#see yall next time i have a mental breakdown

[silicon-puppy-pudding]

I never would have guessed that liking a kids cartoon would lead to me reading a fic where a 14 year old child gets vivisected by his parents cuz they don't believe he's human anymore.

My stomach hurts, but not in a "this is gross, I'm gonna hurl" kinda way. More like a "If I remove pressure from my torso, my guts are gonna spill on the floor in sympathy" kinda way.

#danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom #vivisection au #danny needs a hug #he's only 14 in this one #he cant even talk cuz they drugged him up and cant use his powers #i had to take a break #sobbing #curled up on the floor #about to go back to continue #see yall next time i have a mental breakdown #dc x dp #dp x dc

[wannaeatramyeon]

HIII i just discovered u recently and i love ur writing and acc sm!!! i was wondering if u could do a scenario where in the taehun’s s/o thinks that taehun’s dad is hot (i mean he is the ult dilf esp in manager kim 😩😩😩😩)

Aww ty anon your kind words fuel me, legit cant believe yall like my bs! YES I WOULD LOVE TO AND I COMPLETELY AGREE, HE IS THE BEST DILF

Seong Taehoon x Reader: meeting the DILF

"Is your dad going to be home?"

"How should I know?"

You click your tongue at Taehoon in annoyance. Today is the first time going to his house, you haven't actually met his dad yet despite hanging out at the studio occasionally. This asshole, he could be more considerate of the situation.

"What do you mean you don't know? Meeting a parent is a big deal! Should I have bought a gift?"

Taehoon flicks your forehead in response, "Stop worrying you big nerd, my dad won't care."

You remain unmoved by his front door, arms folded, and a nervous expression adorns your face. In an attempt to pacify, Taehoon snakes his arms around your waist.

"Listen loser, he might not even be in so you're worrying for nothing," he places a kiss atop your head. "Besides, he thinks you're good for me."

It works.

As soon as you enter, you catch Taehoon's dad in the hallway and freeze.

"Hi, you must be Y/N. Taehoon's mentioned a lot about you!" Hansu Seong gives you a smile. You take in his Taekwondo dobok, showing his defined pecs.

Even underneath the loose fit, you could tell that this man is well musculed. You could make out the shape of powerful thighs, and his top straining against buff shoulders and biceps. His sleeves are rolled up revealing strong, vascular forearms. You gulp.

"I haven't said shit, old man," Taehoon's words snap you out of your ogling.

"Don't be so rude to your dad!" you give Taehoon a light slap on the arm before returning the greeting, "Hello Mr. Seong! I can see where Taehoon gets his good looks from!"

Huh. It's also interesting to see where Taehoon gets his fluster from too.

"Oh. Ahem, well thank you, Y/N." Hansu clears his throat, cheeks pink.

Taehoon quickly ushers you away, "We'll be in my room!" and leaves his poor dad still standing there, not quite processing the compliment.

Taehoon slams the door and turns to glare at you.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What?" you throw him a cheeky grin, "Your dad's a DILF!"

It takes a moment for him to realise what you said. You could literally see the cogs whirring and the split-second the understanding dawns on him. Taehoon looked like he was stuck between beating you up or cringing so hard he would die. You think you might have broken him.

"Well you should have told me your dad is hot! I could have prepared myself." You try to defend yourself, poorly.

"Are you kidding me?" Taehoon rubs at his temples, he feels either the world's worst headache coming on or he might be on the verge of a mental breakdown, "Don't think I won't kick you."

"It's a compliment! If that's what I've got to look forward to once you're his age..." you glance at him slyly, weighing up if a kick is worth what comes next-

"...You know. A proper daddy."

Taehoon throws himself on the bed, not wanting to be a part of this world anymore.

#how to fight #viral hit headcanons #how to fight headcanons #how to fight manhwa #how to fight webtoon #viral hit webtoon #viral hit x reader #viral hit manhwa #taehoon seong #taehun seong #seong taehun #seong taehoon #seong taehoon x reader #taehoon x reader #taehun seong x reader #seong taehun x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[evedity]

SO... that new episode.. so we got what we've all been waiting for..

Ruby Rose mental breakdown!

So before yall say it. No Ruby ain't homophobic. She is just jealous that her teammates are happy while she is legit breaking.. I get why she is upset cause she is still literally grieving and at this point (and thanks for the help Jaune...) she only thinks she is a failure. She dosen't see herself deserving of anything now. She can't carry the whole world on her back and she is angry that her pain isn't stopping. Grief makes people angry.. we see that perfectly with Jaune and now we are seeing it with Ruby. She is having trauma responses and to those who are confused about why the others are okay and she isn't let me help. (Unfortunately I've had this issue before) Ruby carries the burden of the world. Even though she has lost so much she has never stopped. Here is the problem with that. Blake and yang had time to unpack and heal from their shared trauma. Ruby never unpacked it at all and it just piled up as the volumes went by. Now she is at a point where it's all spilling out and now she can't stand looking at Cresent rose without going into a panic attack. She sees everyone being happy and the overwhelming feeling of inadequately is making her frustrated. When that builds up you snap... like she did today.

So.. how is she going to get out of it? Personally when I let the trauma bottle up I had to break down and then just flipping let it all out. Honestly Ruby next episode is probably going to just cry and scream. Now does that fix anything? No but it releases the fuse. Ruby needs her team to just be there when that happens. To hug her while she falls apart. Then someone needs to teach her how to deal with that trauma and overcome it. She ain't going to be fine in one episode but her learning techniques for trauma will make her grow sign as a character.

Thanks for listening to my TED talk!

#rwby #blake and yang #ruby rose #rwby spoilers #rwby vol 9 #yang xiao long #bumbleby #whiterose #weiss schnee

[idontreallyknow26]

An argument I've seen on tiktok a lot is that

"Aemond was stupid, he should've known not to fly a war dragon after his nephew on a tiny dragon"

And it's just...not that simple.

You have to take into account that Targaryens, especially Targaryen MEN, are taught and have this belief that their masculinity depends heavily on the fact that you have a dragon. We even see this played out in the series, with the scenes of his brother & the strong boys bullying him for not having a dragon. He then proceeds to go into the dragon pit alone and almost gets burnt alive. In the next scene, we learn that this isn't the first time he's done this.

This, next to the fact that Targaryens are not a communication positive family? There was no one there other than his brother, who was just as in the dark as he was, to tell him that you can't fully control your dragon. Generational trauma in this family along with the inbreeding goes WILD.

And, it's not even just that. That boy is heavily traumatized. Yall just wanna blatantly ignore the fact that he's disabled? He was mutilated in a cave by his cousins and nephews at the age of ten, for something that isn't inherently wrong. In his mind, he wanted to end the bullying and be seen as a rightful member of his family, and it was right there. And he was mutialted for it. He then watched as every person in that room, other than his mother and siblings, blamed him. Told him he needs to be tortured for pointing out the truth, to apologize to the people who mutilated him.

Do you genuinley think that someone who was mutilated at the age of ten, got no justice, is just going to let it go? Keep sweet in the name of family? Dumbest shit I've ever heard. People who don't understand that trauma makes people do things, feel things, that are out of order are so annoying to me. Like no pookie I did not choose to bottle up my emotions until the slightest inconvenience happens and I have a full blown mental breakdown, that's called a TRAUMA RESPONSE.

I can imagine someone who had their eye cut out has pretty bad trauma aswell??

Am I saying what Aemond did was right? No. But he didn't want to kill Lucerys. He wanted his eye, and then he wanted to scare him. Vhagar was only set off after Arrax flamed her, so by your logic, it's literally Lucerys' fault. Why do you expect Aemond to be able to pull around a giant ass dragon...Lucerys could barely do that w Arrax. They aren't dogs you fucking idiots 😭

Anyway posting this rlly old draft for someone on tt hope you enjoy 🦾‼️🦾‼️

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #alicent hightower #hotd aemond #prince aemond #character analysis #tw opinion #🩷🩷🩷 #im still bad at tags sry

[itspdameronthings]

Never Letting You Go Ch9

Summary: Here it is! Another chapter. Lots of stuff happening. Drama, tears ,and new characters!! Cant tell who they are! Hope yall enjoy! since its late my brain is fried to type a proper summary!

Look in William's blue eyes tells everyone in the room he is serious. Santi nods as he goes to pack. That doesnt go well with you. How can he just leave you like that! Need both of them here! Wailed," I need you here! Not going off to be a hero! Will can go alone! Seems like there is some kind of danger. You leave! Can you for once stay put!" Kneeling down in front of your now sitting form. Took your hands into his large ones," I have to baby. Not like before. Want to keep you safe. Have to do this. Not gonna be like before. Have.." Not wanting to hear any of this. Pushed him down rushed into the bathroom. Locked the door. Benny rushed over. Knocking on the door," Baby girl, it's me. Not gonna be alone. I'm here. Never gonna leave ya. Have alot of people in your corner. Remember? Part of a large family now. Come out so I can hold ya in my arms. Pope too. Even ya are pissed at him. If ya like? I can try to reason with him." Listening to what he said was true. You're not alone. At this time you need your husbands. Want to be selfish. Can't Santi see where you are coming from? Want some distraction for your mental trauma.

Gemma arrives to her former home. Looking around. Things look different. House looks modern. From paint to the fixtures. Even the courtyard. Black gates that lead upstairs to your room. Close her eyes and remember the good times. Where you used to play outside. Diane SWlooks out of her kitchen window. Being unterly pissed off. She goes outside yelling," Better get off of my property if you know what's good for your sorry ass. Oh forgot. Ya don't. " Gemma had enough of this. Goes over to Diane ready to fight," Gonna fight me wimp? Ya never can throw a punch to save your life. Such a nice oh so proper girl. Raised to not to fight." Diane had enough. Not much a word from Gemma. Diane slugs her in the face. Knocked her down," Ya were saying? I do know how to hit. Thank my sons for that. Consider that a warning. Now go!" Got up to rub her jaw as she stands up again," oh you want to go down that road? Bring it on!" Shouts coming from outside caused Jack to rush outside . Pulling his wife out of the way. Grunting," Enough! Ya better leave if ya know what is good for ya! This is a private property. Means the house ya called home is mine. Now leave!" Gemma leaves not before yelling" I'll find her! Mark my words! I fucking will!"

An unknown car parked not far from the property. Saw everything that transpired. Took a few pics of Gemm's truck. On the phone. The person replies," Fugitive has been spotted. Call back when I have more to report "

Meanwhile You haven't come out of the bathroom. Others were at wits end on what to do. Shouts from both Will and Santi exorcited, causing Benny to let out a mighty yell, " All of this yellin isn't helping matters! We have a fragile soul in that room that's scared shitless.Which is now our mission to get her out of there. I'm the one to do it." Santi rolls his eyes as he plops into his old, smelly chair. Not wanting to hear that Benny knows you longer than he does. Has more experience in his young age. Will stands next to his friend. Patting the chair," Don't let it get to you man. Sure you have a bond with Sunshine. Something rather special. I remember the story ya told me. This situation is so delicate. Let Benny do his thing.

Benny did his best to finally let him inside the bathroom. Site of your fragile form made him breakdown ,and cry. Hair all wet and mangled from the tears. Practically shaking from all of the crying. All there was to do was lay your head on Benny's lap. All he could do is send some much needed comfort. Rubs your back," Shhhh… baby girl. I'm here. Let me take care of ya okay?" Sniffling at his reply caused you to cry again," All I need is you to hold me baby boy. Can't… go .. out there.. you know… Santi would leave me…."

Benny knows that too.That is how Santi is. Wants to save the day. Protect his family. Hope his brother can talk him out of it. Sounds of your wimper caught his attention again. Looking down to see his fragile baby girl asleep . What he did was to get up,but not to cause you to wake up. Kissed your still damp forehead,” I got ya darlin. No need to worry. Just rest “

" So what's the plan Ironhead? Go over there. Follow her till she screws the hell up?" Santi at this point getting back to his old habit. Not thinking things through. All he wants is to protect his precious Sunshine from a woman he has never met. Does he want to? Will sits on the edge of the messy bed. Rubbing his bearded chin," No, just the opposite. Recon first. Then.. visit the police. Not wanting a fucking repeat of Columbia man! My baby sister is crying on the fucking floor crying all because her husband wants to leave her! I know you want to go ,and play the hero. Not this time okay? Matter of fact. I know a certain sheriff that might help."

Sounds of the door opening caused both men to look at Benny holding you close to him. Santi was ready to rush over to them,but was met by Benny shaking his head,” Not a good idea okay? She needs to rest. Thinkin she might not be ready to see ya .” Santi didn't listen to him. Goes over to rub his finger against your cheek. Taking a deep breath,” Breaks my heart to see her like this… wish … she understands why I have to do this.” Benny lays you down. Covering your body with the blanket that contains both of their soothing scents for comfort. Closed the door . While they can talk downstairs.

Hanna arrived at the Millers . Thought about how long it had been since she was here . Too long. Last time it was for a get together with her parents. Before her mother left. Oh how she missed her. So does her dad. Which doesn't say much. Right now is to chat with the Millers about the run in with Gemma. Jack sees her right before knocking on the door,” Come on in honey. Sit down while I go ,and fetch Diane.” She looked around to see some recent pictures of her friends, Will ,and Benny. Both of them look so happy. Good for them. Sounds of footsteps caused her to shake her head. Diane hugs her,” So happy to see ya hun. I take you have some info to share. “ Clearing her throat as she sits down,” Yes I do. My father wanted to come over,but a situation came up. Seems like this woman in question is wanted for killing a FBI agent in California. Also involved with a bad group of bikers. They deal with illegal gun activities. I'm here to offer y'all some protection. “ The couple wasn't a bit surprised. Gemma was always a bit wild. Even before her husband left. She cheated on him. Just like he cheated on her.

“ So let me get this straight. Will your goin home to do recon alone! Are you nuts?! What would happen if there was a situation ya cant get out of!” Will rolled his eyes. Benny wasn't really listening to the plan . Took a breath,” I'm not going alone. As much as I want Pope to come . Gonna ask Fish to tag along. I know Pope. You want to go. Have to stay. “ Santi nods,” I agree now I see where you are coming from. Still we need another person to help “

Will was about to answer his question when his phone rings. Accepted the call to see who it was. His cousin , Jake Mills.

#triple frontier #benny miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #never letting you go #benny miller #santiago pope garcia #garett hedlund #charlie hunnam #oscar issac

[g-on-ef]

Omg 👁️👄👁️ hell nah 🤯🤯🤯 like I just saw the asks and that's crazy... Like bran going missing for a whole year 🥺🥺🥺 that's gonna put so much of emotional stress on everyone especially lan and I can already see bran having a severe mental breakdown because of that ( maybe worse than lia's) like not seeing any of his family will put one into depression ( like he is already depressed to the point of cutting himself) damn I just know now how much angsty it will get.

And I agree with you, we didn't get to see much bonding among the king siblings and cousins like yeah we know that they are close but it would have been better if we would have gotten to read about that too.

And I know the reunion between the brothers will be so good too . I am now more curious to see who finds Bran first. Now I am just praying for niko so that he can survive.

I can already see protective Levi, but are we also gonna see protective Johnathan and Aiden? In the book Aiden really did threaten niko

I am just so excited for the next chapters of to kidnap a lotus flower

As for born sinner damn that stalker is so crazy man, like to use bran's vulnerability to get to him. If he can go that far then I can't imagine what that stalker will do. I hope niko and lan team up again to save bran.

Also I can't wait to read the mafia arc and the kidnapping arc in the heart was build to break. I am so excited to see how niko will react about the bruises and learning about bran's past on why he harms himself. I also wanna see what actually triggers niko to take bran away and as I can assume here also bran goes missing for a long period of time. I can't wait to read more of this

Also I am excited for your other fics too

Oh honey Bran is gonna be a mess !!! Especially after seeing his brother being beaten down and the state Creighton was in poor baby is gonna have the worst case scenarios with Remi he's gonna be a hot mess.

Be prepared for the water works Bran is gonna have a severe case of depression and he and Niko are gonna be in for one emotional roller coaster that is gonna take a long while to heal especially with Bran and his cutting.

The Kings relationship is gonna play a huge role especially Glyn and Lan I wanna heal this relationship and make it better and I want them both to realize they fucked up Glyn with her willing to understand Kill but not Lan and Lan never giving Glyn a reason that he loved her or even cared about her

Jonathan is gonna be the biggest mess ever !!! Chapter 3 is gonna show how much Bran means to Jonathan but he's also gonna hate himself the most because he can't do anything {I'm so excited for yall to read why he can't and your reactions to it ^^}

Aiden is gonna have PTSD and flashbacks on the time he was kidnapped and left wondering if something bad is happening to his innocent nephew hell the poor man is gonna be a mess when he sees his son and the pain he's in

Niko will survive but will he try kidnapping Bran again after they come back since its gonna be a shit show ... ... ... hmmm 👀

But yes once Lan and Bran are reunited they are gonna be inseparable more on Lans part than Bran ^^

The stalker is gonna be a huge pain and yall are gonna how far he'll go no one is safe not even the girls {spoilers one of the girls ends up badly hurt to the point she ends up in a comoa because bran did something he did not approve of}

That stalker is not one to mess with and niko and lan are about to see the extent this crazy fucker will go ^^

Trust me no one is more excited for this arc than me I can't wait for yall to see the Mafia arc especially when Bran finds out omg I'm not gonna say anything else because I don't wanna spoil it ^^

Can't wait for yall to read the rest of these stories and see your reactions ^^

#sleepless-winter-nights #answered ask #answers ask #questions about my story #born sinner #to kidnap a lotus flower #the heart was build to break #nikobran

[starg1rlie]

if ur fine with it 💍w/scara? my personality is pretty meh imo, im mostly extroverted and very talkative. if i’m honest i’m pretty ambitious with a lot of things and i’m very self disciplined according to my close relatives and friends. also i’m pretty confident in myself but not overly confident to the point i’ll start doing the most stupidest things. i also believe im well organized so i’ll freak tf out if everything is a mess (one time i had a mental breakdown bc i forgot to clean my room before going to school). also i’m pretty rude on a surface level, since i unintentionally insult people right in front of them. though with closer friends im very gentle n kind with them, i’ll show a lot of affection to them even in public. that’s mostly it so now moving to the hobby parts, personally i don’t think i have one? since mostly i’m studying, but if i do have free time i’ll either make plans with friends or play video games. i do have a little talent for the piano, i’m pretty mid at it but i can play a few songs. mostly i don’t have time to explore hobbies since i have extracurricular activities and studying💔 + some stuff wit my personality i forgot to add. whenever i pursue something i’m definitely not gonna take any break until i’m close to achieving it :)

(mb if i didn't pay much attention to your personality traits/hobbies, i was simply busy thinking of little things the two of you would do. i hope i incorporated enough to satisfy you, and make up for how long it took me to push out this post...)

pushing him in a shopping cart

at first, he protests. a lot. but he’ll get into the cart eventually, only because you’d bug him for the next week or so if he didn't. lowkey has to hold onto the side of the cart because you’re definitely going to go zooming down the aisles. he’s the one who grabs the stuff while you’re just having the time of your life. y’all get called out by the employees later but it was worth it :)

helping him paint his nails black bc he's going thru an emo phase

scaramouche does not see the appeal of bright colors. he himself prefers black, white, and grey, which are all simple and monotonous colors. like him/j. which is probably why his wardrobe looks like it went through the black and white snapchat filter. he even paints his nails black, or, well, attempts to. his adoptive little sister, qiqi, paints her nails black as well, because she wants to be like gege too. you end up painting both of their nails some of the time, and then yall post pics of you guys flaunting your nails like "don't mess with the emo bitches."

holding hands on the bus together

since your school is far, and most definitely not walking-distance, your friendly little neighbor (yall live in the same neighborhood) and you end up walking and waiting at the bus stop quite often, unless scaramouche's mom isn't too occupied with her girlfriend to drive him to school. you'll purposely sit next to him, just to piss him off, which works, but he'll take your hand in his anyways. if you breathe a word about it to anyone, though, he'll murder you.

cooking/baking (burning the house down) and failing miserably at it

he takes after his mum (ei), so i wouldn't suggest letting this emo boy within six feet of a stove or oven. of course, you ddin't know how bad it was until the two of you attempted to bake a birthday cake for his sister, qiqi. everything was going smoothly (minus the eggshells in the cake batter) until someone forgot to look after the oven. the cake (obviously) was ruined, burned black and was as hard as a brick. still, you had to make do with what you had, and scaramouche did some pretty decent icing work, even though qiqi refused to eat it, saying it'd break her teeth. another time, the two of you attempted to make a simple stir-fry, and apparently, scaramouche didn't understand that you had to stir slowly and carefully so that the food inside wouldn't spill out...you two ended up cleaning cabbage and chicken off of the stove for the rest of the night.

babysitting his (adoptive) sister qiqi

since ei is often busy at work and with her new girlfriend (pretty woman, her name's yae miko), scaramouche often finds himself looking after qiqi on his own. she doesn't really bug him while he's doing his homework, thankfully, but he does feel a tiny bit bad about leaving her with nothing to do. that's your cue. he'd call you to come over, and the two of you will probably just watch movies, play sorry or monopoly (scaramouche always seems to get bumped back or in jail), and stuff your faces with the chocolate ice cream in the fridge, even though ei specifically said no chocolate for qiqi. but rules were meant to be broken, no? and besides, he had to spoil his little sister some of the time, didn't he?

neat. 👏 freak. 👏 couple.

i swear, yall are a couple of fucking neat freaks (no offense). there ain't a spick of dust or a single pencil out of place in your guys' rooms and it CREEPS. ME. OUT. ahem, anyways. if your room (or his) ended up becoming dirty (which would probably never really happen to you, more on his side anyways), he'd probably help clean it up, but its mostly just you two vibing to the spotify playlist he set up.

he'll listen to you play the piano

whenever he's not busy, he'll pull up a seat next to you and just, quietly watch you play. he never comments about it, but if qiqi is in the same room, she'll clap her hands together slowly. she's actually quite fond of your piano music, and will probably ask you to teach 'gege' so he can teach her.

ngl, you probably insulted him

i'm not even gonna mince words here. you probably insulted him on his first day at your school. "damn, what happened to your horomones?" he glared at you and said that not all guys got the best of the gene pool. your day-to-day interactions with him at school has probably been mostly just you talking down on him and him just shooting insults right back at you 💀

he has to deal with you overworking yourself

he'll find you, laid out on your table, with exam papers spread out under your arms, snoring like a beast (no offense if you don't snore like that, or you don't snore at all-) and will gently place a blanket over you, along with a chaste forehead kiss. "the only reason you get better grades than me is because you overwork yourself so much," he'll murmur under his breath as he quickly finishes off whatever project or homework assignment you'd been working on.

matching bunny hats (yk, the ones w/the floppy ears <33)

he finds them ridiculous at first, but qiqi grew fond of them, and eventually, she was able to get him onboard about it. of course, you have to take a few (a lot of) photos, and even post a cute lil' couples tiktok of the two of you guys' ears flopping up in sync <33

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche genshin impact #wanderer genshin impact #the balladeer #genshin x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #( ﾉ ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ leeo writes!

[bitchkay]

"If I was the court of darkness mc" usually ends with something dissing the mc which I will 9/10 agree with

But let's be real, if I was the mc, if I was actually in that world, in Saligia, in her situation

I either wouldn't take shit seriously, be mentally unstable or a menace to society--

Nah cus you drop me --ploop-- into this new ass world and the first people I see are these mfs, half of them wearing mediocre ass outfits (we're NOT gonna talk about Roy's sleaves-- LYNTS BOOTS- 🤭) and they on my ass bout "who are you", "where you from" WHO ARE YOU⁉️⁉️

Nah yall out here tryna kiss me when I don't even know yall names I'M SWINGING‼SWINGING- FUCK ALL YALL FR--

But on the flip side, imagine I just wake up, don't know where I am, scared cus I don't know where I am, and I'm just approached by literal strangers asking me what's my name, where am I from, how'd I get here, imma start crying- NAH CUS- I'm already confused, more then just lost, literally been transported to a place I know nothing about, and yall crowding me??? trying to interrogate me??? Please back up. No I'm being so serious cus the situation is already an overwhelming one, being an anomaly in a place I'm foreign to, the feeling of being lost, not knowing shit or why it happened, just confused on all levels, and while my mind is already scrabbling cus I was literally transported to another realm yall gonna come up to me like I'm not already having a crisis and start asking me questions??? I will literally have a mental breakdown right then and there. Deadass.

However😏

Shit the mc was like 'this has to he a dream cus ain't no way' imma be like 'bet this a dream? Imma fuck shit up😈' even after confirmation that it isn't a dream imma still act up I'm surrounded by hot guys and pussy tight pussy clean pussy fresh-- the princes fangirls?? I'm either fighting them or entertained like damn I did that, what I do next, I'd have sex with Fenn almost right off the bat just to see what the hype is about, I mean yall bitches so cock drunk over this man you think I wouldn't wanna know why, lemme see what yall talking about, I'D FUCK WITH GUY SO HARD, I talk back. Plain and simple, if he rude imma be rude back, I REFUSE TO SUBMIT, if guy pisses me off one too many times, I'm swinging, prince or not, I'll kick in his testicles, I'd teach Rio curse words and how to use them, I'd take this opportunity to begin my hoe era, no ones safe😈😈

#court of darkness #toa qelsum #fenn luxure #guy avari #lynt akedia #roy invidia #rio voleri #lance ira #voltage inc

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

why i was in the emergency room (TW: hospital/medical stuff, needle talk, mental health)

starting on may 12, i was experiencing nausea and stomach discomfort that i thought was due to anxiety as i tend to get nauseous when anxiety. the 12th was my sister's birthday so we went to dinner; i thought i just got overstimulated in the restaurant (which was slightly crowded)

the next day, i went to *a crowded cosco* with my mom, but didnt get overstimulated. i was nauseous when i got home

my school attendance became a pattern. i struggled with curling a client's hair with the straightener, a friend helped me, then the instructor who will be mentioned again took over and redid the whole thing; sending me home. that next monday, i got into an argument with someone i consider a best friend about the curls. later that day, i went to talk to my director (who i am close with) to ask for a leave of absence so i can address my mental health, physical health, burnout and lack of motivation. i told her what happened with my friend and update her about that instructor; she's aware me and him dont get along. she suggested i talk to him which i did. i asked him if he had a problem with me and he laughed in my face the entire time we talked, which escalated to yelling. *petty donna coming through: if yall want more stories about how me and him dont get along, lmk*

i was having complete breakdowns over my health, crying to my mom at 1am. i asked her to take me to the er on sunday and that's where i went. they gave me an iv with meds, i had a ct scan with contrast, which sucked. i had broken down a number of times in that treatment room. ive learned i dont like the sensation of an iv needle going in, being there, and being removed. ct scan people were very considerate of it being my first time and my anxieties. the guy was helping me with my breathing and helping me up.

i went to see a GI doctor and i would rather not talk about the next appointment i have with that doctor (if you catch my drift)

i havent been able to eat, go out, or even sleep in my own bed. i havent been online much; just watching stuff, playing animal crossing, cross stitching, and on and off crying.

ive cried to my director, my parents, er doctors, er nurses, my therapist, my dog, and to myself. crying is good. crying releases excess stress hormones.

i appreciate everyone that commented or messaged me about what was going on, but i do apologize for not responding. @claymorexpunisher and @rickrude

yall tagging me in and sending me the tomfoolery on here and other platforms has 100% put a smile on my face and i continue to encourage it

i'll *probably* update when i have more answers

with love, d.r.

#donna be talking #personal shit

[berryunho]

LOL sorry omg i really died. like am still dying. i spent all day yesterday crying over my coursework and shit but i talked to that guy and he really knocked some sense into me and told me to not be so hard on myself... so now im crying internally and not externally 😭

ive been thinking about it now and i think i might switch majors for the sake of my sanity bc real talk the amount of work is insane and i cant properly function it's crazy out here idk how people do this... i was thinking maybe health sci since i already have most of the credits for the degree and ive always wanted to be involved in the healthcare field... im gonna see my academic advisor on monday and see what they say because holy guacamole i want to be able to enjoy school w/o crying every time i think about it

omg that got long but those have been my thoughts for the past few days BUT ANYWAY that's so good!!!! im so happy for you big brain energy we love to see it!! ive got a biochem midterm this week (which is the cause of my mental breakdowns BUT KLSJFRG) and ochem is in 2 weeks but as i said might change majors and ochem is not necessary... so i'll prob drop it haha

the last season was so good. i found it a bit slow in the beginning but once it picks up it's going like i could not stop watching it!! i havent watched bcs but i heard it gets better near the end again?? ive watched el camino tho

that's how i felt abt crocheting at first like im the type of person to try something for a little bit and then give up right after but honestly!!! it's so fun because you can make all kinds of different things like clothing, bags, accessories and it's so fun!! i've been picking up knitting too and i've made some socks and i'm working on a sweater rn

WOIEFJWE that man is so wonderful like i feel like he really understands me and !!!!!!!!!!! i feel like he really balances out the "negative" parts/thoughts of me and is so reassuring IM WHIPPED LOL

omg yes i had a bad cold too like a week ago (no covid as well) and i think i might be good now knock on wood!! what a slay im glad your classes are going so well for you! i dont follow hockey (gasp) but i can see the thrill of it!! hopefully they can win the next game!

highly enjoyed the break. have a great weekend too!! <3

-mightychondria

no no no worries lol i totally get being busy and everything <33

but omg :[[ im sorry that school has been so overwhelming and stressful for you aaaaa yeah if its at the point where you're upset everyday and completely overwhelmed and don't like school then i definitely agree w changing your major.... you don't want the rest of your life to be like this lol health science would be interesting for sure !! there are so many ways to be involved in health care and the health system without being a doctor/nurse/etc so im sure you'll be able to find something that works !!

?!*%*$???($*@)? you're taking ochem AND biochem at the same time ?!!?($*@)@ i understand the breakdowns wtf id lose it fr but lol fingers crossed changing your major works out so that you don't have to take that ochem exam

fr i definitely understand why breaking bad is considered like one of the best shows of all time ... the writing was so good and the story was so compelling and even when it got to the point where you were like 'wtf thats sick and messed up' you couldnt stop watching bc you were in so deep lol but !! ive yet to watch el camino ... hmmm

oooo man thats so cool !! you're so right like i always see crochet tutorials on tiktok for like the most random things ever and you can make like. anything. its amazing. hehe maybe ill try it out once i have more free time :]

YAAAYYY FOR THE MAN!! im glad that he's good for you :] its very nice that he's sticking w you through all of your stress and helping you out!! hehe have yall gone on any fun dates or are you just ~talking~ ?

tis the time of year for colds lol this one i think is just about done ... my cough is significantly better today but i can't decide if its actually better or if its just bc i havent been talking today .... lol ig ill see tomorrow! KFLJDSKFJ [gasp] a canadian that doesn't follow hockey ... an incredible find ... hehehe im joking but yes fr hockey is so crazy compared to other sports like even though its kinda like soccer its still so different and sooooo entertaining to me lol ty for the support for my team they definitely need it [muffled through fake coughing] they're bad [more fake coughing]

yay! i hope this week of classes goes better! tyyyy <3 <3 <3

#mightychondria anon #answered

[wakandamama]

Another Euphoria long post about family dynamics! Let's breakdown Gia and Rue's sibling relationship and how this spiral of Rue's has 90% broken it.

This post isnt to say that Rue doesnt have any goodness in her or that she doesnt love Gia or that any true rationing of hatred makes her harm Gia. But it's clear that harm has happens in this relationship and that it is coming solely from Rue. Rue manipulates both her love for Gia and the admiration/hope/love Gia had in her.

In season 1 the first thing Rue does when she get put of Rehab is sprint out to hug Gia.

The first thing Rue does when she is let out the hospital is spots a worried Gia and proceeds to dance down the hallway and hug Gia close then goof in the car all to get Gia smiling up at her.

One of the few times we see Rue truely be uncomfortable about the facts of her addiction and the actions from that is when Ali points out to her about how she tramaized and hurt her sister by ODing and that resulting in Gia be the one to find her.

At the Fair, Rue stood all toes down, not letting the taunting of the twins get to her and takes care of Gia when she get high for the first time. This links with Rue going Big Potectivr Sister Mode and puts Roy in his place for trying to take advantage of Gia at the Halloween party.

This evidence point to the image of a sober Rue on her good days being the best big sister to Gia. Rue adores Gia, literally from the moment the girl was born as we see in this flashback.

Gia achingly longs for that version of her big sisters just as much as she is TRAUMATIZED and haunted by the addict version of Rue who is constantly suicidal.

Gia has always been team Rue, she's never lost sight of wanting her sister healthy, good and sober. What little we see of her, we see her defending Rue agaisnt their mother, defending Rue against the McKay twins, even defending Rue against Rue mental illness.

(It kinda foils with Ashtray. Yall finna get a separate post about that, also check out my breakdown of Ash&Fez anyway~)

The cracks of their relationship have started to show this season and it all starts with Rue's addiction revamping to a more intense state and leading to her doing something very OOC to both out viewer perspective and Gia's perspective by Rue going out to actively hurt and maliciously manipulate Gia.

The moment that is the beginning of the end is when Rue set up Gia with that weedstory as a fail safe for is she gets caught high. Making Gia a target of blame if she gets caught by their mom

Over the course of the episode you can physically see the empathy and motivations to support Rue from Gia slowly turn off. That dead look Gia gives Leslie at the last car scene is critical to the point.

Gia has: heard her sister cycle through all the excuses and emotional manipulation she used on her with their mother in rapid sucession, watched Rue trigger the blame game failsafe on her about being caught, watched Rue tear apart Gia's room with no regard to her, Gia physically and emotionally being forced out of the conversation once again, Rue physically hurting her AGAIN.

That last outburst of Gia screaming for Rue in traffic was it.

Gia is done.

Akin to how Ali's youngest daughter despised him. Any hope for that sober and happy version she glimpsed from Rue is gone. Too much has happen at once for Gia to keep holding onto it.

I know we saw in the next trailer the scene of them sleeping in the bed. While Rue was looking at Gia with all this care and sorry. Gia just ignored her looks. She know her sister will just manipulate her.

I predicted that Gia will just be going through motions with Rue from now on. Rue will lose one of the core people who supports and loves her unconditionally. Especially after Gia learned that their dad was really the only one's love that mattered to Rue.

This is a side effect of Gia having to fight interbattles with Rue and that Gia isnt physically fighting a problem she can only offer rationality and constant support. When Leslie and Rue fought in S1 Gia had to get in between and offer rationality about Rue's behavior to their mom.

Its Gia who remind Leslie about how Rue's mistreated mental issues need to be address to help Rue.

Its Gia who see that Rue being in love with Jules may be a fix to Rue staying Sober and tells Lexi (and Jules did have Rue sober for a good chunk of time let's not forget!)

The moment Roy disrespected Rue Gia got up and left them.

Gia makes herself and her room a space Rue can come into and just be a person in. We see this in episode one when Rue waltz in and just collapses into her little sister. Gia never starts an argument or brings up issues with Rue addiction/soberit.

(Any fight the sister have Rue starts. Gia even tried to level fights or shut downs and takes the brunt of Rue)

I thinks she makes a deliberate point to do that to counter Leslie constantly bring up Rue addiction journey with Rue.

Its that part that left her vulnerable to Rue manipulating her with the Weed cover story. Rue manipulated the trama of Gia finding her half dead to make Gia comes to her and swear a secrecy to not tell their mama about Rue getting high again

Gia has realized that one of the main ways she supports Rue was used against her to hurt her. Rue is not against physical and emotionally hurting her.

Also think of the neglect Gia must face due to Leslie having to constantly pour all their resources and emotional support into Rue and how even that isnt enough. Gia also has the added pressure of not fucking up.

Rue points this out this episode by saying Gia HAS to compensate for both of them (Gia you gotta be a doctor or astronaut so mom doesnt see how much of a fuck up she it)

Gia is most likely not allowed to slip up without major repercussions. Lesile is sitting there waiting in fear for Gia yo turn into Rue. When Rue is in the right state she fights so Gia doesnt end up like her. Gia is living in a house that is constantly tense waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Gia is a good supportive sister and Rue is about to lose her. It maybe the faults of how her addiction and mental illness effect her but reasoning is not an excuse.

Gia is realizing she doesn't want to nor deserves to be hurt by loving Rue anymore.

#Euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria fandom #Gia #gia bennett #Rue #rue bennett #Zendaya #storm reid #sibling dynamics #sibling talk #leslie bennett

[sningo-prompts]

"Emmet having to pretend Ingo is just his pokemon while they're in the pokecenter drives him up the wall"

Ok but at least he's there for food poisoning, if he ever gets stuck there for a few days for non-food related reasons it'd be worse. If they think he's a pokemon, they'd probably give him standard pokemon food. As in kibble. From a bowl on the floor.

Oh lord ok ok calm down we got this its fine im fine. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THAT WOULD DO TO THE MAN????? ok ok im not fine im not.

But lord help him. Ok ok breathe. I can do this. “Prompts user has a mental breakdown at the idea of mentally scaring a man”

So i dont care why Ingo is at the center so im not doing set up today. But he has to stay there over night. Emmet is not ok. They wont let him stay too. Rude. So since Ingo is tectonically a wild pokemon he has to stay out the whole time. Have yall ever been to a vet??? Have you seen the small small small “kennels” they keep them in??? Ingo spending the night in one of those. Ok if you havent seen one imagine what they keep the cats in at pet stores. They are very small. Ingo doesnt do well in cages. But hes ok he knows where he his. Its what happens next that makes his stomach drop. The nurse comes by to feed everyone. She opens the door, pours a scoop of dry pokemon food in his bowl. She gives him a pet on the head “time to eat up little guy” he hates it. She closes the door and move on. Great im writing set up. Which i said i WOULD DO DAMN IT. Im ditching this. New set up move over

~~~~ moving over for new set up~~~~

Emmet and Ingo had been at the center all night. It was morning and Emmet left to see if he could find them something to eat. They hadnt eaten since the day befors breakfast. While hes gona a nurse comes in and hears Ingos stomach growl. She giggles at him. And leaves only to come back with two silver bowls. She places them on the floor. Pours a water bottle in one and pokemon food in the other. Ingo just looks at her confused. “Oh srent your adorable” she walks up to him pets his head then picks him up under the arms. His stomach growls agAin. She giggles at him again. “Lets get you something to eat shall we.” And moves to the side of the room. She sets Ingo down on the floor infront of the bowls. Then it clicks for him. She wants him to eat. Oh. Hes shaking. More like trembling. She leaves him (ok yall might think thats lazy of her but i had a dog sho would not eat with A stranger in the room)

He just sits there. Lost. His mind derailed. ‘I am Ingo i am human. I am Ingo i am humAN’ uh oh. What if he never gets his old body back. What hes stuck like this for the rest of his day. Oh boy What if Emmet gives up on him. This is his life now. Hes not even a person anymore. He cant do this. But then again he cant do anything. Hes a pokemon. No thats not right he is Ingo and he is Human. He stands there. Looking at the bowls. And what they mean. He doesnt know when the tears started falling. He doesnt think about that. His mind is lost on a track that just circles back around and around. He is Ingo and he is human.

Like five minutes later Emmet walks in loudly. Mild panic at not seeing Ingo right away. Frantically looks around. Sees his brother with his back to him looking st something on the floor. “Ingo?” Oh Ingo snaps back to reality(woop there goes gravity) slowly turning his head to face his brother. He has to look so high to meet Emmets gaze. That isnt helping. Emmet is just shocked at his brothers face. Then he sees why. Two silver bowls sit on the floor at his brothers feet. Emmet angry. “I am Emmet. You are Ingo My brother!” Ingo just looks down. Emmet walks up to him, kneels down to be face to face with Ingo. He places his hands on Ingos shoulders. “You are my brother. You are not some pet Ingo. You are human!” Ah Emmet said it. Exactly what Ingo needed to hear. A rush of a hug. Emmet just holds him. He knows his brother is struggling with this. Ingo faces his humanity everyday. If Emmet has to keep reminding Ingo hes still human than so be it. At least he feels like Ingo believes him.

Ok ok i kinda lost it. I know crap job. But like as i was going i forgot the angst. And why eating off. The floor from a bowl would kill the man. But i tried to round it back i just couldnt get it right. The idea of this kills me though. Poor fucking Ingo. The humiliation of it all. Maybe the shame? Idk but our lilman is having his midlife crisis. Idk the actual word for it.

#sneasel ingo #transfer error au #sneasel ingo au #liz answers #poorly i might ad

[julemmaes]

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin month day five #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic

[ajkal2]

the essay: childhood trauma, responsibility, and tma. part 1: jon

in a tma fic i published like six months ago, i left an authors note that promised an essay on jon and tim’s trauma to anyone who asked. several people asked, and so here i am!

the fic is called a deeply annoying child. it’s about being a kid and seeing something horrible, and it’s about jon and tim’s rocky relationship. 

this post isn’t actually about the fic. it’s a breakdown of jon’s mental state through s1-3. im going to make another post about tim, and then a final one linking it all back to the fic. i’ll chuck links to those on here when they’re posted!

but first, let’s talk about my boy, JON ‘JARCHIVIST’ SIMS.  

(fair warning- this isn’t a fully backed up meta post, it’s my interpretation of canon. any thoughts/queries/additions welcome! my askbox is always open <3) 

part o: a note on guilt

hey, you know what’s fucked up? an eight-year-old kid with survivors guilt. 

as a child, jon watched someone he knew die, due to circumstances that, while they were not his fault, were set in motion by his actions. children (and often teens!) think in black-and-white. complex logic often just doesn’t occur to them.  jon, at 8, looks at what happened, and says that’s my fault. i did that. jon didn’t like his bully, and wanted him to go away, and then he did. that instinctive reaction is something i think he never grows out of. when you already hate yourself, it’s easy to pile more fuel onto that flame.  he doesn’t think about risk, not to him, because he deserves whatever happens. he let someone die. he doesn’t ever forgive himself for that.

part i: belief (precanon+s1)

now, i have a headcanon about why jon doesn’t believe statement givers, and imma lay it all out for you right here. 

when jon was 8, and freshly traumatised, i think he tried to tell someone what happened. beneath all the layers, jon is compassionate, and tries to help people. now, picture this. a kid, one with a history of troubled behaviour and an atypical home life, goes up to someone (a police officer, his carer, a teacher) and tells them a giant spider ate someone. what’s that person, someone who is a rational adult, someone who doesn’t believe in silly things, going to say back? are they going to believe that kid? 

no. no way. they’re going to tell that kid that they’re making up stories, that they had a nightmare, that they should stop making jokes about someone who actually disappeared, jon, you need to be more sensitive about these things. 

now, that kind of dissonance- ‘this did happen, it was real’ and ‘everyone i talk to is telling me it’s not real’- is hard on adults. to a kid? devastating. 

jon, because he’s jon, would have been desperately searching for a way to explain this, and i think the thing he grabs on to is evidence. if he had some evidence of what happened, if he could prove what happened, people would believe him.*

but he doesn’t have evidence. and he resents that, and he resents that so much that by the time he’s an adult he’s settled into a mindset towards the supernatural somewhat akin to ‘i didn’t get believed, but you think you should be believed? what’s so good about you? you think you’re better than me?** fuck you! i don’t believe you!’   this is also a way of keeping himself safe. if the monsters aren’t real, they can’t hurt him.

and then, through s1, that mindset is chipped at. the statement givers start being real people, who come into jon’s office and cry when he dismisses them, and that clearly makes him uncomfortable. martin gives his statement, and martin has evidence. jon knows martin, and knows that he’s a good person, so martin having evidence isn’t likely to be an attack at jon. 

jane prentiss attacks the institute, and then suddenly jon’s shield of denial and anger is ripped away, because the monsters are real, and they can hurt him. 

*would they? i don’t know. people can be very attached to believing that the world is good, and kids are misguided, and there are a hundred thousand ways to explain away a piece of evidence, as jon comes to know well. 

** this ties into jon’s self hatred, as people saying they are better than him kicks him right in the Issues. 

part ii: paranoia (s2)

after prentiss attacks, jon is left floundering. his old I Do Not See It mindset has been smashed to pieces, and underneath all the trauma he’s been brutally suppressing is bubbling up. jon has no real experience in judging threats, because for the last 20 years he’s been burying his head in the sand and yelling he can’t see any threats. so he overcompensates, and assumes everything is a threat. his experience re:not being believed tells him that everyone around him is stupid and wrong and the only person he can rely on is himself.  

so he investigates. he’s convinced that his life is in imminent danger, that everyone around him is plotting to kill him. he doesn’t hold back, because you don’t hold back in a life-or-death scenario.  he knows something is wrong. something is very wrong. he’s sure it’s a threat to him, a threat to his life. but he can’t put a finger on what it is.

this is when his friendship with tim breaks down. i’ll talk about tim in a minute. 

jon spirals, and obsesses, and wrings answers out of the ether until it all falls together. he understands what is wrong, that it’s sasha that wants him dead. or, well, not sasha. he’s been winding up tighter and tighter all series, and he lets loose by striking out, acting for once instead of reacting. it is remarkably easy to buy an axe in central london, after all.

and then, well, that doesn’t go well. 

 part iii: desperation (s3)

after what jon did backfired so badly, he goes to georgie, because he has no other option. and he thinks, what went wrong? and the answer he comes up with is i didn’t know enough.* that’s why it all went wrong, because he didn’t know what he was dealing with. and so the solution is to find out more.

he’s starting to realise that he’s changing.** he wants to find out more about that as well, to control it. 

so he goes and finds out more. or, tries to. he doesn’t have many leads.*** jon is not good at judging threat, and doesn’t know the danger he is putting himself in. he’s stubborn, and locked onto getting more knowledge like a dog and a bone.****

and then he does get more knowledge, but it’s the knowledge that the world is ending, and he’s the only one who can fix it.***** he can’t process his trauma. he doesn’t have time. the world is ending. 

in late s3, jon is desperate. he’s overworking himself. he feels alone: daisy’s at his throat, elias is dangling information over his head, tim... 

we’ll talk about tim later. 

basira doesn’t trust him, georgie isn’t happy with him, melanie’s never liked him. he gets kidnapped for a month, and no one notices. the only person jon has firmly in his corner is martin.****** and he doesn’t have time to talk to martin, because he’s getting kidnapped, and jetting across the world chasing shadows, and desperately, desperately trying not to fuck everything up again. 

and he doesn’t! they build a plan. it’s dangerous, sure, but jon doesn’t even know what that means anymore. his whole life is dangerous. jon going into the unknowing is cautiously, waveringly hopeful. maybe this time it won’t go wrong. this time they know what to do, they know what they’re dealing with. 

and, the tragedy is, it doesn’t go wrong. they save the world. they send elias to prison. it all goes to plan. and tim is dead, and daisy is buried, and jon is lost in dreams. 

*👁️ **👁️ ***👁️ ****👁️  ***** he’s not the only one, of course, there are a whole team of people working on stopping the Unknowing, but jon is the Archivist. he’s the heir to gertrude’s legacy. 

****** this is where they fall in love, after all. which is a good thing, of course, but it adds an extra weight to every interaction they have, guessing and double-guessing how the other feels, until jon actually can’t talk to martin, not how he wants to, because he’s not sure if they’re there yet. (martin is there. jon doesn’t have time to be.) 

see yall next time 

i would like to cover s4 and s5, but this post is 1.5k already, and i’ve covered up to when the fic takes place! next time i will be ranting incoherently about timothy stoker, punctuated by bursts on uncontrollable sobbing. when that’s up, i’ll chuck a link here, and on the author notes of the fic i’m doing this for. see you then!

#tma #tma meta #jonathan sims #jon sims meta #character analysis #a deeply annoying child #the essay tag #god this is a mess but w/e posting it anyway

[singerj2002]

The Kids May Not Be Alright, But Who Is Nowadays? Pt. 1

Summary: After all the events that went down in Duskwood last week, Our Mc Bonnie makes a last minute decision to upheave her life and go to Duskwood for a bit without telling anyone, even the people she is going to be visiting. Therefore wacky hijinks and subsequent mental breakdowns ensue as they all try to heal and learn about one another together.

Fandom: Duskwood

Pairings: Mc (Bonnie) and Group, other pairing haven't been fully decided yet.

Words: 3076

Warnings: Minor Violence, Awful Decisions, and some Strong Language. In later chapters there will be discussions of more adult topics as well so discretion is advised.

A/N: Hi! I am brand new to the duskwood fandom so if I got some things wrong let me know! I can't wait for you to read this and I hope yall like it and HERE is the corresponding AO3 link. If you want to be tagged in the next part just let me know!

The thing is, when Bonnie Davies found out that her number was the last thing sent out by a girl that she had seemingly never met right before she went missing and was supposedly kidnapped, she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been. And anybody who knew Bonnie would be in the exact same boat because of her weird affinity for attracting trouble like a magnet. The weirder the situation is, the more likely Bonnie will end up involved somehow. This affinity is also what made her fit in so well with what she personally dubbed The Duskwood Gang and gave her a leg up in the investigations to find Hannah. However, that was done now. They had found both Hannah and Richy, and the man without a face was behind bars. There was nothing else to worry about. It had been a week, and both of them were in critical condition, but it seemed like that wasn’t going to be the case for much longer. It was some kind of miracle that they both were alive, and the doctors believed that either could wake up any day now. Of course, the second they found Hannah, Jake had gone completely AWOL. It was understandable, he was on the run from the government, but that didn’t mean it didn’t completely suck. At least a simple heads-up or goodbye would have made it at least slightly better. On the bright side, she would now be able to get through at least one conversation with the Duskwood police that would probably happen sooner rather than later. 

Now was the time to make informed, rational, and well-thought-out decisions with everything happening. It was time to be innovative and clever. So, of course, Bonnie decided that the best course of action was to pack up her things, get her go-bag, mail her motorcycle to the local post office, and book the soonest one-way trip to Duskwood without telling anyone. So that is how she ended up in a Taxi, holding her beloved Cat, Chicken, and making sure that none of her friends knew she was even in the country. She even made a reservation under a fake name to avoid any suspicion.

Bonnie walked up to the front desk where Mrs. Walter was working. She had h hood up over her curly hair that was dark blonde in the fluorescent lights and sunglasses covering her eyes. She knew that there was no reason to hide anymore, there was no one that she knew of that she needed to hide from, but it just made her feel safe. Or maybe, to some extent, it reminded her of Jake. Or perhaps she was hiding from the fact that this was a stupid decision and that once again, she was hiding from her problems and ignoring her trauma by offering herself as a source of comfort for someone else and that if her friends knew the circumstances of the situation, they would see right through her as if she was made of glass. Nah. That was definitely not that last one. Of course not. With cat and bags in tow, she finally dismissed the thoughts of doubts and opened her mouth to check herself in. 

“Uh, Hi…Uh, I made a reservation last night….Uh, it’s for Jackie Daytona? It’s the one who asked about the cat. I have the papers that confirm he is an emotional support animal right here…” Her voice was quick and made hard stops on the words. It was the kind of voice that could be used to usher in troops for battle or ignite passion within the most apathetic of groups but had been hampered by too much rain. She made sure to over pronounce her words so that they were understandable. She had lived in Greece, specifically Athens, for the first half of her childhood and then moved to Scotland when she was 13 so the two accents mixed together and somehow ended up as something that sounded vaguely Russian with weird intonation; well, at least now instead of comments about how it was hard to understand her, her voice was now being compared to Florence Pugh in Black Widow. She really needed to see that movie at some point, even if she was more of a DC fan.

Mrs. Walter looked at the woman from head to toe. She looked like she had hopped right out of a myth about Artemis, she was covered in freckles, and her golden was tied up behind her. It was hard to tell if her eyes were blue or green, but either way, they were dark and brimming with curiosity and wonder; there was even a little golden circle surrounding her iris. She was wringing her hands together, but the way they were bent, the minor scars from years of touching things she shouldn’t have, were more noticeable. There were scars like that spanning her legs, too, connecting with the dots, so it almost looked like constellations, but they weren’t. They were just the product of many accidents in her youth. As soon as Bonnie spoke, a key was slid across the table as well as a pamphlet.

“You know, here your anonymity is very important to us…and this paper has other places you can stay if you need some help….” The older woman smiled very sweetly at Bonnie as a way to hopefully reassure her. It was rare that people that were seemingly packed up all their lives would stay here, but when they did, she knew she had to be ready. 

“Oh…Uh thank you…I might look at it. I’m going to go to my room now.” Bonnie smiled back. She knew that look a little too well but knew that the woman was just trying to help, even if what she suspected wasn’t the case at this time. She looked down at her key. Room 305. That seemed reasonable. She quickly found her room and put the key into the door handle, and turned it, opening up into the room. It was your standard motel room. Blue walls, a window, 2 beds, a desk, and a bathroom. It wasn’t the cleanest place ever, but it was much better than some of the other places she had been in throughout her short life.

The second the door closed behind her, Bonnie set down all her bags, including her cat, and closed all the blinds. She then set up some food, water, and the travel-sized litter box before letting him out of his cage. Chicken Bartholomew Noodle Reginald Soup III was her special little boy and one of her best friends in the entire world. About a year earlier, she had found him abandoned in a dumpster, and he decided to follow her home. The second they locked eyes, she knew that she had met a kindred spirit, and ever since that day, they decided to take care of each other. 

Once situated enough to sit down and relax, Bonnie finally decided to take a look at the group chat that she had been ignoring for the past 12 hours. So far today, they had only really said their usually good mornings on their way off to work or the hospital. So far, there hadn’t been much good news about their conditions other than the fact that they were alive and had finally become more stable than before, with no full guarantees of life. All of it was neutral primarily but playing the waiting game in the dark only allowed bad thoughts to come to light. And at this point, any of them were desperate for just a bit of joy.

Bonnie: Good morning everyone!

Jessy: Morning Bon! (Smiley emoji)

Thomas: Hello Bonnie.

Dan: hey

Cleo: Hello! 👋

Bonnie: I have something very important to share with you all this morning!

Jessy: 🤔

Bonnie: I think it is time to introduce you to the most important man in my life.

Bonnie: The one man who I love most in this world.

Lilly: Is it Jake?

Thomas: Jake.

Dan: Hackerboy?

Jessy: So, Jake?

Cleo: Jake.

Bonnie: What? No! Why does everyone think that!? 

Cleo: We have eyes…

Bonnie: Well. As I was saying 

Bonnie: I would like to introduce you all to my cat.

Bonnie: Chicken Bartholomew Noodle Reginald Soup III.

Bonnie: chicken_478.jpg

Dan: what the fuck? 

Dan: who names their cat that?

Bonnie: I do!

Cleo: He is cute, but why is he wearing a tie?

Bonnie: He is a distinguished gentleman! He likes it. He gets despondent when he doesn’t have it.

Thomas: I don’t love cats, but I guess he is nice

Jessy: THAT IS THE CUTEST CAT I HAVE EVER SEEN!

Bonnie: THANK YOU JESSY.

Lilly: Are you in a hotel? How did you even get him in there?

Bonnie: Oh…

Bonnie: He is registered as my emotional support animal…

Dan: oh. well I still think that name is stupid.

Cleo: That is just how cats are named, Dan. 

Dan: What the fuck does that mean?

Just as more responses came in about how cute he was and an argument about the conventions of naming animals had begun, Bonnie got a DM from Lilly.

Lilly: You know I used to work at the motel, right?

Lilly: So I know what it looks like.

Bonnie: Yea. Of course. What about it?

Lilly: You’re in Duskwood. Aren’t you?

Bonnie: Whaaaat??

Bonnie: No…

Bonnie: …Maybe…

Bonnie: … okay yes

Lilly: Then Why Haven’t You Told Anyone!?!?

Bonnie: It was going to be a surprise!! It’s why I got such an early flight. I wanted to get settled in first and maybe explore the town on my own for a bit.

Bonnie: And before you get worried, I have both a knife and pepper spray on me as well as years of dance training accompanied by some self defense because for some reason dance translates really well to violence…

Lilly: You’re a younger sibling, right?

Bonnie: How could you tell? I’m technically also an older sibling because I’m a twin.

Lilly: Oh, middle child. Yikes.

Bonnie: I know, right?

Lilly: Either way I think it’s stupid that you didn’t tell anyone. If they spot you, they are going to ambush you in the middle of the street.

Bonnie: C’mon. Have a bit more faith in them. It will be fine.

Lilly: Are you sure about that?

Bonnie: No, but when has a bit of optimism hurt anybody. Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen?

Lilly: Would you like a list of the events of the past few weeks? I have receipts. You are seriously going to regret those words.

Bonnie: I’ll tell them soon. I promise. Cross my heart and hopefully not die.

Lilly: Good. Now, where the hell did you get the name Jackie Daytona?

Bonnie: What can I say. They are just a  regular human bartender with a passion for High School Volleyball 😉

Bonnie: I gotta run. I’ll talk to you later, okay?

Lilly: Okay. Bye Bonnie. 🙂

After laughing to herself, Bonnie went offline and got changed out of her traveling clothes so that she could get started on her exploration of the town and maybe take a peek into the infamous Duskwood forest now that there were no more serial killers lurking in the shadows. At least that she currently knew of. She really didn’t want to cause this town to have any more suspicion, so she decided that the best course of action was to just wear the clothes that she usually wore when going out during the day when she wasn’t at work or class. The only problem with that is that Bonnie is from the city and is also not straight. So what was considered normal within her sphere of friends and in her neighborhood vastly differs from what was expected in a small town like Duskwood. She also failed to consider that here, everyone knows everyone, so any type of new face, no matter how sweet they may be, will definitely cause talk. The sheer fact that they didn’t know who she was was a reason for suspicion. So maybe the big flower earrings and tall boots were a bit…much. She still walked around town for about an hour before her phone started buzzing off the hook again.

It was beautiful in Duskwood and a nice change of pace from classes for her masters and dance rehearsals that surrounded her life in the city. However, the quiet, the pleasant smell, and the general lack of activity were a bit jarring, and she really wasn’t used to people randomly greeting each other and gossiping in the middle of the street like it was part of their daily routine. In her old town, this happened to some extent, but she was much younger at that point, and it was a completely different country in a town that was much more city adjacent. At that point, she decided to finally check her phone to see what the gang was talking about. 

Cleo: Just a heads up. According to my mother, there is someone new in town who seems to be suspicious. She seemed to be staying at the Motel using a fake name and wanted me to tell you guys just in case.

Jessy: That is weird considering the timing…

Lilly: But there are also a ton of reasons that someone could be using a fake name. The first one off the top of my head is PRIVACY.

Dan: but how many of those reasons lead to something good?

Dan: not fucking many.

Lilly: I was talking to Mrs. Walker, and she seems really lovely. She even gave Alfie a fidget toy that she used to use.

Cleo: That is actually really sweet

Thomas: I still think we should keep an eye on her just in case

Lilly: She is probably some ordinary person who likes her privacy

Thomas: We should at least take this seriously, considering what happened last time

Jessy: Oh, wait. I think I see her!! Be right back.

Cleo: Be careful!

Bonnie was utterly lost in thought while still catching up on her conversation, and therefore she didn’t have the time to connect the dots that Jessy spotted her. Everything that had happened with the Man Without A Face, various incidents in her past, and general anxiety instilled Bonnie with a healthy dose of paranoia with a side of jumpiness that didn’t always work in her favor. So, when she felt a hand on her shoulder, it triggered her instincts as her mind told her that she was being grabbed. She really didn’t mean to hurt anyone, she really didn’t, but the next thing she knew, Bonnie had punched Jessy in the face with a nice clean crack as her fist made contact with the redhead’s nose. 

“SHIT!! Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!!! Omigod, Omigod, Omigod, Omigod!! Fuck!!” Bonnie had officially gone into panic mode as a stream of profanities exited her mouth, some English, some Greek, and some entirely made up. “Shit! Fuck!! ARE YOU SORRY?!?! WAIT! NO! ARE YOU SORRY!! FUCK, SHIT! NOT AGAIN! I AM okay. NO. WORDS!! I AM SO SORRY!! ARE YOU okay??!?!” Bonnie’s mind was moving much faster than her mouth at this point, and almost nothing was coming out right because her heart was racing so face. “Shit! You’re bleeding!!” Bonnie yelled while trying to help Jessy while simultaneously rummaging through a beat-up old messenger bag held together by safety pins and duct tape for something that would help.

All of this was happening so fast that Jessy couldn’t even process what was happening or who she was talking to; all she could do was hold her poor nose. She didn’t even realize what was happening or who she was talking to until two tampons were being shoved in her face, claiming it was for the blood. “What the actual fuck, Bonnie??” She genuinely had no clue how to react; she just kept staring at the person in front of her while putting the tampons in her nose, waiting for her brain to finally work. “Wait…BONNIE!! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?!?!” She was finally off the ground and ambushing her friend with a giant borderline suffocating hug.

“Punching you in the nose by the looks of it. I decided that I had to come and visit!” For a small moment, Bonnie forgot what she was worried about and smiled at how excited one of her best friends was to see her. Jessy just had one of those utterly contagious smiles that could light up a room.

“Well that’s obvious!!” Jessy scoffed while slapping Bonnie’s arm playfully. “Why on EARTH did you not Tell any of us!!”

“It was going to be a surprise!! I was going to crash you all at the Aurora tonight!!”

“Well it definitely was a surprise alright! I think the last thing anyone would expect is you punching me in the face!” Jessy teased, a signifier that she didn’t entirely hold it against Bonnie.

“Once again, I am so sorry about that! I had no idea it was you and I got paranoid. I mean I wasn’t expecting it either. But just in case, maybe we should stop by the hospital…I really don’t know how much damage that I caused….”

“I have to say I agree…That really hurt, you really pack a punch. I think the only reason I am still standing is pure adrenaline.”

“You do know where the hospital is, right?”

“Of course I do, with our friends I have been there too many times to count. Though, we should warn them that I am okay before they do something drastic….”

“Don’t worry. I got it, let’s take your car, I’ll drive!” And just like that, Bonnie whipped out her phone and sent a quick message to the group chat before putting it away.

Bonnie: Right. Don’t worry. Jessy is Fine. I’m already driving her to the hospital.

Then, the two of them were in the car and on their way to the hospital, blissfully unaware of the group chat’s chaos.

“You do know how to drive, right?” Jessy quickly asked, just in case.

“I mean I have my license. How bad can it be?” Bonnie replied, even though she had not driven a car for some time, “Okay, let’s go!!”

#duskwood #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jessy #duskwood richy #duskwood cleo #duskwood thomas #duskwood dan #duskwood lilly #duskwood hannah #duskwood mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood phil

[jamaiskookie]

meet me in your memories (knj)

✂︎ pairing: memory traveller namjoon x gender neutral reader

✂︎ wc: 11.8k

✂︎ TW// car crash, mentions of death, crying, mental health, mental breakdowns, spoilers for frozen 1?? um, vomiting, mentions of PTSD, three seconds of family drama, memory loss

✂︎ notes: a little gift from me for being away so long <3 luv yall also ignore how short and shitty this is!!! ignore it!!!!! 

✂︎ synopsis: namjoon is a memory traveller - he is thrusted back and forth into his world and the world of his memories, forced to re-enact his past experiences. but he doesn’t recognise you, who keeps showing up in his memories. why doesn’t he remember you? why can’t he recall any of these scenes if they’re supposed to be his memories? and why does it always feel like he’s forgetting something? 

he comes to find out that he would choose you over and over again, in whatever lifetime or world he’s in. because he always returns to you. 

✂︎ fic tunes: "eight"- iu (prod. & feat. suga) but you're at your favorite secret spot after a long day by neptjoon

masterlist asks

The road is slippery and Namjoon cranes his head out to look at the window. Rain splattering everywhere, he notes worriedly. He hopes that nobody crashes. The bus driver sitting about three meters in front of him is humming a melody to a song he doesn’t know nor recognise. While listening to the poor man hum the off beat tune, Namjoon sits in silence, wondering how sad it must be to drive a bus with no passengers but himself. 

Suddenly, his stomach drops and his head spins, and this time Namjoon is certain it’s not from the rain or the driver’s subpar driving. He lurches forward, watching as the rain knocks against the window and falls in thick ribbons. 

Click. 

In an instant, Namjoon’s world collapses around him and he is thrown into his mind. 

Seoul is sweltering hot - hot like he’s never felt before. Namjoon reaches up to clutch his head, which is still spinning, and finds himself standing in a pair of light washed baggy jeans and a sleeveless tee shirt, unlike the padding coat and thick boots he had on just a moment ago. 

“Namjoon!” Someone squeals behind him and his heart jumps. He jumps around, facing you and the view of hot street food stalls and tall buildings behind you. Suddenly, his hand is reaching out to grab onto yours and you smile softly. 

He hears his own voice ring out, clear as day: “Don’t run. I was looking for you.”��

“Psh.” You wave off his concern, handing him a shiny golden hotteok. You hold an identical one in your fist, so he accepts it and murmurs his thanks, tearing apart the pancake and stuffing it into his mouth. Sweet, hot honey and small pieces of walnut flood into his mouth, and Namjoon is momentarily surprised. Science states that you cannot taste or physically feel anything in your dreams. 

But Namjoon already proved that wrong long ago. 

He takes you by hand and drags you over to a shelter, for some rest, apparently uninterested in your cries of wanting more tteokbokki or some Chinese food. He flings you over to his side and places his hand over your shoulder, while you both silently devour your hotteoks. 

“This was a nice date.” You mumble tentatively, and oh. That’s what this is? A date? He wants to turn around and ask you for your name. Where are you from? Why am I here again? He wants to scream it out until his lungs hurt and he gets an answer that makes sense, but no matter how much he tries, his throat will not allow those words to tumble out of his lips.  

Why don’t I remember you?

Instead, he replies: “Yeah, it was. This was fun.” He tilts his head down to smile at you and Namjoon finds himself nervous. Nervous enough that his hands are shaking against his will, but he tells himself that the sweat and the nervousness are all side effects of the swampy heat this summer. 

You beam at him and Namjoon thinks you’re an angel. You lean up onto his chest to place a soft kiss onto his lips and Namjoon thinks about when he’s going to be thrown back out of his head. 

“Wanna go home?” He asks, nudging at the sky, which is already filled up with first streaks of the sunset. Purple hues and pinks and blues that all blend together nicely. You watch the sky for a moment.

“Never.” You offer no explanation after that and Namjoon doesn’t pry. He feels like he understands you, which is scarier than any other encounter he’s faced, in real life and in here. You stare up at him more intensely, and a shudder of fear runs down Namjoon’s back. “I just want to stay here forever,” You enunciate, like you want him to remember this. “Just Y/N and Namjoon.” 

Something tugs in his chest and Namjoon screams in his head, no. Longer. Not now. He slips away, gone, disappeared from the world before he can even tell you how pretty your name is. And he awakens back at the bus, where the driver is shaking him and yelling at him to get out. 

Namjoon walks home in the rain, yelling out your name in happiness until his neighbours come over politely asking him to shut the fuck up. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… Y/N?” He keeps repeating the name over and over again, enough to make Seokjin annoyed, who has moved away from Namjoon’s desk to the sofa in his office just to escape the random spiel that Namjoon is hurriedly rushing through. 

“I can’t find a single Y/N in here!” Namjoon cries frustratingly, and the corners of Seokjin’s eyes soften in something that is either pity or empathy. He discards his non-fiction novel about drag queens and wigs to come over and clap a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. 

“My friend, my crazy, idiotic, slightly insane friend.” Seokjin bends down. “You’ve checked all your yearbooks, social media, archives, newspapers… Have you perhaps considered that this person wasn’t that important? Just a passing stranger?”

“No.” Namjoon shoots down stubbornly. “They appear far too often for them not to be important.” So Seokjin shrugs, leaving Namjoon to, once again, search through the Facebook friends of a friend of a friend of a friend. 

But no Y/N’s pop up, and he’s wondering if Y/N was just a nickname. Was it even your real name? With a sigh and one single (rather impressive) agitated brow wave, he lets go and spills. He tells Seokjin about how he finally learned your name, about the places you’ve been together and how much you adore street food. 

He appreciates Seokjin for being a good friend, for sitting there and not interrupting to call him a crazy person, even if he is most certainly thinking about it in his head. Because Seokjin, at least, knows about a miniscule part of Namjoon’s tragic life. He doesn’t understand, but he gets it, and that’s all Namjoon needs in a friend. 

He doesn’t tell Seokjin about how soft and pillowy your lips feel against his, he doesn’t tell you how much he longs to do unspeakable things to you when you show up in those blue short shorts. He definitely doesn’t tell him how much he loves your name. 

Seokjin suggests a number of things. That perhaps you are a character from long ago, or maybe a passing stranger Namjoon once had a summer fling with. You may be someone long forgotten like a mutual friend in high school or college. He also suggests a psychiatric hospital to screw his head back on (as a joke, Namjoon’s pretty sure.) 

But none of those seem right. Namjoon does his best to explain, he really does. For an award winning journalist and aspiring writer, he does just about a terrible job of trying to string his words together. Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose and falls back onto the sofa, already spacing out. Namjoon weakly cries out that he knows you. He really does - he just doesn’t remember how, or why. 

Like a puzzle with a few missing pieces. 

He wonders when and if the missing pieces will ever make their way over to him. 

Namjoon gives up and flops down onto the sofa next to Jin, who squeaks out various protests about how heavy he is and how stupidly huge his arms have gotten after he started working out, along the lines of comparing him to Jungkook and calling him a gym rat. 

As usual, Namjoon doesn’t listen. 

It’s difficult to explain the feeling of falling to someone who hasn’t experienced it. The cursed Click echoes out and suddenly, the world spins around, the axis breaks and he’s physically thrown into another time, another place… another memory that he can’t seem to recall. His stomach lurches, his head hurts and there’s a small breeze flowing in. 

For a short moment, the loops of space and time are completely open to him. He can’t see it, but he can feel it. It flips his mind completely upside down and boom. He’s in a specific, random time and place. His body feels light, and every step he takes, he can physically feel it: He doesn’t belong here. He isn’t supposed to be here. Everything feels different. Even the air is more smoky, because something in this world is suddenly wrong, and it’s him. 

The next time he meets you, he is in just about the worst place to fall. Sitting in a press conference, his stomach drops and he’s dreading the fall. Namjoon can already hear his boss screaming at him, and he desperately tries to root himself to his seat, typing whatever the assemblyman is yapping on and on about. About farming and agriculture and tax cuts… 

Click. 

He can distantly hear the assemblyman candidate talk about corrupt government workers as he’s thrusted out of his world and into another. 

The memory he has the pleasure to be in this time is something not too unfamiliar. For a second, he thinks if this is just a normal day of him in his cramped, tiny city apartment. Until he turns around and realises you’re lying right next to him, sound asleep and nuzzling into the side of his neck. 

The air is crisp. It’s spring, not winter anymore, and he can hear the flower petals outside his apartment complex falling lightly on the ground. This, Namjoon thinks, may just be the best memory he’s been in. The press conference and his life and his boss slips his mind and he cradles you in his chest, holding you closer and closing his eyes shut. 

“Mm?” You mumble, half asleep. “You’re suffocating me.” You hoarsely call out, and Namjoon releases you with an insincere apology. He brushes the hair out of your hair and grins, framing you in his head. He reaches to his alarm clock, which is right next to his bed as it always is to check the time. 

April 1st, 2017. 

Oh god, Namjoon winces. This means he still has that god awful haircut right now. He reaches up to feel his head, and sure enough, the horrible slicked back bleached hair is still there, an unfortunate result of his friend Hoseok daring him to drunk dye his hair. 

“You’re awake?” He asks you, and you nod slowly. 

He wonders if this memory precedes or follows the one he had with you last time, and he desperately hopes things are going in chronological order. He wants to know you just as much as you know him. Namjoon naively prays to whatever deity that controls his dreamworld: Please follow things step by step, follow the clock. 

You roll around, saying something he can’t really catch. He asks you what you said and for the first time today, you peel open your eyes directly facing him. Namjoon’s heart almost falls out of his ass, seeing your eyes bore into his own. 

“Where’s my morning kiss?” You ask cutely, nudging his nose with your own button nose. 

“Right here.” He finds himself saying, leaning in to close the inches in between your two faces. You taste like hotteok, even early in the morning. You taste like a spring day and a never ending forever. As your lips capture his and his everything is consumed by thoughts of you, Namjoon begs himself to kiss you harder. 

His past self declines politely, and Namjoon thinks about whether this counts as himself being controlled if he himself is still controlling what he says and does. 

In that moment, listening to your slow breathing and someone across the street playing simple, melodic piano chords, Namjoon tells himself: Do not ever forget April 1st, 2017. You rise from the bed and some form of protest bubbles up from Namjoon’s mouth, to which you just laugh and drag him out of bed with the excuse of wanting breakfast. 

You push him into the bathroom, where he expects to meet his sad single grey towel and foggy mirror. You push him in front, and he cringes at the sight of his hair in the mirror. You sigh. 

“Calm down. The blonde looks sexy. You can dye it back black later.” He laughs, because it’s clearly not very sexy. For once, his past self is doing exactly what the current Namjoon is pleading him to do. Does it count as reliving your memories if someone else was living through them originally? But, he reminds himself while you hand him a green toothbrush and squeeze a dollop of toothpaste on both your toothbrushes, this is him. He lived through this once and he is just taking a trip down memory lane. 

The person who lived through this before was him. 

He has to remind himself many more times before it sinks in. 

You brush your teeth next to him, fluffing your hair and squinting in the mirror to wake yourself up. Without a second of hesitation, Namjoon brings the toothbrush up and starts to brush his teeth. Nothing has ever felt more domestic or right than this, despite the tentative steps and heavy lead feeling in his throat telling him he still isn’t supposed to be here. 

You spit out toothpaste in the sink to gargle your mouth and Namjoon mimics you exactly. Somehow, you find yourselves in the kitchen, giggling while making some sort of french toast with an abundance of cinnamon floating through the air. Which makes Namjoon cough and makes you laugh even harder. 

“This is a perfect morning.” You say, peering out the window to watch the city life slowly bustling to life. People scrambling out their doors, ushering their children or pets with them. People you don’t recognise going on walks or runs. Mailmen and delivery people dropping off packages and people yelling into their phones as they hurriedly walk along the sidewalk. 

And you and Namjoon, calmly staying in your pajamas while frying toast on the pan. 

“Is something burning?” You ask, sniffing the air, and Namjoon’s blood runs cold. 

“Oh, shit!” 

You smile and shake your head while Namjoon attempts to save the blackened piece of bread to no avail. He catches sight of the corners of your mouth lifting, even as you chastise him about watching the stove and ranting on about how you’re never going to trust him in the kitchen again. Namjoon watches your pink lips, stained with a brown mudge of cinnamon french toast mixture, which lifts up and your head falls back, hair flowing around your head like a halo. 

Your laugh plays out in front of him in slow motion, and absentmindedly, he thanks that deity he prayed to for slowing this moment down. Because if there’s anything he yearns most to remember, it’s the way you laugh. A chuckle makes its way out of his own throat as well, and he’s not sure who’s in control at the moment. 

Himself or himself in the past?

Either way, they both did the right thing. Namjoon forgets. He forgets the life he has back home, he forgets Seokjin’s warnings, he forgets that he has at least a hundred articles waiting for him at work to be written. He forgets that this world is nothing but a chance for him to follow the footsteps of what he once did, with no control to say or do anything he wishes to do himself. 

But, oh, he really can’t bring himself to care. 

Those piano chords from before blend together beautifully, and you scrape the black toast into the garbage can, still teasing him relentlessly, and oh. Oh, this is what it means to have a home. You made this junk of a house into a home, and he feels like he has to return here. This is where he’s meant to return to, everyday. Each time. 

You turn around after discarding the toast and with a bright smile, you ask him to kiss you again. Namjoon thinks that he doesn’t ever have the capability to deny you when you smile like that, so he complies and crashes his lips onto yours. 

The lead, heavy feeling in his throat is still weighing him down. Except Namjoon isn’t sure whether it’s weighing him down to this world or the real world.

 The cursed deity pulls him back, pulling him through the time and space back to his own responsibilities and life. His heart is wrenched out and he reaches out, trying to grasp your hand for the last time. He falls back to his own world in a hospital bed and an IV attached to his arm with half a piece of french toast dangling in his mouth and another promise he makes with himself to meet you again with a smile on his face. 

Memories… memories that he’s lived through but can’t remember. Memories he slips into to live momentarily through the actions and words of his old self. 

Somewhere along the line of diving back and forth his own life and this past one, he has forgotten which is which. 

“Most likely due to exhaustion. Lack of sleep, lack of rest. It’s quite common with working young adults, workaholics. I’m putting him on medical leave for the rest of the week. He needs a rest - He needed it yesterday. Don’t worry too much, Mrs. Kim. A long nap and a meal or two will fix him right back up.” Namjoon groggily registers the white walls and beeping noises, the chatter of doctors and nurses rushing around. 

He’s in a hospital, and a rush of fear runs straight through his blood. He sits up to eye his mother, sitting next to him and holding his hand. She shushes him, laying him back down on the bed, but all he can do is panic. 

“No, not here. Not here again.” He mumbles incoherently. His mother puts a hand over his eyes, shushing him again and telling him softly to go back to sleep. He doesn’t want to go to sleep, he wants to get out of here. But his eyelids are already feeling heavy and he weakly fights against his body, but before he can even process it, his eyes are shut and he is asleep. 

Seeing her son close his eyes and drift off to sleep, Mrs. Kim turns back to the doctor. 

“I’m not surprised,” She starts. “He’s always worked himself to the bone. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about his brain.” The doctor cocks his head and looks through the papers which are clipped to a clipboard in his arms. 

“Ah, yes. I see he was in a car accident a few years ago.” Doctors are some of the most heartless people, and you can always tell how experienced a doctor is by how much sympathy they show. This doctor shows none at all, which must mean he’s been working for a long time. 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Kim.” The doctor continues, peering over Namjoon’s sleeping body. “I see he suffered light effects after the accident. Selective amnesia, no external damages to the skull. He didn’t suffer as much. In fact, I believe the doctor in charge believed that the amnesia was mostly due to the shock of the event. But he’s received treatment for PTSD since then, right?” 

Mrs. Kim nods. 

“Good. Doctor Park also noted at the time that his amnesia actually didn’t affect much of his memory. He couldn’t remember distant relatives or kindergarten friends, but that seemed to be the extent of his amnesia. Oh,” The doctor slipped through the clipboard. “He also couldn’t remember certain knowledge about philosophers such as Freud, which he was, quote, ‘devastated over’ un-quote.” 

Mrs. Kim stays silent. 

“So, you don’t have to worry too much. Best thing your son could do for his well being is rest. And a therapist if he has a relapse or shows some symptoms such as sleep difficulties or nightmares, or physical signs like fatigue and nausea.” 

Mrs. Kim nods. “Thank you, doctor.”

That’s it, and she turns back to her son, with her hand in his. She stays there, unmoving until he opens his eyes, mumbling incoherent questions and asking his mother why he is in the hospital again, demanding to be discharged immediately. Her heart breaks a little, small cracks form for her beloved son and she kisses him on the forehead, telling him he’d be out of here in no time. 

“What did you see?” She asks quietly, and Namjoon is surprised. She never asks him about his memory walks. It’s taboo to mention it in his household. Not even his sister is comfortable talking about it. “Anything? At all? You passed out at a rather unfortunate time, I heard.” She continues. 

“Nothing much.” Namjoon replies, lying through his teeth and trying to justify it with the sight of your laugh. He leans back and closes his eyes once more, bringing up his memories of you and your bedhead. He tries to fill the gap inside of him with thoughts of you, as if that can make up for the empty feeling that he’s forgetting something. 

In the hospital, staring at a white ceiling and glaring lights, Namjoon is left to think about what’s happening to his head. During the end of his rather short stay, he comes up with a terrifying conclusion. One that scares him more than he could imagine, but it’s the only one that makes sense. He’s falling in love with you. 

He voices out this concern to Seokjin when he visits after his mother leaves. Seokjin stays silent, mumbling out an apology that feels like the wrong thing to say. The elder boy can only look at his friend with sadness in his eyes, telling him that someone as great as Namjoon shouldn’t be suffering so much pain. Namjoon jokes that a witch must have cursed him when he was born. 

None of the two friends laugh. 

This routine continues on and on, without Namjoon dwelling too much on it. Which is so much unlike Namjoon, whose main personality trait is overthinking about the smallest things. He lets the flow of time and space take him wherever they wish to plop him down. He lets the evil deity toy with his heart and wrench him away whenever you smile the largest. 

It hurts right after he is torn away from you, but he’s filled with so much joy in the moment that he can’t bring himself to do anything else about it. Even if he wanted to do something without it, he has no idea where on earth he might start. 

Sometimes he questions the validity of his memories. What is real, what is fake? He still can’t answer, and this is what he spends most of his time wondering about. The memories he has with you don’t make sense. Those are large gaps in his life that he seems to have no recollection of. 

He goes everywhere with you. 

One day he showed up on November 5th, 2015. 

The next day he jumped to August 23rd, 2017. 

Another time, he was thrown into March 15th, 2016. 

None of it makes sense. Are they not memories? He thinks. There’s no possible way he’s spent this much of his life with you and can’t recall any of it. What is real - the world he spends with you, or the world where he always returns to by default?

And yet, nothing else can explain these short periods of blackouts. Ever since one day in some horrible hospital, he’s gone under and pulled and thrusted into some land where he has no control over his own hands. Everything else makes sense. This world, everything else is accurate from the settings to the props, with one anomaly in his memory. 

A character who goes by the name of Y/N. 

He could go the science-y logic route that he so often frequents, come up with theories that can somewhat explain these periods of time. Theories that include explanations such as hallucinations, or that Seokjin’s right and he’s finally gone crazy. You’re just a figment of his imagination, that this is all in his head and he’s out of his mind. 

But he rejects all those theories when he’s clicked into another memory. Somehow, he just understands. These are memories. These are memories he’s had with you, whether that was in a past life or in some sort of messed up alternate timeline where he’s actually happy. 

Is this a gift or another curse from this stupid deity?

He has too many questions. 

He cannot explain these memories using science, logic, common sense, or even using his own words. But in the moment, while you’re in his arms, he can feel it. He can explain it by describing the way you smell, like pancakes and fresh mint. He can explain it by describing the way you feel, like a warm marshmallow filling up his insides and consuming him. 

It’s cheesy, cringier than Seokjin’s dad jokes, but only he gets it. 

Namjoon is in his living room, switching channels on the TV and thinking about this when his stomach sinks again. He braces himself, and disappears. 

Click.

Seoul is freezing cold. The air is light and he is sitting on a bench on his college campus, rubbing his hands together and zipping up his huge jacket over his sweater. Namjoon shudders, his body not yet used to the bite of the cold compared to the warm breeze he was just enjoying. 

He sniffles, nose slightly red like some knockoff Rudolph and wanders around. His body pulls him to go to the right, despite the warm coffee shop being on the left. He shudders again and tries to protest, but his body won’t listen, standing up and walking over to the right with no particular destination in mind. Students are rushing around, complaining about the cold and talking about their next party or study session. 

Namjoon pulls himself forwards, and thank god this version of himself still has terrible tolerance for the cold, because he reaches up and pulls his beanie down over his ears, still wandering around aimlessly. Where are you going? Namjoon wants to scream out frustratingly. 

His brain doesn’t reply and Namjoon sulks. 

Eventually, he is pulled over to another bench, outside in the cold, and he sits down, deeply resenting himself and wondering why on earth he just stood up from one bench to walk to another one. If anything, it’s colder here. He watches the students that pass by for a minute or two, thinking that this is the most boring memory he’s ever been in. 

There is no snow falling, but almost everything on campus is lined with a sheet of ice or cold steam. Namjoon nuzzles deeper into his own clothes, cursing himself for not being able to go buy another sweater or something to fight the extreme cold. 

Suddenly, you appear in front of him and Namjoon perks up. There you are. He thinks. Finally. You come over and sit down, holding something in your hands. He smiles, waiting for you to speak up and greet him with a kiss that will surely warm him up, but you silently sit next to him, ignoring him. Namjoon urges himself to say something, but instead, he continues to watch the students bustling through campus grounds without looking at you. 

Are we fighting? Is Y/N mad at me? 

This is excruciatingly frustrating, Namjoon bites his tongue and thinks. Why can’t he just say something? Abruptly, something lands on his jacket with a splat and he straightens up, snapping his neck towards you, who is looking at the yogurt splat on his jacket with a look of terror. 

“Oh my gosh!” You squeak out, quickly setting your yogurt aside and reaching for some tissues in your purse. “Oh, god, oh god, I’m so sorry. Please, let me-” Namjoon frowns, taking his hands out of his pockets to thumb at his jacket, debating whether he wants to take it off or not. 

You lean over, pawing at his jacket and wiping the yogurt off of his jacket. “I’m so sorry!” 

“No, don’t worry.” Namjoon says, chuckling. He reaches for another tissue, helping you get the yogurt off of him. “It’s no big deal.” The yogurt is mostly wiped off and you side eye him with the unmistakable look of guilt filling your eyes. Namjoon laughs again. 

“It’s fine, really! No, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m literally so sorry. Do you want me to pay for dry cleaning? Laundry? I can, um, wash it for you! I’m not the best at laundry, but it’s the least I could do?” 

Namjoon briefly wonders why you’re being so polite. 

“No, it’s fine.” The words tumble out his mouth again before he can process it. “Really, this jacket is old, anyway.” Not really, Namjoon thinks. It feels really new. “But who the hell eats cold yogurt in this kind of weather?” He jokes. “You sure you’re not a demon?”

You freeze, terrified before realising he was cracking a joke. “Oh. Hah! Yeah, no, I guess I just really like yogurt.” You offer lamely, and you break out into a small giggle. “Yeah, I guess I kind of am a psycho for eating it right now. It’s freezing today.” 

“God, tell me about it.” Namjoon says, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. 

“Thanks for not going bonkers on me. This jacket looks insanely expensive.” 

“Not really.”

“I’m Y/N.” You greet, holding a hand out for him to shake. I know, Namjoon thinks with a secret smile, but everything makes sense now. You don’t know him yet. To you in this moment in time, he’s just a random stranger who didn’t blow up on you after spraying some yogurt onto you. To him, you’re… you’re… 

“Oh, um, I’m Namjoon.” He says, hurriedly taking a hand out of his pocket to shake your outstretched hand. Your fingers meet and Namjoon swears a small zap just went through his hand. 

“Namjoon. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.” You say with a small smile, yogurt already long forgotten on the bench beside you two. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He says in return, even though he doesn’t mean it. He already knows you, he knows you better than everyone. He knows your favourite food is Korean street food, and you always wake him up with kisses and your favourite colour is periwinkle and you absolutely hate abalone with more passion than he’s ever seen in his entire life.

But this is your first time seeing him, ever, he reminds himself. This is your meet cute. This single moment set off the events in the next god knows how many years. This is the first time he ever had your name grace his tongue. This is the first time you’ve seen him. 

Another moment to treasure. You let go of his hand, after realising you two have been shaking hands for much longer than the socially acceptable rate of hand shaking. Blushing, either from the cold or humiliation, you sit, turn back around, grabbing a hold of your yogurt once more. 

Suddenly, Namjoon finds himself blurting out: “Hey, you wanna go get some coffee?” You look over curiously, pointing to yourself like you can’t believe he’s asking you out, because you don’t know that you’re all he ever thinks about at any given moment in any given day. “You’ll probably freeze your ass off if you keep eating that yogurt.” He jokes, pretending like this is all because he’s caring about how cold you are and not how cute or incredible or kind you are. 

“Sure.” You say, nodding shyly. He stands up, leading you to walk over to the left where the campus coffee shop is. Along the way, you throw the yogurt cup in the trash. 

“You can’t bring food brought from outside into a shop, right?” You ask. 

Namjoon smiles. “Yeah.” He stays there until night takes over the sky and one single twinkling star in the sky is signalling that it’s time to go home. Possibly the longest time he’s ever spent in a memory. He keeps glancing at the clock, praying that he gets one more minute with you, one more second, one more moment. 

At any time, he could be pulled out of this world, and he needs to make the most of it. You tell him about your childhood bedroom and your major. You tell him about the love you have for pancakes, and how much you want a puppy even though it’s prohibited in the on campus dorms. He nods, pretending like this is all new information even though it’s not, and he’s known all of this for the longest time. He knows you better than you know yourself, which he keeps to himself. 

In return, he tells you about his own childhood bedroom, which was adorned with posters of western hip hop rappers. He tells you about his passions for writing and music, that if he didn’t major in journalism, he’d be studying music production in school. He tells you that he’s obsessed with philosophy, and in all honesty, is a bit of a nerd. 

Instead of laughing or pulling a face, you nod and smile, saying that you think he should tell you more about philosophy on a second date. 

You leave the coffee shop with a small goodbye, and even though he desperately wants to, Namjoon can’t kiss you. 

He gets pulled back after you disappear pass the corner of the street, and the world morphes into a huge motion blur. When he gets pulled back into his living room, the TV is playing late night TV shows already. Namjoon checks the time. He was pulled in for five hours, the longest he’s ever been in that world. 

After that, no matter how much more he prays and begs, he never stays any longer than that. 

Three days later, Namjoon suddenly pops into Hong Kong, which is hotter than anything he’s ever felt. The streets are heavy with people, squabbling in cantonese while selling raw meats in a wet market. The sun is glaringly bright, and Namjoon starts to sweat almost instantaneously. Taxis and huge buses drive past, Namjoon jumps to a side only to find a vast ocean. He’s at the harbour front. 

The smell of food, of egg tarts and pineapple buns and meat dumplings along with other Hong Kong delicacies waft through the air, combined with the salty air of the sea. It makes for a strange combination that confuses his senses but works nonetheless. 

He thought he knew a city like Seoul, but this is a true city. This is busy and fast paced like he’s never even seen before. People shove each other aside to catch the bus, dogs are yapping everywhere and he soaks it all in before the thought enters his head.

What the hell is he doing in Hong Kong?

It’s like every time he wonders aloud, you pop up. “I’ve been looking for you.” You say, echoing the words he said to you that day in the streets of Seoul. 

“I was exploring!“ He says defensively, and you roll your eyes. 

“Come on.” You say, walking along the harbour front. 

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Namjoon asks, the words spilling out and surprising himself. Are you mad at him? You’ve never been mad at him before, not in the memories he’s seen. He hasn’t ever seen you fight with him, and immediately, he wants to apologise, fix things before he’s pulled back out and he has to live with the guilt and overthinking of whether you’re still mad at him for the next week. 

“Can’t believe you’re mad at me during our vacation.” Namjoon says, and that’s why he’s in Hong Kong, he realises. He’s on vacation. How strange. Namjoon thinks back to when the last time he took a break from work and the only thing he can think of is when that doctor put him on medical leave not too long ago. Oh no, you’re mad at him on holiday?

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You retort back, and Namjoon has never heard your voice this curt. “Just sit around pretending like everything's okay?”

“What do you want me to do?” Namjoon replies. “You act like this is my fault!” 

“It is your fault!” You cry out indignantly, and Namjoon knows that, but why? What did he do? What did you do? “Is this even a vacation?”

“Yes!” Namjoon cries out again in response, and you shake your head. 

“You promised, Namjoon.” You say like it’s a warning. 

“Yes, I know,” Namjoon says, even though he doesn’t and really, what on earth did he do? “But this is out of my hands! I can’t just say no, you’re not looking at this from my point of view.”

“You’re not looking at this from my point of view!” You argue back, and Namjoon looks around, realising that this squabble is attracting a small crowd of chinese people, gathering around to watch the free entertainment along the sidewalk of Victoria harbour. He awkwardly laughs, raising his hand and bows, a universal sign of apology, grabbing your hand and walking to the other direction. 

“Come on, I’d rather not have the whole city witness our fight.”

“Oh, so this is a fight now?” 

“What? Yes!” Namjoon says exasperatedly. “How else would you classify this argument?” 

Once he makes it to somewhere with at least a sliver of privacy, he turns around with his brows furrowed and a glare etched on his features. Why do you look so angry? Namjoon chastises himself. Just relax, relax, relax. As usual, his body doesn’t listen. 

“Why are you so mad at this?” Namjoon asks, and feels a flow of relief go down his spine. Finally. 

“It’s not just this instance, Joon. I know work is important, but sometimes it feels like you put literally anything else above me! Like last time? You bailed on our date, like, at least twice. You keep saying you can’t say no, but you can. You have that right, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon’s heart softens a little bit. His workaholic tendencies ended up biting him in the ass after all. Sighing he rubs the back of his neck, eyes glued to the floor. “I’m not prioritising work over you, baby.” He tries to explain, and tries to ignore how his heart sinks when your eyes turn stony at the sound of the pet name he often uses to address you. 

“It’s just important to me as well, okay? It’s not my fault my boss heard I was going to Hong Kong and insisted I come to interview some investors about Hong Kong’s economy.” He explains slowly. “It couldn’t take more than a single day to get everything organised and tidied up.” 

“But-!” You huff angrily, spitting out your words. “You don’t understand! You keep doing this, Namjoon. You keep working, working, working. It’s been this way since college. It’s like you’ll die if you just take a break to come talk to me. I even went over to your office to have lunch with you last week and they told me you were in a meeting.” 

“It was important!” Namjoon insists and he can feel things sinking and getting worse and worse with every word he says. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? You can’t expect me to put you in front of all of my responsibilities. I’m sure you have things you can’t give up for me too.”

Hearing that felt like a slap to the face to both you and Namjoon, and he’s screaming at himself internally, why would you say something so, so, stupid?

“Excuse me?” Your broken voice rings out and Namjoon’s accusatory finger falls. 

“Wait.” He mumbles, fumbling with his hands. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. Wait, I-” 

“Fine!” You yell angrily. “You think nothing’s more important than work? You think I haven’t given up anything for you, Kim Namjoon? Because I’d quit and give up anything for you, you asshole.” You bite out, tears desperately trying not to fall. “You fucking asshole.” You say, before turning back around to weave through the crowd. 

“No, wait, baby!” He calls out, and even he knows that he’s messed up. Messed up big time. That was more hurtful than any cuss word or insult he could’ve ever said. “Kim fucking Namjoon, you idiot.” He mumbles to himself. Seeing you cry is more painful than anything else in the world, Namjoon thinks. He’s not ever going to see that sight again if he can help it. 

He walks forward, trying to find you. Maybe you went back to the hotel, or went to look at the sea to clear your head. He thinks he sees the back of your head for a second, and he reaches forward, clutching at air. He’s about to cry, and Namjoon has never seen himself be more pathetic. 

“Oh no, where are you?” He murmurs to himself like a crazed man. What if you were hurt somewhere? He needs to know you’re safe, he needs to know you’re okay, he needs to make everything better. With each step, the lead feeling in his throat grows heavier and heavier until he feels like it’s sunk to his chest. He wants to kneel down, he wants it to stop hurting, but he can’t. 

He must aimlessly follow his shell to do whatever he is doing now. 

The lead feeling continues to grow, and Namjoon feels like he’s suffocating. He’s not supposed to be here, he reminds himself. But he has to find you first, then he can leave. Then he can go, but where are you? He wants to cry, he wants to breathe. 

Namjoon tells himself to gasp for air, but he cannot. He tells himself if this is the last time he ever sees you, he needs to see you smile. He needs to see you laugh. 

Like the pattern in the rest of his meaningless life, an evil deity always pulls him away from the ones he loves when he needs them most. He feels the lead feeling being lifted and pure panic races to Namjoon’s head. He tries to croak out no. He tries to resist, he shoves people aside and calls out your name. But no one answers him, and the cruel deity laughs at his demise. 

He is too weak, too weak to control himself. 

Namjoon is plucked out of the world and transported back to his bedroom with the threads of time slowly ravelling and tangling themselves around his neck, all while he reaches forward, only to grasp at air and pretend in his head that everything’s alright. 

When he reaches his bedroom and wakes up, he stumbles into the bathroom and vomits, all while longing for the warmth of your lips.

-

Walking around dazedly, Namjoon somehow manages to make his way to Seokjin and Jimin’s apartment, knocking and hoarsely asking them to open, open up please. Because he’s not sure he can hold on to another night alone. Jimin opens the door instantly and catches Namjoon in his arms, frantically calling for Seokjin to come fast. 

They lay him on the couch, hearts slowly breaking and trying to convince themselves their friend will be fine as they watch Namjoon whimper in his sleep. 

Namjoon wakes to the smell of breakfast, of bacon on the stove and Jimin chattering around while watering his plants. He gets up, headache pounding and throat sore. Seokjin wordlessly hands him a few pills and a glass of water, while Jimin plates up breakfast, placing the sausage, eggs and toast separately on the plate because Namjoon can’t stand it when food on his plate touches. 

Silently, the three friends eat. Nobody speaks until Namjoon clears his throat and looks up. 

“Thank you.“ He whispers. 

“What are friends for?” Jimin says. 

Namjoon wonders why he’s got such amazing friends. Jin replies that he was born perfect and God created him like this, so Namjoon shouldn’t dwell too much on it. Jimin and Namjoon both throw a spoon of scrambled eggs in his direction simultaneously, high fiving without missing a beat when Jin lets out a protest of unjust behaviour. 

 As the three friends sit quietly, Namjoon says: “I think I’m going mad.”

“I’m glad you’ve realised.” Seokjin replies offhandedly. 

“I don’t think I can keep going between these worlds. I think it’s making me lose my mind.” 

Jimin stills. Seokjin stops washing the dishes and turns off the faucet. 

“Do… do you know how to stop it?” Jimin asks hesitantly. Namjoon shakes his head, and Seokjin sighs, in deep thought, which is a strange and rare sight to see itself. 

“Well, I guess we’ll have to figure this out together.” Seokjin says casually. Jimin agrees and the faucet comes back on, Seokjin going straight back to washing the pan he used to fry up the scrambled eggs. Jimin unplugs the toaster and Namjoon sits, smiling at his beloved friends. 

“You can borrow some of my shirts.” Jimin calls from the bathroom. “You know, if you want to stay over a couple more nights. Feel free.”

“Make yourself at home and shit.” Seokjin mutters, waving his hand around sarcastically. Namjoon almost bursts out into tears of happiness, but he decides to hold it in until Seokjin doesn’t have access to his phone and won’t put Namjoon’s breakdown on instagram live. 

The next day, the entire gang comes over, all with varying degrees of understanding what the hell is going on with Namjoon. For example, Yoongi pretty much knows as much as Seokjin does, who still doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Taehyung was just told Namjoon’s been feeling down because God knows that boy has a big mouth and definitely can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

Seokjin supplies homemade snacks and burgers fresh off the grill, Yoongi brings over his unlimited Netflix and HBO account passwords he probably stole off of some innocent family member to watch Disney movies, Taehyung comes over with Yeontan clutched to his side because that’s the group's emotional support dog. Jungkook and Hoseok offer up their extensive alcohol collection and bring over some quality wines. Jimin, after a long three hours of consideration, gives up his lucky plushies and fluffy blankets to build a fort. 

For one night, the seven boys crowds around the television, watching everything from The Lorax to Tangled to Frozen and bawling their eyes out when Anna turned to ice (spoiler alert!!!) For one night, the fully grown men all turn back into their 8 year old selves, playing video games and staying up as late as they wanted even though they all had responsibilities to tend to the next day. 

When they all awake from their mega-sleepover the next morning, the remaining six friends all insist they just felt like watching Disney movies and drinking wine suddenly. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Namjoon’s been feeling a little off in the past few days. 

Absolutely not. 

Namjoon’s eyes brim with tears and he tackles all the boys to the ground in one incredibly coordinated group hug, ignoring Yoongi’s complaints of being anti-social and that his love language is not physical touch. 

“Thanks, guys.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jungkook mutters. “Now could you please get the fuck off?” 

“Never.” Namjoon says, muffled because he says it while his head is buried in Hoseok’s chest. 

“Love you.”

“... Love you too.” 

The next time he falls, Namjoon thinks he’s prepared. Ready, not to get attached, ready to make clear of what belongs in his world and what doesn’t, after lots of pep talks and therapy sessions with Seokjin and Jimin and Yoongi, who is surprisingly helpful with shooting down ideals of toxic masculinity and talking about mental health. 

He’s wrong- he’s not ready, but he doesn’t know that yet. 

Click. 

He’s come to resent that stupid sound. In an instant, he’s dropped into a car, which is strangely familiar. You are next to him, driving, and thank goodness, because everyone knows Namjoon cannot drive. If he were dropped in the driver’s seat, things may have taken a turn for the worse. 

“You want to play some music?” You ask, and Namjoon nods. 

“Yeah sure, turn up the radio.” You reach over to flip a switch and a pretty tune fills the car, echoing and bouncing off the walls of the small vessel. You bring your hand down and interlace it with Namjoon’s, who is suddenly hyper aware of his surroundings. 

“You’re driving, baby.” He says, and a great sense of relief floods back into his system when he sees you smile at the pet name. He hopes this moment is after the Hong Kong trip. He hopes he did the right thing and made up with you afterwards. 

“We always do this. When there’s not many cars around, anyway.” You hum along with the music. “Nobody’s on the road tonight.” Sure enough, there are no cars in sight and Namjoon sighs, curling his hand tight against yours. He looks out the window. 

“No stars tonight, either.” 

You snort. “There are never any stars around the city, babe.”

“Ahh.” He huffs playfully. “Fuck global warming.”

“Fuck capatalism.” You add on, and he nods, wholeheartedly agreeing. 

“I love you.” He murmurs. 

“I love you too.” You reply with a sweet smile and Namjoon just realises that no, he’s not ready to let go of you, because his heart still flips like crazy when he hears you say that. He’s so unbearably, horribly, absolutely in love with you. Not in a creepy or obsessive way like he was probably in love with you a few months ago, but so in love with you. 

He wonders why on earth he’s so drawn to you, but as usual, there’s no definite answers to his questions. Namjoon thinks about how he likes the way you cook pancakes, and how he likes the way you always reach down to pet a puppy no matter where you are or where you need to be. He loves the way you’d give up anything to defend the people you love. He admires your bravery and your courage. He admires the way you present yourself to the world. 

He loves you simply because you are who you are, unapologetically and unashamed, which is something he never had the guts to do. But he gets pretty damn near to being fully and truly himself when he’s around you, so maybe that’s why he’s so in love with you. 

Namjoon feels bad for a moment because he realises his love isn’t selfless or humble like the ones he sees on dramas and TV. His love for you is shamefully selfish, because he needs you more than anything else. He voices this out to you in a long speech while you keep your eyes on the road. 

“I need you more than you think I do, Joon.” You say, while laughing, and Namjoon doesn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved. 

“You think your love for me can trump my love for you?” He asks with his eyebrows raised.

“One hundred percent.” You drawl out, and this time, Namjoon’s offended. 

“Excuse me? Who the fuck?” He asks, sitting up. You laugh bashfully, enamoured but mostly just entertained by your needy boyfriend who is very willing to prove how much more he loves you right now. “I love you way more than you love me!” 

You laugh, your eyes still fixed on the road. “Oh no, please, we’re not arguing about this.”

“Yes we are!” Namjoon demands with a huge smile on his face. “How could you possibly think you love me more than I love you?” Your laugh only grows louder. 

“I don’t even know if you’re being serious or just joking around anymore.” You say through bit back laughter. 

“I’m being dead serious.” Namjoon softens for a bit, laying a hand on your thigh. “You’re my everything. You’re my future, you’re my present, you’re my past.” A part of you wants to tell him he’s being cheesy again, but the romantic in you who doesn’t want to hurt your boyfriend immediately shuts the realist in you up. 

“That was sweet.”

“I try my best.”

You turn your head back to the road and he keeps his eyes on you. On the hoodie you’re wearing, which definitely doesn’t belong to you and he now has a certain inkling of where his missing hoodie went. He likes how it swallows you up. He likes that you have something of his on you. 

Not as a weird mark of possession, but he likes that you’re comfortable with wearing something that essentially brands you as his. But you are his as much as he is yours and wow, Namjoon thinks in his head, is this the real Namjoon or the past Namjoon speaking? And his brain replies that it’s both. 

“I love you.” He repeats, because as much as he seems to say it, he can’t seem to express how much he loves you (hint: it’s a large amount). 

“I love you too.” You say right back. 

He wants to say it more. He wants to say it better. He wants to repeat it until you get annoyed and tell him to shut up, he wants to let you know how much he loves you. But his lips are sealed, and he can’t say another word. Instead of what he wants to say, the words that come out his mouth are, admittedly, just as true. 

“You’re pretty.” 

You giggle. “Did you just realise?” 

Namjoon shakes his head. “You’ve always been pretty. You were pretty on the day we met. You were pretty the day we fought in Hong Kong. You were pretty the first time you stayed over. You’re pretty when you cry, you’re pretty when you… I wanted to think of something that rhymes with cry, but it slipped my mind and now everything’s ruined.” 

You laugh, a real, huge one this time. He can always tell when your laugh is real or not. 

“Thank you.” You say. “For the record, you’ve always been pretty too.” 

Namjoon leans back into his seat. “Damn straight.” 

“When d’you think you first fell in love with me?” You ask, genuinely curious, and Namjoon thinks for a moment. He thinks about what the Namjoon in this moment would say, and he thinks about what the present Namjoon would say. 

If he had verbal control, what would he say? That he fell in love with you during the very first memory he was thrusted in? But that wouldn’t be true, and that wouldn’t be honest. He fell in love with you during the memory of when you met? But that wouldn’t be true either. He fell in love with you in between memories, when all he could think about was the next time you could be in his arms, or how much he longed for your touch. 

He tries to say that, he really does. 

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is: 

“I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a specific moment. Maybe it was that time we went to the movies and watched Coco while crying over popcorn, or maybe it was that time we went to Disneyland.” Namjoon’s heart slouches, because he doesn’t know any of those moments. He hasn’t been in any of those memories. 

“But I don’t think falling in love is a one moment, time stops kinda thing. I was always falling in love with you. From the time you spilled yogurt on my jacket to right now, where you’re asking me when I fell in love with you. I’m going to be falling in love with you tomorrow and the day after that, until the day where we shrivel up and die from old age.”

Oh, good answer, Namjoon thinks. 

“Good answer.” You say. “I think I’d say the same thing.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Namjoon sighs out. 

Something strikes Namjoon’s heart. It’s not the lead feeling or the heavy weight he’s grown used to. It’s strange, like a wave of deja vu. And suddenly, Namjoon stops thinking. He glances over to the control board to look at the time, which proudly reads: December 3rd, 2018. 

So that’s why he’s always had the feeling that these were memories. Why he was so adamant to believe these things really had happened to him. Even more strangely, what feelings strike him then is not panic, nor fear. It’s a strange flow of calmness that rushes through his veins. He looks over at you again, driving now with both hands on the steering wheel. 

He wonders why the deity would make him witness something as cruel and horrible as this, and he gets the weird feeling that this will be one of his last memories to enter. Namjoon looks at the dark blanket covering the sky and sadly thinks that the deity could have at least placed a few stars in the sky on this night. As consolation, or perhaps an apology. 

Something is ticking in the background, and Namjoon has no idea if it’s coming from the car or if he’s imagining it. Flashing memories go through his mind, so fast he can barely register them as images or moving pictures before they are gone again. Your smile, your laugh, your first date, your second date. The day he asked you to move in, the day you told him ‘I love you’ for the first time and he literally fainted. 

The day he came to pick you up from work for the first time, the night where he first laid his hands on you and kissed all your worries away. 

It comes fast and hurtles towards the two of you, but Namjoon doesn’t even see it coming because all he is looking at is you. Your face, your lips, your eyes, trying to engrave it all in his memory. You yelp out something to him, which he doesn’t hear. Floating images spin around both your heads and a high pitched screech rings out, a spark of orange lighting up like a stack of fireworks. The dark van shoots forward and collides into the driver’s seat. 

The world collapses. It goes sideways, rotates then flips completely upside down, and the dark fog starts to eat up Namjoon’s eyesight. Oddly, nothing hurts. Perhaps because of the shock, or panic, but nothing on Namjoon’s body is in pain. Everything crashes, Namjoon’s head hits the window with force. Something breaks, glass cracks, people scream and he cannot tell which is which. Red and white flashes are all he can see before everything fades to grey and he can only reach around in the darkness, to find your hand. 

He clutches onto your unmoving, still hand desperately, trying to calm his jumping heartbeat. Are those sirens in the background he hears or is that his imagination? Is that your voice he hears or is that a hallucination? 

In the end, his final thought before leaving the world once again is a wish. A wish that he prays the deity will grant him. He hopes that in your final moments, you were not scared. 

He falls. 

When Namjoon arrives home, his entire body is numb. He doesn’t know where he is, nor what he was doing before he was clicked in. He opens his mouth and screams for a full minute without stopping. 

It feels good in a fucked up way. 

Namjoon has never been one for confrontation. Just ask his middle school bullies, who tormented him all they wanted because he wouldn’t do anything but put up with it. Just ask Mingyu from work, who keeps piling his unwanted projects and articles onto Namjoon because he never protests or complains to the higher-ups. 

But while walking towards his childhood home with the birds chirping and his hands placed casually in his pockets, confrontation is all he can think about. He lets himself in the door; his mother never locks it and walks in calmly. 

His mother is sitting on the couch, stitching up a sock which has a hole in it. 

“Mom. I’m home.” He says softly, and his mother greets him normally. Namjoon leans on the wall and his mother stares at him strangely, calling him over to sit and have some fruit. He declines, telling her he won’t be staying very long. “That car crash that happened two years ago.”

The needle in his mother’s hand stills. 

“They said I had selective amnesia, right?” 

The needle picks up speed, stitching faster and faster, his mother’s hand moving faster than light. 

“What did I forget again?” 

“What did you remember?” His mother asks, never one to beat around the bush. 

“Mom.” He says, firmly this time. “What did you do to me.”

The sock is torn apart in his mother’s hands. “Namjoon,” She starts and Namjoon already has a growing urge to shake the truth out of her. “When you got into that crash two years ago, you came out of it with very little injuries. We were all so relieved. When you woke up, you didn’t remember Y/N.” All that fills the air for another moment or two is the spongy sound of silence. 

The gap in this family became clearer than ever to Namjoon. He thinks about how everyone must have been in on the secret, even his sister. And he was left to suffer, wondering why his life seemed so empty after forgetting something he couldn’t clutch onto. 

“And what?” He demands, screaming and throwing his hands out of his pockets. “Do you think you can just keep something like that from me? The love of my life, and you just decide to erase them from my memory?” His mother stills and looks up at her son. 

“You didn’t remember Y/N. You lost contact with all your college friends, and then when I asked the doctor how selective amnesia worked,” His mother cleared her throat. “Sufferers often forget some parts of their memory. Relationships, talents, skills, certain areas or certain people.” His mother looks up directly in his eyes. “Sometimes, especially after going through a traumatic event, people forget certain parts of their memory as a coping mechanism. To erase bits of pain and regret.”

“I thought,” Her voice breaks and her face twists in regret and bad memories. “I thought maybe by forgetting her, I’d be saving you from more pain and hurt. I just wanted you to stop hurting”

Namjoon held eye contact with his mother for three full seconds before collapsing and gasping for air, lying with his head on her lap. All words of scolding, anger. All the confrontational tactics and all the accusations he’d thought of shooting towards her had gone. 

“Hurts.” He let out through large gasps of breaths. “Hurts, mom.” He lied there, with tears threatening to spill out his eyes for the rest of the night, with his mother caressing his hair and apologising to him with tears in her eyes. 

“Miss Y/N. I miss Y/N.” He hiccups out, and his mother wipes away his tears, but it feels different from when you used to do it. 

“I know, I know.” The woman looking down at her son wonders why she put him in so much pain. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” The night carries on like that, with the lights eventually dimming and the night covers up the light in the sky. The mother son pair repeat their grievances and apologies to each other until the sun comes back up, peeking through the curtains and extending out their warm embrace as if it wants to comfort the hurting humans. 

It doesn’t take long for Seokjin and co to come knocking on his door, sent by his mother who must have filled him in on everything, judging from the looks on their faces. It only takes one single glance at his friends, tilting their heads and all asking to come in for him to burst into tears. Ugly crying, with snot coming out of his nose and eyes bloodshot red from the nightmares. 

Jimin is the first to reach forwards and bring Namjoon into a hug. Soon after that, the six friends surrounded Namjoon, comforting him with the warmth of their arms and soft spoken words of encouragement. 

“You did well.” Someone mumbles into his hair. 

“We’re all proud of you.” Someone else says. 

Namjoon’s sweater sleeves are sopping wet with tears when he asks the boys to help him get into therapy. 

Things went on like that for another while. 

Therapy isn’t as bad as Namjoon had thought it might’ve been. He wasn’t forced to be vulnerable or open up or confront his worst fears. He certainly didn’t want to tell the truth about the world he’s thrusted in, for fear of getting thrown out of the building and into a mental institution. 

Even his mother didn’t believe him the first time he told her about it. She urged him to visit a doctor. How could a therapist who doesn’t even know him believe the nonsense he spouts? Even he himself wouldn’t believe himself if he hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Slowly, but surely, he began to open up, and to his surprise, there was no calling of hospitals or kicking him out. His therapist sat there and listened like everything he was saying was valid. 

He started eating again, mostly because of Seokjin, stuffing his creations down everyone’s throats every two seconds, claiming he needs opinions on his new recipes even though Namjoon’s fairly certain that the past three dishes of spaghetti were the exact same recipe. 

Namjoon started to workout again with Jungkook, much to the younger boy’s surprise and happiness. They talked about their own struggles while panting on the treadmill and spinner. Jungkook eventually tells him that he also has a secret he keeps from the rest of the guys, which is his high school sweetheart who broke his heart so horribly that he still feels hurt from it. 

Jungkook told him to cheer up though, because most of the pain fades away with time. It’s still there, ever as present, but other things will become more important to you and cover up a scar or a wound with blooming flowers. 

“Like us,” He said cheekily. “Your friends.” 

He talked to Yoongi most days of the week about nothing in particular. He enjoys the time with Yoongi because he’s the only one who never walks on eggshells around him. He still pelts him with pillows and roasts the outfits on Rupaul’s Drag Race with him. Taehyung and Jimin even helped him adopt a dog, an furry white Eskimo named Rap Mon which is literally now Namjoon’s entire life. 

Would likely kill all of his friends if one of them hurt his precious baby. 

Life is good, Namjoon learns. He gets better at his job. He never forgets you, but things seem to hurt less. But he gets relapses sometimes. Some days he wakes up screaming about the stupid lead filling up his throat. Sometimes he gets nightmares so intense he has to take medicine.

Therapy isn’t as bad as he painted it out to be, but recovery is ten times harder than he thought it would be. Some days all he can do is lie in bed or do nothing, thinking of you. 

His therapist tells him that his life is more than his past memories. Both Yoongi and Hoseok agree, when he pulled up a random conversation about it late at night. Hoseok says that there’s never going to be a time where he won’t think of you, or still love you. Perhaps not as much as he once did, but he’ll never forget about you. Yoongi tells him he’s healing, and that they’re all proud of him.

Namjoon meets his friends, for the first time in the two years he’s known them. Taehyung has an extraordinary and (slightly strange) obsession over art museums. He’s been to almost every single one in Korea, and he dragged Namjoon over to one an hour away in Gangnam in the summer. Jimin is an amazing dancer, which Namjoon never knew.

Until Jimin brought it up casually, looking through old footage of his dance competitions. “Nothing big,” He said. “I used to dabble.” Namjoon’s eyes bulged out of his head and he told Jimin if that was ‘dabbling’, then he was wasting away his talent. He asked Jimin why he never made a career out of dance, and Jimin replied casually:

“I feel like if I start to make money off of it, and I’ll lose my love for it. Now that I haven’t really has time for it... I dunno. I feel like I’ve lost the talent a little bit.“

Namjoon told his friend that talent is nothing but a bunch of practice and time dedicated to a certain skill. Nobody loses talent, people just get a little unfamiliar with it. Jimin turned around in deep thought and told him he may just have a point. 

Still, some days, he can do nothing but sulk around, feeling like a waste of space. Take today for an example. He walks down the street and out of the corner of his eye, he thinks, and he might be wrong, he thinks he sees you. The back of your head, anyways, but you’re wearing a red sweater with headphones over your ears and you turn around the corner. 

Namjoon panics. He drops his coffee, which splashes all over his leather shoes and runs. He runs past the corner and he doesn’t know what on earth he’s doing but all he can do is run, and the wind dries his tears faster and faster, and he forgets all over again, that you aren’t here, that there’s no way he can go back and see you unless it’s in his memories, which he doesn’t even know how to control. 

Somewhere deep in the depths of his mind, he knows something about this doesn’t seem right. That it couldn’t possibly be you, because he watched you go right in front of his eyes. He knows that in order to heal, he can’t chase after you or center his world around you. He knows all of that. But in that moment, he forgets that he still doesn’t remember everything about you. 

He forgets that you’re dead. 

And one day he’ll be free from this constant spinning. One day he won’t ever have to think twice when he cooks pancakes but that day and all that work he’s put in is the last thing on Namjoon’s mind and all he can think about is if that’s really you. 

He sprints faster and reaches out, misses your wrist by an inch and ends up clutching at nothing but air. He heaves a huge breath, about to clap his hand over your shoulder-

Click. 

tags; @jksbbyfacebunny @extremeobsessions101 @dwcljh @bishuthot @s0seo @stonyiscanon @cecedrake2217​ 

#bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts fic recs #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #bts icons #bts fic #namjoon fic #namjoon x you #bts cute #bts scenarios #bts imagines #namjoon headcanon #time travel bts #bts rm #namjoon au