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deadbydangit · 10 months

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Survivors as parents

Dwight, Meg, Claudette, Steve, Nea, Felix

Dwight

Uh kids? Please stop running. Wait! No, that's dangerous, stop!

Poor Dwight's going to have his hands full.

This man has no confidence and no self esteem.

AKA: he'll be a major push over.

Discipline is going to have to be dealt with by someone else.

The thought of making one of his kids cry because he said something they didn't like?

Oh God he'd start crying.

Those kids would never feel unloved a day in their life.

Dwight let's them know every day how important and amazing they are.

How they'll go onto do great things in life.

He has the strongest ability to build others'confidence.

He loves them more than anything and he makes sure they know that.

Meg

Alright kid, let's get going. No more sitting around the TV.

Where? On a run.

Meg isn't the type to sit idle and do nothing.

Naturally, her kids won't either.

They'll be in sports, but she isn't going to force them to do something they hate.

If they aren't good at sports, try acting or art.

And, hey, not everyone is good at everything.

Also, practice makes perfect. She's going to drive that idea into their head. They're going to be strong willed kids.

Anything if it means they're active.

Meg lost her mom to sickness, and while she can't control anyone's health, she's going to be there for her kids as often and as long as she can.

Claudette

Her kids will feel free to explore any creative and scientific endeavor they choose.

The kids have a great respect for nature as they watch it in the flower garden their mom created.

Why be inside if it's such a lovely day?;

While she'll stress the importance of education, she won't scold them if they're having problems.

She'll help them, or get a tutor. She knows what it was like to struggle in school. How much she felt like a loser.

Her children won't go through that.

Her children will grow up knowing that if they work hard at everything they do, they'll have a mom willing to back them up and support them.

Steve

This man is still, very much, mentally a child.

Guys! Ice cream for breakfast!

Hey kids! Check out this cool rock I found!

Last one to the playground is a rotten egg!

Pillow fight!

Discipline might not be his strongest department.

One thing for sure, his kids will never be bored.

Like, ever.

He's the type of dad that will build his kids a tree house with a tire swing and a slide.

It's not all fun and games though.

He knows he isn't the smartest out there, and wants his kids to do better than he's done.

He is going to need the help of someone who is academically smart.

He really is a great dad though. The type his kids' brag about to all their friends.

Nea

Alright kiddos, let's go painting.

On what? The neighbor's house.

Okay, to be fair, they are assholes.

Type of mom that won't be too upset if her kids draw on the walls in the house.

They're expressing their creative side.

But will get them drawing and coloring supplies.

The wall drawing will stay on the wall. It's a monument to them finding their muse.

If you aren't the best in school, that's okay. As long as you're trying.

Life has so many different paths, pick one.

Nea's a mom who believes in her kids. They'll set out to do great things.

Felix

He's not as loose as some of the others.

He won't be outright furious if they aren't doing well in school.

But he will be disappointed if they aren't trying.

If they're having trouble, he'll help. Asking for help isn't a bad thing. It means you want to improve.

These kids will never have any problems with math. He'll make sure of that.

The kids' friends might even ask Felix for math help.

That's not to say that he isn't caring though.

He'll always let his kids know how proud he is of them, how important they are in his life, how much he loves them.

#dbd x reader #dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd felix #dbd dwight #dbd claudette #dbd survivor #dbd nea #dbd meg #dbd stranger things #steve harrington

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

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Single-Parent!Headcanons

Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, and Bakugo Katsuki

A/N: Inspired by y’all. Enjoy <3

Warnings: fluff overload? one tiny curse word

Kirishima Eijirou:

the day his son was born was both the worst and best day of his life

his wife died upon delivery and he almost fainted when he heard the news, bakugo caught him before he could hit the floor

it took him 24 hours before he could gather the courage to go to the nursery and see his baby. he thought he wouldn’t be able to stomach the reminder of losing the love of his life

but when he held the small boy, who instantly nuzzled into his father’s chest, sighing with relief, kirishima was hooked for life

he just continued to hold his son into his chest and cry until he couldn’t anymore

from that day on, he swore he’d be the best parent he could be for his wife and his child’s sake

bc kiri is such a youthful and loving person, taking care of his son was easy, fun, and rewarding

ofc there were hard days, but it was all worth it when his baby would wake up with an adorable laugh, smiling up at him like he was his entire world

they’re two peas in a pod

he and his son are just the cutest pair

he takes his son everywhere, strapping him on his chest with a baby carrier

you bet your ass he’s taken him on (a safe) patrol around the block

kirishima is the kind of dad that puts his kid in a laundry basket, sits them in front of the tv, and acts out rollercoaster sounds

he lives for that loud laugh of his son’s

blows raspberries into the kid’s stomach whenever he starts getting cranky

his son’s first word was “manly” and kirishima spent the entire day bothering the bakusquad about it

everyone has 12 different copies of the video—y’know...just in case

when he takes his first steps, kiri’s swinging him around the house and giving him so many kisses on his chubby cheeks

when he saw his son had one spiky tooth growing in, he almost drowned from the cuteness

the kid gets himself into a lot of trouble tho. he’s always crawling towards the edge of something and putting his hand in things that could totally cut it off. kiri has a heart attack at least once a week

calls him, “son” “bud” and “buddy”

I hc that even though he’s lively around his dad, his son is very shy with new people and in new environments so school is kind of tough for him

but kirishima is always understanding of his troubles and tries his best to let him know that as long as he’s his son, he’ll always be his biggest supporter

if that doesn’t work, they go buy their fav meats and have a random bbq (kirishima just looks like the bbq dad™️ lmao). that always seems to do the trick

when his son enrolls in U.A., he’s there with a banner, his fav meat, and a bunch of tears when he sends him off

his son wears their matching crocs only to cheer up his dad. nothing else

aka he lowkey likes them but you didn’t hear that from me!

kirishima always has the urge to ft his kid, like, every hour. but he won’t bc he knows he’s busy training to be a hero

but he does send him uplifting snapchat videos from time to time

his son still wonders how in the world his dad even knows about snapchat

he makes sure nobody knows about this

when his son calls him about his insecurities, comparing himself to his classmates, kirishima is right there to lift him up. he also dealed with those same issues and tells his son that even on his worst days, he’s strong for just facing the day and he needs to believe in himself before others can believe in him

the next day, the bakusquad is watching the tournament together

kirishima has manly tears in his eyes as his little boy places second place in the sports festival

bakugo is threatening to kill him if he ruins his shirt

Kaminari Denki:

denki becomes a dad from adopting a pair of four year old twins (one boy, one girl) that were left homeless and without parents after a villain attack

he kinda knew the parents from hero work and felt it was an obligation to at least make sure their children were okay

he wasn’t planning on necessarily adopting them. he was young and inexperienced with children. how could someone like him raise a kid when he could barely raise himself?

but after two visits to the orphanage and seeing how miserable they looked, he couldn’t leave the building without signing the papers

the transition was awkward. the twins were not only traumatized, but distrusting and scared. they didn’t really know kaminari and now he was suddenly their adoptive parent

kaminari tried everything from ice cream, to late night movie snacks, to hide n seek to get them to relax but it wouldn’t work

he almost gave up hope, and thought maybe it was a better idea to take them back to the orphanage. but that was before the night he woke up to them crawling into his bed, scared from the thunder storm that rumbled on outside

kaminari froze, scared that he’d frighten them away with any sudden movement, but he soon relaxed and hugged them close to his chest when they snuggled into his sides. he sleeps with a peaceful mind that night

although, he’s awoken to them bawling their eyes out over the nightmares they had. he panics but takes comfort in how they still grip to his shirt, face in his chest, seeking his comfort

therapy becomes a regular thing after that

kaminari finds more focus in his life

and as those helpful sessions go on, kaminari finds the twins beginning to open up more and more

they all sleep together now bc cuddle piles always scare the bad dreams away

the boy starts asking for kaminari to help him pick out his outfits

and the girl starts asking him about his quirk

it’s small things like that that lead up to things like this:

they’re in the midst of playing tickle monster when they scream with laughter, “stop! stop, daddy, you caught us!”

the twins stare at him in confusion (and slight worry) when he scoops them up and cries like he broke his leg or something

they got two huge scoops of ice cream that night so they don’t question it

dad jokes are a must

he wears typical dad outfits like hawaiian shirts, cargo shorts, and flip flops

he calls them his “little rockstars” and yes, it’s still embarrassing

kaminari is a playful dad who doesn’t really take things too seriously

his children are always laughing at his dumb jokes and are never afraid to talk to him about anything that crosses their minds

although, they won’t talk to him about love interests bc he likes to play match maker

the last time his daughter told him about some girl she was crushing on, she found out she left her a personally signed chargebolt poster for the girl in her name

kaminari called it a little boost in spirit

her brother found it funny

she was horrified

kaminari swears up and down he’s the cool dad. his kids think otherwise, but their friends LOVE how much of a jokester he is. and he lets them stay up at sleepovers

plus, he’s literally chargebolt

how could they not love him?

denki has a little trouble being serious when he needs to be, but he has good kids so it’s not that much of a problem

there was that one time his son tried to help him during a villain attack. even though kaminari ordered him to get to safety, he didn’t and ended up getting hurt

the twins had never seen their father so angry. it was kind of scary. however, in the next moment, he gathered them up in a big hug and made them swear not to scare him like that again

overall, kaminari is the sweet, fun loving, dad that everyone wishes they had

Bakugo Katsuki:

katsuki became a father the day he found a baby and a note at his doorstep

the note read: “surprise! you’re a dad. i gave you all the legal rights, but you can place her up for adoption if you want.”

least to say, bakugo was pissed

he was even more pissed at himself for getting someone so cold and unloving pregnant

however, he decides to put the baby up for adoption. he cant take care of a baby! he’s at the height of his career. he can basically taste the number one hero spot on his tongue

he’s dead set w the decision, but as he stands outside of the orphanage, he freezes. he just can’t move

bakugo looks down at his daughter as she opens her eyes for the first time. he sees an identical pair of red eyes that make his chest tight with a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time

he turns back around and heads back home. it’s easily the best decision he’s ever made in his life

ngl though, growing into the dad role for bakugo was tough

before the girl, he only ever had to think of himself. he was still used to doing everything on his own time and for his own benefit. so being forced to put 100% of his attention to a small helpless human being was not easy

katsuki admits that the first couple of years weren’t his proudest. he was still short tempered, angry with the world, and frustrated bc he felt like his life was ruined

one time, the frustration and sleep deprivation would hit him all at once and he’d just start going off at the baby to just “shut the hell up!” before breaking down and crying with her

it was a dark moment for him, and yet, even after that, his little girl still curled up in his arms to rest when the tears tired her out

it had been a while since he felt unconditional love like that, and so he decided to change for the baby’s sake

you cant tell me that little girl isn’t spoiled rotten

bakugo is a hardass, but he’s all bark no bite. no matter what, he just can’t resist his little girl’s puppy dog eyes

he’s a girl dad to the t

yes he played the princess that needed saving from the big bad dragon. what about it?

his daughter is a firecracker. she started sassing him as soon as she could gargle

he pretends he hates it but his daughter is lowkey funny asl

they go at it when they fight. bakugo’s learned to be a little more patient, but he still has a bit of a temper and it doesn’t mix well when his mini-me has the same explosive anger

is the kind of dad that says sorry by asking her what she wants for dinner

they totally talk mess about other heroes together. he ignores the fact that she admires deku as long as she keeps it to herself

emotional talks are...awkward, but he forces himself through it

she finds it embarrassing (yet oddly endearing) that he got kicked out of a PTA club meeting for threatening to light up some mom for saying the art program didn’t matter

his daughter absolutely won’t talk to him about potential love interests unless she wants them coming up missing

bakugo won’t admit to watching baby videos of his daughter when he sends her off to U.A. and no, he didn’t cry, he got dust in his eye

doesn’t bother her too much, but jumps for his phone when he hears her ringtone

kirishima says he getting soft, but that’s just his little princess

#I had wayyyyy to much fun doing this #all my uwus just BURST out of my heart #imma make my rounds with the other characters soon enough #just something little to warm myself up #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bakugo katsuki #kaminari denki #kirishima eijirou #bnha parent!hcs #bnha single dad’s club tbh #domestic bnha #they cute or whatever #also adoption literally doesnt work like how I wrote it. like #at all #but yall knew that #okay im done #come get yall’s juice

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dewitty1 · 3 years

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Modern Love

tackytiger @tackytigerfic

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks, Teddy Lupin Additional Tags: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Slow Burn, Oblivious Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, idiots to lovers, Politics, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Songfic, Friendship, Found Family, Mentions of Cancer, References to Illness, Chemotherapy, references to canonical child abuse, references to canonical deaths, References to Depression, Drunkenness, Sad Harry Potter, Church Services, Hymns, Atheism, Kissing in Church, Religious Discussion, Light Angst, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Minor Injuries, Blood and Injury, Gay vicar, Original Character(s), Original Character Illness, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Scars, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Minor Draco Malfoy/ Sexy Tall Vicar, Draco Kisses Someone Briefly That’s All I Promise, Magic/Muggle Relations, Jealousy, Family Drama Series: Part 1 of Modern Love

Summary:

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.

Excerpt:

“Do you know,” he says conversationally, “when I was little, my mother used to wash my hair for me.”

“I did not know that,” Harry says gravely. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised. It was always particularly glossy-looking when we were at school.”

The disadvantage of Malfoy being so close, Harry discovers, is that it’s easy for him to find the softest bit of Harry’s tummy to pinch.

“I was actually quite a cosseted child. Spoiled rotten in fact. You may find that astonishing when you consider what a delight I was as a teenager. But my parents were busy people. My father ran the estate, and spent a lot of time in London, of course. So I didn’t see them much in the evenings. The nursery was in its own wing, naturally, and my nanny was very attentive.“

Harry snorts at that, but then thinks about tiny Draco with his face upturned toward Lucius, alight with worship, and feels a bit sad.

"So it was my favourite thing when I was small, having my mother give me a bath. It was always a very special treat. She’d sit on the floor with her sleeves rolled up and the front of her robes would get all wet and foamy from me splashing, but she never minded. And she’d keep spelling the water hot so I could stay in for as long as I wanted.”

Harry can’t imagine it. He vaguely remembers when he was tiny, standing shivering in the Dursleys’ avocado-coloured bath while Petunia sprayed him with tepid water from the shower head, scrubbed him with carbolic soap. And then after a while, she stopped even doing that. Harry used to sneak in and wash when no one noticed, used to pile his clothes in with the rest of the laundry, since he was the one doing it anyway. But he knows that as a child he was probably never all that clean. How did no one ever notice, he wonders, not for the first time. Why did no one care?

“And when I was tired and wanted to get out, she’d turn me around with my back to the edge—” Harry hears the snap of a bottle lid, smells something fresh and sharp, like the crush of sun-hot meadow grass (like Malfoy, he thinks) “—and she’d wash my hair for me.”

Then Malfoy’s hand is on Harry’s hair, and he starts to rub gentle, workmanlike circles from Harry’s crown down to his nape. He pulls his other hand back from around Harry’s body, though he stays close enough that Harry can still feel him against his back, and then he starts to work through Harry’s hair with both hands. His fingers are strong, raising bubbles at Harry’s temples, moving with pure intent through the curls that are flattened and lengthened by water, resting at his nape for a moment, gathering the curls in his fist then releasing them as he lathers, sluices, strokes.

It’s all Harry can do to keep quiet. Having Malfoy touch him like this—having anyone touch him like this—feels like too much. No one has ever laid hands on him like this, with such focus, like he’s the only thing that matters.

And he thinks of Narcissa crying at Andy’s kitchen table all those months ago, and how he had wondered why anyone would want to cry over Malfoy, of all people. How stupid he had been, how stupid and short-sighted, to think that Malfoy was unlovable just because Harry had him all neatly tidied away in his mind, relegated to uselessness by some weird little childhood rivalry.

Malfoy is probably the most lovable person Harry can think of, it turns out—he just hadn’t known it before. And in the end, it was just a case of Malfoy deciding to let Harry love him, that was all. Once Malfoy made that decision, there was nothing Harry could have done.

And now he knows how Narcissa feels, because his eyes are smarting with the sour threat of unshed tears. He wants to cry over arguing with Malfoy, who is one of his best friends and who he’s pretty sure he’d do anything for, and when did that even happen?

Malfoy’s hands are still in Harry’s hair, and the lather is sliding down Harry’s body to puddle at their feet, and he doesn’t think anything has ever felt quite so intimate as the insistent pressure of Malfoy’s fingers on the hidden curves of bone behind Harry’s ears. Malfoy keeps talking.

“She was so gentle with me,” he says. His voice is nearly a whisper, but his mouth is so close to Harry’s ear that every word carries over the water. “She used to say, ‘I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.’”

He tugs his fingers through the lengths of Harry’s hair, lets the water rinse him clean, then lets his hands fall to Harry’s shoulders, his thumbs moving in restless circles over the notches of Harry’s spine.

“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he says again, and it means something different this time—something for the now, rather than an echo of the past—and Harry hadn’t realised how long he’d been waiting to hear that. Usually, taking care of Harry is a duty. And some people hated him for it, and even the people who didn’t ended up getting hurt, dying.

Malfoy says it like it’s easy, like it’s a gift. Like it’s not a chore at all, just a simple pleasure.

Harry lets his head fall back onto Malfoy’s shoulder, so Malfoy’s face fits snug in the curve of Harry’s throat, and Malfoy’s arms drop down to fit around Harry’s waist again. Harry isn’t sure how long they stay there, but the water starts to run cool, and the creaking pipes make a resentful thumping sound when Harry fiddles with the dial to turn the heat up.

“When I came into the shower,” Malfoy murmurs, “I was going to kiss you.”

And Harry’s blood does that dizzying swoop that sometimes happens around Malfoy, only this time it all rushes straight to his wet naked cock, and he’s hard and getting harder at just the thought of a kiss, and he wonders distantly if instead of being mad about Malfoy, he’s just going a bit mad in general. It’s been a while since he’s been with anyone, after all. And it’s been even longer than that again since he’s been with someone he likes so much.

“Only I thought…” Malfoy’s low, amused voice is a torture device this close to his ear. “I thought if I kissed you, we would probably end up fucking, Which… you know. It might not be such a bad thing, to get it out of our systems. Right? And it would probably be really good.”

“Thanks,” Harry says distantly, absurdly.

“For you Potter, because it would be sex with me, please keep up. But then I got in here with you and I ended up talking about my fucking mother to you, telling you things I’ve never told anyone, and I could feel you getting all tense and weird about how those arsehole Muggles of yours never took care of you, let alone that prick Dumbledore who at least was supposed to be one of the good guys.”

He sighs again, moves his face away from where he’s still nuzzling Harry’s neck, and hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder. His arms tighten around Harry’s middle.

“And I remembered that sex is easy. It’s so fucking easy, and because it would be good, it might feel like the right thing to do. But we’ve worked so hard at this, haven’t we? Yeah, I know it’s a horror to have to talk about it, but fuck it. We’re friends now, but it took so long to get here. Have you ever had to work so hard at something before?“

“Well. I mean, I did have to kill Voldemort when I was seventeen?”

“I’m including that, and I’m including your opening waltz at the Yule Ball because that was a study in despair for all concerned, including those of us who had to sit through it. Look, we took a while to get here, is what I’m saying. It probably felt like a terrible idea most of the time we were doing it. God, remember that first time at Fand’s? The first time my friends found out about you? Weasley’s birthday party? But then I didn’t even notice when the you part of it all started being something easy. And if we kiss, we have to figure the whole thing out again. So now I don’t know what to do. Because…” —the ghost of a hot breath against Harry’s ear, and the shivery feeling of Malfoy’s mouth moving close enough to touch Harry’s skin— “… I would really like to kiss you now, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡ོ

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kennythecarrot12 · 5 years

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I’m Leaving

Taken from one of my stories in AO3, maybe someone on this site might enjoy this.

Ever since Jumin and I came back from our honeymoon, I thought everything would change.

I mean, those days left at the resort were heaven. I spent so much time with my husband, it felt like a dream.

….was it?

We got back, and he got triple the work he usually got. Many businesses, contracts, projects, and deadlines were coming up and it felt like I was being pushed aside.

“Jumin, dear, I thought we could go out and see-” I try to say. “Not tonight, MC, I've got to work until late today. The office has been chaotic as of late. I'll be back later.”

And with that, he was gone. It's been this way for months.

I don't think I can live like this.

Because you don't listen to what is so close to you,

Only the outside noise

And I that I'm by your side disappear from your eyes

But… I wasn't helping either.

During his day off, he asked me:

“MC,” I turn to him on the bed. He stared at my eyes. “I was thinking we could go out and look for a new dress for yourself. Seems that you're in need for one.” I narrowed my eyes.

“I already made plans.” He seemed confused. “Which I've already told you. Two days ago.” I turn back to my side of the bed. “I told you I was going out with Yoosung to the park with his cat. You even told me,” I clear my throat. “Alright. Have fun.” I try to imitate his voice.

He only stares at me. I feel his body leave the bed, and I sit up to see where he's going.

He goes to the bathroom and shuts the door. I jump at the sudden noise.

After getting up and dressing up, I see him with his suit on and suitcase in hand.

“I thought it was your day off?” I ask before he heads out the door.

“I have plans now too.” and with that, he leaves before I can answer.

I'm not going to cry and say I don't deserve this,

Because it's probably that I deserve this but-

That day, I decided to cancel my meeting with Yoosung.

“Are you feeling alright, MC? You've never canceled on me… or anyone actually.” he says over the phone.

I sigh. “yeah, sorry Yoosung. I'm just… not in the mood, ya know?” I say. I felt bad for canceling on him but… I couldn't bear myself faking a smile when i felt rotten inside.

“Alright, but call me if anything comes up! You know you can count on me for anything!” I smile and nod, as if he could see me. “you bet.” and with that I hung up.

Jumin has been even more distant from that day on. He left on more overnight trips than usual, almost like he was asking for it.

I usually called Yoosung or Seven when I was feeling down, as they knew how to cheer me up easily. But I stopped calling.

I wanted to leave.

Leave this worthless life, being a wife that is not even loved.

Being a member in the RFA that didn't deserve their friendship.

--But I don't want It,

And that's why I leave

I began thinking about this a lot.

It would be best to leave. Jumin would be better off.

Before I knew it, I was sending letters to each of the RFA members. I thought it would be better to also send little things that remind me of them.

I told Yoosung that I was sorry for this, that I never meant to say goodbye this way. I kept thinking of my last words to him… but I couldn't remember no matter how hard I tried. In his package, I gave him LOLOL plush toys, of his and my avatars.

To Seven… I now knew what it would be like to run away from family. And that I was sorry I was doing it to him again. I wished him happiness. I gave him a cat plush toy with the words “God Seven” sewn into it.

To Zen… I wished him success in his career and that I would be watching him succeed. I truly appreciate him. I gifted him multiple face masks of his favorite and a copy of our first selfie together.

I wrote to Jaehee how I regret not spending as much time with her, as she was always busy because of Jumin. ‘I always begged Jumin to give you days off.’ I gifted her a coffee machine with her favorite type of coffee in it. I also gave her a poster of Zen.

To V…. I actually recorded to him. I knew he was losing his eyesight and was refusing treatment. I gifted him a photograph I took of him with his camera when Jumin and I came over. It was a picture of him looking at the sky.

“Hey, V. I um… I decided to leave. Leave RFA and… to leave Jumin. It's just… not been okay for me. I felt unloved. Lonely. I even…” I chuckled. “I even wanted to escape forever without telling anyone… the only difference here is that I'm saying goodbye.” I inhaled. “You will all hate me for leaving so suddenly, but… I hope you understand, V. You know… knew… Jumin the best. You know how he is,” I smiled. “He is perfect in my eyes…” a tear escaped my eye but I quickly wiped it off my face.

“But even perfection has flaws. I wasn't happy by his side. Don't get me wrong, we were okay for a while but… I was too lonely and too neglected. I just hope you can forgive me.” I give a sad smile and turn off the camera.

I send the tape to V’s home to arrive the day the letters will arrive to the other members.

The last one is Jumin.

Because I know that something better waits for me,

That which sweetens salt, and makes the sun come out

Me, that thought I would never leave you,

that this love was good and for life,

but today I understood that there isn't enough for both of us.

I went to a lawyer and got the divorce papers. It was easy to move around since Jumin was never around.

The bad thing was paying people off to be quiet about my whereabouts.

Except to Driver Kim. He asked where I would like to go, no questions asked. I trusted him.

Eventually, I got home with the papers ready and signed from my part.

I wrote to him now.

“Dear Jumin,

It's been a hard year. You've been away so long, and I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you this in your face, but I knew that once I told you this, you would convince me to stay. I can't do that anymore. On the bed, I left the divorce papers. They're all signed from my side. When you sign them, call my mother and she will pick them up. Please don't try to contact me or tell Seven to locate me… it won't be possible. I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger for you. I'm sorry I didn't have what it takes to be with you. I'm sorry I never gave you a family like you always wanted. I'm sure someone better awaits for you.

Someone that isn't me.

Please take good care of yourself.

P.S. Please take good care of Elizabeth the 3rd, she seems to miss you a lot.

Signed,

I'm not going to cry and say I don't deserve this,

Because it's probably that I deserve this

but I don't want it

so that's why I leave

What a shame but goodbye

I say goodbye to you and I leave

What a shame but goodbye

I say goodbye to you

I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest as I leave the note next to the divorce papers. This wasn't going to be easy. But I need to leave.

To get away.

I pick up my luggage. I leave almost all my clothing, the one Jumin had bought me. I take the one I came into this home with. Mostly consisting of sweaters, leggings, t-shirts, underwear and such.

I inhale deeply as I pet Elizabeth the 3rd. A couple of tears escape.

“I'm sorry… that I'm leaving. If there was a way I could keep you, I would. I know how lonely you'll be here. Same as me… but even worse. You won't have me as company anymore.” Elizabeth purrs and rubs her head on my leg. I exhale.

I leave food and water for her.

A temptation comes from going in my phone. I sigh and log in the RFA chat.

Yoosung, Seven and Zen were in.

MC has entered the chat room.

Yoosung☆: MC! Hi hi hi!

707: MC!!!

707 : SO GLAD YOU'RE HERE!! ☆☆

707 : TELL ZEN HERE THAT CATS ARE THE BEST PLZ

ZEN: *annoyed emoji*

ZEN: There's no point in trying to convince me, I'm allergic lol

MC: hey guys

MC: leave Zen alone lmao he's allergic

ZEN: Finally someone with common sense!!

Yoosung☆: Hey MC you ok?? You haven't been missing your meals have you??

ZEN: Yeah, you have barely logged in this week

707: do u want me to come over?!?!?

707: Jumin is working late today right??? I can keep you company AND see Elly!!!

707: B☆O☆N☆U☆S☆!!

MC: lol I'm ok just tired

MC: and yeah he is working late as usual

MC: but don't worry I'm ok lol

Jumin Han has entered the chat room.

Jumin Han: Hello, MC. Are you and Elizabeth the 3rd doing alright?

MC : yeah.

Jumin Han: I'm glad.

707: ooooooooohhhh!!! Is our heir busy tonight?!?!?!

ZEN: *yet another annoyed emoji*

ZEN: That dude is always busy, I have a feeling MC is always alone;;

Yoosung☆: Yeah… me too.

Jumin Han: Nonsense. She understands I'm busy.

MC: …..

MC: I got to go. It was nice talking to you guys

MC : I love you all

707: awww!!

707 : *hearts emoji*

707: We love you back!!!!

Yoosung☆: have a good day MC! Don't skip meals!

ZEN: call if you need a friend, MC;;

Jumin Han: She has other people she can call other than you, Zen.

MC has left the chatroom.

You didn't realize you had been crying. That was your last chat with them.

You wipe the tears away and leave the phone beside the letter and divorce papers before leaving the penthouse.

You get some looks from people inside the building, as you were carrying luggage.

Once inside Driver Kim’s car, you told him to drive you to the airport. He seemed worried for you.

You smiled at him. “I'm… okay.” He nods and continues driving. Once there, there was no going back.

“Next flight to… New York… leaving in 10 minutes.” that was your call to your new life.

That Night.

Jumin opened the door to his penthouse, noticing how quiet it was.

A sudden ‘meow’ startled him. It was only Elizabeth the 3rd rubbing against his leg.

By now, he would be hearing MC giggling at the TV show she usually watched. But… the house seemed quiet. Too quiet.

“MC?” He asked out loud. “I'm home.” he was met with more silence.

He checked every room until he got in the bedroom.

He saw a couple of papers on the bed and MC’s phone. He looked confused.

Once picking up the papers, his face went white.

“W...What…?” He said to himself.

‘Divorce Documentation’ read at the top.

This wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

He saw how every page was signed by MC.

He then noticed the paper next to those.

It was a letter from MC. He read it, and hasn't realized he was crying. It was not often he cried, but…

He physically felt his heart shatter.

He had driven his wife away from him.

Jumin then grabbed the phone she left behind, to tell him any clue as to where she had gone off to.

Jumin signed on her RFA account.

MC has joined the chat room.

Jaehee Kang: Hello, MC. How are you?

MC: ljkip

Jaehee Kang: MC?

MC has left the chat room.

Jumin couldn't believe this.

He called his chief of security, telling everyone to see or find out where she went.

He spent all night and all day the next day looking for her.

Jumin received a call from Driver Kim.

Jumin answered immediately. “Yes?? Do you know?” there was a pause. “airport?”

He hung up.

He went to his bed, no, -their- bed and cried. She was gone.

What a shame but goodbye

I say goodbye to you and I leave

What a shame but goodbye

I say goodbye….

And I leave.

☆☆☆EXTRA☆☆☆

His phone suddenly started ringing. It was V.

“Jumin… please go to the RFA chat room. Something has happened.” Jumin immediately logs in from his account.

Jumin Han has entered the chat room.

Yoosung☆: Did anyone get a weird package from MC??? I haven't opened it yet

707: …….

ZEN: yeah… I did too. Open it, Yoosung.

Jaehee Kang: So did I…

Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han…..

V: I don't know what to say. She sent me a tape.

Yoosung☆: a tape?? Why you?? I only got a letter T_T

Yoosung☆: oh nvm there's stuff here!!!

V: She was worried I wouldn't be able to read because of my eyesight.

Jumin Han: She gave me divorce papers.

ZEN: ?????!???????

ZEN: what???

Yoosung☆: omg …

707: she's leaving?????

Jumin Han: She already left… she hasn't been in the penthouse since yesterday, around the time she came in last time.

Jaehee Kang: Wait, Mr. Han. Are you sure? She came in last night and wrote random letters and left.

Jumin Han: That was me. I wanted to see with my own eyes that this was her phone and her app.

ZEN: Wait so she's gone?

ZEN: what the HELL did you do Jumin!!?

Jumin Han: …..

Jaehee Kang: Zen… please. Mr. Han must be having a hard time right now. He hasn't come into work all day today.

Yoosung☆: ….. We were supposed to go roller skating next week. How could she leave us like that?

V: She was having a hard time, Yoosung…

Jumin Han: it's all my fault. If I had been home more often to be there for her… I shouldn't have been mean to her.

ZEN: mean??? So you admit to treating her badly????

V: Not in the way you think, Hyun.

ZEN: Then?? What the hell is going on?;;

707: Jumin

Jumin Han: ?

707: I know where she went, but I'm gonna need time to locate her exact spot as she has no cellphone

Jumin Han: Where is she????

Jumin Han: TELL ME!

707: New York, USA

Yoosung☆: …..

ZEN: How did you find out so quickly??

707: She used Jumin’s account to pay for the ticket with card, but it shows she deposited the same amount of money later on on his account in cash

Jaehee Kang: I can only assume that she didn't want to owe Mr. Han any money…

V: Are you going after her, Jumin?

Yoosung☆: Obviously he is!!!!

ZEN: Yeah… He can't just leave her;;

707: idk

Jumin Han: No.

Yoosung☆: ???????

Jumin Han: She left for a reason. I can't change that. She's as stubborn as…

Jumin Han: point is… she doesn't want to be found.

Jumin Han: I'm signing the papers.

Jumin Han has left the chat room.

#mystic messenger #jumin han #jumin x mc #angst

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downtheaxon · 7 years

Text

trigger warning: this is a meditation on the after-effects of sexual assault and relationship violence, featuring explicit discussion of suicidality and self harm. I know I write on these themes a lot, but I feel like this is more raw than usual and something that could potentially hurt a few of you - even if we are close friends, please don’t feel pressured to read it.

reassuring comment added now that I’ve written everything: I’m posting this as an exercise in vulnerability and a cry for comfort. that said, I am safe and feel like I should reassure everyone of that. I am safe and now that this is over I will crochet, eat some soup, and go to two yoga classes. maybe play some piano. writing like this externalizes the heaviness and makes me see it from an outsider’s perspective, which helps me pull out a lot of self-compassion. though I feel this way on some level, I also feel an urgent need to care for myself on other levels, and reach out when in crisis - in short, I am safe but have a lot to process. and processing it publicly like this helps with the shame I feel and will likely help me bring this up in my next therapy phonecall.

I finally have a day off and haven’t written about my mind in a really long while. but, before I write (which may take an hour and my god is it an hour that I need) I will put some salmon on my plate and brew a cup of black cherry tea. let me get back to you.

I’m letting hayley kiyoko’s girls like girls finish playing before I put on my spotify daily mix number 4 (hozier, bon iver, handmouth and more, apparently). there’s a cut grapefruit and salmon and tea near me, and my coffee cup that’s almost finished but has gone a bit cold by now. I don’t know why it is that writing through tumblr makes me express myself most truthfully, more truthfully than if I opened evernote or textedit or wrote on paper or if I spoke to someone directly via voice or text. the liminal space of having no audience while having a vast audience is comforting, I guess. a different kind of false vulnerability coupled with a kind of anonymity.

now that I’ve put on daily mix 4, let me start by saying what I thought to say when I got up to make tea: I am permeated by sadness.

it is exhausting to be permeated by sadness. I feel it at the base of my sternum, stirring gently, right at home in my very core. agitated when something goes wrong, and peacefully present otherwise. this is all a cliche, I know. I know. but lately my sadness feels like its own separate entity, living comfortably in me, and almost harmoniously. it keeps quiet sometimes, which I am grateful for, but still nuzzles into me just to remind me - I’m here and will always be here and that’s ok.

and that’s ok.

I’m trying to make peace with who I am. I know that self-identity shapes perception. I know that thinking of myself as a cook makes me cook more, that thinking of myself as a yogi makes me take advantage of my unlimited classes more, that thinking of myself as mentally ill probably exacerbates symptoms (just think positive!).

I’m trying to make peace with my limitations. my need for regularity in sleep and diet, my rapid exhaustion, my failing memory. my tendency to shut down completely. my readiness to cry when something hits me hard.

when something hits me hard.

I just paused in writing this to read a reference letter that my old volunteer coordinator wrote for a big national scholarship (she emailed it to me as I was writing this). and I cried. I cried at the cognitive dissonance of my brain repeatedly telling me how worthless I am and this person tangibly proving the wonderful things they have to say about me. it’s funny because I really believe that those two people exist at once.

“I love me but I don’t love me back” to paraphrase a post I recently reblogged.

how can I exist as selfish, unloveable, and needing to be hurt punished destroyed when I also exist as compassionate, kindhearted, intelligent, successful, and supportive?

and yet my brain is convinced, convinced, that this is how this works. when I’m tired, I have less energy to devote to silencing the ever-pressing thought of “you don’t deserve to be alive”. I am not suicidal, per se, because I want to be alive. things are really looking up lately, and really working out, and I am involved in exciting initiatives and have mutually cared about wonderful and interesting people and am growing all the time... but I do not feel like I deserve it.

how do I fight for the things I should be fighting for (like scholarships, authorship, opportunities, attention?) when I feel like I don’t deserve to relax, to eat, to laugh.

my homework for therapy for these two weeks was to think about shame. let me say this: I am ashamed to tell anyone how I feel. I am ashamed of these complex feelings of no self worth, I am ashamed of my urge to self destruct, I am ashamed of my shame. I am ashamed to say the truth about how I feel, about what I experience, about how I react.

two weeks ago, at the doctor’s, I cried uncontrollably. and I mean that literally. I cry a lot, maybe once a week, and it’s often dramatic and torrential (and necessary). but these tears were... different somehow. I don’t remember a lot from the winter of 2014, when I spent more of my time awake in flashbacks to the past than in the present, but I suspect that these recent tears were similar to those days.

“that’s not supposed to hurt” the doctor said very kindly very gently and I am on my back crying crying crying unable to see and I barely hear her and I am afraid and ashamed and crying.

“I’m sorry, I have a history” was all I could choke up and she wouldn’t let it go. I know why, I know it’s her training, she needs to make sure it’s ok and not believe me when I say “it’s nothing, it’s fine, I’m ok” she’s supposed to push, to ask, to make me tell her. and I cry, I cry and I make it off the exam table to the chair where she writes my prescription and I cry I cry I cry. I step out of the office, to the lab to drop off the swab for testing (the poor lab tech does not acknowledge I am crying but is clearly uncomfortable), to the bathroom to cry more. fifteen minutes later I am unable to stop and I am hungry and want to go home so I walk through campus, first inside then outside, crying quietly, effortlessly. my face barely moves and tears just go and go and go and it’s raining outside and I keep crying.

I walk home slowly and pick up my prescription close to the house, so nearly an hour has past since I started crying. I am more in control now, thankfully. the pharmacist says, in a whisper as she hands me the prescription “just try not to have relations with anyone” and something breaks more. tears and shame.

this is all a fucking cliche.

I tell my therapist about it a week later, when I call him by the river, but I change the subject right after. we revisit it three times during the hour, always briefly, three sentences. how do I talk about it?

I know that there is so much I don’t remember. I know. the fall of 2013 is a blur of pain and I have recurring visions that I don’t know if they were true. when I am upset and think that I deserve to be hurt, I see myself getting pushed into a wall, right shoulder and bicep first, hip and head next. always the same image. but I don’t think that happened, because I would remember it.

(but what about the gap in my memory after he takes my phone from me?)

I estimate: how many times? first maybe two times a week, by the end every day. does every day count? when did it start being every day? it couldn’t have been every day.

I know when the last times were with certainty. I know the dates and even the times of day. the circumstances. those are clear.

the cliche of talking about this (I don’t call it by the word almost ever I don’t call it by any word sometimes and today is one of those days) almost four years after it happened. over two weeks after my amygdala relived it anew.

I think that’s the real trouble with these things. they feel like they keep happening. first, it wasn’t once. it was at least two times, but probably not more than a few dozen worth. probably. do the math.

(god you’re pathetic, how could you ever let that happen a few dozen times? no one would do that, you must be making it up so that you can have an excuse to feel sorry for yourself)

and since it happened a lot (or didn’t happen at all, I made it up), the memories all muddled together, the fearshame returning all the time... it’s a cliche, I know, I know it’s a cliche, but it feels so recent. it feels like I can’t tell the difference between the act and the memory. the replica is the real thing, the same fearshame (I like putting those words together because that is the thing that feeds my sadness and it is one and the same).

cliche, really.

how do I cure this? how do I stop being stuck and having this on replay again and again and again.

I feel like I’m dishonest with people who don’t know. if someone doesn’t know about this, well, they have the wrong idea about me. they don’t see the rot.

(the feeling of being fundamentally rotten and flawed, shame around who you are, the feeling of being destined to hurt anyone in the end, the feeling of being broken, the feeling of being fundamentally evil, the feeling of imposter syndrome on a greater scale, the feeling of inadequacy, the feeling of deserving this pain and so much more pain, the feeling of deserving getting slammed into a wall right shoulder first)

but I am ashamed. ashamed of the trauma rot pain.

(hasthag bell let’s talk day and pretend that mental health exists in isolation of abuse and flawed power dynamics and people getting profoundly hurt by other people and that if we all just talked more it would go away but talking remains frightening when it’s not self contained in the conventional narrative)

how to combat the sense of “no, you don’t understand, I’m not legitimately ill. I deserve to feel this way. I am doomed to sadness.”

I hate the just world hypothesis, that bad things happen to bad people and good things happen to good people. but I believe it.

and if bad things happened to me, it is because I am bad, and therefore I don’t deserve to be alive. but I am ashamed of that thought because if I say it out loud people will know how bad I am, how rotten, how destroyed, how obsessed with self pity. they will know and they will agree.

how can I be the worst human on earth and trick others into thinking that I am kind, loving, smart, supportive?

it is comical when the mental illness tricks you and you find yourself thinking “well, I couldn’t possibly be worse than hitler” and it says “oh no, trust me, you’re way worse than hitler”. I chuckle but the sadness stirs at the base of my sternum, awake and nuzzling into me.

how do you heal when you remain convinced that you deserve to have your bones broken instead?

#personal #this is not a happy post

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bleuberrygliscor · 7 years

Text

im so tired. im so tired of people defending trump’s actions with ‘well lets wait and see’ or ‘well obama did that too’ and you know what?

impact. Impact vs. intent

Trump’s supporters are evenly divided at this point, people afraid and are succumbing to his fear mongering and nazi/white-supremacists.

Fear mongering people get a ‘Sympathetic acknowledgement’. No, You still suck ass horribly, but i know youre acting this way and supporting him because you feel as if you’ve got no other options. you willingly blocked out all his racist, homophobic, asshattery because he’s the only politician that seems to acknowledge you. And i get that. We have failed you somewhat, overlooked your struggles, but you’ve got to meet us half-way. You cannot expect to have the world bend over backwards for you, to adopt your way of thinking without taking account of others, and neither can we. I understand that its scary, that change is scaring you. But trust me when i say Trump doesnt care about you. Trump will throw you under the bus the minute he feels like he doesnt need you any more. He’s used you to do as he wants, get what he wants, and he’s in the process of throwing you away. He’s working on laws, on executive orders, to repeal healthcare (that many of you need), to validate protester homicide (that can be easily used to pick-off anyone in disagreement with the government), getting rid of lots of regulations for workers and market products (keeping rotten meat from being sold, regulating adequate oxygen in coal mines, keeping poisons out of water-ways and paint on children’s toys). Trump is not working in your best interest, he never was. He noted that you felt unloved and has groomed you to defend his worthless lying ass, and by the time you realize the mistake its too late.... So trump supporters who fell/ is falling for his fear-mongering, i mean you still fucked all the way up but i get it. You are in no way absolved of this mess you’ve made, but i get why you made that shitty decision.

However if you think youre better than someone because youre some sort of demographic or whatever, you can catch these mother fucking hands. There is no redemption. there is no sympathy. You have not only personally waged war against me and other innocent people, youve also roped fearful individuals into your shitstorm, and i cannot let that go. And no, im not limiting it to ‘white people’ because theres tons of non-whites who think due to their race/gender/sexual orientation/religion that they’re better than others. So no. you get no pass, you get no humanity, eat a dick.

#rem rants #im still angry at you. fear mongers. Still not forgiving you for putting your needs ahead of the lives of others.#but i understand why you did it. that dont make it in any way right. you should be ashamed of yourselves.#and you dont get a free forgiveness token for admitting you were wrong. you dont. but good on you for being reasonable

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