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btsslowburnfic · 4 years

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BTS Reacts-Argument with their S/O- Hyung Line

BTS Angst: Argument with their S/O- Hyung line

TW: infertility

Maknae Line found here

Jin: You sit there crying in the bathroom for the 18th time in 18 months. Every time you get your period is a reminder that you're not pregnant. A year and a half of feeling like your body had failed you and that you had failed your husband and his parents. Of course they don't feel that way, but you do. You rub your eyes and stand up. You don't even have the energy to get up and try to do anything today so you throw on some period panties and crawl back into bed.

The first few months after you and Jin started trying for a baby you shrugged it off as your body adjusting to the new hormone levels after you stopped taking the pill. But then more months went by. And more. At the year mark you made an appointment to see your doctor. She made some recommendations but told you if you two continued to have trouble you would need to see a fertility specialist. So here you were, 6 months later crying in bed and watching Netflix. The silence of your apartment amplified by the lack of baby cries and giggles. You had mentioned the specialist to Jin after you came home from the doctor. He shrugged it off. "We just get to practice more, if it happens, it happens." he kissed your forehead and then the two of you proceeded to make love, the discussion put away for another time.

You hear the door to your apartment open and close. You had forgotten Jin was coming home today from the dorm; days were running together for you lately.

"[Y/N]?" you hear him call out. "are you here?"

You close your laptop and sit it on your nightstand and pretend to be asleep. You hear his footsteps echo through the living room and office and finally, you hear the doorknob turn.

He walks over quietly and sits next to you on the edge of the bed. He gently runs his hand across your back, “Jagiya, wake up. It’s afternoon.”

You acknowledge you're awake but don’t roll over.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” he asks, his voice laced with worry.

You feel fresh tears in your eyes as you roll over to face him. “No. I’m not sick.” you whisper.

You see his face fall as he sees the sadness in your eyes. “Then what’s wrong?” he strokes your face.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” you respond quietly.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” he runs his long fingers through your hair.

“I got my period again. Jin, I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to have a baby.” you start sobbing.

“Oh Jagiya,” he moves into bed next to you and helps you sit up so you can rest against him. “I know this is a hard day for you each month.”

“Each day is hard for me now Jin,” you sob. “Each day in this quiet apartment without a baby. Each time another one of your friend’’s wives gets pregnant even though we’ve been trying longer. I just want us to have a baby.”

“I know [y/n], me too," he says as he holds you.

You cry for several minutes like that and then reach across Jin for a Kleenex. “Jin, I think it’s time to make an appointment to see the specialist.” you say. You feel him stiffen immediately.

“We don’t need that, ” he replies icily.

“Jin, there is clearly something that needs to happen differently. We’ve been trying the same thing for 18 months. There is literally a doctor that helps people have babies.” you turn and face him, your sadness turning into anger.

“We don’t need help. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with me.” he sternly replies.

“It’s not about something being wrong Jin, it’s about doing what it takes for us to have a baby.” you can’t believe you are having this conversation. You shouldn’t have to convince your husband to go to the doctor with you.

Jin rarely gets actually angry but you can tell he is. He has turned away from you, his legs hanging off the bed.

“Well maybe if you weren’t so sad all the time you could get pregnant.” his words cut you to the core.

You snap your head to stare at him. “I swear to God Jin if you don’t unsay what you just said to me I am leaving this apartment. I have tried for 18 months to have a baby even when I used to be happy. Pretending like everything is great won’t suddenly make our eggs and sperm better.”

“If you want to see a doctor to fix what’s wrong with you, you can go ahead and make an appointment. I’m not going .” he says.

You feel your entire body fill with rage.“Fuck you Jin.” You get off the bed and go to the closet, grabbing your carry-on suitcase and you start throwing things into your bag. You walk back into the bedroom, taking underwear and socks out of your dresser.

Jin’s eyes grow wide in shock, suddenly shaken out of his angry stupor. “What are you doing?”

You walk over to the bed and look into his eyes, snatching your laptop and charging cables. “What does it look like? If my husband isn’t willing to help the two of us have a child, to make the small sacrifice of going to a doctor’s appointment with me, then what the fuck am I even doing here?” you ask rhetorically.

“No. You aren’t leaving. You stay here. I’ll go stay at the dorms if you’re angry with me.”

“No,” you counter as you start walking out to the living room. “I’m not staying in this shell of an apartment where we planned on having a family. It’s torture.” You grab your purse and put your shoes on.

Jin looks at you, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.”

“Good.” you respond and walk out the door.

Part two found HERE

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Suga/Yoongi: You keep checking your phone. You had basically lit a fuse earlier and now you were just waiting for the bomb to go off. Still no messages from Yoongi. You sigh nervously and pick at your nails. Suddenly you hear the door open to the apartment. Maybe Yoongi hadn't been to his studio yet and the two of you could talk. "Hey Yoongi! I wasn't expecting you today," you get up to go see him and the second he walks around the corner you can tell that he knows. "Did you change the password to MY fucking studio?" You had practiced this conversation in your head several times since this morning when you went to see Yoongi at Big Hit. He hadn't been home in weeks. They were gone for the tour for 6 months, he saw you for an awkward week and then had gone back to the studio full time. The two of you weren't even roommates at this point, let alone boyfriend and girlfriend. He barely returned your calls or texts. You had resorted to texting Jin to ask if he was OK and he confirmed that his friend was eating and relatively well, but he was locked in his recording studio most of the time. So this morning, while he was at a meeting, you went and changed his passcode. Can't work if you can’t get into your studio. You purse your lips and prepare for the argument. “I did.” He stares at you with hatred in his eyes, his small frame shaking with rage. “Well at least you’re not dumb enough to lie about it. You are the only person, and I mean the only person who I have ever trusted enough to tell my code to and you fucking went behind my back and did that. What the fuck is wrong with you?” “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Weeks. After not seeing you for months. You hardly answer my calls or texts. You never come home. What am I supposed to do?” you plead. “I miss you so much. I love you but I don’t feel like you even exist anymore. It’s like I’m in love with a memory or a ghost.” “Yeah well, I can never fucking trust you again so I guess none of that matters now. If I wanted to see you, don’t you think I’d see you?” he throws back at you. “Wow. Really? Really? Are you serious? So you’re not here because you don’t want to see me?” “Do I look like I’m fucking joking?” he responds. You stand there for a minute, taking in Yoongi standing there. His thin legs, pale skin, and oversized clothes. Once upon a time this was the man you dreamt about spending the rest of your life with, and here you were today wondering how things had gotten so bad. You ask the question even though you don’t want to. “Do you still love me?” “Aish, don’t ask me stupid questions.” he replies looking off to the side. “Answer me Yoongi. Do you still love me?” You wait for what feels like an eternity. No response. “Ok. Cool. Great, Well, you know what? Here is your fucking password,” you grab a pen and write it down: your anniversary. “Don’t worry, the next time you come home in 2 or 6 or 10 fucking months I won’t be here.” You grab your backpack, you’ll come back for the rest of your things later, and you shove the paper into Yoongi’s chest without saying another word. You slam the door closed to your apartment leaving Yoongi alone clutching the piece of paper.

Part 2 found HERE

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RM/Namjoon: 3 years. You had been secretly dating Namjoon for almost three years. And today was the day you were over it. Last night you had brought the topic up one more time. “Namjoon, when can our relationship be public? Our third anniversary is coming up. We’ve met each other’s parents and siblings. What more will it take before you’ll feel comfortable?” Namjoon looked down thoughtfully. “I just want to protect you. Between any crazy fans, the paparazzi, and social media I think it’s best if people don’t know about our relationship.” It was the same line every time. For years. Usually at this point you would drop it, but last night you weren’t about to. “Ok so when will we tell the world? 5 years? 10 years? If we had a kid together, would they also be a secret? Would they not be allowed to see you in public or walk down the street with you?” “Of course not, that’s ridiculous.” “How is it different? If we are in a committed relationship then how is it different?” you challenge him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “It just is.” “It just is? Wow Genius IQ over here has declared it so it must be true. I am sick of feeling like we’re doing something wrong. I feel like I’m a mistress or something when I’m actually your girlfriend who has been living with you for the past 2 years.” “I don’t want to argue with you.” he says as he gets up and tries to leave the room. “I’m not done talking to you about this.” you put your hands on your hips. “Well I am done talking about this. I’m not ready and I think it’s for the best.” “Why do you get to decide?” you ask, increasingly irritated that he won’t even discuss this with you any further. He lets out a heavy sigh, “Look, I love you. I’m committed to you. We have a good life together. Why isn’t that enough?” he says. And it kind of makes sense, but you don’t like being a secret. It makes you feel awful. “Please. I knew who you were when we started dating, I can handle it. Please,” you ask, surprising even yourself at how small and sad your voice sounds. Namjoon just looks at you and goes into the bedroom leaving you alone. ------------ In your sad and angry stupor last night you drank a bottle of wine and then leaked your own photos of you and Namjoon together to a tabloid. Oops. The next afternoon you see an incoming phone call from Namjoon, take a steadying breath, and answer it. “Hey cutie, what’s up?” “Oh I think you know.” he responds angrily. “What? What’s wrong?” you feign ignorance. “I don’t know. Put my name into google and see.” he responds quickly. You do and see several of the pictures you had sent to the tabloid and lots of headlines about his dating life. “BTS RM has found lasting love. Exclusive interview to follow, ‘we’re just so happy!’ girlfriend gushes“ you roll your eyes. You had submitted the photos anonymously, there was no interview promised. “Huh” you say. “Huh? Do you think I’m stupid?” “I mean maybe sometimes but usually you’re--” He cuts you off, “Don’t do that right now. I’m not joking. I am not ok with this. I told you I did not want this to happen and you did it anyways.” You double down on your crazy, “And I told you that I wasn’t ok with us being a secret anymore. So why is what you say final, and what I want tough shit? Huh? You got your way for three years. Let me have my way for the next three. I don’t care if they rip my shitty clothes and thick thighs to shreds.” You hear silence on the line and then slow deep breath. “I am only entertaining this because I love you and because I don’t want them to have to run a break up story, but we are going to talk about this when I get home. I’m still super pissed at you.” “Roger that Mr. Kim,” you respond. “I love you too.”

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JHope/Hoseok: You unlock the door to your apartment. You've been working 12 hours a day six days a week while your husband, Hoseok, was on tour. You walk in and see his shoes in the foyer and a smile instantly spreads across your face. "Hoseok!?! Are you here!?" you toss your work bag down and run into the living room where you see him sitting with a sour expression on his face. You walk over and sit next to him on the couch and give him a squeeze. "I wasn't expecting you until next month! Is everything OK? I'm so happy you're home." He turns and looks at you. "Clearly you weren't expecting me since the house is a fucking mess. There's coffee cups in every room and dishes in the sink. It's disgusting." You unwrap your arms from him. It's true. There were dishes in the sink and cups everywhere. You were a messier person than him and tried hard to conform when he was home. You were going to clean on your day off. You worked 8-8 every day; there wasn't a lot of extra time. You swallowed your pride and decided to apologize. "I'm sorry baby, I know I'm messy. I was going to get it all cleaned up before you got home. I know it grosses you out. Why are you home early?" you take his hand in yours. "I came home to surprise you. We have three days in between our performances so I thought I'd come see you. I wish I hadn't now though." Honestly it would have hurt less if he slapped you in the face. You feel tears threatening to fall but you try and stay calm to salvage this time that he's come home. " Well. I'm happy to see you. Why don't you nap and I'll pick up." you say and stand up, beginning to gather the coffee mugs and cups. He sits there with an angry expression on his face. "I can't believe you just sit here and trash the apartment I bought for you. Do you just sit here all day and make more garbage?" Tears sting your eyes and you turn to face him. "What the fuck dude? The apartment is a mess because I've been working 72 hours a week for the past 4 months so my quotas will be complete and I can take off work to spend time with you when you're home. And just because you make more money than me doesn't mean I don't contribute. I have a job. I pay bills. I work. I'm sorry that the apartment isn't up to your standards sir," you angrily take the mugs to the sink and wash the dishes while fuming. He's sitting in the same spot you left him, holding his head in his hands. "Well there you go. I'll be sure to mop and polish tomorrow morning before I go to work. Now if you'll excuse me." you head back over to the door. "Where are you going?" he asks, his head snapping up. "You said that you regretted coming home to see me, so don't." you pick up your work bag and walk out.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts reactions #bts angst #bts rm x you #bts jin x you #bts suga x you #bts namjoon x reader #bts yoongi x reader #bts hoseok x reader

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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You won a seven nights stay in Paris (Brooke x Vanessa) - Evelyn Bubbles

Howdy y’all it’s me your girl Evelyn, resurfacing of course when another season starts. As always I gotta come up with some ship, so here’s my BrookexVanessa, I have no idea how to call it though. Branjielina? Probably. This is based in canon, I’m gonna use female pronouns and drag names so there’s no confusion. Enjoy! You remember Vanjie being over excited about Brooke Lynn winning the Paris vacation? Well, they went together. And things got complicated.

The problem with winning something it’s always hoping to collect the prize alone, in peace. Especially if that particular prize is really huge. After her best friend had told her he couldn’t come since it was his wedding anniversary, Brooke Lynn Hytes, 32, carefully texted the season eleven groupchat. She wanted to have fun, but also see the monuments, museums, landmarks. Come on, it was Paris after all. Paris. One of her favorite cities. She had been there in the past with her ballet company, but she hadn’t had the time to really see that beautiful place. She was hoping for someone interesting, curious, cheerful, to answer her desperate “Hey, anyone wanna go to Paris?”. Of course Silky was the first one to answer: “Mama’s too booked, sis”. Then a couple of others. A’keria was getting ready for what probably was one of her last pageants. Nina was about to host a new charity event. Plastique probably couldn’t even read. Brooke Lynn was about to turn off the phone and go to Paris all alone, when Vanessa texted her privately.

-Saw the episode? Remember that I was the one who wanted to come with u! -I remember love xx -Then it’s settled. Fully cancelling all my gigs. When is it -After my bday -Like I know when that is, girl -March 10th lol -Cool love that. We’ll get those French cookies sis -I’ll send you the details right now then :) -Can’t wait!!

And then, a profusion of kisses emojis and many many red hearts. Brooke couldn’t believe she had just accepted to go on a 8 days trip in Paris with notoriously batshit crazy Vanessa Vanjie Mateo. She was fun to have around, for sure, and she was also one of her closest friends after the competition, but they’d never travelled together. Although skeptical at first, Brooke smiled. It could’ve been fun.

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This is gonna be a big mess, Brooke thought as soon as Vanessa started running towards her at the JFK airport, New York City. She practically jumped at her neck, showering her with affection. “So nice to see you again girl! I’ve missed your face! You look amazing, these first weeks of fame have done a body good”, she said, tapping on her arm. “Thank you Vanjie. You look fantastic as well”, commented Brooke smiling wide. She loved Vanessa dearly, but she was dragging along what seemed like an entire wardrobe packed into one giant, plus a handbag and a sparkly backpack. Brooke felt all the eyes on them as Vanessa started chatting loudly, catching the attention of a group of girls who eyed them and pointed at them giggling. They’re fans of the show, maybe, Brooke guessed, or maybe they’re just laughing at a loud obnoxious gay couple at the airport ready for their honeymoon. Except for the fact that Vanessa and her weren’t a couple, nor on their honeymoon: they were sharing a price won at a transvestism competition. The usual.

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On the plane, everything went… not as planned. Vanessa didn’t say a word for the whole flight, pleasantly surprising Brooke who was expecting eight hours of non-stop blabbing. Instead, Vanessa fell asleep right away, AirPods in, head propped on a tiny pillow and her soft lips semi-open. Brooke couldn’t help but smile, adjusting herself on the seat and turning on her classical music playlist that she used to listen before bed. The last thing she remembered was the Carmen overture playing, and Vanessa’s sleepy face turning gently towards her. She woke up when the plane landed pretty roughly, shaking both of them in their seats. Vanessa was candidly sleeping with her head resting on Brooke’s shoulder, nuzzled into her neck. “What the fuck was that…!”, Vanessa said, suddenly nervous, that surely want the best wake up call, “A turbulence?”. “You… own… everything…!”, Brooke joked, and Vanessa punched her on the shoulder, “You’re so stupid girl! No but seriously, have we landed like… that was quick!”. “Only because you slept all the way through”. “I needed some rest okay? Making coins every night is hard as shit you know that!”. “I do Vanjielina, I do. Let’s grab our stuff and get the fuck outta here, my legs hurt”.

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“What do y’all mean with ‘My suitcase is still in America?!”. “Yeah, so sorry Mr. Cancel… apparently your suitcase wasn’t embarked… they’ll be delivered to your hotel as soon as possible, unfortunately that won’t be possible until… let me check… four days from now, we’re going through a strike, again, and we won’t have incoming flights for a bit”. “What will I do then? I have no clothes, no shoes, no nothing!”, Vanessa groaned in stress. “Listen, I know this situation sucks, but I’ll be more than happy to lend you my clothes. Also, don’t you have your toothbrush and stuff in your handbag and backpack? You’re gonna survive just fine. And don’t you wanna go do some shopping? We could find some really cute stuff for you to wear these days”. Vanessa looked at Brooke with puppy dog eyes. “Thank you sis… I really need some positivity right now or I’ll have a nervous breakdown”. “It’s nothing Vanjielina. Now let’s give them the b&b address and we can get the fuck outta here. We’re in Paris and I haven’t seen the city yet!”. “You’re right”, said Vanessa smiling as usual, “I’m tired of this shit. Let’s go”.

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The bus from Orly to their b&b in the luxurious XVI arrondisement took forever, but as soon as they arrived they were blown away. The classical Parisian house, just behind the Trocadero, with its characteristical blue roof, round windows and narrow appearance was stunning in the daylight, and its white curtains masked the surely elegant interior from unwanted stares. “On here it says that the owner is a certain Mathieu Pepin…”, Brooke said consulting her receipt on her mail app. “Let’s wake up this motherfucker”. “Wait, Vanjie…”. Too late, Vanessa was already torturing the intercom: “Hello, hi? Someone there? We’re here!”. “Vanessa!”. “What? I wanna go explore!”. “Yeah, but we shouldn’t…”. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it!”. Brooke and Vanessa turnt around, only to face an overenthusiastic blonde guy with curly hair and a light beard all over his chin and jawline. “Miss Vanjie and Brooke Lynn Hytes, in my apartment…! This is a dream come true”. “Oh, hi, I’m Brock, nice to meet you, but you can obviously call me Brooke as you know us from the show”. “Of course I know you two! I’m so happy to have you here, I’d guide you inside personally but I have quite a few things to do. It’s not hard though, the last floor is all yours. Here’s your set of keys. This opens the main door, while this opens the apartment… oh, I’m Mathieu by the way… here’s your WiFi password…”. Brooke giggled, this Mathieu guy seemed kinda all over the place but he owned a flat in one of the most expensive Parisian neighborhoods, he must’ve been someone important. Or at least very rich. “So sorry I have to leave you this soon. Does any of you speak French?”. Vanessa shook her head, while Brooke said: “Kinda… the basics. The very basics. Toronto is not a French speaking area. I studied it in school but…”. “Oh, don’t worry! You’ll survive just fine with just English around here. Have a great staying! Can I be a little indiscreet?”, Mathieu said winking, “I’m so happy the rumors are true! Have fun you lovebirds!”. Then he kissed both of them on the cheeks and rushed away, chatting loudly on the phone in perfect Spanish. “The rumors? Which rumors?”. “I ain’t got no idea girl… let’s get inside this fucker”, Vanessa shrugged, grabbing Brooke’s backpack and bringing it inside. Fortunately, they managed to get inside that tiny elevator, squished and uncomfortable but still, the doors closed. “Looking at it positively, if we still had your suitcase we would’ve had to run this thing twice”, Brooked said jokingly, to cheer Vanessa up. It worked, and she smiled back. They arrived at the apartment, the only one on the last floor. “Oh wow, it’s really fucking big!”, Vanessa exclaimed stealing the keys from Brooke’s hands. “Do you say that very often Vanjie?”. Vanessa gave her the middle finger: “Shut up you whore… and carry your shit inside”. Brooke laughed, following her friend into that beautiful apartment. Light entered the open space softly, waving over the modern furniture, the wooden floor, the white curtains. “This place is stunning! C’mon drag race sponsorship! Okay I gotta explore”, said Vanjie dropping her stuff on the floor and running into the various rooms. “This bathroom is huge!”. “Oh my God look at this kitchen!”. Brooke left her suitcase as well, dropping her bag on one of the huge sofas. “Bitch… you should really come and see this”, Vanessa called her from the last room. It must’ve been the bedroom. Brooke started fantasizing on how beautiful and big their beds must’ve been. Vanessa was blankly staring at one, huge ass bed. A single king sized mattress. “Now I see why that bitch told us he was happy the rumors are true”, said Brooke. They looked at each other in the eyes. “Yeah sis”, Vanessa told her, “They think we’re banging”.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #pining #smut #evelyn bubbles #ywa7nsip #canon compliant #s11 #submission

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tincanspaceship · 6 years

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@elissastillstands asked me to do 21 and 46 but I got both asks at the same time (for some reason) so I just combined them.

21-We'll figure this out.

46-Dance with me.

Words:1313 (ha very unlucky)

Rating:T

send me more milippa/mylvia prompts!

Michael pushed open the door to the bathroom. She let an Andorian in an intricate gown stalk past her. She heard, so faintly she would have missed it had she not turned off the dripping tap, a quiet sniffle. She tapped on the only closed door.

“Are you all right?” She stepped back, almost tripping over the rosy fabric of a scarf that had been discarded.

“Michael? Is that you?”

“Philippa?” Michael yanked the metal knob. The door was unlocked. It fell open a crack. A streak of fluorescent light fell on the pale blue interior. “Can I come in?”

“Go ahead.” Michael shoved the door open and shut it as fast as she'd opened it. Philippa leant against the wall, hunched. Her suit was crumpled, her jacket carelessly piled on the floor. Thick waves of hair fell over her face. “Hey, Michael,” she whispered.

“Philippa!” Michael bounded to her side and brushed Philippa's hair out of her eyes. They were bloodshot and puffy. Tears fell down her cheeks and spilt down to splatter across her shirt. Michael looked horrified. She instinctively pulled Philippa into a crushing embrace, allowing the other woman to rest her head on Michael’s exposed collarbone. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh, forgive silly old me! I've just had a bad day…” she mumbled, appreciating the feel of Michael's skin against hers far too much.

“Philippa, you can't lie to me. I've seen you fall off a thirty foot cliff. And you didn't even frown.” Michael smiled at the memory.

“Michael, I have no problem with hugs, but I need to breathe,” Philippa chuckled, tears still trickling down her cheeks. Michael turned bright red and let go.

“Sorry, Captain.” Philippa tried her best not to stare at Michael, unsuccessfully. Michael was and had always been beautiful, but today she was absolutely gorgeous. Philippa felt blush crawling up her cheeks. She shifted her gaze to an unspecified spot on the wall. Michael tugged at her ruby dress, straightening the V-shaped collar. “I'm assuming you don't want to stay here. We could go back to your quarters?” Philippa smiled and wiped at her eyes.

“That sounds wonderful. I should clean myself up. I need an excuse…” Michael smirked.

“I'll take care of that.” She slipped out of the bathroom. Philippa washed her face as best she could with her hands. Icy water numbed her fingers. She dried herself on the inside of her jacket. Michael burst back in three minutes later, holding a glass of wine, a butter knife, and a red pen.

“Should I be scared?” Philippa joked. Michael grinned.

“Not at all.” She dumped out half the wine into the sink. Michael carefully dismantled the pen and cracked the ink cartridge, pouring it into the remaining liquid. Philippa watched, mesmerised. The end result was a strange colour that closely resembled blood. Michael snatched up the scarf lying on the floor and began to saw at one of the tassels.

“What are you doing?” Philippa questioned, now confused.

“Hush. Do you have any emotional attachment to that shirt?”

“No?”

“Good.” Michael managed to remove one of the dangling pieces of the scarf. She dropped it in the red mixture in front of her. “Let me see your sleeve.” Philippa reluctantly held out her arm. Michael began to cut at the sleeve from the inside, rather awkwardly. She managed to make a jagged hole after what seemed like hours but, in reality, was only a few minutes. “Hold still.”

“Whatever you say,” yawned Philippa. Michael plucked the string out of the glass and stuffed it into the pen’s tip. She assembled the rest of the pen, and, with the precision usually reserved for surgeries and works of art, she painted a scrape across Philippa's forearm. Once she was done, she leant back and admired her work. Philippa raised her arm for a better look. “Impressive. Shall we go?” She smiled.

“Certainly.” Michael poured the glass into the sink. “Leave no evidence.” She slid the butter knife and pen into Philippa's pocket. The wine glass she washed out and left on the sill of the frosted window. They simultaneously left, Philippa clutching her wrist. “If anyone asks, you tripped and hit a table on your way down,” Michael whispered, as if their lives depended on that piece of information. Philippa stifled her laughter.

They made it out of the gala having been stopped six times and having ignored the calls of seventeen various officers. Michael had twisted her ankle in her heels against the uneven ground towards the temporary quarters of her captain. Michael shivered at an unexpected gust of wind, almost dropping her shoes. Philippa pulled her jacket off silently and draped it across Michael's shoulders. The cool twilight air nipped at Michael's bare feet.

“Hey, Mikey, when we get back, do you want to watch a movie? I know you definitely haven't seen some Earth classics.”

“Only if you promise not to call me Mikey ever again,” Michael teased. They arrived at Philippa’s quarters. Philippa punched in her passcode.

“The password’s A-N-G-E-L, if you ever get locked out.” Philippa yanked her suitcase off her bed and dug through it. “I only brought one pair of pyjamas. Do you want them or my off-duty clothes?” Michael blinked.

“I...don't know. I should go clean up my feet, though. I don't want to get dirt everywhere.” Philippa smiled and threw a ball of fabric at Michael's face.

“Go get changed. I'll pick a movie.” Michael slipped into the bathroom and tidied her feet with a towel. She unfolded her clothes and found a standard fleet-issue set of pyjamas that happened to be just a little bit too small. Her sleeves stopped a few centimetres from her wrists and the top of her pants didn't quite meet the hem of her shirt. She barely noticed.

Philippa had cued a movie, having dressed herself in a shirt that proclaimed SHENZHOU and warm leggings.

“I'm sorry they're too small, Michael. The replicators only make food. Speaking of which, ice cream?” Philippa held up a white ceramic bowl. Michael accepted the gift. Philippa curled up under a blanket. “Computer, play video.” Michael picked at her chocolate ice cream through the opening scene. Philippa had finished hers before the movie had started.

“Philippa, you never told me what happened,” Michael said, softly. She stroked the corner of the blanket.

“I guess I didn't. It's just… you know my ex-husband. This would have been our anniversary. His family still hates me for damaging their perfect little Nikos. With my terrible lifestyle,” she spat. “I happened to mention my ex-girlfriend. And after that, now Fleet Command wants me to go through the whole system of bioluminescent alien life-forms.” She groaned. “Tomorrow.”

“Hey, Philippa, we’ll get through this.” Michael grabbed her hand. “Dance with me.” Philippa made a face that was halfway between confused and elated.

“What? Oh, of course.” She tried not to look at the small ribbon of stomach muscle exposed under Michael's shirt. Philippa hopped off the couch. She placed a hand on Michael's waist, slipping her thumb across her stomach. Michael guided Philippa around the room, taking care to avoid stepping on her feet. She circled the sofa before playfully shoving Philippa backwards over the arm. Having accidentally used a little too much momentum, she toppled over too. They landed, Philippa having twisted to lay on top of Michael. Neither made an attempt to move. Philippa did not protest when Michael kissed her, quick and sweet. Instead, she trailed her fingers across the ribbon of skin below her shirt.

“Love you,” Michael mumbled. She kissed Philippa again, this time lingering for quite a lot longer. “This should make our shifts much more interesting.”

“Hopefully.” She left a trail of kisses across Michael's collarbone. “I bet we can sneak at least a few kisses every shift.”

“You’re on.”

#milippa #michael burnham #philippa georgiou #michael x philippa #star trek discovery #discotrek #writing adventures of tin can.tag #elissastillstands #theyre watching the matrix

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Study Points Out 12 ‘Modern Inconveniences’ For Adults

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Study Points Out 12 ‘Modern Inconveniences’ For Adults

Study Points Out 12 ‘Modern Inconveniences’ For Adults Ivanna Quilley Hyderabd040-395603080 October 17, 2019

In this day and age, almost everything is available through the click of a button, a drop of a message, or a Google search away. Gone are the days when you would have to go to a restaurant to get food. Nowadays, you can have dinner, dessert, and a smoothie all delivered to your doorstep without having to disrupt your Netflix bingeing session. The 21st century has really revolutionized life for all of us. And while these appliances have helped simplify life sometimes, they can sometimes be quite infuriating. We have compiled a list of small inconveniences that can prove to be the most annoying. Intrigued? Well then, read on. We promise they are all relatable as hell.

Here’s a list of times when adults face these modern inconveniences:

1. When You Forget Passwords

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There truly is nothing as remarkable as the human brain. It can remember every single lyric to the latest Katy Perry song you heard but forgets important details like your wedding anniversary and the password to your account. Worse still is when it’s an email account you created back in the day whose password you have also forgotten. (UGH)

2. A Slow WiFi Connection

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This is one third world problem that we are all not strangers to. There is nothing more exasperating than having your Netflix binge session interrupted by Mr. Router. Seriously, can he get going, already?

3. Running Out Of Mobile Data

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This one can really sting. In some parallel universe running out of mobile data is the equivalent to a heartbreak. With data gone, you now have to resort to other measures of entertainment. Like reading the ingredients off a shampoo bottle while you poop.

4. Ads That Have No ‘Skip’ Button

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These make twenty-five seconds feel more like twenty-five minutes. And when you have to sit through the same ad twice over, it makes your brain melt from all the pent-up rage!

5. Food Taking Longer Than 30 Minutes To Arrive

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You know how, in movies, wives would stare longingly out of their window waiting for husbands to come back from war? Well, thanks to our delivery partner, we now know what that must feel like. (Seriously man, is he bringing me my pizza or making it?)

6. People Who Call You When You Ask For A Text Message

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Life is hard when your YouTube video gets interrupted by an unwelcome call. The issue could easily be discussed over a few texts and gifs. Now you got to watch your phone ring till they decide to hang up.

7. When Your Phone Dies

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Remember how we spoke about mobile data running out? Well, the only thing more heartbreaking than that is having your phone die out on you. Suddenly those gloomy days without mobile data begin to look like paradise. If low mobile data is one betraying ex, then a low phone battery is the other, and together they join forces to try and kill your vibe.

8. When You Straighten Your Hair, And It Rains

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There really is nothing more humbling than having mother nature turn your sleek salon-worthy hair (that you spent close to an hour working on) into an afro straight from a 90’s music video. Sigh.

9. Cracking Your Phone

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Everyone is a mature adult capable of handling emotions in a sophisticated way until their phone drops. Suddenly, their phone is in pieces and so are they and you’re not sure which to pick up first.

10. Not Having Enough Leg Room In A Journey

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Remembers those precious days you spent in high school, making short people jokes. Well, suddenly they don’t seem so funny when you’re on a road trip and are half considering chopping off your legs because of the lack of legroom.

11. Autocorrect

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Ever been in the middle of a long rant and have auto-correct, correct you. If you have, then you know what we’re talking about. And while it does help in straightening out those silly spelling mistakes, some corrections can make you want to throw your phone out of the tenth story of a building. No one uses ‘ducking’, Autocorrect, no one.

12. Paying Extra For Luggage On A Flight

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This one can get seriously embarrassing and can leave you wanting to climb right into the same overweight suitcase. The problem with this inconvenience is that the embarrassment doesn’t end there. It will leave you with lifelong trauma ensuring you never over pack for a trip ever again.

As frustrating as these inconveniences are, they are all a part of adulthood and can make for some amusing stories. Comment below telling us which modern inconvenience turns you off the most. We would love to hear from you!

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