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mrsluttystark · 4 years

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Repeat After Me

Tony was growing tired of his life, the never ending routine he’d tied himself down to. Even with a fiancee, a stable job, and a comfortable life, there was hardly a time where he didn’t think about the past to escape the present. He could never have guessed a simple friend request and a pretty Peter Parker would be his undoing as well as his sanctuary. 18+

Part 1 | Part 2

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter hadn’t been on Facebook in years...technically. Maybe every so often just to update his profile picture so people knew he didn’t still look like a 15 year old with a face riddled with baby fat. Sure, he could just delete his account, but he’ll admit he likes knowing what his high school classmates are up to. It was interesting to see how some people he’s known since elementary school turned out now that they were all college graduates. He’s never interacted in those times, just lurked and scrolled for a few minutes before he came across a corny meme or a factually incorrect post that looks like it was screenshotted a million times and had to exit.

He was extra bored tonight, though. Peter tried not to think about how quiet it was now that he lived in his own apartment. Aunt May had moved in with her boyfriend after Peter graduated and landed a job at Oscorp. It came with a starting bonus and a large paycheck that allowed Peter to live comfortably on his own while he worked in the R & D department. A compromise made with Norman Osborn instead of selling him the rights to the web fluid he created in college. Peter wanted to continue to develop it front and center; find every possible application for it. So much so, that he didn’t get to go out much. Ned was in DC at his NASA internship, living out his “guy in a chair” dreams. MJ was somewhere in Asia, backpacking with her girlfriend. The friends he made at Columbia went their separate ways.

So this was his life now. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Alone.

After getting home from work around 6 pm, Peter went for an hour long run, ate dinner, and showered. 8 pm found him sitting on his living room sofa, flipping aimlessly between different streaming services unable to find anything interesting to watch. He went through Instagram, Twitter, and even Tumblr a few times before the last “you’re all caught up!” notification popped up on his phone. So, with a heavy sigh, he propped two pillows against the wall for him to lean on, flopped down on his bed, and opened Facebook.

The first post Peter saw was a life event update from Flash Thompson, his high school nuisance, (“bully” would be giving him too much credit) “In a Relationship with Brad Davis”. Peter huffed out a breath, not really surprised with how much Flash used to tease him about being openly bisexual. Penis Parker. How original.

A memory appeared at the top of his feed from 7 years ago, today. It was a picture of him and Ned when they finished building his Lego Death Star. Peter smiled at that, Ned was holding it above his head with a beaming smile plastered on his face. His younger self had both scrawny arms thrown in the air looking triumphant as ever, curls unruly, and rectangular metal glasses falling halfway down his nose.

Peter was glad he filled out a bit since he was 15 and traded in wearing glasses daily for contacts. His curls were still nice and floppy, the tips of them tickling his ears, but he liked it that way. Plus, he could tame them when he wanted to.

He scrolled for a while longer, watched a few videos of cats being adorable assholes and one-pot recipes, went on Marketplace to see what people in his area were selling. He even went through his old pictures and deleted the incredibly embarrassing ones, and updated his profile picture to his most recent selfie.

This Facebook arc was coming to a quick end, he could feel the boredom seeping back in. He looked to his right, the bright red digital numbers on his clock read 10:05 pm. Good enough. He can turn in for the night without feeling inept.

Thumb poised, ready to swipe the App closed, his eyes caught on a name in the “People You May Know” section. Tony Stark. As in, Mr. Stark, his Sophomore Chemistry teacher. AKA his most inappropriate high school crush. Despite being alone, Peter could feel the tips of his ears heat up.

Wow, he hadn’t thought of Mr. Stark in years.

Alright, that’s not true. Peter thinks about him every time he wonders why he has an affinity for older men. Besides the point, he’s taken back to Midtown, sitting front row, head balanced on his palm watching dreamily as Mr. Stark explained how atoms and molecules join together through ionic and covalent bonding (which Peter already knew, so it was fine that he was zoning out). The man’s voice was like honey, words oozing smooth and sweet, rumbling deeply in his chest. Peter remembers every time he caught his eye while he scanned the room during lectures. Mr. Stark was 30 then, it was his first year teaching, and a 15 year age gap seemed like a canyon.

Peter tapped on his name to go to his profile so he can get a better look at his picture. His heart was racing, despite a few sporadic grey hairs at his temples, some crows feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, and deeper smile lines, he looked the absolute same. Fucking hot. If anything, all those things made him look even sexier. Licking his lips, Peter tried to go through his profile to see more photos of the man, unfortunately he had a lot of his privacy settings on so there wasn’t much to see but his last profile picture update and location. He still lived in New York, so that was a plus, but Peter wanted - needed to see more.

His thumb hovered over the Add Friend button. It wouldn’t be weird, would it? He was Facebook friends with other teachers from Midtown. He graduated over four years ago, and he wasn’t a lovesick kid with a school boy crush anymore. Fuck it, right? The worst he can do is deny the friend request.

Tap.

“Add Friend” turned into “Cancel Request”, and Peter blew out a large breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Alright, Peter. Time to turn in. He said to himself as he threw his phone onto his bed and got up to brush his teeth. No use waiting around, he wasn’t going to accept it tonight or any time soon for that matter. When he got back from the bathroom, he didn’t even bother looking at his phone. He plugged it in, placed it face down on his nightstand, and drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, the man’s phone lit up with a Facebook notification, unbeknownst to a slumbering Peter Parker.

Tony’s daily routine had been rather monotonous lately, to say the least. Since he’d made his way up the proverbial ladder of life and moved on from being a teacher to becoming a senior engineer at a major tech conglomerate, you’d think his day-to-day life of overseeing technical advancement projects wouldn’t be so boring.

The paycheck was substantially bigger than when he was a high school teacher and the amount of technology he had access to was more than the idle body walking the street could ever dream of, but…he missed teaching. He missed the kids. The pure unadulterated joy they displayed whenever Tony praised them on their science projects. He watched over brilliant men and women every day but nothing compared to the ambition of those kids.

Tony often found himself dreading going to work each day, and coming home to an empty house and take-out food his fiancée left for him that night.

Pepper was a great woman. Fierce and reliable. She was there when Tony’s parents died. She even stuck through all the years of Tony trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. So, naturally, Tony proposed to her when he graduated from college. As a “thank you” and as a promise. That once he had enough money he would make an honest woman out of her. Of course, she already was an honest woman. It was Tony who needed the support, she was all he had left besides Rhodey, but he decided to join the Air Force and shipped off right after graduation. Tony sees him every couple of months, if even that.

She has had all these years to focus on her own career as well while Tony worked menial jobs and then became a teacher. When Tony finally got the Mechanical Engineer job, she was so relieved to not have to be the only one taking care of the bills. Though she never said it, Tony knew. Pepper is the head of HR at Oscorp as well as Norman Osborn’s personal assistant. Operating at the same routine for seven years now and she doesn’t seem to be bored, but that’s Pepper - reliable.

It’s been nine years since Tony asked her to marry him, and he’s been financially capable of paying for an adequate wedding for two of them. The truth is, Pepper has become a part of the monotony that Tony is so tired of.

Tony opened the door to their apartment, the main hall light illuminating the dark wood flooring and the entry table he tossed his keys down on. Toeing off his shoes, he could already smell the Thai food Pepper had eaten and left for him. He flipped the lights on and made his way to the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons in the process. Rounding the large white marble island at the center, Tony reached into the bottom cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and poured himself a finger before throwing the left-overs in the microwave to heat up.

A little white card with Pepper’s uniform handwriting sat on the table next to the take-out bag: Emergency at work. Don’t wait up. Love you, Pep x. Tony took a sip of his drink, unaffected, it’s been happening more as of late with Oscorp’s new launch around the corner.

“JARVIS, could ya turn on the TV for me? Oh, and heat up my food.” Tony spoke into the open space. He’d been working on his own Artificial Intelligence software in his spare time and recently implemented it-him into their apartment’s security and electrical. Pepper was wary at first, seeing Tony put up cameras in every single room. Even the bathroom, Tony? He assured her that it was unhackable, bet it on his life.

“Certainly, sir.” A disembodied british voice replied. Sure enough, the TV powered on and the microwave came to life.

“Thanks, J.” Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself. He’d been drawing up the specs for JARVIS since he was in high school, now he finally had the means to develop him.

When the microwave turned off, Tony gathered up his plate and went to sit on the black leather sectional in the living room. Shoveling a mouth full of pad thai with his chopsticks, he kicked up his feet to rest them on the ottoman in front of him. He very well knows he could just pull out his phone and look, but he wanted to give JARVIS a little workout.

“Got anything new for me?”

“An email from Mr. Justin Hammer about a job offer, would you like me to read it aloud to you, sir?” Tony waved his hand dismissively with a sour expression. Justin Hammer, a sad excuse for a tech mogul, cutting corners for a bigger pay off.

“Delete it, will ya?”

As Tony scrapes the rest of his plate clean, he rises off the couch and stretches his arms and body. The pain in his lower back calls for a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles. Earlier today he’d been bent over his lab table working on an advanced prosthesis that can form to any amputee with ease and give them full range of motion like it was theirs, not just a placeholder. He was grateful his employer seemed to actually care about the greater good.

Tony went to pour himself another finger before retreating to the bedroom to take that shower his body was craving. He undressed slowly, watching himself in the full length mirror opposite the foot of his California King bed. The tie went first, falling lightly to the carpeted floor. He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket along with his slacks. Olive skin pulled taut against the small yet defined muscles of his stomach, chest, and arms littered with various burns and scars from working with robotics and chemicals.

Tony definitely wasn’t 21 anymore but he knew he looked good for 37. He could only thank his genes for that and the still full head of hair despite his greying temples that he never bothered to dye.

“JARVIS, shower?” He heard the water splash against the tile of the shower floor and waited until he could see the steam bellow out into the hall to down the rest of his glass and make his way to the bathroom.

The hot spray connecting with his cool skin made him jump a little until he got used to the heat enough to relax. The buzz he was feeling from the scotch aiding the water in loosening his muscles. After washing his hair, Tony decided to stand beneath the spray for a while longer, reveling in the gentle caress of the water.

He then grabbed his mesh loofah ball, poured some body wash on it, and started scrubbing his body. Washing away the trials and tribulations of the day, along with some oil and grease. He worked over his arms, chest, and back. Bent over to wash his legs and feet, then dragged the loofah over his ass and stomach before he lightly grazed his cock, making it twitch in response.

God, he was so wound up, he and Pepper hadn’t had sex in over two months. Always so busy, always just missing each other. When they did happen to be home at the same time, they were too tired to do anything.

He wrapped a soapy hand around his shaft and stroked lazily to work himself to full hardness, which didn’t take very long. Tony tried thinking about Pepper but he couldn’t quite imagine her face and her body, the scotch must be making his mind hazy. He chuckled softly at the thought, not even believing it himself.

Searching through his brain for something to get him there, Tony grunted in annoyance that nothing was coming to him.

He thought harder, until a body started to form in his mind. Smooth pale skin over a lithe, hard body. The V at the bottom of the abdomen pointing to a skinny dick with a pretty pink head. Tony had a fondness toward pretty twinks in college, the one he was imagining mirrored the ones he fucked before he met Pepper.

His hand began stroking faster as his thoughts got more detailed. In his mind, he stretched the young man open with his fingers before seating his newly opened hole on Tony’s larger, thicker cock. He braced himself with one arm against the shower wall while his other hand tightened around his shaft. Hunched over, eyes closed, he saw a pert little ass bouncing up and down, swallowing every inch of him. He moaned loudly, keenly aware that he was home alone, imagining high whimpers and whines thrumming in his ears as the boy in his mind came. Tony came in spurts down the drain soon after with a choked off groan.

Rinsing himself again, he got out of the shower, quickly toweled off his body and hair before wrapping it around his waist and making his way out into the bedroom once again. His body definitely felt looser than it had been when he arrived home from work. Pulling out another of the same bottle of scotch from the small bar cart he had in his room, he poured himself another drink.

“Have a good shower, sir?” If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d think JARVIS was taunting him.

Tony scowled and raised an eyebrow at the ceiling.

“I don’t remember programming you to be nosy.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Actually, sir. You designed me to do exactly that.”

“Or to give me lip.” No response.

“You did receive a new notification in your absence. Would you like to know what it is?” He took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, sure.”

“You received a Facebook friend request from a Mr. Peter Parker.”

Peter Parker? Why did that seem familiar?

“Throw it up on the screen for me, J.” The flatscreen lit up, displaying Peter’s profile.

The first thing Tony noticed was the sharp, angular jawline coupled with high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the delicate chestnut curls pushed back into a nice cowlick wave. His smile was bright, pure, and genuine, like the photo had been snapped right as he finished laughing.

It wasn’t until Tony looked at his eyes did he realize who this was. The soft brown eyes were identical to a lanky teenage boy that sat in the front row of his Chemistry class when he taught at Midtown High. Even behind his wiry glasses back then, Tony could tell that his eyes radiated a wholesome energy - just like they did now. That had been...what? Seven years ago? Peter was one of his most brilliant students. Hardly paid attention in class but knew the material like the back of his hand.

Tony almost felt guilty about finding him attractive. Almost.

He accepted the request without another thought. Peter would be 22 by now, nothing weird about that, right? He scrolled through his basic info. Still lives in New York. Graduated from Columbia. Single. Interested in men and women. He doesn’t ever really post anything, then again neither did Tony. The only things on his page were happy birthday posts and tagged photos from his Aunt May. Tony remembered parent/teacher conferences with her, he guessed being smokin’ hot ran in the family.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about potentially lusting over this kid. He’d always been faithful to Pepper, but something was missing. Tony craved excitement and some inkling of control over his life. Besides, he could look, as long as he didn’t touch. This is just a Facebook friendship after all.

He pulled the Facebook app up on his phone and tapped on the “Message” icon. When the screen pulled up the chat box, Tony gulped down the rest of his scotch, feeling just on the right side of drunk, and typed out two words.

Hey, Kid.

tags: @sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @problemchildnoonewanted (I’ll def be implementing some of your points in future chapters!)

#starker #starker fic #starker au #teacher/student #tony stark x peter parker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #ironspider #sluttystark stuff

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rpgmgames · 4 years

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April’s Featured Game: Nobody's Home

DEVELOPER(S): oates ENGINE: RPG Maker MV GENRE: Survival Horror SUMMARY: After a night of extreme drinking and partying, you wake up in stranger's bed to discover... Nobody's Home.

Buy the game here! Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! *oates: Hi, this is oates! I'm a pixel artist and game developer, I've started making games with rpgmaker in 2016 with VX Ace and now currently using MV for recent projects. Previous projects I've worked on were the FNaF-inspired Souls-like One Night at the Steeze, my first rpgmaker game and it's prequel, the FNaF-inspired roguelike No Delivery. Other games I've worked on include the fangames Day Dreaming Derpy, made in VX Ace and Spike's Day Off, made in MV and the latest in a series of previous fangames previously developed on Adobe Flash.

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *oates: Nobody's Home is largely based on my experiments to find and apply horrific elements in modern situations or phenomena. The scenario being explored here in Nobody's Home is the aftermath of some crazy party. Sound design is especially important when crafting a horror scenario, so I often look to music to draw inspiration. Much of the atmosphere and house design was inspired by music and imagery associated with '70s yacht rock (a sub-genre of soft rock). Another important note is a lot of the general mood and 'weirdness' was inspired by a band I listen a lot to, Dance Gavin Dance, specifically their "deathstar" album. However they have a tendency in all their albums to switch genres mid-song, often going from their post-hardcore sound to funk, pop, and even rap; aside from that, some of the subject matter covered can range from disturbing to unpleasant to nonsensical, but combined with the amazing music, it creates an experience that pulls the listener in all different directions. It got to the point that I was naming events in the game after some their tracks so I had to be careful not to inadvertently make a fangame haha But there are some easter eggs in Nobody's Home that were intentionally left in, and I'm fairly certain players have identified it already.

How long did you work on your project? *oates: I used much of the same framework left over from my previous project No Delivery for this development cycle, so the hassle for setting up asset pipelines was very much mitigated. I started in earnest, making assets back in January this year so it took roughly 2+ months to finish development for this project.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *oates: Aside from the previous music inspirations, I was really intrigued with the way Resident Evil 7's Beginning Hour demo was able to pick up where Konami's cancelled PT left off in terms of survival horror games to look forward to back in 2017. Prior to later updates, the initial demo really only included a few set pieces, basic item interaction, and almost no puzzles from the full game. It was largely able to pull off scaring players from almost atmosphere alone (if you exclude the Jack Baker and ghost encounters). It was later in the full game that it was able to show off it's metroidvania-esque design to its fullest. After my previous project, I wanted to step away from roguelike design for a bit and focus a little more on an exploration-based experience, so I took a few notes from the way RE7 and RE2: Remake handled map design and progression.

Did you come across any challenges during development? How did you overcome or work around them? *oates: I was coming off a severe cold last year and it took most of January for me to recover, so it was a little hard to start full-on development immediately like I normally would on top of other career matters. And looking at events today, it's even more imperative that developers practice healthy habits during development.

Did any aspects of your project change over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *oates: I've had the idea for Nobody's Home as a concept for a while, but filling in those gaps with actual gameplay between centerpieces was a big variable. I went back and forth between the turn-based item combat from the previous project to cutting out combat entirely. While I didn't implement it, I also brainstormed a few concepts for overworld action and combat ala Zelda, but it seemed too complex given the time frame I set for myself. Eventually I settled on a middle ground between full combat and separate encounters, with "enemies" acting as essentially a toll gate. The rest of the game followed suit with various tolls and "mouse traps" for the player to trigger at their own behest. This wasn't necessarily the design I had in mind at first, but it helped to concisely fill a relatively small location with specifically "deadly" content.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *oates: I largely work solo for both development and art, but I do regularly work with a few musicians for an original soundtrack. I first started working with other composers for the fangame Day Dreaming Derpy, where after the initial demo was released, I received emails from a few musicians volunteering to contribute some tracks for the game. In all, the original soundtrack contained 9 tracks in total, with 3 tracks from each composer; each of them doing an amazing job and, in my opinion brought the project back then to a higher degree of quality. This was how I met some of the composers I still work with today and they all have some really great work! TheNGVirus @NGVirusNG1 Kaminakat @thekaminakat dRedder @HornyGremlin

What is the best part of developing a game? *oates: It's a toss up between the initial brainstorming/research and the first run-through when you have your desired maps linked together. For the brainstorming, it's pretty fun to learn about subject matter you want to do justice to as well as stretching your creative muscles for the first time in service to a certain concept. However this obviously wears off when you devote too much time to a particular concept, but it's still enjoyable nevertheless. For making that run-through, it doesn't necessarily mean to have all the events implemented, but to experience your game the way players will experience it for the first time does give a sense of completion/cohesion to what you, as a developer, are trying to accomplish. It essentially puts what you're working on into a different perspective for you.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *oates: I do keep an eye out for what other rpgmaker projects are doing, and to see what others can do with the engine helps get the creative juices flowing; it's also fun to try to mentally reverse engineer how certain mechanics or effects were made. And it's always great to see fellow devs showcase what's possible with the engine.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *oates: Nobody's Home has a relatively small cast of characters, whom you do interact with but never see, this is largely to done to create a sense of "un-relatability", but if I had to pick a character, it'd be "car guy", the guy you find stuck in the car. They have a good line, " ...there'd be a good reason for this, but there isn't..." Story of my life.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *oates: There were a few areas I would have liked to expand on or add, specifically- the attic + roof, the front lawn, behind the walls, and an entire second floor. Unfortunately that meant potentially adding more questlines and NPCs while the first set of questlines were pretty interwoven so it would have been way more complex, also again, given the time frame I set, it would have extended the development cycle way beyond what I had time for. But if I had implemented those extra areas, the game's length would also go way beyond the 30 min - 1 hr it takes to complete the game as it is now.

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *oates: I'd like to do both really, each installment of the VCRPG line of games is definitely a stand-alone story, or an isolated incident, but I would love to explore the aftermath of the game's events and how the passage of time ravages and twists the story into urban legend. I like to treat places and environments like characters as well, capable of making memories, being misunderstood, preserved, destroyed, and ultimately capable of change.

What do you most look forward to upon finishing the game? *oates: Both the fan reaction and free time honestly speaking. Once the development cycle finishes and the game is published, your work isn't really finished as there's always a chance someone's feedback can apply to immediate changes or patches you can implement, even during the release period. Marketing is also another large step to take into consideration after release, this includes tweeting, sending keys for lets plays, etc. Watching playthroughs is also a really good way to collect data on what parts of your design fall through and what fail to land. But after all that is said and done, some free time really helps the brain recuperate.

Was there something you were afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *oates: Just whether or not I handled the game's subject matter tastefully. Like horror cinema, everything done is in service the the themes and message of the piece as a whole.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *oates: The game engine is essentially a tool, and like any tool you can find plenty of creative ways to get the same result. And don't be afraid to research whatever it is you need help with, it also helps to be specific with what you want.

Question from last month's featured dev @moca-pz: If you can collaborate with any game developer in the world, who would it be? What would be their role(s) and what would be your role(s)? *oates: Game developer I'd like to work with: Hidetaka Miyazaki His role: Story Lead and Director My role: Drinking buddy Game we're working on: SciFi Souls

We mods would like to thank oates for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Nobody's Home if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpg maker #nobody's home (game)#nobodys home #nobody's home #game #rpgmaker horror #pixel horror #horror game #indie game #gotm #game of the month #oates #gotm 2020 #2020 #april #april 2020

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thedc-verse · 4 years

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Spreading The Love (Harrison “Harry” Wells x Reader x HR Wells)

Summary HR, Reader and Harry wake up in the same bed.

Warning: F-Bomb, implied sex, swearing, talk about sex

Note: Found some old request that I thought I had posted. Sorry it's taking me 500 years. Shits happened. Also I'm considering writting for Supergirl and Batwoman. I know I've been mostly flash and DC Lot but I'm finally expanding... Slowly.... I'm sorry... I wish I was more active. I genuinely do. 💔.

________

You're not sure how it happened but you, Harry, and HR had woken up in the same bed. Your bed. You would have never known the two men were laying next to you in your queen-sized bed had it not been for the loud crack of thunder that awoke you that morning. The rumble was explosive, setting off car alarms all down the streets of Central City. The thunder waking you with a jolt, you sat straight up momentarily confused by your abrupt consciousness. When you fully grasped at what happened you heard a small yet clear groan from the floor, you had managed to knock Harry out of bed. Not a moment later HR stirred. "Harry?" You asked confusedly. "Why are you in my house?" He sat up still on the floor, he looked past you at a sleepy HR. "HR?" He asked now even more confused. You raised a brow and followed his line of sight. Your eyes widened at the shirtless HR. "What the f-" Lightning truck the ground outside your window. With the momentary burst of light, you noticed the rest of HR was just as bare.

Quickly turning away from him you look at Harry, also naked and exposed you averted your gaze. Quickly you clutched your sheets to your chest but it was no use. Your chest had been exposed far too long to leave anything to the imagination. The three of you sat for a moment, no one spoke or looked at each other. You panicked, trying to recall any of last night, but it was as if last night hadn't occurred. As if you all had the same idea at once, which you most likely did, you all stood up ignoring each other and start searching for your clothes. The awkwardness was unbearable.

“How did this happen?” Harry grunted as he grabbed his pants and slipped his right leg in them. You tried to turn on the lamp but nothing came on. The electricity must have gone out. You couldn't see well and you didn't want to walk across the room to get new clothes while naked.

Moonlight shining threw your bedroom window was the only source of light. You finally found your shirt on the floor. It was almost completely under the bed. “Psst.” HR whispered. "Hey," He whispered a little louder to get Harry’s attention from the other side of the bed. He had put on his shirt and scarf and now held up a pair of pants in his right hand. “Harry.” He whispered again. “What!” Harry snapped breaking the trend of whispering. “Those are my pants.” He pointed to Harry who had the jeans halfway up his legs. “What?” Harry paused his movements. “These are yours.” HR raised his hand that held the pants. "Harry well that makes sense. I knew these were too tight." Harry glanced down at his legs contemplating if he should take off the skinny jeans. “. . . Fuck it.” He shrugged pulling the jeans up to his waist. His double watched slightly surprised, after all, Harry did hate skinny jeans. Once Harry zipped up the pants HR shrugged putting on the more breathable pants.

”What happened to your face?” Harry asked finally looking at him. “What happened to yours?” HR retorted seeing the black around his eye. You pulled your shirt over your head before reaching further under your bed and blindly slapping your hand around until you felt a familiar plastic handle. You smiled to yourself pulling out your camping lantern and turning it on, your loft glowed insignificantly brighter. You frowned slightly remembering it was brighter during the last blackout.

“What the hell happened?” Harry whisper-yelled at HR. “Me? What makes you think I know?” Hr placed a hand over his chest defensively. “Because whenever something goes wrong it's usually your fault!” Harry argued, to this HR rolled his eyes, shifting so his back faced Harry. 'They act more like brothers then doppelgangers.' You thought with a sigh as you grabbed your pants. The two men bickered as you put on your pants. You were getting a headache from all this chaos. You rubbed your temples as you walked downstairs. “This is ridiculous, Harry. I did nothing wrong.” You heard HR protesting voice fade as you made your way down the steps.

'No, what’s ridiculous is waking up in bed with two men, or was it one? Same man different bodies. . . I need an aspirin.' Walking into the kitchen section and opening the fridge you grab a water bottle. As you opened the medicine cabinet you made a mental note to reorganize it. "What a mess." You grumbled finally finding the aspirin. You heard quick footsteps come down the stairs as you swallowed the capsule. You glanced at the clock on your stove curiously. The clock was blacked out. "Great..."

“So I’m guessing you don’t remember last night either?” HR asked entering the kitchen. “Not really... All I know is that the three of us must have had sex . . .” You squinted at them not liking how that sounded. Nor sure if that was the best way to word it. "I mean doppelgangers are technically the same person... so was it actually a three-way?" Harry averted his gaze to stare at the floor, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Well yes and no..." He trailed off. You handed placed both the aspirin bottle and your water on the countertop for them to use. HR wasted no time grabbing the medication and taking two tablets. He tried to hand the bottle to Harry but he pushed it away annoyed. “Gross. I’m not drinking after you.” He spat. You patted his shoulder tiredly. “No telling what you did last night. Just drink it.” You said heading to the couch. HR offered then now disturbed Harry the drink again. Harry glared at HR while he ripped the bottle from his hand harshly. He rolled his eyes as he drank from the bottle. After he finished his drink he opened the front door and left. HR grabbed his hat and followed after him.

________

You were running late. You overslept big time. 'I knew I shouldn't have tried to squeeze in a nap. I rest everything but the alarm clock. Smooth.' You scolded yourself. As you stepped onto the elevator your phone pinged.

New Message from Cisco: WHERE ARE YOU!!!!

"Oh great." You muttered hitting your floor on the elevator. You glanced at the clock as you typed a response back. 'Holy shit. 8:40. I'm two hours and forty minutes late. That's almost three hours! Three! That's way too many. Can I get fired? But I love this job! My friends wouldn't fire me, right? Barry is kind of too nice and a push over...No, of course, they wouldn't fire you. Just calm down. You're only freaking out because of what maybe-no-definitely happened last night...' You stepped off the elevator and headed to the Cortex.

As walked in you were greeted by Cisco. “Hey, Y/N," He said smiling cheerily as he slings an arm around your shoulder. "Let’s threesome this afternoon.” You stopped walking. “I’m sorry, what?” Barry, Caitlin, Harry, and HR turned around curiously. In doing so you could now fully see Harry's deep black eye and HR's bandaged up nose. “Let’s do something this afternoon?” Cisco repeated confusedly, his voice going high pitched as he let go of you. “Oh, No thanks I can barely stand.” You said walking to your desk. You placed your work files and laptop on the desk. “Why can you barely stand?” He asked rather loudly. You paused again, internally swearing, you glanced at the doubles before turning around to face the others fully.

HR suffocated on his coffee gasping for air at Cisco's words. Harry squinted questioningly at HR not sure why he had suddenly inhaled if favorite beverage. You saw the connection click in his eyes as they both turned to you. “How come I what?” You raised a brow, playing dumb. This time Barry spoke up. “You said you can barely stand. Why?” You glanced from Barry to Cisco to Barry. The speedster made a face as if asking, 'Are you gonna tell us?’ as he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, I said I can barely stand... today. As in if I’m this tired now, how would I have any energy to do anything tonight. I'll tell you how." You pointed at them. "I won't. I’ll be dead asleep.” You laughed awkwardly. "Anyways we need to make up for the lost time. Barry, hurry up." You attempted to change the topic smoothly, but when Cisco opened his mouth to question you, you grabbed Barry's hand and dragged him out of the room.

You just wanted the day to be over and you would like as little questioning as possible. Even if you wanted to answer, which you didn't, you couldn't remember anything anyway. For all, you know the three of you decided the room was too hot, took off your clothes, and then passed out drunk. Maybe nothing happened and this would make for a funny story later. You think back to this morning. After the doppelgangers left without a word you sat on the couch for an hour trying to make any sense of the situation. Part of you wished you'd just stayed asleep, you'd have never known anything happened and life would be fine.

Once you had entered the speed lab Barry couldn't help but ask, “What was that about?” You glared at him as you took your position behind the monitor. “Just run.” He raised a brow curiously but did as he was told. While Barry was running you tried to focus on his speed but your mind kept drifting off. A few laps into the test you started to remember bits of last night. It flashed through your head so fast and on loop until the fragments made a story of what had actually happened the night before.

HR had shown up at the bar where yourself, Caitlin, and Cisco were drinking. He must have a bunch of coffee because he was talking way to fast to understand what he was saying. You honestly couldn't remember a word he said. You vaguely remember ordering a drink before Harry showed up. His hair was ruffled as if he'd been running, his cheeks were red and he was out of breath. His chest puffed in and out clearly taking deep breaths as he scanned the bar rapidly. He looked determined. His eyes met yours and then suddenly the three of you were at your loft. 'HR was kissing me or was it, Harry? . . . It was HR. He was wearing a scarf.' The three of you managed to get up the stairs without falling, 'I was laying on my bed and... HR and Harry got into a fight? What were they saying? Leave? Just tell her?' Tell me what?' HR pushed Harry onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. They wrestled, Harry got on top for a brief second before HR flipped them over... 'Kind of looks like they were... oh god! Wait-! Where did Harry’s shirt go? Where are my pants? Harry’s pulling me to him...HR’s taking off his shirt behind Harry.

“/N. Y/N!” Barry yelled as he walked out of the track. “Are sure you're ok?" He asked. “I’m fine.” You huffed. You might not remember what happened after that but your body did. It was reacting in ways not safe for work. You crossed your legs instinctively.

________

It was now the end of the day and you had to work up the courage to get the work you left in the Cortex, which is where both HR and Harry would most likely be. When you walked in you were alone, the cortex being completely empty was rare so a quick beeline for your desk was suitable. No one around to question why you're in a hurry and you didn't want to waste this opportunity. HR popped out of nowhere, you flinched in surprise at his bright smiling appearance. Which at this point shouldn't be a surprise, showing up out of nowhere was his thing. “I remember.” His smile grew. “What?" Both you and Harry blurted. Jumping again at the sound of another voice entering the conversation. Your face flushed embarrassed your not a jumpy person but clearly, you were more on edge than you thought.

“You told me you didn’t remember,” Harry growled as he approached you both. “Well when you asked me if I remembered, I thought about it and it started coming back to me. I don’t see what the big deal is you almost died when you got your memory back. Muttering “I’d never do that.” and then you glared at me.” He shrugged. Your head snapped to Harry. “You remember? How much?”

“You say that like you want to know.” Harry scoffed turning to leave. “I remember how you got your black eye and how HR broke his nose.” You smirked crossing your arms over your chest. "How did either of you explain that to the others?" Harry turned to face you. His mouth opened but HR cut in. “And what happened next was quite a sight-” “Don’t!” Harry's voice cracked as held up a hand to his doubles mouth. “Oh, so you remember that too?” HR smirked, 'Since when did he smirk?'

“I’d rather not,” Harry grumbled as he stared at the floor. “So where does this leave us?” You asked. “What do you mean?” They asked in unison. “Aren’t we gonna piece the night back together, figure out what lead to this?” Harry glimpsed at the entrance. “It was a one night stand.” Harry deadpanned. "A one time mistake." He stated firmly before brushing past you.

You watched him leave.

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vernonluver · 5 years

Text

24 hrs - wong lucas

prompt- 24 hours with your secret boyfriend wong lucas

word count- 1.9k

note- omg im posting hehe uhh theres no warnings in this besides so angst and theres literally no talking in this my bad homes

5:00am

It happens almost every morning, you get a text from your boyfriend telling you good morning and how much he loves you. That he knows you’re asleep but somehow someway you’ll wake up from your deep sleep to text him back before his recordings start. You’ve been with Lucas for a year and for that year the only two people who know of the relationship are you two, and you’ve made it work. The sneaking around gets old and sometimes you feel like he forgets you exist, but he doesn’t, it’s quite the opposite actually. You’re always on his mind, when he’s surrounded by camera crews and his band mates the only person he can’t seem to forget is you. When these thoughts get too much the text at five in morning always comes and you feel the love from him pour through his words.

“Good morning my love, today the guys and I are filming for a variety show that I don’t know much about, hopefully that doesn’t bite me in the as haha. I love you so much and I hope your morning is wonderful despite classes. Text me when you wake up, I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you tonight. <333333”

7:00am

Your alarm never fails to leave you agitated, the shrill sound pissed you off beyond belief but you know that you have to make your eight am because if you miss another class your professor would kill you. You look at your phone to see Lucas’ text to you, a smile finding its way onto your tired face, he never failed to make you smile like a dummy. He was the love of your life and you couldn’t wait for the day you could tell the world. He made the gloomy days so much brighter with his loud laugh and contagious smile. You sent him a text back telling him about your plans for the day that you hoped his filming goes well and that you love him too. You drag yourself out of bed, your feet feeling a little lighter now that you’ve talked to your boyfriend, your eight am was waiting for you and who were you to keep intro to psych waiting?

9:30am

Your first class of the day was over and you had an hour and a half to kill before heading to your second and final class of the day. You decide that feeding yourself would be best and you head to the cafe that had the muffins you loved so much. After a long day for Lucas you brought him a muffin from the cafe that sits on the edge of campus, it was a chocolate one, that was probably the happiest you had seen Lucas in weeks. The muffin brought him so much joy you couldn’t help but buy one for yourself along with a coffee, you ate the food with a smile on your face.

12:30pm

Your class had finished for the day and now it was time to go have lunch with your friends, you were very lucky to have them. When you couldn’t see Lucas they always cheered you up, and they loved to go and eat lunch. They’re loud laughs always made your cheeks hurt from smiling so big. Half way through talking about due dates and horrible teachers your back pocket buzzes meaning you got a text. When you saw Baby<3 pop up on your screen you tried your best to hide the smile that was fighting to take over your face.

“I hope your classes went well today my baby, there is only a few more hours left of shooting and then I’ll be able to head to yours and give you all the hugs and kisses I want hehe. I love you, have fun with your friends!”

He was so sweet, so sweet it almost hurt you. Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve him, that he was too good and too pure. These thoughts didn’t have time to take over before one of your friends called you out for smiling at your phone, an eyebrow raised as if asking who is it that is making you blush. You hope the excuse of a picture of your dog from home will trick them once again.

2:30pm

You smile at your coworkers and greet customers as you walk into the small coffee shop you work in, It wasn’t the best place to work and the pay kind of sucked but it payed the bills, and that is all you could ask for. The four hour shift felt like it could last for forever when you know that Lucas would be at your house in just a few hours, he just couldn’t seem to leave you alone today. He invaded very thought you had, you wondered if he would like the new drink your cafe had been promoting, or what he would think of the things you’re learning in class. He followed you around like a shadow but without actually being there. Lucas had you so sidetracked today that you accidentally called out his name instead of a customers, you were so embarrassed you couldn’t look the guy in for the rest of the time he was in the cafe.

6:30

You leave the cafe smelling like coffee beans and sugar, the smell almost too sweet. You were so excited to see Lucas you almost forgot you needed to pick up dinner for the both of you. Thai food, you loved it and he couldn’t seem to eat enough of it. The wait wasn’t long and soon you were on your way to you apartment and texting Lucas that you were off work and picked up food. He texted back a few minutes later saying that he had just gotten back to the dorms and to give him another hour to sneak off. You smiled at the text and sent him back some hearts. Before you knew it you were at your apartment.

7:00pm

Once you’re home and the food is in the microwave to stay warm you hop in the shower to get the smell of coffee off of you. You text Xuxi that you’re home, that the front door is open, and that your roommate isn’t home. The shower doesn’t last very long and soon you’re changing into shorts and one of Lucas’ shirts, somehow it still smells like him even after being in your house for so long. You see a text from Lucas ten minutes ago saying that he’s about twenty minutes away. You put some night cream on and try and dry your hair as much as you could.

7:25pm

You heard the door open and shut and then foot steps sounded into the kitchen where you stood. You turn around and a huge smile took residence on your face. Lucas was covered in black from head to toe, even a mask adorned his face. Your legs moved before your mind and soon you had your arms around his neck and you were pressing kisses everywhere his mask wasn’t. His laugh flooded the apartment and his hands pulled down the mask and he pulled you closer to him so he could finally kiss you. His lips were soft, as they always were, and his grip was tight on your waist. It had been a few weeks since you last saw each other, and the desperation in your kisses and touches expressed that wanting for the both of you. Soon you both break away, breathless but the hunger you both felt was over powering. You both sat down, the thai food in your laps and you both talked about your days. Lucas told you about all the dumb ass games the host made all the boys play and you told him about the ridiculous amount of homework your psych professor assigned you. Every so often between bites he would lean over and kiss you, once, twice, maybe three times just to hear you laugh and feel you on him. You ached to have this every day, not just once every few weeks when he could seek out of the dorms. You had to wait, and you understood that, but it didn’t make it any less painful.

8:00pm

You told Lucas to go shower and take his makeup off, you knew he couldn’t be comfortable in his skin tight clothing that the stylist always put him in. While he showered you cleaned up the kitchen and tried your hardest to push away the sadness that was slowly filling your chest. You didn’t want him to leave, you wanted him to always be with you and stay in your arms, no matter how selfish it was. He is you baby and you never wanted to let him go. When he got out of the shower, now in clothes that he kept at yours just in case, you laid in bed. His chest was against yours and his head was in the crook of your neck. You could feel his breathing matching up every time you ran your fingers through his dark hair.

9:30pm

You two decided that you wanted to watch We Bare Bears. You find comfort in the show, and he found it funny. He found ice bear super funny, you swear you had never seen him laugh as hard as he did when Ice Bears drone got smashed by the subway. His laugh sounded like music to your ears. Lucas kept kissing you, leaving small pecks all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He never wanted to leave your side.

10:30pm

You’re both tired, but neither of you want to sleep. You don’t want to leave his arms and he would rather never have another shooting if it meant he got to spend the rest of his time like this. How he was able to spend the night with you, you didn’t know, but you didn’t question. After the TV was turned off and you two felt sleep creeping up on you, you realized you didn’t know the next time you would see him. You decided not to focus on that but on the fact that the love of your life was in your arms. You focused on his breath hitting the side of your face and how the sleepier he got the more his hands would twitch indicating that he was getting closer to sleep. You kissed his cheek and told him you loved him, he groaned in response but you knew what he meant.

5:00am

You woke up to Lucas pulling the covers over your shoulders and him kissing you on the top of your head. When he saw your eyes open he smiled down at you, telling you to go back to bed and that he would text you later and to enjoy your day. You smiled up at him and let out a raspy “I love you”, he giggled and told you he loved you too. He left the room after many more kisses and you closed your eyes, trying to get a few more hours of sleep before your classes for the day start. You’re almost asleep when you hear your phone go off. You roll over and beam at your phone seeing a text from Xuxi.

“I know I just left you but I wanted to tell you how much I love you again, thank you for staying with me when I know this situation is hard, only a few more months before we can tell the world about our love. Have an amazing day at uni and pls don’t forget to eat and do your homework. I’ll talk to you later my baby, I love you<3333”

#nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct fluff #wayv #wayv fluff #lucas #wong lucas #wong yukhei #xuxi #lucas fluff #lucas x reader

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nightaekookie · 5 years

Text

BTS Reaction » When you meet them for the first time.

Authors note » Aaah this is my first reaction ever (it was not requested but my request are open!) and i’m kinda new to the fandom and I am trying something new! (Pls give me feedback or something) Just wanna let you know english is not my first language so I’m sorry for grammar mistakes or something! Please let me know what you think? Credit goes to the rightful gif owners :)

Kim Seokjin » Your parents are coming over for dinner last minute so you are stressing out because today normally was your day to eat take out so hadn’t done any groceries and your fridge was empty. So now you have to go grocery shopping but you still don’t know what you want to cook for your parents. You hoped walking in the store would give you some ideas. You grab your keys from the kitchen counter and walk to the store. After a while you decide you are going to cook spaghetti, it was easy and delicious. So now you are walking around the store trying to find the right ingredients. You are so focused on finding the right ingredients you don’t notice the tall stranger standing in the same aisle, doing the exact same thing. You bite your lip while reading something on the back of the tomato sauce package you are holding. You feel something or someone bump into you. You let out a shriek and you drop the tomato sauce package on the ground. The tomato sauce package pops open and there is sauce everywhere “Oh god I-I’m so sorry” you hear a voice apologize. You look in the direction where the voice came from. You make eye contact with the most beautiful man you have ever seen and for a minute you forget how to talk, you realize you’re staring at the man and you start to blush “uhm it’s okay, I’m fine” you smile softly at the man standing in front of you. You realize the sauce is everywhere “oh shoot, look at the mess I made” you mumble shy. The man laughs “well I kind of helped you make that mess didn’t I? Again I am so sorry” he apologizes again “it’s fine” you reassure him with a soft smile “But I probably should find someone and tell them about the mess we made” you laugh “You probably should, but maybe I should join you? Because after all i helped you create this mess ” he smiles cheekily “Uh yeah, sure...” you wait for him to tell you his name “I’m Seokjin” he introduces himself, a beautiful name for a beautiful man “I’m y/n, nice to meet you” you smile. After telling a staffmember about the mess you two made, Seokjin helped you find the right ingredients for the spaghetti, he even gave you some tips on how to make the spaghetti even more delicious.

Min Yoongi » It’s two am, you just finished studying for your midterms. You totally lost track of time while studying and you forgot to eat so you were hungry for some good food, luckily the store near campus is open 24 hrs a day. You walk into the store causing a bell to ring. The man sitting behind the counter looks up from his phone and frowns, he probably isn’t used to people shopping this late. You smile sofly to the man and you make your way to the right aisle. Yoongi needed the money, that’s why he took this stupid boring job, he only worked night shifts. He didn’t mind the night shifts to be honest because there were fewer people doing their groceries and that meant fewer social encounters. He frowned when he saw you walking in the store at this time. He studies your features, you look tired, your hair is in a messy bun and you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. But he still thought you looked beautiful. You noticted the boy staring at you and you start to blush, grabbing the things you need quickly. You walk to the counter to pay the stuff. “Rough evening, huh?” the man asks. You look up and you make eye contact with the man. You only realize now how beautiful the man in front of you is. “Uh... I- I’ve been studying for my midterms” you tell the man and he nods “must be stressing you out?” you only nod, being to tired to have a normal conversation. “I’m Yoongi” introduces the man himself “oh uhm my name is y/n” you say, still not breaking eye contact with Yoongi. He shows you the most adorable gummy smile you have ever seen and you can’t help but smile back at him. “I get off in a few hours, do you maybe wanna grab a cup of coffee after my shift ends?” He asks and you nod “I’d like that”

Jung Hoseok » Today was another stressful day at work, your boss keeps yelling at you and pointing out all the things you are doing wrong and it was making you feel nauseous and you were one the verge of crying so you were in desperate need of a break. So when your boss told you to get her a coffee, from the coffee shop she loved so much, you obliged happily. A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you walk out of the building. You start walking towards the coffee shop thinking about how your boss was behaving towards you, you don’t really see what you are doing wrong, you do everything she ask from you and still it’s not enough. You reach the coffee shop and you wait in line to make your order. You are focused on your phone when a loud laugh fills your ears, you look around the shop to see where the sound comes from. You focus on a group of young men sitting in the back of the coffee shop, one man draws your attention, he is smiling bright and he actually looks like a ray of sunshine. You didn’t notice you were staring at the man until you make eye contact, you quickly look away from him and focus back on your phone. You don’t look up from your phone until you order the coffee for your boss. After ordering the coffee you wait patiently, still focusing on your phone. Your name is called and you walk up to the counter to pick up your order. When you turn around to go back to work you bump into someone and you spill all the hot coffee on the ground. A small scream leaves your mouth and you look at the mess on the ground “Oh god, I am so so sorry! Are you okay? Here let me help you” you look up to see the boy you made eye contact with earlier. The boy keeps rambling and apologizing and you just look at him. Tears are forming in your eyes and as soon as he notices he feels even more guilty “oh god please don’t cry” he begs “it’s not your fault, I’m just having a really bad day” you mumble. He whipes your tears away “I’m sorry to hear that, let me make it up to you and buy you a new coffee” he offers and you smile “thank you, that is very sweet of you” you smile weakly “don’t worry about it, it’s the least I can do for you” he smiles brightly “you have a cute smile” you didn’t even realize the words leaving your mouth “oh god I am sorry” you apologize ashamed “well...” “y/n” you say “well y/n I think you look really cute” you blush smiling at the man “I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi” he introduces himself with a wink.

Kim Namjoon » You were in desperate need of a new book to read. All the books you owned were old and most of them you already read twice or more. You walk in to your local bookstore, you greet the woman behind the counter, she just smiles at you. You walk to the aisle where they keep the crime/thriller books, your favourite genre. You notice a tall man standing in the same aisle but you don’t really pay much attention to him. You are focused on reading the back of a book that seems interesting when you hear a loud noise followed by a curse. You look to your right to see what happened. One of the bookshelves broke down and all the books that were standing on that shelf fell down. The man looks embarrassed as he starts picking up the books that lay on the floor, you decide to help the man. You kneel beside the man and you start picking up different books “thank you” says the handsome stranger, you just smile at him. You want to pick up the last book but so does the man, so instead of the book you touch his fingers, he quickly moves his hand away and you pick up the last remaining book. You get up again but so does the man, causing your heads to bump into each other and a painful growl leaves your mouth. “Oh god I am so sorry” he apologizes quickly “it’s okay, I’m fine. Are you okay?” You ask the man. He nods “I am, I just get so clumsy sometimes” he explains with a shy smile “Yeah I noticed” you giggle. “I’m y/n” you introduce yourself “I’m Namjoon” he smiles. “Maybe I could buy you dinner? To apologize for my clumsy behaviour” he ask nervously. “I told you I’m fine, but how can I say no to you buying me dinner” you say cheekily and Namjoon laughs.

Park Jimin » It is two o’clock in the morning and you are still practicing your dance choreography. You are getting more and more frustrated by the second. There is this particular dance move and you just couldn’t get the hang of it. It’s making you want to cry. After many attempts and many failures you decide you need to take a break. You lay down on the ground and a frustrated sigh leaves your mouth and you close your eyes for just a few seconds. A few seconds turn into fifteen minutes but a loud noise wakes you up, you look around but you there is no one here. You stand up again and you start practicing again. You are so focused on getting the choreography right you don’t even notice the tears coming out of your eyes. After your fifth attempt and also your fifth failure you just let out a loud scream and you start crying. You look in the big mirror in front of you and you stop crying when you notice someone standing in the doorway, you quickly turn around and he smiles at you. “Please leave me alone” you mumble to the stranger “I heard you scream and I just wanted to check if you are okay” he tells you shyly “well I’m fucking great, can’t you see?” You snap at him, you start dancing again hoping that the man takes a hint and leaves but he doesn’t and it makes you even more frustrated. You make a mistake but this time you trip over your own feet and you fall to the ground. The man that was standing in the doorway was now sitting beside you “Oh god, are you okay?” He asks worried “no, I am not okay” you cry. The man kind of looks uncomfortable and he really doesn’t know what to do so he just pats your back. “You dont have to comfort me” you mumble wiping away your own tears. “I’m sorry for being rude, I’m just really stressed because this one part of the choreography is really hard and I just can’t get the hang of it and it’s so frustrating. I’ve been practicing all day” you explain to him “you don’t have to apologize, I totally understand how frustrating it must be” he smiles “how would you know?” You ask with a frown “I’m also a dancer, why don’t you show me the choreography and maybe I can help you?” He offers with a soft smile which makes you blush “I’d like that” “I’m jimin by the way” he introduces himself “my name is y/n” you tell Jimin. You show Jimin the dance and he actually has some very useful tips that really help you master the dance. It’s morning when you two are finally done and you both exchange phone numbers because you quite enjoyed his company.

Kim Taehyung » You were enjoying yourself with some beautiful art in a local museum near your house. It was you day of and you were feeling really stressed because of work and just looking at art made you feel relaxed. You stand in front of your favourite piece just taking every detail in. You decide to sit down and enjoy the painting. You notice someone sitting down next to you. You don’t bother looking up because you are to focused on the painting in front of you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” A husky voice ask, you look up and you look in the direction where the voice came from, it’s the person sitting next to you. “yes it is, it’s my favourite painting in this museum actually” you tell the stranger. “It makes me feel relaxed, I can look at it for ages and every time i look at the painting I discover a new detail, pretty amazing to be honest” you explain smiling at the man, he nods in agreement. “Do you have a favourite painter?” He ask curiously and you nod “I really like Monet but Van Gogh is also pretty good” “I totally agree, so you’re a pretty big fan of art?” He asks “yes but not just paintings, I like all kinds of art, music, poetry and photography” you tell him shyly noticing how beautiful the man sitting next to you actually is. He just looks like a piece of art, and you can’t stop staring at him. Luckily he doesn’t notice it because he is looking at the painting but you think the man next to you is way more interesting than that painting hanging on the wall. “You shouldn’t be staring that much it’s rude” the man smiles cheekily and you feel your cheeks turn red “I-I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself” you blush “it’s okay, I’ve been staring at you for like ten minutes before I had the courage to sit next to you” he confesses. “Oh really?” You ask raising an eyebrow “my name is y/n” “nice to meet you y/n, my name is Taehyung” he introduces himself with a boxy smile, the most beautiful smile you have ever seen and it makes you want to squeeze his cheeks. “Is it okay if I take you out for some coffee, or something?” He ask nervously “I’d love that” you smile

Jeon Jungkook » You were bored so you decided you might as well log back into your old gaming account, due your busy work schedule you barely had time to game and you kind of missed it. You had finished all your work so you had finally time to pick up where you left. You start up Overwatch, getting pretty excited to start playing again. Once the game is loaded you start gaming and it feels like you never left. After the game is finished you get an invite from someone to play again, you frown but accept. Obviously you keep beating his ass and your not even sorry, you are enjoying this way to much. After a few hours you decide it’s been enough, you’re about to close the game when you receive a direct message from the person who keeps inviting you to play again. To curious to wait, you open the message and read it. “Hey there, you are really good! Do you might wanna game while talking over headset? If you don’t mind of course :)” you reply that you don’t mind. You search for your headset and you connect it with your computer. Your connection is really crappy and it takes a while but after a few minutes you hear a manly voice coming through your headset. “Hey there” you greet the man. It stays quiet for a while, you frown for a second but you keep your attention focused on the game. “Hello? Are you still there?” You ask a bit annoyed “U-Uh yes I’m still here” the man replies softly. “Are you alright?” You ask the man. “Yes I am, I just didn’t realize you were a girl” you roll your eyes “Is that a problem for you?” “No! It’s not” he yells “I-I was just debating with myself whether i’m disappointed that i got by ass kicked by a girl or if I’m really turned on because of how good you are” you roll your eyes but you can’t help but giggle “well I see both options as an compliment, so thank you. And I really hope you’re not an old pervert” you smile. “No I’m not old, and I’m Jungkook by the way” “I’m Y/n” you introduce yourself “well Jungkook get ready to get your ass kicked again” you giggle “I was going to be soft on you, but now get ready to get your ass kicked” he threatens “pffft, I’ve been kicking your ass almost every game, are you sure you’re not gonna cry?” You tease him. After beating him in many more games, you still keep in touch and after a while you both decided it’s time you two meet in real life, and you couldn’t be more nervous because you had no idea what he looked like, you only know him by his voice. You decided to meet up in a local coffee shop. So now fifteen minutes early you are waiting for him. After a while you see someone walking into the coffee shop, he looks nervous and he keeps looking around, after a while you make eye contact and you smile, his eyes grow wide and you blush. He slowly walks towards you. “Y/n?” He asks when he stops in front of you, you can only nod because you are captivated by his beauty, you can’t stop staring at him. “It’s really nice to meet you” he smiles shyly. You nod and stand up to give him a hug. “It really is” you agree with a big smile.

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alpacannot · 5 years

Text

So, I’m finally getting around to rewriting my Reaper Saga books, with the newly renamed “Reaper”. The past, like, four times I’ve tried to rewrite this book, I’ve always stuck with the same general opening chapter, introducing Tris, her work, and the other characters fairly quickly, allowing them to talk about themselves. This time, I’ve tried for a slightly different approach, which I like more. It took me forever to write it though, partly because I’m rusty (I haven’t written anything fiction related since 2016) and partly because I just wanted to skip to the good stuff. It was tempting to just copy in the original prologue, but I’m super pleased with how this new first chapter is starting. It’s not done, and I haven’t proofed it yet, but I was so excited that I just had to share it. So, without further ado, here’s the first, unedited bit of “Reaper” chapter 1:

“Tristan Sieghard—for crimes against humanity and for exposing the Afterlife, we, the Highers and the Gatekeeper, sentence you to death and eternal damnation in the deepest pits of Hell.” The Highest’s voice echoed throughout the assembly hall as several Runners drug her away from the crowd gathered inside the seemingly far-too-small room. Alex avoided her gaze, his brows pinching together. She wanted to shout out, “You could have stopped this!”, but she knew that she had chosen this. It was her neglect that ultimately caused her downfall. But, at least she was brave enough to act, to seek out justice for their daughter. He was by far the worse parent, choosing to do nothing.

******

I awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright and drenched in sweat. The same nightmare haunted me, the screeching of tires across asphalt ringing in my ears. My throat was raw from screaming. Glancing to my right, three blinking red numbers drilled into my eyes—4:27 a.m. “Fantastic,” I muttered, dragging myself out of bed and untangling the mess of slightly damp covers from around my legs. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt like lead. Scrubbing the sleep from my eyes, I forced myself into the shower, letting the scalding water beat against my back. No pain was enough to drag me into reality though. I sat there, dead to the world, until the water ran cold, after which I pushed myself up and out.

I coiled my curls on top of my head, giving up on looking presentable. The dark bags under my eyes said what my mouth couldn’t: I wasn’t well. I grimaced at my reflection, at my body’s betrayal. Stumbling towards my closet, my numb fingers clutched at my work clothes: black and white and garish red. I looked like a corpse every day, which was ironic considering I spent every working hour turning other people into corpses. As I fumbled with the buttons, I tried once again to desperately return to reality, but the memories clouded my eyes, refusing to let me escape.

Realizing that the day was already a loss but determined to earn my keep in some way, I gradually made my way to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and left my apartment. Locking my door presented everlasting problems for my still unresponsive hands, but I eventually managed to secure my door. Stopping to collect myself once more, I reveled in the silence of the hall. Still, my peace was short lived as the muffled sounds of music rang out from the adjacent apartment. I longed for the effortlessness with which PJ lived his carefree life. I knew that it hadn’t come easy to him—after all, he hadn’t always been this unburdened. He, too, had had his fair share of trauma and regrets. It seemed like everyone here did.

Trudging down the endless, blank hallways, I finally arrived at the front of my department. The room was virtually empty, save the night security guard, who was unsurprised to see me. He barely glanced up from his book, nodded in my direction, and continued reading. It wasn’t unusual for me to be in the office during the wee hours of the morning. The first few days, he was suspicious, but as the days turned into weeks, he stopped commenting on my odd hours. Always the first to arrive and the last to leave—not because I was an overachiever, but because work was safe. When I went home, my mind was cut lose, free to torment me.

I flicked on the lights, illuminating the long stretch of cubicles. Even during normal working hours, the desks were usually devoid of people—overflowing with paperwork, but not a single living soul in sight. I ruffled through the stack of reports on my desk, mostly reference files that had yet to be signed off and returned to the Keepers. Grabbing my pen, I began to furiously sign any remaining legal work, tucking the death certificates in the back of their respective manilla folders. Neatly stacking the completed files in the outgoing basket on my desk, I rang for a Runner and sat back as I waited for their arrival. As expected, they were waiting in front of my desk in a matter of seconds.

“Two Pink Card files today. The rest are all Blue Card.” The Runner nodded and whisked away the folders, disappearing from view in a flurry of fabric and papers. I ran a hand through the tangle of still-damp curls that had slowly begun their escape from the knot on the top of my head. Now what am I going to do? The new files won’t come in for another hour at least, I thought. As if on cue, Alex came striding through the glass doors.

“Another early day?” he asked, as if this wasn’t a common occurrence.

“Of course. Just like every other day.” With an unusual grace for someone so large, he sat on my now empty desk, folding his long legs. He took up the whole space, making my already cramped office even tinier. I had never felt more miniscule. His long, thin fingers tapped rhythmically on his biceps, drawing attention to the muscles there. If I didn’t know him better, I would have thought he was trying to intimidate me.

“What about you? What are you doing here so early, Alex?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You know, the usual. Pink Card Keepers never rest.”

I choked back a laugh, but it sounded like a strangled animal. “Are you kidding? Pink Cards only cover what Yellow and Blue Cards don’t, which has been like next to nothing these days.” His eyes tightened at the corners—I’d struck a nerve for sure. Just like that, he relaxed, returning to his usual joking self.

“Well, I was called in early this morning—two new Pink Card only files were brought in a few minutes ago. I wonder who could have sent them in?” I feigned innocence, but I felt bad for waking him up. I wasn’t sure why those files couldn’t wait until normal hours. I had just assumed that they’d wait on someone’s desk until everyone else clocked in.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know they would wake you up for them—they’ve never done that before?”

“It’s fine. You know how anxious they are to get Pink Card work wrapped up, especially dangerous people like those two. The sooner the paperwork is done, the sooner HR can get them in Hell and away from all the innocent souls.” He paused, waiting for me to react, but my numb brain wasn’t truly processing anything. “Well, I better get to work then. Those files aren’t going to seal themselves.” With that, he turned to leave. At the double doors, he stopped, looked back, and winked at me before continuing on his way.

Hours later, other Reapers started filing in. Today’s files were brought by the Runners, although I’d barely noticed them. Honestly, the Runners were like phantoms—there one minute and gone the next. Opening the first packet, I skimmed over the list of humans I would be Reaping today: Bethany Jones—Blue Card, Amanda Howard—Blue Card, Lydia Ramirez—Yellow Card. The list went on and on. No one in particular stood out to me, and I grimaced—today’s Reaping wouldn’t take me but a few hours. I would be home alone with my thoughts for a majority of the work day.

PJ strode in, interrupting my stream of melancholy thoughts. His curly hair was slightly disheveled, a lazy smile on his face. “Whatcha’ think about today’s Reapings?” he asked.

PJ was in charge of assembling the list of Reapings and preparing the proper paperwork—as long as the files were within his level of clearance. PJ was relatively new to this work still, stagnating at Blue Card Keeper since graduation. Together with Chris, my designated Yellow Card Keeper, and Alex, PJ was my behind-the-scenes crew. On the off chance that I worked extended assignments on Earth, he got to read my reports and add them to that person’s file, but I hadn’t worked an extended assignment in years. In fact, I wasn’t sure PJ ever saw the other’s when prepping my work. During extended assignments, he would work closely with Chris, but I wasn’t sure the two had ever actually met before. In fact, I hardly ever saw Chris.

PJ snapped his fingers at me, drawing me from my internal monologue. “Are you listening? I asked what you thought about today’s Reapings.” I shook my head, forcing myself to focus.

“I’m a little bummed out actually. I don’t see anything that will keep me working for very long today, so I’ll be going home early. Which I know sounds great to you considering you’ll be here late working on the files because almost all of them are Blue Card, but it’s a real downer for me,” I explained when I saw him opening his mouth to protest. He grinned at me.

“You owe me. Dinner tonight. Your place. I want to talk to you about this new guy I met the other day!”

“If it’s a new love interest, I’d love to hear about it, although I’m a little miffed about cooking. However, since it’s a short day for me, I suppose I can make dinner tonight. Now get out of here—I have work to do, and so do you.” I playfully swatted at him. PJ always brought out the best in me and made it easier for me to shake off my early morning melancholy.

“See you tonight!” he called out as he all but skipped through the doors.

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overdorks-blog · 6 years

Note

HanMei (if you heard of the ship) and what if Hanzo was walking minding his own business when Snowball suddenly appeared and asked for help. Hanzo follows and finds a drunk Mei. He carries her to her room, and she asks him to stay with her.

Sorry this took so long to get to you! I’ve just been so uninspired recently.

Also, whoops. There was angst. My hand slipped.

————————————————————–

Hanzo didn’t come to Overwatch to make friends. The true and genuine reason he appeared at Watchpoint: Gibraltar, was because of his brother. Even now, in the time that he had been there, even though Genji seemed glad to see him, constantly, Hanzo couldn’t help but feel that their relationship was rocky. That Genji was saving face around him for his own comfort. His brother was an entirely different man from all those years ago, so Hanzo couldn’t at all be sure.

But he stayed, regardless of how he felt things were going, because he felt obligated to try and make things work out here, if nothing else. And make things work he had, certainly.

There was Genji’s best friend, Jesse. He was…an interesting character. Loud, bullheaded and brash. He was about as typical as an american stereotype can be. But the man had a good heart and seemed to cre greatly about the organization. There was Hana, the teenage warrior with an affinity for modern technology, and an online persona that of a girl with no insecurities and endless confidence. She would chat at him excitedly in Korean and take unflattering pictures while he wasn’t looking. The list of characters went on, and Hanzo got to know them each as well as they would let him, or as well as he would let himself.

Hanzo could call them friends, he supposed. Did he expect to find someone beyond that? Certainly not.

He had met Mei in the shooting range in his first few days on the base. The woman had been squinting slightly in focus as she shoots ice crystals out of her contraption and into the chassis of a training bot downrange. He frowns a little, watching her. She seems to be doing fine on her own, and interjecting advice at this point, Hanzo decides, would be rude. Surely, if she was on this team, she was more than capable of handling herself. Even if her posture for such things was absolutely awful.

Uncasing Stormbow, Hanzo slings the quiver over his shoulder and finds a high up place where training bots ‘patrolled’ by. He dispatches them with ease, turning slightly to tag the few stationary bots within his line of sight. It was horridly simple, but he refused to adjust the difficulty settings while someone else was in the training area with him.

He feels eyes on him and turns, and the scientist seems to jump a little, blushing at being caught. She stammers something about needing to leave in Mandarin, and makes her escape quickly. It confused him, at the time.

It became more clear, over the months. He would stumble into the kitchen in the morning to find her sitting over a large amount of sweet sticky rice, far too much for one person to eat on their own. she would always smile and offer him some, and he would take it, because….well he wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was how she sounded still tired in her yeti pajamas, how hopeful she looked when she asked him if he wanted any. He couldn’t say no.

And it only escalated from there, he would say. It went from her offering to share, to them making breakfast and eating together. Sitting and having tea and chatting in Mandarin or Japanese, whichever one they happened to fancy that day.

Of course, Hanzo would never admit that his feelings for her went beyond that of friendship. A relationship in a place like this, with the lives they had wouldn’t be beneficial to anybody, and could put anyone here at risk, including themselves.

Today in particular, Hanzo had been resting. After a mishap in a mission, he had hit his shoulder harder than he should have when breaking his fall. He miscalculated, is all, and he was certainly feeling it today.

At least, hr had been resting. Something cold nizges his arm and his eyes open, frowning and looking down. There, pressed against his arm, was Mei’s assist-bot, as he had come to think of it, not quite sure if the thing was a robot or an omnic. Either way, it was her companion. What was it doing so far into the base, and away from her lab or her room?

“What?” He demands, and the flaps on the side snap down and it sinks a bit, before nudging against his hand. He pets it, as Mei often does, but as soon as his hand is over the top, it darts away, as if attempting to pull him out of his seat with his hand.

“Ow- hey!” He scolds and snowball whirrs at him insistently. it goes to the door and then back, whirring and chittering at him. “You…want me to follow you?” He inquires, and the flaps on the side come up and it comes back to him. That seems to be an affirmative, but Hanzo isn’t sure. He stands and the bot races to the door, confirming his suspicions. “Fine- I will follow. but what is the meaning of this?” He asks, and snowball whirrs.

That isn’t at all helpful. He sighs and resigns himself to following the bot.

It leads him into the lab area, most of the lights are off. Mei, in those adorable yeti pajamas, looks to be pouring over data, she looks over at Hanzo when he enters, turning away quicky and wiping her face. he frowns, approaching her. “Mei, are you alright?”

“I- yeah!” She turns around beaming at him and brushing some holoscreens into a digital folder behind her. Her eyes are red and her face is heavily flushed, almost entirely red. It’s more than clear that she’s been drinking. Now, Hanzo was no stranger to having a drink, and, yes, occasion getting drunk. There was nothing wrong with either of those things in moderation, but Mei was clearly also upset.

“I was just- There’s still so much data from when I was- yeah.” She nods, eyes focusing on something on another desk, and she goes for it, stumbling over her own feet before she gets there. Thankfully, she’s caught by a strong, dragon-tattooed arm rather than the floor. “Be careful.” He chides, and Mei frowns childishly. “I don’t need your help.” she huffs, fixing her glasses and gently pushing his arm away.

He frowns as she moves to the desk, shuffling through papers, shaking her head and and lifting her glasses to rub at her eyes. She sniffles and HAnzo frowns, sighing softly. “Mei-san. You’re distraught.” He isnists, and she looks over at him, fresh tears gathering in her eyes.

“I- My team, Hanzo. I- I have to do this. They- I was the only- I can’t just-”

Her shoulders shake and she hands her head, and Hanzo can’t help himself but to wrap his arms around her. she had told him about how she returned to Overwatch, waking up on Ecopoint: Antarctica and her entire station’s cryochambers being compromised after nine years of sleep.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He decides, pulling back and tucking a bit of hair behins her ear. Mei frowns, starting to protest. “Hush.” His instruction is firm, but gentle at the same time. “You are intoxicated, and hardly in any state to be reviewing data. We will get you some water amd to your bed.” Her eyebrows knit and it looks like she’s going to be stubborn and protest again, but she relents, looking away and nodding.

He steps back and she turns towards the doorway, taking a few uneasy steps before stumbling over herself again. She was more drunk than Hanzo originally thought. He catches her again, this time scooping her up to carrt her against his chest in a cross between bridal-style and the way one typically carries a child. She huffs, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“I do, if I don’t want to guide you across the base like a blind dog.” He answers easily, and she sighs, giving in. He feels strange, carrying her like this into the women’s barracks, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He approaches the door and she prattles off her door code, him fumbling a little and adjusting to put it in without dropping her, so he gently sets the woman back on her feet to punch in the numbers.

The door slides open and he turns on the light. Mei seems to have figured herself out enough, shuffling instead of trying to walk to her bed. She sits on it, and looks at him, taking her glasses off and her hair down, fluffing it out of it’s neat bun with a clumsy hand. He blushes, looking away and clearing his throat.

“I- I suppose this is where I take my leave.” he nods as she adjusts her pillows and blankets with immense concentration. “Oyasumi, Mei-san.”

He turns the light off, sure to leave on the lamp by her head as she gets settled in. He sighs down at her, petting her head once before straightening up and going to leave. “Wait.” She sits back up a little, frowning at him. “will you stay with me?”

“I- hardly think that’s-”

“I hate waking up alone. Not after Antarctica.” She blurts quickly, recoiling a little at her own words and looking at the ground. Her face would be redder if it was physically possible bast her drunkenness. “B-but If you don’t want to, then that’s fine, I just-” she’s backpeadling already, but hanzo gives her a small, sad smile.

“If that is what you want, Mei. I will stay with you.” She nods once, and he moves to sit on the bed with her, laying out beside her. She turns over to snuggle against his side, a fuzzy, blue cloudy blanket between them. He wraps an arm around her, looking down at the woman, already falling asleep again.

“You will never wake up alone, then. If that is what you want.” He rumbles softly

#Hanmei #tex writes #overdorks #hanzo #hanzo shimada #mei #mei ling zhou #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #fanfiction requests

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geniuscloud · 7 years

Text

You Are My Sunshine- Hoseok/J-Hope (BTS) Oneshot

Genre: ANGST

Hoseok/J-Hope (BTS) X Orginal Character

WARNINGS: Subject of Death.

The anon request asked for “Hoseok angst that will mke me almost want to cry”… So…This is really dark, and very depressing, especially if you really picture Hoseok in this situation. Please don’t read for the faint of heart, and I’m sorry!

This was never supposed to happen. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Our dreams of growing old together was supposed to go through with no bumps in the road. We were going to be happy; married and with children. We had planned to see the world together, and reside in one another. We were supposed to stay home; not in a hospital. Where I could lay with him, and not sit beside him anxiously holding his hand while he slept. Though fate seemed to have a different plan.

I walked into the hospital, my purse clenched in hand, my knuckles turning white. Every time I walked in through the front doors my heart started racing, and a pain in my chest settled in. White walls and grey linoleum floors. The smell of metal and antiseptic almost covered the musk of what I could only describe as the faint smell of heart break. The heart break of every family member, friend, or patient that walked through those doors. These smells made me sick to my stomach, even worse knowing that my fiancé had to be in here, breathing in this sickly stench. My soul ached to have him out of here, every part of my being wanted him home.

I walked over to the guest services, clearing my throat to make sure my voice didn’t hitch on the way out. “Hello, I got a call saying my Fiancé had been moved rooms?”

“Patients name please?” The woman asked. Her black hair was fading grey, and the aged, heavy face fell into a frown. She looked as if she was sorry for me, not even knowing what kind of condition the person I was here for was in.

“Jung Hoseok, he was in room 304 last time.”

She clicked through her files quietly before raising her head to me and replying, “He’s in room 413, you can take the north elevator to the fourth floor, and it will be down the hall and on your left-hand side.”

“Thank you,” I whispered quietly.

The walk to his room was silent. The whole hospital seemed to almost be at a standstill, and the only noise that I could hear after blocking out my surroundings was the blood in my ears. My brain was on autopilot, taking step after step, even though my mind was far behind. I couldn’t focus. I didn’t want to be here. I just wanted to be at home, cuddled on the couch with my fiancé and eating lunch together. Looking up at the room number, I stopped in my tracks briefly, trying to prepare myself before entering. I swallowed hard and pushed the door open.

The first thing my eyes locked on was him. He laid there motionless, the only noise besides the heart monitor beeping was his deep breaths that echoed through the tubes. I couldn’t help but shed a tear, trying to force my emotions down. I couldn’t handle it though. Hoseok didn’t deserve to be this way, if anything it should have been me. I should have been the one who got sick. We thought it was just food poisoning and left it for a few days, but it wasn’t. We should have taken him when he started feeling ill, not a week later. Whatever is killing him maybe could have been caught if we hadn’t waited. I remember him telling me his stomach hurt after we had eaten dinner, and then a few days later complaining that his lungs hurt, and he couldn’t catch his breath. Then he started dancing again, and it got worse. He was choking, and struggling to breathe, almost suffocating on thin air. He had called me and told me his problems, and asked if I could take him to the hospital. By the time I arrived he was on the floor of the studio, alone and gasping for air. They forced tubes down his throat, and opened his air ways.

The ambulance taking him away was a blur to me… I shut down internally, but I kept screaming. On the floor while holding his head, screaming at the top of my lungs for help. I tried dragging him out of the room, thinking that maybe if I could get him to the front doors while the ambulance was on their way, it would shorten time and there would be a better chance at saving his life. He was heavy, almost unresponsive, and crying as well. The only thing that he could do was cry and choke. My body reacted while my brain took a back seat. It was only a minute or two until the paramedics arrived to see me trying to drag him out of the studio. His black hair stuck to his forehead, as beads of sweat dripped down his face.

“Please! Save him! I can’t lose him like this, please!” I cried out. Then my memory fades. That’s the only thing I could remember from that day.

I sat down beside him, and grabbed his hands. They were cold and his skin was dry. He linked his fingers with mine in response, his head drooping over to face me, while he tried to force his eyes open into a small squint.

“Hey sunshine, I’m here. I would have been here a little sooner but the neighbors brought over some flowers for you. They are at the house, since you can’t have flowers in your room right now. They’re beautiful though. You’ll get to come home soon and see them. They picked out some blue orchids, you’ll love them.” I reached into my purse with my other hand, grabbing some Chapstick and opening the lid. Lightly I brushed them across my own lips before noticing how dry his were as well. Standing back up and leaning over him, I tried to avoid the tubes as well as I could.

“Since I can’t kiss you yet, think of it as an indirect kiss. Luckily, I can still kiss your cheek though. May I?”

Hoseok hummed in response before I planted a gentle kiss on his soft cheek. I longed to hear his voice, to kiss his lips, and ultimately for him to be okay. I just wanted him to finally get better, but these three long weeks have dragged out for what felt like an eternity.

“The doctor said they are going to try a different method so they can get these tubes out of your mouth. Just a little more testing, and then eventually they think they might be able to fix you up and get you home. It won’t be like this forever, so please try to endure a little longer,” I whispered, pushing his hair back.

“When you get back, we can go back to planning our wedding. I want to be with you forever, so please try to get better, okay? I can��t live without you. You’re my angel after all, you’ve said so yourself. You’ve been there for me through every step of the way, and you’re the only reason I’m happy. I love you so much, and you’re my reason to live. I want to be with you no matter what happens. As long as I’m with you, I don’t need anything else. Okay? I want to marry you, and have children. I want us to have a home, and live a long time with each other in happiness. There is no point in being without you.” I stroked my thumb over his hand, and he gave me a gentle squeeze in response. This was the way of him saying ‘I love you’, along with the small hand hearts he tried to do.

There was a little knock at the door before a nurse walked in; “Hello Hoseok, I’m here to give you your 2pm medication. You have a higher dosage today, so it’s important you try and sleep, please don’t fight it. You need your rest.”

I nodded my head in response, never letting go of his hand while the nurse started ejecting liquids into his IV. His small squint started closing, and I whispered, “Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere tonight, I’ll stay with you.”

As quickly as the nurse entered, she left. With Hoseok asleep, and the nurse gone I suddenly felt the pain starting to build up. “He’s asleep, you don’t have to be strong. It’s okay to break a little and let it out,” I told myself. So, I lost it. My tears started streaming, as the soft crying echoed through the room. I couldn’t help but cry, and lose my composure for a few moments. I was worried, in pain, and the cloud of fear hung over me like smoke. I was scared of losing him, and of losing the only person I needed most in my life. If anything happened to him, it would be over for the both of us. I can’t lose him like this, and I refuse to let fate do this to him. He deserves the world. Hoseok was the man who never stopped smiling. He was the man who put others before himself, and would try to make others happy, even if he was broken. He deserves to live. More tears streamed down my face, as I clung onto his hand. I wouldn’t let him go, and I never will…

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, You make me happy when skies are gray, You’ll never know dear, how much I love you, Please don’t take my sunshine away…

#bts #BTS request #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #hoseok #hobi #j hope #jhope #seokjin #suga #min yoongi #rap monster #namjoon #taehyung #v bts #jimin #jungkook #jung hoseok

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thedeadflag · 7 years

Text

So @neda-5555 said that Thursday would be a good day to post snippets of my new or old WIP fics that I’m not sure I’ll get around to finishing (at least not likely any time soon)

And it’s Thursday!

So here’s a portion of a spy AU crackfic Clanya one-shot I milled away on one weekend when I was in the mood for something absurd

I can’t think up anything real witty to tag these snippets with, so for the time being it’ll be #TBCThursday, this story specifically being #spycrack

May 5th

Anya let out a weary sigh as she made her way up the steps to her temporary home, shoulder smarting from the altercation she'd gotten into at the docks alongside her contact. The life of an international spy wasn't an easy one, but she certainly couldn't say it was boring.

Especially when she was undercover, trying to take down the man ranked second on the CIA's most wanted list, a self-titled warlord, Cage Wallace. Of course, she'd officially been sent there to steal information and surveil deals between warlord and partners, but she knew that if the opportunity came up, she had the green light to kill him, if possible.

She'd been brought into the three-year old operation as a trusted trading partner and mercenary of a contact the government had pushed in place deep within Wallace's inner circle. The man was responsible for thousands of deaths each year, and she'd been all too happy to take the mission.

At least, until a week in when she'd found herself with surprise company at home. A master thief who, as Anya unlocked her front door, was still living at her place if the loud workout music was any indication.

Anya didn't trust Clarke Griffin. Not just because the woman was a renowned master thief, but because the woman was trying to run an op on her. Some third party had hired the woman to threaten her to give Clarke certain intel locked away in the central CIA servers.

Normally, at that point, she would have killed the blackmailer, but Clarke's employers had been cautious, requiring Clarke to check in with multiple contacts each day with a contingency that if she didn't, they'd leak to Wallace her identity and her contact's identity, blowing a years-long op. If she tried to tell her contacts about the blackmail attempt, they'd leak to Wallace. If they saw the contact doing anything suspicious, as if he'd been told his cover was blown, then they'd leak to Wallace. Etcetera, etcetera.

It was a mess, one she still didn't know how to fix yet, but she needed a cold drink more than anything at the moment, slipping off her boots and making her way into the kitchen.

Which, of course, gave her a perfect line of sight to Clarke working out nearly nude, signifying the other issue she had going on. That Clarke had a deadline to reach so that she would get paid, and if Anya wasn't going to play along with the whole bit of treason they were trying to push her into, then Clarke would try to seduce her into taking the deal. Preposterous, but this was Anya's new reality.

Clarke, as of today, was oh-for-thirteen. She gave the woman credit; Clarke didn't lack effort or determination, and had been entirely ethical throughout, respecting her boundaries, at least to an extent. Clarke wouldn't leave the premises, but she also wouldn't slip into Anya's bed at night, or touch her inappropriately, or anything like that.

Which made it all a very strange situation, one Anya couldn't make heads or tails of, but she'd figure out how to get out of her issue eventually.

"Hey, babe, how was work?" Clarke asked, stepping away from her yoga mat, toweling her glistening body off with a towel. The way the light came in through the window and lit up Clarke's body like a Christmas tree made it a herculean effort to hold eye contact.

"You keep asking about my mission, and I keep telling you that it's classified." Anya noted, taking a moment to gulp down half her glass of water before responding to Clarke's roll of her eyes. "You realize I'm not going to cave, right? That you're wasting your time and energy?"

Clarke let out an amused scoff. "Please. A good workout is never a waste of time and energy. Still, I could go for a shower, and you look like you could use one, too. Want to save water?"

"You enjoy yourself, Clarke, I'll shower later." She answered easily, cocking an eyebrow at the flicker of frustration on Clarke's face. "You have to know it's not going to be that easy. That's one of the oldest, most transparent tricks in the book that it's not really even a trick anymore."

"Who said anything about a trick? We're just two roommates sharing a shower and protecting Mother Earth. What's the harm in enjoying each other's company a little?" Clarke countered, just absolutely brazen and aggressive as always.

Anya rolled her eyes, re-filled her glass, and strode off towards her bedroom. "Good luck with that." She noted, nearly stumbling mid-stride as she caught a reflection of Clarke in the mirror, that deep coiling arousal making itself known as she fought the urge to rush into her room. She kept calm, kept cool, until her door was closed, at least, sliding down her wall and taking a breather.

She'd need all the strength she could get. She was much, much too gay for this.

May 8th

Anya woke up thirsty.

Not exactly an unusual thing as of late, what with her frustratingly alluring 'roommate' being ever-present, but still. It was a nuisance.

With a heavy sigh, she slung her feet off the side of the mattress and, once she was sure she was stable enough to walk, quietly made her way to the bedroom door and deeper into the dark home. She'd long since learned how to move about her home silently, but there was always a chance her sleepy haze dulled her senses to any cues, so she tried to be ever vigilant as she carefully made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. She even ensured the stream of water was slow, and that the glass was angled to minimize splash and other sounds.

"Hungry for a late night snack?"

Anya stifled a groan more out of principle than anything, but when she turned her head to gaze at the newly lit living room, Clarke sitting with her legs crossed wearing an entirely devilish chemise, it escaped her along with most of the air in her lungs.

"Jesus Christ." Anya bit out once she found some semblance of composure, eyes clenching shut as she tried to focus on anything but Clarke's legs. "Have you been waiting there all night?"

"No, but I like to be prepared. And nothing's wrong with a little dramatic flourish, Anya. You should try it one day." Clarke offered as a retort, still making zero sense of the fact that she appeared to be waiting for her to wake up in the middle of the damn night.

"Go to bed, Clarke." Anya groused, taking a swig of her water.

"There's only one in this place. Is that an invitation?" Clarke asked, and if Anya wasn't entirely sure that this was all an emotionless game for the thief, she could have sworn there was some hope spilling out with those words.

Anya sighed and made a slow walk back to her bedroom. "No. Just go to sleep."

"Spoil sport." Clarke grumbled, and in a sense Anya could feel for the woman. She was a master thief, housebound dealing with an agent that refused to commit treason, who she couldn't leave alone until her mysterious deadline.

Clarke was trapped there with her just as she was trapped with Clarke. And sleeping on the couch wasn't the most comfortable experience, either.

Maybe if Clarke didn't have a mission to turn her, she would have shared her bed the occasional night, but it was too heavy of a risk. She couldn't compromise the mission or herself.

It just wasn't safe.

May 13th

Anya heard the front door open seconds after settling down to watch one of her old favourites, Mr and Mrs Smith, and cursed her luck, hoping for at least an hour of alone time.

"Hey there, cutie. What are you doing home?" Clarke asked, sounding oddly upbeat. She had to give Clarke credit for playing her part so well and seamlessly, not even a hint of disappointment or frustration in her voice.

"Wallace took the day off. Apparently one birthday isn't enough per year, so he celebrates two months afterward to mark the time of year when his parents had sex and conceived him." Anya noted lazily, the shock having worn off a half hour ago to where she was just sort of weirded out about a grown man celebrating his conception with an all-day orgy of his own.

Clarke scrunched her nose as she passed Anya, flopping down beside her onto the couch. "Gross." The thief remarked, leaning forward to grab a few chips from the bowl Anya had set out on the table in front of them. "What are you watching?"

Anya rolled her eyes, but knew Clarke had been the one to get the chips in the first place on hr last grocery run, so whatever. "Mr and Mrs Smith. And before you say it, yes, I'm a living cliché."

"Oooh, this one's fun! Though I never understood why they fought in the first place." Clarke mused, shifting ever closer to Anya, leaving maybe half an inch of space between their thighs.

"They had orders. And they felt betrayed, that their marriage was a simple cover. Of course, they're terrible assassins who should have seen the signs that were right in front of their eyes, but still. More than enough reason for them to go at it." Anya explained, wondering how it wasn't obvious to Clarke. No one wanted to learn a comforting part of their existence, where they could let parts of their real selves out, was all a lie.

Even spies had hearts.

"I mean, sure, but you don't stay married that long without developing real feelings, even if it started as a cover. If I was married for ten years and learned my spouse was a spy or assassin, pretty sure I'd still love them and have their back. Pretty sure I'd trust that I knew enough about them to stand by them. Especially if I was a spy or assassin, too." Clarke said in return, clearly not seeing things from a pragmatic point of view.

Still, it was oddly touching to hear a master thief speak of loyalty like that. "Do you truly believe that?"

Clarke shrugged and mowed down on her handful of chips, eventually swallowing and letting her gaze linger on Anya for a few moments longer than usual. "Gotta have faith in someone, sometimes. Just because so much of what you do is smoke and mirrors doesn't mean there's not something or someone real for you to hold onto when you need a life raft, Anya."

Anya scoffed, even as her lips curled up into a reluctant smile. "Never met an idealist thief before."

"First time for everything." Clarke chimed in playfully, Anya feeling suddenly much warmer as Clarke curled up against her, head leaning on her shoulder. "Didn't sleep much last night, and I'm wiped. Is this okay, or should I do my thing on the other side of the couch?"

She weighed her options, but knew that Clarke had been respectful so far. If the woman was tired, and Anya was using her bed for movie-watching essentially, then it wouldn't be right to deny her a little comfort. Clarke did seem to stay up late at night, so she wouldn't be surprised if the thief tended to sleep during the day a bit when Anya was usually away.

"It's fine, Clarke. Do what you will." Anya answered, earning a lengthy yawn from her thief roommate as Clarke settled in against her.

Within minutes, Clarke was out like a light, gently snoring, arms having unconsciously navigated their way around Anya's nearest in the woman's slumber.

Maybe Anya decided to sit through two more films than she'd initially planned on. Maybe a part of her loved the feeling of another person cuddled up against her after so long without any meaningful human contact.

Maybe she had a hard time feeling guilty about that.

May 17th

Anya wiped the sweat from her brow as she made her way up the stairs to her home, sick and tired of the heat wave that rolled into the city two days prior. It'd made sleeping a damn chore, and had her wishing that the CIA had dished out more coin for a place with central air, even if the place was pretty great otherwise.

Their window unit had failed the previous day after a few hours of herculean effort, and all the shops in driving range were sold out, so Anya wasn't looking forward to at least the next day or two of straddling the line between uncomfortably hot and heat-stroke.

Anya shambled her way into her home, wondering why the hell Clarke had the music on so loud. Clarke only ever had it that loud when she worked out, and it was too damn hot for any of that sort of nonsense.

"Clarke, what the hell are you..." Anya started tiredly, only to still as she rounded into the kitchen, both baffled and excited at the sight in front of her, Clarke fully clothed and dancing in their kitchen, with a functioning AC unit a few feet away in the living room window.

"Anya! Welcome home, babe!" Clarke cheered once she noticed she wasn't alone. The thief rushed over to her and pulled her by the hands into to the living room, in front of the glorious window air conditioning unit and the majestically cool air it was blowing into her home. "Now you can't tell me I never did anything for you."

Anya fell to her knees, exhausted and overheated after a long day out in the sun and in an overcrowded hot room helping facilitate a business deal. The air was cold enough to add a little bite to the chill that ran across her skin, that rushed down her spine, but Anya wouldn't have had it any other way.

"How?" She asked, entirely befuddled. She'd called every store, every merchant, talked to all the private sellers. Everyone was sold out, and the next shipments would come in at the end of the week, where there might not be enough to get to her spot on the waiting lists.

Clarke moved to a kneel beside her, hand lifting to comb Anya's sweat-saturated damp hair out of her face. "You live with a thief, babe. About time I used my abilities for good." Clarke explained, immediately hushing her as Anya turned her head and shot her a reproachful stare. "Shhh, don't worry, Anya. I took it from a wealthy diplomat who will be out of the country for another month. It wasn't being used, and we need one. I'll return it once this heat spell breaks...no harm, no foul."

And well, as far as theft went, Anya supposed there were worse ways to go about it. Honestly, it painted an amusing picture in her mind. "You broke into some rich diplomat's house just to steal his AC?"

Clarke rolled her eyes and ran her hand through Anya's hair, the touch surprising Anya with how lovely it felt after such a long, exhausting day. "Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that. A thief never tells."

Anya let out a small laugh, too tired to really make a big fuss about it. "Just...thank you. I was dreading the next few days."

"Well, don't worry. Someone's gotta take care of you." Clarke noted, as if that made any sense in the least. Still, Clarke was gone from her side in a flash, making her way to the kitchen fridge. "Besides, I wanted to beat the heat with something tasty."

Anya's ears perked up at the mention of food, having had to skip lunch, and with her day running long, her stomach was being a little demanding. "Oh?"

Clarke turned around, kicking the fridge door shut as she held up her second largest glass baking pan. A pan that, as she sniffed, smelled like her favourite treat. "Normally I like them warm and gooey, but with this heat-wave, I thought a thicker icing and a chewier, cooler brownie would be perfect."

She was certain that she was staring, gaping really, like an idiot. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. There was just no reason. "Why are you doing this? Is this part of your ridiculous seduction act?" Anya asked as Clarke pit into a corner square, the thief moaning in delight at what Anya could only imagine was a delicious brownie.

Clarke took her sweet time swallowing her bite, but instead of speaking, the thief just took another, shooting her a quick, messy, chocolate-adorned smile. "What, am I not being sexy enough for you to tell?" Clarke asked, letting out a loud laugh. "Seriously, I just wanted something sweet, get over yourself. I may have a mission, but not everything I do revolves around you, babe."

Anya nodded, letting her gaze fall back onto the pan of brownies as Clarke sat down on the couch, setting the treats on the coffee table. "May I have one?"

"Keep me company for a bit, and sure." Clarke answered, patting the spot on the couch beside her. "Promise it's still chilly enough to need a blanket over here."

"I'm not going to snuggle with you under your blanket, Clarke." Anya retorted, even as she made her way to her feet and over to the couch.

"Pshh, you can get your own blanket, mine is Clarke-sized for a reason." Clarke shot back, the thief curling up in her oversized blanket as she munched on another brownie square.

And maybe she did get her own blanket. And maybe they settled in for a quiet, relaxing evening, enjoying the crisp coolness of their home while they ate brownies and ordered in.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad evening at all.

#TBCThursday #spycrack

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[HR] My best friend went missing twenty years ago. Today, I saw him.

His name was Alistair, and he was my best friend.

We met when we were both freshmen in highschool. He was tall and skinny, with black hair and the lumbering, awkward gait of someone who grew too tall, too fast. He had glossy, chestnut colored eyes that always shined with tears that were just not coming out, and would talk just above a whisper when others were around.

We met through a mutual friend, Zain, who knew him from back in primary school. He was an only child, and only really had Zain as a friend. They used to be best friends, and it really showed. Alistair was always different around him. He was more confident, his walk becoming less of a lumber and more of a stride. His head raised a bit higher and his voice coming out a bit clearer. His wit and sense of humor also showed through when they were together, leaving our sides splitting and our heads light from the endless jokes and quips he made. We'd always hang out together during lunch and after school, riding our bicycles down to the beach or to someone's house until sundown hit. At first I hung around with him because I felt sorry for him, he really struggled to interact with other people and only had us as friends. After a while though, we genuinely grew close.

The first time I went to Alistair's house, I thought he was a millionaire. He lived in the biggest house on the block, with three monstrous rooms which dominated the western wing. A massive living room, kitchen with all the bells and whistles and a game room, complete with a fully-kitted arcade took up the rest of the house. The entire northern wall was made of sliding doors that opened up into a beautiful terrace, complete with the deepest pool I've ever swam in. To call his parents rich was an understatement, and to call them 'absent' would be right on the ball. I can count the amount of times I've met them on my fingers. His dad was a lawyer. A very successful one, supposedly. He owned a few firms around the world and never really stayed in one place for longer than a week, while his mom was an ex-model who liked to travel with her friends and do the occasional promotional shoot. The lack of parents, sweet pad and endless food made his house our go-to meet up spot.

We got up to the usual trouble that teenagers get into. Sneaking into abandoned houses and breaking whatever wasn't nailed down, taking sips of booze from our parents cabinets on the sly and pretending to be a lot more drunk than we actually were. Skipping class to smoke cigarettes in the bathroom. Most of the time we got caught, but we only ever got a smack on the wrist and a 'don't do that again'.

We were as thick as thieves, but after freshman year ended and school break started, Zain left. His parents got a better opportunity out of state, and before we knew it, he was saying his last farewells over a shot of whiskey stolen from Alistairs’ parents liquor cabinet.

The next school year started without him, and for the first few weeks, Alistair wasn't the same. He wasn't as comfortable around me as he was when Zain was around, and his usual slouch was deeper than ever. His eyes even sadder than normal. I carried on as if nothing had changed, inviting him to come down to my house for the afternoon or for us to go down to the train station and smoke a cig or two. My relentless pestering eventually won him over, and he slowly opened up again. We became closer than ever, every afternoon spent together getting up to mischief like the good old days.

That year I really grew out of my shell, I became more vocal in class and made a lot more friends. Alistair still barely talked above a whisper when other people were around, but soon enough we were being invited to parties almost every weekend, mostly due to Alistair getting a fake ID. Being the tallest and oldest looking out of all of us, he would buy the alcohol for everyone, which in turn got us invited out even more.

The year ended and we turned sixteen. Alistair got his license, and his parents got him a car. His hunched over frame completely dominating the small, black VW sedan his parents bought him. It had just enough space to cram everyone inside, as long as you didn't mind sitting on someone's lap, and he'd drive us all over town with it. Gas was paid for by his parents, so we could go wherever we wanted.

That’s when it happened. It was the weekend and all of us were at the beach, gathered around a small bonfire that we lit on the sand. The moon was high in the sky, it's bright shape reflected off of the waves as music blared out of Alistairs' car. We passed around a bottle of vodka, taking small sips before passing it on. I took a gulp, my head going fuzzy and the world going out of focus as I gave the bottle to Alistair.

We were all laughing and joking together, shouting over the music and each other, when suddenly our friend Cam stood up, his silhouette framed by the fire, and exclaimed:

"Hey, hey! Shut up, everyone! I've got something for us!"

We quietened down, seven glossy pairs of eyes staring up at Cam as he dusted off the sand from his ass. He swung his gaze over us, ensuring that he had our full attention, before reaching carefully into his pocket.

"I scored some from a friend of mine. It's only a bit, but I'm willing to share with you guys. Just this once." he said, as he pulled out a small, unassuming joint.

Most of us stayed quiet, having never really taken drugs before and not sure of how to respond. One or two of us let out cheers of joy as Cam lit it up, taking a few drags before passing it to the next person.

I didn't wanna be left out, and being curious, I took a few drags, letting the smoke sit in my lungs for a bit before breathing it out. Immediately my head started feeling lighter, and I could feel tingles along my body. I glanced at everyone, them staring back at me, and we all burst into laughter as I handed it to Alistair.

He took a test pull, his eyes going wide as he felt it hit. He took another, longer pull as his shoulders relaxed, his back stretching out to its full length as he leaned back into the high.

For the first time ever, I saw him relax.

He took a couple more drags, his body stretching out and getting more comfortable with each one. Before we knew it, he’d finished it by himself.

It was like he was a whole different person. He was confident and friendly. Quick with a joke, and his laughs were more heartfelt. He took over the conversation, and for the first time ever, he became the center of attention.

For the rest of the night we sat there, feeding the fire and finishing the vodka. The sky lightened to a delicate blue as the sun began to rise. We hopped back into his car and he took us back home, dropping everyone off one by one until we were cruising down our street alone and towards my house.

“That was fucking awesome” he told me, as he eased the car into my driveway. “Best night of my life, man.”

“Yeah, but fuck, I’m tired now.” I replied, stifling a yawn as I clicked open the passenger door. “Thanks for dropping me off, man. Check you tomorrow?”

“Yeah dude, definitely.” he replied, as he gazed out the windscreen. He seemed lost in thought, only half-there as I hopped out of the car.

He gave me a half-hearted wave goodbye as I opened the door and went straight to bed, passing out the second my head hit the pillow. I slept well into the afternoon, and would’ve kept going if not for my mom waking me up.

“Andy! Phone for you!” she screamed from the lounge, snapping me out of my dreams. “It’s Ali!”

I groaned as I pulled my body out of bed, grabbing a pair of shorts from the chair next to me and slapping them on. I stumbled down to the lounge, my head pounding with every step.

My mom was standing by the phone, the receiver in one hand while the other covered the microphone. She gave me a knowing look, as I tried to tease the curls out of my hair.

“Have a fun night?” she asked, as I wandered up to her and held out my hand for the phone. “Want me to cook you up some eggs and bacon?”

I nodded, my stomach growling at the thought of some greasy bacon. I put the phone up to my ear and fell into the armchair, while my mom made her way to the kitchen.

“Yo, dude.” I said, as I got comfy in the chair. “What’s up?”

“Hey man,” Alistair replied excitedly, as his voice crackled through the speakers, “You wanna come over to my place? My parents aren’t home."

“Wow, what a shocker.” I replied, the joke being well-worn and comfortable by that point. We both knew that Alistairs' parents were never home. “Only if you pick me up, I’ve got a killer hangover.”

“Sure, man! Just tell me when.” he replied enthusiastically.

I gave him a time that I estimated would be just after breakfast. After a few jabs at each other we said goodbye and I hung up the receiver, the smell of bacon and eggs prompting me to the kitchen.

Stomach full and head feeling better, I stood by the driveway while I waited for him to pick me up. The sun was high up in the sky, the wind buffeting me and skewing my hair as I saw the telltale glint of his black sedan. Alistair drove up the driveway, revving the engine a bit as he pretended to swerve into me before coming to a smooth stop next to me. The blaring music he was playing spilled outside, as he reached out one gangly arm and unlocked the passenger door for me. I hopped in and gave him a light punch on the shoulder, before closing the door behind me.

He maneuvered the car out the driveway and took off down the street, the engine purring and the road smooth underneath the tires. A few minutes later we arrived, Alistair pressing the button that opened the gate leading into the property. He swung the car through it once it was open, it shut behind us and he pressed the button that opens the garage.

The garage was a separate building from the house, and massive. It had enough space for his and his parents cars, as well as his dad’s project car. His dad had installed a fully-kitted workshop in the back so he could work on it when he was here. He maneuvered his car and parked it in his spot, pressing the button again once the engine shut off, closing the garage behind us. The fluorescent lights came on automatically as we hopped out and walked into the main building, the familiar smell of floor cleaner and polished marble welcoming us back.

I made my way to the game room while Alistair closed the door behind us. I swung open the familiar oak door, revealing rows of old-school arcade machines and the fully-kitted snack bar in the corner.

Him and I spent most of the day there, going against each other’s high scores on the machines and eating from the snack bar until sundown. As the sun touched the horizon, its red glow filling the sky, I noticed Alistair getting more and more quiet.

Just as I beat his high score, he approached he, his head hung down and his shoulders tensed.

“Hey man, uh… I got something for us.” he said tentatively, as he reached for his pocket.

I got flashbacks to last night as he held out a small joint, similar to the one Cam had. For a moment he stood there, bouncing from foot to foot as I contemplated it.

“Whoa, no way dude! Where did you get it?” I asked him, as I carefully picked it up.

“From the same guy Cam got his.” he replied, as the tension left his body. I could almost hear his relief.

“Oh shit, did you ask Cam? When did you call him, this morning?” I asked.

“What, you mad? The phone lines tapped, stupid.” he replied, as he tapped the side of his head with his finger. “I went to his house and asked him.”

For a moment I was stunned, picturing shy little Alistair driving up to Cam’s house and asking him for his dealer’s information.

My eyes widened when I realized that he must have then went to the dealer by himself and brought this.

“I kinda… Wanted to try it again, and thought it would be cool if we had it together.” he said, his eyes worried underneath his heavy eyelashes.

“I mean yeah, I’m all for it. You wanna do it here?” I asked him, as I handed it back to him.

“Yeah, let’s chill by the pool.” he replied, as he made his way outside. “Light it up, watch the sunset, smoke some cigs. Sounds cool.”

We grabbed the lounge chairs and sat next to the water. Alistair lit it, taking a few deep pulls before passing it to me. The sun dipped low to the sounds of the birds singing and the pool cleaner moving, smoke hanging between the two of us as we passed it back and forth.

But something happened. Something wasn’t right.

I started getting anxious, constant thoughts of being busted or the cops banging on the door running through my mind. The pleasant tingling from yesterday wasn’t there, instead replaced by what felt like running static throughout my entire body, sending jolts down my limbs and making me jump. I started feeling panicked, uncomfortable and scared from what was happening to me. My heart beat faster and faster, drowning out the sounds of the birds.

I sat there in discomfort and panic, the sun too red and way too harsh for my eyes. I started picturing his parents pulling open the door, his dad shouting at me, calling me a criminal while his mom called the cops.

I began to sweat. A cold, panicked sweat. I felt it dripping down my back, felt it stinging my eyes. I clenched my teeth, trying to calm myself down as I squinted my eyes against the sun.

All the while, Alistair sat there, a dreamy expression on his face as he watched the sun glint off the surface of the pool. His hand would lazily lift up to his face, his eyes squinting slightly as he took another drag.

He was in absolute bliss, while I was in hell.

It took an hour for it to wear off. A full hour feeling the worst anxiety of my life. All the while Alistair gazed at the sky, making an occasional comment about the shapes of the clouds. When night came and the moon rose, and I felt the effect wear off, I got Alistair to drop me off early.

That day, I learned that sometimes, weed makes me panic. It was the day that I decided that it wasn’t worth the risk. That day, I realised that twice was enough for me, and that I’d never touch the stuff again.

It was also the day that Alistair decided to become a daily user.

At first he’d only smoke it after school, when he got home. Then, he started smoking it just before school as well. He became much more social, way more comfortable with people and way more comfortable with himself. Seeing him act so normal, even though he was so high, I wondered how he ever managed to cope without it.

Then, he started smoking it at school as well. He’d duck behind an alleyway or on the far side of the football field, underneath the big oak tree that grew there. He started gathering a small following, fellow stoners that were charmed by his open humor and new, welcoming personality.

It took some time, but I realized that we were drifting apart. I started hanging out with Cam more, spending lunch with him and the rest of the group while Alistair spent his lunch getting high. Soon enough he was skipping out on going out with us, preferring to stay at home and blaze all weekend with his new pals.

After a while, he stopped hanging out with us entirely. Three joints a day turned to four. Then five. Then we lost touch, and stopped seeing each other.

He started skipping school, preferring to spend his days by the beach or by the local park with all his other friends. His parents were called, but I don’t think anything came of that.

I turned seventeen, and for months I didn’t see him. I’d hear the occasional tidbit and rumor, though. He found another dealer and supposedly brought from them almost every day. One of his stoner friends moved in with him, taking up one of the spare bedrooms while his parents were away.

Then one day I went to a party, and he was there.

He was dirty, like he hadn’t showered for days. His pupils were dilated so much that they completely filled his retina, making them look black. He kept picking at his skin and hair, pulling out strand after strand from it. He’d constantly fuss over his nose, scratching at his nostrils and rubbing it constantly.

He gave me a wide grin and wrapped his arm around my shoulder when he saw me. He smelled of sweat and sickness.

I gave him a pat on the back and told him it was good to see him again. He made up some bullshit about us hanging out soon, before going off to rejoin the rest of his group. I stayed on the opposite side of the party, sipping my beer and watching him carefully.

A few hours in, I saw him pull out something. It was a plastic bag with white powder inside. He opened it up carefully, making sure not to drop any, while pulling out a small, metal spoon from his pocket. He dipped the spoon inside the powder, scooping up a tiny amount and bringing it up to his nose.

He snorted it quickly and violently, his whole body shaking as it went up his nose. He let out a few loud chuckles, before passing the bag and spoon onto the next person.

I got up and left. Seeing him fuck himself up like that made me angry. I wanted to grab him by his skinny neck and shake him until all this shit just left him, until all his druggy friends disappeared and we could go back to just playing games in his parents house.

But I couldn’t do that. No one could help him if he didn’t want help, and he clearly didn’t.

So, I left.

That was the last time I saw him.

A few weeks later, I was woken up by my mom shouting for me to come to the door. I dragged myself out of bed and went to grab a pair of shorts from the cupboard as usual, when she shouted for me again. "Andy! Get up and come here now!"

I let out a loud sigh as I pulled on the shorts, wondering just what the hell was so urgent. I swung open my bedroom door and bounded out the passage.

I slowed to a halt as I saw why she was so impatient. She was standing by the open doorway, two large policemen blocking the outside as they stood on the other side of it.

Their eyes turned to me, my mom's blazing with anger from having the police knocking on the door asking for me. The cops just looked tired, giving nothing away as to why they were here.

"You have visitors." my mom said, the disappointment dripping out of her voice.

I approached them cautiously, my mom stepping aside as I stood in front of them. A million memories flitted through my mind as I tried to think of why they'd be here.

I looked up at them, their downcast eyes staring down at me as I asked them: "Can I help you?"

"Are you Andy?" asked the one on the left, his lips barely visible underneath a thick, black beard.

"Yeah, that's me. Can I help you?" I asked again, my heart beating faster.

They looked to each other, their brows furrowed with worry as they wrestled with a decision. The one on the right gestured to the other, then nodded his head towards me. The other one let out a loud groan, an agreement passing between the two as he turned back towards me.

"It's about your friend, Alistair."

"He's missing."

I heard my mom gasp from behind me, then felt her hand gently rest on my shoulder. I stood there for a moment in disbelief, my mind not yet processing the seriousness of the situation.

A hundred different questions flitted through my mind, all of them swirling around and demanding answers. I grasped at the most prominent one. "For how long?"

"His parents aren't sure, but at least a week. They came back home last Saturday and he wasn't there. They called us last night when he still didn't show."

A whole week? He could be anywhere. He could be a hundred miles away from here, or even in a different country.

He could be dead.

Something tugged at my heart as I pictured Alistair lying in a cold, dark place, his eyes wide open and his skin grey and cold.

The officers voice snapped me back to the now, as I faintly heard him say something. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked him.

"His mom said that you'd be the last person who saw him. Apparently you two are very close. Best friends, right?"

My eyes widened as I realized that his parents didn't know that we weren't talking anymore. It's been so long since they came home.

I told the police that we weren't on speaking terms, and that we weren't for a few months. I gave them the names of some of the people I saw Alistair hanging out with, and they thanked me and told me they were gathering people to do a search of the town for him.

That afternoon my family and I joined about a hundred volunteers, rescue service crew and his parents in a massive search for him. We first checked out the town, driving down the streets and checking in alleyways and abandoned buildings. Then we combed through the woods, calling out his name as the sun dipped low. As the moon rose high in the sky, our torches illuminating our surroundings, we checked the beach.

We didn't find any sign of him. His parents were wracked with worry, their faces growing more sullen and their eyes becoming more haunted as the night progressed without any signs of him. As volunteers started heading off to home, apologizing to them as they went, they became quieter and quieter.

The search continued for two weeks, the volunteers giving up hope bit by bit as their numbers dwindled each day. By the end of the first week, it was just the rescue crew and his parents searching. By the end of the second, it was just his parents.

A few months passed before they gave up as well. Resigned and believing that they'd never see their son alive again, they locked themselves in their mansion and didn't come back out.

Finals came and went with him still missing. I started university in another state and mostly forgot about him, our memories together fading into the background as the stress of exams and my new friends kept me busy.

I got my degree and began work, accruing more and more bills and responsibilities. Performance reviews came and passed, promotions were handed to me. I met a girl named Emily, and we got engaged. We had a beautiful wedding in the Bahamas, my family and friends all coming with to celebrate.

I became older, my belly growing out and joints getting more and more stiff.

Emily got pregnant and we had a beautiful baby boy, after a relatively easy birth. We named him Michael, after Emily's grandfather.

All the while Alistair laid in the recesses of my mind. A distant memory, a person I knew back when I was a child.

My father passed away one day. Suddenly, in his sleep. We held a small funeral for him, Emily coming in her Sunday finest and Michael dressed in a neat little suit, held up in Emily's arms as he sucked on a dummy.

My mom was too old and frail to stay in the house alone. But she was too prideful and too stubborn to live with us. "I changed your damn diapers for years, it'd be humiliating if you ended up changing mine." she said, as she checked herself into an old age home close by. "Come and visit often, but I'll be fine."

We helped her move into her new house, all the antiques and baubles her and my dad collected over the years packed into small boxes and moved into her new unit. Emily and I spent the rest of the weekend helping her unpack, taking out her precious items one by one as she guided us on where to place them.

Once we were done, she strolled up to me, hands on her hips. With great finesse, she fished something out of her pocket and held out her hand to me.

I reached out my hand to hers, slightly confused as she dropped a set of keys into it.

"He left the house to you in his will. Take good care of it, I'm sure Michael will love it."

I couldn't believe it. He left the house to me? I gave her a long, deep hug as I thanked her, Emily doing the same right after. She brushed off the thanks, "It would rot and gather dust otherwise."

We moved in the next month, canceling our rental and hiring a moving company to take care of everything. We repainted all the rooms and installed new lighting. My old room became Michael's, his cot fitting snugly in the one corner while we piled nappies into the cupboard and got a changing station fitted on the other side.

It became home again. We threw a housewarming party and invited everyone we knew. We settled in over the next few months, making minor repairs and improvements as we needed to.

Michael learned how to walk in that house, and even said his first words.

It was bliss. Sometimes we fought, but we'd always sort it out and make up. We had friends over every weekend, and I took Emily on dates and showed her around the town I grew up in.

One night we were fast asleep, one of the rare days when Michael sleeps through the night, when I heard banging coming from the kitchen. I groaned, wondering what the hell Michael has gotten into this time, as I swung myself out of bed and towards the bedroom door. The night before I caught him fist-deep in the cookies, and I still wasn't sure how he managed to do it.

I opened the door and walked into the passage, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I reached for the light switch.

I flicked them on, illuminating the passage in bright light. I squinted my eyes, the sudden shift from darkness causing me to go momentarily blind.

As I opened my eyes, I saw a figure lurch into the passage with me.

My eyes snapped wide as the shape of a man came into view. He was unnaturally tall and skinny, his limbs stretched out and spindly. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I raised my arms up, ready to stand between whoever this was and my family.

The man took another step forward, coming fully into the light. He had sunken, haunted eyes and a face well weathered by the elements. He had a patchy beard that grew in knots that hid half his face, and long, black hair that was knotted and split, reaching down his back.

He stared down at me with haunted, brown eyes. I took a step back, readying myself in case he tried to make a run for me. "Whoever the fuck you are, get the fuck out of my house!" I screamed.

The man cracked a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, as he took another step towards me. "That's no way to treat an old friend."

I took another step back as I processed what he said. Old friend?

A memory flitted to mind. That of a tall, awkward kid with brown eyes.

It's Alistair.

I lowered my arms a bit, as my brain processed this new information. "Alistair? What the fuck happened to you? You've been missing for years!"

I dropped my arms as relief flooded in. Alistair was back. A chapter in my life that I forgot about has finally come to a close. "Hey, man, shit, it's been-"

Suddenly, he ran for me, his spindly arms coming forward and ramming something into my stomach. I felt something pierce my skin as I bent over, the suddenness of the attack taking me by surprise.

I doubled over, ripping the object from my stomach. A needle clattered on the wooden floors, it's contents already dumped into me.

"What the fuck?" I asked him, as my vision began to swim and my limbs became numb.

He stepped over me, making his way towards the bedroom. The room became darker, the faint noise of Michael crying in his room swimming through my mind as Alistair cracked open the door.

I watched as he made his way inside, before the darkness swallowed me up.

I woke up suddenly, my body cold and bruised. I let out a loud groan as I got up from the cold floor, my joints cracking and creaking.

A light haze hung over my mind, as I struggled to form my thoughts. I looked around at my surroundings, my neck stiff as I moved it from side to side.

I was in a damp, dark room. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, and I could hear the drip of a leak in the corner. It was completely bare, the faint glint of light filtering in through large, boarded-up windows.

I made my way to the door. As I lifted my arm to push it open, the sight of my hand gave me pause.

The fingernails were long and cracked, yellowed and unsightly. My hand was clawed, skinny, with open sores dotting its surface.

I took inventory of the rest of me.

"What the fuck?"

I was wearing what looked like rags, half hanging off of my frame. Torn shorts and a shirt that was covered in stains and has been stretched from overuse. My feet were bound in broken shoes, shoelaces tied around them to keep them together.

I touched my face and found a thick, unruly beard. My hair was long and unkempt, tangled and knotted.

Confusion swirled through my head. What the fuck happened?

I pushed open the door, its rusty hinges squealing as it swung outwards. I ran out into the rain, the sounds of the beach coming from close by as I stood in a cracked and dirty parking lot.

I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. I looked behind me and stared at the building, my eyes widening as I recognized it.

The old diner by the beach. It had closed when I was still a kid, and no one brought it afterwards.

I was close to home.

I managed to get my spindly, bruised legs running underneath me, as I made my way back home. The sun was beginning to rise as I made it to my street, my neighbors staring daggers at me as they watched me pass.

As I made my way back to the house, I saw the front door open. My heart lifted as I saw it was Emily, safe and unharmed, walking out with Michael in her arms.

My elation turned to horror as I saw Alistair, hair combed and trimmed, face smooth and with a suit on, walk out behind her and lock the door.

Emily turned to him, saying something to him that I couldn't hear. He let out a light chuckle before leaning in, giving her a kiss.

I marched up to him, my anger boiling over as he turned his head to me. I grabbed him roughly and pushed him against the door, my face going red as he looked at me, shocked.

"What the fuck did you do to me?!" I shouted, spittle flying from my mouth as I bashed him against the door again and again.

"Andy? Is that you?" he asked, shocked.

I smashed him against the door again, as I heard Emily shout behind me. "What the fuck are you doing?! You know this man?!" she asked him.

"Yeah, he's an old friend." Alistair replied. "Hey, man, let's just calm down-"

I punched him in the gut, letting go of him as he crumpled to the floor, with a groan. "Don't fucking talk to her. Don't you dare fucking talk to her. What did you do to me?!"

He sat there for a few seconds, catching his breath. I heard Michael crying behind me, and I turned to make sure he was alright.

Emily was clutching him tightly as she stared at me, anger and hatred set in her beautiful face. I took a step towards Michael, my hand reaching out as I wanted to comfort him.

Emily took a few steps back as she turned Michael away from me, disgust in her eyes.

"Andy, I'm sorry man." said Alistair, as I swung back to look at him again. He was slowly getting back up, his hands up in front of him.

"We searched for you, man. I looked for you for weeks but we didn't find anything." he said, as he took a step closer to me, his hands dropping to his side.

He looked at me sadly, his eyes turning glossy as he stared at my face.

"Your parents spent months looking for you."

"Where did you go?"

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baileyvan · 5 years

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Day 582 Without Answers

Imagine going to sleep every night knowing you have no idea how you are going to feel or act the next day. How much pain am I going to be in? Will I get another migraine due to the tension in my body? Will my emotional state be in disarray just by being alive?

Imagine waking up every morning and the first conscious recognition is the searing nerve pain pulsing through your hands, feet, arms and legs. You peel yourself out of bed, which is getting harder every time, and you stumble to find your medication in hopes that today will be one of the good days where it dulls the pain but not you entirely.

This has become my typical evening and morning routines yet still nothing about it seems normal or controllable. But I don’t want to start this journey on todays problems, but take you back to the beginning. The beginning of the 582 days when things started to fall apart.

It was November 2017, I was extremely busy at work which caused me stress and long work days but I didn’t mind, I was so young and in the beginnings of my newly found career I was willing to push through these long days to get my research done. I noticed that while working I would get these small, almost electrical, pulses through my hands and feet. Didn’t think much of it and pushed on thinking, “maybe it was my posture at work and my normally poor posture in my body.” In about one months time this progressed into my pinky and ring fingers now going numb. And in my profession there is nothing that can be accomplished without the use of your hands. I began getting worried but I just chalked it up to stress and overuse so I spoke with my boss and he tried thinking of things we could do to over come these problems. We had our ergonomics HR person come to evaluate my working posture and make adjustments, didn’t help and the numbness was now spreading further through my hands and the tingling sensations were becoming more intense. This set me off into an almost months long panic attack where all I could focus on were these failings of my body. My mind and body were both out of whack.

So I finally bit the bullet and went to my general practitioner about these issues. It’s not that I didn’t want to see the doctor but I was hoping we could resolve these issues with simple hacks. My GP prescribed me Gabapentin (neurotin) for what he described as a case of peripheral neuropathy, basically nerve death or damage in your peripheral nervous system, but didn’t really give me much else information on what could be going on. But hey I got some meds and maybe it would help! I started taking the medication the next morning, 100mg 3 times per day and let me tell you if you ever need to start this medication, do it on a Friday. Drowsiness is a side effect but the first two days on this medication feels like you have fucking narcolepsy. After the first two days I got my energy back and it was even better than before! The nerve pain was going down but still a dull presence in the background of everything I did and the numbness was less often.

And then the rain hit in January of 2018 and everything fell apart again. It was like the medication couldn’t keep up with the amount of pain I felt. I don’t know what caused what, or what were side effects of other sources of pain but I was now in about a level 8 on the pain scale pain with my neuropathy. It was ranging now from my fingertips to my elbows. My toes to my ankles. The base of my neck through my shoulders. It’s not like any other pain I’ve every experienced, its not like pulling a muscle or getting a cut. The best analogy I could come up with is that it’s like the burning feeling you get when someone gives you an indian burn. You know that thing we did as kids where you place your hands on someones arm and twist the skin in opposite directions? It’s like that but a constant burn throughout those areas I just described. The gabapentin wasn’t sufficient enough so my doctor bumped me up to 300mg 3 times a day. The pain was less but it was a toss up every single day of how bad the pain and numbness would be and it was driving me into a deep (what I now know) depression and anxiety filled state of mind. In January and February of 2018 I called out sick more days than I worked. I laid in bed in pain wondering if it would ever go away and berating myself for all the things I had done that could have caused this. Did I workout too hard for those years? Was my drug use in college what caused this? Am I making everything up and is all of this just in my head? I couldn’t escape these thoughts and I withdrew from a lot of things. From my personal life and friendships, from my work, from my family. Nothing made sense and if I started to talk about it I would just end up in a full blown psychosis of crying and babbling because I had no answers, only frustration with my body and my state of mind.

During this time I also started to notice small differences. I was getting small twitches, in my face usually my left eye and left upper lip. I would get these electrical shocks in my legs when I would lay down at night. I was having an uptick of my migraines (which I will discuss in a separate post cause holy shit I could write a horror novel on my migraines) and now daily constant ocular migraines. The pain in my neck and shoulders (which I now know is spasticity) caused me to purchase new pillows and a new bed to find relief. I had zero motivation to eat or cook and I dropped down to 122lbs, a weight I hadn't seen since my freshman year of high school and I hope to never see again. I was getting word salad (aphasia), placing words in the wrong order as they came out of my mouth or getting stuck on a word and not being able to get my body to say what I was trying to get out. My vision began blurring and I had to get glasses to read or be on the computer. There were so many things happening to my body that I had zero control over and my depression and anxiety had become too much to deal with on my own so they gave me a xanax prescription on top of gabapentin. But I hate the way xanax makes me feel and with my nature of loving drugs I felt like I needed to tread very lightly when taking benzo’s.

This was about the time I realized something was really wrong and I needed to find answers because my outlook on life had become very bleak and my will to make things better was lessening. We were coming up now on Spring and I needed to get my shit together. This is when my GP finally referred me to a neurologist. I do believe I should have been sent sooner, I didn’t actually even get in to see them until August 2018 because of our damn medical system, but I know my GP hasn’t dealt with something like this and so many people would look at me and think “Oh she’s a young healthy presenting adult I’m sure it’s just an emotional thing.” That’s when I learned what a silent disease is and how frustrating it can be. Everything I was experiencing was only viewable by me and I have never felt more scared or alone.

I finally got in to see a neurologist and their first tests were an EMG which studies your nerve conductivity in your body. They stuck needles in my arms and measured the nerves by pulsing them with electrode pads, wasn’t necessarily painful just uncomfortable. They diagnosed me with ulnar neuropathy and ulnar entrapment. Basically the major ulnar nerve that runs from my shoulder to my ring and pinky fingers was being damaged somewhere and that is why I was having so much nerve pain in my arms. They then sent me for my first MRI of my brain and C-spine (the neck portion of your spine) and that was the end of November 2018. Took a few weeks to get the results back and I was eager to see them. They were looking for tumors or lesions in these areas and I knew when my neurologist emailed me telling me she was referring me now to a neurologist who specialized in Multiple Sclerosis that there was something found. I met with the new doctor and she explained to me that they had found an old lesion in my brain that was of decent size. There's a difference between active and non active lesions, from my understanding an old lesions is a site of already de-myelination and an active lesion is a site where your body is actively attacking your myelin sheath and degrading it. So because mine was inactive we had no idea how long it’s been there. She told me it’s a good chance that I am developing MS but that it could also potentially be a lesion caused by something else. What else? Didn’t really elaborate on that.

So I finally started researching MS and I finally felt like I started getting some answers. All of my symptoms are indicative of MS but many other auto-immune diseases can mimic MS so we are currently in the process of ruling out those (things like lupus and types of arthritis) and getting MRI’s completed every six months to see if any new lesions begin forming. I still have very little help in managing the nerve pain, still taking gabapentin and began acupuncture and cupping treatments in Nov 2018 which helps a little.

All of my symptoms are still there and still progressing but until I have a diagnosis I cannot begin any other treatment options. My mental health has gotten somewhat better, I’m in therapy once a week with a psychologist who specializes in chronic illness which has helped me tremendously and I am on a slew of anxiety medications. But every day is still the same, I go to sleep every night wondering if I will make it out of bed the next morning, if I will be able to make it through the work day, and by the middle of every day I am most excited to go home and go back to bed. There are new symptoms and I will talk about those at another time (like jesus I thought fatigue was just about being tired but some days mine is like feeling every cell in your body running at 30% just enough to keep me breathing) but for now I just wanted to share what I have been going through for the last few years. If you are one of my friends or family members, I understand I have been distant and withdrawn from my relationships and for that I am sorry. I appreciate your love and support but it’s hard opening up about this when I have very little answers and a poor frame of mind most days, but thank you for continuing to love and support me through this.

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fashiontrendin-blog · 6 years

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We asked three daughters to pen open letters to their mothers - and they'll give you all the feels

http://fashion-trendin.com/we-asked-three-daughters-to-pen-open-letters-to-their-mothers-and-theyll-give-you-all-the-feels/

We asked three daughters to pen open letters to their mothers - and they'll give you all the feels

As we celebrate the leading ladies in our life on Mother’s Day, we asked three women to pen open letters to their mums. Whether they’re thanking them for supporting them through an illness or raising them to be strong, independent women, they’re sure to pull on your heartstrings.

Laura Hunter pens a heartfelt letter to her mum, who has been there every step of the way since her shock cancer diagnosis

Dear Mumkin,

The moment I heard the words ‘You have breast cancer’ was the moment I started to depend on you more than ever before. We collapsed into each other’s arms and you cried ‘I wish it was me’. But I was thankful it wasn’t.

I sometimes feel selfish about how much you have had to involuntarily endure, because of the very fact that you are my mum, but I know that you would tell me off for thinking like that. Your attitude to coping and supporting me is admirable and words won’t ever justify just how grateful I am.

People tell me that I am an ‘inspiration’ and I often get irritated hearing that, because I don’t have a choice but to face my cancer diagnosis. But you do – and you choose to face it and you choose to help me through it, so really you are the inspiration. You are my inspiration. The memories of my cancer treatment aren’t pleasant, but your presence within them is always comforting. My cancer diagnosis has not only changed my life, but your life, too, and you have held my hand every step of the way.

When I felt as though I could no longer go on with the debilitating pain during treatment, you held me in your arms until I fell asleep. You sacrificed comfortable nights’ sleep, instead snoozing on the sofa and listening out for me if I fell unwell in the night.

When I was crippled with nausea and could barely dress myself, you helped clothe me.

When I was losing my hair and needed help cutting out the matted pieces, you held the scissors.

When I was at my limit of exhaustion and struggled to speak, you were my voice.

When I was admitted to hospital on numerous occasions with neutropenic sepsis, with a 160 minute round trip to visit me, your presence was a constant.

Confronted with the fear of losing your daughter, you faced the unthinkable with a strength that continues to inspire me. You have been there for me every day.

You have given up so much of your time to look after me and you still continue to attend every single medical appointment and scan with me, all while juggling your job as a Paediatric Nurse and helping to care for your disabled mother.

A mother’s role is challenging enough, let alone with the added weight of their child receiving a cancer diagnosis, and all that comes with it. You have been my support and strength for the past 27 years of my life and I hold so much gratitude and love for you, not only as my mother, but as my best friend. And for that reason, amongst so many others, is why you are one incredible superhuman in my eyes, and why I am more than proud to have you as my mother.

All my love and heartfelt thanks,

Laura.

(With thanks to Macmillan cancer care).

Jessica Rach’s letter to her single-parent mother

People say there’s nothing stronger than a bond between a mother and her child.

I disagree. I believe a bond between a single mother and her daughter is among the strongest.

From the moment you sent my father packing back to his tropical island when you were pregnant with me, a special connection began.

Never one to conform, you were a free-spirited hippy feminist, but also a strong, independent career woman. You had emigrated from Germany, so there were no family to help out with child-care, making us closer than ever.

While other parents were doing things the traditional way, you took me on my first backpacking adventure as a baby, travelling with me to Bali to meet my father.

From then on I was joined to your hip – an extension of your adventure-packed life, even taking three weeks out of school to go on a pilgrimage through the Himalayas.

Camping under the stars, experiencing different cultures and food, and being around such a mixed bag of people, taught me life lessons a few weeks in school couldn’t compare to.

Later in life this would be invaluable for me to be accepted by different cultural friendship groups, and eventually jump from HR to TV presenting to journalism. It gave me the ability to adapt, be a chameleon and read people in a way many my age couldn’t.

Your working hours at the BBC included nightshifts and Christmases, which instilled a strong worth ethic in me from a young age. Seeing you so respected by your male peers inspired me to become a tomboy, before growing into a passionate feminist.

You never married, focusing on me and your career, and this was echoed in my attitude growing up, telling peers that ‘marriage was nothing but a piece of paper’, much to their parents’ horror.

You taught me to question everything – not standing up for yourself made you a wimp and the ‘put up and shut up’ attitude was for wallflowers. This got me in trouble at school, but also won me respect from teachers and later at a work compensation case.

You always taught me not to be objectified or judged by looks, but by brains – the same way men are. However, when I got into hair, make-up and racy outfits, our first differences emerged.

But despite our difference in opinion, you always gave me confidence in my appearance. When I wished I was blonde and blue-eyed, you would make me feel special about my unusual mixed heritage appearance. You taught me to embrace my uniqueness, instead of being ashamed of looking different to my peers.

One of your first presents to me was a penknife, then later a toolbox. I knew how to check the fusebox as a pre-teen, but also how to cook and do my own laundry from a young age, getting home from school while you were still at work.

At times it was lonely. Having only a mum while those around me had fathers and large families often make me abnormally scared something would happen to you.

There were awkward moments in class on Father’s Day, but not once did I feel I missed out. I felt lucky I had you all to myself. You were my mum and my dad.

Being just the two of us made our relationship intense when I hit my rebellious teens, and I apologise for the years I pushed you away.

However, your strength and success inspired me to start saving for my own property aged 16, working alongside studying and becoming the first among my peers to buy a flat in London, aged 26.

And you still manage to surprise me. Since hitting my thirties, you’re keen for me to focus on my personal life, and not follow in your footsteps as a single mum.

I wouldn’t change my upbringing for the world, but my attitude has also changed, and while I still harbour many of my 10-year-old beliefs, I’m keen to do things the more traditional way.

From writing you letters on leaves in the playground, to spending my last £1 on you during school trips, to you helping me kick ass when I got made redundant aged 27, and being there when I called you at 2am aged 30 when a long-term relationship broke down, you are – and always will be – my everything, and I would be nowhere near the woman I am today without you.

Laura Osborne, 35, from Lavendon, pens a letter to her business partner and mother, Philippa Symes, 63

Dear mummy,

You have always instilled in me how important it is to have a goal in life, something to focus on and strive for. This was most poignant when we lost your sister, Mel, and then her son was struck by a brain haemorrhage.

I pushed past the tears, and focused on staying strong, like you’d taught me. It was a mournful wake up call. What are we doing with our lives? How can something so precious be gone in a blink? Are we making the most of every moment?

This was the final push we needed. Time was too short and precious.

I loved how we started planning day trips out together, doing things and just living our lives. Why the hell not? We went on a gin tasting course, and that was the start of another incredible journey together. We hatched the idea of creating our own gin, inspired by everything we had been through over all these many years, inspiring others, creating a brand that would reach out and connect with people, creating something powerful.

Everyone else raised eyebrows and thought, ‘Pigs will fly’. We weren’t taken seriously. So we banged our drum louder, we stepped up. We drew strength from the negativity and strived to prove to ourselves – and others – that absolutely anything is possible. Every now and then I would have a reality check, being more practical and down to earth, but every time I met with you or spoke to you, you would pick me up again on that cloud of dreams, driving us forward.

However, it wasn’t a doddle creating our own gin like we thought. It was hard and it was stressful, but it was also so much fun and with our bond being as strong as it is and your never-ending drive to see things through, we did it. For my children, this is a message that you can’t learn from books. They are seeing two strong women running their own business. Two women standing strong, banging that drum and being seen and heard.

When my nine-year-old daughter turned around to me the other day and said, “Mummy I am so excited. Did you know that if you think negatively about something, you will feel sad, and you won’t get a good result. But if you are really positive, and think really good things, then you will do really well and be able to do what you want.” And that, to me, means everything. I believe this comes from the incredible bond I have with you, from her seeing us work as we do together on something so out there and seemingly impossible, but making it possible. This is worth more than anything.

I don’t think I will ever be as courageous as you, as brilliant as you are, as charismatic. I know I have my own qualities that I am proud of, but, my word, I am so unbelievably proud to be your daughter. I am so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, for all you have done, for all you have shown and taught me. You really are one in a million, and I would be lost without you and our incredible adventures together.

“My mother’s accident forced me to be brave”

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ouraidengray4 · 7 years

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How to Manage Your Love-Hate Relationship With Free Office Food

Not in the office. :)

"Oh, maybe I'll take just half..."

My coworkers often announce that they intend to eat "just half" of something. They usually make this pronouncement to no one in particular, while breaking off part of a cookie or bisecting a slice of cake.

Today, however, my colleague held up half a pumpernickel bagel, and started straight-up bagel-shaming herself to me. This was completely unprompted; I hadn’t even said "good morning" to her yet.

"I wasn’t going to have one this morning, but I caved," she said, looking sheepish, like she's expecting judgment.

I've noticed that my coworkers often justify their eating habits, especially around me. The truth is, I couldn't care less what they eat, but I don't love being seen as some Sheriff of Healthiness around the office. I do try to eat healthily, but that’s a choice I make for me, not to make them feel bad about themselves. Still, trying to maintain a healthy lifestyle in an office environment can be strangely difficult.

In my first job after college, I worked in an office that provided free bagels and spreads on Mondays and Fridays. My department even got bagels on Wednesdays too. My coworkers would always get excited whenever there was free pizza, cake, or doughnuts in the kitchen. And despite their regularity, the bagels prompted a super-positive response too. But personally, I dreaded all of it.

Does the office know free cake can spend me down a spiral of self-hate for the whole entire day?

I mean, they may be tasty, but I think we can all agree that bagels aren’t considered part of a clean diet.

Having a healthy lifestyle has always been a priority for me. After college, I had this goal of looking like fitness guru Kayla Itsines. You know, of Sweat with Kayla? She of the most pristine abs ever? Yeah, that was my dream. Three years later, I’m glad to say that I’ve changed my focus to just being and feeling healthy, and I’m just trying to maintain my body instead of constantly trying to slim down.

Regardless of my goals, having access to free unhealthy food five days a week was (and still is) a huge obstacle in my life. In the beginning, especially, it was on my mind every single day when I went into work and faced what I call the paradox of free office food.

Free office food is widely viewed as a nice perk. One survey indicates that employees are much happier in the workplace when free snacks, coffee, and drinks are available; it’s well-known that all the hip tech companies offer free food to their employees; and younger job seekers are widely thought to factor in free food when searching for jobs… even if they’d really prefer a collaborative work environment and increased transparency.