! I’m not your party favor, a mere birthday gift that gets thrown away after its purpose has been served.

“I’m Y/N and I’m not yours, Mark Lee, and I’m ashamed to say I ever was. If there’s one thing you were right about, though, it’s that ‘happiness is a lie, and it was only found in your trance’, but that’s because you didn’t make me feel true happiness.

“True happiness isn’t being manipulated into thinking that you make someone feel good and that it’s the only thing that makes them feel good, and that they needed you - true happiness is being free from the people that do that to you.

“I’m sorry, that I didn’t do what you wanted me to, I’m not blinded by your fake love anymore so you won’t be using me any time soon. Goodbye, Mark.”

And, with a few swift movements of your finger, Mark was gone from your phone, and from your life. He was nothing to you now, and you were no longer his - and, wow, you never knew that you would feel so proud to be able to say that.

189 notes · View notes

ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 4 years

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🍄🌻💐🌼 for the ask meme. Either or both characters (or mix-n-match). c: And 💫 for you!

You are a gem, thank you for asking!!

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

For Luca -

I like to imagine that Jacob was low-key the best cook in the family, and that he passed on his secret arts to Luca during their quality time. After he disappeared, Luca was left, more or less, to take care of themself. To make their own dinner, and so on. I’d imagine they’re quite good at traditional, muggle cooking. Their favorite thing to make, and they would do so as a holiday tradition, is Pumpkin Pie. (Treacle Tart got nothing on #BestPie) But as for comfort food, I think it would be as simple as fish n chips, especially since they like any and all things with potato. What really calms them down though, is tea. Chamomile by preference, but any tea will do. They make a habit of drinking it every night before bed.

For Gail -

Gail and Jacob do not get along nearly as well as either of them do with Luca. So Gail would not have learned Jacob’s trade, and while it would still fall to her to take on responsibilities that a child shouldn’t have to, the cooking part would not come nearly so easily to her. Fact: Gail burns everything. Including water. She gets easily stressed out and ultimately resorts to involving magic in her cooking, which, while it is a shortcut, tends to result in everything being tasteless. Gail doesn’t have nearly the sweet tooth that Luca has, but she does have a particular weakness for mint chocolate-chip ice cream. She refuses to cry in front of other people, so she needs some comfortable garbage food for when she inevitably lets it all out. One final note - Gail drinks a lot of coffee. Like, a lot. Usually without sweetener. But it’s a fix for her.

🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

For Luca -

One of Luca’s greatest strengths lies in their empathy, and how emotionally open they are. As a result, they’re able to notice the minor details in a person, if they spend enough time with them. The way Rowan firmly adjusts their glasses whenever they decide on a new goal. The way Tonks wrinkles her nose when she’s annoyed. Little quirks and habits like that, which help define the people in their life and keep them grounded. Luca lives for the people they’ve grown close to, the found-family that’s been established - especially as they get older and more mature, able to understand the failings and problems of the Fawley family itself. There’s a kind of unique joy in using this observational skill to make their friends feel better, too. Luca often feels like a burden, so if they can engage with a close friend and point out these quirks to them, it can make both parties feel better. Penny having a stressful day? Enter Luca to remind her to take her braids out once classes are over, since she sometimes gets a headache if she keeps them in too long. Chiara has a post-full moon “hangover?” Luca is the one who’s memorized Borf’s schedule and knows where to find them and bring them to her. Little things like this help Luca feel like they’re being helpful, that they belong.

For Gail -

Gail is simultaneously much more outgoing, and far less open. She engages with people but never gets vulnerable. She’s cheerful and pleasant, but only on a surface level. Gail boxes a lot of her emotions because she operates on a mindset of what is useful, and what isn’t. She might be having a terrible day and need to break down, but that wastes time, and doesn’t accomplish anything. So she buries it. Ignoring her anxiety allows her to come off as quite dauntless, but it’s always borrowed time. Sooner or later, she has to let it out. But when she’s alone and lets her emotions out, it can be quite cleansing. Gail has a strange and unhealthy cycle of managing her stress, letting it build up and then expelling it. Usually in private, unless she manages to find a fix, like Quidditch. But she always feels much better after the fact, and it’s these moments that she looks forward too. Watching the stars as the moonlight shines down on her tear-stained face. Getting that first cup of coffee in the morning after a night of sleeping fitfully. If she has a break-down and trashes her room or breaks her possessions…then repairing them and cleaning up everything can be very therapeutic. The satisfaction of catching the Snitch…that’s a high that she can ride for at least the next several hours. To talk about the “little things” that Gail treasures takes one down a dangerous path. Because while she is by no means an addict…she does have that type of personality. She doesn’t drink at all, period. But if she did…not only would she be a lightweight, she’d very much be in danger of becoming dependent, as alluded to, she unconsciously leans on “fixes.”

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

For Luca -

Poor Luca has an unfortunate pattern of winding up in the Hospital Wing or otherwise in need of medical care. Usually because of varying mental illnesses that the Wizarding World is entirely baffled by. Sadly, Luca eventually gets somewhat used to waking up in an Infirmary. While I wouldn’t say they enjoy being doted on at all, I also wouldn’t call them a terrible patient - but it just depends on who’s treating them. Being taken care of is partially a relief, but it also invokes Luca’s fear that they are a burden and their sense that they don’t deserve the care they’re getting. As for who would take care of them, I again have to give reference to the ultimate squad, the badger squad. Very likely, assuming it wasn’t Madam Pomfrey or other teachers, Luca would be cared for by Rowan, Penny, Chiara, and Tonks. Post-Year Five, throw Ben in as well. If it was their friends, whom they adore and respect, Luca would likely be a lot more comfortable. If it was the staff of Hogwarts, barring Flitwick, Luca would be very antsy and want to whole ordeal to be over with. They do not trust the majority of their teachers at all.

Flipping the situation in reverse, we see Luca at their strongest. They were born to be a caretaker, of any sort. To tend to magical creatures, to teach younger, less experiences students..and yes, to heal the sick and the wounded. Granted, Luca doesn’t entirely have the skill-set for Healing, since they’re abysmal at Herbology and only passable at Potions. But both of Luca’s parents were Healers, so they naturally picked up a few things. The main strength they have in looking after those in need really comes from their attitude. Luca is endlessly patient and forgiving to a fault. They might fail in a number of other situations, but this? This is where they shine.

For Gail -

Bringing things back around, being bed-ridden or otherwise incapacitated is going to have a strong impact on Gail, but it might depend on the context whether it brings out the best in her, or the worst. Because this girl needs a rest. There is no denying that she could really use a break, but she also occupies herself and distracts herself from her pain by keeping busy. She doesn’t really know how to not be busy. Grinding that to a halt could have unforeseen side-effects. It just depends mainly on how bad her anxiety is. The loss of control will either be a panic-button, or a source of immense relief. Though Gail will never admit is, she actually does like being doted on. She likes getting that kind of attention and being made to feel loved. Suffice it to say, her primary mentors and care-givers never gave her that love. So she craves it without even understanding that she craves it. Meanwhile, Gail has a squad of her own - mainly Rowan, Badeea, Talbott, Barnaby, and on occasion, Ben. If even one of them found her in a less than ideal state, they would not rest until she was well again. However, unlike Luca, Gail has a lot of respect for the staff, and a particular bond with McGonagall. She highly respects Dumbledore, and authority figures in general. So she would feel safe no matter who was in charge of her care.

Gail as a Healer or someone in charge of another person’s care…is again, a situation that would depend highly on the context. Gail is driven and tries to keep things professional, but she deals with emotional context just like anyone else. She has the skill-set that Luca does not. She got Outstandings on all the O.W.L.s that Healers want, and she earned those marks. But what she’s lacking is that inherent sense of kindness and mercy. How careful Gail would be as a caretaker would depend on how much she cared about her patient. If it was someone she didn’t really know, she would likely want to outsource it. If it was someone she disliked or hated…it would be a battle with her own integrity, but she might be inclined to refuse. But if it was Ben who was in trouble? Or Badeea, or Talbott? You better believe Gail would push everyone else aside and take control of the situation herself. She also values family above all else, so if it were Luca or Jacob, she would regard it as her obligation to see things through - no matter what her feelings might be.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

For Luca -

(It’s like this question was made for the Fawleys.) Luca has, and has always had, severe issues with sleeping. Such problems were exacerbated by a near-death experience with a Lethifold when they were young. It gave them claustophobia, insomnia, and an irrational fear of cloth. They would have night terrors, nightmares, and sleep paralysis. The only thing that pacified these issues was putting an end to sleeping alone. As far back as first year, Luca and their Hufflepuff squad devised a sleeping cycle, where they would partner up to share beds in the night. Had to keep it low-key, since most people wouldn’t get that it was platonic, but it worked wonders. I don’t know if I would say Luca is an extravert, as they definitely don’t seem like the type - but with the right people, they can emotionally heal and deal with things much easier. They’re able to figure things out with their friends, particularly Rowan. I don’t know that I would say they have any comfort items, but they do have “Beatrice Jr” the stuffed puffskein that Beatrice made for them. And they also have a furry, purring companion who is always guarding them. Talking to their loves ones to figure everything out is Luca’s go-to after a mental breakdown or a nightmare. But if they find themselves alone…they’ll either write an unsent letter to someone in their family, or go for a walk. Usually winding up in the Creature Reserve.

For Gail -

As I alluded to, she has the unfortunate habit of putting everything in boxes. To keep herself grounded, Gail will frantically try to normalize everything. Come up with an explanation for her issues, even if the explanation is unsound…or she’ll label the issue as a physical problem that needs to be dealt with, and take immediate steps to make that happen. Gail is a low-key control freak with a pathological need to have all of her struggles, well, under control. She manages, because she can’t not manage or admit to herself that she’s drowning. As a result, she rarely asks for help, except from the very small list of people she’s willing to cry in front of. Which consists of family, Ben, and maybe someone like Badeea. Though Gail chooses to isolate herself in dealing with anxiety, it isn’t helping and she knows it. She just can’t admit to herself that she’s desperate for someone to ask if she’s okay, or hug her just a bit longer than needed…because she knows that she’ll burst into tears if someone does. To that end, I think the best thing for Gail would be just that. For her to be reassured by those she trusts, and to be shown that it’s not the end of the world if she lets someone else in. Fun fact, she actually does have a comfort object. Wearing the key to her school trunk around her neck at all times, to prevent anyone from breaking into it - which has happened before. Waking up from a nightmare and grabbing onto the key until it digs into her skin and draws blood…again, it grounds Gail. Helps her slowly come down from an anxiety attack.

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

Gonna discuss them both at once for this one. Frankly, I think my favorite thing about the Fawley twins is that I ended up writing them as twins. In many ways, they feel like two sides of the same coin to me. This is because, while I have several AUs stewing in my head, I keep finding myself reluctant to actually write one where Luca and Gail were raised together. In almost every idea I have, they grew up separately, and didn’t meet until young adulthood. It almost feels like an instrumental, fundamental part of their dynamic.That they yearn for the companionship and connection of having a twin sibling…but they don’t really get that. After all, a twin is a free best friend, right? Well, no. Gail and Luca are similar in some ways, but different in the ways that really matter. They have different values, different habits, different ways of approaching life. They get on each other’s nerves. But ultimately, they do get along. It just depends on the timeline. But I also think it’s telling that Luca adores Jacob and Gail…does care about him, but only because he’s family. She pretty much can’t stand him. Likewise, she can’t stand Tulip, who Luca has always had a soft spot for. She’s much more lawful and has faith in specific values. She’s a pragmatist. Luca keeps things open, and judges things on a case by case basis. Gives peopel the benefit of the doubt. They’re an idealist.

Luca and Gail aren’t polar opposites, but they’re not Fred and George either.

Oh boy. That was a lot of fun. Thank you so much!!

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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Hi Tricia! If it's fine. Can i request headcanons for Bruno's gang and Trish,with the former scenario about the reverse harem one. Except the crush ends up with Trish?

Hi there darling! Ok, I did this, buuut I hope I have understood what you meant? If it’s not, please dm! And in case, gomen ç.ç

Reverse harem, but s/o ends up with Trish Una

(Under the cut for length!)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno is absolutely baffled. He didn’t even know that G/N and Trish were friends or, even more, they were fawning over each other! He’s a bit hurt, but it’s normal: crushed hopes always hurt.

Still, he’ll not hold any grudge towards them and, after a first awkward moment, things will go back to normality. He’s happy to see Trish so comfortable and happy around G/N, she deserves it!

His feelings were strong, so he’ll need a bit to tame them and let them fade. Still, in the meanwhile, he’ll do his best to be a good friend, not to make them feel awkward. He cares for them and he’d like to stay in their life, even “just” as friend and supporter of their relationship!

Leone Abbacchio

The moment he sees Trish and G/N all lovey dovey, his heart shatters. He retires for a rather long time, to try to fix his broken heart; even so, he doesn’t blame G/N. It’s their right to fall in love with whoever they want, just… it hurts.

He doesn’t talk to anyone about the whole thing, facing it alone. He knows it’s unhealthy, but he just can’t open up to anyone, not after this experience. Still, he’ll not fall into the alcohol pit: he knows better, now. It’ll not solve his problems.

Slowly, his heart, a step at time, starts to heal. He deeply cares both for G/N and Trish, so, in the end, he manage to put aside any sour feeling for their sake. Still, he’ll be a bit more distant than before and a little part of his heart will always ache seeing G/N just from afar.

Guido Mista

His heart, after a first moment of hope, literally sank, when G/N approaches him to ask for advices for how to court Trish. Wait… what?! They have a thing with Trish?? He tries not to be upset over it, but it’s obvious he’s deeply saddened by this unexpected turn of events.

Still, Mista is not one who cries for long. Once a thing is lost, it’s lost; it’s useless to regret it. So, in little time, he forcibly brushes aside his previous amorous feelings, replacing them with friendship and support. All in all they’re in love with Trish, it’s cool!

In the end, he goes back to be G/N’s buddy. And also Trish’s! He wants just the best for them, so he’s ready to beat the shit out anyone who dares to make bad comments or to give them advices about romance and dates. All took from the sappy movies he likes so much.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia is so obviously head over heels with G/N that both they and Trish feel the need to immediately talk to him about the whole situation. Trish is one of Narancia’s closest friend, almost siblings, and her heart aches at the thought to break his heart, but… he doesn’t deserve lies. He deserves the truth.

As predicted, it crushes him. He doesn’t blame neither G/N or Trish, just… he needs time. To adjust to the new situation, to mend his heart. Still, all in all, he’s grateful to have Trish and G/N with him, not to have to face it all alone… it helps him to heal faster.

In the end, his sunny and cheerful attitude has the better on any sour feeling. Now that he has brushed aside his crush, he’s just happy to be friend with G/N and Trish! Even if he whines when he can’t go out with them, now. They’re always on a date!

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo didn’t start with many hopes and, when he notices that G/N has feelings for Trish, he’s not surprised. How could someone love him? He languishes a bit in such thoughts, before finally snapping back to his usual self. Mourning like this is useless.

So, for a while, he’d just nurse his broken heart, trying to avoid as much as possible G/N and Trish. Not ‘cause he’s angry at them, just ‘cause it hurts to see them. However, slowly, he’ll manage to go back to his usual self with both of them, slowly regaining the past confidence both with G/N and Trish in a friendly way.

When his crush for G/N is finally gone, he’s one of their main supporter. He’s ready, as Mista, to beat the shit out of who talks bad about them, being even a bit overprotective towards them both. He wants the best both for G/N and Trish: they’re his friends and he’s ready to do everything for them.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno, as much as Bruno, is totally taken aback. He was almost sure to have won their heart, but obviously it’s not so… he didn’t imagine an ending like this. It hurts a bit… but, even if his feelings were strong, he’s determined to go on with his life without being immobilized by this situation.

Still, he’ll take a bit of time to think about it all and to heal his broken heart. It was his first serious crush, his first love… it hurts. He knows he has so many years in front of him, so many occasions, but still… he needs time.

After having nursed his broken heart, he’ll go back to be the usual Giorno. He’s still caring and, in a certain sense, affectionate, but now in an absolutely friendly way. He doesn’t want to put himself between G/N and Trish, but to support them!

Trish Una

Trish was more discreet than her friends, so it wasn’t obvious that she felt something deeper than friendship for G/N. Still, when G/N confessed to her, she felt so happy, so relieved to almost cry on spot. She was loved back! She was sincerely loved back!!

They aren’t going to hide their relationship, not now and not ever. Since they both believe in honesty, they’re going to be sincere with the others of the gang: they’re together, they’re in love and they are not going to split up even if the others don’t agree with them being together.

They’re so relieved when everyone shows just acceptance and support! They would have suffered a lot, if one of them would have showed revulsion and anger about it all. Now, they are sure to find allies in them, in any case.

#jjba #vento aureo #bruno's gang #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #giorno giovanna #trish una #neutral s/o #reverse harem #headcanons #sfw #anon ask

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afinepricklypear · 4 years

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Mother’s Day and Mental Health Awareness Month

**Warning - This post talks about depression, mental disorder, and an attempted suicide. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. The events described here are real and true to the best of my memory.**

I went to make a post May 1st and Tumblr was kind enough to inform me that May is Mental Health Awareness month. It isn’t without irony for me that Mental Health Awareness month occurs the same month as Mother’s Day.

My relationship with my mother is a difficult topic, it’s usually only one I can talk about with my sisters, but it’s this time of year that people most want to talk about moms. When I was younger, I didn’t know what to say when people brought up their moms and mom-like behavior in general, mostly foreign concepts to me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned I don’t have to say anything at all, like in my work meeting this morning when our supervisor reminded us all to call our mom’s this weekend, you know, “if they’re still alive”, since most of our department are near retiring age, but I don’t always know how to feel. Here comes the guilt: do I call, do I text, do I take the risk that she’ll be in a good mood or will she turn it around, again, like the year I sent her a gift and she used my gesture as ammo to attack my “ungrateful” older sister that’s still trying to untangle her own complicated relationship with our mother. I’m ten again, twelve again, sixteen again, walking on eggshells around a house where the air is so thick with the constant fog of her misery, I can’t see farther than a minute into my future.

There were good moments, of course, like any home. She was always the more encouraging parent when it came to my writing, my father would pick it all apart – in the long run, both approaches helped me become a better writer. There was the time she was given two tickets to see Mama Mia at the casino where she dealt, and she chose to take me. We got dressed up, she leant me this white faux fur jacket and some of her jewelry, curled my hair and did my make-up, she was riding high on her emotions. She took me to a fancy dinner at the Hard Rock Café before the show. We didn’t get spoiled often, and to this day, Mama Mia and ABBA hold a special place in my heart. I always think of her singing along to the radio in the car, she has a nice voice, and maybe in another life, she could’ve been a singer.

There were moments when she was trying to be sweet and it still leaves me with conflicted emotions. Like the time the German shepherd she took off the hands of a coworker who was afraid of him violently attacked me. She bandaged me up, laid in bed with me and comforted me, it’s the most motherly I ever remember her being. She kept the dog for a while after that, I still have scars on both my arms from the attack, I’ll have them the rest of my life, just like my little sister will still have her scars from when it attacked her, and my friend who came to visit will still have the scar it gave her…my older sister was only lucky that it was muzzled when it went for her face. My mother was convinced she had a special connection with this dog, that in his heart of hearts he believed he was protecting her, so I get it, she didn’t want to get rid of something that she felt loved her unconditionally.

Sometimes it’s hard to conjure these kinder memories, they become overwhelmed with the harder, darker ones that feel infinitely more numerous. There are the moments that seem innocuous, when you could say I was acting a spoiled child, like the time I was in middle school and I wanted to keep my hair long, but my mother decided I needed bangs. My dad tried to stop it, but she had made up her mind. I cried and pleaded with her but she commanded the reluctant stylist to chop the hair off. Armed with a brush and blow-dryer, she attempted to show me “it was cute” that night and things escalated to the point my dad and older sister were stepping in, arguing with my mom to let me be. I went back to that same hair stylist with my friend who was getting her hair cut the next day, and the stylist apologized, confessed that she didn’t want to cut my hair, told me it was so healthy and beautiful too, and she felt terrible doing it. Years later, when I was an adult and decided to cut my hair short with sideswept bangs, my mother would throw this memory back in my face, “sure, now you want bangs”, still incapable of understanding that it wasn’t about her, but about me wanting to define my own body and style. She did the same to my older sister in high school, dyed her hair blonde – it took so much bleach to lighten her naturally dark hair color that the hair looked fried afterwards and we were all amazed it didn’t fall out. Never mind that my older sister never wanted blonde hair to begin with, it was antithetical to her personality, and she won’t even go near the hair dye aisle now.

There are the moments where my mom was so unreasonable that everyone felt helpless, like the day I was alone in my room, my sisters in the living room talking and watching television – doing I don’t know what – and my mom was sleeping in her room because she worked graveyard shift at this time. Suddenly, inexplicably, my mom came into my room in a rage, “how dare you call your little sister stupid,” she scolded me, she continued to berate me for being cruel and mean, even as I told her, baffled, I didn’t know what she was talking about, even as my sisters argued with her, “no one called anyone stupid. She wasn’t even in the room with us.” My mother wouldn’t listen, she knew what she heard, she grounded me and, matter settled, left back to bed. My dad got home from work not long after, and I was in my room still bawling, inconsolable and unable to work out what I’d done wrong. He asked my sisters why I was crying and they explained, and, again, my mom comes storming in my room yelling, “how dare you tattle on me to your dad!” I don’t remember much of what happened from there, my dad stepped in, they argued the rest of the night, and he would later assure me I wasn’t grounded. It was the only thing he could undo from that day.

There are other, harder to define moments. The nights my mom would argue with my dad, we’d be in bed, school in the morning, and she’d turn on all our bedroom lights, rip the covers off our beds, and scream at us to get out of her house, that she was putting us all out on the streets and it was our father’s fault. I remember vividly the fight between my parents that happened in the day, everyone awake in the house, I collapsed in the kitchen as my mother ranted that we all hated her so she should leave and we won’t have to deal with her anymore, and I cried and trembled, overwhelmed with the thought, I don’t want anyone to leave, I don’t want to lose my family. I had to get out, so I did, walked right out of the house, not sure where I’d go, and my mother panicked and raced after me, put an arm over my shoulders, coaxed me back to the house. The moment the door closed; she was yelling at us again for not loving her enough and I realized I couldn’t leave, I was trapped. There was the gambling addiction, every Christmas we would be prepared, “mom lost a lot of money at the casino last night, we might not have a Christmas this year” – we had learned not to expect anything anyways and that every gift came with a quid pro quo and years of ‘remember I did this for you’. My older sister and her then-boyfriend, now-husband, watched my mom gamble away more than a month’s mortgage and spend the entire night chasing it back.

I’m thinking about all of this more recently, I think, since I started writing some fanfics for the Bungou Stray Dogs community. One of the main characters of the show is named after and inspired by author, Dazai Osamu, a man that died prematurely from a double suicide. This is treated tongue-and-cheek by the anime and its original manga through Dazai’s many failed suicide attempts and his odd flirtation strategy of asking ladies to commit double suicide with him. I kind of like this approach to the topic, it might on the surface seem insensitive to make a joke of something so serious as depression, but humor can be therapeutic and give us an easier way to broach otherwise difficult subjects.

I was in high school when my older sister and I were allowed to be in on the conversations about my mother’s mental disorder, both undiagnosed and untreated. We’d all speculate, my father and his sister, my mother’s sister, my sisters and I, the favorite theory was bipolar disorder, but we may never know. My mom refused then and refuses to this day to seek help. There were little things about her past before marrying my dad that we were allowed to know as we got older, too. Like, how she’d been put in a hospital that wanted to keep her there for further treatment – they knew something was wrong but didn’t know what, this was during a time when bipolar disorder was unheard of and they called similar diagnoses ‘manic depression’ – and she had to threaten legal action to get released. When she was eighteen, she had married a man knowing he had a terminal illness in order to help him get his green card, he died two years later, and she still considers him the great love of her life. We’re told by the media, movies like A Walk to Remember, that this is romantic, but in reality, it’s an unhealthy fixation on a relationship that was doomed from the start. She idolizes the memory of it, puts it on a pedestal as the standard for all of her other relationships to compare to, but it isn’t realistic. It was a relationship with a known expiration date, it wasn’t a real commitment, nothing had to matter because it would all come to an end soon, and they never reached the hard parts of a marriage – children, growing old, changing bodies, financial struggles, loss and disagreement. She went through a deep depression after he died and it reached a point that her sister had her placed on a suicide watch and thus began her long and sordid history of depression.

There are a lot of fanfics in the BSD community that explore a darker tone to Dazai’s depression, to varying degrees of accuracy. I mostly steer clear of them. There is one writer in the community that I won’t name, they’re an amazing writer with beautiful technical skill, and they do an impeccable job of showing depression exactly as it is for those who live it and those who live with a person that suffers from it. I left a one-word comment on one of their stories, the only positive thing I could say, and I couldn’t write anymore without the comment turning into an emotional lecture, I don’t know that author’s personal emotional state, but I also won’t read any more from them. It wasn’t the accurate depiction of depression that turned me off from the story, but the depiction of Dazai’s depression being known by all the characters in the story, including himself, but he won’t seek treatment for it, and all of the characters are shown to enable his depression and put up with his abuses that stem from his disorder. In the story he was placed in an intimate relationship with the character, Chuuya, and Chuuya is painted as the patron saint of boyfriends, willing to overlook Dazai’s every episode, draw him back from the ledge and bandage up his scars with an endless patience and gentleness. I couldn’t move passed the romanticizing of this relationship dynamic. Chuuya is shown to be noble and celebrated for his self-sacrifice and unconditional love that compels him to stay beside Dazai despite everything Dazai inflicts upon himself and Chuuya, and more importantly, despite Dazai’s refusal to get treatment.

My mother’s emotional state was constantly our responsibility growing up. She was sad because we didn’t love her. She was angry because we were ungrateful. She was miserable because we couldn’t see all that she did for us. If she hurt us with her words, if she lashed out at us irrationally, it was our fault, because we didn’t do everything right. Never mind that what was right could change within a minute in a day. Too often when someone in your life is suffering from a mental disorder, you’re made to shoulder the blame, either unintentionally by them as they suffer from their illness or intentionally by well-meaning individuals outside of the situation that don’t know better: you just need to give them love. If they take their own life, it’s your fault, you didn’t love them enough.

It was the Friday before Mother’s Day, I was in my early twenties, finishing up my degree in Anthropology (after changing my major, I don’t know how many times). My parents were long since divorced and my mom lived alone in the house where I grew up, still shrouded in all of those dark memories. My mother’s sister had recently left town after a short visit, she had called me a few days earlier to let me know my mother lost her job that week and was struggling to get out of the depression. In retrospect, she’d been sinking for a while now, after the violent dog and so many other incidents like it left us all with too many scars to overlook and we didn’t know how to walk back into that house, how to feel safe there. She’d covered herself in tattoos, cut her hair short, wore different wigs to work every day, she’d gained a lot of weight and was chain smoking so much there was a permanent haze in the house. None of these things should be thought of as red flags for everyone, it should be taken on an individual basis, but for my mother they were all signs that she was spiraling. She didn’t like who she saw in the mirror and was desperately trying to cover it up, find someone she did like. I had promised her I would come over, make her a dinner for Mother’s Day, and I would take her to see a movie. I was on my phone with my aunt when I pulled up, snowballing ideas for what to do if things got serious and if we needed to think about placing her on a suicide watch, how that would work. I rang the doorbell; it was outside of the gate she put around the front yard for her dogs to go in the front yard.

No answer.

Rang it again.

Still no answer.

She knew I was coming over.

I opened the gate, went to the door, the door was cracked open, my aunt was on the phone in my ear, “what’s going on?” I opened the door fully and my mom’s dogs came to greet me. The house was in disarray, furniture toppled over, papers scattered across the floor, so many of the details are blurred out of memory, I remember distinctly a ceramic statue broken on the floor but I couldn’t tell you what it was a statue of. I could hear a low intermittent moan coming from farther in the house. I followed it down the hall to my mother’s room, into her bathroom, where she was collapsed, naked, on the floor of her shower.

I told my aunt I had to go, I hung up and dialed 911. In the moment, I didn’t know how panicked I really was, my voice unnaturally high, my body warm and shaking and electric with adrenaline. That feeling hits me again, sometimes, when I don’t expect it. There was white like foam around my mother’s mouth, her eyes stared wide and blank at the ceiling, her every breath was that guttural moan as she attempted to draw air in, an autonomic action, she was completely unresponsive. Her body was on autopilot, and so was mine. I’d been rehearsing for a long time what to do in that situation, it’s the only way I made it through everything that needed to be done. I gave the dispatcher the address, answered her questions, “I think she did something to herself but I don’t know what…no, there’s no pills nearby…no, I don’t see anything in the trash…she’s been severely depressed…she has a history of depression…”, between pleading with my mom, “please don’t leave me, please stay with me, mom,” and wrestling her dogs into the front yard and out of the house. The dispatcher told me the ambulance was on its way and asked if I wanted her to stay on the line and I begged her not to hang up, not to leave me with nothing but the moans of my dying mother, she didn’t say anything during that time, was just silently present as I talked to my mom and waited for the paramedics. They couldn’t come in until I got the dogs out back, I cursed and screamed at the unruly mongrels and felt an irrational anger that my mom never got them properly trained.

I took a seat in the kitchen, let the paramedics work and my brain shut down. I called my aunt back, told her what happened. The paramedics came to ask me questions, I tried to answer them but I didn’t know and my aunt was correcting me over the phone, so I handed her over and let her talk to them. They took my mother away to the hospital and I was alone, in that childhood house, that held so many horrible memories of my mother’s untreated disorder, and every aspect of our lives that it colored and perverted. Every Mother’s Day was always fraught with anxiety, I think it was my mother’s least favorite day, her mood was always sour, and no matter what we gave her or tried to do for her, it wasn’t enough. Even the year before, the Mother’s Day when she told us exactly what to get her. She was so happy with her present, a sterling silver ring with our birthstones imbedded that cost us all a pretty penny – I was paying my own way through college, my older sister was paying rent on a Starbucks salary, and my little sister didn’t have a job – but a week later we were ungrateful brats again. There was one Mother’s Day when I was maybe ten or eleven, we’d set her up roses and two cards – one from my father and one from her daughters. I was watching television and waiting for her to come home from work to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. She came in and years of practice had taught me to recognize she was in a dark mood, a cigarette on her lip, her posture tense, muttering under her breath about how nobody loved her, nobody cared. She stalked to the desk, ripped the cards in half without opening them and threw them on the ground in front of me without sparing me one glance or word, and stormed to her room, slammed the door behind her.

We would later find out that my mother drank antifreeze, a method that has about a 5% survival rate. She was in a coma for about a month. It was another few weeks before they took the respirator tube out and her throat recovered enough that she could talk in small sentences, and not without effort and pain. She told us she filled a cup with the antifreeze, showed us with her fingers set apart how high she’d put it in the glass, when she finished, she washed the cup and stuck it in the dishwasher, hiding the evidence. She’d always heard antifreeze was flavorless but it tasted awful – they add flavoring to antifreeze to deter people from accidentally ingesting it. She’d thought it would be quick, but it’s really an excruciatingly painful and long, drawn out way to die. She’d stripped in her deliria and taken a shower because her body felt so awful, feverish and almost on fire, as it was shutting down and her nerves fried from the chemical reaction. I wrestled for a long time with the ethical delimma of my choices in that moment after finding her, and there was a thought that stuck with me through it all: What did I get my mother for Mother’s Day? I saved her life, and it was still the wrong gift.

It isn’t noble or romantic to stay with someone who refuses to get professional treatment for their mental disorder. There is no amount of love or patience or understanding that will heal them. In most situations, the harder and braver thing to do is walk away. None of us is a perfect person and none of us should have to bear the burden of another person’s unwillingness to get help when they need it. It took me a long time to come to terms with the notion that there is no one to blame in this situation. It isn’t my fault that I can’t give my mother the love she craves. It isn’t my mother’s fault that she can’t see the love that her daughters wanted to give her. But it is her responsibility to get help. If she refuses help, no one can force it on her.

It’s been years now since this happened. My mother is now as recovered as she’ll ever be. Her mind isn’t as sharp, and she struggles with controlling her muscles and the devastating damage to her nervous system that will never fully heal. She remains undiagnosed and is not receiving any kind of professional guidance or treatment. There have been new, dark memories, added to the old ones, in those times when we tried to be supportive and “there for her” during her recovery. Episodes that remind us she doesn’t want to change and she never will. So, we keep our interactions to a minimum, answer when she texts, try to help her when she asks for it, check in every so often. She lives on the other side of the country with two cats and goes regularly to the neighborhood karaoke bar. In a weird way, she seems happier with this set up, this distance between her and all of the pain that my sisters and I seemed to bring her, that constant demand for love that we couldn’t fulfill, maybe it really was all our fault and we were the ones to blame, or maybe it’s because I’m not living with her depression anymore.

I don’t know if I’ll call my mother on Mother’s Day, but for anyone else out there with a complicated relationship with their mother, it’s okay if you decide not to call your mother either.

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oneofiv · 4 years

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Such a dirty, filthy word...GRIEF!

I am no expert but by life's infinite graces I am quite familiar with grief and the variety of coping mechanisms that come along with it. Welcome to my Ted Talk. Ok, serious face. I have been on this planet for a little over 33 years and in that time frame I have lost not one, but both parents and most recently and easily most gut wrenching my little sister Devin. If you are uncomfortable with dark humor and the concept of complete black hole sadness, I'd say turn around right now but really you should stay. Because these two things are eventually unavoidable. So buckle up babies!

Dad: 15 years old, stubborn, insecure, massive chip on the shoulder

Losing my dad was tough, for many reasons. He was the first. Uncharted territory. How does one go about living in a world where one minute you had two parents and the next you're down to one? Well more like half of one. Mom wasn't doing so swell back in 2001. She had a lot of demons (too many to go into in the post but trust me we'll get there one day). So now, I am the oldest sibling of a one parent household. Dad was the navigator, he was the one who knew the next step. I think this was the first time I felt completely and utterly helpless. I remember I was having a good day on September 27, 2001. My friend Brett and I went to the mall, I'm pretty sure I bought a purse from American Eagle. Back at home, sprawled out on my bed attempting to start some homework, the phone rang. It was my Dad's mom. You ever know something is wrong before given any actual reasoning? That's happened to me twice in my life. Once, 3 years earlier and this day. I knew he was gone. My grandma Alice asked to speak to my other grandma Carol (whom we lived with). She said nothing other than "Hi sweetie, can I talk to grandma Carol?" Thinking back on it there was no real shift in her tone of voice, maybe subtly but not enough to send red flags waving around in my mind. When it was finally said out loud that he was gone, I embraced the laminate flooring beneath me. An ungodly wail escaped my mouth. I became one with my siblings as a ball of overwhelming grief. A son without his idol, two daughters who wondered who would walk them down the aisle now? With that quick call the life that we had known was gone. He was gone.

Mom: 25 years old, still stubborn, still insecure, working on that chip, in a super unhealthy relationship

We use to joke about how it would come down to the apocalypse and all that would remain would be the cockroaches, Twinkies and my mama. She had done so much damage to herself in her short lifetime that it was baffling how she made it as long as she did. But despite all of that it was still absolutely shocking when she really died. I was living 900 miles away from my family in Myrtle Beach when I got the call from my sister. My knees gave out, my ears starting to ring. I now have no parents. How does that happen? How do some people have both and I get none? Selfish, irrational thoughts like that one would soon consume my mind. In chaos we booked a flight back to New York but it wasn't for 24 hours. We can drive there quicker than that. We ended up using the credit for the flight back for the official goodbye a few weeks later. Guilt. Crippling, soul crushing, guilt. Could I have changed the outcome by being kinder to her? Were my siblings right? My tough love approach was falling on deaf ears? I didn't tell her I loved her the last time I saw her. In fact, I'm pretty sure I just scoffed at her. A month earlier we celebrated Christmas. In the week I was back home she never emerged from her room. Or if she did, I wasn't around to see it. I hugged my siblings, cracked some jokes and packed up the car to escape back down to the warmth. Halfway down the block, "SUSIE", my most prized possession was back in my childhood room, we turned around. And there she was, making her way down the stairs like the living dead. Ghostly pale, disheveled, with the saddest eyes I've ever known. A common site, unfortunately. No words were exchanged. A sarcastic breathe of air was my greeting. I will have to live with this. Realistically, I think my mom knew how much I loved her. She had to. I spent the better part of 15 years begging her to come back to us. If that didn't scream love, what did? Maybe actually telling her "I love you"? I do Mom. More than words were ever able to express in your lifetime. I hope I am like you when I have kids of my own. Seriously! Minus the obvious issues, I would be disgustingly lucky to be a fraction of the mother you were. I wish you knew.

Devin: 29 years old, not so stubborn, still insecure, chip is long gone, freshly laid off

...I don't want to write about this. I've never had a problem sharing my grief about my parents but Devin is different. Its still so new. Its never been believable to me. Plus to be actually honest about this one I would have to divulged some things that I would rather keep close to the chest. Because Devin doesn't deserve to be remember any other way than as the wildly funny, intimidatingly gorgeous, absolute lunatic that she was. All you need to know is that my little sister died 5 days after her 28th birthday. I was the last one to see her. She was wearing a "Finding Gerald" shirt (i.e. Finding Dory) and the last thing I said to her, as I touched her back, was "I love you Dev". This grief. This is the monster you hear about. The one that takes down others. The one that is so easy to get lost in. The one that makes you wonder if you should follow and leave too. When I think about her not being here my initial reaction is sadness, obviously. But that is shortly followed by a cocktail of guilt, anger, resentment, self loathing, loathing in general, bafflement, you name it. And its that cocktail that gets stuck as a lump in my throat. I can't swallow it. I can't allow myself to move past those feelings. I can shake off the sadness but not these. I am conditioned to sadness. These were new. I would, and I mean this with every single inch of me, trade places with her if I could. The world deserves Devin but more importantly Devin deserved the world.

When my Dad died I coped like most teenagers would. I hated my mom, my littlest brother was the bane of my existence, I discovered self harm (eventually to be replace with the more socially acceptable tattoos and piercings) and I fell in love with a boy. With Mom, as I was older and "wiser" I coped with booze and drugs and sex. The holy trinity! After Devin, I ate. A lot. I went from a squishy size 12 to a robust size 20. My interest in guys was minimal, I assume a side effect of my new padding. I like to think that I have covered the spread on ways to cope after losing a loved one. But the reality is I could have done so much more damage if wanted to. I could have become #4 on the Sheppard Family Tree of Death. Which, I have dibs on by the way. I refuse to outlive anyone else! Call me selfish but I am done losing people. I am feverishly knocking on all wood surfaces right now. I think another one would break me. And for good. I often wonder how it hasn't already. Am I stronger than I think I am? Or in a weird way does my inability to follow through with things also effect this aspect of my life? ← If you are curious what dark humor looks like, this would be a prime example. In other words, I am not suicidal, just super fucked up!

People have asked me how I do it, I assume they mean live with so many people absent. The only thing I have to say to that is, Quinn. The littlest of the Sheppard's, a full grown adult man now, but forever my chicken nugget. You think its been rough for me? Quinn was 5 when Dad died, 15 when Mom left and 19 when he lost his best friend. All of that before he could remove the "teen" from his age. If he can keep his head up and walk this earth without a massive grudge then fuck it so can I! This is a constant theme in our lives, perspective. No matter how bad its been, it could always be worse. The hardest day of our lives could be a cakewalk for someone else. This doesn't mean we're not entitled to grieve the way that we do but it also doesn't excuse us for being bad people. I refuse to let the loss of my family members allow me to treat others in a negative fashion.

I will probably come back to this topic time and time again but for now this is it.

#grief #loss of loved ones #mom died #dad die #sister died #loss of parents #loss of a sibling #coping mechanisms #coping #survivors guilt #subsance abuse #alcholism #cancer

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thequeenofadream · 5 years

Text

Somebody that I used to know (Ben Hardy x Reader)

Summary: you used to be ben’s and ben used to be yours, but you broke up due to distance and media pressure. you both decide that beings friends is for the best, but ben barely even sees you anymore.

Words: 2,473

Notes: drinking is done (i’ve never drunk bc im not an illegal yes yes so sorry if this is not accurate i tried to do research) get rEKTT BY THE ANGST TRAIN.

A/N: i know it’s valentine’s but uh yesa.. um HAPPY VALENTINES!! <3 ps. this will probably be a three part series and if this flops u never saw me

🎊 tagging: @obsessedwithrogertaylor @malekdarling @i-padfootblack-things

~~~~~~~~~

You were a mess; much like a painting, a thousand words hid behind your gaze. Words of anger, words of sadness, words of relief; they all raced through your mind. He was a mess; much like liquor, he’d try to numb the pain, but he couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. The day had come where he couldn’t hide behind a pillar of excuses.

You and Ben had been dating for a year now and six months in, you decided to go public. There have been many downfalls and peaks within that time. Ben was always out either shooting or doing press tours; meanwhile you were almost always on the other side of the world, busy with your own tour. Whatever time you had together would be miniscule; the way time flew when you were together was almost surreal.

You met on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody. You were called upon to do a cover of “Killer Queen” along with a small part in the movie; You obviously could not say refuse. You cleared your schedule for the next two weeks, right before you’d leave for tour, and packed your bags. When you got there, you were lost and late, but luckily a blonde british boy found you wandering the halls.

“Hey, are you (Y/N)?”

“Uhm, yeah.”

“Lots of people are looking for you.”

It blossomed from there, and it was what a feeling it was. You only spent two weeks in production, but you could feel the strong friendly energy radiating off of everyone, it was particularly amazing to watch Rami become Freddie Mercury. You had gotten acquainted with everyone, and even exchanged social media handles, but Ben was especially ‘friendly’. About a week before you had to leave, the blonde finally asked you on a date.

You were honestly completely oblivious to his efforts, because everything seemed to good to be true on the magical sets of Bohemian Rhapsody. You thought he was just being his kind, generous and chivalrous self, however all those intimate moments between you two did spark butterflies in your stomach. It kind of baffled you, trying to figure out what about you caught his attention. He took you out to see London, and at the end of the day he brought you to a cozy bistro where you were spent time alone. At the end of the date, he had built up enough confidence to ask you if you wanted to try and be a thing. With the adrenaline pumping in your veins, you accepted a million times over.

You spent the last week, absolutely smitten over one another and when you left you both called each other everyday. On your sixth month together, he flew all the way to one of your concerts. He surprised you after the show and you almost cried.

“I want the whole world to know you’re my whole world.”

That was when you cried. You agreed and you both went public. It had been a rough seven months, from cheating allegations to pregnancy rumours to the constant harassment from paparazzi and others. It was ripping the both of you apart, and there was so much pain because of your love. It was like being together, unravelled the both of you. The only reason you were still strong was because of him, but all the consequences had struck you down. You felt like you couldn’t be yourself without being associated to Ben, and he felt the same. You loved each other dearly, but you still wanted to have your own careers.

And this was where you stood, in Ben’s London apartment. You had a show tomorrow night, but you figured you had to talk to him.

You both at looked at each other, your faces full of sorrow and disbelief. You thought you could somehow last forever, but almost is never enough. You both knew what had to be done, you just didn’t want to imagine each other apart. You decided to speak up, sobbing softly.

“Ben, we can’t go on like this.” You held his hand lightly. You felt weak and tired, but you were holding onto whatever you had left.

“I know.” He said simply, tightening his grip on your hand. He seemed almost mad at himself.

“So that’s it?” You asked tears trailing down your cheek. You thought he would have something more to say. He took you by the waist and held you close.

“All we do is hurt each other. It’d be better for us to be friends.” He paused, running a hand through your hair.

“We just hurt each other, I knew this since before. I just didn’t want to believe it, but now I see that it’s unhealthy. I’m not worthing of saying I love you when I’m the cause of your everyday agony.” He speaks softly, his voice cracking at the end.

“You’re not the cause of my everyday agony. In fact, you’re my sunshine. ” You say quietly, hugging him as close as humanly possible.

“But you wouldn’t be in so much pain if it weren’t for me.” He replies, taking in your scent, holding onto it. He clung onto you as if you were never to see one another again. You just stayed in each other’s embrace, one last time in silence. It was a somewhat comforting silence, knowing the pain would be over, but you were going to lose who you thought was the love of your life.

After you had both said your goodbyes, you left. You agreed you would both still be friends, but it just didn’t seem right to you. Maybe, if you had both met in much more normal circumstances you would have reached the end, but that wasn’t going happen. You had to go on and put the best happy face for your concert tonight.

“(Y/N), Are you okay?” Lucy asked snapping a finger in front of you. She had gone backstage to check on you, before you went out. You had invited the cast to your concert, but you weren’t sure if Ben would even come which was understandable.

You were zoning off into the distance, unable to process anything. Ever since yesterday, everything had been a blur and you couldn’t get your mind off of him. You hadn’t been able to sleep, eat, and think straight. You missed him so much, and it was bad.

“(Y/N)?” Lucy asked once more, shaking your shoulders.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You finally said, sighing deeply. You were most definitely not, but who could tell? Ben usually did, that’s who.

“If you say so. You’re gonna kill it tonight!” She said smiling softly. She knew what happened, but you had basically told everyone to not mention it and told the media to ‘piss off’. You really needed to do well tonight. You flashed a weak smile, assuring her you were ‘pumped’. She left you to it and went back out into the crowds.

She sat down with Rami, Gwilym and Joe, who immediately started asking about you.

“Not so good.” She sighed as the rest of them sighed in unison. They had been trying to comfort you and Ben, but that was proving to be difficult as it seemed like everything reminded you both of one another.

“Where’s Ben?” Rami asked, worrying about his other friend.

“He’s probably watching a livestream of the concert. He said he was going to practice drumming, but we all know that it could be very much code for well..” Joe trailed not even daring to put them in the same sentence. Suddenly, the lights went out and the show was about to start. Gwilym quickly added “We’ll have to split up later.”

It wasn't that they wanted to meddle between your relationship. It was more like seeing their parents divorce or something. They didn't want to choose any side, and they didn't want to see either of you looking terribly miserable.

The show was typical. It wasn’t anything grand, but it wasn’t boring. Although if you looked closely, you could see hurt written across your face. You remember how you would send Ben videos of the concert and he would express how proud he was. Almost every love song you sang was inspired by him and you couldn’t avoid him while pouring out your emotions on stage. You had to physically restrain yourself not to become a sad and depressing loser who had broken up with her boyfriend. You started feeling hazy towards the end of the show, so you were pretty loose in those last moments.

“Goodnight everyone!” You chriped, faking confidence, before stepping off stage and heading to your dressing room, lying across your sofa. You had literally told everyone that you'd deal with whatever they needed later, right now you just needed to breathe.

Your closed your eyes, trying not to think of him.You blamed yourself for the downfall. Maybe if you hadn’t gone too fast, you both wouldn’t end up crashing and burning. Maybe you shouldn’t have said yes to being the girlfriend of a guy you had known for a week. You had let everything go to your head. It was all a mistake, a beautiful yet tragic mistake.

You decided that if you wanted to get over him you needed to get rid of everything that reminded you of him, but you didn’t really know how to. You weren’t ready to just throw everything away. You needed start small. You fell asleep whilst mindlessly thinking; honestly you just wanted to sleep for a thousand years.

Lucy and Rami arrived to see you passed out on the sofa. At first they were filled with absolute dread, but someone had informed them that you had just taken a nap. You weren’t sure you were taking a nap though, if it was possible you didn’t want to wake up. Rami shook you shoulder lightly, trying to wake you up and it was indeed enough to awake you.

“Hi, sorry, that really wore me out.” You said yawning as you sat up straight.

“It was a phenomenal concert afterall! I know exactly what would do you some good.” Rami said happily, desperately trying to brighten the mood.

“We should go out for drinks, maybe some dancing?” He continued, seeing your eyes somewhat light up at the idea. It was at least brighter than the darkness that had clouded your pupils since the break up.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You said nodding, feeling a genuine ping of joy. “But where are Gwil and Joe?” You asked looking around the dressing room. Lucy suddenly panicked trying to find an excuse or explanation to where they had gone.

“They had to head over to the pharmacy! Something about joe drinking a milkshake earlier.” She came up with a pretty believable excuse, enough for you to believe. You just nodded and let them take you.

The three of you wasted the night away drinking and singing karaoke; getting drunk also meant you letting loose which was just what you needed. You were actually drunk enough to mingle with other people on the dance floor.

“Hey I’m (Y/N) and-”

“(Y/N) (L/N)? Didn't you just perform a few hours ago?”

“Yeah yeah whatever, so I was thinking you looked cute and I think I look cute sooo..”

“(Y/N)!” Lucy interrupted your attempts at flirting and dragged you back to the booth the three of you had gotten. You were drunkenly protesting against this, wanting to go back, but she had a strong grip. She sat you down at booth, before she sat down, keeping you from leaving.

“Aww, party pooper.” You said teasing her.

“I don't think you should make rash decisions when you're drunk, love.” She said slightly annoyed by your complete ignorance to the situation. Hey, at least you weren't mopping about Ben. Rami came back with two drinks handing one to Lucy and sitting on the other side of the booth.

“How about me?” You whined, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Sorry,, but I think it's for the best.” Rami said taking a swig from his drink. You just grumbled in response, annoyed by his validness. He was most definitely right. The night went on with the three of you just hanging out; they shared funny stories on set and you shared funny stories on tour. You wish you could’ve stayed longer, but everyone has their responsibilities. Speaking of responsibilities, Rami looked at the time to see it was getting pretty late and they had an early day tomorrow.

“Hey (Y/N), We have an early day tomorrow so-”

“Say no more! I’ll just call a cab home.”

“Are you sure, you could go with us you know?”

“Nope, it’s totally fine, promise.” You smiled as they got up from the booth. Lucy gave you a knowing look so you just raised your hands in defense. “No rash decisions, promise.” You held out a hand and she took it, shaking on it.

“Get some rest, (Y/N).” Rami let out a chuckle, linking arms with Lucy. You nodded and watched them go off. You were left to your thoughts in a bustling and rowdy club. You thought about taking our your phone to call a taxi, but the fire coursing through your blood said otherwise. You ordered another drink or five, despite Rami’s past wishes, and sat all by yourself, wallowing in alcohol.

You liked it. You couldn’t feel anything, pain, regret, gloom, they were all gone. You had completely lost yourself, in the chaotic atmosphere. You didn’t feel guilty or sad or mad, You felt insanely confident. You decided to go back out to the dance floor and mingle.

“Hello there.” You smirked slyly.

Meanwhile, Ben was with Gwil and Joe watching action movies to get his mind off the subject of romance. Little did they know that this was yours and Ben basically watched every genre together, so it didn’t really work. He has spent the whole night watching your concert, before the two came along with ice cream.

Frankie was in his lap and he pet her gently as the movie played. He wished he was a better boyfriend; maybe he wouldn’t be guilty out of his mind. He should of visited you more often, he should’ve told you how much he loved you; but that was all in the past and he can’t do anything anymore. The mere thought of being in love with you made him feel liable for his actions.

He would always hold himself responsible for everything that came crashing down.

He looked on the brightside, you two could still be friends. Maybe without the media suffocating you both into romantic endeavors, you could spend time together openly. He kept telling himself everything was going to be better, but was it?

~~~~~~~~~

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sae-bae-ran · 6 years

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-Hello i want to request! RFA+Sae+V -Can you write about MC who has trust issues and haven't told them any kind of secret or family problem even tho they had been dating for a year.She just can't trust anyone and they realised they don't know anything other then ordinary things. *sorry for grammar mistakes >.

Hi! ^^ Thanks for the request! I hope you like what I wrote! You have a good day too, nonny!

Masterlist || Ko-fi

RFA + Saeran reacting to an MC who has trust issues

Hyun Ryu // Zen

It wouldn’t be a lie if he said this whole year you’ve been dating has been the happiest of his life. Not only did he find the perfect girl but it also seems like you are his lucky charm, judging by all the awesome roles he’s been getting ever since he met you.

Everything seems to be perfect…

Except one thing.

He barely knows anything about your family and past other than the most ordinary things, like your mom’s name for example.

It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to get into too many details and he’d completely understand if you’re not on good terms with your family, but deep down he fears you don’t trust him enough to talk to him about it.

One evening right after dinner, you lie on the couch, legs tangled as he peppers your face with kisses, the TV long forgotten.

“Babe,” he’s hesitant at first but your curious eyes and the small smile on your lips give him enough courage to continue. “I understand if something happened and it made you lose your trust in people. It makes me angry, it really does, but I can’t fix that.”

Brows furrowed, you lower your head, unsure what to say. His fingers are gentle as he hooks them under your chin, lifting it up so you can look him in the eyes. “What I can do is show you that I’m different. You can trust me, princess, and I’m gonna prove it to you even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Yoosung

His curious nature made him ask all the question he could think of about you once he felt comfortable enough in your company. Which, in all honestly, wasn’t too long after you two started dating.

It didn’t bug him at first when you politely refused to answer his questions about your past. He figured you hadn’t opened up to him yet, so he gave you more time to do so.

Yet, after a year of dating nothing has changed. As much as he tries not to let it get the better of him, he can’t help but feel a bit hurt.

Lying awake in bed one night, he comes to the conclusion that keeping quiet about the problem would only mean he’s the same as the people who betrayed your trust in the past.

Gently tugging at your shirt, he wakes you up, eager to talk to you. Your slight annoyance doesn’t dissuade him and he makes you turn around to face him, your hands in his as he sits propped on one elbow.

“MC, have you watched Cinderella?” You look at him, eyes wide in surprise at his absolutely random question.

He sees this even in the dimly lit room, so he wastes no time in giving you an explanation. “One of the characters there said ‘Even miracles take a little time’ or something along those lines…”

Bright red creeps up his cheeks and he’s grateful you don’t seem to have noticed it. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been patient with you and I will keep that up. Trust is not something you gain overnight and I get that it’s even harder for you.”

You pull him towards you in a tight embrace, making his breath hitch in his throat. “Thanks, Yoosung. Let’s take it slow.”

Jaehee

When it comes to your relationship, Jaehee and you have always taken your time with getting to know each other, your quirks, and your habits.

That’s why it takes her quite a while to notice taking your time with opening up runs deep.

She doesn’t hesitate to raise the question once she realizes there’s a problem, but she’s very careful to approach the subject since she doesn’t want to hurt you or bring back bad memories.

“MC, I realize this might be a sensitive topic, but I’d like you to know I will always be here for you.” Her hand slowly glides on the leather couch until it reaches yours. Once it does, she lets the tips of her fingers intertwine with yours, a gesture so endearing it brings a small smile to your face.

“I can’t fix you and I can’t change the past, although I wish I could. We can seek professional help if you’re willing to commit to it. Whatever your choice is, I will stay by your side and support you.”

Tears gather in your eyes at her words. “No one has ever treated me so kindly, Jaehee.” You pull her into a gentle embrace that she returns immediately. “Let’s work on this together.”

Jumin

Falling for you was easy for Jumin. You made it easy, with your bright smile, kind heart, warmth, and your accepting and understanding nature.

So even though he’s head over heels for you even a year later, he can’t help but feel a bit confused, hurt, and even helpless.

It’s not hard for him to figure out someone hurt you deeply in the past, so much so that the consequences have taken roots in your heart, leaving you unable to fully trust your partner again.

The thought of you being hurt makes him angry, but even more so baffles him. Who would be so cruel to prey on an angel like you?

He watches you from his comfortable position on the couch, his head in your lap, your fingers running through his hair. Your eyes are as bright as ever, but there’s an underlying sadness in them that he wants to snatch away and throw it in a dungeon it won’t ever be able to escape.

Slowly, he reaches his hand towards your face, his fingers gentle as they caress your soft skin. You close your eyes, letting your body and mind get completely absorbed in his touch.

“I love you, MC. I can tell you have gone through some hardships in the past.“ You open your eyes, but refuse to meet his gaze. Memories of past abuse flood your mind and threaten to trap you in their darkness, but there’s persistent light, albeit faint, that stops them from doing so.

“I know you have been mistreated in the past and I understand why you find it hard to move on. I want to help you, my love. I will shower you with endless love and affection in the hopes that one day you will find it in your heart to truly trust me. Even if it takes years, I will not leave your side.”

707 // Luciel // Saeyoung

He knows. Oh, he knows.

The pain you went through. The mental abuse. The way you were treated like an object rather than a person. He knows. And he hates that this happened to you.

Your ex promised you the world, then went ahead and lied to you, cheated on you, and then came back to you with a fake smile and another series of promises that they never intended to fulfill.

It wouldn’t be a lie if Saeyoung said he wants to make that person pay for what they did to you. He wants to drag them through hell and then back again, just so they could feel the same pain you did.

Yet, he knows he can’t do that. He has another top priority now and that is proving to you he’s not the same as that sorry excuse of a human being.

Saeyoung regrets pushing you away in the early stages of your relationship. He had pure, but badly executed intentions. So now, despite occasionally doubting that he’s good enough for you, he’s dead set on showing you his love is genuine.

Your hand in his, you sit on the hood of one of his cars, admiring the otherworldly beauty of the countless stars in the night sky. You feel his grip on your hand tightening, so you turn around to look at him, a trail of tears on his cheek faintly glowing in the dim light.

“I love you. I’ll keep on loving you forever if you let me, MC. Even long after I’m gone from this world, I’ll still love you. I hope one day you can believe that. I’ll wait patiently, so take your time, okay?”

Ray // Unknown // Saeran

He’s had his fair share of his trust getting trampled on, so he’s just as cautious towards other people as you are. Sometimes even more so.

Yet, he’s not like that when he’s with you.

You managed to gain his trust fairly quickly, showing him a part of life that he always craved for. Not only are you his first and only love, but you’re also his best friend.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case for you, too.

Even after a year of dating, he knows practically nothing about your past.

The bright man he is, he quickly comes to a realization that infuriates him as much as it scares him. Someone hurt you and the wound they left behind hasn’t healed yet, rendering you unable to fully trust anyone.

Saeran respects your choice to keep things to yourself, but he’d be damned if he let your wound unattended. Besides, even though he doesn’t want to admit it, deep inside he knows that not taking any action would cause you two to fall apart in the long term.

Making breakfast with you is one of his favorite things. Sleep still evident on both yours and his face, you two pace around the kitchen, trying not to break the eggs before they get to the pan.

“MC…” He’s hesitant, but he knows he has to say this and he has to say it before it’s too late.

“Sometimes I’m scared… Scared that this all might be a dream that will disappear when I least expect it. And I can tell you’re scared as well, perhaps for different reasons…”

He takes one egg from the pan and carefully places it in the middle of the vegetables in your plate. “But I know we can get through this.” Pausing for a second, he looks up to meet your eyes. “Together.”

Jihyun Kim // V

Having gone through an unhealthy relationship before, he knows it’s hard to let people in again after your trust has been betrayed in the past.

That’s why he’s patient with you.

He’s okay with you taking your time with opening up about your childhood, your family, and the issues you have with your parents and siblings, but he’s not okay with you keeping secrets that concern your relationship.

Of course, he wouldn’t make a problem of it, but rather tell you why it’s something that you two need to discuss.

“It’s okay to be scared, MC. I am, too.”

The smile on his face is comforting, soothing the pain your fresh wounds cause you. His words hit home, so you feel yourself willing to give this a try.

If he can confront his fears, so can you. If he’s able to find it in himself to trust you, then so can you. You’re not gonna let your fears control you and possibly ruin the most harmonious and healthy relationship you’ve ever had.

“I will not hurt you, MC. I’ve learned a lot and this time.. I want to do things right.“

#mystic messenger #mysme #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #jumin han #hyun ryu #zen #jihyun kim #v #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #mysme headcanons #Anonymous

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areadersjoy · 6 years

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Summary: *request* Jack ditches town because he doesn’t understand the full capacity of his powers. And when he returns, he takes you on an adventure that you’re not sure that you’re ready for.

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: S13 spoilers kind of? read at own risk.

Note: hey! sorry we haven’t posted in a minute lol. we’ve both been out doing stuff. i’ve honestly been lazy. this was REALLY fun for me to write, as i’ve LOVED this passed season. as you can see this got LONG haha. and with the way this ended? this could be a multi part series? maybe 1/2 more parts? let me know what you guys think! we love your thoughts and feedback. ALSO! don’t forget to vote on our poll! enjoy! - K

Posted: 06/03/2018

Crossing paths with someone like Jack Kline took you completely off guard. For one, you were at a point in your life where you were happy on your own, being independent, as well as being your own person, just doing as most young people did when they were trying to find their way in life. But you had learned pretty early on that trying to shake him was going to be difficult.

Jack was a kind soul. Though you could see he was struggling. There were things he still didn’t know, and couldn’t understand about the world. And despite your efforts to help him understand, nothing seemed to work. It nearly broke your heart to see someone as sweet as him to be at a battle with themselves. And you could see that his brothers, or... whoever these guys he was hanging around with, were truly no help either. Jack just needed help with his powers. He wasn’t going to get them through kind words of encouragement and with angels coming after him and his friends left and right.

So that’s why he took off.

It broke you, at first. Someone you had considered a friend, maybe even more, just getting up and leaving like that? What did that mean? What did you mean to him, nothing? It stung you in all the wrong places. Eventually, the sadness wore off, as it turned into anger. Why would he just go like that?! Without any reason? Without just saying goodbye?! Sure, he was no person, and he wasn’t like any normal person out there, but he had a heart. Or at least you thought he did. Those brothers of his had come to interview you, as if you had known of his whereabouts. But if you had known, you would have went after him in a heartbeat. They were just as at a loss as you were.

It had been a few weeks, maybe even getting closer to months at this point, since you had seen or even heard from Jack. You’d lost count purely due to the fact that you thought keeping count was unhealthy. Plus, if he wanted to stay, he would have. Those brothers of his hadn’t been in a contact with you in a while, and though every part of you wanted to reach out and see if they had heard anything blowing in the wind, you refrained.

For the most part, you had gotten back into the swing of things, gotten your independence back. You felt stupid for opening yourself up in the first place, and being so vulnerable. What kind of person believes in love, right?

You were just walking out of work for the day, your eyes checking your phone for any kind of message, not feeling any kind of surprise when you see that you have... none. That’s when your eyes shoot up, and you feel your heart drop as your gaze lands on a familiar mop of nearly perfectly sculpted blonde hair. But before you can even blink, a car goes by, and the figure is gone.

“Jack?” You let out in barely a whisper, looking in every which direction, and beginning to spin in circles. Had you really just seen him, or had that just been a hallucination. Sure, you’d been obsessing over him for a while now, but... things weren’t getting that bad, were they?

As you feel your heart rate begin to pick up again, you look back to where you had maybe seen him just moments earlier. Without letting any other thought cross your mind, you drop all of the belongings from your arms, and charge towards the road. You didn’t even notice the car heading right at you, until the car was blasting it’s horn right in your ear until it was too late. By that time you had frozen completely and... the car was... in the air, and illuminating some kind of florescent gold or yellow color. You stand there, staring up at the car that could have taken your life just moments earlier due to your carelessness, and watch as it’s slowly set down, and the light disappears, the driver then proceeds to speed off. What was that?

“(Y/N)?” A voice all too familiar asks, making your body tense. You take a moment to gather yourself before turning to face him. This almost didn’t feel real, it was like a dream to see him again. He looked... the same. A lot more peaceful, but... he was still the same Jack.

As you jumble through your own thoughts, you don’t even notice that Jack has made his way towards you, continuing to ask questions.

“Are you alright?” He asks, in the same smooth tone as before, his blue hues locked on your eyes. You blink at him, unsure of exactly how to reply. Talking with Jack was normally easy. It hadn’t been that long, although... it had been long enough for you to be questioning whether or not you were seeing a real Jack and not a mirage of him.

Out of instinct, and maybe out of the pent up anger you had been feeling since his departure, you feel the rage consume you, as you run forward, shoving him as hard as you possibly can.

“You jerk!” You yell at him, watching him furrow his brow, but take the assault. “What the hell were you thinking? How could you just leave without saying anything?! You just--how could you do that? It was so stupid, Jack!” You let out, running a hand through your hair, your breathing becoming a bit heavy as you feel the angered emotions leave, and the sadness overtake you. “You... you didn’t even say goodbye, Jack,” you eventually let out in a much softer tone, not even looking at him at this point.

Jack had taken this all to heart. He knew it wasn’t entirely right to leave all of the people he loved. But at the same time, it was exactly the right thing to do at the time. He had to do it to protect the people he loved most in the world. And to be honest? He would do the same thing again in a heart beat.

After a bout of silence, Jack nods your way, and finds himself taking a step towards you.

“I’m sorry,” he lets out softly.

You weren’t going to forgive him very easily, but... you were willing to at least try. What could you say? Jack was your one weakness in this world.

It had been a week or two since you and Jack had met up once again. And he was still being pretty odd. You had learned that those boys that you thought were his brothers, weren’t actually his brothers. Just some guys--which made more sense now. In retrospect, you should have known that, since Jack had a different last name and all. You didn’t know exactly what Jack was onto, a part from that he wanted to open the gate to some other universe, which... baffled you. He was out there doing things that confused you. Nonetheless, you still supported him. At the end of the day, you just hoped he wouldn’t be leaving you again, anytime soon.

Especially when the Winchesters returned, for they had tracked you and Jack down. For whatever reason, this terrified you to see them again. Especially the older of the two brothers. He hadn’t scared you before, but at this point, he was giving you I hate you vibes. Like you had been keeping Jack from them. Well, you had been keeping him from them the passed few weeks, but before then? You were just as lost as them. An argument went down between the Winchesters and Jack, and it scared you. It scared you because you thought Jack was going to run off again. You could tell just by how he was acting. He resembled a teenage boy who’s parents weren’t letting him get the candy he wanted--or worse, go to the park. Regardless, you had no clue what to do. You had seen the power Jack had encompassed with his time away, and you could see that the Winchesters didn’t believe that he had matured, and this saddened you. Why were they babying him?

“He saved my life,” you spit out, unable to hold it back. They all look your way, and Dean, the older one, shakes his head.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He asks. Though, he had seen this magic Jack had in first person before, so he had an idea of what you were talking about.

“A few weeks ago... I was about to get hit by a car and--!”

“--he pulled you out of the way?” Dean cuts you off, raising a brow.

“No! He... he pulled the car out of the way.”

This causes more tension between you all, but it’s pretty fair to say that you may have helped the Winchesters with trusting Jack a little bit more, even if they had a ways to go.

The day had come, and it was truly a wild ride for you all to get here. You had learned what Jack was doing all those weeks ago without you knowing--he was looking for dream walkers, in search of the correct universe to find Sam and Dean’s mother. And on that search for a dream walker, he had come across a scared, but incredibly sweet girl named Kaia Nieves. You had befriended her almost immediately. Though she was very shy, you felt very drawn to her. Jack was basically using her for her power, so you were doing your absolute best to help her through it.

You all sit anxiously in the ship, awaiting the door to open. Kaia sits with her eyes closed, nearly shaking like a leaf as Jack stands with his hands on her head, his eyes that same golden color as they usually are.

“I see her,” Jack lets out, making Sam and Dean perk up. “No--focus!” But before you know it, a huge light flashes, and Kaia screams. But this time, you aren’t there to hold her hand.

It’s too late.

The next thing you see is a darkened as well as dirty room, with much more dimmed and dusty colors than your used to. Where were you? What was this? Bringing your hands up, you wipe at your eyes, attempting to adjust to your new surroundings.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” You hear the all too familiar voice of Jack ask.

Once again, you find yourself unable to respond. Still, you’re taking in your surroundings, truly not knowing what’s going on. That’s when your sight aligns with that of a blonde woman who seems to be unconscious, shaking you to your very core. You put a hand over your mouth, tearing up immediately.

“Oh my god!” You let out, before you feel arms around you, as Jack pulls you into an embrace.

“Don’t worry, she’s alright. That’s... that’s Sam and Dean’s mom,” Jack says as calmly as he can manage. At this, you look back to the woman from the corner of your eye, doing your best to understand this.

Truly, you had no idea what to think. You knew he was into things like this, but you had no idea that they were actually real, and the fact that you were actually here right now absolutely terrified you. And you supposed that Jack could see that, for he was in a whirlwind of his own thoughts at the moment, too.

“You don’t have to worry, (Y/N),” he pauses, reaching for your hand. This makes you look over with tears in your widened eyes. “I’ll protect you.”

#jack kline imagine #jack line x reader #jack kline fluff #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #gif isn't that great but it's 1 am and this is the best I can do lmao

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goffilolo · 6 years

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Demsie of Midoriya Izuku part 12

And finally, after a long ass wait I present to you chapter 12, the longest chapter I ever wrote. It was a bitch to write but i hope you enjoy it. You can also read the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557743/chapters/34511609

Once again Izuku found himself on the hospital’s rooftop. It was a rather nice day, if one doesn’t count the catastrophe of a family reunion that took place mere hours ago. Although for someone who was admitted to the psychiatric ward after taking a jump from the top of a school building, the staff sure didn’t have any trouble leaving Izuku unsupervised out here. To be fair he WAS currently stuck in a wheelchair and the fence here was much higher and much sturdier than the one in his school, so yeah, fuck the hospital staff, they won’t even let you repeat your mistakes.

...Definitely not something he should say out loud in this place, lest his sweet release form goes to hell and he’s gonna be stuck for the rest of eternity in a white room with no doorknobs and a very unimpressed Shin.

Where was he?

Oh yeah, he was on the rooftop smoking a cigarette that he stole from his dad’s pocket while hugging him. ‘That is definitely a new low, even for me’ thought Izuku while trying not to choke, as his lungs resisted the offensive smoke. He never understood why people would start smoking, the stench was impossible to stand, the coughing was straight up annoying, not to mention the underlying knowledge that you’re basically giving yourself cancer. He never understood, but the curiosity was there, which is why when he felt the outline of the cigarette pack in the pocket of his father’s trench coat he thought to himself ‘Life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen’.

And it did.

Unfortunately his musings were interrupted by a sudden slam of the door, followed by a disheveled looking Shin.

“I am disappointed on so many levels, I don’t even know where to begin” said the doctor in his typical stone cold bitch fashion upon noticing the offending cancer stick in his patient’s mouth.

“Usually ‘Izuku, what the fuck?!’ is a good start-” replied the boy, as if he wasn’t struggling to breathe mere moments ago. And maybe, just maybe he would’ve managed to sound as smug as he hoped for, if it wasn’t for the coughing fit immediately interrupting his comeback.

“Alright, THAT’S IT!”

With that Shin stormed over to his patient and snatched the cigarette from his mouth and stomped it with his foot, while smacking Izuku on the back in a panicked manner.

The doctor continued to shout hysterically through Izuku’s cough attack “Goddamnit Izuku! You can’t just suffocate like that!” he continued to smack the boy on the back.

“Aaagh, I don’t even know how to do first aid!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW FIRST AID?! YOU’RE A FUCKIN DOCTOR!”

“I’M A PSYCHIATRIST, NOT A PHYSICIAN YOU DUMBASS!”

Fortunately for the two the coughing fit finally let go and all they were left with was the sound of their laboured breathing as the panic slowly dissolved.

Eventually Shin sat down on the bench with a grunt while looking off into the distance as both him and Izuku simultaneously let out a long, tired sigh.

“What a day, huh?” asked the boy, his voice hoarse, his ears not expecting an answer.

The doctor finally looked down at the crushed cigarette as he extended his hand in Izuku’s direction and made a grabby motion “C’mon, hand the rest of them over” he said “Don’t think I’m so naive as to think you don’t have more.”

The teenager mumbled something under his breath as he begrudgingly handed over the cigarette pack.

“The lighter too!”

“Ugh!”

Once again Izuku complied, albeit not without throwing Shin the dirtiest glare he could manage.

“Where did you even get those?” asked the doctor, eyes full of concern and curiosity as he looked over the cigarette pack in his hand.

“Took it straight outta my dad’s pocket when I gave him a hug” said Izuku in a nonchalant fashion hoping to get a kick out of the good doctor.

Now THAT left him baffled “You stole cigarettes from your dad who’s WHAT? A spy? Secret agent-”

“Mom said he’s technically a mercenary” corrected Izuku.

“-A mercenary!” exclaimed Shin, his voice once again filled with panic “Without being noticed! I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned” he said as an afterthought.

“Please be impressed” said Izuku “I don’t ever get to impress anyone.”

“You’re insufferable!”

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself” replied the boy.

“Anyway what are you doing here all by yourself? Don’t you have Mrs. Todoroki to bother? asked Shin, motioning to the wide, empty rooftop.

“Not until four. What about you, weren’t you supposed to be managing a group of very angry people trying to get their shit together?”

“Don’t change the topic. I want you to tell me why did you decide to smoke. You know how unhealthy and disgusting those cigarettes are? asked Shin as he shook his head in disapproval.

“You know what they say” joked the boy “Suicide for procrastinators!”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

“You know, it would be a shame if your release form accidentally fell into a paper shredder, wouldn’t it?” asked Shin with his trademark unimpressed tone and face of a disappointed mother.

“Fuck you Shin! We both know you wouldn’t be able to put up with me that long. Now spill the tea cause you sure as hell ain’t here for a smoking break” said Izuku. As much as Shin annoyed him at times, he could appreciate the banter between them. He never had that with anyone else, which made him wonder if Shin’s questionable level of professionalism would be a problem, although the man did tell him a story of how he had to fist fight his way into getting a medical licence, so maybe being professional was overrated.

“Look Izuku, I’m not supposed to be telling you these things, due to the patient confidentiality but - Fuck it! - you will never believe who came to the group anger management session!” and here goes the remains of Shin’s professionalism, taken to the back alley and shot in the head by his thirst for drama.

“Endeavour?” asked the boy, eyes full of hope, mischief and murder.

“You wish! No, it was Bakugou” exclaimed Shin in his suburban gossip mom voice.

Now THAT was way more interesting than his smoking habits. Fuckin’ Bakugou Katsuki in anger management? Everyone and their grandma joked about him needing it, but it was also equally known that it wouldn’t happen.

Did the Bakugou Shitshow really affect him that much?

“And what was Kacchan doing there? He got lost or something?”

The good doctor looked uncertain. He knew he overstepped the boundaries long ago when it came to Izuku’s case. He never meant for it to happen, it just came naturally, but now with Bakugou as his patient as well he would have to start being impartial for the sake of both of them and whatever remained of his professional conduct.

His initial impression of Bakugou based on what Izuku said wasn’t the best to say the least. But Shin knows he needs to put those feelings aside if it means helping Bakugou in making a personal progress and amending for the things he did in his misguided superiority complex.

...That being said a little gossip never killed anyone.

And maybe, just maybe telling Izuku of Bakugou’s progress could help them both in some way. Time will tell.

“Surprisingly no-” said Shin “He came to the session on his own accord from what I could tell. Now, you should’ve seen his face when he realised I was going to be the one running the session. It was priceless!” laughed the doctor as he waved for Izuku to come closer.

“Fuck, this is better than those shitty telenovelas of yours. Tell me everything. How did he look? What did he say?” asked Izuku, firing of the questions in a child-like excitement that used to be so typical of him before the fall.

“Now, as I said I can’t say much about the session itself, but he will be coming back for one-on-one sessions, so you might end up bumping into him” warned the doctor.

“Oh FUCK NO! You gotta let me in on your schedule so I can avoid that!”

“You’ve been snooping around my office recently, shouldn’t you know my schedule already?” asked Shin, not even bothered about Izuku’s not-so-subtle snooping around confidential paperwork, because sometimes things be like that.

“First of all I have no idea what you’re talking about” said the boy, trying to feign ignorance, although his need for sarcasm took over relatively quickly “and second of all, even if I did I wouldn’t have looked at your schedule, only the official evaluation notes you submit to the board. Gotta stay updated on the shit you tell them about me.”

“You know what-” suddenly Shin was interrupted by a beeping sound coming from his pager. He took a quick glance at the device to check the room number.

“Well, it was nice talking, but it looks like Mrs. Todoroki needs me” announced the doctor as he stood up and adjusted his glasses, readying himself to return to the ward.

“Hey Doc! Wait up, i was gonna go and see Mrs. Todoroki anyway” said Izuku, trying and failing to make a rotation in his wheelchair to get to the door. Eventually Shin turned around and took a hold of the wheelchair’s handles, pushing Izuku into the elevator.

“For all the talk about elevator music I don’t think I’ve ever been in an elevator that played any music. Like are they ever real, or are the just some cryptids?”

“Izuku I wish you came with a mute button”

“Thanks, I get that a lot”

The rest of the elevator ride was silent. It was a good type of silence though, one that didn’t indicate tension or left either side feeling the need to fill ssid silence with useless chatter. More often than not Izuku found himself feeling quite content in the company of the eccentric doctor, Mrs. Todoroki, the gossipy four-armed nurse and Fuyumi-neesan. Over the years as his quirkless status left him isolated, the only silence Izuku experienced was the lonely, unfulfilling one. Now though, despite the situation he’s in, the boy can safely say that the past six weeks in the hospital felt better than the past ten years of his life.

“Ok, that’s just sad” said Shin, interrupting Izuku’s thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You were mumbling again” he explained.

With a quiet ‘DING’ the elevator door opened and the doctor stepped out, followed by the quiet, metallic screech made by Izuku’s wheelchair. Just as the two were rounding up the corner in the direction of Mrs. Todoroki’s room, Izuku bumped into the bespectacled doctor as he abruptly stopped in his tracks.

“Shin, what the-”

“Shhhh!”

The doctor quickly backtracked and peeked out from the corner they were standing behind. Izuku wasn’t sure what startled the doctor, but it must’ve been serious.

“Psst, Doc” whispered Izuku “why are we hiding?”

“He’s here…”

“Who?”

“Endeavour!”

Izuku couldn’t believe his ears. He rolled the wheels forward as quietly as possible to take a look, and sure enough, an angry looking trash can on fire known as Endeavour was standing in front of his wife’s room, accompanied by Fuyumi-neesan who looked somewhat panicked as she tried to calm her father down. Izuku quickly turned back and looked at Shin.

“Shit! he can’t be here. He’s only going to upset Mrs. Todoroki, what do we do?” asked the boy, his protective side taking over.

Izuku has grown very fond of the gentle woman, who suffered abuse at the hands of her husband along with her children. He could never understand how anyone could bring themselves to hurt her, yet here he was, faced with the very monster who did. He wasn’t a hero, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t help her.

“I’m pretty sure she called for a doctor to scare him away. I can’t tell him to leave without a reason, so we must do something to provoke him” mused Shin, the cogwheels in his head turning.

“I’ve got an idea” exclaimed Izuku, as loudly as he could without being overheard by the nearby flaming garbage can.

Shin felt skeptical, understandably so “Go on” he said nevertheless.

“We go out there and I start screaming like I’m batshit crazy, that will throw his off his rhythm. Then I grab a phone book and start hitting him with it, cause you know, phone books don’t leave bruises. While I do that you attack him from behind and hit him in the head. Once he’s out we take him to a secondary location and before you know it BAM someone’s gonna find him dead in the back of a trunk with his hand sticking out of the taillights three days later!”

Shin did not look impressed.

“Why-” he said, and if it wasn’t the most desperate and resigned tone Izuku has ever heard.

“Why are you like this?”

“What do you want me to say?” shrugged Izuku “The TV in the common room has access to Netflix.”

The doctor sighed once again, he expected nothing, yet he still managed to be disappointed.

“Look, I’m on board with the whole batshit crazy screaming, but none on the ‘found dead in the back of a car trunk’, deal?”

“Deal”

“So, do Do I just push you out there?”

“Yeah”

“Ok, but how crazy are we talking?”

“Forever-quill level of crazy”

“Jesus. Alright, let’s do this”

With a newfound resolve, the doctor once again grabbed the wheelchair handles and pushed his patient forward to do what had to be done.

Immediately Izuku started screaming like his life depended on it, while Shin schooled his expression to remain as impassive as possible. He’s sure they made quite a sight. Fuyumi looked over her father’s shoulder, very confused at Izuku’s behaviour, but Shin quickly mouthed ‘play along’ as discreetly as possible, to reassure Fuyumi and not have their charade given away.

As soon as the two got close enough Izuku started to shout nonsensical threats and insults at the man, hoping to antagonize him enough to get an aggressive response and get him kicked out.

“You fuckin’ pile of wombat shit!” screamed Izuku, trying to sound as angry and insane he was back during the quill incident.

To his credit Endeavour was so surprised at the sudden insult that he didn’t have the time to get angry straight away.

Although, being Endeavour his anger caught up to him rather quickly.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU INSOLENT BRAT?!”

“I KILLED GOD IN 2007 AND YOU’RE NEXT PAL!” screamed Izuku in a vicious manner, which cased Endeavour’s beard to light up in his signature flame.

He promptly turned towards the doctor, who seemed unusually calm and quiet despite handling an apparent lunatic “Aren’t you going to do anything about him?!” he asked, barely concealing his fury.

As always Shin managed to remain cold and professional when needed, which mostly occured when he had to bullshit his way through something as he answered the flaming man.

“Sir, as I’m sure you are aware this is a psychiatric ward, and this kind of behaviour is common in a lot of our more...unstable patients, so please try not to aggravate him further for his own wellbeing. On that note please put out the fire on your beard, as it is against our health and safety protocols to have any flame inside the building, otherwise I will have to get you removed from the premises.”

“YOU HEARD HIM, BEGONE THOT, BEGONE!” screeched the boy, waving his arms around in a chaotic manner, while Shin gently patted him on the head as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

By this point, Endeavour barely managed to put out the fire on his beard, gritting his teeth in fury only a step away from snapping, while Fuyumi did her best not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“See right here?! The fire! I have a proof” shouted Izuku “ YOU’RE THE DEVIL! YOU THINK THAT WITH THE GOD GONE YOU CAN DO WHAT YOU WANT, BUT JUST YOU FUCKIN WAIT, I WILL STAB YOUR PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A HEART STRAIGHT OUTTA YOU AND TAKE YOUR PLACE ON THE THRONE YOU HEAR ME?!”

“This is UNACCEPTABLE!” shouted Endeavour, once again addressing the doctor, seeing as there wasn’t any chance of talking sense into the insane teenager in the wheelchair.

“You know what’s unacceptable?” asked Izuku, in an eerie calm voice as he looked the man straight in the eye, for the first time not hiding behind the curtain of insanity. He thought of all the things Mrs. Todoroki told him, all the things he has gathered from his hero analysis as he gave the man the sharpest, most cruel glare he could manage.

He managed to catch the man off guard once again.

“It’s unacceptable how a swine like you is still walking amongst us. You think you’re so smart? You think I can’t see the coldness and cruelty oozing off your heart?”

“Listen here boy” snarled Endeavour as he took a hold of the wheelchair and got right up in Izuku’s face “I don’t know what is going on inside that crazy head of yours, but you better stop that right now, before I get really mad!”

Izuku tried to swallow down the fear as he felt the heat radiating off the man’s beard once again. ‘It's for Mrs. Todoroki’ he told himself. He was so close.

“Or what?” asked Izuku with a smirk, his tone getting dangerously low and quiet so that only Endeavour could hear him “You’ll beat me like you did with the rest of your family?”

Bam! Critical hit!

Which was ultimately followed by the man snapping and violently grabbing Izuku in his fury.

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S ENOUGH!” exclaimed Shin as he motioned for one of the nurses to come over “Sir, you’re conducting yourself in a violent manner and threatening my patient, I am removing you from this ward, as well as banning you from any future visitations.”

The doctor and the four armed nurse both moved to pull Endeavour away from Izuku, but not before the boy has spat in the man’s face, wearing the most shit-eating grin to have ever graced the humanity.

As he was being dragged out, the angered man spared one last glance at the green haired boy in the wheelchair.

“Just you wait Endeavour” called out Izuku as he flipped the bird to the fuming man “This isn’t over. When I get out I will make your life living hell! I will set the whole world on fire if I have to!”

The man glared at the teenager, as his whole being became an embodiment of the wrath itself.

“This isn’t a threat-” said Izuku “-It’s a promise.”

Soon enough there was no Endeavour in sight and so Izuku turned to Fuyumi who at this point was barely holding it together.

“It’s ok, the trash was taken out, you can laugh now.”

Fuyumi doubled over almost immediately laughing harder than she ever did before. She felt hysteric, cathartic, so many things at once. No one has talked to her father like that, it was an amazing sight to say the least. Fuyumi knew that her father’s anger wouldn’t pass quickly after something like that, but for now she wanted to enjoy his defeat.

In the meantime Izuku wheeled himself closer to Mrs. Todoroki’s room and knocked on the door “He’s gone, you can come out now!”

The door opened as the white haired woman walked out hesitantly. While she wanted to laugh along with Fuyumi, her fear of Endeavour and concern for Izuku’s safety took over.

“Izuku, are you alright?” she asked, gently grasping Izuku’s face, turning it from side to side looking for any injuries.

“I’m fine, he just grabbed me suddenly at the end, but then I spat in his face and Shin and Ms. Shouji pulled him away” replied the boy, hoping to calm the woman down. Izuku himself was buzzing with energy, the encounter left him feeling a rush of adrenaline.

“I’m sorry” said Mrs. Todoroki “I didn’t want to drag you into this. I only called for Dr. Iyashi as a last resort, since I didn’t want to be alone with Enji.”

“It’s not your fault” replied Izuku as he hugged the woman in what he hopes was a reassuring manner “I wanted to say a few things to this bastard for a while. This was as good of an opportunity as any” he chuckled.

“As soon as I heard your voice I became so scared, I was so scared he would hurt you, just like hurt me and Shouto” she sobbed.

Shouto. Mrs. Todoroki’s youngest son. Izuku talked to the woman quite often and so he had a good grasp on the situation of the family. She talked about Shouto a lot, more often than not riddled with guilt, as she told over the same story of how she snapped and spilled boiling water on the child’s face, because it reminded her so much of her husband. The same story of the strict ‘training’ that Shouto was forced into by his father when his quirk manifested. The same story of her child, whose dream to be a great hero like All Might was shattered in a manner much different, yet just as brutal as Izuku. It was probably the first and the only time in Izuku’s life when he was glad to have been born without a quirk.

One day he was going to meet Shouto. He was already elbows deep in the Todoroki’s family drama, might as well go all the way. But that’s for later. Now he needed to comfort the woman who became like a second mother to him.

“I’m okay, you’re okay, he can’t hurt us anymore. Shin kicked him out of the hospital for good. He won’t be allowed to visit anymore.”

Speaking of Shin, the man just got back up from the reception, after having to escort the angry man out of the hospital and banning him from making any more visits.

“What you did-” he said while pointing at Izuku, still trying to catch his breath “-was the most stupid thing I have seen in my entire life. Do you have no self-preservation instinct?!”

“No”

“Thought so”

“C’mon Shin, don’t be so stiff, it was epic! I talk shit to Endeavour, spat on his face and got him kicked out of here. This couldn’t have been better!”

“Perhaps so, but still what did I tell you about being more careful?”

“I don’t know Shin, what did I tell YOU about not expecting miracles?”

“Dr. Iyashi!” called out Mrs. Todoroki “Thank you for helping me, and I’m sorry that I’ve put you both in this situation.

“Please don’t trouble yourself with it, it was about time this man got banned from here and as much as I’m furious with Izuku right now, he did do a splendid job in getting him kicked out” said Shin, wiping his glasses clean as he tried to give Izuku a reprimanding glare, although the effect wasn’t the same when he had to squint.

“Ok, cool! Now that this shitshow is over, how about we go to the common room and watch some Netflix?” asked Izuku.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got work to do” replied Shin.

“Don’t be like that Doc. WE are your work, you’ve gotta look after us so get your ass to the common room and look after us like a good doctor you’re supposed to be” said Izuku, already turning in the direction of the common room.

“Ugh, fine! But don’t think you’re off the hook after the stunt you pulled at the roof today” exclaimed the doctor as he joined his patient’s side and ruffled his hair.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!”

#demise!au #bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #iyashi shin #todoroki fuyumi #mrs. todoroki #endeavour #fanfic

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looselucy · 6 years

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Forty - One Year

February 2nd Walking hand in hand with someone in public like I had nothing to hide was still something I was growing accustom to. I often found myself glancing down to mine and Will’s hands, wondering why it felt so odd that they were linked together. It wasn’t even just that, the fact that I could even be with him in public baffled me, since I had grown used to having an indoor relationship because of Harry. But I enjoyed the fact that I could just go and get lunch with Will and there was nothing to worry about, we could go out for drinks together and not have to pretend we were strangers.

We were still in the early stages, I hadn’t even slept with him, but things were incredibly sweet between the two of us. He was a gentleman, always pulling out chairs for me and opening doors for me. One thing that annoyed me was that he refused to let me pay for anything, that drove me mad, but since we were only on our first few dates I wasn’t going to call him up on it quite yet, but I wouldn’t let him carry that on. We wandered through the busy streets together, mumbling light conversations and catching up. I couldn’t actually quite believe how packed it was since the weather was incredibly bitter, my gloves, hat, and giant coat couldn’t keep out the cold. There was a slight inkling of snow, but unfortunately it wasn’t sticking to the ground. We reached the place we were having lunch, Will typically holding the door for me and gently pushing me inside. The relief that rushed me as the warmth of the room took over me was beautiful, making me breathe in with a deep appreciation. I looked around to see the beautiful place Will had picked out, there was a nice bustle amongst the people sat there eating their food, the lighting was dim which coloured the bare brick walls quite beautifully. “I booked us a table.” He leaned into my ear. I blushed a smile to him as I saw him wink at a man who worked there, who seemed to automatically know who he was, beginning to lead us to a quiet table at the back of the room without either of them having to say a word. Will kept his hand snaked around my waist until I unbuttoned my coat, revealing my outfit for the evening. I was wearing a simple black playsuit, and Will wore a beautiful tight fitted black suit. It was nice getting all dressed up and going out with him, it felt like we were a real, mature couple. I thanked the waiter as he seated us, another man already bringing over a pre-ordered bottle of wine which looked more expensive than I cared to think. “Well look at you.” I smiled to Will, seating myself. “You’ve gone all out.” He grinned to himself as he took a seat across from me, shuffling off his coat and revealing the entire suit to me, proving even more so how good he looked when he was dressed well. Then again, he always looked good. “Special night for a special girl.” Sometimes, I couldn’t decide if my blushing to his words were because I was flattered or because I wasn’t too fond of his cheesy lines, but I knew he meant it whenever he spoke that way, and that was sweet of him. “Well… thank you.” I spoke. “It’s really lovely.” The waiter poured the wine into the glasses for us, which Will proceeded to taste and tell the waiter it was fine, as it always goes. After the waiter walked away, I asked a stupid question that always played my mind. “What would they do if like… you just spat the wine back out saying it was horrible and demanded a new one! Would they have to do it?” “Umm, I dunno. I guess so.” He chuckled. “British people are far too polite to do that anyway!” I said. “Even if it came, and I hated it, I don’t think I would ever tell them about it.” “Well, you’re actually only supposed to do it to make sure the wine hasn’t gone off. Not just to see if you like it.” “But what if you didn’t like it?” I quizzed. “Do you ever shut up?” He joked. “... No, not really.” I smirked. He bit his lip and admired me across the table. The lighting of the place complimented his tanned skin quite beautifully. I had always been attracted to him, but the more I saw of him it increased. Soon enough the waiter was back by our side, passing us both a menu as we thanked him. I gritted my teeth as I looked down to a menu full of food I couldn’t even understand, which happened to me quite often, and I always had to end up asking the other person who I was with what half the food was. This restaurant was no different. I sat there trying to figure out what everything was, but the word pizza quickly leapt out at me and I knew I would be ordering something from the list, so I decided not to care about any of the other words on the menu. We muttered between each other happily before placing our orders. There was a nice buzz to the place he had chosen, I realised the distant sound of a piano wasn’t a track being played, but an actual pianist sat in the corner, trapped in his own creation, lost within the sounds. I couldn’t speak for a while as I watched him in admiration, loving the talent he had and was sharing with the room. I eventually turned back to Will, giving him a small smile, silently thanking him for introducing me to the wonderful place. He nodded, silently accepting my thanks. “So,” I coughed. “It’s The Brits next week and I want you to come with me.” “The Brits?” He questioned, confused. “Yeah.” “Wait... The Brits?” “Do you need me to spell it out?” I laughed. “How come you get to go to The Brits?” I could already see how excited he was. “Well it’s all that AM Girl bullshit, and we’re up for Best Video again. So...” The decision to be in another video wasn’t an easy one. For some time, images of Tyler swirled my mind in an uncontrollable whirlpool, sickening me to the core. I couldn’t help but think that if I was to star in another video, there was the opportunity that someone else could grow and unhealthy infatuation with me, that someone else with an unstable mind could see me in the same way he had. I struggled to come to terms with how unlikely that would be. I struggled to accept that I was safe. There were just a few things changed my mind. I didn’t want to let my fear and trepidations turn in sexism. I didn’t want to let all males fall into the same category, I didn’t want to let one boy skewer my vision of the rest. I had enough positive male company in my life to not let that happen to my mind. Another thing was that I didn’t want it to control me. I didn’t want painful experiences and memories to take over my being. I wanted to move past him, and what he’d done to me, and being in another video felt like I was doing that. As much as sometimes it frustrated me, AM Girl had become part of who I was, and the thought of letting Tyler take that away from me angered me so much more than I had expected it to. By being in another video, it felt like I was winning, it felt like I had defeated him even further. He wanted me trapped, he wanted me caged, he wanted me all to himself. And even now he was gone, I still wanted to prove to him that I was free. I was no longer locked in his basement, not even in the deepest, darkest parts of my mind. Being in the video was a way of acting out and reaffirming those thoughts. The video was released later than planned, but eventually I moved along to the music of ‘I Want It All’ in a video I loved much more than the previous two. They were all pretty brilliant when it came to subliminal messages of female power, but this one rang that message even more so, I thought. It was a strange video, it seemed a little artier than the others. It consisted of me sat on throne atop the stage of an old theatre, the place gloomy and dusted. I stared out into the audience, which was full of men, all desperate to reach me, all watching me, but all I did was sit there. Eventually the room erupted into a giant fight, but I just continued to watch them, a real lack of interest on my face as I drank a green bottle of beer unenthusiastically. It was as simple as that, but obviously there was so much meaning behind it all. It didn’t just show female power, it displayed male weakness, it said so much and it said it so silently, it had actually received a lot of credit for the things it spoke, what people took from it, how it made people feel. Being a part of it was one of the best decisions I had ever made. “Are you kidding me? I GET TO GO TO THE BRITS?” His giddy excitement was one of the cutest things I had ever seen, his reaction reminded me of someone just telling a toddler they were going to Disney World, it made me giggle and blush. A few heads turned our way but we didn’t really care, it was a happy little moment we were sharing. “If you want to.” I shied. “Of course I want to!” He grabbed my hand across the table. “Anna, that’s amazing, thank you so much.” “Don’t worry about it.” I smiled to him. “I’m glad you’re going to be there.” Pain crashed into my mind in a sharp headache as thoughts came to me, thoughts of how it must have been a year since I had met him, thoughts of how he was going to be there, thoughts of what he might say or think when he saw me, if he would act as though I was a stranger, if he would talk to me. But I knew, in some way, I was going to interact with Harry once again. And my heart sunk at the thought. I knew that was the main reason I asked Will to go with me.

I couldn’t help but compare the car drive to the red-carpet to the year before, where everything had been so fresh and I was completely controlled. I had so much more freedom the second time around, even to the point where the media had stopped being so negative about me and come to a strange conclusion that I wasn’t actually all bad. I appreciated it in some ways, but then even that annoyed me because I wished to be one of those people who just didn’t give a fuck what they said about me, bad or good. But I did, there was no changing that. Alex and the boys sat drinking and conversing, and a weird part of me couldn’t help but sit back and look at the moment with the feeling that nothing had changed, even though everything had. Rachel and Will were going to meet us inside, not joining us for the quick stroll down the red strip that apparently marked your worth. The boys weren’t as nervous this time round, the previous year they had been nominated for the album, which was a massive deal to them. Since they hadn’t smashed out an album in the past year, they were only up for video, but I was really excited about it. I think another thing that made it feel better for me was the fact that I felt so much more comfortable, I was half knowing what to expect, I knew the ground wasn’t going to swallow me, the lights weren’t going to blind me, the crowds weren’t going to trample me. I just felt more at ease. Of course, my anxiety levels were high. I kept imagining the scenario of what would happen if and when me and Harry bumped into one another. I couldn’t help but keep playing it over and over in my mind, how it would be. I was more than aware that there would be some awkwardness, but I knew that Harry was an incredibly polite person, I just pictured he would umm and ahh some idle conversation and then we would awkwardly part. It made me sad, thinking of the two of us being that way. We had shared so much, there was so much history between us, I hated the thought of just brushing that under a rug. It also came down to the fact that I had become so strong thanks to him, part of the reason I was still standing on my feet was because of what he had done for me. I knew all of that was going to be ignored in our inevitable exchange, it made me feel so uncomfortable. I shook off the feeling as best I could. My eyes traced down over my dress. I had opted for something other than black and gone for a dark purple floor-length dress, temptingly dark. It fit around my neck, once again covering the tattoo. The rest of the dress was attached from there, and it flowed down and nipped at my waist before becoming loose again. Combined with my dark hair, even though my outfit wasn’t black it was still a dark look from me. But what did I really expect from myself? I brushed some hair from my face and took a deep breath in, still having to silently prepare myself for the event. I could kind of see Alex smiling at me from the other side of the limo, looking incredibly dapper again in one of his many suits. “You okay, Black?” I looked up to him, knowing there was still a slight bit of concern in his question no matter how positive his smile was. “I’m really good.” I told him honestly. “I know what you’re nervous about.” He said firmly. “Yeah?” “Styles.” I rolled my eyes, hearing the distant buzz of the crowd as we neared the arena, getting closer and closer to our destination, closer and closer to what Alex had correctly guessed I was nervous about. I shrugged, moving past the moment, again. “I suppose it’s best to get it over with.” “When did you become such a positive person?” He almost laughed. I didn’t know the answer to that question. I pictured myself a year ago, and I was a lot more negative then. It was surreal, you would think after everything that had happened it would have made me more negative, but it had just swayed me, it just made me embrace things more, and I liked that. I continued to find pride in myself because of the matter. I giggled away the question as we slowly pulled up, the layout exactly the same as the previous year, everything seeming so uncomfortably familiar as I glanced out of the windows, seeing the same desperate hands reach to the car. “You ready?” Jamie asked. We all nodded, and quickly enough the door swung open, the lights burned at our skin, and I was taken back a year in time.

“CHEERS!” We all clinked our glasses together and cheered, celebrating yet another win at The Brits. It came as no surprise that once again I refused to get on stage when they called up the boys for best video, feeling far too shy and withdrawn for the matter, but I was still incredibly happy about it. I beamed as Alex made a drunken speech on stage, subconsciously gripping hold of Will’s hand down by my side. The evening moved on, and we were now at the after-party, celebrating our win over expensive alcohol that I didn’t even really enjoy the taste of but it was fun to play along. We all grimaced after our sips, none of us seeming to like the taste that swilled our mouths. Quickly, Will snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me to him and placing a big kiss on my cheek. I giggled, turning to look at him, our lips beautifully close as I gazed down to his, almost able to feel his chisel scratching my skin in a manner I enjoyed. “You should have got up on stage.” He smirked. “And why’s that?” I couldn’t keep my eyes off his lips. “I like the idea of boys being insanely jealous of me.” He cocked his brows. “I don’t need to be on stage for that.” I played. “My unavoidable charm and wit and incredible personality will do all that for me.” “Oh, well I guess I’m a lucky guy.” “You are. Well done.” I moved in and kissed him, the first drags of alcohol affecting me in such a wonderful way as I began to really enjoy the atmosphere we were in. The room was alive, loud happy voices thudded at the walls of the room which began to reflect in my heart. I kissed Will tenderly, both of us grinning into the kiss, hearing Alex woo at our embrace from the side. We eventually pulled away, still smiling into one another’s sparkling eyes as I took him in, enjoying the time I was spending with him. “I’m gunna go to the bar and actually buy a drink I like. You want anything?” I asked. “No, I’m good thank you.” He returned. I pecked his lips again before un-slotting from his side, slowly making my way over to the bar. It wasn’t too busy, a few others stood there casually chatting and drinking but it wasn’t swarmed, people seemed to have gotten a number of bottles in one foul swoop and taking them to their tables. I smiled to the waiter behind the bar, requesting a whiskey and lemonade. “So you haven’t changed.” Harry’s voice made my face drop and my stomach churn as my breathing became horrifically unsteady. I closed my eyes and tried to calm, rolling my shoulders before turning in the direction the bellowing deep voice had come from. His dimples deepened and filled and he chewed on his gum, looking at me with the most indifferent expression. He looked incredible, his hair freshly cut and clean, typically swooped back over his head, looking soft to the touch. His skin seemed darker than usual, his shoulders broader and his stature was incredibly tense. He put his eyes up and down me with not a flicker of emotion, which caused my heart to strain. “Hi.” I barely whispered. He shot a completely sarcastic smile at me, and the more our exchange played out, the more my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t even polite like I had expected, he just looked as though he really didn’t care, like he hardly knew me. Like he hated me. “How are you?” I couldn’t raise the pitch of my broken voice. “What do you care?” He scowled, turning away from me, leaning on the bar. “Wh-what?” I could barely speak; I could feel my throat hitching in a way that was suggesting I was going to cry. I couldn’t explain how I felt, it was like he was repeatedly hitting me in the chest without touching me, like his knuckles were meeting my flesh and leaving me winded. The barman caught my attention again by passing me the drink I ordered. I quickly passed him my money, telling him to keep the change regardless of how much that actually was, I just needed to get away. I moved, trying to get away from him as swiftly as possible. “Say hi to your boyfriend.” He shouted over his shoulder. I stopped dead in my tracks, the feeling of sadness disappearing to be replaced with a frustrated annoyance, my nostrils flaring as I fleeted back around, marching over to him, my attitude and mood having totally changed. “Excuse me?” I shot. He moved from the bar, looking at me with no emotions, still chewing his gum. He raised his eyebrows as though asking me what the fuck my problem was. You are. You’re my problem. “Is that why you’re acting like a cunt?” I raised my voice. “Nah. He seems like a nice guy. Just send my love to him.” He smirked sarcastically. “What the fuck is your problem? You have a girlfriend!” He started laughing, you know that kind of cocky self-assured snigger that suggested he thought I was fucking idiot. I hated it. “Y’know what, Harry, I actually thought you were going to be decent.” I spat. “Nice to see you’ve turned into a total arse-hole since the last time I saw you.” “Nice to see my current girlfriend is a lot better than my ex.” He returned. My urge to slap him was so unbelievably great that I had to walk away, I had to storm away from the situation as quickly as I could before things got out of hand. My blood boiling sent my body into a shivering spiral as I paced away from him, my angry breathing guiding me towards the back exit of the building, making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone in the hope they wouldn’t see and follow me. I burst through a pair of fire doors, finding myself in an empty back-alley, the gentle bustle of London sounding in the distance. The wet concrete pressed beneath my feet, the end of my dress catching onto it thanks to the fact I had abandoned my heels earlier in the night, taking some of my height away from me. And as I expected to scream out into the night, letting my anger seep my voice box, another sound escaped me. A sob. And I just burst out crying.

#last one this week #I'm no longer miles ahead with editing #will try to change that #until then #HAPPY READING #AMG40 #1dff

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traitor-boyfriend · 6 years

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I got into a civil debate with a kyman shipper about Cartman secretly crushing on Kyle, but what worries me is that said person confuses sadistic lust and a hate filled obsession with love. Idk I just find that kind of worrying? Of course not all kyman shippers, but this specific one didn't really know the difference. Like they were using what happened in Imaginationland as proof of romantic feelings...how. I don't hate said person, it's just very...worrying

ugh. so this particular ask has been sitting in my inbox for.. honestly i can’t even remember. two weeks? probably more. and it’s cos there was something very specific i wanted to articulate and i’m not sure i’ve necessarily found the right words but i really want to have this answered so lets hope i find them along the way

anyway, i think that’s what’s particularly bothersome to me about the idea that cartman is capable of having a healthy, loving relationship w anyone, least of kyle; cartman approaches everything through a lens of competition and domination. we literally just had an entire season of this with heidi – . she remarks at one point that a relationship isn’t 50/50 but 100/100, which is a nice sentiment if your partner had ever once brought 50% to begin with. cartman’s relationship was one of self-preservation and convenience; she had been exiled from the inner circle of kids through social media around the same time as cartman. they were both experiencing this kind of isolation, so to cope, they do it together. even then in season 20 there are obvious misgivings on cartman’s part about his feelings for heidi in the last few episodes, suggesting that a lot of his transformation was merely performative as a method of blending in and trying to soothe his ego by working his way back into the spotlight by behaving in a way that’s socially advantageous. but once cartman *is* back to his normal spot within the group, that’s when his relationship with heidi sours, and when an entire season of manipulation and gaslighting begins. christ, he tried multiple times to literally have heidi killed. worse yet, seemed appalled at the suggestion that stan, kyle, and kenny wouldn’t help him do it, or by kyle’s indignant plea that he just break up with her and leave heidi alone. there was no need for cartman to get heidi off her vegan diet. i think he just wanted to see if he could, and he did, b/c cartman can’t help but act maliciously when presented w someone who is so completely and totally under his thumb b/c his desire is not rooted in being someone’s equal. it’s in being superior, being dominant, being the one to come out on top in even the most mundane or self-created form of competition.

take for example cartman’s fixation w rape: it’s obvious cartman doesn’t necessarily see his mother as an autonomous human being but rather an object that serves him, and i think that’s the root of his anxiety in “insecurity” at the idea of a stranger breaking into his home and assaulting his mother – b/c he views it as an act of degradation against his property, not out of genuine concern for liane. in the first coon episode, cartman see two grown adults who, by every possible indication, are on a date that is going very well. the man asks her consent to kiss her, and when he does, that’s when cartman comes out of the woodwork to stop this supposed crime. it’s an obvious joke about cartman’s delusions of grandeur in being a so-called vigilante in that he isn’t actually thwarting any real crime or even the threat of it, but it’s interesting to note that cartman views even the most innocuous of romantic situations as an assault. in tfbw, when doctor timmy uses his psychic powers on cartman, he remarks that timmy is “raping [his] mind.” he has an extremely warped view of sex and romantic relationships. there’s more but i don’t have the time to comb through and list them.

there’s a lot of arguments surrounding whether or not cartman is capable of change, and i think the answer is a very plain no. do i think there’s potential in tempering some of the more extreme aspects of his personality? sure, it’s possible i guess. but as far as the brunt of who cartman is, no. it’s the entire purpose of his character. matt and trey have said this time and time again – cartman is meant to represent the very worst not only in themselves but in anyone. in people. cartman is the human embodiment of id. you are not supposed to think positively or cartman.. the ten yr old obese nazi murder child is not to be revered; it’s the antithesis of his character. and yeah, kyle often has a naive optimism that cartman can change, but this has less to do with any positive feelings he has toward cartman and more an example of kyle’s compassion being illustrated as a situational flaw. he’s been betrayed enough times that he should know better by now than to trust in cartman’s ability to act in an altruistic or considerate way, yet that belief in compassion is vital to kyle’s moral outlook, so he keeps believing despite all evidence to the contrary. and he’s not alone! ii know a lot of people reject this not out of a love of cartman but more of a basic sympathetic belief that everyone is capable of change – which is a noble mindset! and at it’s core i believe that. human plasticity is incredible, and there are a lot of really great and sincere activism done around helping people reform and repent vile and oppressive mindsets, but south park is not reality – you treat reality within the context of societal norms of the show. neither will cartman ever have access to any such kind of therapy or behavioral rehabilitation. he is too far gone. it began and ended w scott tenorman; there’s no reformation after that. i can’t believe i’ve seen people argue that “well, he didn’t actually -kill- scott’s parents!” as if that, like, makes the act of him desecrating their dead bodies and grinding them up into raw meat and then feeding the remains to their child (also, his half-brother) more palatable. i believe this was a very deliberate hole matt and trey dug themselves into; up until that point cartman had mostly just been an ignorant, mean-spirited bully, so transforming his character by having him orchestrate something so genuinely evil, he has carte blanche to be as vile and disgusting as their hearts desire

now. this is what’s especially worrying about his relationship w kyle. we’ve seen time and time again that cartman fosters a genuine distrust and dislike and actively enjoys seeing him fail – specifically if he can be the one to make it happen. this isn’t necessarily what i think, but it’s something i’ve seen suggested and i don’t think it’s outlandish to believe cartman could have some sadistic, pyschosexual fixation on kyle given my previous assertions wrt his views on sex, love, his relationship w heidi – but that’s all it could be. it’s a violent, selfish, purely physical fixation b/c, above all else, cartman is in a constant competition with kyle and it doesn’t end until cartman is utterly bested and brought to his knees or he wins. kyle is his rival, and as that, cartman has an innate responsibility to oppose kyle at every turn and try to bring about his downfall. even if they’re capable of being neutral, or even friendly, those times are few and far, the truce is always broken, and doesn’t come close to just how often cartman delights in seeing kyle victimized by none other than cartman himself. remember humancentipad. remember ginger cow. remember imaginationland – which trey parker has said himself on the commentary that cartman’s obsession with having kyle suck his balls was not out of some secret romantic desire but was an obvious and explicit act of dehumanization and humiliation. not to mention cartman’s racism and anti-semitism, and the endless degradation kyle experiences on a daily basis for being jewish. cartman despises something so innate and so personal and wholly woven into the very essence of who kyle is, it’s beyond me how anyone thinks this is something kyle could see past this or something cartman would want to have anything to do with other than destroy it (which, again, he has tried. lol)

it really, honestly, truly baffles me that anyone thinks cartman 1.) could have positive romantic feelings for kyle or that 2.) cartman and kyle would be capable of having anything other than a strictly unhealthy, malevolent, abusive relationship. and it’s more baffling (and, yes, very worrying) that someone could so blatantly remain oblivious or misconstrue that level of obsession with a genuine romantic partnership

tl;dr: yeah that’s very worrying, cartman is incapable of genuine love, some people are unable to change and he’s one of them, cartman’s desires are always selfish and self-serving in nature, he and kyle would never have a romantic relationship and if they did it would be an absolute unbridled disaster of sadism and victimization, it’s 3:08 a.m and i’m going to bed

#this became much longer than i intended #anyway #goodnight #long post #sorry mobile users lmao

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