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#but aside from the stated. i don’t remember most of my elementary years. just first and sixth. then middle school when she came back

cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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Amnesia (Jaehyun x reader)

tw : amnesia, crazy parents, drunk driver accident, failed attempt to write an angst

a/n : hello, so I read this work I left since December 2020 but yeah I read this and turns out I want to know if this is interesting enough to have another chapter to finish the story or not. If not then it's okay I'll just leave it here, but if you're curious I can try work it out.

tagging @charmingyong @neopalette .. @yutahoes and @swagmonsterofficial who can probably help me with the writer's block . you too readers. help me finish this story :))) thxxx

The thing you fear the most in this life is the day where you lost your memories. Memories of everything important in your life. You've been so afraid of not remembering things, mostly because the doctrine of your parents planted inside your brain.

"Look at your brother, Doyoung, he aces all of his tests, have time to do sports, sings well, proper manners, and always practicing doing his best. You too should think of being like him."

For sixteen years you're always compared to him. For sixteen years you worked your brain off to memorize extended classes you were forced to take. For sixteen years you faked your identity in order to look smart. For sixteen years you pray with all your might nothing bad will happen to you that involves a reset button to your brain.

That day happened, on your last year of high school where you've prepared yourself for the national entrance test. You've forced your brain to memorize everything, maximizes all you know since young age, and even pushed your other desires aside (not that it is new, you never put your desire first)

You start preparing it one year prior

"Don't go too hard (y/n)... I know you can do this," your boyfriend (secret boyfriend) calls you when he checks on you.

"Oh Jaehyun-ah, as much as I want to slack off there is no way I'll live in peace if I score lower than Doyoung's." You reply him as you flip through some sets of questions.

Jaehyun sighs from the other end of the call "And your brother scored perfect?"

You hum "Actually yes he did."

"Did your parents really love you? Why are they torturing you this way... I remember playing when I was younger and yet I made it to this stage." The young future psychologist boasted.

Jaehyun is actually the same age as your brother, he is Doyoung's friend and he knew you from visiting Doyoung back then in high school. He secretly learns about your name and even your number, since then he's been calling you and giving you all the love, you could never get from your family.

"I study psychology and what they're doing is not good." Jaehyun lays down on his bed. As much as he questions himself why he wanted to date you he can't answer it.

His friends had been telling him to break up with you because you're just going to make his life hard since your parents went too hard on you. But his heart screams that he needs to help this little girl he secretly feels bad. Jaehyun saw you sitting on your room sticking your nose to a book he thought was a middle school's book... when you were just graduating elementary. He was pretty sure you're not happy and even Doyoung secretly spills the hidden feeling that he doesn't like seeing his sister treated that way.

He remembers the conversation he had with his bestfriend on that summer vacation

"Make it stop then Doyoung..." jaehyun said as he played with a soccer ball inside the big room.

Doyoung sighed "I tried Jae, but mom and dad didn't seem to listen. They just told me they wanted the best for (y/n) and that by pushing her she'll find her way to be successful."

Jaehyun snorted "Gosh I'm glad my parents are not like yours."

Doyoung massaged his nose bridge "I even tried messing up my scores, but I earned myself detention and she was told to never be like me. Look I tried rebelling, but they're not fazed."

Jaehyun rolled his eyes "Want to escape to my house? Take (y/n) too maybe..."

Doyoung buried his face on his hands "Oh I wish Jae! I am also hating this, but I'll be dead and if this involves (y/n) I'm double dead because," Doyoung fixed his posture and mimicked his parents "Doyoung you're the brother here, a gentleman will always protect a lady and (y/n) is your sister and she's a girl."

"Damn it. Jae, I need that scholarship!" Doyoung groaned.

Jaehyun nodded "The one offering a seat in USA? Go for it. I didn't see why you hesitated... with that brain you didn't need to study and still get perfect."

Doyoung went silent for a minute "But won't I just make her life harder? Who will help her if I am not here?"

Jaehyun snickered "As if you have been helping her at all... take that chance. I'll look after (y/n) she's already like my little sister."

Doyoung couldn't thank Jaehyun enough when he hugged his friend before leaving to the states.

Doyoung hugged you too and secretly whispered "Jae is my substitute, please please promise me you will be honest with him and tell him whatever you're feeling. I'll see you in the states! Girl this is your chance to leave the dark alley." Doyoung wiped your tear that left your eyes. Well Your brother has been secretly sneaking from his room to teach you things you still cannot understand when you're younger. He kept on apologizing for the situation you both live in... but you can't totally blame him too. In this life if someone asked you who were the most important person, you'll say it's Doyoung then Jaehyun.

In the meantime

"Look Jae, I need that scholarship... Doyoung is waiting for me. He's been telling me life is not that gloomy." You sound so hopeful and Jaehyun doesn't want to spoil your small happiness.

He sighs "Fine, you've learned enough! Please a good rest is also important."

"Yeah yeah say that to my parents and see if you got slapped." You giggled and Jaehyun noted that. Well he had been noting your behaviour too and planned to make you his first journal subject.

"Look I love you okay, don't tire yourself too much. Drink water, stay healthy and sleep." He bids you goodbye and little did you know that was probably the last night you could sit in your room and absorbed new materials inside your brain.

For the next day when you got home from school, you never made it back home. You did not remember anything, only a loud horn and your body hitting the asphalt. Your ear rang and your eyes went dark.

Your parents were crying when they heard the news of you getting hit by a car and it was a drunk driving accident. Jaehyun left his class when Doyoung texted him about you. Well Doyoung was called in the middle of the night and he was more than broken hearted to hear this.

Jaehyun was shocked when he heard the news, but he was more shocked when he sees your parents are there weeping like how parents love their children so much and super afraid of losing them.

He wonders why they would treat you so strict if they love you this much. Well some people say that is their way of showing love, but for rational people Jaehyun disagree how hard your parents were on you and your brother.

Your mother recognized Jaehyun and explained everything that happened.

Jaehyun's heart broke when the paramedics informed them on the next day that you got the amnesia.

Your parents cried maybe because it is the natural way to act, but Jaehyun's world collapsed when he remembered you telling him the worst thing you fear is waking up with a blank brain.

It took you some days to wake up from your coma, considering that you also had some broken bones and some operations are done on your body, Jaehyun's glad you woke up four days after the accident.

He saw it the first time you open your eyes and you squinted all around he saw the slight tremble you had in your eyes.

Though he's not sure if you have amnesia you could remember fearing this to happen, but he believed your heart remembered this fear and showed how scared you are.

The doctor ran the first test and you happened to know basic things like your name and at least your parents. You know their faces but not their names and Jaehyun, it took you some time but the glint of hope in your eyes was enough to let Jaehyun feels not left out.

"Jae" you whisper, and the doctors were delighted when you could mention his name.

Your parents were crying, feeling super sad that their daughter had to go through this but once you got a time alone with Jaehyun you couldn't cry nor can you laugh.

"Jae," that is all you can think of.

You move your hands and find them fascinating. Jaehyun wanted to cry, it's as if you're a baby discovering new things you can do again. This is the same girl who understand chemistry even when she's just eleven! The girl who speaks five languages fluently, the same girl who can play the hardest piano piece, the same girl who was forced to be perfect and she did it she was perfect but she lost everything she worked super hard for.... within one blink of an eye. For the first time after several years, Jaehyun cried his heart out in silence alone in his bedroom.

For two months you were on a therapy session to regain your memories and some of them are coming back. Jaehyun took a break on his school, saying he is doing a research (well he didn't lie) but mostly because he needs to and wants to take care of you. He didn't want your parents to ruin this golden chance of him fixing you (he wishes)

"Name?" Jaehyun asks every time he visited you. You could answer that easily "(y/n)"

"Siblings?" You could also answer that "Doyoung."

It took you sessions to find a trigger word that could bring more memories back.

"Books?" The doctor once asked and you blanked out. Your body shakes and the traumatic experience of being forced to read from a young age came into you.

"Books?" The therapist asks again when you kept quiet. Jaehyun sits next to you, holding your hand and he frowns when your grip tightens.

"Hell." Was all you say before clenching your fist and holding your head from throbbing so much.

You woke up on your private room already Jaehyun happens to be writing down the notes from today's session.

"I saw some memories Jae. What month is this?" You asked out of the blue

"No don't ask me questions. Rest (y/n)" Jaehyun tried to divert your attention.

"Month Jae!" You scream and right on time a nurse came in she heard your question and easily answered “November?"

You count and stared in horror "The test... 8 months left Jae! How can I memorize what I've learnt since baby to now?!"

The nurse was surprised maybe by your burst of words or just surprised by your sentence and Jaehyun shot her a dead glare.

She quickly changed your IV and left after seeing your panic stage.

You were shaking, nerves suddenly transmitting traumatic memories and you cried when you tried to remember everything you've worked super hard on... gone with one accident.

"(Y/n) calm down. Forget that! forget that test! You need to heal yourself first." Jaehyun holds you back from your panic attack.

Your parents saw you frantically shake on your bed with Jaehyun trying his best to calm you down. They ran to your side and when they heard what you said, their heart broke and for the first time your parents realized they've been doing the wrong thing to you.

"Mother is sorry, please (y/n).. honey" she cried... if your mind is right, you'll choke up for she never calls you sweet names, but you have no recollection of that, "honey please forget that test. Forgive me and dad for being too hard on you. Please my one and only precious daughter... just heal yourself first. You don't have to take the test now. Calm down."

Actually, Jaehyun finally talked to your parents, he talked politely about the way your parents raised both you and Doyoung in a wrong way. No, he didn't blame your parents for wanting the best, he just told them they shouldn't be comparing child and shouldn't put too much force on something one doesn't like. He explained the effect you had growing up like that and your mom was crying when she heard Jaehyun's easy explanation.

"We're sorry... now how do we fix this?" Your mother asked to the young man across him.

"If you let me, this is a new blank page. Like a reset button, though (y/n) might get fragments of the dark memories, but we can at least rewrite the pages and put in more love and joy into her life."

Your parents both agreed and let Jaehyun does his best to fix their mistakes.

So here you are, sitting on your bed for the third month already, mind still somehow fuzzy and you always stare at your room with blank face. You noticed the plain walls and when you arrived at your home, the grand piano greeted you, but you were confused of the big thing.

"Hey (y/n)," Jaehyun greets you when he comes into your room, "Hungry?" He asks first thing first after you wake up.

You nod your head and notice the lack of food on his hand.

"No breakfast?" Your face shows confusion.

Yes you were eating breakfast on bed for one month, mostly because your doctor also told you to not use your legs too much, but Jae saw it is quite the time you learn to walk and eat properly.

"There is, but not here. Come, we will eat properly." Jaehyun helps you stand, and he walks you to the dining table.

There you sit down, eyes empty as you scan the room, still unable to remember where and what is this place.

Your maid comes with a plate of your favorite breakfast. You look at Jaehyun with expecting eyes, he usually sits on the side of your table and feeds you. All you have to do is wait for the food to come into your mouth!

"Jae?" You question him when he picks up his own knife and fork then he digs into his own plate.

You watch him and he speaks up "Copy me."

You pick up the fork and knife, take the detail and switch the position when Jaehyun shows the right way.

He sees you struggle with your knife still and chooses to cut it for you. He returns the plate with small chunks of eggs and sausages then pushes it back to you.

"Now, eat." He continues doing his activity and with trembling hand (because everything is like you learning from basic) and slow but steady you can eat by yourself.

Jaehyun smiles with adoration, he couldn't deny you're actually smart like gifted smart... he thought there was no way someone could live like you and Doyoung if they do not have a bright basic.

"Delicious?" Jaehyun asks after you finish your plate.

You nod "Thank you" and both your eyes and his open wide.

"Did I just say thank you?" You also sound surprised.

Jaehyun nods "I mean i haven't remind you about table manners, but as expected that big brain is not completely blank, I guess."

The day continues with Jaehyun teaching you some more basic knowledge, you sit down on the sofa and your eyes bore into the big grand piano. Jaehyun noticed ever since you came home you seemed super curious about it. He is not the best pianist, but he can play some songs.

"Come, I think you're interested in this." Jaehyun sits you on a chair beside the piano and he takes his seat.

"Okay I am not as good as you, but let's try this. maybe music can bring back my (y/n)." Jaehyun plays some keys to warm up his fingers and he didn't see the sudden surprise you have in your eyes.

Jaehyun plays a simple piece of your favorite sad song, Clair de Lune. He said he wasn't a great player, but here he is confidently playing one song from the master part.

You clap your hands astonished when he finishes half of the song and surprise him with what you say next.

"That is beautiful. Why did you stop?"

Jaehyun wants to scream, music brings you back? Did your brain forget everything else that is painful to you, but not music because it's the only thing you do with love?

"Want to try?" Jaehyun stands up and helps you get comfortable.

Your eyebrow knits together when you first eye the black and white keys and then after placing two hands over them and closing your eyes, as if it's muscle memories your finger expertly play the same piece Jaehyun showed you, but this time you finished the whole song.

Jaehyun has this recorded and if he knew this earlier, he would've made you sit here and play more music. He notes how your eyes glimmer when your fingers still remember the song and for once Jaehyun saw a willing to live in your eyes.

to be continued... (or not if this is not interesting to read :D)

tell me should I continue or not? and make this happy end or sad end?

#jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun oneshot #nct angst #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagines

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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An Attempted Timeline: Kochou Shinobu

Very open to feedback, because canon is as spread out as Muzan after his first date with Sun Breathing. Instead of tracking the year or distance from current timeline, we shall track this by Shinobu’s age (roughly, in most spots). Despite being centered around Shinobu’s life events, I’m also diving into Aoi’s life, the other Pillars’ timelines of life events too, and doing some conjecture about Shinobu’s deceased Tsuguko. Should be obvious, but spoilers ahead.

Childhood: Raised by kind parents who possessed medical knowledge. Sometime around elementary school age (at the oldest, I’d put her at 11, but probably younger), parents are killed by a demon, house is demolished, and she and Kanae are rescued by Himejima (who was maybe around 20 or younger at the time), who hands them off to the Kakushi. After the funeral for their parents, she and Kanae seek out Himejima for training, and after a little time with them he sends them to separate cultivators (according to the light novel chapter “One Winged Butterfly.”) Training under cultivators usually takes about a year. She and Kanae perhaps passed the Final Selection when Shinobu was around 12-ish, give or take. (For setting and comparison’s sake, Kagaya and Amane have long since already been married and Kiriya is already born.) Whether Kanae becomes a Pillar first or they establish the hospital at the Butterfly Mansion first is unclear, but these events happen relatively quickly. I suspect they might have had access to a lot of savings from their parents. Furthermore, this makes Kanae one of the many Pillars in the recent generation who blows that “it usually takes five years to become a Pillar” Taisho Secret away. (As an aside, maybe the reason the Corp as a whole seems to be full of weaklings is because the current Pillars have sucked up all the amazingness, but I digress.)

The Butterfly Mansion’s hospital was established long before Sanemi became a Pillar (according to the light novel chapter “Signpost of the Wind”). Sometime after Kanae becomes a Pillar, Sanemi becomes a Pillar. Giyuu was a Pillar before Sanemi was; the three of them were the same age. My guess is that Shinobu was around 13 when Kanae became a Pillar, putting Kanae and Sanemi around ages 15ish~17 when they would have had chances to interact. For comparison, Giyuu and Sabito were 13 at the time of the Final Selection, so Giyuu would had already been in the Corp longer than Kanae and Shinobu.

The following events either happened very quickly or unfolded over the course of a couple years:

Aoi (likely the the same age as Kanao) comes into their care (she preceded Kanao since she was there for Kanao’s naming, according to Taisho Secrets and second fanbook)*

Kanao (two years younger than Shinobu but much smaller, and given how petite Shinobu is, I can only assume this is because of how malnourished Kanao was) is adopted as their little sister on some May 19 (the anime seems to put the event in winter, but I assume it was already in production before the first fanbook was published with that detail)

Kanao has ample opportunity to observe Kanae’s Flower Breathing and learn by watching

Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho come into the fold (separately or all at once, though not as relatives)

Kanae is killed by Douma (Shinobu is age 14, one of the only pieces of this timeline we can be certain of). As she wished in her dying moments for Shinobu to live a normal life, she may or may not have had Shinobu as her Tsuguko, or had any Tsuguko at all.

Shinobu, age 14, becomes the head of the Butterfly Mansion household, where she already has five adoptive/pseudo younger sisters. At this point she takes on a cheerful personality, as well as probably set her heart on becoming a Pillar as soon as possible and becoming strong enough to defeat the demon that killed Kanae.

*Aoi’s circumstances are important (and curious) because the second fanbook tells us both that she practiced Water Breathing and that she passed the same Final Selection as Muichiro. Since Muichiro became a Pillar two months after taking up the sword, that means he went almost straight from sword to Final Selection to Pillar. We don’t know how much recovery time he needed after losing Yuichiro at age 11, because he wasn’t among the Pillars in the Rengoku Gaiden, so he perhaps only started practicing the sword closer to late 12 or age 13 (putting Aoi around 14, 15-ish when she passed the Final Selection, and presumably quit the sword right after that). It’s interesting to note what a different relationship Aoi has with Shinobu than Kanao does, especially since Aoi was there first but Kanao was adopted as a sister in a more all-encompassing sense. I suspect (and am putting this in italics for conjecture): Due to whatever circumstances with her Water Breath cultivator (possibly difficulty in housing a lone girl among a bunch of male students), Aoi needed to live elsewhere during her training. The Butterfly Mansion was a good spot, so Kanae and Shinobu agreed, like sponsoring a junior, and in exchange Aoi helped out around the house and hospital. Aoi kept her own last name, as she had her own family to avenge. When Kanao came in, it was purely out of wanting to help an orphan who wound up staying with them instead of being adopted out, which is why she was given a family identity and an opportunity to take the Kochou name if she wanted to (or even Aoi’s family name). They were probably treated differently because of the nature of how they came in and an assumption that Aoi would leave as soon as she entered the Corp. As Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi came in, it was a weird middle ground of whether they were just looked after until something better for them came along or if they were adopted as sisters as fully as Kanao was. Ultimately, they still retained a lot of their identities from before they were orphaned, and it was more of a pseudo-sisterhood, which Aoi had sort of fallen into as well. But, once Aoi entered the Corp and then quit the sword, she probably didn’t feel she could turn to her cultivator for any help, so at that point Shinobu took more full responsibility for her as a permanent household member.

Moving back on to Shinobu’s timeline, if I’m remembering the Giyuu Gaiden correctly (it’s been a while since I read it so I don’t recall exactly), that story took place shortly after Giyuu sent Tanjiro and Nezuko to Urokodaki, and it was also shortly after Shinobu became a Pillar. Since Tanjiro took two years to train after that, that would put her at age 16. Since Kanao joined the Corp in the same batch as Tanjiro, that means Shinobu would have had about two years between becoming a Pillar and taking Kanao as her official Tsuguko (I stress ‘official’ because it comes with distinction Tengen respects, it’s not casual “sure, I’ll look after you” thing). In that time, she had (at least) three other previous Tsuguko, all girls given butterfly hairpins, and who were all killed by demons in that two year period.

Conjecture about Shinobu and these Tsuguko:

Knowing how likely she is to be killed before she has an opportunity to avenge Kanae, Shinobu was likely in a hurry to train a Tsuguko and started trying to pass her knowledge on right away. It’s possible they were even closer in age to her than Kanao, maybe even older, and quite possibly physically stronger. It’s possible they were trained under Flower Breathing cultivators and still used that Breath, which would have given Kanao opportunities to learn by watching. That said, Shinobu doesn’t mention or think back to her Tsuguko often, and they never appear in Kanao’s flashbacks, though their deaths are some of the little pieces that strengthen her resolve to slay demons (she seems to care more about how her pseudo-sisters’ families were killed by them). My guess is that Shinobu made a clear divide between family and work, so as to protect the little girls from getting attached to more people who were likely to be taken away from them. Likely, her Tsuguko and the Butterfly Mansion girls resided in separate spaces and had very little interaction, and their Pillar/Tsuguko relationship was kept very formal so they could all focus on their demon slaying goals (albeit they were probably fond of each other anyway, signified by the butterfly hairpins).

In that two year period, the following events occur in roughly this order:

Rengoku become a Pillar (around age 18 or 19, and since he was raised practicing Flame Breathing he probably finished the Final Selection around age 12 or 13, so it clearly took him a more normal period of time to become a Pillar. But, despite being naturally gifted with strength his mother recognized, this drives home how hard he needed to work to overcome a perceived lack of “talent.”)

Iguro becomes a Pillar (around age 19 or 20, so he likely had worked at it a long time)

Aoi passes the Final Selection and quits the sword (thereby leaving Shinobu able to leave most of the hospital and household work to her since she’s no longer training), Muichirio becomes a Pillar (around age 12 or 13, genius-level speed at attaining Pillarhood)

Mitsuri becomes a Pillar (around age 18 or 19--a friend, yay! Also someone who became a Pillar way faster than normal.)

On these note, please also me to jump backwards a few years to when Kanae was still alive. Uzui had to have been a Pillar by at least age 18, but given the state of Ubuyashiki’s illness, probably a lot earlier than that, and he probably didn’t take very long to become a Pillar after entering the Corp. Since Giyuu was already a Pillar in Sanemi’s flashback, then he attained Pillarhood by, at the very oldest, age 17, so it took him four years or less. Interesting that in all these four or more years he’s been convinced the position is vacant, there’s no one else who performs Pillar-worthy achievement in the Corp’s most widely used Breath style. That really drives home the difference between the Pillars and the average cannon fodder. (Also worth noting, the Kamaboko Squad’s progression seems to fall somewhere in the middle; right to the very end the Taisho Secrets state how Tanjiro was still far from mastering Hinokami Kagura.)

At late 17 or age 18, two events occur:

Shinobu begins filling her body with poison for the sake of exacting revenge, knowing she will likely be eaten (she began about a year before the Pillar Training arc)

Kanao sneaks out to the Final Selection of her own will and with self-studied Flower Breathing, officially becomes a member of the Corp. Shinobu worries Kanao was just doing this because it’s what everyone around her does, as Kanao cannot express that she’s built her own hatred for demons.

Shinobu makes Kanao her Tsuguko almost right away, making the following changes (conjecture in italics):

Teaching her proper Breathing and sword technique (and the little girls witness her quick progress with blowing up gourds)

Instructing her very simply just to focus on cutting on demons’ heads so that she doesn’t get caught up in indecision on the battlefield

Censuring Kanao a bit for her choice to go against her sisters’ wishes and take up the sword, for now she risks death and giving the other pseudo-sisters yet another person to grieve. Given the risky nature of their work, Shinobu feels forced to treat her the same strict way she treated her Tsuguko instead of treat her as a sister. Kanao accepts this and goes from treating Shinobu as her sister to treating her as her master (calling her “Shihan” instead of “Shinobu-neesan”).

Over the course of the events of canon, Tanjiro and company spend a very large portion of their time in recovery at the Butterfly Mansion (even if a large portion of that time is spent unconscious), they might as well be pseudo-adoptive little brothers. But, I suspect Shinobu bonds more readily with girls. Also in that time, Kanao speeds up the ranks (she attains Hinoto rank, the 7th of 10 ranks, while Tanjiro & co attain the one above that, Hinoe). Furthermore, thanks to Tanjiro’s influence, Kanao also makes leap and bounds in being able to express herself, like something finally broke through. This at last leaves Shinobu somewhat relieved, after maybe five years or so since she first adopted Kanao. By that time she is getting anxious about the impending final battles (and her death, which she has deemed inevitable but purposeful), and she tells Kanao the plan. And then Oyakata-sama is like, “heeeey, so I heard you want to be friends with demons, I got you one, her name is Tamayo.” (It’s possible he already told her he was planning to get Tamayo’s help and wanted her cooperation, but he didn’t actually approach Tamayo about it until after Pillar Training started (though by Kimetsu logic, it’s highly possible that the crow talking to Tamayo took place much earlier than when it was presented). I gotta wonder how quickly they worked to combine their research and if the other girls in the mansion had any idea who Tamayo and Yushiro were.

And then, at age 18 (or likely 19 given the progression of the series and very lengthy recovery periods, heck maybe even 20), Douma. Shinobu dies, Kanao switches back to calling her Shinobu-neesan instead of Shihan, Kanae’s butterfly hairpin which Kanao wore breaks in battles, Shinobu exacts her revenge on Douma while her efforts against Muzan are also in motion and then she reunites with Kanae and her parents in spirit, and Kanao wears Shinobu’s butterfly hairpin in the final showdown and then she makes Shinobu the surprise hero in the surprise final battle to save Tanjiro. It was a really long night, and a really short, busy life.

#Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayers #Kocho Shinobu #Kochou Shinobu #KnY fandom theories and meta

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gilisharufino · 2 years

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Autobiography “A Crescent Moon”

And just like the moon, we all have to go through the different phases of life, Sometimes the phase is bright, But it may also be gloomy. Nevertheless, all the phases I experienced in life made me the person I am today.

The first page of my life started at 8:20 am on September 18, 2004. When I first opened my eyes and was greeted by the soft gaze of my parents. This eventful day occurred at Capitol Medical Center, Quezon Avenue.

I don’t remember the events that occurred when I was a toddler aside from the stories my mother and father tell me from time to time. According to them, I was an adventurous little girl with confidence to the brim, a little girl who is very much talkative and a smart one as I was fond of learning new things. I also can’t forget when they told me that they got scared considering the possibility they might lose me because when I was almost two years old I got sick and my temperature was like touching a red hot burning iron. My pediatrician had a false diagnosis that I might be suffering from Kawasaki disease which caused my parents to feel extra worried but on the other hand, the second opinion diagnosis was more realistic and true which concluded that I was only suffering from tonsillitis. After being discharged from the hospital they celebrated my second birthday with colorful decorations and a variety of meals.

When I was four years old, I unlocked a new chapter in my life which is starting my journey of entering kindergarten. My parents decided to enroll me at PWU-JASMS. I made friends with the majority of my class, I was an active little girl who enjoyed socializing and making friends. I remember that I made three close friends during my kindergarten days. Jenna, Alex, and Jack. I was also commended by some of my teachers for being one of the most active students in class. I also recall once that my teacher was surprised when I answered her question correctly, despite the fact that I was having a conversation with my seatmate. I also took swimming lessons at ace water spa, and it helped me to acquire more skills in swimming.

Before I started my second year in kindergarten, I took a test that resulted in an acceleration offer to start grade one but my parents refused the reason being that they want me to enjoy my kindergarten journey rather than jump to the next chapter of my school life. During my second year of kindergarten, I was still the same, a bright little girl who is fearless of any challenge she faces. I also remember that we had a school event that was themed with Disney Fairytales and I dressed up as the character of a girl who ran away and ended up with a poison apple and a true loves kiss, snow white. At that time I thought life would always be like that, filled with happiness and easy challenges but the next events of my life proved my perspective wrong.

Before the end of my second year in kindergarten, I started to experience hair fall, which caused my hair to look thin and it made my parents worried enough to conclude that I might be sick. My parents brought me to a hair dermatologist and my doctor told us not to worry as I wasn’t suffering any worse condition and that it was just hair fall, but my doctor gave me a hair serum to help my hair grow back to its thickness state and to strengthen the roots and avoid hair fall. This was also the time when my mother defended me from one of my classmates and the mother of my said classmate who spread a rumor that I was suffering from a condition and should be avoided. Ever since then my mother was always there for me, which is why I have the closest bond with her.

Before I unlocked the next chapter of my school journey which is elementary, we traveled to Cebu. It was the first time I experienced traveling thirty thousand feet off the ground. We went to different tourist areas, I enjoyed the days we spent traveling around and trying out their local cuisines. I had a blast.

I felt excited to make new friends in the first few pages of my grade one life but I guess life doesn’t go the way you anticipate it to be as this was the first time I got bullied, But despite that, I was happy I still have my best friend, Jack, at that time.

In the middle of my grade one year I started to take taekwondo lessons, It was challenging but worth experiencing. I can still recall some of the skills I learned in terms of kicking with my legs high enough to reach the face of my supposed opponent at the time, I made friends with other kids the same as my age and It felt like I accomplished something. The rest of my grade one year wasn’t the best but I managed to push through.

When I entered the chapter of being a grade two student I met my bestfriend, Fiona, at that time we became inseparable. Whenever we go to the canteen we would look over the menu and order a plate consisting of newly cooked crispy brown bacon with a match of rich yellow yolk and the creamy consistency of the silky smooth egg white and the rice infused with rich garlic. I also remember before that I have this classmate who wanted answers from my newly checked quiz paper in math class but I declined, so in return she placed a pair of oily cooked spam from her lunch box on my shelf, but I guess luck is on my side as there was little to no item in my shelf that time. There was also this time when I was walking in the hallway It felt like my head was heavy as a bowling ball yet as light as a balloon, my head went numb as I felt a warm dark red liquid escape my nose. The teacher saw me and instructed me to go to the clinic, The nurse jumped with shock she gazed at the thermometer making sure that there was no mistake for the readings was as if the thermometer was dipped in boiling hot coffee. My parents then picked me up from school and immediately drove me to the hospital, where I was diagnosed with dengue. I spent a fortnight at the hospital with my phone and an iv drop located on my right hand. When I came back to school everything went smoothly. Without noticing much grade two ended just like that and it was time to take a step into the next chapter of my school life.

Before I started my journey of being a grade three student I remember the time when my mother brought me with her to church and I was mesmerized by the melody I heard, the feeling after hearing each lyric was emotional that it held my attention. I saw the members of the choir singing each line with angelic voices and it further inspired me to attend choir lessons. After being officially a choir member of the PNK, my voice was also recognized resulting in me being assigned as the pitch leader of my group.

When the chapter of my grade three year opened, It started with a warm welcome from our science teacher and adviser, Teacher Marilyn Donato.

During my grade three year I was bullied by one of my classmates but it didn’t affect me much as I was too busy focusing on my academic pursuit. Teacher Marilyn was one of the teachers I couldn’t forget as she thought us how to make fresh homemade Miki noodles from single strands of dough and a simple but sweet recipe for her famous cold mango sago. We also had our science exhibit and we participated in trying out the famous foamy elephant toothpaste experiment. My grade three year ended up better than I expected.

When I entered the chapter of my grade four year I was greeted by the familiar face of my old friends again and it made me happy. I remember when I was one of the chosen students to participate in our declamation for English month, despite having second thoughts I was still the girl who has confidence in herself. That being said I did my best to memorize five stanzas consisting of long-lined sentences, afterwards I got the fruit of my efforts and won a certificate for being the best in declamation presentation.

When I entered the chapter of my grade five year I got excited when I found out that we were participating as girl scouts of the Philippines. I remember the time when we had our investiture, everyone including me was wearing our all green-colored uniform with a pair of black shoes. The feeling of excitement while receiving our scarf and pins is one of the best feelings in the world. This was also the year when I found out that my mother was expecting and that it would be a baby girl. At that moment I felt overwhelmed with a hint of undeniable joy to accompany it, the idea of having e a little sister who can be my lifetime best friend, despite our ten-year age gap brought me a wave of positive emotions

Also during this year, I met my social circle at church during our choir practice, it includes Me, Angel, Kate, Casey, Nadine, Gab, Jayron, and Louise. Until now in the present day, we are still inseparable and we hang out whenever we find a hole in our busy schedule.

When the last chapter of my elementary year started, grade six became an emotional rollercoaster for me. I tried my best to focus on my academic pursuit and gave it my all. I also managed to find my social circle at school, it included Me, Fiona, Shannen, and Charmaine, we used to go door to door from each other’s houses and eat at our favorite hangout place, McDonald's. I honestly enjoyed my grade six year but of course, it won’t be an emotional rollercoaster without a sprinkle of unhappiness, When the day of our graduation came I felt disappointed with myself reason being I only got a general average of 89, which meant I didn’t get into the list of honor students and It felt like I also disappointed my parents as they didn’t get the chance to go up on stage. This served as my motivation to try my best in terms of my academics.

It was time to start the first few pages of my high school life, grade seven.

When my freshman year in high school started, I felt blue when I realized that I had to part ways with my social circle as they transferred to different schools, I stayed in contact with them but nevertheless, the change made me feel like a stranger in our classroom because a few of them managed to keep their circle intact. Despite the change, I met this girl named Chesca and we immediately hit it off and became the best of friends. I developed an interest in arts so I decided to join the art club, I also focused more on my academics. To sum it up freshman year wasn’t the best but I also enjoyed it.

It was also around this year when my mother noticed a few signs that lead her to consider the thought that my sister might have autism, After a week or two my parents decided to schedule an assessment to confirm her guess. My sister was then diagnosed with Speech Delay, she was categorized into the autism spectrum. I watched how my mother reached for the tissue box slowly damping it at her glistening teary eyes and my father comforting her telling her that everything would be alright and that challenges were a part of life. It was also around this moment when I realized that I have to be a better sister and that my perspective would never change, to me she was still just like any other little girl, she wasn’t and will never be different. This was also the time when my sister started attending her speech therapy to further help her communication skills through speaking. Until now she still attends her speech class and we often hear her non-stop cute voice, telling us random stories which made me and my parents genuinely happy that she was now a talkative little girl.

When I entered the chapter of my sophomore year in high school grade eight, I found a new social circle including Me, Cheska, Martina, Isam, Ralph, Harvey, Matthew, and Abe. We became close friends even naming our friend group “dachess squad”. I felt joyful that I found people that I vibe with. During this year I continued to focus on my academics and got decent grades but of course not everything goes accordingly, nearing the end of our school year I found myself yet again as a stranger in my room, the reason being my social circle found new friends and formed a band as well as a dance group for an upcoming event in our school.

This year was also the year I developed an interest in playing volleyball and badminton, I remember the time when the racket hit the shuttlecock too rough it flew pass the roof and landed on a soaking wet floor, resulting me and my other friend to slip trying to obtain the shuttlecock while on the verge of laughing. that was the time I realized that playing sports and trying out new things was worth a try. I also recall the moment when I and a few classmates of mine got chosen to participate as usherettes at PWU Taft for the upcoming graduation of the grade twelve students. We wore our senior scout uniform consisting of a white short sleeve polo blouse with our matching green pencil skirt, and of course the orange scarf and pins, we also wore a pair of two inched heel black shoes which later became a challenge as we were required to stand from the start of the graduation ceremony until the end, also considering the fact that we had to carry the flag. We witnessed the speech of the students which inspired me to do better in terms of my academic pursuit and to further motivate myself to accomplish my goals. I was also one of the members of our school’s dramatics club and I had a memorable year with them, we directed our own play and wrote our own set of lines, This experience helped me to overcome the stage fright I had. To be fair my grade eight year wasn’t at all that bad, It was ok.

Before starting the new chapter of my high school year, grade nine, I decided to transfer to a different school for a change but little did I know it was one of the decisions I would later reconsider.

When grade nine started, It was an eventful yet chaotic year. I went to school feeling enthusiastic, the idea of making new friends and enjoying my high school life added more reason for me to look forward to something new. The first day of school actually went well but I noticed the difference between my new school AMA University, from my old one. When class officially started after all the “get to know” each other phase. I found one of my close friend up to this day, Janna. We immediately hit it off, considering the fact that we both have an interest in reading books and writing our own short stories. But for the rest of my class, was rather chaotic, especially after I became one of the Student Council members despite the fact that I was a new student who barely knew the inner workings of the school. During my time at the Student Council Organization, I met one of my closest friend up to this day, Ate Sabel. She was the president of the student council and she was also the reason why I got close the majority of the grade ten students. I also had a good relationship with the grade eight and seven students which was good, but regarding my classmates I don’t have the best connection with them, It was rather unfitting. It felt like I was a randomly thrown puzzle piece in a box of a complete puzzle picture, an outcast.

They started to treat me like I was unwanted, A lost student in a picture-perfect classroom, the first reason being I got the position of Auditor in SCO despite having little to no knowledge about the school. At first, I felt happy that my fellow schoolmates put their fate on me and for recognizing my abilities but I didn’t expect one of my classmates which I won’t mention the name to feel envy towards me. She was one of the most influential people in our classroom, the reason being she was an old student who made a lot of connections with the majority of the people in my class. She also stated that she hates the following about me, the way I speak conyo, the fact I always stood up for myself during arguments and bully sessions, Also the way I acted like I didn’t care about them, and that their actions of bullying seemed insignificant. To be frank the pages of my grade nine year was painted in black and white, It was the year I wanted to escape the endless void of loneliness. Pretending I was fine despite the ongoing “VIP” treatment they gave me was an undeniable nightmare.

I remember some of the chaotic happenings that had a huge impact that affected me as a person, There was this time when I was just minding my own business scrolling my Instagram feed while enjoying my lunch break when suddenly my “most influential classmate” threw a tantrum reason being, she felt ashamed that she didn’t knew my english vocabulary when we were in the middle of an argument. This resulted in her pulling my hair on a random occasion during a supposed lunch break, And because I was kind enough to return the favor I also pulled her hair and it became a “sabunutan session”. This incident made me realize that I needed to stand up for myself on certain occasions. There was also this incident when It was also my “most influential classmate’s” fault that she messed up the timing of bringing the props on stage during our Buwan ng Wika. Being a denial queen, she made sure that the blame would fall on me which resulted in one of my classmate shouting at me inside the school’s amphitheater. I can still remember the gazes of the parents who were watching the school presentation. At that moment I couldn’t speak and I realized that no one was there to stand up for me. I tried my best to close the cap of my bottled feelings and act as if I didn’t care, after the presentation I immediately went down the building and went to a bench. The soft blow of the wind and the calming noise of the leaves made me feel comfortable enough to pour the feelings I bottled up resulting to me silently crying, alone. After that, I felt the weight on my chest subside. I realized that sometimes letting yourself feel certain emotions instead of keeping them locked can surely be a huge help. There was also this time when one of my classmates told me that “no one would love me and that I won’t find happiness”. I guess some words can easily persuade a person to think that she/he isn’t good enough, in my case that is. Despite the obstacles, I still managed to do great in my academic pursuit, resulting in my name always being on the bulletin board of achievers and honor students. During my free time, I always study and focused on reading books to shift my focus from the loneliness of my surroundings which became a hobby of mine until the present day.

When December came I met Fonzell a guy from the grade eight class that later became my close friend, he then introduced me to Jasper, Ice, and Gian that also became close to me. They became a reason for me to look forward to another school day, because of them I found myself enjoying my grade nine year despite everything that happened. I remember that on Fridays we would get to a near fast-food chain and enjoy an hour filled with the funny random exchange of conversations, we also used to watch an episode or two of the anime fruits basket. But despite having a solid social circle, an unfriendly circumstance happened that made our connections weaken.

During almost the end of my grade nine year, an unknown virus originated from china that later made its way to thousands and millions of people in the Philippines. This resulted ABS-CBN and Umagang kay Ganda to announce a supposed two week class suspension that later became a two year school break. And just like that my grade nine year ended. Though I consider it as the year I wouldn’t want to experience again, I learned a lot from it.

When I entered the chapter of my grade ten year it was rather dull, Though I still managed to keep my social circle at church intact, I slowly lost my close friends from school, the reason being the pandemic was also hard for them to handle that they needed space which caused the strings of our bond to dissipate. I then developed another fear which is getting to attached to a person, I wanted to lock myself up in a little room with no attachments and “influential classmates”. every day it felt like the key to my door was slowly getting further, until it was out of my reach. But despite feeling a wave of negative emotions, I still tried my best to look forward and be a better person, to find the once adventurous little girl who had confidence to the brim, despite feeling the aftermath of being bullied and its effect on me as a person. I focused on my academics and reached one of my goals to be an honor student, which later on served as my motivation to escape the mild depression I was feeling. Around this year I also did my best to move on from the dramatic and chaotic grade nine year, to which I can say I succeeded.

When it was time to start the new chapter of my life in grade eleven, I decided to change school for a fresh start and study at New Era University. I considered the idea that I won’t have too much personal attachment to anyone and that I will only focus on my studies and myself. But little did I know a person would slowly reach for the key and unlock my door. During the start of my grade eleven journey, I was placed at the section 11-HUMSS 4, which consists of ten students at the time, I also met my first friend Myco. After a week or two, it was announced that our section will now officially disband reason being that the number of students wasn’t enough to keep our section alive. New Era gave us the opportunity to choose a section that we would want to join in, I, Myco, and a few others decided to try our luck in 11-HUMSS 3.

At first, just like I planned, I won’t form any kind of personal attachment to others, which of course was a scam. When I had a chance to socialize with some of my classmates, I noticed that they were different from my old classmates back then in grade nine. I made new friends, and I also found my social circle consisting of Me, Merl, Erika, and Zhina. Every so often we have conversations about topics we have the same interest in.

During the entrance of December 2021, an unexpected twist happened that shifted the pages of my story. I and my group members were struggling to finish our radio play reason being the others were not participating much, after a few waves of panic and a supposed heart attack I received a phone call around almost midnight. It was from Kurt Juliane, a classmate of mine. Honestly, at first, I thought that I won’t get along very well with him, but after a few group works with him he turned out to be one of the best leaders and an approachable classmate despite his cold facade.

Juliane offered me to team up with his group reason being, they were also having a tough time, I accepted his offer which turned out to be a choice I wouldn’t regret. When we started working on our group project it was honestly fun despite that it was accompanied by a bit of challenge, when we had our free time I, Juliane, Arwen, and Josh also decided to play truth or dare to serve as an icebreaker. but due to the circumstance of being far from each other and gmeet being our only source of communication, we only did truth or truth.

There was this time when Juliane asked me to do a one-on-one script due to the storyline being too personal, I accepted his offer and this opportunity further strengthen the bond we unknowingly formed. I won’t deny, I found myself looking forward to making more memories with him, I found myself smiling while remembering our light-hearted conversations, especially one of the best memory I made with him, I can still recall my room filled with the sound of giggles and laughter coming from our gmeet meeting because of a video compilation he showed me. I didn’t want to assume nor consider the idea that he also enjoys my company but the way he approached me gave me crumbs for thoughts, but regardless I tried my best to deny it and keep it at the back of my head. that was the moment I realized that he was my safe place, I was comfortable around him and I felt safe from my clouded thoughts.

Around the midnight of December 28 or rather the early morning of December 29. I was shocked when I heard the words I didn’t expect to hear made its way through his lips. At that moment I knew I wanted to accept his confession and tell him that I feel the same way but remembering the barricade I worked hard for the sole purpose of not being too attached made me reconsider my thoughts and the fact that he was leaving for UAE. But despite my clouded thoughts the butterflies and my jumping heart rate managed to overpower it, resulting in me letting myself lose and be honest about the fact that I want to return his feelings.

Ever since that day, Juliane also became part of my motivation to do my best in terms of my academic pursuit. He also influenced me with confidence that I am trying to restore until this day, to me he will always be my safe place and I am genuinely happy with his company. Remember, “Watashi mo itoshite iru yo, Juliane”

Up to this day, I can say that I found happiness in myself, the people around me, and my family. Life has many obstacles in every chapter but that makes us grow and progress as the person we are in the present.

A bright iridescent moon has many sides and stories, until this day I am still a crescent moon, looking forward to the challenges and experiences that would fall under the chapters of my story, that will complete me as a person.

#autobiography #crescent moon

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filterjeons · 4 years

Text

he loves me not | jhs

“did you ever fall in love with me?”

✦ pairing: jung hoseok x reader

✦ summary: he was the man who caught your eye ever since he smacked your face with a soccer ball in elementary. you loved him for over a decade....but you can’t find yourself to confess.

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut, i’ll let you guys find out what the other genre is 😏

✦ word count: 4.9k

✦ warnings: college au, soft dom!hoseok, fingering, oral, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, get ready for an emotional ride <3

He loves me, he loves me not…

Those were the same words that you kept repeating for a few days now, a flower representing if the man you have a crush on likes you back. To any other person, it seems stupid that a flower will judge your love life but you heartily disagree. Flowers and love have always been associated with one another and from a viewpoint, it makes sense on why picking petals off of flowers can determine your fate with the person you love.

Jung Hoseok. You two knew each other but at the same time you didn’t. The first time you two caught each other’s eyes was during elementary school. He was one of the popular kids: with his cheery smile, bubbly personality, and warm aura, nearly everyone became friends with him. You, on the other hand, were more of a wallflower. You only had a few close friends and you spent your time reading books instead of playing games. Some people call you boring but who cares about them.

During recess in 1st grade, you decided to read in the middle of the field. It seemed ideal, the grass was green and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue. There wasn’t even a cloud in sight. All of a sudden, a soccer ball came speeding towards you and hit you straight-up in the head. You couldn’t remember what happened but when you opened your eyes, you saw a worried Hoseok hovering face-to-face on top of you in the nurse’s room.

“Y/N-ah! You’re okay! I’m so so sorry that I hurt you! I should’ve known you were there.”

“It’s okay. Uh, my head kind of hurts…”

“I’ll go get some ice for you!” When he passed the “ice bag” (which was basically a frozen paper towel), you felt a peculiar feeling. You didn’t know why but there were sparks when you grabbed the ice bag from him. What was it? Eventually, he had to leave for his classroom but when you were free to leave the nurse’s room, he offered to walk you to class. By then, you figured out what that feeling was. And it became a 12-year crush on the boy who hit you with a soccer ball.

Like some coincidence, both of you attended the same college together. You didn’t expect to see anyone from your school during your freshman orientation but when you saw the familiar sunshine smile, a wave of relief and fear washed over you.

Hoseok being the extrovert that he is made friends with nearly the whole campus, is in a sorority, and hosts the biggest parties the university has ever seen. You continued to be the loner that you were but luckily you found a close friend in Nayeon.

As you and Nayeon were strolling across campus, you saw Hoseok and his girlfriend talking and chattering with Starbucks in their hands. You felt a pit of jealousy in your stomach, internally yelling at yourself for not having the guts to tell him how you truly feel.

However, you expected him to go out with someone. He can’t stay single forever just for you because he barely knows you and your feelings. If he did, then you would move to another state out of embarrassment.

“Y/N, stop looking otherwise he’s going to think that you’re creepy!” Nayeon giggled, pushing you away from the couple. “Why won’t you ever talk to him?” “I can’t. We didn’t really interact during high school.” “Look, college is about starting a new life. Come on, you’re 18 now! You’re an adult! Don’t let your fears get in the way of having fun!” “Besides, they’re dating!”

“So? You can be friends with him!”

“Not now, I have class. I’ll see you around!” You made way inside the building and into your sociology class, the professor setting up his computer for a lecture. You didn’t know a lot of people here and the person who sat next to you dropped out.

All of a sudden, a guy with rainbow-styled clothes and a vibrant aura entered, giving a high-five to the professor and waving to your classmates. Your eyes widened, the man who has been invading your thoughts is actually in the same class with you.

Hoseok scanned the room for a place to sit, his face brightening when he saw an empty seat next to you. Your heart started to race, he’s actually going to sit next to you! “Oh, Y/N! I didn’t know you were in this class! I just got moved here and I’m so glad I found someone I know!”

“Yeah, uh, hi. I thought you were gonna sit with someone else.”

“Nah, actually I wanted to talk to you ever since orientation but I never saw you around. However, I saw you walking by and staring at me and Julia.” Oh, that’s his girlfriend’s name. Interesting.

“Heh...no..you didn’t see anything!” “You’re cute. I hope we have more classes together!” After everyone has settled in their seats, the professor started going on about the lesson but you couldn’t care less about what he had to say. The way Hoseok was so invested in the powerpoint but occasionally stopped to play games was more intriguing than whatever was going on. No, he must think you’re crazy. You snapped out of it and attempted to focus on the screen.

“From this week’s lesson, I am going to assign you all a project. Your will be grouped by pairs and they will be determined by the place you’re sitting in right now.” You internally counted down the pair of seats from the row you’re in and sure enough, you’re paired with Hoseok. He smiled at you, holding your hands excitedly. You obviously reciprocate the feeling but your head didn’t let you show it.

“Yay! We’re going to be doing our project together! This is going to be so fun!” You smiled and nodded, trying to come up with things to say but your mind was blank.

“W-wait, would your girlfriend be okay?” Wow Y/N, that’s the first thing that you say? Way to get your man.

“No, I think she’ll be chill. Besides, you’re like one of my childhood friends so it’s cool.” At least you’re a friend in his eyes.

The session ended 15 minutes later and you couldn’t wait to get out. As you quickly stuffed your books and laptop in your bag, Hoseok tossed a little airplane at your head.

“That’s my number if you want to talk about the project and...other stuff. If you’re free tomorrow, do you wanna get started? There’s a party I want to go to at the end of the week and I want to get this out of the way.” “Uh, sure. I’ll text you later,” you said shyly, zipping your bag up and exiting the room. You felt your body sweat and your heart pound rapidly. Your brain still can’t wrap around the fact that Hoseok sits next to you and you will be working on a project together.

“Hey, what’s up? You look like you just got out of a haunted house,” Nayeon said as you approached the familiar bench where the two of you always sat.

“Hoseok just transferred to my class, he sits next to me, and we’re doing a project together!” “Ooh, go get your man!”

“No no, this is bad! I always act so weird around him! Plus he wants us to work on it tomorrow! What should I do?” “First, relax. Take a deep breath,” Nayeon instructed, placing her hands on your shoulders as you slowed down your breathing. “Next, don’t worry about a thing. Try to push aside your feelings for him and talk to him as you would with another person.” “Only he’s my crush for about 12 years!”

“So? I know it must be awkward due to your feelings for him but if you act awkward, then you wouldn’t be close to him. And you want that, do you?” “Yeah…” “You got this, don’t worry!” Nayeon’s words gave you some hope and encouragement, which made you feel better. She was right, you can’t keep acting this way for long. Even though he was dating someone else, at least you’ll have him close as a friend, right?

You never told anybody this but you secretly kept a daisy and you picked off the petals every day. It was down to four petals and you decided to take two off.

He loves me, he loves me not.

However you didn’t want it to end with a negative note so you picked one last petal off.

He loves me.

The next day came and you were sitting at a local cafe, waiting for Hoseok to arrive. Since you arrived a few minutes early, you had enough time to go over what you want to say and if you look good enough.

Surprisingly, he came on time and even gave you a mini hug. You watched as he placed his bags on the ground and pulled out his laptop.

“Hi Y/N! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” “N-no, not at all! You came on time actually!” “Good, well do you want to order anything at first?” “Sure, I really want coffee right now!” As you two waited in line, you shyly gazed over at Hoseok who shined brighter than any sun in the world. You accidentally brushed his hand with yours, causing him to laugh.

“How come we didn’t talk much throughout high school? I can’t remember the last time I really talked to you except yesterday.” Hoseok asked, scanning the menu for a drink he’d like. “I don’t know, I guess we had different classes and you were more popular than me…” “But I would’ve been friends with you no matter what.”

“Would you? I’m not exactly the most popular girl in school.” “Yeah. You seem chill and it’s nice having a reserved friend against all my loud and hyper ones. I hope you take it as a compliment.” “Uh, I do. What are you gonna get?” “I’ll have a vanilla latte. It’s a classic but it’s iconic at the same time.” “I’ll get what you’re getting.” You watched him order and talk casually to the cashier, a common thing you’re scared of doing. It must be nice dating him, he sounds like the guy who can be the life of the party but still has an eye for you.

“Do you want me to pay for my-” “No, I shouldn’t have to make you pay. I mean they say the gentleman pays for the first study date,” he replied, swiping his credit card. Oh my god did he just say-

A few minutes later, the cashier gives you your drinks with your name scrabbled on the cupsleeve. You and Hoseok grabbed them at the same time, accidentally bumping together. You blushed at the proximity, jumping back with fear. Geez, why are you acting like this? You really are a fool.

An hour later and both of you made decent progress on your projects. Hoseok decided to take a break and scroll through his Instagram while you worked on some slides.

“Hey, Y/N, do I follow you on Insta?” “Uh, I’m not sure. I think so?” He checked his phone again, a frown on his normally joyful face. “No I don't. What’s your username?” “I’ll type it in for you.”

He nodded and passed you his phone. You quickly typed your user, hit the follow button, and went back to his profile. He had a lot of followers due to his popularity and personality, which shocks you considering that you’ve never met someone with over 5,000 followers.

“Y/N, ever since I saw you yesterday I wanted to get to know you. I feel bad that we barely interacted throughout high school and I want to make up for that. So just hit me with what you got.” He leaned forward, interested in hearing what you have to say.

Your mind immediately stopped working as you quickly tried to come up with an interesting conversation. And the only event you could think of was the time where he hit you with a soccer ball in elementary school.

“Actually Hoseok, we have known each other since we were 1st graders.”

“Really? Were you in my class back then? God, I can’t even remember what I had for lunch yesterday but you manage to remember that.” “Yeah, there was a time when I was reading out in the middle of the soccer field. I was the perfect target to be hit which is what you did. I don’t remember what happened after the ball smacked me in the face but when I woke up, I saw you waiting for me. You offered to give me ice and walk me back to class when my headache stopped. We barely saw each other after that but that was still one of the most significant moments in my life.” “Oh yeah, I still feel bad that I did that-” You took a deep breath, trying to work up the nerve to say what you’ve always wanted to say to him. It’s now or never, just do it!

“Hoseok, ever since that day, I’ve loved you since.” Your words shocked him, his mouth dropping open and his eyes the size of saucers. He tried to comprehend what you said when all of a sudden, you burst into tears.

You shouldn’t have said it, it was too soon. Your vision blurry of tears, you stuffed all your stuff in your bag and ran out of the cafe.

“Wait, Y/N! Wait! Hold on, we need to talk about this!” “I’m sorry Hoseok, I shouldn’t have-” “No, this is important! Y/N, look at me!” He spun you around and forced you to look at his face. You tried to blink away your tears and he quickly flicked them away.

“Y/N, are your feelings true? Did you love me for that long?”

You nodded slowly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again. It was so scary waiting for him to either reciprocate those feelings or walk away.

All of a sudden, he gave you a kiss. And it wasn’t like any other peck, it was one full of want and passion. He quickly pulled away and gave you a tight hug.

“Thank you for telling me how you feel. And I like you back.”

He broke the hug and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two walked towards campus. You felt your heart slowly relax, he likes you as well! Maybe all that pining and worry was for nothing! “Y/N, it’s getting dark so do you want to stay at my dorm? I don’t have a roommate so it’s okay,” he said, heading the opposite direction from the path that leads to your dorms.

“Sure thing. It’s okay as well.” You were totally freaking out inside, you’re going INSIDE his dorm. After a few minutes, he opened the door and you carefully walked in, your nose wrinkling a bit. Iwas messy due to the overflowing trash bags full of takeout and beer bottles but overall it wasn’t too bad. You hung your bag on a random coat stand full of jackets and baseball caps. There was a blanket and a pillow on his couch where you could possibly stay.

“Sorry if it doesn’t look too appealing, I’m kind of lazy to clean my room,” he sighed, stuffing the full bags in a random corner. You shook your head, carefully sitting down on his couch. Hoseok sat down next to you, loosely laying his hand around your shoulders.

“So, what do you want to do Y/N?” “I’m not sure. Is it bad that I want to stay like this?” “No, I do too.” He moved closer to you, your bodies touching and you felt heat rise up to your cheeks. You lied down on your back and you felt his presence above you as he slowly leaned closer to you. “Do you want to do this?” You couldn’t think of the right words to say, were you really about to do it with your crush? It’s now or never, Y/N. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“It’s okay, I want to do it. But I’m not experienced in this type of stuff,” you confessed.

“Then I’ll teach you. I’ll go slow with you, I promise.” He kissed you again, the same feeling like the one outside. It was slow and romantic, just the way you imagined. He probed his tongue in front of your mouth, asking for entrance to which you let him in. Hoseok started to remove your T-shirt but stopped immediately to ask for your permission.

“Are you sure this is okay with you?” “Yes, I promise. I’ve always wanted this to be with you.” “Good. I’ll make you feel so good.” He pulled off the shirt and carefully took off your white bra, a mundane action that made you feel butterflies. After everything was taken off, you immediately covered your chest. You weren’t used to being exposed to someone like this, much less the guy you love.

“Don’t worry baby, you look beautiful. I promise,” Hoseok assured, gently removing your arms. He latched his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking on them feverishly. You let out a loud moan before biting your lip to stifle them. What if someone was there? “Don’t hide those moans for me, baby girl. I want to hear them,” he murmured, his mouth still on your breast. After hearing his words, you started to let out a series of moans and whimpers. While his mouth was on one, he was using his fingers to play with your nipple and tug on it a bit, a loud whine escaping your mouth.

“Please…” “Aww, does it hurt, little girl?” You shook your head as he slowly made his way over to your jeans, cupping your covered heat. You could feel yourself become more wet since no one has ever been near that area before and you wanted him to touch you more. Hoseok hastily pulled off your jeans and underwear, throwing them off to the side.

You felt embarrassed that you were completely bare in front of your crush and you wondered if it was too soon to back out of this. But what’s done is done and you’ve wanted him to see you like this for a long time so you decided to have some confidence. That’s what Nayeon told you, right?

“Did you ever have something in you?”

“No, this is my first time ever doing this. I’m kind of worried.” “It’s okay, I’ll help you. Now, I’m going to do a bit of foreplay to get you ready for my dick. It’s basically like warm-ups before the actual thing. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.” You felt his fingers linger near your entrance and you nodded at him to enter. He suddenly purged a slender finger inside you as you let out a moan, him slowly thrusting to make you comfortable.

“You look so cute, taking my finger like it’s my cock. I don’t even know if you’re ready to even take it.” “I am! I’m ready! Please, keep moving!” You felt a wave of confidence overcome you, surprising yourself and Hoseok. He turned his shocked expression into a smirk, curling his finger and adding another one inside you.

He was stretching your walls out well to later accommodate his dick, making scissoring motions inside and finding your g-spot. All of this pleasure was too much for you as you held onto Hoseok’s arms and fed his ego with mewls and whines. You couldn’t form a single word due to the pleasure he was giving you, even though it was only two fingers.

“Ah, ah, Hoseok, I-” He suddenly adds a third finger and keeps thrusting quickly, his palm rubbing your clit. His palm was quickly replaced by his mouth as he sucked on it harshly.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for the first time? Are you close?” he teases.

“Oh my god, oh, Hoseok…” You felt tiny beads of sweat drip down your forehead from the heat and pressure, your walls tightening around his long fingers.

You felt a knot in your stomach which you assumed that your orgasm was coming soon. Hoseok could also tell and kept going faster, making fast come-here motions and playing around with your clit.

“You’re close now, are you? Such a good girl as I stretch your tiny pussy out for my big dick. That’s right baby girl, cum for me now. Cum all over my fingers and face.” His words were your breaking point as you felt that knot snap, your orgasm arriving. You moan out Hoseok’s name as he stares at your cum flow out of your system. He sucked on his fingers before taking some of your juices and bringing it to your mouth. You suck on them wantonly, causing Hoseok’s dick to twitch. Maybe someday you can suck him off with your cute mouth.

“Good girl, you did so well baby,” he praises, making your stomach have butterflies from his words. You watch as he strips himself to his boxers, your eyes widening on what could be under them. He palms his cock for a bit, staring into your eyes seductively.

“Are you ready for this?” You nodded rapidly, wanting to have his dick inside you. He slowly pulled down his boxers and his cock immediately sprang up, looking erect and large. You gulped at what’s going to enter you, Hoseok smirking at your reaction.

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay. I’ll go slow at first, I promise,” he assured, the tip of his cock slightly brushing against your pussy.

You braced yourself for him to enter you, whining as you clenched around his length.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re so tight. You’re doing well baby,” he groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing in. You found yourself at a nice pace but after a while, you signalled him to go faster. This is really it, you’re going to be losing your virginity to him! He started to ram into you quickly, his dick filling you up and hitting many different nerves inside. You clawed on his back, trying to keep yourself steady from the insane pace he was going at.

“Look at you trying to take my cock, such a cutie,” he coos, toying around with your breasts again. You let out a mewl at his words, lewd sounds filling the room. Your walls started to clench around him tightly causing Hoseok to let out low grunts and moans.

The now familiar feeling of your orgasm started to make its way again, the knot returning as you approach it for the second time. Hoseok could tell that you were close as well with the way your cunt was tightening around his dick.

“You going to cum again, baby? That’s right, make a mess on my big dick,” he grunts, slowly reaching his own high as well.

You let out a moan as your juices came pouring down again, your whole body shaking and your cunt sensitive from cumming twice. Little white stars started to appear in your vision from how much pleasure you had. Hoseok started to thrust faster and suddenly pulled out, stroking his length to release all of his seed onto your stomach. After it stopped spurting out, he took a minute to catch his breath and leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

“How was it, sweetie? Was it okay?” he asked, caressing your cheek.

“I-it was great. Thank you so much, I didn’t expect it to be like this.” “I’m going to get a towel to clean you up and some clothes. I’ll be right back,” he smiled, leaving the living room for a bit.

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about what you’ve done with him. Even though many people your age think of sex as just a way to get pleasure, it meant a lot to you because you were giving your body and trust to a person. Obviously, Hoseok was very special to you and you were grateful that it was him who took away your virginity. You loved him enough to let yourself be exposed to you and you knew that he must’ve had sex with other girls but did he feel something special with you? Was it only you who were feeling this way.

Hoseok came back dressed in a T-shirt and shorts and in his hand was another T-shirt and a towel. He carefully wiped off the cum that landed onto your stomach and thighs, making you get goosebumps from the touch. You put on the T-shirt he gave you, the bottom of it reaching your thighs.

“So am I going to stay here for the night?” “Of course! Why would I let you go back home at this hour?” “Uh, am I going to sleep on the couch?” “Hell no, it’s too stained for you to sleep there. You can sleep in my bedroom with me.”

You felt your heart beat faster from the thought of sleeping next to him. He picked you up bridal style since you were too sore to walk and laid you down on his bed. Since it was late and there wasn’t anything you needed to do, you decided to get ready to go to bed.

Hoseok watches you go to sleep and decides to join you. He stares at the ceiling, thinking about what he did with you. It was nice seeing his childhood friend again and he definitely enjoyed having sex with you but he felt different after. When you confessed your feelings for him at the cafe, his heart felt relieved for some reason. It was different than when his exes and current girlfriend confessed.

Do I love Y/N?

He leans over to you and lightly strokes your hair, finding you adorable. He wishes he found you sooner since that day in elementary school, he wishes he asked you out earlier. Maybe tomorrow he could ask you to be his girlfriend. But that would mean he’s cheating and he was never a big fan of breaking someone’s heart just to be with another person. It made him less of a person and all of a sudden, he felt guilty about what he did today.

You were such a sweet person and he didn’t want to harm you by rejecting your feelings...but he doesn’t want to break the trust of a person just because you were a childhood friend.

Hoseok’s heart ached as he decided to let you go due to the guilt of cheating on his girlfriend, even though he would much rather have you here beside him.

The next morning, you found yourself awake with Hoseok sitting next to you. You smiled as you remembered what happened yesterday, feeling better than ever.

“Good morning, Hoseok!”

“Ah, good morning, Y/N!” “Do you want anything for breakfast?” “Listen Y/N, I need to talk to you about something. It’s important so please listen. Uh, yesterday shouldn’t have happened and I feel like you shouldn’t have slept with me.”

“Wait, why?” “Do you remember that I have a girlfriend?” “Did you break up with her?” “No...so that means I cheated on her.”

You felt your heart break as Hoseok avoided eye contact with you. Your first time was with someone who had a girlfriend and he cheated on her with you.

“You’re right. This shouldn’t have happened. Why was I stupid enough to let you take my virginity?” “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t think we can see each other anymore.” You felt hot tears drip down your cheeks, feeling embarrassed and foolish. The man you loved took your virginity but it meant nothing. It was just a one-night stand.

“I’m going to go now, I don’t feel comfortable here. But I have a question, you know how much I loved you for over a decade. How much that night meant to me and how much you mean to me. Did you ever feel the same way? Did you ever feel something between us during that time?”

You looked at Hoseok’s face, scanning to see if there’s any emotion. He looked into your eyes but he shook his head. Hoseok desperately wanted to say yes but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt someone else for you.

“N-no, it meant nothing to me. I guess it was just a one-time thing. This shouldn’t have happened, I’m sorry that I never told you before.”

You let out a sob as you made your way out of his bedroom, grabbing your bag and putting on your shoes so you can leave. You looked back to see if Hoseok followed you but he still remained in his room. With your heart torn into pieces, you trudged out of his dorm without a final goodbye from him.

It’s been a few hours since you and Hoseok saw each other. Luckily, you didn’t have class together but you stared at him talking with his girlfriend like nothing never happened. He locked eyes with you and there was an intense connection for a moment but you broke it since that’ll never happen again.

You pulled out the flower which only had a petal remaining. Even though flowers don’t accurately predict your love life, this one knows what will happen between you and Hoseok. You thought he loved you back but it turned out to be nothing. A tear fell out of your eye as you pulled out the last petal, the answer evident from the now-lifeless stem.

He loves me not.

a/n: hope you guys don’t hate me too much over the ending! love y’all <3

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iknowevilspectres · 2 years

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Who Am I?

It’s a question we’ve all asked ourselves at least once. If you say you haven’t, you’re a liar. Unless you knew from the beginning what kind of person you wanted to be, the job you wanted to have, and the life you wanted to live, you’ve asked yourself who you are, or who you were going to be. Maybe it wasn’t the exact word, maybe it wasn’t even a question, but you’ve at least thought about the answer. We don’t go about our lives automatically knowing what we’re going to do, how we’re going to act, or how we’re going to feel. All of those are questions we must discover the answers to.

When I was a kid, I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian. I believed so whole-heartedly that taking care of sick and injured pets was what I wanted to do with my life, but now? Now, there’s no way I could ever be a vet. Yes, I love animals and I’m very good with them, but I don’t love school. I’ve always had a difficult time when it comes to academics that didn’t include art or music. That probably had more to do with my undiagnosed ADHD and strict mother that didn’t bother to even try and understand my mental health than school itself, but the result is the same: I despise school.

That’s a lie.

I never thought my feelings towards education would change but school can be quite enjoyable when I’m learning something that interests me. This realization hit me within the first week of attending art school; most of my classes are all about a topic I enjoy or am at least intrigued by. There is one certain class that seems a bit pointless to me but, for the most part, I look forward to attending my classes. I even get excited about Drawing I, the class I struggle with the most because I’m a photography major and can barely draw a stick figure! The truth of the matter is, I never hated school. I simply loathed the circumstances in which I had to attend.

As I stated before, I had undiagnosed ADHD until about a year ago. I could never pay attention during class and failed to complete homework assignments. English was one of the worst classes in terms of my attention span. As soon as I was able to read, I became obsessed with books and writing. I started creating stories when I was still in elementary school and by the time, I was a middle schooler, I already knew everything they were trying to teach me. This led to a lot of conflict between me and my teachers as I would write or read rather than pay attention to their lecture, which was ironic considering the focus of the class. My teachers still liked me after the fact, too, because I always had some of the best work (when I decided to turn it in).

My mother never understood my ADHD, or any other of my disorders. From early on in my childhood to high school, doctors and counselors alike wanted me to get tested for it, but my mother refused to believe such a thing even exists. She claimed it was an “excuse” for me to not do my work and that I was just like every other kid my age. Funnily enough, she said the same thing regarding my anxiety and depression. I remember thinking, at the time, does every kid really feel this way? And if so, what kind of world do we live in if that’s considered “normal?” I figured from the start that what she said was bullshit, but I couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion that part of it could be true.

I spent a lot of time wondering if I was normal or if something was indeed wrong with me. I had a therapist that I could talk to about this, but they always wanted to speak to my mom as well so relying on them was pointless to me. She always told them I “made up my problems” during the car ride on the way there. I didn’t make them up, I just couldn’t talk about them. Aside from my mother, there wasn’t anybody willing to listen to me. Anytime I tried to reach out for someone to help, my pleas fell on deaf ears. It was like this since I was kid and I told myself I didn’t mind the lack of attention, but I couldn’t fight away the loneliness.

Up until my eighteenth birthday, I was practically clueless as to what I wanted to do with my life. I never put much thought into it, always thinking I’d die before anything good ever happened. But once I became an adult and graduated high school—which I barely did—I realized that life is what I want, not what others expect it to be. My mom wasn’t in control of me anymore. I was able to seek help for the issues that have been plaguing me throughout most of my life without her involvement. I got tested and diagnosed with ADHD and I’m now on medication for it. I also decided to pursue my dream career and go to school for photography. Sure, it took a couple years for me to decide that it’s what I really want to do, but it was a choice worth thinking over and I don’t regret a second of it.

I understand that life is ever-changing and that there will be ups and downs, that I will not always be happy with what I’m doing. Even so, where I am now—surrounded by friends and fulfilling my aspirations as a creator—is where I belong.

This is who I am, and I can’t wait to see who I will become.

#biography #my writing #about me #adhd #living with adhd #undiagnosed adhd #mental disorder #mental disability #self discovery #adhdlife #attention deficit hyperactivity disorder #writers on tumblr #writer #writing about life #myself #true story #mental health #this is who i am

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twiistedgalaxies · 3 years

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Genesis: Chapter 1: Schoolyard Days

Summary: How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves. Or, alternatively: The origins of All for One and One for All.

A/N: All for One is Midoriya Hisashi, but this isn't super relevant since this fic takes place a couple hundred years before canon. This fic is heavily inspired by a lot of other fanfictions that I've read, including the amazing story "Family Secrets" by WinteryFall, which I highly recommend. That fic in particular is why I headcanon that the original holder of OFA was named Tomura, and that Tenko was named after him to satisfy AFO's overinflated ego. In this chapter Hisashi is fifteen and Tomura is eleven.

Sunlight streamed into the room from the crack between the large, thick curtains, causing motes of dust in the air to glow softly before they reached the plush carpet. The room was small, cramped. The walls were plastered in movie posters and dirty laundry formed piles on the floor. Every flat surface had knick-knacks and toys strewn upon it, tossed hastily aside in favor of something else. There was a bunk bed wedged into the corner, blankets and sheets just as messy as the rest of their surroundings. Upon it slumbered two boys. On the bottom bunk lay Tomura Shigaraki, his long white hair splayed out on a stained pillow, framing his cherubic face like a halo. His face was peaceful, relaxed. A thin line of drool was stuck to his chin, and with it, a few strands of hair. His palms faced the sky, arms outstretched and torso covered by a thin cotton blanket, the rest discarded at his feet to stave off the summer heat. On the top bunk was his brother, older by a few years, Hisashi Shigaraki, he was curled up into a tight ball, tense, with blankets nestled at his back. His hair was shorter than his brother’s and stuck up at odd angles as the result of a restless night.

The wooden door opened with a soft creak, as their mother, Hana, poked her head into the room, a fond smile on her face as she prepared to wake them. The sweet smell of pancakes filled the air, and she could hear the faint whistle of the kettle in her kitchen. She cleared her throat, causing Hisashi to stir, “Boys,” she began, “It’s time to get up.”

Hisashi groaned, grabbing his pillow to cover his head and ears. Tomura mumbled something incoherent, and shifted slightly. Both clearly were unwilling to get out of bed and face the torment that was the first day of school.

“I made pancakes,” She said, voice light and teasing as the boys woke with a start, practically tripping over each other in their efforts to get to the kitchen. Hana had to press her back against the wall to allow them to storm through the narrow hallway of their apartment.

“Hisashi!” She heard Tomura shriek as they entered the kitchen. The offending teen’s hand was wet and poised to flick more water at his little brother’s face. He wore a shit eating grin at Tomura’s expense.

“Hisashi, stop tormenting your brother,” Hana said, making her way into the room.

“But mom,” he began to protest, only to be cut off.

“Besides, I can’t give you two pancakes if you’re standing in the kitchen, now can I?” She continued with a wry grin. Hisashi let out a huff of defeat and made his way to the kitchen table, Tomura in tow. Hana carefully deposited the pancakes onto three plates, slathering them with butter. The pancakes were a newer tradition in the Shigaraki household. Several years ago, when Hisashi was just five and Tomura a toddler, they had emigrated to the United States from Japan after many long years of waiting for citizenship. The flight to the large country was a long one, and the first meal they ate in this foreign land was in a Denny’s at some unseemly hour. They had pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns. Hana spent her time trying to understand just how Americans can have such ridiculous portions, whilst her husband and son dug into a stack of sickeningly sweet pancakes.

The two siblings continued to hassle each other at the kitchen table, resulting in peals of laughter and the occasional shout of offense. As wonderful as it was to see them in such high spirits, Hana couldn’t help but wince, pitying their neighbors who were trying to get some sleep. She drowned one of the pancakes in syrup, Tomura’s, while leaving the others untouched. Hisashi had grown to inherit her disdain for things overly sugary, especially after the stomachache he had from the Denny’s fiasco. Hana set the plates on the table in front of her sons, “Now, what did I tell you about going to school again?”

“Make sure I take my medicine and visit the nurse’s office,” Tomura chirped. She nodded and ruffled his hair fondly, “And remember to give her your doctor’s note, it’s in your binder in your backpack.”

“Don’t pick fights with the other kids,” Hisashi said, not seeming happy about his parents’ command, “though the brats deserve it.” Hana leveled him with a stern glare, but didn’t say anything. Her eldest knew damn well the consequences of brawling with his peers. Last year, he had gotten into a particularly legendary scuffle that put two kids into the hospital and nearly got him expelled. It was only his high grades, the top in his class, that spared him from that fate. Instead he had a month of suspension and several more of being grounded. He was on thin ice, and Hana really didn’t feel like having to transfer him to another school in the middle of his high school career, especially since the school in question was so close and integrated with Tomura’s middle school to save space.

“Also try to avoid taking the main roads,” Hana said, sitting down to eat, “I heard there’s going to be another protest today, and I don’t want you both caught up in that mess.”

“Yes mom,” the two chorused, though their words were muffled by the pancakes in their mouths.

Breakfast continued without event, they talked about their hopes for the new school year, and soon the boys were off. Hana hugged each of them close before they departed, and if they noticed her embrace went on for longer than usual, neither chose to comment on it.

-@~*^*~@-

Tomura clutched the strap of his backpack, nervously stroking his fingers on the scratchy fabric. The doors of his middle school seemed large and intimidating. A steady stream of students poured into the hallways, parting around him in careful avoidance as he stood on the concrete steps. “It’s just middle school,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on his cane, “Not that much different from elementary school, just a bigger place, with scary teachers and much scarier students and-” He cut himself off, swallowing nervously. It would be fine, probably. He entered the school and made his way to the nurse’s office. The chatter of students and the squeaking of shoes on linoleum floors was deafening. His heart rate picked up, and he felt the familiar weight of anxiety in his chest as he pressed himself to the locker lined wall in an effort to avoid being trampled.

The nurse’s office was sterile, white, and smelled like expired antiseptic. The school nurse was an older woman, her face marred with wrinkles and her gray hair thin and straw-like. She was slightly overweight, and wore a colorful, floral print blouse. When Tomura entered the room, she was looking at something on her computer, chewing on the eraser end of her pencil. “Hello?” Tomura said after a long while of awkward silence, he stepped towards her cautiously, like one would a wild animal. This woman would be responsible for his frail health in the next few years, and would hopefully be less short-tempered than the last nurse he had the misfortune of dealing with.

She looked up, surprised, and peered at him over her half-moon glasses, “Yes dearie?”

“I- My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I have some medicine I have to take every afternoon and I uh,” he pulled his backpack off his back and set it on his floor, digging around inside it, “I have a doctor’s note and everything.” He pulled out the slip of white paper, upon it was a school issued forum with a lot of technical medical stuff. He’d be excused from PE, among a whole host of other accommodations.

The school nurse looked it over, a thoughtful expression on her face, “EDS?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, nodding hurriedly, wincing at the crick in his neck that it caused.

“What’s that?” She asked, looking through her desk drawer, likely a filing cabinet of some kind.

Tomura felt his eye twitch with mild annoyance, but he quashed it down, “Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome,” he paused, searching her face for a reaction, “It’s a connective tissue disorder.”

The nurse gave him a blank look, clearly not understanding, “I see, well Tomura, my name is Ms. Bell. It says here that you need to take anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxers each morning.”

He nodded, “Yeah, EDS makes me hypermobile which causes the muscles around my joints to freak out and makes my tendons inflamed.”

She nodded and wrote something down on a separate piece of paper, using the pencil she had been mercilessly chewing on earlier.

“Uh, my joints also tend to dislocate a lot, it’s why I’m wearing this leg brace. I might have to come in because of that too.”

Ms. Bell raised an eyebrow, her expression doubtful, “It can’t possibly be that bad.”

Tomura chuckled mirthlessly, “I wish.”

“Well,” Ms. Bell began, waving her hands towards the door dismissively, “You should probably get your schedule before the bell rings, I’ll see you before lunch.”

He nodded hurriedly and scooped up his bag, careful to keep his joints from sliding out of place.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly, he had an extra elective to make up for the lost PE credit, and had it right before lunch. It was an art class, the one he was most excited for other than math, and he had to leave five minutes early to begin his long trek across the school to the nurse’s office to take his medications. Throughout the day, kids gave him a wide berth, clearly trying to size him up. Sadly, this meant he ate alone at a small table, directly in the searing sunlight. Whispers followed him in the halls as students gossiped about the new cripple. Tomura hated it, but was relieved that whispers were all there were. For now.

His math class was at the end of the day, and he made sure to show up a little bit early, before passing period, to give his teacher the same speech he had to give all the others earlier that day.

“Hi,” he began.

His math teacher, a young man in his mid-thirties, looked up from his lesson plan, “Hello.”

There was an awkward silence. This conversation was off to a great start. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m disabled and will be absent pretty often.”

The teacher blinked, “I can see that.”

“Er, on my 504 it says I can ask for deadline extensions and the ability to make up work,” Tomura wrung his hands together nervously, “My mom told me to give all my teachers a heads up about it so uh, here it is.”

The man hummed, “I’ll keep that in mind. Your seat is at the table in the back corner, there should be a slip of paper with your name on it.”

“Thank you,” he replied, face flush red with embarrassment. He made his way to his seat and rummaged through his backpack, pulling out the materials listed on the white board as the bell rang and students filed into the room. The teacher introduced himself and went over the syllabus. Everyone tuned him out and the classroom was filled with hushed chatter as students got to know each other. Tomura found himself sitting on the sidelines, observing rather than participating in conversation. Socializing was never his strong suit, he’d always left that to his older brother.

Soon the math teacher, Mr. Burns, had the class do an ice breaker, something that Tomura had never really cared for, even when he was younger. He had much preferred the online learning that the pandemic a few years ago brought, at least he wouldn’t have to play 20 questions with a bunch of people who probably didn’t like him at best and despised the exercise even more than he did. The students had to go around the room and ask each other questions to fill out a bingo card. He hovered awkwardly at his desk, frozen with anxiety. A warm hand on Tomura’s shoulder made him jump, he whirled around to see a young boy his age. He had ginger hair and his face was covered in a smattering of freckles. “Heya,” the boy said, holding out his hand in greeting, “My name’s Zach, what’s your name? Why’s your hair white? What’s that weird thing on your leg? Why do you have a cane? Oooh are you secretly an old dude? I like your Captain America shirt, do you like superheroes? Marvel or DC?”

Tomura just stared in shock as Zach barraged him with questions, some intrusive and some friendly. He held out his hands in a placating gesture, “Hold- Hold on a second, okay? I can’t answer that many questions at once!”

“Sorry, sorry, You just seem really interesting!”

“It’s fine,” Tomura ran his hands through his hair nervously, not used to the sudden attention, “Let’s just start with the questions on the bingo sheet.”

Zach’s face lit up, and the two talked for the entire time allowed for the ice breaker. They both really loved comic books, and while many of Zach’s questions were intrusive, Tomura could tell that unlike most of their peers, there was no malice behind it. Once the icebreaker ended the class watched a short film about math with a bunch of classic Disney characters. The two boys sat next to each other through the whole thing, making eachother crack up as they quietly made fun of the cheesy movie, much to Mr. Burns’s dismay. Their conversation continued until after school, arguing about comic book franchises all the way to the school’s front gate.

“Do you want to walk home together? I live pretty far away but maybe we can talk some more!” Zach suggested.

“Where do you live?” Tomura asked.

“Oh, I live about half an hour’s walk that way,” Zach gestured to the opposite direction of where Tomura’s house was.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Tomura replied, shaking his head regretfully, “My apartment is on the other side of town, besides, my brother and I usually walk home together.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, he’s in the high school next door.”

“Cool!”

“Well, I had fun meeting you Zach, do you want to eat lunch together tomorrow?” Tomura asked, shuffling his feet nervously.

“Sure! I should probably get going before my dad gets upset,” Zach’s expression grew a little grim at the last part, but Tomura shrugged it off.

“Bye!” Tomura said, as Zach headed off.

“See ya!”

The loneliness that followed his new friend’s absence was much more crushing and all-encompassing than it was this morning. Tomura sat down on the curb and pulled out his phone while he waited for his brother. He opened his browser, his homepage was stuffed to the brim with various news articles speaking of political instability, economic downturns, and conspiracy theories that had grown in popularity over the course of the past few years. Ignoring the day to day prophecies of doom the headlines foretold, Tomura directed Chrome to his favorite comic website, and dug into a new webcomic he had found the day before. It was Lore Olympus, a retelling of the kidnapping of Persephone, written by Rachel Smythe. He found the characters compelling, and the modern spin put on such a classic tale interesting. However, he’d never admit to reading something so girly as a romance comic, which is why he jumped about a foot in the air when he heard his brother call his name.

“Hey,” he said, voice cracking as Hisashi approached from behind.

“What are you reading?”

“Uh, nothing!” Tomura replied as he shut off his phone, hastily shoving it into his pocket. He stood up, hands clutching his backpack straps like a life line once again.

Hisashi smirked, sensing his younger brother’s discomfort like a shark to blood, “It doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased.

“Shut up.”

“Come on, there’s no harm in telling me is there?” His eyes widened in mock surprise, “Or is it something you aren’t supposed to be reading?”

“No no no, it’s nothing like that! I’m not even into that stuff,” Tomura’s face grew beet red as he tried to hide his face in his hands, “I’m only eleven!” He speedily began walking towards their apartment, which was a few blocks away.

Hisashi clicked his tongue, trailing behind him, “Oh mother would be so disappointed.”

“It’s just a webcomic!”

“Sure, sure, if you say so.”

Tomura let out a groan of frustration and distress, which just made his older brother break his cool composure and laugh. They both rounded the corner, walking through a strip mall that held a gas station, deli, and used electronics store. The latter of which displayed a myriad of TVs in the shop window, all of which were playing the news.

“Here to talk about the strange increase in birth defects and mutations in newborns is Dr. Garaki, a specialist from Japan.”

Hisashi stopped in front of the shop window, it seemed like that little snippet had caught his attention. Their parents didn’t play the news very often. Between their father’s juggling of several minimum wage jobs, and their mother’s job in a nail salon, they were barely able to keep afloat. According to their mom, they didn’t want the extra stress in the house. Tomura could understand why, even social media stressed him out. Hisashi thought it was stupid. The man onscreen was stout, wore round gleaming spectacles, and had a cartoonishly bushy mustache, which was the only hair on his head. He wore a lab coat, and Tomura couldn’t help but think he resembled Dr. Eggman from the Sonic cartoons.

“Well, you see, I believe this to be the next step in evolution for humanity. These are not defects, but rather mutations in genetic code. We still have yet to see where this goes, but when you look at the genome sequences of these newborns..”

The scientist kept rambling in jargon Tomura couldn’t really understand, he glanced at his brother, who looked absolutely enraptured by the interview.

“As for why there’s so many sudden mutations and why children have started presenting odd abilities? Perhaps it is the pandemic that swept through the world not so many years ago, the virus may have altered our DNA. Or perhaps it’s what we put in our water and food, studies have shown that..”

“Hisashi,” Tomura interrupted, “We should head home, we’re really close to the main road and mom told us not to go on those.”

His brother opened his mouth to protest, but as he did, they heard commotion from the street that ran parallel to them, where most of the shops were. It seemed like the protest had begun. “Fine,” he sighed, looking torn between the story that caught his interest and his little brother’s pleading gaze, his lips twitched, “but you’re telling me exactly what it is you were reading.”

The boys started walking again, “Are you ever going to drop this?”

“Nope! I just want to know what my kid brother’s up to.”

Tomura reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, keeping his head down as he opened up the web comic. He began to ramble about Lore Olympus as his brother listened fondly, making the occasional teasing remark. The walk to their apartment building seemed to go by quickly after that, and before Tomura knew it he heard the familiar jingling of keys as Hisashi began his daily battle with their faulty door knob.

He struggled with it for a little while, frustration worming it’s way onto his face when Tomura piped up, “Do you need help?”

Of course, it was in that moment that the door chose to finally give in. “No,” Hisashi responded, deadpan.

They were greeted by the familiar sight of the empty apartment, as both parents had left for work by then. Hisashi made a bee-line for the living room couch, searching the room for the ever elusive TV remote. In contrast, Tomura went into their room, excited to sift through his ridiculous collection of comic books so he could trade with Zach tomorrow and show off his evidence that Marvel quite clearly made the superior comics (and movies, but that was neither here nor there).

Tomura found himself sitting on the messy carpeted floor, with sorted piles of comic books scattered all around him. In his hands was an old Amazing Spider-Man comic, worn with folded corners and yellowing pages. It smelled of the dusty, now bankrupt comic book store he had bought it from for what was, in his eyes, an absolute steal. In his favorite panel, Captain America is looking down at Peter Parker, broad and imposing during their darkest hour. He gives the young hero a pep talk, saying words that Tomura would find ringing in his ears years later.

Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world — "No, you move.”

A/N: This first chapter was fairly fluffy, but the next one will be much darker. These first few chapters will be slice of life so that I can set the stage for Plot To Happen. If I'm inaccurate in how I write EDS please tell me, and I'll do my best to fix it. Feel free to leave a comment!

Ao3

Next Chapter

#bnha #my hero academy #boku no hero academia #dad for one #original holder of one for all #all for one #pre-canon #pre-quirks #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #fic #origin story

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: In Bad Waters - part six Word count: ±3400 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part six summary: Sam goes back to Zoë’s hotel to pick up his lost phone, but the state he finds her in is both shocking and familiar. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

Preparing himself for a rant, Sam knocks on the door of room 17. He’s standing in the corridor of the Hampton Inn after the receptionist allowed him upstairs, recognizing him from the night before and believing his story when he gave her an excuse. It takes a while before someone grants him access to the suite, but when he’s about to knock for the second time, the door opens. “Sam...” Zoë grunts, sounding like a sixty year old whiskey drinker who smokes at least a pack a day.

As he enters the room, he notices the gun in her right hand, which she held behind the door in case she had bad company. The music playlist from last night is still playing, 2+2= by Bob Seger currently on. Zoë adjusts her PJ shorts, the Nirvana shirt hanging from one shoulder and her wavy hair a bird’s nest; she looks like she’s experiencing the worst hangover ever. “Are you alright?” Sam checks, carefully. “Yeah, just a bad night,” she mutters. “You were fine when I left,” he recalls, surprised by her state. She doesn’t respond and drags her feet to the bathroom. Sam hears the water falling down in the sink. She’s probably attempting to freshen up a little. “I left my phone here somewhere,” Sam informs, before Zoë asks about his visit. No answer, not even a smart comment. Somewhat worried, Sam peeks around the corner. Zoë is leaning on the sink with one hand, pressuring her other palm against her forehead. She has her eyes firmly shut, every muscle in her body tenses; she’s in pain. “You’re not alright,” Sam notices and walks in to support her, but she shrugs him off. “It’s nothing, just leave me alone,” the huntress snaps.

Without granting Sam another second of her attention, Zoë saunters into the room and turns down the music, annoyed by the sound of the guitar that only amplifies the throbbing inside her skull. Instead, she switches on the TV while rubbing her face, steadying herself against the back of the sofa.

As Sam observes her, the gears in his head start to turn. She seems ill, feverish almost, as if she’s fighting off an infection. Something about her conditions is familiar. Unable to catch a breath, clammy skin, dizziness. The feeling of being run over by a sixteen wheeler, a bass drum pounding through one’s head, as if they were inches from an amplifier at a concert all night long. Then it clicks.

“You had a vision.”

Startled, Zoë looks aside. Shit. How the hell did he pick up on that? Surely she’s a mess, but Sam must have the exact same symptoms in order for him to figure it out this fast. She cannot let him know, though, and so she recovers quickly. “No, I didn’t. It's migraines.” She shrugs it off and looks back at the television. Sam keeps reading her while the local TV station brings them the latest news. She tries to concentrate on the screen, but feels Sam’s burning eyes. Then she snaps at him. “Stop trying to find things that aren’t there, Sam.” “You’re lying.” Sam knows. She sighs with an eye roll and turns up the volume. “No, I’m not. Now drop it.” “I’m not gonna drop it.” He steps between her and the TV, blocking her view. “You were dying to know about my visions from the moment you learned I have them.” “I’m watching that,” she voices, annoyed with his intrusion. “And I’m talking to you,” Sam returns with an attitude.

She gives him a look that could kill and steps around him to have a clear view of the screen again, trying her best to ignore the hunter and not blow up on the guy. He better not push her, because he has no idea what would be coming for him. “Headaches, black spots, nausea right after you wake up,” Sam sums up. “You have them.” “Would you shut the fuck up for one second?!” Zoë hushes him violently.

It’s just now that the news on the TV catches Sam’s attention. She’s not just agitated with him because she doesn’t want to talk about the paranormal powers they have in common; there’s actually something on the local news that’s worth their attention.

“In Paragould, the body of a man has been discovered. This morning, Bill Van Dyke was found deceased in his own home, and the Paragould Police Department are considering his death to be suspicious. Local authorities claim that the family were home during the time of death.”

“Shit,” Zoë spats. “What is it?” Sam glances aside. She sighs, still watching the screen as another reporter at the scene gives more information about the incident. “He died the same way Robert Shire did.” “The girl’s father?” Sam checks, remembering the surname of ‘Shire’ engraved on Laura’s tombstone. Zoë nods in confirmation as the reporter in the studio takes over again.

“Bill Van Dyke, the principal of Woodrow Wilson Elementary in Paragould, was a pillar of support to the local community--”

Zoë doesn’t hear the rest of the report, the sound fading out as her gaze locks on the school building, which is shown on the screen. She recognizes that building. “It’s her,” she knows. “That can’t be. You salted and burned her bones,” Sam brings to mind. “I’m aware of that, Sam. I dug her up myself,” she hisses, as she opens her closet and takes out her suit, her actions hasty and on the edge of aggressive. “Something is keeping her here, an object maybe. Fuck!” “Guess you’re staying in town a bit longer than expected,” he concludes. “Guess so, but I don’t have time for this shit.” Zoë mutters and takes off her shirt, putting on a white blouse as if she’s alone in the room. Sam averts his eyes, awkwardly, but the huntress isn't bothered. “Nothing you haven't seen, Sam,” she comments, perky. Nevertheless he turns away from her, uneasily staring out the window. For a second he considers offering their help on this job, but he’s quite sure she will reject anyway. Besides, they have their own case to deal with.

Rushing, Zoë gets into her dress pants, which she just pulled out of dry cleaner plastic a moment ago. “How can you be so sure it’s Laura?” Sam wonders. “Laura was a 4th grader at Woodrow Wilson Elementary” she explains. He shrugs. “So? What did Van Dyke ever do to her?” “Her gym teacher knew about the abuse. My guess is that the principal knew too and didn’t do anything,” Zoë presumes, pulling a thin leather belt through the loops. “How do you even know that her teacher was aware? You couldn’t have seen her already, not in his short amount of time. Admit it; you see things,” Sam’s pushes.

Zoë huffs, half shaking her head and well aware that Sam will not buy the bullshit. She wasn't planning on telling him, but the younger Winchester brother might be the one person she can trust when it comes to her abilities. He’s special, just like she is, and neither of them have a clue what is going on. He’s in the dark, just like her. Telling him would involve certain risks, though. Afterall, he is a hunter, one who she just met. “Zo, start talking,” Sam coerces. “Alright! I see things! There, I said it. Happy now?” she cries out.

The confession is as much as a surprise to Sam as it is to Zoë; did she just say that out loud? Shocked, Sam stares at her, but he’s not sure if he’s so stunned by the information of the statement itself or because of the fact that Zoë just told him the truth. Disoriented, his eyes wander off as it slowly starts to sink in what this means; he’s not alone.

“You have visions, just like me?” he recaps. “Not entirely,” Zoë says as she buttons her jacket. “You dream about the future, I dream about the past.” “Like flashbacks?” Sam questions. “Something like that, yeah. But there’s no possible way I could know these things, you know? Most of the time I don’t even know the people who are involved,” she explains, frustration evident in her voice. “Tell me ‘bout it,” Sam replies with a chuckle.

A glint of a smile pulls at Zoë’s lips as she looks up. A feeling she hasn’t experienced in quite a while comes to her. Relief, recognition, as if a weight just fell off her shoulders now that she finally told someone about the secret she has been carrying around for so long. She wishes she could just get it all out of her system, tell him about the other issues that she’s involved in, but she can’t. Besides, there’s little time and still a lot to do.

Zoë slips into her pumps, takes her FBI identification out of her duffel and puts it in her inside pocket. “That’s how you pick your cases, isn’t it?” Sam now understands how Zoë can get to a scene with not much visual evidence, at least not visible to outsiders. “First I didn’t, because I didn’t understand what was happening to me. But then I thought: Hey, I’m having these flashbacks for a reason, I might as well check it out,” she elaborates before she steps into the bathroom and starts applying makeup. Sam nods at that, agreeing. “Good point.” Maybe he should start seeing the dreams as clues, too. If he had listened to the visions in the first place, Jessica might still be alive right now.

He watches how the woman of many faces basically shapeshifts, going from the groggy, hungover girl in PJ’s to an autorical, tough as nails federal agent. Zoë ties her hair back into a tight ponytail, the look really sending the message that she will take absolutely no bullshit. But under that facade, the role she takes on and hides behind, Sam sees something else; she is nervous, restless, anxious even. “What’s going on, Zo?” Sam confronts her, his tone supportive, however.

For a moment she stops fixing her hair and places her hands on her hips. The huntress takes a breath as she searches for words, deciding what she can tell him without giving him too much information. “I’m on a bit of a time schedule,” she admits. “I need to finish this case before tonight.” Sam narrows his eyes, concerned, trying to read her. “What kind of time schedule?” “It’s personal,” she cuts off, immediately.

Her eyes bore into his, warning him not to ask another question. It’s clear as day that she is not going to give him an inch on this. Intimidated by her gaze, he decides not to dig further. “What happens if you can’t put her spirit to rest in time?” “I’ll make it,” Zoë responds, sure of herself. “You don't know that,” he argues. “I’ll have to leave town, case closed or not,” she adds simply, walking around the bed to pick up her phone from her nightstand. “What?! You’re just gonna give up a case?” Sam disapproves. “I’ve seen hunters do it before,” she says with a tone, straightening her back and standing a little taller. “So? Then they suck!” Sam exclaims. Zoë snorts, not disagreeing with him there, but the young Winchester isn’t finished yet. “Laura will keep haunting this town and every one who might have the slightest connection to her death. Do you have any idea how many could end up dead?” Sam tries to make her see. “I don’t. Have. A choice,” she states, pronouncing her words slowly and loud, as if Sam suffers hearing loss. “You do,” Sam corrects. “You always have a choice.” “You should have a poster made with those words, Gandhi,” Zoë responds sassy.

She has gathered her keys and her motorcycle helmet now, ready to head out. Sam doesn’t seize his plea, though. “Let us help you,” he offers. After halting abruptly, the huntress slowly turns her head and stares at him for a brief moment, then she laughs out loud.

“No way in hell,” she chuckles, apparently finding the proposition ridiculous. “Why not?” Sam wants to know. “Because I don’t team up with others. The moment you depend on someone other than yourself, you’re vulnerable. You start to trust people you shouldn’t trust and when it all goes wrong, people die,” she states. “What about covering each other’s backs? Looking out for your partner?” Sam brings up the bright side of cooperation. “Apparently that isn’t for me, and believe me; I’ve experienced it,” Zoë comments, a speck of pain edging her voice.

Sam is not sure what the young huntress means by that, but he can read from her eyes that whatever happened, it still hurts her. He keeps quiet for a moment, but then continues with a calm tone. “Hear me out. We can take over the case completely and you can go wherever you need to go. We’re in the same hunting fields, so why shoot at each other in order to get rid of the competition when we can split up. Dean and I can handle this,” Sam ensures. “I believe you can, but I’m not the type who lets someone else do the dirty jobs. I got this one, I just need to make good time,” Zoë assures as she heads for the door. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a crime scene to investigate.”

She holds the door for Sam, her piercing eyes telling him without words to get out of her suite. The younger Winchester lets a sigh slip from his lips as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment. There’s absolutely no way to get through to that woman, he thinks to himself as he walks outside before she locks the door. The sharp thumps of her heels echo through the lobby, when she hastily parades to the parking lot while taking out her shades. Just before she walks out, Sam stops her by laying her hand on her shoulder.

“Zoë…” She spins around, not keen on the physical contact. “If you need help, call me,” he insists. “You know I won’t, Sammy,” she reacts, pushing the sunglasses onto her nose. “Don’t - don’t call me Sammy,” he mumbles under his breath, watching her stride away to her Harley Davidson. After putting on her helmet, she starts the engine and rides off, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Defeated, Sam turns to the Impala, which is parked on one of the taxi spots. A thin layer of dust covers the black car, which seems to boil in the early morning sun. It’s awfully quiet. No ear blasting rock tunes from the radio, no Dean jamming on his air guitar. Sam peeks through the window of the passenger’s side and finds his brother fast asleep. He can’t see Dean’s eyes because of the sunglasses he’s wearing to cut out the light his hungover brain cannot tolerate, but his head rests half against the window, tilted slightly backwards. Sam’s thoughts go back to the day before yesterday, when they parked the car in front of the pharmacy and Dean scared the shit out of him by slamming his fist against the window. Of course, Sam can’t resist doing the same thing and hits the window right on the spot where Dean’s leaning against on the other side.

“Kelly Clarkson!” Dean cries out spooked, as he bumps his head up against the hardtop of the car. With a big smirk on his face, Sam walks around the car just as victoriously as his brother did the other day, and settles in the driver's seat. When he sees his brother’s confused expression, he can’t help but laugh. “Man, that’s so not cool,” Dean mutters with a raspy voice as he rubs his face.

“Got what I came for.” Sam holds up his Blackberry. “Did you have to wake me up for that?” Dean takes off his shades and narrows his eyes against the bright sun. “No, that was just for fun,” Sam grins. “Bitch,” Dean grumbles. “Jerk,” Sam returns with a smile. “I have another update by the way.” “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean wonders, carelessly, resting his head against the cool glass again. “We’re staying in town for a couple more days,” Sam informs.

He got Dean’s attention with that notification, all right. His older brother looks up at him and although he can barely keep his eyes open, Sam can tell that he’s curious for more info. “What? Werewolf turned out to be a coyote?” Dean assumes. “Not really, but there’s still a case here,” Sam begins to explain, while taking the car keys from his pocket. “So? It’s Sullivan’s case, I ain’t touching that with a ten foot pole,” Dean makes clear. “Aren’t you happy you can hang out with Denise?” Sam persuades, hoping to change his mind. “Oh, no. I know what you’re doing.” Dean sits up straight and smirks, on to his little brother’s persuasiveness. “You’re trying to make this seem brochure perfect, but this isn’t about Denise. Spill it.”

Sam sighs. Damn, there goes his master plan. Although he gets the impression that Dean can't stand the female hunter, Sam decides to tell the truth. “I think Zoë needs help,” he admits. “The last time you thought that I ended up in a bridal suite with a shapeshifter and you got dumped in a septic tank with our damsel in distress,” Dean recalls. “Did she ask for your help?” “No, not re--” “- Did she accept your offer?” Dean asks again. “No, but --” “- Then we ain’t helping her,” Dean decides.

“Come on, Dean. We can’t leave her like that,” Sam tries. “She’s a big girl, Sam. And a damn good hunter too. She’ll be fine,” Dean assures. “I don’t know, man. Something doesn’t seem right,” Sam ponders. “She told me she’s on some sort of time schedule or something.” “Yeah, her period. Guessing it’s coming up to that time of the month,” Dean grumbles, sarcastically. He has lost interest in the conversation and crosses his arms in front of his chest, tugging deeper into the seat.

“She’s gonna leave town tonight, case closed or not,” Sam clarifies. Dean opens his eyes and looks aside. “You really think she would leave a job unfinished?” Dean wonders. Sam shrugs. “Apparently.” “That deadline must be pretty damn important,” the oldest brother concludes. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt if we stay until tonight, see if she manages to wrap up the case in time. But after that, we’re off to Texas. I was looking forward to that wolf hunt.”

Satisfied with that compromise, Sam starts the engine. Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Looking Out My Back Door sounds from the radio of the classic car, built around the same time that this song was hitting the charts. By the time the Chevrolet leaves the parking lot, Dean has looked up Denise’s number and is on the phone with her. Fuck the appropriate time to wait until reaching out. This is a booty call; the regular rules of dating don’t apply.

“Hey… No, you didn’t forget anything. I just couldn’t wait to call you…. Yeah, I’d love to get together again. I’ll probably have to leave town in a few days, so… tonight? Alright, sounds great.” Dean gives Sam an exaggerated wink. “At her place,” Sam half mouths, half whispers, making sure Denise doesn’t pick up on his words. “One sec, sweetheart.” Dean presses his hand on the microphone and looks aside. “Having plans for tonight, Romeo?” Sam glares at him and Dean returns his attention back to Denise, who started talking to him again. “Your place, you say? At eight? Cool, I’ll see you tonight then… looking forward to it, too… Alright, bye.” They both hang up and Dean smirks satisfied. “You are unbelievable, you know that?” Sam comments while shaking his head. "Oh, I'm unbelievably irresistible,” his brother replies, victoriously.

Just as Sam decides to turn right, a weird soft roar sounds from inside the car. “What the hell was that?” Sam looks around. “My GPS is telling you to make a left,” Dean explains. The youngest of the two looks aside at his brother who’s pressing his hand on his hungry stomach. Now Sam looks over to the left and spots the yellow zigzag arrow above an In-N-Out restaurant. He laughs, he should have known. “I see,” he grins and makes the turn. “Drive thru?”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter seven here

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ibringyouasong89 · 3 years

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Self-Awareness Time, Part One:

So I’m reading this article one day, (see article here: https://psych2go.net/6-signs-youll-be-single-forever/), and realize how some of this is true, but also some of it is bullshit. Spoiler Alert: I haven’t had a boyfriend since I was 18. Is it because I haven’t wanted to be with someone, or be in a relationship, since that one ended? Quite the contrary, actually. I have dreamed, since I was a small child, of a perfect soulmate for me, and that it would be a Disney-movie-ending come true for the rest of my life. Having my first (and since then, only) boyfriend break up with me (so he could go out with my ex-best friend, who in turn, dumped her boyfriend of three years - who was my childhood friend from elementary school - in order to be with him; it was dramatic, stupid, and messy, i.e. we were teenagers who thought they knew themselves but didn’t have a clue) did not, in fact, deter those dreams at all. The problem is that I didn’t learn to love myself. I learned to move on, which is always wonderful, but I didn’t hold myself in any higher esteem than I had before, and while I was with him. It wasn’t a reflection on being with him, but more or less, a reflection of myself and how I saw myself, based on my childhood and certain experiences. Fast forward a couple of years later: my parents are divorced, my father is dead, my childhood friends have disappeared out of my life for the most part, I live with my mother and grandfather (who was close to dying himself), and I am now living in a different state, faraway from everything I know and love and hate everything about this new place. I hated (and still do, for many of these points) the polluted environment, I hated the lack of nature (I moved to a metropolitan-region within the realm of a major city), I hated how crowded it is, I hated how everyone lives on top of one another; I hate the noise, the traffic, and most of all, I hated how alien and out of place I feel. I knew I didn’t belong, but because of finances, and having an ineffective bachelor’s degree (that didn’t come with a lifetime guarantee of having a career, as promised by my parents and elder generations. Though it did come with the nice guarantee of student loans), I was unable to move anywhere else. I was unable to be independent, financially or otherwise, and could do nothing to make my dreams a reality or to improve my life. In short, I was stuck. And hating every minute of it, along with myself. To be fair, I wasn’t an emotionally healthy person to start off with - but I mean, who is by the time they’re 23, 24 years old, and a culminating reflection of time, pressure, past abuse, parental issues, trust issues, abandonment issues, lack of socializing/being ostracized for being different, and self-worth and self-love issues? No one, and I mean, NO ONE, is taught how to love themselves, completely, as a child. I don’t care who raised you or where you grew up. This is a fundamental truth and fact. But I met someone. Lo and behold, there came this divine gift, one day, of someone who was just like me! He didn’t have the same issues as I, but he understood in a general sense (as any individual who has a certain degree of sympathy and empathy can do), and made me feel seen (even if I hated it at times). Someone who, in all honesty, has fundamentally changed me forever. And to think I met him at my job! (i.e. retail). This person...well, I thought he might’ve been THE ONE. I was really, REALLY in love with him. More so than I ever thought I could be with someone. Our connection was real and based on emotional, mental, and spiritual intimacy (there was none of the physical, which was probably for the best, in the end), and I had never loved anybody before, in the entire history of being connected to family and friends, the way I had loved him. I thought he was truly something special - a gift from the universe that not only allowed to experience this once-in-a-lifetime kind of love, but also because of how OBVIOUS it was that we were meant for each other. (I was so arrogant back then and admit it heartily now). Well, suffice to say, it didn’t end in rainbows-and-sunshine-for-years-to-come. He had already been entering a relationship when I met him, while also having his heart broken by another girl. As the saying goes: wrong place and time. While I was busy pining over him and fantasizing about us being together romantically (after building this incredible connection and deep friendship), he was happily living his life and enjoying his relationship...even though, for a time, he went out of his way to spend time with me and deepen our emotional intimacy further. He told me things about himself, and his life, that he swore he had never told another human being before in his life. But it all came to a grinding halt one day - out of the blue - when he severed our connection with all of the swiftness and severity of a well-placed swing from a sharpened blade. Later he would confess that it wasn’t intentional - it was because he was busy cutting other people out of his life and I got caught up in the “crossfires” of it all via social media and the like *insert eyeroll here* - but that he had also been conscious of my burgeoning feelings for him, and felt “flattered” that I had come to regard him so greatly. He promised to re-open the lines of communication between us again and to be a better friend. Spoiler Alert Part Two: None of these promises were fulfilled. Now, some of you (or whoever reads this long-ass personal post) might say “Well, maybe in knowing about your feelings, THAT was why he didn’t bother talking to you anymore. It made him uncomfortable, especially since he was in a relationship with someone else. He just wanted to make a clean break.” To be completely honest, I was aware of that possibility from the get-go. The problem is that he claimed (during this period of seeking me out and spending quality time with me) his relationship with his girlfriend was “casual.” That he was more than aware that he was her first boyfriend, but that he knew it wouldn’t last. In knowing that, he still pursued a relationship with that girl (though his self-prophecy did come to pass...three years later). Now, there were never any promises made about entering a relationship with ME, as some of you may point out as well. I agree. There are, and never will be, any guarantees when it comes to the heart. Someone who learns to love another is quite capable of also learning how to un-love that same individual, at any time. And hatred, as many know, is not the opposite of love; apathy is its true counterpart.

No, what was truly hurtful was that he knew that truth, honesty, compassion, consideration, and genuineness were core values of mine. Values that I thought he shared...but turned out to be lies when he revealed his regard, or lack-there-of, for me in the end. When he did not confront me over my feelings for him and instead played ignorant for the sake of his own happiness. When he promised that this did not interfere with his ability to be my friend, even after confessing said romantic intentions to him, and probably lying about it all the same. He knew of my past, my issues, and had probably guessed at my level of loneliness and knew about my lack of friends since moving away from my hometown...and didn’t think twice of ditching me, nor of how his sudden “ignorance” about our bond would effect my feelings. That being “one of the guys” was my true status - despite the fact that I have breasts, a vagina, lack a penis, and had never acted in a “masculine way” around him (aside from being intelligent, having common sense, being interested in comic books, music, and movies, having a deep appreciation for classic muscle cars, and a biting sense of sarcasm); i.e. no hanging out in bars with him and his male friends, no doing stupid shit for giggles, no running around in the middle of the night to each other’s houses to smoke pot and drink in the basement, not being into sports and wrestling, recalling the same stupid stories from high school and retelling them, over and over again, along with the same stupid jokes, etc...And I’m not judging any female (or person) who does DO this, or enjoy these things! I’m just simply describing how he, and his friends, acted and what their similar interests are. I was “friend-zoned” (which is a ridiculous phrase, but I can’t think of anything else to describe it as), but was NOT treated like a friend any longer. I was treated like a stranger or an acquaintance that you remember vaguely seeing in the hallways and cafeteria when you attend your high school reunion (that guy who makes you go “Oh, *Insert Name Here*! Omg! How are you?! Wow, it’s been a while! Great to see you lost all that weight! So uh...how’s things?”). In short: I was being gas-lit. For anyone who has experienced this, you have my deepest sympathies and my ear and shoulder, whenever you would like. Of course part of the blame falls on me too: for treating romantic love like a drug I couldn’t live without, for depending on someone too much for my happiness, and for allowing myself to be treated as someone who is less than worthy of real love, respect, consideration, kindness, compassion, and honest, open communication.

So, not only did this guy break my heart, but he also threw me, and our friendship, away like it all meant nothing. It became obvious then that I, and our bond, had never mattered to him at all. The worst part is that he continued to flirt with me, stringing me along (unknowingly or not), while also maintaining this enforced distance! (Which is also COMPLETELY WRONG TO DO TO ANYONE!) In truth, I think he’s an unaware narcissist who doesn’t realize, on an unconscious level, how manipulative he can really be. It’s sad. But I know, without wishing for it or egging the universe on, that there is a lesson waiting for him in the wings of the cosmos that will enable him to truly understand the lows, and highs, of true personal awareness (if it should come to pass - anything is possible, in any way, shape, or form). But back to the point: In conclusion, my soul was shattered. My heart was a destroyed. I fell into a depression based, not only on this heartbreak, but also my heart being broken by ME. I was so unhappy with everything going on, and not, in my life and it all felt so hopeless and pointless. I could see no path forward, no future for myself, that didn’t result either in me being unhappy or being unstuck. (Hell, even writing about all of this is allowing the phantom pains to rise from their graves in my heart, which makes me realize how much healing, and self-love, I still have to gain). This, however, was the beginning of my awakening for me.

It dawned on me like the rising sun within me that I really SHOULDN’T put stock into having people depended upon so much to MAKE me happy. I should be making MYSELF happy. But then the deepest question, out of the pit of darkness within my soul, arose: Why WASN’T I happy with myself?

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strangerthingsharrington · 4 years

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Can’t Fight This Feeling

-18-

We ran out of the movie theatre hunched over to try and not alert Robin and Erica who were still sitting in seats on the opposite side of our row.

As soon as we were out of the theatre Steve and I laughed until we almost couldn't breath. I placed my hand over my chest and bent forward in fits of laughter.

I stood back up and saw Steve leaning against a wall with his eyes closed mid laugh.

I stopped laughing and looked at him. My crush on him had evolved into more than it was in elementary school. I...I really liked Steve. And it was almost soul crushing because I knew that it would never happen.

But in the same breath it felt different between us. I could feel that even in the weird state we were in after being injected. We've defended each other, been stuck in a Russian under ground lair together, held hands, shared looks.

Maybe there was something there, maybe there wasn't. Maybe I'd find out, maybe I wouldn't.

"Lou?" I heard him ask.

I refocsued on his face and smiled, "Steve?"

He grinned at me, "Water time!"

I nodded enthusiastically and followed him to the water fountain, where he motioned for me to go first.

I walked up to the fountain and pressed the button, smiling when the stream of water came up. I bent down and the second my lips touched the cold water and went down my throat, I could feel how dry my throat actually was. It almost became painful as I continued drinking because of how long I went without it.

I pulled back and motioned for Steve to have some, which he did without hesitation.

I leaned against the wall and looked around the empty area.

"I want to watch the movie when I can focus on it," I stated.

Steve make a noise in agreement as he continued with the water.

"I really have no idea what was happening in it," he said breathlessly.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, "He went back in time...in the car I'm pretty sure."

"So he went back in time?" Steve asked.

I opened my eyes and looked over to him, seeing him still bent over the water fountain but his head turned to me.

"Yeah-I mean, I'm pretty sure," I told him.

He furrowed his brow, confused, "But it's called Back to the Future?"

I widened my eyes and nodded, "This is why I need to see this again without whatever they injected into us."

He nodded, agreeing with me, "Do you want more?" he asked, referencing the fountain.

I nodded and walked quickly over to the fountain, Steve stepped aside and I continued drinking more.

"Wow," I heard him say, "Lou, come look at this!"

I stopped drinking and went over to him, stopping right beside him, "Check this out," he said lightly, "this ceiling is...is beautiful."

I looked up to it and saw the twinkling lights and and glass windows showing off the night sky, it was very pretty.

"Wow," I whispered with a small smile.

The lights began moving, so I started turning in a circle trying to keep up with them. I giggled and continued spinning slowly watching the lights dancing.

And then...oh shit. The wave of nausea that hit was instantaneous.

I stopped spinning and tried to clear my throat. Saliva filled my mouth and my stomach turned. I felt myself swaying in place.

"Bathroom," I heard Steve croak out.

I looked over to him and saw his pale complexion and knew he was feeling the same way I was.

Not trusting myself to open my mouth, I nodded to him. He took off and I followed him down towards the door marked 'Restrooms,' where he pushed the door open roughly. We ran down the small hallway where we finally got to a bathroom and Steve opened the door leading to a bright room with multi coloured tiles on the walls. Most importantly, I saw the bathroom stalls.

Steve ran to the second stall and I ran into the first one, I fell to my knees in front of the toilet and let everything come up. Not that there was much in my system, but whatever was in there was coming up.

My throat and nose were burning, and I was kneeling there for at least five minutes, where all I did was vomit.

Finally, there was nothing else left. I flushed the toilet immediately and leaned my head back, away from the toilet and tried to catch my breath. My mouth tasted terrible and I was in dire need of gum or something.

I heard the toilet flush in the stall Steve was occupying. I coughed a few times and scooted back to lean against the wall, opposite of the stall.

I felt better. I think I had gotten most of, if not all, of the drug out of my system. I still felt a bit foggy and dizzy but I wasn't sure if that was from the puking or from the drug. All I knew for sure was that I felt drained. But I definitely wasn't feeling as dopey as I had been before.

I heard Steve groan from the next stall.

"You okay?" I asked quietly.

"I've honestly been better," he sighed.

I looked up, and felt relief when I saw the ceiling was no longer spinning the way it was out in the hallway.

"The ceiling stopped spinning for me...is it still spinning for you?" I asked.

"Holy shit," he said after a second of silence, "no. Do you think we puked it all up?"

I hummed, "I don't know, ask me something. Interrogate me."

He chucked from the other stall, "Interrogate you...when was the last time you peed your pants?"

I grinned, "Almost today," I told him honestly, "when the guy brought out the saw," I explained through a laugh, "I was terrified."

Steve laughed too, "Seriously?"

I laughed with him, "Almost!" I repeated.

"Yeah it's definitely still in our system," he mumbeled from the other side.

I leaned my head against the wall. My heart was thudding against my chest. I wanted to hear the honest answer to the question that was on the tip of my tongue.

"My turn!" I said breathlessly, "Have you ever been in love?" I wondered.

I sensed the hesitation on his end only for a second, "Yeah," he answered slowly, "Nancy Wheeler first semester senior year," he said, then made the sound of a gun shot.

I nodded, "Nancy's nice," I mused, "I've known her forever because Dustin is friends with Mike...and obviously because of her and Jonathan..."

"Yeah," he said quietly, "Nancy is...she's a good person."

I bit my lip, "Are you still in love with Nancy?" I asked quietly.

"No," he said instantly.

I leaned my head against the wall, "Why not?"

He sighed, "I think I found someone better for me," he told me.

I smiled sadly, "That's good, Steve."

"Yeah...Dustin's been telling me since he got back from camp that I gotta find my Suzie...and this girl...I dont know, she might be my Suzie," he said with certainty.

I felt my face flush. Part of me was hoping he was talking about me. The other part, the more rational part, knew that there was a chance we wasn't. This crush had been growing and festering in me since elementary school, but simmered in high school. The last little while I was having a bit of a...Steve Harrington renaissance. I was feeling something, a real something, for him.

The crush felt unattainable back then. Like I knew he wouldn't be interested in me, because he didn't associate with me. But now with it bubbling back up, and with the shit we'd been through the past few days...I thought we were close.

But hearing him talking about someone who might be his Suzie...that was a lot for me to take in. I was worried I would have to burst the bubble as soon as this was all over.

"What's she like?" I asked, as unwanted tears filled my eyes.

"She amazing," he said breathlessly, "and I just wish...that I had been hanging around her instead, during high school. I dunno, I guess I would've been worried about Tommy H making fun of me or something, or being worried that I wouldn't be Prom King," he said with a hint of disgust.

"Dustin's right though, all that stuff is just a bunch of bullshit," he sighed, "I should have been hanging around her the whole time," he stated adamant, "but I was just too stupid to look around, too stupid to see her.

"She's so funny," he continued happily, "I don't remember the last time I've laughed as much as I have with her. And man...she's smart, like, way smarter than me. She managed to help crack a Russian code and figure out the meaning behind it..."

I felt my eyes widen and my heart stop for a second.

Robin. Did he...like Robin? I wouldn't know how to talk to him about this if he was going to tell me he liked Robin. It wasn't my place to tell him he wasn't the gender she was even interested in. I would never do that to her.

"She sounds really great, Steve," I told him as I brought my knees up and leaned my head on them.

"Lou..." he began quietly, "I really am sorry for the way I acted to you in high school," Steve emotionally told me from the other stall.

I brought my head up and wiped away the tears that I so badly didn't want to be there, "I know."

He sighed deeply, "You never deserved any of that, Louise. You're seriously amazing and...like I told you...I dont want to be part of any bad memory that you have. And I dont think I'll ever forgive myself for making you feel upset."

I kept quiet but...as stupid as it was my heart felt like it was breaking. How could my heart break over something I didn't really have? Steve and I weren't together...he didn't like me...he didn't like me.

"Lou?" he asked, "Did you OD in there?"

I sniffled and wiped my eyes again, "No, I'm still alive," I said with a small chuckle.

Suddenly he was pushing himself from his stall underneath the barrier and into the stall I was sitting in.

"The floor is disgusting," I said as I wrapped my arms around my knees.

"Yeah well, I've already got a bunch of blood and puke on me so," he said brushing it off.

I could help but smile and giggle.

"Why are you crying?" he questioned worriedly.

I cleared my throat and tried to bypass it, "I think just...it's been a lot today and I think it's caught up to me."

Steve smiled sadly at me, "What do you think about this girl?"

My stomach was in knots. But I didn't want to show him that.

I smiled sadly at him and nodded, "She sounds...really great, Steve. You should talk to her about this."

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, that still managed to stay up even after everything we had been through the last little while, "I should never have been such an asshole to you, Lou. Never. If I knew all the shit that I know now back then...no....I never would have done that shit to you."

I spread my legs out in front of me and leaned my head against the wall and looked over to sinks, "An almost end of the world epiphany, I can take that."

"Lou," he said putting his hand on my knee, I looked at him and took in his face. Beat up, swollen, cut, bruised, bloodied. But sincere.

"If I had known you...really known you back then, it would have been different."

I smiled, "You're just saying that because you became weirdly good friends with my little brother. Then you and I got taken by Russian spies and tortured."

He shook his head before the words were even fully out of my mouth, "No, I'm saying it because if I wasn't so blinded by trying to be this popular douchebag, I would have seen how selfless, brave, kind, loving, funny, loyal, strong you are. I would have seen you, Louise Henderson.

"Even these last few months being friends with Dustin, I should have seen it, and I'm sorry that I didn't. This...what? Almost week with you has been more eye opening then my last nineteen years on earth have been."

I smiled faintly at him and sent him a small shake of my head, "Well, like I said, Steve Harrington, I forgive you," I reiterated.

He let out a loud breath through his nose but sent me a tight lipped smile, "Do you get what I've been getting at?"

I tilted my head, "No?" I questioned, confused

He smiled and let out a laugh before squeezing my knee, "I ...think you're great, Lou. Like...really great. And I've developed...a bit of a crush on you," he said breathlessly, "and by a bit i mean a lot, like...yeah a lot."

I sat up straighter and looked at him, "What?"

His eyes moved back and forth rapidly, "Didn't you...I was talking about you that whole time, Lou," he told me.

I breathed out a small laugh, "I thought...I thought you were talking about Robin," I explained awkwardly.

He furrowed his brows at me, "Robin? No, I mean, I really like Robin in the sense that she's going to be one of my best friends for the rest of our lives like I said before. But you're...completely different. You make me feel good about myself, and make me want to be better, Lou."

I couldn't help the little laugh that bubbled past my lips, "I think you still have that drug in your system."

He smiled at me and shook his head, "No...I think I'm finally thinking clearly."

I grinned and shook my head. Just pure absolute happiness was radiating through me. My stomach was in knots but for the first time in a while, it was pleasant.

"Unless you don't feel the same?"

I looked back to him quickly, he looked worried and nervous. I shook my head at him immediately.

"No, no," I told him, "I like you too, Steve. I have for a long time," I smiled.

He breathed out airly and smiled at me, "I'm sorry I was slow to catch up."

"You caught up," I shrugged, "that's the important part."

He looked down at his lap, "Maybe we can go out when this is all done?" he asked, looking back up to me, hopeful, "Like tomorrow night?"

I grinned, "I think...that might be fun," I nodded, "As long as your face isn't hurting too much or anything."

"If it meant hanging out with you without Russians or monsters coming after us...then it'd be worth it," he said quietly, smiling.

"Sounds good then, Steve," I said, trying to hold in the giddiness I was feeling.

"What should we do?" he mused.

I smiled over at him, "Anthing but coming to Starcourt!"

We both began laughing but a second later the bathroom door burst open and in came Dustin, Robin and Erica.

"Okay," Dustin started, "what the hell?" he yelled looking between me and Steve.

Steve and I looked to each other and began laughing again.

"No, no, no, come on," Robin said, stepping up to the two of us, "I know you're both drugged out, but it's not the time," she said bending down to help me up.

I smiled up at her as I stood up with her, "No, we're good now," I said motioning to myself and Steve, "pretty sure we got it out of us."

Relief flooded her face as she nodded, "Okay well, then you can understand this. Don't run off when we're still be chased by Russian guards!" she yelled, irritated.

I looked over and saw Steve standing next to me, we shared a small smile before I looked back to Robin, "Sorry," we said in unison.

She rolled her eyes and nodded before Erica spoke up, "Listen can you two nerds hold it together and not get us killed? I'm tired of being chased by a bunch of Commies!"

"Okay," Steve said raising his hands, "what's the next move?"

“We leave the mall," Dustin began, "get the hell away from Starcourt. We're gonna blend in with the rest of the crowd and disappear."

I nodded, "Okay...okay, so when are we going?"

Dustin looked back at the door, then back to us, motioning for us to follow him, "Let's see if it's done," he said quietly.

We followed him out of the bathroom and down the hall, leading us to the door separating us from the movie theatre area.

Dustin opened the door slowly and I could immediately hear the chattering of people and I figured either the Back to the Future movie or some other movie had finished because people were all around in the lobby where Steve and I had, stupidly, been spinning in circles.

Robin, Dustin and Erica were in front of Steve and I , with Steve standing directly behind me. My hand was hanging slightly behind me with Steve's fingers laced in mine.

Dustin looked back to us for a second before opening the door fully and walking out into the crowd with us following him.

My breathing had picked up slightly, knowing that the guards were still after us and probably milling about looking out for us.

"Well shit, that worked," Erica stated with a grin.

"Of course it worked, we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and we'll be home sweet home," Dustin said, laying out the rest of the plan.

I scanned the area to see if anyone stuck out watching us.

Steve cleared his throat from next to me, "Huh...Dustin...we might not want to go back to your house."

I gritted my teeth, remembering that Steve had said Dustin's name to the Russians. He only said his first name, but I doubt they would have a hard time figuring out who he was. Not that I was angry at Steve at all. Angry that the Russians had gotten to us.

"Why?" Dustin asked quickly.

"I might have given them your first name," he said quietly.

Dustin looked back at us, "What? Why?"

"We were drugged, Dustin," I reminded him, "we couldn't exactly control ourselves."

"So? You resist! You tough it out like a man!" my little brother said sternly.

I swatted him across the back of the head, "Ow!" he yelped looking back at me with a dirty look.

"Next time how about you be the one sleep deprived and taken by Russians, beat up, knocked out and drugged and see how well you resist," I suggested.

Dustin rolled his eyes at me and turned to face forward, while Steve squeezed my hand tightly. I looked up at Steve and saw him watching me with a small smile. I smiled back at him softly.

"Guys?" Robin said quietly, sounding frightened.

I looked to her and saw her looking straight ahead, I followed her line of vision and saw the two men who we ran into once we were out of the elevator.

"Oh shit," I whispered just as one of the men looked in our direction.

"Abort! Abort!" Dustin called as we all almost began tripping over ourselves to turn around quickly and start running in the opposite way.

We got to the escalator but they weren't on and were totally blocked off.

Robin went to the area between the two escalators and sat down at the top and pushed herself down the metal slide that was between them.

"Come on," Steve instructed, pushing me to go after Robin.

I sat and pushed off and slid down quickly with Robin grabbing my hand to help me up after I made it to the bottom with Dustin, Erica and Steve coming down one right after the other.

"We have to hide," Dustin whispered, "come on!"

We followed behind my brother and ran over to one of the food places and hopped over the counter positioning ourselves on the floor. I sat between Steve and Dustin with my knees pulled up against my chest.

I was trying to calm my panting down, trying to get my breathing to even out.

The second he sat down, Steve grabbed my hand and held it in his. Was this going to be how it ended, after everything we had just gone through culminating with Steve and I expressing that we liked each other...we were all going to die, together, behind the cookie place.

I kept my head pressed against the counter and squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my brother grab my other hand. I opened my eyes and looked to him, but he had his head down.

I could hear the men walking closer to us and I knew this was probably it for us. I was terrified.

Steve squeezed my hand and I looked over to him, his eyes were wide and fearful and I'm sure mine reflected that too. He brought our intertwined hands up and placed it on his chest, where his heart is.

He nodded once and I nodded back. A silent moment between us.

I looked over to Dustin and saw he was now staring straight ahead but he looked petrified with his eyes wide and mouth parted breathing heavily.

I squeezed his hand to get his attention.

"It'll be okay," I mouthed to him silently when he looked over.

He nodded and squeezed his eyes closed. I did the same and braved myself for whatever was was coming.

Then...an alarm was blaring.

I opened my eyes quickly, looking from Dustin to Steve but they both looked as confused as me.

There was a loud crash behind us that made me yell, but it was over in an instant. Steve was the first to make the move to turn and look over the counter with us quickly following suit.

First I saw the bodies of the Russians strewn across the floor of the food court. Then looking to the right I saw the red car that had been stationed in the mall this last week flipped on its side, it had been thrown into another food court store front.

"Holy shit," Dustin whispered.

Steve nudged my arm, I tore my eyes away from the car and looked to him, he was looking up to the second level of the mall, I followed his line of sight and saw them. The rest of the party and Nancy and Jonathan looking over the railing at us.

——

Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner!

#stever harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #netflix #dustin henderson

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the-jade-cross · 3 years

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The Art of Falling in Love - Chapter Two

Chapter 2 - Nurse Professor Marshall... uh oh!

Hey all! This is part two of my Cavillry Writing Challenge Story: The Art of Falling In love. Chances are there will be 5-7 chapters of this story;) Enjoy!

Echo jumped when Professor Marshall’s large, firm hand slammed a piece of paper down on her desk. She mentally swore when she dropped her pencil and had to fumble with it in order to not drop it on the ground. She looked at the paper to see that it was the homework assignment they had been sent home with the day before… 60%. Oh crap.

“I am assuming that the past week of formula and equation work has done nothing to improve your math standards,” Marshall growled.

Echo stared at the paper. She was never one to faint over a bad grade and her mother always told her that failing a test or assignment does not make you a failure. However, staring at the bold letters in bright red marker on the sheet of paper, Marshall breathing down over her petite seated form, she definitely felt like a failure.

Maybe it was the lack of lunch again that was making her brain tone out, but she honestly didn’t know what to do. She felt weak in the legs, her head was spinning, and her stomach hurt. On her way to drop Piper off at school, her younger sister had informed her that she had forgotten her lunch, so Echo provided her with her own lunch, feeling that Piper’s young, growing and energetic body needed the nutrition more than she did.

“Come up to the board Miss McKenna,” Marshall snapped, walking to the front of the classroom without even looking back at Echo. “Solve the problem.”

Echo fumbled with her things and closed her notebook and pencil so they wouldn’t role around and fall on the floor before weakly getting to her feet and walking blindly to the front of the room. She stared up at the problem. Oh crap! This was one of the problems she got wrong! Well, apparently either 3.14 is not pi or something else in Echo’s evaluation had gone wrong… that’s it! Narrow it down till she can figure out where she went wrong.

Grabbing a piece of chalk, she lifted it up and began to write when suddenly she realized something felt off…. Why was it so hard to write? Oh…. How did the chalk end up in her left hand? Her brain must really be gone! Apparently, Professor Marshall noticed this as well for he was considering the girl with a confused look glinting in his eyes. Echo quickly switched hands but as she began to write, the 3’s began to look like 8’s and the 4’s like 1’s…. wait… how can a 4 look like a 1?

Echo went to wipe her eyes, thinking that perhaps it would help but the moment her hand made contact with her face, everything went black. All she could remember was the scraping of chairs as several girls leapt to their feet in shock, screams and gasps running through the room and distinctly she heard Alice cry her name. She felt her legs finally give way and she waited for the contact of the hard floor on her back or even worse, possibly the corner of Professor Marshall’s desk on her head… it never happened.

A pair of warm, thick arms wrapped around her legs and the other cradled her head just before it would have made contact with the table. Warmth… it had been so long since Echo had felt this kind of warmth… the warmth of being engulfed in someone’s arms… now she knew why the twins loved it when she rocked them to sleep. This body heat was amazing, washing over her whole being and encasing her in a safe cocoon. Instinctively she leant into the warmth, realizing that the warmth was soft, large and firm but the arms around her body cushioned her and the warmth she pressed her face into was smooth.

Alice let out a breath of air in relief when Professor Marshall rose to his full height, Echo safely wrapped in his arms. No signs of blood so that meant that he caught her just before her body made contact with anything. The girl couldn’t help the smirk that crept its way onto her face at the way instead of just holding her in his arms, Professor Marshall had her held so close to him that her face was nestled in the crook of his neck.

“Class is dismissed,” Professor Marshall said with a surprisingly calm tone with very little venom in his tone.

The girls didn’t waste a second in leaping to their feet and clearing the room but not before Professor Marshall had strode out of the room with Echo in his arms. All the students walking briskly down the hallways stalled to stare at the tall, burly professor as he held the small girl in his arms, making Echo look like a little elementary girl in comparison to his huge stature.

“Walter!” a familiar, bright voice called, and Professor Marshall swore underneath his breath.

Of all days of the week, why did Professor Shaw decide to take a vacation and request Substitute Professor Brandon to come in? This was not the day that Marshall wanted to listen to Brandon rant about all the beautiful female professors (Which was only a minor 13% of the professors in the university). Not only that, Brandon was the only professor who did not seem to understand that Professor Marshall hated people calling him by his first name. Even Walt was better than his full first name.

Marshall knew though that Principle Cavill would be giving him an earful later if he hurt Brandon’s feelings and did not acknowledge the incredibly friendly, social professor. Professor Marshall turned with Echo still secure in his arms and Professor Brandon froze in his swift strides to stare wide eyed at the small girl in Marshall’s arms. Brandon might be a substitute teacher and only on campus when needed but he knew a thing or two about Professor Marshall the Vice (anything but Marshall’s sensitivity about his first name) and one of them was he knew that Marshall never made physical contact with anyone other than a handshake. Not even a hug, pat on the shoulder… nothing.

Now, seeing the huge bear-like professor holding a small female student in his arms so gently like she was a china doll but also securely like a mother bear with her cub, Professor Charles Brandon did not know what to think.

“Hey, isn’t that Solo’s top art student?” Brandon inquired, taking a step closer and tilting his head in an attempt to get a good look at Echo’s face which was partially hidden by her hair.

Marshall let out a growl which came out sounding like a rumble in his chest, holding Echo instinctively closer and shifting just enough so that her long strawberry blond hair flopped over her face more to hide it from the curious, prying eyes of Professor Brandon.

“She fainted. I’m taking her to the nurse’s office.” Marshall replied.

Brandon’s eyes widened, “Well that is bad timing.”

“Why?” Marshall asked, rather irritated that Brandon was taking up more of his time.

“Mrs. Bryant takes off around this time and does not come back until after lunch. This is around the time that the Nurse Aide workers are in.” Brandon stated, knowing that Marshall trusted people very poorly.

Brandon’s words struck a nerve and Marshall’s eyebrows knitted together. He did not want to put any of his students in anyone’s hands but Mrs. Bryant who had been the head nurse at the university for twenty years. All those NA students who were helping were either slacking or didn’t know the difference between a dislocated elbow and a broken bone… to be honest though, Marshall didn’t know the difference either.

Marshall sighed, knowing that Brandon wouldn’t have brought up Bryant’s absence if he didn’t have an ulterior motive. Marshall lifted Echo in his arms to gently move her limp head so that it was buried further into his neck, hiding her face from Brandon who had reached forward to push her hair aside to get a look at her.

“I’ll take care of it,” Marshall assured Brandon. “Don’t you have to drop by the library before your class?”

At once, Brandon stopped trying to sneak a peek at the mysterious fainted girl that Marshall had wrapped in his arms and a huge grin spread across the professor’s face at the prospect of seeing a certain attractive librarian. “I’ll see you later Walter.”

Despite being called his first name, Marshall allowed a miniscule smile to grace his lips as Brandon turned on his heel and practically sprinted like a fangirl down the hallway toward the library. Marshall glanced down at the girl in his arms and sighed. There was nothing else to do…

When Echo’s eyes slowly cracked open, she did not recognize her environment. A clean navy-blue ceiling and on the walls, very few photos or pictures. The walls were lined with books, but Echo noticed that most of them were spirals. Echo slowly went to sit up, only to spy the tall foreboding figure standing with his back to her, a large folder of homework in his hand and his phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he spoke.

“I know it is the student’s responsibility to inform us if they are to miss class but there is no avoiding it when the student is unconscious. Solo, Miss McKenna is out cold, and I do not know when she will wake up so unless she wakes up in the next two minutes and is ready to pay attention in your stupid art class then you are just going to have to deal with me breaking the news instead of her.” Marshall growled into the phone before letting out a string of curses under his breath which seemed to force Professor Solo to comply. “Thank you for being so understanding. Bye.”

Echo resisted the urge to chuckle at the sarcasm in Professor Marshall’s tone but found that her throat was dry, and her stomach still hurt from not eating lunch. Professor Marshall turned and lifted his blue eyes to notice that her big brown doe eyes were watching him.

“You’re awake,” he observed, setting down his work to grab something on his desk and walk over to her. “You were out for about fifteen minutes. Care to explain what happened?”

Echo shook her head, “I was just not feeling well… I apologize for causing you trouble.”

Professor Marshall sighed, “You do not usually pass out cold just because you are not feeling well. It had to have been something bad to make you faint in math class.”

‘It actually is not as hard as you think’ Echo thought to herself, ‘Just taking your class is enough to make one’s brains burst!’

“Why are you taking math anyway?” Marshall insisted, crouching next to the couch so as to be eye level with her. “Math is not a requirement for art students.”

“I am not studying art,” Echo replied.

Marshall frowned before standing up and sitting on the couch next to her, “You are not?”

Echo shook her head, “I am studying to be a certified Nurse Aide. Math was the only subject I had not completed for the diploma.”

Echo went to speak when her stomach had to choose that opportune moment to fight against her and growled loudly. Marshall lifted his eyes to hers, looking at her from beneath his long lashes and he smiled just faintly.

“So that’s it.” he said in a low voice.

Echo blushed crimson as Professor Marshall rose to his feet and grabbed something from his desk before returning to her side and holding out a wrapped sandwich.

“Eat,” he commanded.

“Is not this yours?” Echo inquired.

“I always bring extra for certain math students who find it a normal thing to forget their lunches,” Marshall told her.

Echo half expected him to have said it with sarcasm but there was surprising gentleness in his voice. Also… how did he know that this was not the first time she didn’t bring lunch?

The girl decided to obey and unwrapping the sandwich, began to eat it, only to find herself engrossed in the rich sandwich of leafy greens and meat. No mayo or dressings… interesting.

She jumped slightly when an ice-cold cloth came in contact with her head and she was surprised to hear Professor Marshall speak in a worried, gentle tone.

“I am sorry.”

He quickly retracted and finding that the cloth he had heated for her had gone cold, he got to his feet and went about warming the cloth back up. When he returned to her side, he knelt down and placed the now warm cloth over her forehead and Echo let out a sigh of contentment. Marshall froze in his actions and Echo lifted her head, thinking she had done something wrong only to find Professor Marshall staring at her with a surprised expression on his face which was something she had never seen.

After what seemed like forever, Professor Marshall drew away and returned to his work, keeping his back to Echo. When the girl finished eating, she moved the blankets from her lap only to find Professor Marshall standing over her, holding out his hands. Echo slipped her small hands into his much larger ones only to feel her hands being encased by pure warmth as he drew her to her feet.

Echo went to thank him when she realized how close they were standing. Of course, unlike in the movies their faces were not close but at least a foot apart due to their difference in height but Echo felt her eyes glued on his blue icy orbs. Marshall’s head was tipped toward her, letting several stray curls flop over his forehead and Echo was sure her brain was not the only organ of her body bursting at the sight. Echo found her mouth dry again and her lips instinctively parted which seemed to draw Marshall in, his eyes glued on her plump pink lips that were partially moist from her licking them and he swore in his head when she bit down on her bottom lip in nervousness. He quickly released her hands and took a full step back before turning back to his work. Echo snapped out of her other reality into the real reality and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Marshall inquired sternly, his old self back.

“Professor Solo will be disappointed if I do not show up to class,” Echo told him. “Thank you, professor,… I am sorry I caused you trouble.” Professor Marshall went to tell her that she was no trouble, but the girl had exited and closed the door behind her. The moment she was gone, Marshall approached the door and touched it… why did his heart break when she closed the door on him? Sighing, he pressed his forehead to the door. When she had sighed at the touch of the hot cloth on her face, Marshall had felt his face heat up and his heart had pounded in his chest faster than it ever had before. He wondered what she sounded like if she was cornered by him like a kitten cornered by a dog. Would she mewl or would she hiss? He groaned and slapped the door with his hand, startling poor Professor Kent who had just been about to knock on Marshall’s office door but upon being startled out of his life by the sound, Kent decided it was best to leave the bear to whatever agony he was dealing with.

Marshall turned around and went to sit down at his desk chair when he noticed the pillow and blankets, he had wrapped Echo in, tucking the ends around her like a nest and adjusting the pillow at least four times before he was satisfied that she would not get a neck cramp. Now, the three blankets and pillow were neatly folded and sitting at the end of the sofa in his office.

Sighing, he sunk down on the sofa before picking up one of the blankets and pressing it to his nose. His sharp senses picked up the faint smell of vanilla and nutmeg and he found himself sighing. What was this girl doing to him?

*************

“Legs up ladies!” Coach Sy bellowed, making the earth rumble with his voice.

Professor Marshall had to grip Professor Kent’s shoulder to steady the poor man who had been so engrossed in his homework grading that he was not prepared when the bleachers shook from the coach’s bellow.

“Remind me again how you always convince me to come out here to do evening grading?” Marshall demanded of Professor Kent.

Clark smiled at Marshall and patted him on the shoulder, “Because we are childhood friends Walt, and you know that if I was out here alone, I would end up in the nurse’s office every day.”

“Why pray tell? Because you would pass out from crying so much due to my absence or you would get a football through the face?” Marshall teased sarcastically.

Kent went to reply when a girl’s scream caught their attention immediately. Marshall looked to the field, waiting to see Coach Sy rushing to whichever girl was in trouble… but there was no sign of Syverson. Jumping to his feet, Marshall rushed down to the field and the crowd of girls parted to reveal Coach Sy on the ground, his eyes closed and sweat coating his face.

“He just fell down!” One of the girls cried.

Marshall got to his feet and touched Syverson’s head. It was hot and he was breathing heavily. Grabbing Sy’s warm, he looped it around his neck and lifted the large burly man up with some difficulty before walking toward the building.

“Kent!” he bellowed, shaking the bleachers again. “Get the girls inside. I am taking him to the nurse’s office!” ‘And this time I will not be taking a detour to my office’ he thought to himself.

When Marshall reached the nurse’s office, he was delighted to fight the hallway free of students so he didn’t have to worry about having people throw questions at him but that meant there was no one to open the office door so he attempted to balance Coach Sy with one arm while grabbing the handle but that failed when suddenly the door opened and there stood Echo.

Marshall went to ask her if she was alright, thinking she was there because of another fainting spell, only to catch sight of the navy-blue scrubs she wore, the analog watch in her wrist and her hair pinned back from her face.

“Miss McKenna?” he inquired.

“Coach Sy!” McKenna cried, rushing forward to help Marshall support the burly coach.

Marshall was rather perturbed that Echo did not acknowledge him or answer him but then he remembered his mission when Coach Sy let out a distressed groan as the two laid him down on one of the hospital beds.

“What happened?” Echo asked in a surprisingly calm tone, startling Marshall since she didn’t scream, cry or rush around like any other girl would.

“He just fell down,” Marshall explained as Echo touched Sy’s forehead then lifted his chin back and listened for his breathing.

“It’s heatstroke,” Echo said finally. “He is the fifth today. This heat is hitting everyone really hard. We need to wrap him in ice to cool him down.”

Marshall watched as the girl went to a cabinet and drew out a large human bag. She then turned to Marshall.

“I need your help,” she explained.

Immediately Marshall obeyed and helped her slip Coach Sy into the plastic bag before helping her shovel ice into the pockets of the bag to cool Sy’s body temperature down. When they were done, Echo zipped up the bag and went about attaching an IV drip to coach Sy’s arm to offer him hydration. Marshall watched her constantly as she worked gently and efficiently, always stopping to make sure Sy was comfortable.

When she was done, she took a seat next to the bed where Sy lay and began to administer cool cloths to Sy’s forehead. Marshall never took his eyes off her as she worked steadily. He felt a deep twist in his stomach every time Echo’s hands came in contact with Sy’s forehead. He wanted her so badly to touch him… but why was it that whenever he moved to touch someone he couldn’t? Like he couldn’t cross the bridge? Why was it that whenever he touched her was it always a necessity? Like having to carry her to his office and helping her to her feet? Why couldn’t he bring himself to touch her for no reason at all… just for the sake of touching her?

The reason Marshall could never really directly touch people in general other than a required handshake was because as a child, his mother was single and never held him… never kissed or hugged him… he became cold and whenever he did try to touch someone… they would disappear. He had no assurance that if he touched Echo she would not disappear.

“I did not know that you worked shifts here,” Marshall observed when the two of them fell silent while waiting for Sy to wake.

Echo shrugged, “Luckily the hours I work are not incredibly busy, so I have time to study while I am working.”

Marshall glanced around the room and sure enough, on the nurse’s desk were her math textbooks, notes, spiral and pencils. Marshall suddenly felt a deep pain of guilt, knowing that he hadn’t made it any easier for her by pestering her every day in class.

“Why did you choose to change your major?” Marshall inquired.

“I am not the first student who has changed their major,” Echo observed.

Marshall frowned which made Echo hang her head, embarrassed for talking back.

“I mean, why did you give up your dream major to study nursing?” Marshall insisted.

Echo sighed, “It is not that I do not like nursing… I guess my interests changed.”

Professor Marshall considered the girl steadily. He found her answer very hard to believe. Being friends (By default, not by choice) with all the other professors, Marshall heard about all the prime and favorite students and of course, Professor Solo never failed to rant about his prize student: Miss Echo McKenna. When Marshall learnt that Echo would be in his math class, his first thought was that perhaps she was taking the class because she needed the extra credits but from what Rachel and Solo told him, that was the least of Echo’s worries since she had above required credits every semester.

“But why are you working hours here?” Marshall inquired. “if I remember correctly, your sister was working here. You should be concentrating on your studies.”

Echo had the deep desire to point out that she was concentrating on her studies and that she had no choice but to take Amazon’s shifts but then she remembered that the professor did not know about that and the kindness in his tone indicated that he was just concerned about her… or was he just concerned about her studies? Probably the latter.

“I try professor,” Echo replied in a quiet voice before rising to her feet and going to pour a glass of water.

When she returned, coach Sy had woken up and was blinking around him in confusion.

“You had heat stroke,” Marshall explained. “You are in the nurse’s office.”

Sy nodded but grumbled something about ‘being the worst time to be a sissy and faint’. Marshall smiled softly to himself at Sy’s sarcastic personality. Echo returned and helping Sy sit up, she held the cup of water while he drank. When he finished, Echo touched his forehead to check and smiled.

“You are cooling down. You’ll be ready to go if you stay in the ice for another twenty minutes and then rest for an hour. No outside work for you today,” Echo told him gently.

“You forget Miss McKenna,” Sy grumbled. “it is my job to teach sports.”

“And you forget coach that there is something called an indoor gym,” Echo said, planting her hands on her hips and speaking in a firm, commanding tone. “And as your NA, you have to take your health into consideration.”

Both professor Marshall and coach Sy stared at the girl in shock and Marshall fought the urge to smirk at Echo’s bossy mother tone but then went to scold the girl for speaking rudely to the coach when Sy let out a chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be. Now I know why Bryant wanted you to work here. I’ll work indoors Miss McKenna but only for today,” Sy complied with an amused smile.

Echo smiled and nodded her head, “Fair enough, but if you work outside, be sure to not stay in the bright sun too long and drink plenty of water.”

Coach Sy nodded and leant back to enjoy the cold compress wrapped around his whole body. Marshall stared at the coach in surprise but also felt a jab of annoyance at the smile that Echo had reserved for the stubborn coach.

Just then, the door of the nurse’s office opens and in walks Mrs. Bryant. She takes one look at the coach, professor and Echo before smiling.

“Thank you for taking the shift Echo,” Mrs. Bryant said kindly. “You are free to go now.” Echo smiled before removing her scrubs that topped her jeans and t-shirt before grabbing her backpack and making for the door. “See you tomorrow Mrs. Bryant.”

The girl left but not before smiling and waving to Sy and Marshall, closing the door behind her.

“That girl should not be wasting her life working,” Coach Sy observed. “She has the makings of a mother.”

Marshall smiled but his eyes glared at Sy warningly even though Sy wasn’t even looking his way. Mrs. Bryant chuckled. “I whole heartedly agree but it seems she already has that taken care of.”

Marshall snapped his head in her direction, his heart plummeting, “She is dating?”

Mrs. Bryant shook her head, “Echo has never dated a day in her life. I mean, she was left to raise her younger sister after her parents died and when her sister Amazon gave birth to twins, Echo took up responsibility for the twins when Amazon refused to.”

Coach Sy snorted. “Isn’t Amazon the student that Professor Holmes has been complaining about? Missing all her classes and not even turning half her assignments in?”

Mrs. Bryant nodded, “She has also been skipping work and I called Echo to tell her that Amazon would be fired if she did not attend shifts more regularly, so Echo offered to take Amazon’s place. Honestly, Amazon is spoiled because she has such an innocent, generous sister. She never cares for her own children and the twins are more Echo’s children now than Amazon’s. The girl even drives her little sister to school every day and back home. It is a miracle Echo is not failing her courses.”

Marshall frowned. Maybe that was why it was so hard for Echo to improve in her math. Slowly rising to his feet, he excused himself before stepping out of the nurse’s office. When he was sure there was not a single student or curious professor within earshot, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

It buzzed twice before it was answered, and a bright voice came on. “Hey! Marsh old man! What are you up to? Not bursting any students’ brains are ya? Oh wait… you teach at that all girl’s school, don’t you? Please tell me you haven’t burst any ovaries plus the brains… chances are the girls are too scared of you… so what can I do for you?”

Marshall sighed when his friend finally decided to stop ranting happily. “I need you to look into something for me.”

“Sure thing! Person, place or thing?” the person inquired.

“Person. The name is Amazon McKenna. She is a student at West Bridge University. Early twenties.”

“Okey dokey,” the other voice muttered after a moment. “What exactly do you want me to look into?”

“She has been skipping classes and work and laying all the work on her younger sister. Find out what she is doing. Check her social media, activity, is she into drugs or alcohol, suicidal, anxiety attacks. I want everything that could be a possible answer to her behavior,” Marshall said firmly.

The person on the other side was quiet as he wrote down the information. “Quick question Marsh. Are you curious about the girl because you have a thing for her or is it the younger sister that you have a thing for? Or is this just your detective side shining through?”

“I am a professor. I do not have a detective side,” Marshall huffed.

The other person chuckled. “Sure, sure, whatever. I’ll look into the girl. I will call you if I find anything. Give me a week at the most.”

Marshall nodded, “Thank you. I’ll talk to you later Ethan.”

With that, he hung up.

Tags:

@poledancingdinos

@two-unbeatable-beaters

@oh-for-fic-sake

@geek-eat-repeat

@littlefreya

@killjoy-assbutt-1112

@lunedelorient

@imneonpanda

#Henry Cavill x oc #Walter marshall #Walter Marshall x oc #cavillry school writing challenge

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roses-ruby · 5 years

Text

Come home to me...Darling

Jimin x Female Reader

Ao3 Link

Part 1 of 2 (Part 2)

Genre: Cheating!AU, angst, soft vanilla smut , fluff

Warnings: Sex, Infidelity, Cursing, Sad

Word Count: 22,677

Summary: Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

A/N: YAAASSSSS, I’m done. This was originally supposed to be a one shot,,,but :),,,my brain,,,and hands,,,:),,,never know when to stop. My planning consisted of ‘Oh I could add this here’ or ‘Oh I could type more to this part’ and here we are 20k words later. Also plz let me know what you think.🥺 I need gratification babes🥺 Anyway, enjoy!

It was subtle really. Blink once and you’d miss it.

The first time Jimin cheated on you was two years into your marriage. An older lady, Jessica something – beautiful and elegant. You remember her as one of Jimin’s college professors, an intelligent woman who loved France and fine things. Running into her at a charity gala caught him by surprise, he seemed to forget your existence for the half hour they spent conversing. You couldn’t blame him, you were never the most interesting person, and she had all the wits on her side. Consequently, finding a text on his phone two weeks later that read ‘Last night was amazing, but it can’t happen again…’ caught you by surprise. He took a long relaxing shower as you gripped his left open phone and wept in your shared bedroom. After what felt like hours; he came out, wet hair sleeked back, a towel loosely hanging on his hips and gave you a tiny peck as you set up dinner.

It took you so long to recover. Softly becoming withdrawn and half of a living shell. Yet he continued to torture you with his endearing smile, his cheesy dialogues, and piercing stares until the memory faded away; the gala, the meeting, the text. Soon you were in his arms again, making sweet love to your first love. Drowning out the images of the text, convincing yourself you misunderstood, as you always do. Jimin is a difficult man to figure out after all. Even if it did happen, it’s over now – Jimin stayed with you and that’s what counts. Anyone else would have left your miserable self years ago, no?

And in the end that became your truth, no matter how hard your conscious tried to tell you otherwise when you laid awake in the middle of the night. But you wanted to save your marriage, so you left no stone unturned. You sank any rational thoughts and feelings – pushing them deep inside a hidden vault – never to float above the thin striped surface of your happiness. As long as Jimin comes home to you.

You never spoke of it.

The second time he was unfaithful was with his so-called best friend Mina about a year and a half later. His age, long curly hair and doe eyes – she was one of the guys. Preferring sweatpants over skirts and gaming over the salon, she easily befriended Jimin with similar interests. She was so different from you, so youthful and quirky. It happened repeatedly; with someone he’s known for so long…someone who knows you exist – and how much you love him. Dread settles in your stomach like a rock, as you thought this might be it, he’ll be taken away from you this time. And even though he came home every time, it still hurt more and more. How could you let this happen again? Why were you never good enough? Getting to the point where you could no longer tolerate the heartache you hesitantly confronted him about it one day. After he missed your anniversary date and came home with messy hair, ruffled clothes and a hint of a love bite, of course. No way for anyone to deny that…even if you tried.

Jimin came back to you a mess. He was careless. It was 5 in the morning and half the city was deep asleep. Holding you in a smothering back hug he cried and cried and cried. Rushed apologies fell from his lips as he soaked the back of your night dress with tears. Turning to face him, you cupped his jaw, wiping away the tears occupying his cheeks. Any curses you might have wanted to say to him fell away into the void, as you gently give him a hug. He’s trembling through his cries as he holds you back tighter than ever. Closing your own damp eyes, you try to calm your loud heart with his scent.

You look into the windows of his soul – he looks lost – scared almost, just like a little boy. Not the man you’ve grown accustomed to. Yet you wait for a response, opening your ears for him to repent, to apologize. Because that’s who Park Jimin is – he wouldn’t hurt anyone like this. This isn’t him.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry…*hic* I-It didn’t mean an-anything *hic*,” He barely made out a sentence

“Do you…love her?” You cringe as soon as you word out love. Never in your life had you been more afraid than in that moment, waiting for his response. Which took him a minute as he faced away from you, clenching his eyes shut. Trying to drown out the expression of agony on your face – all because of him.

“I…” Jimin opens his eyes, looking at the marbled floor of your cold apartment “It’s not that”

“Then why” You choke out, tears making their way down your face again and you grimace in embarrassment

“…I don’t know…I just-”

“Do you love me?”

You interrupt him, and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes. The shocked expression on his face morphs into pain; his silence becomes his answer.

Losing strength in your knees, you fall onto the floor wailing. Jimin’s quick on his feet and bends to your shaking torso. Tentative at first, he takes a second before he wraps his arms around you. You can feel him crying along – his tears soaking the skin of your cheek.

“I do!” He shouts making you jump in his arms “I do! I love you, I love you, I love you”

It was as if he was chanting to himself. Trying to persuade himself that he does, like he desired persuasion more than anything in that moment. But you were too blind to see it.

You hold onto him tightly, needing to feel his warmth through your freezing skin. Sniffles and hiccups fall through your mouth, and you have difficulty controlling your breath. Jimin’s never seen you cry like this; the last time might’ve been when you spoke about your mom 3 years ago. Telling him all the pain she’s put you through which made is blood boil. Now he’s the one responsible for every tear – every whimper that left you, he’s responsible for your broken state.

“I thought I lost you, that you weren’t coming back. That you would leave me for her”

“I’m glad you’re home, *sniff* Jimin…please always come home,” You speak through tears, your worthless body selfishly clinging onto his addictive heat, “…please don’t leave me”

“I won’t”

He pulls away from you. You see the tears staining his face, and you move your fingers to wipe them. To make him your perfect man again.

“I’m sorry …sorry…” he whispers, cutting through the calm of the bright room.

You look out the window of the colorless sky. The rain smacks against the glass in scolding, holding you awake in your otherwise inert body.

“I’ve never liked this place Jimin…let’s move away from here…let’s start over…Okay?

The look in your eye is so sincere – so desperate and Jimin can’t tell you no. He gives you a quick ‘Okay’ and you’re in each other’s arms again. Both searching for the missing sun on that stormy night.

Usually, after such a dramatic scene there’s a huge happy ending where every character gets some form of sedation and contentment. But sadly, that could never be the case with you. It had been three years since you both moved into the big city. Leaving your past behind is in no way easy, but you would have gone to the world’s end for Jimin. Besides, it wasn’t like you had much to stay for. All you’ve ever had was Jimin. It took a lot of love and patience, but these three years you felt your relationship grew stronger; better. That’s what you liked to believe.

You’d been married for six years now. Six wonderful years since he walked up to you one spring day in college, told you the professor had made you partners and gave you a smile you’d think only angels would be capable of. Not that you’d admit it, but you fell in love right in that moment between his ethereal features and the blossoms that danced in the wind outside the large window you sat next to. You knew about him, he was quite famous on campus. Park Jimin, the ladies’ man – someone who drove even men crazy – trapped on his presence. Everyone raved about Jimin, he was a topic in every third person’s conversation. A beautiful and charming man. It was a world far different from yours.

You grew up reserved and introverted. Growing up, you never had someone to call a friend. In elementary school, when kids were becoming socially productive and playing tag at recess, you were stiff and late to respond to any of your quick-witted classmates. In middle school, amongst blue eye shadow and girl’s getting their first piercings, you managed to win the science bowl and always had your head buried in a book.

Highschool came around and hormones ran amok, making all and sundry aggressive towards the other. Aside from a snide comment and a snicker directed at you, you never really had any run-ins with bullies. You blended in with the shadows, and no one knew or cared for your presence. Similarly, at home your mom was never around, but there were some lucky dates once every blue moon she’d have dinner with you. It would be something you made, you took refuge in your kitchen often and it brought you peace of mind. Even then, all she cared about was if you were keeping up your grades. And still, everyday you’d spend hours waiting on her to come home without her insight. She seldom did.

Throughout your years, you tried to understand her. Her husband, your dad, left her when she was 8th months pregnant with you. She was a career woman, and in a sense, you were her biggest misfortune. The cause of him abandoning her, the cause of her hitting the brake on her career. So, you never complained; manage to drown out the child begging for affection inside of you. Even when she couldn’t make it to your graduation ceremony, where you gave the valedictorian speech. Actually, you were glad she didn’t come, you weren’t the best at speeches and even some teachers were yawning as you spoke on the podium that day. It was dreadful, you stayed up all night to write those words, and no one gave it a second thought. Since then you preferred it, staying a meek secondary character.

Jimin was salutatorian of his own high school. He joked about how his homeroom teacher cried and made a big fuss the day he graduated. His parents were so proud of him, and he shed many tears saying farewells to his friends and colleagues. How embarrassing his speech was, how everyone laughed at his little mistakes. But you knew, the laughs directed around Jimin could never be malicious.

You smiled looking through his photo album in his college dorm, seeing Park Jimin look so happy through the plastic covers of the pictures. His head was on your lap and he held your waist by his arm, wanting nothing more but to be close to you. Glancing at him then back at the album made you realize, however, that a camera couldn’t capture the true exquisiteness of the way he stretches his lips or how polished his crescent eyes would actually become. Park Jimin was an unexplainable beauty and he graced your stiff-as-a-stick figure with his company, making alarms in your head flare at his honey scent.

You wish he could look that happy now.

The amorous twinkle in his eyes, one to make you smile for days, had fallen some time ago. No longer was his laughter in sync with yours, no longer did he caress you so softly when you fell deep into your subconscious – worried about whatever seems so trivial at this instant. His eyes focused more on his phone’s screen and his sweetly whispered confessions, just for you; a legend of the past.

Sitting across from him on the table, you watch as his figure, lost in his tiny mechanical device, smirks for the nth time. His long fingers drop the fork in his other hand, as he begins clacking at his screen, a hint of pink on the highs of his cheeks.

“Something funny?” You question, casually taking a bite of your ratatouille after

“Hm, what?” He looks up, a bit startled to see you in front of him. He completely forgot about your company, when you were just a foot away.

“Your phone,” You point at the man who seems a bit embarrassed – a bit afraid, “Want to share what’s going on”

It was a question you didn’t want a yes to.

“Nothing,” He waves his hand dismissively, “Jin’s just being an idiot”

He puts his phone face down by his plate, suddenly more interested in dinner. You watch carefully as he takes his first bite, a tiny portion of the sauce caught on his chin.

“How is it?” You question nervously

“Hmm, it’s nice” He says. Not bothering to look up, disregarding your presence yet again as he quickly tries to stuff the food down his throat

“O-oh, I’m glad”

It was his favorite dish. A night of a Disney film had made him enraptured with it, so much so that you made fun of him for tearing up at the end. The next day you had made him an exact replica of the dish, the perfectionist in you pinpointing it to an idealism only the original animator of the film could reach. And it was worth it, when his face lit up, when he exaggerated the taste through his facial expressions, when he gave you a million and one kisses that night. It was all worth it. One of your most fond memories. You came home early today and spent the whole day recreating it, taking time off from your busy schedule – leaving your job to slave in the kitchen. Even making homemade baguette, which he didn’t even touch.

Hopeful that he’d return your efforts with gratitude, with laughter…with a kiss.

You wake up out of your thoughts when his chair screeches,

“Thanks for the food,” He smiles, picking up his phone and walking away, into your shared bedroom.

You were a slow eater, you weren’t surprised he left. But you recall the days he used to stay, watching you stuff your face even after he was done with his meal. It always made you complain, and he’d just laugh, telling you how cute you were when you ate. How he couldn’t get enough of that image. Oh, how is words made you blush in those days.

“They’re beautiful,” You sigh, holding your jaw with your palm and looking into the vast distance. In front of you laid thousands of blue bonnets, neatly apprehended by the fancy garden Jimin had brought you to.

“They’re nothing compared to you,” A sweet voice comes from behind you, instantly flustering you in your frilly overdressed toes.

You blush and turn away from the voice, who just laughs at your actions. God, you loved that laugh. It was airy, filled with spring’s purity. The floral winds pick up slightly in front of the balcony and you rub your arms to fight the chill. “Oh, baby,” He coos, encasing you in his arms and placing his head on your shoulder.

“Didn’t know late April could be this chilly,” mumbling, he peppers kisses into your neck. You let your head roll back onto him and part your lips.

The sun was starting to set, and the sky exhibited pink and peach splotches. You wanted to live like this forever; watching the world pass by in his arms. He had been yours for a year now, an unbelievable, amazing, loving, long year. It was dreamlike – Jimin’s eyes, his smile, his scent, his love. Sometimes you thought you would suddenly wake up and be alone in your bed again. That this fantasy would shatter and wouldn’t leave a trace of any shards.

He feels you stiffening in his arms and moves his head off your shoulder to look at you

“What’s wrong”

“I’m just thinking again,” you sigh, not making eye contact with him

“All you need to think about is me,” He pouts making you giggle

“I am thinking about you silly”

“So, you’re thinking bad things about me?”

You gasp dramatically, “I would never”

He starts poking your sides – still tightly holding you in place with one of his arms wrapped around your waist

“Then what, huh?” He questions in a mocking tone as you struggle and laugh in his grasp, “What were you thinking about me?”

“Oh haha – Sto – hahahah Jimin!” You finally grab onto his wrist. Catching your breath, you turn your face to him,

“I was thinking about how much I love you. And how I don’t want to be alone again”

Jimin’s smile disappears as he loosens his hold on you. You take the opportunity to twirl around and look him in his captivating doll eyes, “I don’t want to sleep alone ever again. My bed’s too cold”

He cups your face and searches for something in your eyes with his brows furrowed. You wonder if he found what he was looking for, but you wouldn’t know, the expression didn’t last long before he brought his million-dollar smile back.

“You won’t, I’ll always warm it up” He responds taming your wild heart, making you lean your face into his palm and close your eyes. You feel his lips on yours and you kiss him back with twice the fervor. Your tongues dance in the sunset as he trails the back of his index and middle finger down your back. His hand rests on your hips and he parts from you.

“I’ll also have no problem warming up my baby” He gives you a cocky smirk, letting his breath fan your face. You, like clockwork, turn crimson and struggle to maintain eye contact. Jimin lets out another airy laugh which makes you pucker.

“You’re mean,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. Again, he sits his head on your shoulder as your bodies mold together and block the spring breezes.

In bliss you close your eyes and breathe in the honey that symbolizes Jimin. Your lips were still wet, carrying his essence and drawing you in further. If this is a dream, you will make the most you could with it. You would make the most you could with Jimin. The smile on your face threatens to rip through your cheeks – but you couldn’t care less about the pain.

Opposite from you was Jimin, staring into the abyss of blue bonnets. But he didn’t encase a smile on his features this time – no. Instead his eyes were emotionless, his face expressionless as he leisurely patted your back in comfort through your embrace. There were no flowers in his vision, no scents in his senses, no winds near his skin. All he could do was watch that sun set, turn the once unadulterated horizon dark and bleary.

Spring had left his mind long ago.

Count your blessings they say.

Jimin woke up by the smell of pancakes. With his eyes shut, he took a few sniffs of the pleasant smell wafting through the bedroom. He opened his eyes when the door banged open,

“You’re up,” You smile, holding a tray of pancakes and glasses with orange juice.

He smiles and sits up, “Good morning”

“Good morning to you,” you reply setting down the tray in front of him and taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. His bed hair was making half of his bangs stick upwards off his forehead making you snort.

“Aww, babe,” He gasps at the food in front of him, sleepy eyes going wide, “You shouldn’t have!”

You giggle at him being so dramatic as you pick up a fork and cut off an edge of the pancake. Bringing it up to his face, he opens his mouth comically and you laugh again as he takes ahold of your wrist and shoves the bite into his mouth. He’d been leaving for work early and coming back late for the last three months, so you took the opportunity to wake up 2 hours before he leaves, just so you could catch him in bed with breakfast.

“My turn,” He says with a mouthful. Cutting up a large bite of his own, he puts it in front of your lips, “Ahhh~”

You mimic his words and open your mouth, laughs leaving you as Jimin tries to make it all fit.

“Is it good?” You ask him after you swallowed your piece, the juice having to help you along the way resting in your palm

“Of course, everything you make is so delicious,” He smirks, licking his lips seductively. Jimin throws his head back and laughs when you blush and avert your gaze

“Six years and you haven’t changed” Laughing, he grabs another bite of the fluffy cakes with his fork and you smile.

‘You have, though’ is what you want to say staring at him cheerily munch on his breakfast, but instead you choose to swallow down your words with another gulp of your juice.

“So, I’m still your sweet little kitten?” You question with a suggestive grin on your lips

He looks up at you and squints his eyes, “You want to be a kitten?” He asks, tilting his head to the side

There’s a sudden mix of embarrassment and confusion that rushes up your spine at his completely clueless expression, making you feel disoriented. “T-that’s…you used to call me kitten in college,” You reply, like it was the most obvious thing. Like it was something special.

His face finally lights up in recognition, “You remember that? Oh, honey that was forever ago,” He continues to focus on his pancakes, slightly chuckling at you

It was stupid really. Back in the days Jimin had countless other girls he flirted with, but he never called them anything but their birth name. So, you let kitten make you feel superior because he only ever gave you a nickname. Only you. And strangely, it also gave you a sense of belonging…to him. The first time he called you that, was the day Jimin had actually asked you to become his girlfriend. It was something you never expected even in your wildest dreams, you even remember the color underwear you wore that day. He used to say it was one of his warmest memories.

However, he seemed to be forgetting quite a lot about the past…your shared past. Almost as if he didn’t…You force yourself to snap out of it, the Jimin stuffing his face once again becoming visible to you. Shame fills you for thinking such terrible things about your husband. You weren’t an actual pet, you shouldn’t feel even slightly offended at his passive remark. There was something wrong with you…you needed to live in the now, with the Jimin that seemed so content in the moment. Forget the past already, you scold yourself, you left it behind for a reason.

It had been awhile but you were glad he was so happy. That you were making him so happy.

“Jimin,” You say delicately at the man putting on his dress shirt

“Hmm?” He turns around, making you nervous at the eye contact

“I’m going to be home early tonight; do you want to go out for dinner by the river?”

“Sorry,” He smiles, “I’m working late tonight”

“Oh” you say, not meaning to look so obviously dejected

“I’m sorry babe,” He comes towards you who’s standing by the bedside, your shoulders slumped in disappointment. Giving you a hug, he tells you about this stupid assignment his boss put him and his team on, how he’d rather spend time with you. That’s all it takes for you to melt into him and forget all about your discontentment. It’s been weeks since he last touched you, even gave you a moment in time to provide you with an explanation for his absence. You missed his warmth so much.

“It’s alright, I’ll finish up some overtime,” You tell him as he goes back to dressing himself up, tightening his silver Rolex on his wrist. You wonder if he heard you since he didn’t respond and left the room without a word.

Evening rolled around rather quickly that day, the sun rapidly making its way underneath the horizon. You were finishing up some last-minute touches on your report. Originally, it’d take someone 3 hours to finish this, but you finished it in half an hour. Sighing, you conclude you should just head home. Your couch was way more comfortable than this office chair, so might as well just wait for Jimin to get home again. He had told you not to disturb him at his work place unless you had a good reason to, and sadly you were out of excuses to go see him. Even if he was late, maybe tonight you both could catch up that show he loved or maybe he’d in the mood for something more intimate? It had been a while after all. Smiling to yourself you get up and make your way to your secretary.

“I’m done for the day Yura, you can go home if you’d like”

“Oh, thank you ma’am” She says smiling at you as you grab your coat. “Ma’am, did you get a chance to look at the new hires information I left on your desk”

“I didn’t yet, this board meeting is taking up most of my mind, I’ll take a look tomorrow” You reply, walking toward the glass doors leading to the elevators.

“Ma’am!” Your secretary of two years shouts when you’re about to open the door. She appears hesitant as you eye her with a questioning look, staring at the ground with furrowed brows. Shuffling on her feet, she tightens her closed fist making you concerned. There seemed to be something weighing her down.

She was a kind and bright girl, ready to do whatever you said. Sometimes you conjectured if she knew you a bit too well; as she would knock with coffee in her hand even before you had asked, or immediately made phone calls on your behalf the days the stress became too much for you. When she first joined your company, there was something about her eyes that reminded you of your childhood days. It made you secretly dote on her and promote her from her dull cubicle. Though, you weren’t the best at social cues. Each time you had a conversation with her, it would be directed back to work, even if you just wanted to have a casual lunch with her. You hated having social anxiety to the point of being afraid of your own secretary. Because of that, you never really knew anything about her, or any of the people you ever worked with. Other than a few names and birthdays. Just like high school, you had no one to call a friend.

Jimin, on the other hand, was the popular coworker. He had his colleagues wrapped around his fingers, they would be at his beck and call even on the weekends. It was magical really, it wasn’t like Jimin was anyone’s boss – more of a group leader and that somehow made him even more popular. Envy would overcome you, watching Jimin easily converse with someone he’d just met like he knew them for years. Both of Jimin and of the person who has your husband’s attention. That’s just how it was with Jimin, he knew what to say and when to say it. Not like you.

Even now, when you’re genuinely worried about the mysterious young woman, you don’t know how to correctly state your concern,

“Is everything alright, Yura?”

Seemingly snapping out of her thoughts, she gives you a wide-eyed glance,

“Umm…Yes! Everything’s fine. Umm…Please take an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain tonight…” She says before you watch her scurry off back to her desk

Thanks to Yura, you now had an excuse to see Jimin. Parking into the back lot of Jimin’s work place you grab the pizza you bought him and his team from his favorite restaurant, as well as an umbrella. You wanted to scold him because you always warned him to be careful and stay prepared, but instead he’d joke about how much of an organized worrywart you were. What if he were to get sick in the rain? His boss would kill him judging by how relentlessly he makes Jimin work. Taking a glimpse at the thundering sky, you rush inside the warm building to take the lift.

Broken.

Sighing you walk toward the stairs. Jimin’s office was on the 15th floor. Holding onto his pizza tight, you haste along the stairs, eagerly waiting to see his face. He’s probably so tired and knowing him he probably hasn’t eaten yet. You wonder if he’s even hydrated, you knew how hard Jimin could be on himself. Six years of marriage made you watch an insecure young man develop into a hard-working adult, who pushes his limits far too much for your liking. As you passed every floor, you could feel your knees become weak and a hint of sweat build along your forehead as your arms felt mildly sore from the edges of the pizza box. Breathing hard with each step, you worriedly hoped your make up was okay. You had redone your face in the bathroom of your building, wanting to please Jimin with your looks. Finally, you made it to the 15th floor, and walked into the hallway, trudging towards Jimin’s office on your tired feet.

Maybe you should’ve went home. Spend another cold night eating ramen in your kitchen. Watched the rain pour down in your empty apartment. Maybe you should’ve made something yourself, taken protection behind cooking like you did when life got lonely. Stayed up waiting for him in the afterhours again. Then maybe, just maybe your relationship wouldn’t have taken such a drastic turn. Maybe you could’ve stayed ignorantly blissful, with your gratified marriage of six years. Content with the fact that no matter how late, Jimin still managed to come home to you. You could’ve have continued to wordlessly live with that.

Whatever you could have done, you shouldn’t have come.

When you notice how silent it is on his floor, slight confusion fills you. Wasn’t his team supposed to be here working on an assignment? It felt like everyone had gone home already. As you reach his door, you freeze. The lights inside his office are so dim, they’re almost out. Has he gone home by now? You’re about to turn away when you hear a muffled noise from inside the room. Relief washes over you to know he’s still here, and you nudge the door open with your right arm.

You shouldn’t have come.

As soon as the door opens, the muffled voices are no longer stifled. Instead they come washing over you one after the other like the outside thunder…the moans that is.

You suck in a breath as you hear the all too familiar grunts and groans of your husband, and a feminine voice calling out to him

“Ji-Jimin – ah – Sir” the voice whines as a slapping sound become apparent in the air. They were easy to spot. Hiding behind a large plant next to his desk, you identify your husband holding someone against the large pillar in his room. Her body completely molded into his, and her long legs wrapped around his torso – tightly holding him close. Even through the leaves of the large plant, you could see his bulging muscles straining as he held onto her petite figure. You recognized her long blonde hair, it was the secretary he hired three months ago – the really sweet one who always gave you a bright smiled. Tina. It was such a strange feeling; standing there, watching your husband fuck into someone else up against the wall. You felt like an intruder.

The blinds of his window were shut, which almost makes you scoff out loud. But you tremble instead, looking down at the pizza in your arms. Amid your shaking, you hear the sound of tongues smacking together. When you look back up, you see him kiss her passionately, as she moans into his mouth. “Kitten,” You hear him growl. That’s when you had enough. Quickly you move away from the door as it wordlessly shut in front of you. The scene before you had gone from your eyes but was ingrained in your mind. It’s as if them having sex was seared inside your pupils. It takes you a moment to gather yourself, and before you know it, you’re sprinting into the stair case. The adrenaline making your flight downstairs easy as you carry the pizza box and umbrella out of the building.

It’s raining.

You navigate through the heavy rain to find your car, which was abruptly more difficult in the sudden darkness. When you reached your car, you barge in clumsily, throwing all the items in your hands onto the passenger side. After you slam the door shut; as the noise of the outside, wet world becomes lull, you realize how soaked you were. You watch the many raindrops litter your windshield, pouring like a drain reflecting your heart. Quietly you put your forehead on the steering wheel and try to block out the heavy beating of the rain and your heart.

You knew.

It was obvious wasn’t it. You knew he wasn’t really working overtime for the past two months. You knew he couldn’t possibly be texting Jin that much. You knew every time he averted his eyes, he was hiding something. Knew it was only a matter of time again.

He was clever, subtler than before; practically straining on the tip of his feet. He would shower before coming home, you could always smell the shampoo on his blow-dried hair. Instead of just staying too late, he now took business trips for a day or two, telling you in the sweetest voice he’d be home soon. He bought a second phone – in secret obviously – you would have never found out had it not been for the forgetful habit he had since college of leaving items in his coat pockets. You fell upon it while doing the laundry six days ago and a part of you wonders if he left it there on purpose. You were too scared to speak up about it.

You knew didn’t you.

So how can something you feel so mentally prepared for hurt so bad? Why are you shaking so hard that you have to hold yourself together with both of your arms – wrap them around yourself like a shield. Why are you crying – your tears in rhythm with the heavens above? Every time you close your eyes, you see the corrupt image of your husband and his lover, melting their sinful desires into one. Why is it killing you to know the truth? Were you grasping on to the smallest thread – the smallest hope that Park Jimin wouldn’t hurt you; that he wouldn’t leave you when your own mother left you? How foolish.

You realize the heavy truth of Jimin’s past affairs. Conjuring a vague idea of what and who he might be doing things to – that he should only be doing with you - and visually experiencing the reality your husband pounding into another woman is beyond nauseating. You felt so dirty by what you saw, so disgusted in your own body. Angry beyond despair, you wanted to tear off your skin. This woman you embodied, not worth loving by her own man, was worth nothing. The pandora box had opened.

“Mm – ah” you choke through your tears as the pain in your chest travels through your body like fatal poison, twisting around in your gut like a blade. All your hidden insecurities swim towards the surface, drowning you in your sorrow. Why would it be different this time? Why would someone love you? You recall your mother telling you something discreetly similar on your wedding day. That woman, that wise, wise woman – haunted by her own past. She was right.

Of course, this would happen, just look at you. What’s special about you? Tina walks with her head high, speaks with passion, is young and full of life. You’re practically a hag by now. He looked more satisfied in that moment then he’s ever looked at you, even at your best. Your cries become broken, your voice failing you every few seconds. Someone as bright as Park Jimin could never love someone as dim as you. He called her kitten, she’s his sweet kitten now.

You’re glad your illusion’s shattered. The moments you’ve doubted every happy second in your life, was a prediction of the future – this future. Nights you’ve laid awake while Jimin was snoring next to you, contemplating the sincerity of his actions, if he’ll really ever be content to be with you. All your questions are answered. And you feel like laughing at yourself really. Did you really believe someone as unworthy as you deserved happiness?

Hours pass by before you become too numb to feel the ache. Looking at the rain clouds, you marvel if the universe is trying to share your pain. It’s eerily familiar, this scene. Just like 3 years ago with Mina. You smile bitterly, how awful that you could never escape this fate no matter where you run off to. Even though you shouldn’t, you glance at Jimin’s office window. Still shut tightly and hidden away from you. You wonder if they’re still going at it…if your husband is still making love with her as passionately as he did with you on your first night. Fresh tears prick the corners of your eyes and you use that as a signal to clean your puffy eyes and drive home through the storm.

Jimin comes home around 2 in the morning. It was dark when he enters the house and he wonders if you’ve actually gone to sleep this time. It’s a good thing, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight. Whistling silently, he puts his keys on the counter, coordinating through the shadows by memory. It was raining so hard, he was worried about getting home. Thankfully Tina lent him an umbrella. As he’s taking off his coat, a strong burst of lightning startles him and he notices your silhouette sitting by a sofa chair near the window.

“You’re up?” He asks, confused as to why you’re sitting there in the dark, facing away from his view. You don’t say anything as you let thunder answer for you. Jimin sighs, “Babe, I told you not to stay up for me, haven’t I?”

When you don’t answer again, he walks over to the light switch and turns it on, squinting a bit at the now bright living room. That’s when he regards the boxes on the table.

“You bought pizza?” He asks, walking up to the dining room table, “…It’s soaked”

He looks at your motionless figure, perplexed by your silence.

“Baby…is everything okay?”

Jimin stays noiseless. Why’re you acting so strange he thinks, unnerved by your certain sullenness. He knows that generally, you aren’t very talkative, you aren’t bold or assertive, but after six years of marriage he can tell you always say what needs to be said. You’re honest and empathetic towards people, which is why they gravitate to you so easily. It’s why he married you. Today is the first day in years he can’t figure you out.

“…I…bought pizza on my way home,” You speak up slowly, your hoarse voice making you wince and cough, “But the rain caught me by surprise”

“It’s ruined,” Jimin states, as a matter of fact, picking up the edge of the soggy pizza box with his finger

“It’s ruined,” You answer back

In the reticence of the large room, Jimin captures an umbrella next to the boxes on the table. He’s even more confused now as to why you didn’t use the object, seeing as how wet it was, leading him to believe you had it on you. Of course, you would have one on you, little miss perfectionist. Almost everything you did was smart and logical, he could never catch up to you who could never make a mistake. So then, why didn’t you use the umbrella, he speculates.

His thoughts are interrupted by your voice sounding directly behind him.

“I bought it for you”

He turns to look at you; a bit wide-eyed and startled. He takes in your wet form, from the water slowly dripping out of the ends of your hair to the drenched coat you hadn’t removed off your body – even though you were shivering. The hair on his arms raise in alert as he takes a step back from your sad state,

“I bought it for you…” You say silently, not an emotion on your face

“…Are you sad that it’s ruined for me?” He says walking toward you

“…Yes”

“Oh Hon,” He hugs you and you harden at impact. You want to push him away and yell at him, tell him that it’s all worthless. Instead you stand there, tearing up in his arms, drenching his shirt with your tresses. You wanted to be loved by him so bad. You needed Jimin more than you needed to breathe and you would do whatever it takes to make him love you. Even if that means that he’ll have someone else in his life, even if you might be discarded tomorrow – as long as he comes home to you, you’ll continue to love Jimin. That moment, as he holds you to him while patting your hair, you let tears fall onto his shoulder feeling completely abandoned.

“I already ate, it’s alright”

Jimin had made you feel foolishly special.

“You’re so cute” Jimin laughs, holding your face in his palms as your puffy red face pouts and your tiny hands push away at his shoulder

“I-I’m telling you, I don’t know” You huff, prying at his strong hands.

“Well then, I’ll tell you the answer, but only if you ask nicely” He breathes into your face and you freeze from his proximity. He was always like this. So flirtatious, it made your knees buckle, so touchy, it made flames burn inside you for hours. You tell yourself he was only joking, to not mistaken his friendly nature as something distinct just for you. It made your heart throb, watching him giggle with other girls this way, whispering in their ear’s words meant only for them. It was how you knew you’d never mean anything to him, not like he meant to you.

You weren’t dating, although a few people who didn’t know you existed a few months ago came up to you and asked often. It hurt you in a way, the confusion in their faces as they studied you for a second. As if you knew why Jimin was so attached to you; why he came looking for you after each one of his classes, why he ran up to you every time he saw you in the hallway, or why he was so insistent on making time for you two to hang out despite his legions of pals to keep him company instead. The presentation with him was long from over, you had gotten an A, as usual. Yet he still continued to connect with you, leaving you muddled. You both became friendly rather quickly, and you fell in love even faster. It wasn’t like Jimin had any competition.

It also hurt to answer them with your memorized reply,

“We aren’t together. He is just…a friend”

You wished you could keep Jimin all to yourself, but you recognized that was such a selfish and irresponsible way of thinking.

It was quite despicable how smitten you were for him, swooning at the smallest wave of his hand. You wonder if he noticed, but actually, you’re certain he did. The way he’d smile at you every time you gave him the exact reaction he wanted. You wouldn’t know it, but he craved your responses. Having someone become so vulnerable with just a twitch of his eye was in a word – addictive. He loved having you so weak, so pliable…and he was the molder. He was a god to you, and he could never have enough of your hypnotized gaze.

“Please” You whisper in tiny tone which had him breaking out of his thoughts. Being pinned to a wall in your dorm room on a Friday night wasn’t what you had planned when Jimin offered to drop you off today, but here you were. Jimin had somehow managed to sneak into your doorway, weaseling his self onto your bed and asking you tons of weird questions.

“Alright baby,” You clench your eyes shut as he breathes into your ear, “If you were to be an animal – any animal – you’d be my own sweet little kitten” He purrs for an extra effect as you have to force your mouth shut before a moan slips out

“Jimin,” You mumble, practically falling onto his embrace; questioning why he did this stuff to you, as he pets your head gently. Nonetheless you’d have to remember, he was like this with everyone, you weren’t special to him. It made your gut clench with unspoken desire, but it was the truth. You were just a reactive pet to him, nothing more.

“There, there, my cute, sweet, tiny little kitten”

For the past 2 weeks, you’d been avoiding Jimin as much as you could. Not that you wanted to, but what you felt you had to. Your body was screaming at you – screeching through your ears to find Jimin – find his warmth, his love. But it was futile. It was as if he was your only source of vitality; a forbidden fruit you shouldn’t touch.

In return, you were a ghost with a physical body. You became demurer – more passive, almost like were waiting to completely disappear. Anything Jimin asked would be answered with a one- or two-word reply, you stopped hugging and kissing him all together, going as far as to avoid touches he’d initiate. Touches you used to crave more than air. Working was out of the question; your energy was depleted and even simple tasks like washing your hands was problematic. There were large bags under your eyes and the bones of your cheeks begun to stick out because you weren’t eating. You weren’t sleeping either, insomnia had taken control of your nights and you’d lay there listening to yourself berate you for driving Jimin away. Sometimes you’d take sleeping pills…sometimes you wish you could take them all.

You wonder if Jimin noticed. There were times when he was leaving for work or ‘hanging out with Jin’ that you catch a glimpse of his eyes, a ring of remorse surrounding his irises. Even so, he never acted upon it. He tries to make small talk at dinner these days, as an attempt to pacify you supposedly. Since that night he saw you drenched, he stares at your sunken face for a bit too long, when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. If you were in any other circumstance, you would have laughed at his effort. The reality though, is that you were losing a grip on life, wanting to fade away…you weren’t sure why Jimin stayed. You don’t know why he bothered, by now he knows he could do anything he wanted and would get away with it. Because you love him too much, because he’s all you have.

You took a month off from work. Your boss was stunned, her best employee who didn’t even take sick days suddenly taking a whole month? But she didn’t question it, she knew how hard of a worker you were and if you were doing this then there must be an important reason. She would even go as far as saying you were the most valuable employee; always on time, always going above and beyond, it’s why she made you a manager when you were just 5 months into your job. Work was a constant priority for you, you didn’t want to give it up either. It was a large cause in you and Jimin growing apart, in your opinion. Taking all those extra shifts and staying late made you near perfect at what you did. And you loved it – took pride in your job. But if your boss told you no, you were ready to quit, even having a resignation letter already typed up. Thankfully she had a soft spot for you.

No one was more shocked than Jimin however. He questioned you about it over and over. It seemed like you were a Rubik’s cube he was trying to solve. None of his prying methods worked, and it took him three days…three days to give up pestering you. Ask if you were doing okay. You thought you were worth more to him than that.

But recent events reminded you that you meant nothing to him. Nothing.

Waking up in the mornings was one of the hardest things you had to do. Jimin had already left for work and the house felt as empty as usual. You didn’t want to get up, you had no reason to. Any vigor you had last week felt spent; dissipating into thin air with such insignificance.

Now that you weren’t busy with some form of work for the first time in seven or eight years, you took note of how small your world was. All you would do is go to work or come home and wait for Jimin. You really didn’t have any friends, there wasn’t anyone you could talk to, opting to staying in bed and staring off into space. Into a parallel universe where you weren’t so pathetic, and your husband didn’t hate your guts.

Again, you wake up in the middle of the night. For the past few days you’ve been having the same nightmare. Jimin’s stone cold face turning away from you who’d on the ground in a black void. You call out to him at the top of your lungs – stretching your hand as far as it could go – but it’s no use, he’s walking away from you and up to someone faceless woman…maybe Tina. When you wake up, you’re drenched in sweat and tears, and there’s an ache inside your heart. The same one when you caught Jimin with his professor, with his best friend…with his secretary. And suddenly you’re replaying that horrid scene.

You’re in that dim room again, the dry leaves of that plant are still cutting through your view. Your husband is moaning as he thrusts into Tina’s tight pussy. She’s chanting his name over and over and you start crying at your own imagination. A strumming makes way through your body as you place a hand over your mouth to keep your voice quiet, so you don’t disturb Jimin. You’ll never be as good as her, your brain screams. Even if you can keep him during the day, you’ll never be able to satisfy him at night. Look at you, he didn’t even try to touch you tonight. He doesn’t want you. Tina’s tall and slender, beautiful curves and a gentle demeanor. You’re stale and old. Why have you when he can have the pretty new thing? He’s probably thinking of her the whole time he spends with you.

This night you peeked at Jimin’s sleeping figure. His back slowly tenses as he breathes in and out. You didn’t want to wake him, you really didn’t, but you needed his love so bad right now. Maybe it was the pills you took encouraging you to wrap your arms around his waist.

Maybe it was the darkness of the bedroom making you lean into him, push your face up against his back.

He stirs in his sleep and you feel your heart beating faster.

“Jimin” You whisper, feeling up on his body to placate your heart. To tell it that he’s right here, in your arms. He hasn’t gone away. “Jimin”

“Mm…not tonight,” Jimin says in a groggy voice, removing your arms from his torso, “I’m tired,” You sense slight irritation in his tone and move away from him. If he took a second to turn around, he would have seen the absolute devastation on your face.

He didn’t even try to see if you were okay, he just… fell back asleep without a word. You didn’t want sex…when have you ever wanted sex?! All you wanted him to do was to hold you and console you. Pacify you to sleep, like he used to when you first told him about your mom…or when you had a bad day at work. You didn’t want sex…you just wanted your husband, your most trusted friend, your first love.

You were right. You could never satisfy Jimin…so he didn’t even try to find it from you. He went to someone he knew could give it to him. Turning away from him you muffle your tears into your pillow.

In that cold bedroom, too lonely for your state of mind, too small to fit your insecurities, too fragile to hold you together, you realize the adult human heart is capable of shattering twice in one week.

You felt everything at once. The darkness of the silent chamber, the cold air contrast to his warm skin, the shivers in your spine from his fleeting touches. You took it all in. The sweat dripping through the rails of his skin, the mountains in his muscles, the flavor of his sultry voice. It was the formation of a galaxy, tearing you apart and putting you together.

The kisses he trails along your chest – his plush lips lax against the bumps on your skin leaving their marks of fire with sugar like attention. It left you in a moaning, quivering chaos. Your fingers ache to touch him, to rest themselves amongst his silky strands, shaking ever so softly. Yet your arms lay immobile on your sides.

Satisfied with tasting you he moves up using his muscled arms – he’s so gentle in handling you, like you were fragile glass. You look him in his scarlet eyes – violet spots tainting your vision.

His smile sinks as he takes in your face, angling his head and cupping your cheek.

“Why are you crying?” He asks

You didn’t take notice, letting out a tiny wheeze at his baritone. You had felt the tears, riding the curve of your cheekbones, settling onto the pillow beside your head – but you payed it no mind. More concerned with the glimmer of the angel perched above you. Even then, you bring up your nimble fingers to stroke them in amazement, as if you don’t see the culprit right before you. When your fingers crash into his hand, you take ahold of it, bringing to you lips to worship the man pining you into the bed.

“I…I love you” You choke out, drenched in the anxiety of your brain’s venom – persistently pulling you back to a somber reality. “I’m scared”

His eyes begin to match the room’s shade, his fist clench the sheets. A sensation lit deep within you, a realization of your angel’s call.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll be gentle. I’ll make you feel so good, don’t worry”

He bends over to you, molding your lips together. You take him in without a complaint, your tongues dance around – the etiquette of personal space banished into the light. You gasp in his mouth as he slides into you, holding onto his arm with your small palm.

He lets out a groan once he’s completely seethed in your nectar. His face scrunches, eyebrows pushed together and eyes clenched as you arch your back at his intrusion; your face but a mere reflection. So slow, does he take himself back out with the expulsion of a breath, leaving in only the head as you whine in complaint and clench around him.

But he shushes you back up with his tongue, pushing into you once again afterward. His pace is steady; comforting like a serenade to the spring flowers. You try to control your breathing, but it’s useless as he moves inside you, hugging your frame with his large arms.

“You’re such a good kitten – fuck – better than anyone”

The silk sheets move under your body like tidal waves, while Jimin embodies the moon. A perfect balance of power, you’ve never felt so right until this – until the wetness between your thighs no longer embarrasses you. Instead you welcome it, twisting your own leg with one of Jimin’s so he could get deeper within you, light his fire beneath your soul.

“Mm– ahhh, baby you feel so good, so perfect,” He sighs in your ear, trying to keep control of his movements. He doesn’t want to break you, he could never imagine being rough with you like he has been with countless nameless girls.

But he can’t help making his pace a bit faster when you whimper into the air – your speech like honey – pushing his repressed aggression forward.

“Jimin…Ah Jimin…. Jimin…I-…”

“Shhh…” he shushes your desperate call, rubbing your head with his hand.

“Mm- I’m cumming” You cry out in a tiny voice, so helpless and frightened it makes his heart ache. Your ears were ringing, and your womanhood was already sensitive from Jimin’s hour long ministrations; you were going to explode any second.

“Come baby, it’s all right, come for me my good girl” He arcs his hand until his fingers are in contact with your bud, painting loops on your most delicate area. You can no longer stop the sobs from spilling out of your mouth.

It was just that small push in his tone that undid the knot chained inside you as you hold onto his back with your nails digging into his holy skin. Words of affection fell from your lips, jaw lax at his girth.

A couple more thrusts and whines from you has him over the edge, spilling into you with his head thrown back, mouth ajar from your tightness.

When he finally remembers how to breathe again, he collapses off you, and pulls you into his chest.

It feels as if he ran a marathon as his heavy breaths catch up to him one after the other. When has he ever cum this hard with anyone else, and that too with nothing but pure vanilla? Glancing at your figure, he finds you on the verge of fainting, clutching onto him as if your life depended on it. He smiles, moving the hair sticking to you away from your face.

“Jimin,” You mumble, half of your conscious already in dreamland

“Hmm?” He asks, intrigued by your exhausted state. You’re usually so proper, so level headed, it’s always amusing to see you become like this all because of him. You’re his amusing kitten.

“I love you”

You fell asleep before you heard his answer.

It was a night like any other. You were waiting for Jimin to come home so you could take your sleeping pills and waste away to another morning. He hadn’t come home yet, and the clock was striking 1:30 AM. The cruel part of your mind was out in full force today, repeating every time he told you he loved you, just to be with someone else. Curling into a fetal position and shutting your eyes tight, you try to drown out the sound of you yelling at yourself.

Instead your mind decides to take you there again, in that place where this all started. The dim room, the closed blinds. Your husband and his lover. This time though, you’re on the other side of that pillar. There’s no plant blocking your view, no door to escape out of; just you, your husband and the girl he’s fucking against the pillar.

You stand there, frozen at the obscene image. It felt so real, so close you could almost touch it.

“S-sir” She moans in delight, Jimin hitting a particular spot that has her mewling. Is this how it’s like every night…on those business trips? This is who your husband is when he’s not around your presence. So lively and full of passion.

Suddenly, they both look at you, who’s trembling in tears that fell without your knowledge. They glare into your eyes, Jimin still thrusting into her, as she moans out your husband’s name. Then they laugh. Your eyes widen, and you take a step back, away from their menacing stare. Loud, sinister laughs echo off the walls of the compact office, you put your hands above your ears but it’s no use. Mina and Jessica stand before you, both with equally menacing expressions and they’re all laughing. You’re falling into an endless void of Jimin’s words, his laughter screeching inside your eardrums, yelling out a band of hidden insecurities.

“You’re nothing”

“– Worthless”

“You don’t even have a friend”

“Who would love you”

“– So boring I want to take my eyes out”

“She doesn’t act dead in bed”

“I only married you because I pitied you”

“No!” You sit up with a blood curling scream. A dream you pant…just a dream. You clutch at your heart as sobs escape your throat. Taking a peek at the clock reveals it’s 2:45 AM. Shaking in your bed, you move about and whisper to yourself. It was just a dream, wasn’t it? Trying to calm down, you hush yourself until all you could hear was the subtle whirr of the air conditioning.

“Jimin?” You call out, wondering if he’s out there in the far darkness

No answer. Why wasn’t he home yet? Even in his careless cheating days he always came home by 2, so where the hell was he today?

Getting up from the bed, you shiver slightly in your sleeveless nightgown. You walk into the living room and turn on the light as you eye it inside and out, trying to find signs of another body. Picking up your cellphone, you click his contact on speed dial. Tsk, voice mail, what did you expect. You throw your phone across the room as sadness fills your bones and you pull on your hair in frustration.

You can’t be in here. Everything reminds you of Jimin. The couch you both cuddled on for movie marathons, the kitchen you spent hours in preparing food to make him smile, the foyer you danced waltz to every night in the first month of your move. You felt sick – suffocated in the reminder of Jimin’s absence.

Grabbing your coat, you leave your apartment to find the elevator. The top floor had a terrace like rooftop practically made for late night loners. As the elevator doors ding open, you walk onto the cold pavement of the dark flat roof. You walk up to the edge of the building, blocked by a wide cement wall reaching up to your waist. You observe the loud city, the bustling cars, the honking and yelling, police sirens in the distance. It was so far away, yet everything felt so adjacent. Carefully you nudge your leg over the wall, one after the other. Then you take a moment and sit down on the space, legs dangling over the ledge. Beneath your feet was stunning scenery that could turn into a nightmare with just the slightest wrong move.

In that moment you don’t care though, softly kicking your feet up and down. For a few short moments, everything felt like it was alright. You forgot how horrid your life really is. A mother who discarded your presence, a father who left without a goodbye, no friend in sight, so much work made for a fruitless cause, and a husband who never loved you. It was when you were so caught up in a day dream so tragic; that falling off hundreds of feet seemed so rewarding. Why were you so worthless? Why were you nothing? A dangerous view settles inside your head. If you were to jump this instance, would Jimin be sad? Would he ever let out as many tears as you shed?

Would he hold you for the last time and tell you that he loved you all along?

“Please don’t do somethin’ rash”

Comes a voice behind you in the shadows, startling you out of your daze. Your wide eyes turn to look at the perpetrator of the worried tone. There, a few feet away from you on the roof stands a middle-aged man with the bud of a cigarette on the corner of his lips. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his stance is defensive, ready to hold onto you lest you took a leap into the light below.

“I-I wasn’t going to,” You stutter. It was true, you weren’t. Maybe you pondered on the subject a tad, but you really weren’t. Not tonight.

“Oh, thank god,” he physically deflates, running a hand through his wavy black hair. “Sorry, you just seemed to be swimmin’ in sadness, my mistake”

Reaching into his trousers’ pocket, he reveals a green Bic lighter

“You mind?” He directs at you.

You shake your head, a bit hesitant to speak to a complete stranger – stiffening up when he come close to your ledge – standing right next to you. He was around Jimin’s height, cat-like features prominent on his pale moon skin.

“My name’s Yoongi” He reaches his hand out towards you. It takes you a moment, staring at his hand and then his face, until you’re shaking his hand and giving him your name.

“That’s a pretty name,” He smiles, puffing out a gust out smoke, “So, what’s a young lady like you doing out here all alone?”

At another moment of your life, maybe you would have ignored his question. Maybe you would have lied. However, this time – you don’t recall what it was that caused you to tear up, to let a silent sob escape your lips. To tell this man you don’t know about your problems,

“My…husband,” You sniffle slightly, inaudibly whispering the second word as if it was a curse

“Hmm?” He questions, not quite catching what you said which make you clear your throat

“My husband,” you start again, “He’s not home yet”

There’s a part of you that hopes he understands without you having to say anything else, and another part that screams at you for being so brazen – so careless.

It seems like he understood though as you hear him murmur a small, seemingly sympathetic scoff

“I see…I wouldn’t have thought a guy like him would do that…he looks so bright and honest” He pauses to take a whiff of his cigarette before he continues “Guess you can’t judge a book by its cover”

“You know of him?” You ask cautiously

“I know of you both! I live on the floor above ya’ll and he’s greeted me in the lobby a few times. And you’re the busy little lady that comes back from work around the same time I leave for it! I pass you on the elevator all the time.”

You rack your brain trying to think of the times you saw him, if you’ve ever seen him. Nothing really comes to mind unsurprisingly, you’re not really a people’s person. Instead you opt to pull your beige coat tighter around you, due to the early morning chill making its way up your bare legs into your spine

He glances at you in deep thought and chuckles, “Don’t think too hard, I don’t really have the most memorable face”

His easy-going nature made you smile. You were glad he was pleasant instead of a creep.

“What kind of work do you do?” You find yourself asking him

Reaching into his coat’s pocket he brings out a compact white business card and hands it to you. You carefully examine the card with the help of the city’s lights while he speaks up

“I run a night club near downtown. Cypher road, ever heard of it?”

You shake your head at him

“Actually, I’ve seen your husband there a few times”

At the mention of Jimin, your eyes widen. You looked like a kicked puppy and he quickly scrambles to fix his statement-

“Don’t worry! He was only there a few times with his male buddies, nothin’ bad I swear! They ain’t do nothin’ but drink and act like fools”

You giggle at him as he waves his hands in the air in desperation. Seeing that you’ve calmed yourself through his antics makes him giggle as well. He puts out his cigarette on the ledge’s concrete, breathing out the last puff before speaking,

“I was married once too ya’know”

“Once?” You question

“He died… stage 4 pancreatic cancer” He replies monotonal, a distant gaze in his eyes

“Oh…I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, shit happens” He gives you a grin which makes your heart churn, “But the thing about him – about marriage that I’ve learned is the happy moments stand out no matter how bitter the reality actually was.”

He flicks the burned-out cigarette forward with his thumb and index finger. It falls away into the abyss underneath.

“Even 5 years later, I still remember him laughin at a dumb joke I made or not lettin my hand goes during horror movies. Ya’know the sweet stuff. I’m rarely reminded of the difficulties we went through because of his disease – how much it hurt when he shut everyone…when he shut me out”

He closes his eyelids and you wipe tears lingering in your own. It was strange how him sharing his pain made you feel a bit better about your own.

“What I’m tryin to say is, the torture I went through the first year after his death, I survived that. Agonizing thoughts of him not bein with me, not holdin him to sleep changed into me appreciatin the time we had together. And I had to do that alone – without him, even if there was a period where I felt that I couldn’t live a second if he was gone. Time moves forward and it heals all.”

“No pain lasts forever”

You silently listen to him and reflect about your own marriage. One day…would you be able to forgive Jimin…survive without him? Would he be able to survive without you?

“…All I’m sayin is that you deserve better”

Deserve better? You? You’ve never thought of it like that. Wasn’t it Jimin who deserved better? That’s what you always clinched. From the first time he cheated on you, to now. And no one ever told you any different…until this moment. In these past six years, or even since you were a child, did you ever think about just yourself? About how you felt? Did Jimin?

“You should come there too someday, it’s a real nice place, Cypher Road. A bit loud but overall nice” Yoongi interrupts your thoughts, pointing at his card with his silver ring encrusted pinky finger

Taking a breath, you look at the card and then to the city buildings. How long have you lived in this city without evening going to a park let alone a nightclub? Crowds and noise weren’t really your thing, you’d rather spend a Saturday night curled up with Jimin on your sofa listening to Dean Martin records. Though, you look back at the card in your hand, it’s not like that’ll happen again anytime soon. Jimin had always been everything you wanted, but for a second as you sit there, you feel as if you’ve missed out on so much. Guilt follows you soon after for feeling that way.

Would Jimin like it if you went there? If you…were to be that person…someone who was more outgoing, curt or sexy. If you wore revealing clothes or painted your nails every week. Would Jimin like you then? Would he make love to you again?

It was absurd to even think about…but just maybe? Desperation reeked out of your heart like toxic gas – your insides twisting as you hold on to the card tighter. You felt so pathetic

Your shocked out of your trance by a hand lightly touching your shoulder,

“Don’t fret too much, it’s all good,” Yoongi gives you a friendly smile, “Come only if you want to, I ain’t forcing you”

You watch him leave back into the building and you turn to the bright metropolis in front of you again. What are you thinking? You laugh at yourself, at your imprudent behavior. Why would dressing differently make Jimin like you? You’d still be boring old you, it’s not like getting great grades in school made your mom love you or your dad come back.

The problem is just you, just this bad fortune you were cursed with. No one would ever love you.

Deciding to call it a night, you hop onto the rooftop’s pavement and make your way towards the elevators again. Before entering, you take one last look at the beautiful metropolis; the ambience you’ve never got to enjoy. Bright light and endless chatter, a strangely serene completing puzzle piece to the large earth. You take a glance at the starless night sky and the vanishing moon, before entering into the warm building.

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the astonished eyes of Park Jimin. He has both his and your phone in his hands, holding them up as if he was inspecting them. Subtly, you slip the card into your coat pocket, before hanging it by the rack next to the doorway

You awkwardly stand there for a moment before he asks you,

“Where were you? I tried calling you and I found this behind the dining table” He points your phone at you, his voice sounding worried

You recall how you had thrown your phone into a wall out of anger and haste, which makes you sigh as you close the door and walk up to Jimin.

“I was taking a breath of fresh air…on the rooftop”

“At this time of night?” He gives you an indescribable stare

Anger swells up in your chest at his tone, and before you could help it you’re bitterly mumbling out an answer

“It’s not like you were god knows where at this time of night”

You could tell you’re both shocked by your reply – or more so the annoyance in your words. Jimin stands there a bit, trying to read your expression. Why was that so hard for him these days?

“Sorry babe…I fell asleep…in the office” He tries reaching out to you, but you take a step back to avoid him.

Just like a while ago, you feel nauseous. It was amazing really…how easily he lied to you as if it was nothing. As if you couldn’t smell the perfume on his clothes. You feel tears crawl up your eye sockets but you breathe in and try to keep your emotion at bay,

“It’s fine, let’s just get to sleep” you say, passing him by before he could say another word. You miss the gloomy gaze in Jimin’s pupils, staring longingly at the outline of your back.

The door thumps open with a sudden gust of wind. Your eyes fly to the two bodies sticking together in the entrance.

“Oh. Thank god, Mina! I was so worried,” Running up to them, you promptly place your hand on Jimin’s chest, who’s giggling and limping hanging onto said woman’s shoulder

The woman chuckles as she adjusts the taller man, letting him lean more towards you. “Your husband here doesn’t know when to quit, even though I win every time”

Jimin looks up and makes eye contact with you, giving you his dazzling million-dollar smile, “My lovely ___~”, he stretches the syllable of your name at the end

You sigh as Mina lets him go completely and he now clings onto you, heavy alcohol compressing his natural scent. He always came back like this after a night at Vertigo’s, the prestige club at the other side of town. Carefully gathering him in your arms, you walk with him into the bedroom, taking cautious steps. In return, he noses your neck while cooing your name, making it difficult to keep your balance steady.

After you’ve gently laid him in bed, you take off his shoes. Undoing his pants, you slide them off as he fusses around like a child. It would make you smile usually, Jimin’s adorable state, if this scene hadn’t been done for the hundredth time this year. You were tired of him going to unknown faraway places to party and drink, while he missed plans you two had made around the corner. He would always apologize though, tell you how he just needed a way to release stress from his job.

It was always a habit for him, he never seemed to like any of his bosses, all of them relentlessly working him to the bone. Which in turn made him grouchy and tired. Jimin never bad mouthed anyone, therefore you knew it had to be serious.

And so, you sympathized with him; started to forgive more and say less. Pretty soon he was going out every night, his female companion always having to trudge him home. When you set his pants and shoes aside, you move to his button up, removing each button quickly as he quietly stares at you – heavy breathing in your face.

He grabs your wrist suddenly, once you’re halfway through and it makes you glance up at him. His eyes are heavy and dark, pupils dilated, and plush lips parted. Staring at you through heavy lids, he slowly feels over the skin on your wrist with his fingers, making you shiver. Jimin was a beautiful man indeed. Who wouldn’t forgive such an angelic face?

As much as you wanted to fall into the chasm that were his eyes, you knew this wasn’t the proper time. He was drunk after all, so you shook of his hand relentingly and finished unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling the covers up on him, you watched as his eyes fluttered shut with fondness. You gather the shirt in your arms, turning to the doorway when you freeze.

Something had moved…away from the bedroom’s entrance. It looked like someone’s head. The only person here other than you both was Mina. She couldn’t have been spying into your bedroom…could she?

Shaking off what you saw as a mistake, you walked into the living room. Mina was sitting on the couch opposite from you, seeming a bit apprehensive.

“Is he asleep?”

“Yes, you know Jimin. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep after drinking”

She gives you a half-hearted laugh as you set down Jimin’s shirt on a chair. Mina sat a few feet away, but you were barely able to make out her facial expression. The vague lighting of the living room had always been a pet peeve of Jimin’s. He always found something to complain about around the house, because he always wanted to live in a luxurious apartment in an upper north city, unlike you. You loved this place and this city. They provided you with the sense of familiar comfort, like Jimin did. You couldn’t imagine parting with the city where you met the love of your life.

As Mina starts recalling the story of how she won their drinking game this time, you fondle with his shirt. Your body aching to go lie down with him already.

It’s when you noticed it.

“Lipstick…”

“What?”

“There’s lipstick on the collar,” You say, picking up the edge of his shirt with your index finger. A small bright red stain rested on his off-white shirt. Your heart started to beat faster.

“O-Oh…T-that was me,” Mina answers, immediately shooting up from her spot

You glance at her, “You?”

“Guilty,” She says awkwardly, “Jimin gets really fussy on my shoulder and we accidently bump into each other all the time”

At her explanation, you collapse inside your head – relived. For a second, you were beginning to wonder if Jimin’s recent distance was due to another Jessica. No, that was only a one-time thing you remind yourself. Jimin wouldn’t do that to you. Letting out a breath, you send a smile at Mina’s direction. The girl appeared to be sweating in her heels.

“Mina, thank you so much for always taking such good care of him. I don’t know what I would do without you”

She stretches her lips at you, “N-no problem. He’s my friend”

“Do you want something to drink? Something to sober you up maybe?” You question her. Moving your body in line with the kitchen

“No!” She shouts, quickly stepping her way to the entrance, “I always love your food, but I-I should leave, it’s getting late”

“Are you sure?” You furrow your brows, “Why don’t you stay the night?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I really should head out”

“Alright, be careful” You smile, walking up to her

She stares at you for a minute. It looks like there’s something she wants to say. You tilt your head at her.

“_-___ I-”

You stay silent, waiting for her to finish her sentence. But instead she chokes up, tears swelling in her doll eyes as she quivers in her spot. It makes you bothered, your lips pulled into a straight line. You are about to open your mouth when-

“Nothing, good night,” Turning around, she hastily pulls the door open

“Wait are you o-”

“Yup, good night” She doesn’t give you time to finish before she slams the door shut. Leaving you with your mouth somewhat ajar.

That was strange, you think. Mina and you had a friendly relationship. You wouldn’t go as far as to say you both were friends, she didn’t seem to prefer your company when Jimin wasn’t around. But you were fine with that, you liked her because Jimin liked her, trusted her because he did. Although, you were a bit jealous about how comfortable Jimin was with her. It just comes with friendship, you concluded you wouldn’t understand. In the end, you play it off as another misunderstanding like when you were in the bedroom.

You were really disorganized that night, just having had a long day at work and then staying up late for Jimin. You were probably really out of it.

Not even noticing that she wasn’t wearing red lipstick.

A couple of days past since that night, you were busy reading emails Yura sent you in the wake of your absence. You missed it, honestly. Dealing with numbers and graphs, presenting said graphs you spent the whole night perfecting, the results of your hard work being admired; being complimented. If you think back on it, you’ve always needed the approval of someone authoritative – someone above you. At first it was your mother, and now it’s your boss, the CEO of your company. You’ve never had anything you wanted to do out of passion or because it actually made you happy. The last time was six years ago, at the altar with Jimin. But your job was still better than this. It was better than being stuck at home, behind the most confining 4 walls – all by yourself. Enslaved by no one but your own mind. This place was once your sanctuary, the one you wanted to come back to, the one once filled with Jimin.

There were hours, sometimes days, that you would spend zoning out. All of your daydreams consisted of wondering what Jimin and Tina were doing together. Were they on a date? Perhaps they were making love in his office or a motel or Tina’s or anywhere they could. It was thoughts like these that drove you insane, until you were nothing but an empty shell. Crying didn’t help anymore, you ceased that a while ago. Food was tasteless, the bright sun no longer made your sentiments yearn. There was no want in your heart left; abandoned by its owner.

There was no love either.

As you open Yura’s last email, you stumble upon a sentence that raises your brows. ‘Company X merger with south district nightclub.’ You think back on a few nights ago, on that terrace at 3 in the morning with that stranger named Yoongi. Moving your eyes off your laptop, you look around your silent living room. It was Saturday night and you were alone…you and Jimin hadn’t even spoken to each other for the last two days. Since your rude behavior a few days ago, Jimin had been tip toeing around you a lot more. Not even trying to come home at 2 anymore, sometimes he’d spend the whole night away. He didn’t even make eye contact at the dinner table, yet alone make conversation. You might as well have been alone all 24 hours of a day.

“I’ve seen him there a few times”

Closing your laptop, you get up from your sofa chair and make your way to the coat rack. You pull out the small card Yoongi had given you and look at the club’s address. Taking a quick peek at the clock, you conclude you’ll be back home in 2 hours if the traffic is good. If…you were actually going to do this…

Like you weren’t in control of your body, your feet drag themselves to your room and into your closet. Your possessed frame wasn’t corresponding with your brain who kept repeating how bad of an idea this was. Picking out an old dress, one from your more youthful days, you do a light set of make-up and brush through your hair. You grab your purse and remember your phone this time, throwing it into the clutch with the club card and some cash. Everything was completed so quick, your mind didn’t have time to process anything until you blankly stood in the doorway, waiting to move again.

You’re really going to do this. You haven’t been to a club in…well you never went to a club. Back in the days, you heard about Mina and Jimin going to clubs together; she would joke about how she’s there to keep an eye on Jimin – make certain he’s not flirting with some other girls. How ironic. Shaking, you slowly turn the door knob in your vacant apartment, opening the door and cringing at the loud creek. Take a deep breath you tell yourself, before you’re leaving out the door in a quick paced motion, only one thought swimming across your mind.

You deserve better

You know how they say some places feel like a whole different world? Well yeah, this is what they were referring to. The dark neon lights moving about like lasers, the overly loud, heart pounding music; and so many warm, wet bodies suffocating your presence. So this is what a club is, you gather. Taking in the loud electronic drums pumping in your head, you almost couldn’t think straight. Everything was large and spread out, yet you still felt overcrowded and overwhelmed. Shuffling on your feet, you stood there awkwardly by the bar staring at one of the bar stools. The thought of casually walking up and sitting down was causing you unease.

Eventually, you gathered the nerve to do so. Looking around, you weren’t sure what you were so worried for, no one seemed to have said anything. There was really not much to do but glance about. The bar tender seemed busy with other customers. Quite young-looking girls, which made you a tad iffy. By the way the man was eyeing them, he also thought they looked too young to be in here. You looked away once he asked them for an I.D., and a man next to them laughed loudly, telling him to let the girls have fun.

The booths were situated across the room from you, and you heard a lot of bottles popping and celebratory shouts from their direction making you smile. There was a second balcony floor above the booths. A lot of people were there as well, but the atmosphere felt more serious up there…more fancy. On the first floor, right behind the bar was the dance floor where more than half the crowd was located. Some of the dances made you blush and turn away…it was astonishing that’d they do those certain movements in front of so many spectators. You couldn’t even imagine doing these things with Jimin alone…although maybe you kind of wanted to. Not having the courage to look at the couple practically humping a few feet from you, you decided to just observe your lap.

You spot your wedding ring reflecting off the neon green laser lights. A gold band around your finger, delicately engraved with Jimin’s name. It had a large diamond, shaped like a heart as the centerpiece. Again, you’re reminded of the enigma that is Park Jimin. There was no way you could escape him, even here, everyone’s favorite place to hide from the world for a night or two. He basically owned you, body and soul– refusing to hand it back over no matter how much you wordlessly pleaded.

It infuriated you.

Hesitant at first, you move your hand to carefully slide off the ring. Strange, you think holding it up to the lights of the bar in front of you. You thought it’d make you feel worse, but no…it was liberating? Tonight, there’s not much you want to think about…especially not your feelings. Tonight, you want to run away with the outcasted mass, reflect about nothing as you passage through space and time continuum without having to live it. So, without giving it another thought, you open up your clutch and throw the ring inside.

And so, you sat, tapping at your thighs through the see-through satin of the bottom of your dress.

“Hey there, sweesh cheeks” A guy’s gaudy voice shouts in your direction over the music. It’s him, the man laughing at those girls from before. He’s moved closer. “Never seen you before? *Hic* What brings you around here, huhsh?”

You weren’t one to judge someone at first glance, but he had the most obnoxious smell coming from him, which made you stay mute if not a bit disgusted. He had long greasy hair, tied in a ponytail and the beginnings of a patchy beard. It looked like he hadn’t showered in days.

“I’m Daniel by the way” he shoots you a wink

He wore a cross pendant around his neckline, earrings decorating both of his ears. He tried to faintly move closer to you, his scent neighboring you. The last thing you wanted to do was be impolite, but the man was slimy, smelling of mold and cheap, over the top body spray. Alcohol littered his breath and his pupils were a bit off. As he sits down next to you – too close for comfort – you subtly turn your head away, not wanting another whiff of him. You were honestly regretting ever setting foot outside your house.

“Heeeeyyyy” He moves his face even closer to you making you scrunch your nose and slightly move off the bar stool. Daniel takes notice to that and doesn’t seemed too pleased about it. It was then that he grabs your arm and starts raising his voice, “Don’t be sush a bish, I’m jush trying to talk,” he slurs

You try to pull your arm away but he just pulls it tighter “Stop…go away” you say to him, trying to sound courageous but your voice failing you miserably. He smirks at your frightened behavior and you want to throw up. Before he could do anything else you watch as he gets pulled away from you and off of the bar stool next to you as a woman starts screaming in his face

“She told you to stop, didn’t she? Scram you little shit”

She throws him towards the right, where he loses his balance and trips on his own leg. Scrambling to get up, he runs away into the dancing mob. The woman takes a seat next to you after scooting the stool away from your side. She doesn’t bother to look at you as she shouts for a shot. In retrospect, you gape at her in awe; from her short stature to her elongated plastic nails and high pony tail all held together by her tight blue dress. When she catches you gawking at her she raises a brow,

“Is there a problem?”

“N-o No!” You say, flustered at her actually speaking to you, “Thank you for what you did”

“Don’t worry about it. The guy was a creep, he had it coming” The bartender places a shot in front of her which she immediately downs and begins fishing through her purse.

When you notice she was taking out cash to pay, you intervene “It’s on me!” You shout quickly grabbing a 10 from your purse

“Hey, you don’t have to –

“It’s alright. Thanks again” You smile as you put out the bill for her. She pauses for a second and just stares at you, making you slightly nervous.

“What’s your name?” She asks, giving you a once over

“___” You answer back, cowering a bit under her gaze

“Well ___,” She smiles, “I’m Irene, me and my girls are in that booth over there, care to join us?”

It was as if someone turned back time to your high school days. In all your years of living, no one had asked you to join them except Jimin. Now that it happened, here you were about to ruin it by looking like a fish out of the water. Your nerves are on high, and you feel yourself getting extremely warm as she continues to stare at you, a bit confused by your silence. By the adrenaline running through you from the sudden events and Jimin flashing through your mind; there was only one answer lingering your lips. An answer that surprised even you.

“Yes”

The night goes by in a blur

One second you were being pulled into a booth with extremely pretty young ladies, and they’re introducing themselves. Joy, Chae, Riri …some other people you don’t recall. Everyone was so nice, and they were really loud…but in a fun way. You hated noise, but their shouting and laughing was heartening for some reason. It matched with the vibe of the vibrant club. Suddenly you were chugging the bottle someone had pushed into your hand. All you’ve ever had were some wines and rose’s with Jimin, and now you’re unexpectedly gulping down a bottle of Bacardi. Cheers surround you the more you drink, the lighter your head feels, the freer your body moves. Nothing was registering in your mind, which concerned you a bit because you always had control over what you did – over all your movements.

You’re sure you were pushed onto the dance floor…or were you? Wait, you couldn’t dance, you were gonna embarrass yourself! But your worries seemed so trivial while you watched all the carefree figures around you; you decided to follow the other girls, observing their fluid movements and becoming encouraged. You swung your hips and spun around the dance floor to whatever noise was blaring through the speakers, permitting it to take control of your body.

Someone crashed into you on what you thought was an accident, until their hands found a way to your hips and they pulled you unto their sturdy chest. They grind themselves on you, and you’re too drunk to care letting them sway you how they want. Your hair was sticking to your forehead and you plop your head back onto their shoulder. It’s been so long since you had this much riveting human contact. They were warming you up, you could feel the flexing muscles in their arms smothering you and they had such a pleasant incense…like honey. Goosebumps rise onto your skin.

“You smeelll…soo nicee” You giggle in a slurred speech as you feel them breathe into your ear

“You’re so fucking sexy babe,” You moan at their deep voice, something inside you stirring at their foul language as he tightens his hold on your waist. Then there are even more gaps in your memory, but you remember being reluctantly pulled away as Irene dragged you away to the entrance. She asks for your address a few times as you mumble in your drunken state and then she throws you in a cab.

“Get home safe, I’ll call you” Was the last thing you heard her say before the driver pulls away from the club.

Now you’re inside your complex’s hallway, trying to find your apartment door. You’re wobbling around in your heels – trying to find your flat number – humming a loud song you didn’t know you knew. When you find what seemed like the right number, you cheer and run up to it, jumping in place as you get your keys from your clutch. The last thing you remember was opening the door of your apartment and being greeted by Jimin’s angry face.

Your eyes flutter open. You stare at a spotty white ceiling while you adjust to the light of the familiar room. There was a strange numbness in your body making you feel on edge while you try to fully grasp your consciousness. Slowly you sit up using your arms, immediately regretting it as a strike of pain shoots inside your head. Hissing you grab onto your forehead and bend your body forward, resting your elbows on your thighs. You felt terribly sick.

“Fun night?” A voice suddenly cuts through the room

You look up and see Jimin standing a few feet away from the bed with his arms crossed. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips curled down in a prominent frown. You didn’t quite register what he said so you just let out a small ‘huh?’

“I said it looks like you had fun last night, seeing how you were out till 3 in the morning”

3? Wait…you left at 10 pm…so five hours? You were out for five hours!? How is that possible. God, you never leave the house and the one time you do, you can’t even properly account for the time. You didn’t have any second to reminisce about last night’s events as Jimin burns a hole through you, not noticing that you’re as shocked as he was. He couldn’t put it into words how mortified he is…he’s known you for 8 years and you NEVER came home late from an unknown place; drunk and untamed. How could someone just change like that? You’ve been acting weird ever since the day he came home to find you soaked. Going out to unknown places, coming home later than him. With another man’s cologne lingering your body. He tightens his fists.

“I called you fifty times…did you forget your phone again?”

You take note of the irritation in his voice which has a flame of rage opening inside you. Instead you opt to search for your clutch. Finding it on the dresser next to you, you take out your phone and open it to see 14 missed calls – making you wince.

“Sorry, my bag wasn’t around me” You mutter, running your hands through your messy hair. You were still wearing yesterdays clothes and you felt icky, and you needed to shower so you throw the cover off of you and get ready to get up

“Where were you?” He questions

There it was, that tone in his voice again. You look up to see him glaring at you, so you glare back

“Why do you care?” You spit, “Did I ask where you were?”

He’s startled by your behavior and decreases his heavy stance. You get off the bed and push your way past him without another glance as he stands there questioning himself of what just happened.

Could she…no…it couldn’t be…

He then stares at your clutch haphazardly thrown on the bed. Maybe, he thinks, there are some answers in there.

The following Monday you decide to start work again. Calling your boss to notify her, who was elated at your return. You sit at your desk completing a spreadsheet, a tiny feeling of contentment in your bones. Since Saturday, Irene has called you to ask if you got home in one piece. One thing led to another and you ended up having dinner at her house. Good thing too, since you knew Jimin wouldn’t be home so you would have just skipped eating again. She was a year older than you, single and very proud of so and worked real estate.

Irene could tell straight away that you weren’t the clubbing type. As if the way you responded to the rude man wasn’t enough, you made her worry by stumbling across the dance floor like a fawn. Or as she put it so kindly, easy prey. She invited you over because she wanted you to loosen up, not knowing how effortlessly impressionable you’d end up being. She explained to you that she thought you were originally from a more rural area, like she was. When she first moved into the city, she was also quite naive to the boisterous and progressive city ways. You didn’t know how to tell her you’d been living in big cities your whole life…you just…don’t get out much. Either way, you were immensely grateful she had watched over you and sent you home.

The night’s events to you are in complete distortion – turns out your brain was not prepared for such a large consumption of alcohol in an hour. Irene tells you things that you have absolutely no recollection of that has you hiding your face behind your fingers. Apparently, you tried to tear off your clothes because they were too warm? You kept singing a sad love song out loud on the dance floor? Also, you were shamelessly grinding on the hottest guy she’s ever seen? There was no way you did any of that…is there? If there was, then there’s no way you’re going back there again…and that was okay with you. At least one good thing came out of it.

It made no sense to you, but somehow you think she wanted to be your friend. Why would a fun, amazing person like her want to be your friend? You were on edge the whole time at her apartment, thinking there was a catch coming and she was about to laugh in your face. But the only laughing she did was after making cheesy jokes as she set down Risotto in front of you. Funnily enough you laughed along…you forgot you could do that recently. The Risotto was also the best you had in a long time, and you were blown away by her cooking skills. It was as if food had become tasteless in the past month.

After 26 years, you finally have someone to call a friend.

As you type in the last set of numbers on your spreadsheet, you smile. After work you agreed to grab pizza together and you felt like an excited kid going to a sleep over. Maybe you should drop by the rooftop again tonight, you’ve been wanting to thank Yoongi for finding you a friend…and you also really want to see him again, for some reason. You were tapping your foot amongst the floor and whistling to yourself when you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in” you singsong. Yura steps into your office and hands you a printout you ordered.

“Ma’am” She calls you who’s examining the client memo, making you respond with a ‘hmm,’ “Is it alright if I leave early today? My therapist ran into a small problem and now my appointment is an hour earlier”

You immediately stop reading the paper and look up at her in surprise.

“Is everything alright?” You question carefully. Had you missed out on so much? But Yura looks as fine as usual…why would she need a therapist?

To your surprise she lets out a chuckle at your shocked face “Yes, I’m fine. I’ve had a therapist for a few years now, It’s nothing new”

“Oh...” You recoil, “I’m sorry I didn’t know”

“It’s alright, it’s sort of an open secret,” She says cheerily, as if she was expecting your reaction

“You can leave early” You smile, awkwardly trying to get back to what you were doing

“Thank you” she says walking towards the door. As she’s about to pull it open, she spins to face you, “Umm…You know Ma’am…” She starts making you look up at her

“I usually don’t get the best reactions when I tell people I’m in therapy but in honesty, therapy isn’t a bad word.”

“I know” You smile at her, you hope she didn’t think you had any prejudice against her because of so

“Then would you get offended if I told you that you should find a therapist”

At her words a hint of exasperation builds up on you. What did she mean by that? You’re about to open your mouth and tell her off when you realize that this is exactly what she was talking about. You just told her that it’s okay to be in therapy, but get mad when she recommends something that’s been helping her to you? Humans are so hypocritical aren’t they. Like how they say they’ll love you forever and then go find comfort in someone else; or how they say they understand, when clearly, they have so much to learn. You look away, ashamed

As if knowing exactly what you were thinking, she sighs “Thought so…My own parents” She pauses, looking at the floor with a hint of sadness, “They tell people that I haven’t been the same since grandma passed away, or try to make other excuses for why I try and seek professional help. I guess they desperately want to make me look like a sane person in front of people,”

“Yura…” You feel something caught in your throat. She’d been your secretary for 2 years now and you didn’t know the first thing about her.

“And it’s true” She meets your eyes again, “That I was really sad when my grandma died, I was really so reckless, and I wanted help. But that’s not what therapy is all about. Even though now, my life is back in shape, I have an amazing boyfriend, a wonderful job, and a great boss” She beams at you as you hide a blush,

“I need someone to talk to sometimes…someone to just listen to me rant without judgement and help get my thoughts in order. It helps me process my emotions in a heathy, productive manner and I’m glad I’m in therapy trying to better myself, rather than hiding behind a fake mask of strength, pretending that everything is – and always will be alright. Or thinking that being tough means holding the whole world on your shoulders by yourself for some reason. Sometimes everything will not be aright and the world won’t fit in your shoulders and that’s fine…I’ll learn to deal with, the best way I can…my therapist and I.” She walks up to your desk and puts down a folded piece of paper, and walks back to the door.

She takes a breath, it felt like she just took a huge burden off her shoulder by telling you this, “Ma’am…you work harder than anyone in this building, all my coworkers talk about it all the time, we all admire you”

Staring at her in shock, you have to force yourself to blink so you don’t come off as crazy. You always assumed your colleagues at the company thought of you as an overworking recluse, you never could’ve imagined anyone but your boss appreciating you, much less admiring.

“I’m recommending her to you because I know you stress about your job often. I’m right in the next room and the doors are literally made of glass,” She chuckles. “She’s great and you deserve the best. Please give her a call if you have time and thank you again for letting me leave early”

With that she walks out of your office and leaves you alone with your thoughts.

You stare at the piece of paper on your desk for a moment, before reaching over and picking it up. When you unfold it, you find a name and number written in black ink. It seemed sort of crumpled, and old and it makes you wonder if she’s been holding onto this for a while. The see-through door in your office gave anyone outside a pretty clear view of you at your desk. She probably saw you running your hands through your hair, frowning and huffing and wanted to help you out. But she was mistaken about one thing. It wasn’t because of work that you were stressed…it was because of your husband, Park Jimin…and you don’t know if you’re ready to talk to anyone about something so private – so dear to you yet. Huffing, you shove the number into your purse and turn back to the memo to continue reading.

It was Jimin’s day off today, and you were surprised to wake up see him lounging at home. Half of you thought you were still dreaming. You stare at him lying on the couch in his sweats from your bedroom’s doorway, wondering why he didn’t leave to hang out with ‘Jin’ already. He did come home pissed yesterday…that might have something to do with this. Did he have a fight with his mistress perhaps? Jimin looks up from the book he was reading and gives you a smile that has you weak in the knees.

“Awake sleepyhead?”

“Why’re you here?” The words fall out faster than you could stop them. You see him frown at your reaction.

“Can’t I be at my own house?”

“…You usually aren’t,” You mutter as he squints his eyes to see if he heard you correctly. Not waiting for a response, you immediately head to the kitchen to grab yourself a cup of coffee. Pouring the black brew into your baby blue mug; you sniff the rejuvenating scent and let the warmth of the cup spread through your palms, resting in your joints. Smiling to yourself, you turn around to grab some creamer and end up almost dropping the mug out of your hands in shock.

Jimin had swiftly moved from the living room to stand behind you, quietly watching you like a hawk. His presence oddly threatening.

“Yes?” You question him, strangely uncomfortable at his penetrating gaze. Hand in his pockets, he moves closer to you as you move back, becoming trapped between him and the stove.

“What’s up with you these days?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper

“W-what do you m-mean?”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

What? Isn’t that what you should be asking? Your face morphs into confusion at his accusatory tone.

“W…hat?”

“Where’s your ring?”

Pointing at your hand he narrows his eyes at you. You give him a weird face with your mouth agape before registering what he just said, which makes you hold up your hand to inspect it.

“…”

“So, where is it?” He crosses his arms warily

You rack through your brain, trying to recall where you put it or when you lost it. How long have you gone without noticing? You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find an answer through your faulty memories. Just then Jimin reaches into his sweat’s pocket an pulls out the golden, diamond studded jewel, holding it up a few inches from his face.

“Where did yo-”

“I found it,” He practically growls, “In your clutch from Saturday night, remember that?”

“What were you doing going through my stuff?! I don’t recall going through your things even afte-” You yell defensively.

But he ignores you and pulls out something else from his sweats, “And what’s this, huh? Why’re you going to cypher road of all places without telling me?! Coming back at 3 in the morning?! Who was the guy with the nice cologne by the way?!”

It was the card Yoongi gave you.

It’s not that you and Jimin hadn’t had fights before – just like any other married couple, you did. Usually it ended with you conceding, meekly apologizing before things got too out of hand. So, when your ears turn fiery red and you feel yourself apply pressure to your teeth and clench your fists, you receive a crashing realization. The first time in ages he concerns himself with your whereabouts, and it’s only to accuse you of something so revolting? Blame your flare of anger on the only sip of coffee you had and the stingy fresh morning air. Blame it on Jimin himself never feeling the need to tell you where he was headed – not the truth anyway.

“IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!”

…

There was a deafening silence that followed your outburst as your husband stood there stunned. He took a step back, he’s not sure why…you weren’t in any way a threat to Park Jimin…were you? His shy, small wife would never raise her voice at him. Would never make him feel that he was the one in the wrong.

You let out a shaky exhale, loosening your grip on the mug and setting it on the marble top. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, securing it above your temple.

“For years…I had no one. You knew that…and you told me it was okay – that you’d be my everything” Closing your eyes, you try to process your thoughts rationally, “Yet you went out…You continued to move forward with the world, and I was constantly left behind. And I said it was okay – I made excuses to myself that you were the more outgoing one, that it was only natural – that it was okay that you went to clubs and missed dinner dates and forgot my birthday. But in reality, I was lonely Jimin…Always.”

“Did you ever even notice? Or were you too busy celebrating the fact that your wife would destroy herself from the inside out, just for you?”

It took everything within you to make your words comprehensible. You were struggling to hold back tears looking at him. His face seemed worried and upset, but maybe it could just be an act you tell yourself. It’s not like you actually knew Jimin now did you? It wasn’t that you were proud of what you did that night, no one should be coming home drunk at 3 AM, it’s dangerous and unhealthy. But did he ever think that if he were at home, maybe you wouldn’t have gone to an unknown location in the first place? If he were at home, maybe he could have gone with you and brought you home like a husband does? You wouldn’t have had to stumble back drunk if it wasn’t for him. He didn’t know anything about you, no matter how much he acted like he did.

“I don’t think you’ve ever noticed…or cared. So, excuse me if I do the same.”

Snatching the ring from him you shove it back on to your finger in front of his face.

“There, happy now?”

When he doesn’t say anything you clear your throat, picking up your mug, “For the record, I’m not doing anything unfaithful. I’m not-”

You.

Stopping yourself from finishing that sentence, you take a deep breath and walking past him. You didn’t wait for his response, if he has any, not wanting to stand in the suffocating atmosphere of the kitchen any longer. Before leaving the kitchen, you shout back over your shoulder,

“I’m going out today, I need to meet a friend”

You take off before he can give you an answer.

“Then we can add the caption over in this section”

Jimin watches you while you work through the graphic of the presentation, already having zoned out from what you were saying a long time ago. It’s funny to him how interesting he started to find you this past week. When his professor first told him you were his partner, he thought the man was mistaken, having never even heard of your name in class. That was rare for him, the most beloved guy in college, friends with literally anyone that breathed. Even the campus’ squirrels adored him.

From then on it was routine. Walking up to you, giving his ‘angelic’ smile, watching you fall for him hard. Contrary to what most edgy Hollywood films might tell you, popularity is actually an amazing feeling. He loved having people whipped for him, how their eyes lit up when he entered a room, how he could take their breath away by simply running his fingers through his hair.

He treasured this power.

A certain part he noticed about his social circle was their need to become important in his life. They wanted to be noticed by him, they wanted his recognition, they wanted to be his special someone. And it made him laugh really, I mean he was flattered but it was also a bit pathetic. They’d try many things; playing hard to get, seducing him into bed, even stalking him around campus. He felt sad for such folks, imagine having such futile ambition.

Then again, it was as if there was a silent understanding amongst most people. Jimin couldn’t be theirs, which definitely means he couldn’t be anyone else’s. They were satisfied because it wasn’t just them and their miserable shortcomings, but rather Jimin who didn’t want to belong to anyone. And who wouldn’t respect precious Jimin’s wishes? How hilarious, he wanted to sneer at them for even thinking they could know anything about him.

Jimin never felt guilty for feeling this way, it’s not like he was hurting anyone’s emotional state by being a disrespectful person. He never begged for the attention, never forced anyone to love him, it wasn’t on him if they couldn’t discern rationality. It was a give and take relationship after all; people gave him the attention he desired, and he gave people a sense of superiority just by being connected to him.

But you were different somehow. It was obvious you liked him right when he came up to you, the expression on your face was nothing short of a deer in headlights. Yet the more time he spent with you, the more you just…worked. Normal people might not think anything of it, pass you off as some hard-working nerd that would get them a good grade, but to him it was bewildering. You just didn’t care about his attention, you didn’t ask him for more than you had to, and you never even looked his way in class.

He didn’t think you were faking it, you didn’t look like the type of girl, one he’s encountered many times before. No one in his circle or even outside of it seemed to know of your existence. The stuff he cherished – held onto dearly, none of it appeared to matter to you. Large amounts of friends, dedicated followers worshipping the ground he walked on, not even your parent’s unconditional love. Such peculiar behavior intrigued him into studying you. It almost felt like you’d rather live in the shadows. A concept so foreign and bizarre to him.

A certain desire invoked in him that day, observing you who was ranting apologies about an error you made in the screen. It was as if the weight of the world shifted, a sudden awareness on his surroundings – on you. For the past week you both have been working together, he’s been nice and cooperative as he usually is. There’s a semblance of distance in the form of an invisible line, both based on the terms of unfamiliarity and politeness.

However…what if he were to cross that line and give you the one thing so many individuals craved. The thing people have practically begged him for so long with their obsessive eyes, their inaudible whines as he leaves their presence, or when he as them pinned beneath him at his mercy. What if he were to give you what he knows some girls in his classes would kill each other over.

Scooching his chair closer to yours he rests his jaw in his palm. You stop talking and stare at him with wide eyes, he could see you gulp as he smiles your way. The nepenthes rafflesiana emit a honey scent to lure their prey. He sets his plan into action by tenderly blowing on a stray hair in your face, his expression morphing into one that should be kept only for the bedroom. Noticing the cause of his actions, you quickly remove the strand in a frenzy. Jimin giggles at your panic, and he notes that he’s genuinely laughing compared to the memorized charming laugh he has for most people.

Moving so that the tip of his nose was nearly touching your cheek he stretches his lips,

“You were saying?”

What if he were to give you his special attention?

“First of all, if I ever meet him, I’m going to cut off his ba-”

“Irene!” you shout, quickly cover her mouth with your palm. She huffs, removing the obstacle on her face with a deadpanned expression

“Secondly, I really don’t know why you’re still with him as far as I can tell, you seem to be completely over him”

You look down at the hardwood table below you, the curtains of your eyes strain in concentration. Irene sighs, knowing the expression on your face to be all too similar.

She had stumbled upon your secrets by accident one night. You were embarrassed yet overjoyed to say that you and her linking up had become routine. One evening, you were at her place cooking together and you ended up burning your thumb. All she did was fret over you and dip your finger under cool running water and the next thing she knows the faucet isn’t the only thing leaking. Her small act of compassion made you burst into ugly, roaring tears. She was rightfully very freaked out, but also immensely worried. It was as if you hadn’t been shown any amount of human kindness in years. After spending minutes calming you down, she finally probed you enough for you to spill the beans.

Irene was beyond livid. You watched her jaw set with each word you spoke. Actually, you’re pretty sure she called him every name in the book and then some. The outburst was short-lived, and you were afraid it would make her act different towards you. But she didn’t, if anything, she was kinder than before. A sympathetic glint in her eyes each time you broke down.

Since then, she’s been your confidant anytime you feel the overwhelming urge of despair.

“You still love him?” she asks, quieter than before. Staying silent, you listen in on the small chatter and distance cars around you. You sat right outside of a vintage café. The weather was nice, the generous café offering a view of beautiful blue clematises draped along the margins of the stone building. Above you, stood the striped canopy connected to the establishment, allowing in the gentlest of the sun rays to glow up your rosy tea.

“I love him…I want him…”

“And why is that?”

“…Because I need him”

“For?”

“I don’t know…” You close your eyes in frustration. Frustration at your puzzling emotions.

“Well I do,” Irene takes a sip of her brew “You need him because you think he’s the only one who can love you and therefore make you feel whole”

You look up at her in surprise. Something about what she said resonated with you…how have you never noticed before?

“Listen,” Irene says, clacking down her cup, “I can’t tell you how to live your life or who to not love. But I can tell you the person you do need to start loving.”

She takes a moment to stare at you in your eyes, and you capture the sincerity in her irises. Heat rises up to your face, never having seen this much care in someone else for you. It made you tear up.

“Yourself”

“…Myself?”

“Yes, think about it. You worked hard in school because of your mom. You work hard at your job for your boss. And you worked hard in your relationship for Jimin. What have you ever done for yourself?”

Contemplating Irene’s words, you try to think. What had you done for yourself? You weren’t even sure you had a hobby…all of your interests were things Jimin seemed to fawn over.

…Who were you?

“All right, how about this. In your life, other than Jimin, is there something you like to do? Something that genuinely brings you joy, not because of another person, but just for yourself”

“I-”

Reminiscing through your dull past, you didn’t find anything but study books, grade marks and pencils. Lonely nights and lost dreams, a broken heart and repeated hesitance. Swallowed words, an indistinct confession of love, the sound of a keyboard, bitter coffee…and Jimin…and…

“Cooking”

“Hmm?”

“I like…” squinting your eyes, you reflect hard, “yeah…I like cooking.” You say smiling, proud of yourself for some reason.

“I like cooking”

Irene grins widely at you showing her perfect set of teeth, “I like cooking too. You know I always wanted to own my own restaur-”

But then her expression falls, and worry fills her eyes,

“Why are you crying?”

“Huh?” You bring your fingers up to meet with your wet cheeks. Confused and disoriented, you quickly grab the napkins on your table and wipe away your tears as Irene’s shocked face only turns worse, “Sorry, I – I don’t, I…”

Taking a deep breath, you speak up again, “I didn’t know I liked anything,” this time letting the tears of happiness fall on their own accord.

“Oh, honey,” Irene gets up from her chair and moves to your side, engulfing your upper body with her arms, “You deserve so much better”

There was that word again. You weren’t sure what it meant completely quite yet. Only a fragment of its definition registering into your head as the other half felt cover by a large sheet – a locked object waiting for you to find the key. Maybe unlocking the answer would take a bit more time, but you knew one thing for certain.

You were starting to believe it.

Barging into your home, you heave a sigh with your back against the front door. It was a long day and Irene’s impromptu shopping trip didn’t help. She made you pick up half the store’s items. Even going as far as to secretly purchase any item you felt insecure or shy about herself and stash it inside your bags. You couldn’t even count how many bags you were carrying, as well as the amount of ‘sexy’ dresses Irene made you buy. Honestly, you thought half of them were lingerie. Throwing off your heels you make your way into your bed room.

You fling the bags next to your bed and jump onto the springy mattress. It was so comforting, you almost moaned as the foam molded into the shape of your back. Your eyes were shut delicately, and you were about to fade away, which is why you didn’t hear the bare footsteps making their way across your floorboards and the slight dip on the edge of the bed.

“Baby?”

You flutter your eyes open at the familiar voice of your husband, turning your head to see him sitting by your side. He puts his hand over yours and squeezes it softly.

“Long day?” He asks cautiously

You nod wordlessly

Looking over at your bags he lets out a chuckle. “Looks like you had fun…” He looks back at you, “I’m glad.”

Smiling at him you hold his hand back, letting your freshly manicured nails kindly scratch his palm. You felt remorse for blowing up at him this morning. All you want to do with Jimin is have a normal conversation – confront him without acting so aggressively. Spewing irrational nonsense that would get your relationship nowhere. It’s the least you could do for someone you loved.

His hand starts moving along your arms slowly, then rests on your shoulder. He moves closer to you, until his face is hovering yours. Lips parted, his breath fans your face.

“It’s been a while” He says lowly, gradually leaning in further and further

He kisses you; tenderly at first, moving his hand up to cup your cheek. You let him in, not having tasted Jimin for far too long. Your tongues move in harmony, faces adjusting to get better angles inside the wet caverns. He moves his thumb along your cheek, his other hand travelling up your leg and you hum into his mouth. Shivers run up your skin as he rubs the inside of your thigh. It was when you accidently bite his tongue that he lets out a growl.

You recognized that sound.

It was the growl he made when he was fucking Tina.

Your eyes flash open in an instant, feeling like someone threw cold water all over you. His touches no longer causing butterflies, instead making the rising queasiness in your stomach worse. His scent was no longer soothing, and his tongue no longer welcomed.

“Mm-No-mm” You pry at his chest until he comes off you. Sitting up immediately, you wipe your lips, an uninvited sensation crawling over you. You stare at Jimin who’s breathing heavily. Flushed face and blown pupils, staring at you in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” He asks

“I…I don’t want this,” You say, still wiping at your mouth, trying to make the dreadful feeling go away. You feel small when he grunts and looks away from you, running a hand through his hair in irritation. He stays still for a moment, burning a hole into the ground as you bring your knees to your chest.

“Then what” You glance at him as he speaks, “What do you want”

Holding yourself tighter at his hardened stare, you try to talk. But you’re unable to form the actual words

“I-I…I don’t…I”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” He screams making you flinch, getting up from your side. “WHAT IS IT, HUH? WHY DON’T YOU EVER SAY ANYTHING?”

“I don’t know!” You yell back upset, tears blurring your vision

Snarling in anger, he runs his palm over his face.

“So, you just take a month off of work, stop talking to me, start taking these damn sleeping pills, go out to places with people I never met, yell at me when I do show concern, and now you don’t want me to touch you?”

“At least tell me what’s going on, please, tell me what you want,” Coming up to your face, he pleads with you. His eyes appeared half crazed and exhausted, it frightened you. It reminded you of your own when he first started distancing himself from you.

It was surreal to you, watching him get angry at you treating him how he treats you. Should you have been this angry since the start? Would that have made him feel as guilty as you’re feeling right now? All these hypotheticals were starting to bore. You knew exactly what you wanted from Jimin, you were just scared of the consequences of voicing what you desired. At that moment however, none of those consequences mattered…

“I want you…to be honest…” Breaking your silence, you stare at him dead in the face

“…what?”

“Be honest Jimin…stop pretending with me all the fucking time.”

Jimin looks taken aback as he watches you, trying to decipher the meaning behind your words. You’ve always been difficult to read…always.

“You think…after spending eight years with you, you’d learn the decency to tell you me the truth. Have I ever asked you for anything else? It could be the least you could do for me. Isn’t it, Jimin?”

You wait for him to say something, pushing through the exhaustion of your soul. “Why did you do it, Jimin…why did you choose to do it…to me?”

Jimin is a smart man. He knows what you’re implying, knows what this could mean for him…for you. You know…you had caught him. It would finally explain so many things plaguing his mind. Yet at this point he’d rather not have answers at all. His suspicion was solidified by the discomfort under your eyes. So lost and broken, an incomplete passion.

He racks his brain to speak, to refute, but instead he stays mum and helpless. There seems to be an invisible line you both can’t cross – aren’t willing to cross. Strange really, how the world turns, just to come back to where it was. If the female grasshopper bites the head off the male grasshopper after mating…who’s to blame? The female for being so heartlessly cruel or the male, for knowingly falling so hard it led him to his own demise? Maybe neither. Maybe they were both just caught in their own fate, helplessly watching as the world was turning without their consent.

You both stay there, quietly staring at one another.

A loss for words doesn’t cover it, you both were purposely letting the time pass by with nothing to disturb the environment. It was as if you both – in that time frame – you both were simultaneously recollecting the same thing. The first meeting, the first date, the first kiss, the first time. That one afternoon when Jimin took you to the park and he ended up getting swarmed into a pond by whiteflies because of his lime green shirt and he told you he loved you for the first time when you pulled him out. Or when you bought him matching mochi keychains when he kept losing his keys, and he wore it on display everywhere even when his friends teased him.

How every time you cooked something, he wolfed it up giving you a million genuine compliments and it made your eyes shine like Christmas lights. He’d make sure to peck your face several times throughout the day and peck you more if you blush, his favorite color displayed on your cheeks. You’d pretend to sleep through your alarm, so he’d wake you up by whispering in your ear. He would save chocolate strawberries at parties, even when he was drunk, just so he could bring them home for you. Just small, trivial things that grow irreplaceable down the road.

When you had to deal with all of his absences without a complaint, as long as Jimin would still smile at you with his crescent shaped eyes in the mornings.

When there was a time Jimin realized that he couldn’t live without you, so he ran away without you knowing.

They wonder what their relationship would’ve been if they met at the right time; a better time. When the world stopped moving for them, so they could see the other in balance instead of motion. Therefore, never feeling like the other was fleeting.

But they never will, they met when they met and did what they did. Their sins were written in stone, never to be erased.

And that’s just the case with them.

Jimin turns and leaves without the room without another word. You lie back down on the mattress lifelessly, wishing for the day to be over.

#BTS #BTS angst #BTS fluff #BTS smut #Jimin angst #Jimin fluff #Jimin smut #R:CHTMD

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acatfishconfession · 3 years

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Chapter 1: Who am I?

If someone - anyone, had bothered to ask me (other than my elementary school teachers) where I could see myself at age twenty-nine, pushing thirty. It sure as fuck wouldn’t be here.

“Where is ‘here’, exactly?” Here, is sitting in a broke down computer chair. Listening to sad instrumentals on YouTube auto-play while I sip my Dunkin refresher, binge eat munchkin donut holes and cry over my laptop keyboard.

I wish I could say that was the worst of it. Truly, I do. But the real depth of it - the most heinous and offensive thing of all that I am doing right now is why I am here and writing this with my D.D. and emotional bullshit.

Most of my time is currently occupied flipping between five fake Instagram accounts, three fake Facebooks, two fake Twitter accounts, a fake Tinder, a fake Bumble, and my three personal accounts on social media where I’ve already lined up my next potential ‘mask’. Which is what I like to call the unwitting victims of image theft.

That’s right, world.

I am an online catfish.

Hate me. Hate me as much as I do.

I keep hoping that maybe if I feel enough of it - it will somehow trick the overly sensitive, non-confrontational, and social anxiety-riddled side of me into once and for all stopping this madness. Or at least making me feel guilty enough to just want this be over - in whatever way this sort of insanity can end once and for all.

I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit considering the two ways it most likely will. As well as the one that I don’t dare to even mention because it’s as foolish and more unlikely than any other.

The two main ways it will likely end are death or prison. The likelihood of death being by my own hand though, is slim. Not impossible, but most definitely unlikely. Purely for the fact that I am without doubt, the biggest pussy I know. Hell, most of my tattoos were just a means to try and impress friends. Which sucks even more now because I hate damn near all of the friends I wanted and equally the tattoos that I have.

Still not sure if it’s because I hate the tattoo artist that did them or just their artwork in general. Either way, there it is. I’m a pussy. If you were concerned for a moment that I might kill myself and by partisan obligate you to contact someone for help - you can relax now.

No. If I die it will most likely be homicide via crime of passion. I am fully aware that I may inevitably piss off the wrong person in my catfishing ventures, and end up at the bottom of a river somewhere. But that would probably be good old karma just doing what she’s best at. After all... When you play a dangerous game with emotions, those emotions can become the most volatile weapon anyone can wield. Especially when they are tested and toyed with enough. As for prison... Well... I know there are many legal actions people can take in regard to how their photos are used and what is said about them. How they are portrayed by others online or otherwise falls under the realm of slander - if I’m not mistaken. Not entirely sure if we can call it genuine identity theft. I’m pretty sure the entire point of being a catfishing is to work in a lucrative enough way to which the content owners will be forever (or at least prolongingly) never the wiser to what you’re doing. So you change things like name, locations, ages, birthdays, etc. Avoid them and their circle of friends with prejudice. I don’t just mean ‘don’t send them friend requests’ or ‘don’t check their pages’.

If you’re good at catfishing (if one even call the level of depravity you have to hit to do it well ‘good’), you pull out all the stops. Finding all of their accounts on every site and app and blocking them, their friends, their friend’s friends, and families. Whole geographic locations sometimes. Anyone from their area or who went to their school. You vanish from their potential radar.

And believe me when I say.... At catfishing... There are none better than me. At least, not that I’ve ever heard of.

That’s not to be confused with boasting. I feel disgusted with myself in even stating it. Because that’s what it is - disgusting. This is the first time I’m admitting this in my entire life. So, I suggest you take a deep breath with me before you read what I’m about to confess. Ready?

In - one, two, three, four, five, six.

Out - seven, eight, nine, ten.

I have catfished as (yes, I’ve counted)… One-hundred and twenty-seven people.

I know... I know... It’s impressive. Horribly and disturbingly so. And that does not account for the number of accounts I’ve had for each of them. Emails, Instagrams, Facebooks, etc. Even a few Vampirefreaks and Darkstarling accounts back in the day. I can’t even remember the names of most of them anymore. Only their faces. But even those fade over time.

You’d think for as prolific as I’ve been with getting to know them, their lives, and those around them so intimately to pull off the amount of catfishing I have - I’d remember more clearly. But I suppose if you do anything for as long as I’ve been catfishing, you’re bound to lose track of a few memories or blips of time.

I know you’re all dying to know exactly how long I’ve being doing this for. So I’ll tell you. The answer may be as equally shocking as my ‘mask count’. Realistically, take a moment and try to guess how old I was when I started. Here’s a tip. As I sit and write this, I’m 29. Just a few months shy of my 30th birthday. Now go on.... Give it your best shot.

Got a guess?

Ladies, gentlemen, and thems. I have been catfishing since I was eight years old.

That’s right. Only eight years old. I’m sure you were thinking surely fourteen or even fifteen. Technically, you’re right. Somewhere around there is when I actually became aware of what it was exactly that I was doing. But things were much different then. When I was eight, the internet being a modern in-home comfort was relatively new. We had dial-up. Screechy AOL start up sounds that were most likely close rivals to what would be Cthulhu’s mating call. The days of poorly moderated chatrooms and weak HTML coding. Not even Myspace existed at that point (I really miss Tom. We took him for granted. Zuckerberg’s rules kind of make him seem like a bit of a cuck. But I digress.)

Before I was twelve years old, no one knew what the hell ‘catfishing’ was. We’d never experienced enough of it to have to worry that people online would lie about something as outlandish as their face. Their age, name, or location - maybe. Shit, people have been lying about their relationship and marital statuses since the dawn of man. The internet didn’t breed lies like that, (though I’m certain it made it a great deal easier to do). Those were the kind of lies that you’d think of when it came to telling lies on the internet. But nothing like this.

Now look at us. For every ten of your actual friends on Instagram, there is at least one catfish following you or trying to make friends with you. Not that it’s a factually proven ratio or anything, more so an idea. I’m clearly not a scientist or research analyst, and as we’ve already established - I’m way too busy maintaining fake accounts to actually look up factual catfishing statistics.

So why? Why did I do it? Why do I continue to do it? Why confess now? Most importantly, who the hell am I? The ‘whys’ are a bit more complex than just selecting reason A or B. But if you’re really curious to know and willing to hear what I have to say and find out what makes up a catfish. Or at least - me. The most prolific online catfish likely to date (here’s hoping I am because I’d hate to know there is anyone crazier than me out there). Then stick around, because I’m ready to tell you - all of you. Everyone who cares to read this story. I am going to do my best along the way to help you answer some questions you might have. What is it like, how does it make me feel, do I really feel guilty, are there other kinds of catfish, and which one am I? And of course - how to spot and potentially stop a catfish.

Maybe by the end of this blog series, and once you are past out-right hating me (if you can find it in you to get past out-right hating me.... *Insert nervous and shameful laughter here*). You’ll be at least thankful to have learned some new things and gained an understanding that you hadn’t expected to from this. Or at least be thoroughly entertained - because, who the hell doesn’t love a controversial story line? As for who I am....

I really wish I could give you an answer. Because truth be told - I don’t even know anymore.

Maybe in writing this series, I’ll figure that out. Hell, you might even help me get there a bit. Aside the most obvious and recently discovered portion of that answer being, that I am first and foremost, a massive piece of shit - for stealing people’s photos and lying about who I am.

#story autobigraphy catfish controversial writing series book author blog blogging internet fake faking socialmedia

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #321

i’m exploring the deepest recesses of tumblr to unearth super old surveys, so you can expect an onslaught of ‘em.

When someone is tailgating you, do you drive faster or slower? I drive the same speed, even though it makes me incredibly uncomfortable. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? My sister's place. Have you ever been snorkeling? No. Do most of your relatives live in the same state/province as you? No; only my parents and immediate sisters live here. Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Is there a food you hate that everyone else seems to like? Especially where I live, fried chicken. It's disgusting. Have you ever had to evacuate from a natural disaster? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Numerous, actually. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have a driver's license, never mind anything else. What job does you significant other have? I’m single. When you were in elementary school, what was a typical afternoon like once you got home from school? I did my homework right away; well, after having a snack. After that, I was most likely on the computer playing Neopets or Webkinz, or something on the PlayStation. Is your favorite movie part of a series? Yes. Have you ever played in a water puddle? Sure, as a kid. I loved that. Have you ever played in a mud puddle? I don't think so. Have you ever kissed someone (outside) in the rain? Yes. He did it purely to be romantic, lol. Have you ever lost control of your car in the rain? No, thank fuck. Have you ever had to attend summer school? No. Have you ever experienced a summer where the temperature exceeded 120'F/49'C? Yikes, no, not that high. The highest we usually get is below 110. Do you live in a hot or cold (normally) climate? Hot. It sucks. Has your community ever had a “smog alert”? No. Have you ever raked leaves, and then played in them? Oh, absolutely as a kid. Dad would rake a pile just for us kids. Have they ever cancelled school because it was too hot? At least once, yes. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. Have you ever experienced “cat’s breath”, where the wind was so powerful it took your breath away, literally? Yep, especially when I visited Sara and we went on a walk. It was fucking outrageous. Safe to say I didn't last long on that walk. Has your/or have you been in a car that was stuck in a snowstorm? No. What does your MySpace profile look like? I haven't seen it since that site was still "a thing." I do remember, however, that it was COVERED in meerkats, haha. Pictures, facts, etc. And my page song was "Pocketful of Sunshine" by Natasha Beddingfield lmao. Do you like living in the country or city better? Country, 100%. I'm not a city gal by any means. Do you have a big backyard? No, it's very small. Not used to that at all. What is your favorite Adam Sandler movie? I don't know, he's in too many to choose lmao. What was the last thing that surprised you? Apparently a rocket crashed today after launch. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building? No. I... didn't even know those existed lmao I feel dumb. Who was the last person that said something that warmed your heart? I'm not sure, but I'm quite certain my niece or nephew would be involved there, haha. What is your favorite park? I don't have one. Have you ever felt an earthquake? No. Do you believe anyone is asexual? ???????????? Yes???????????? Were you abused? No. Have you ever missed a deadline? Yeah. Can you tell Mary-Kate and Ashley apart in pictures? I haven't seen them in an eternity, idk. Describe your fondest memory: I don't really want to... but I'll entertain the question. It's hard to choose, and they just about all include Jason. I think what I hold closest though was our dance to "Stairway to Heaven" after prom in the headlights of his car in my front yard. It's something that physically hurts to remember. What song makes you cry every time you hear it? Let's set aside my "trigger songs" for this. "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade does it very easily. How often do you break your promises? I almost never do. I don't bullshit around with promises. I've only ever broken ones I'd forgotten I'd made, if my memory serves me right. How long do you take in the shower, on average? Not even 10 minutes. Do you have your MySpace/Facebook profile set to a "friends only" setting? Yes. Did your last kiss mean anything? Why or why not? Of course it did. I care very, very deeply for her. Are your summers usually boring and relaxing, or busy and interesting? "Summers are hot and miserable." <<<< mood Tell me a crazy thing you did as a child. I don't really think I did anything "crazy" as a child, just weird. Like pretending to be a father penguin arranging rocks to mock a nest. I was fuckin weird. How many best friends do you have? One. When you’re upset, who do you wanna talk to the most? Either Sara, Mom, or nobody. Opinion on Daughtry? They're nice. "No Surprise" is positively beautiful. Do you like country music? Noooooo. What’s been the most awkward situation you've been in? Okay, possible TMI. Basically, Jason's parents arrived home way, way earlier than they were supposed to and my panicky ass couldn't find my clothes quickly, and when I finally did, I had to dress as quickly as possible in his tiny-ass closet while he distracted his mom and dad lmfao. I'ma just say it was a very close call to me melting into a mortified puddle. I look back on it and laugh now, but the absolute, throbbing fear I felt was NOT funny back then lmfao. Don’t you love that feeling when you look at someone and you just melt? <3 That is genuinely one of the best feelings in the entire world. Do you prefer male or female singers? I have no preference. So what are you planning for this summer? Nothing, really... Who knows where the Covid situation will be then. What’s a good book? In general for absolutely anyone, Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. It is a book about pacifism that is so very deep and emotional. For women, I highly recommend The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. As a woman myself, the concept of the book is terrifying, to be reduced to reproduction machines without rights, so it's something you can really feel as a female. It's a book that definitely makes you want to fight for women's rights. Is it awkward for you when your parents talk to you about boys etc… No. I'm a grown woman. Now if she asked about my sex life (if I had one), I'd feel a bit weird, but not very. Do you like it when guys play with your hair? Yeah. Ever cried when you had to say goodbye to someone? Well of course. Over multiple people. Have your parents ever hated one of your boyfriends/girlfriends? No. Have you ever dreamt of someone you barely know? Indeed. Do you have a blood donor’s card? Yep. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? I had to before surgery. Has anyone seen you naked in the last week? No. What kind of doctor did you go to the last time you went? It was via phone, but I talked with my psychiatrist a few days ago. Does your ex still think about you? I'm sure Sara and Girt do, as they're my good friends, but idk if either think of me romantically. I would hope Jason at least remembers me with some degree of care in his heart... As for Juan, Aaron, and Tyler, idk if they do and I don't really care. What has been bothering you a lot lately? My weight. Are you trustworthy? I think so, yes. Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? Yeah, but it definitely depends on the situation. Which literary character would you dress up as, if you had to choose one? Speaking of The Handmaid's Tale, for Halloween one year, I really, really want to take some cool photos of me dressed as a handmaid with a (obviously fake) blood splatter over my stomach. What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? Being born with the mom I have, probably. I have no idea. None. Of where I'd be without her. Do you miss college? Sigh, sometimes... but I'm not going back. No chance. Dropping out three times due to my mental state hints at a clear pattern. Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? Yeah, accidentally. Except with my physical science teacher in HS that eventually became my "other mom" and most recently our landlord, even. I call her "Mama" sometimes. What was the name of your first imaginary friend? It was a wolf whose name I don't remember. What color was your nursery when you were a baby? No clue. What is your favorite arcade game? I desperately wanna go to a location that has Silent Hill: The Arcade. :/ That's on my bucket list. It's very rare. Are you allergic to grass? No. Do you remember to water plants? I don’t have any plants to water. What is your favorite fall drink? I don't drink any "fall" drinks. Favorite winter drink? Hot chocolate! Favorite spring drink? There are "spring" drinks? Favorite summer drink? Gimme a nice, cold margarita. Name three creative people you know. Sara, Tez, and Mini are some of the most creative people I've ever written with. Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. Mark in like a million different ways, I look up greatly to Jeffree Star's work ethic (say what you will about him personally, but holy shit does mama WORK), and Emzotic for her incredible growth after trauma that's left her more confident than ever, and she's amazing with animals and just a darling overall. Does anyone know who your current crush is? Yeah, I'm pretty open about it. Have you ever been scammed? Not successfully, no. Which song describes your life? I relate to "Get Up" by Mother Mother a lot at this point in my life. If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? Probably because I open up so slowly/am very secretive of myself when someone might be trying to get close. People have also criticized my laziness. Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? YouTube. At least I think Tez was the last person I gave my number to. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? Hunter, my neighbor growing up. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? My therapist. I had to leave group due to severe abdominal cramping. It was just my period, but he just wanted to check. What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine? Probably a soda back when I was still in school. Has anyone given you butterflies recently? Actually yeah; I had a memory of Sara that caused 'em to revisit me. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I'm going to exclude my puppy-dog crush (Dylan) and talk about my first "real" crush, Sebastian. I liked him because we had very similar interests, he was really friendly, nice, and funny, and he clearly trusted me a lot because he actually confided in me regarding the relationship he was in that was struggling and causing him a lot of pain. I thought he was attractive, too. Ngl, I wonder sometimes where we could have gone if he hadn't been dating the girl, because I'm 90% sure he was into me, too. In current times, he very recently got engaged! Super happy for him. Which parent do you identify with the most? My ma. What do you think you cook or bake the best? Scrambled eggs, I guess. That's just about all I CAN make, haha. My family likes 'em. I always use American cheese, salt, pepper, and a bit of hot sauce. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Admitting I RP. If you had to choose one thing you were most passionate about, what would it be and why? Of actually important things, gay rights. If we're talkin' passionate about anything, then the answer's meerkats, duh. Who are you most envious of—real or fictional—and why? A rival photographer that lives here. I absolutely hate admitting that, but yeah, I'm extremely envious of her. She gets way more traffic than I do by a long shot, even though I, from a completely modest and honest standpoint, genuinely think I do better work than her. It's just frustrating. All about who you know in this business. How old is the most expired item in your fridge? Supposedly our milk expired on the 1st, but it smells just fine? And mind you, I am very cautious with expiration dates, and I've found milk typically starts to smell bad a few days earlier than the date to me. This jug is an outlier. What are your favorite style of underwear? I'm a fat old lady that likes high-waisted underwear. What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard? Maybe "The Ballad of Dwight Fry" by Alice Cooper. I could name tons, though. How about the sweetest song? Maybe "Easy to Love You" by Theory of a Deadman. Another song I struggle to listen to because it was one of mine and Jason's "songs." Do you know how to play dominoes? No. Are you proud of what you’re doing with your heart and time right now? Not in the least. Why or why not? I'm just wasting time. Doing nothing with true meaning, and I seem unable to get over this low point I'm in. How many bones have you broken? One. Well, I was told "fractured," but apparently that's the same thing as broken? Have you ever won anything? Big or small? Yeah, multiple things. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Animals like cats or dogs. Pets, basically. I would feel WAY too weird. Has anything/anyone every saved your life before? Yes. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try? If I'm embarrassed by it, why would I share it with whoever reads these? What is the most important memory you have and why? When I decided it was truly time to move on from Jason. Why that's my most important is obvious: it changed my mindset and life in general. Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did? God, I hope Jason read my apology email I last sent him. I finally accepted I did wrong, too, and I want to know that he knows that. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My youngest niece's first birthday was mid-February. What’s a musical instrument you think sounds really beautiful? The violin. Do you play that instrument? I wish I could. Do you have a favorite type of pasta? (like a shape of noodles, not dish) Just spaghetti noodles, ig. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once. Who sent the last e-mail you got? My PHP therapist sent me the Zoom link to our group session. Do you have a favorite shape? Out of basic ones, circles. What’s the last song you bought/downloaded? I don't recall. Probably something by 3TEETH. Have you ever been on a trapeze? Hell nah. Do you buy chocolate after Valentine’s Day when it goes on sale? No. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I met a poet at the psych hospital once. I also have an old friend who had something published in a magazine, I think. Do you own a polaroid camera? No, but I'd love to to take more ~aesthetic~ photographs sometimes. What is something you think is underrated? Snakes! :( They're not scary or gross, nor do they in any way deserve to be killed. I wish the worth of snakes was seen much more clearly. They are spectacular, intriguing animals. Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? Once it hits like 65*F, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? I hope beyond hope that I have a job I enjoy. And that I'm driving again. What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? I used to loooove video editing, but I've lost all motivation for it. Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? Somewhere we have this one stretchy thing that I have no idea what it's called, then there are two sets of small weights somewhere. Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? New York. Farthest south? Florida. East? Well, ya can't go more east in NC unless you want to drive into the ocean... lol. West? Illinois. If you have/want children, will you raise them similar to the way you were raised? If I had kids, I would in some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? Nothing strange, no. What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? I don't know. Not very high. Do you have an ebook reader? (iPad, Kindle, etc.) No. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? 2017, ig. What is the last random act of kindness you did? I guess you could consider a loving text to Sara a random act of kindness?

#survey #surveys #questions

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aaniiki · 4 years

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Something I wrote for @jimmyneutronfan4life I’m realizing how horribly out of practice I am, but I hope you still like it. I used some of my own headcanons.

Rating: K Word Count: 3182 Pairing: Jimmick

Nick kicked his skateboard up and caught it in his hands as he reached the end of Jimmy’s driveway. The sun had just begun to set and cast an orange hue over the neighborhood. He exhaled sharply as he walked up to the door, giving a quick look around the area to see if anyone was around, stopping momentarily at Cindy Vortex’s bedroom window. She was nosy. If she saw him there, she would surely ask about it the next day. Luckily for him, her curtains were drawn shut and her house seemed silent. He knocked a few times on the front door and waited for what seemed far too long until it was opened for him.

“Oh, Nick.” Jimmy stood in the doorway, a plate of food in hand and dressed in comfy sweats. He seemed momentarily confused until a light sparked behind his eyes in realization. “I’m sorry, I lost track on time. Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing Nick to cross through the doorway and into his home.

Nick looked around. Funny, he hadn’t stepped foot in Jimmy Neutron’s home since that party he’d thrown when they were in elementary school. As far as he could remember, not much had changed. “I’m glad you made it.” Jimmy spoke up behind him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Nick asked with a chuckle, leaning his skateboard up against the wall beside the door. Jimmy said nothing, just smiled softly. At that moment Nick realized the house otherwise seemed lifeless. “Your parents are out?”

Jimmy took a bite of the food he was holding. “Date night,” he answered. “They left right before you showed up. Gotta keep the romance alive, I guess.” He finished with a swallow.

“I guess.” Nick repeated. He actually thought that was kind of sweet. His parents didn’t do things like that, at least as far as he knew. They were just content with each other’s company, but that was about it.

“I’m sorry, do you want anything?” Jimmy asked, gesturing to his dinner. “There’s more than enough in the fridge.” Nick peered into the plate. Grilled chicken, veggies, some kind of brown rice and a orange sauce. No doubt a little kick of spice to it. Looked appetizing, but he was feeling antsy.

“No thanks,” he answered with a hand up in protest. “I had something on the way over.” If you want to call a questionable empanada from the gas station down the street ‘dinner’. Jimmy only shrugged and didn’t push further. He placed his dinner down and held a finger up to Nick, implying he’d be back in a minute. With that he ran up the stairs and head to what Nick could only assume was his bedroom.

He was alone. Nick felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest. It was an unusual, kind of irritating feeling. He wasn’t used to it. Letting another deep exhale escape him, he began an unsteady pace around the living room. He stopped when he reached the fireplace, which clearly hadn’t been used in some time. Framed pictures of the Neutron family decorated the mantle, spanning across years. They documented family outings and holidays, but most were Jimmy with various trophies and ribbons he had won from different contests and science fairs. Nick could not help but smile. They all seemed so normal. So happy. A true ideal of the all-American family. He had wondered how nice it might actually be to get a little closer to this family.

The sudden slamming of a door and the hurried steps down the staircase jerked Nick from his train of thought. Jimmy approached him, out of breath and handed him a small plastic case with the words Day of Vengeance II written sloppily across the top. “Here it is.”

Nick had almost forgotten why he even came here in the first place. Earlier in the week he’d somehow gotten caught up in conversation with Jimmy, and learned that, when he wasn’t inventing something ridiculous and possibly dangerous, he was able to use his state of the art technology to access impossible to find media and rip them on DVDs. He looked down at the disk and smiled. “This isn’t supposed to hit theaters for three more weeks.” He looked up, and met Jimmy’s gaze. “It’s really cool of you to do this for me, man.”

“It’s no big deal.” Jimmy shrugged, feeling a little bit proud of himself. Someone like Nick had been impressed with something he had done, and that doesn’t come around very often. “It’s actually fairly simple to hack into video feed from the Korean film festivals. Especially since they went from physical film to digital.” He laughed a little and raised a brow. “Nothing is ever truly offline anymore.”

Nick felt his breath catch in this throat and turned away, slipping the case into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. “Well, thanks.”

Jimmy’s expression faltered a bit, and he looked down at the floor. “I hope you enjoy it. I’ll have to give it a watch at some point.” The tone is his voice softened to sound almost sad.

There was a moment of silence between the two boys. Why does he have to use such a sad tone? Nick’s heart beat was singing in his ears. With a loud throat clear, he spoke out “if you’re up for it, we can watch it together.”

Jimmy’s head immediately shot up. “Right now?” A genuine smile spread across his face. Nick’s heart skipped.

Keeping composure, Nick relaxed a little and removed the disk from his pocket. “Totally. If you’re not busy causing chaos in that lab of yours.” Shaking his head, Jimmy took the disk from Nick’s hands and gestured to the couch for him to have a seat before starting it up on the television.

The sun had completely set at this point, and the TV was the only source of light. Nick could barely see as Jimmy came to the couch and sat beside him. “I was also able to get the deleted scenes and director’s commentary,” Jimmy started, reaching for his food he’d set down earlier. “If that interests you.”

It didn’t, but Nick wouldn’t tell him that. Something about his eagerness and unbridled joy made it hard for him to do so. “Thanks.” He sat back into the couch, the leather of his jacket making noisy friction with the fabric.

“You can take your jacket off.” Jimmy never took his eyes off the screen, but somehow still sounded very inviting. Nick obliged and threw it on the adjacent chair. The movie had only been on for a little over ten minutes, but to Nick it felt like days had passed. He wasn’t even fully paying attention. He could hear Jimmy’s light chewing and occasional soft chuckles when something funny had happened. The earlier feelings of slight paranoia crept back in. What if Jimmy told his friends that he sat alone in the dark with Nick Dean and watched a movie? Seems innocent enough to some, but not to Nick.

“Hey, Neutron…” He began, almost whispering. He felt a slight sweat begin the break. “Can you…” He adjusted himself and sat straight up. At this point he had Jimmy’s full attention. “Can you not tell anyone I was here tonight?” No matter how he thought about it, there was no way to request that without sounding like a complete jerk.

Jimmy froze. His features softened and he looked down at his lap. “Oh.” It wasn’t what he was expecting, but he should have. “That’s fine.” His response was short, and he looked back up trying to seem unbothered. No such luck.

A sudden pang of guilt washed over Nick as he saw how Jimmy reacted. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just-“

“No, I get it.” Jimmy cut him off, holding a hand up in his face. He raised his voice a little in defense. “I guess hanging out with me would damage your image.”

Jimmy’s words spat out like venom. In that moment Nick felt so unbelievably small. It’s true that he had managed to carry the cool and popular status all the way through to the beginning of high school. Even in a completely new building with dozens of new classmates, he never had any competition in that area. It wasn’t even something he tried to do intentionally, but it always just happened for him. He didn’t share many classes with Jimmy, considering the obvious gap in academic excellence between them, but he still considered him a friendly acquaintance. The fact that Jimmy thought of him as nothing more than an image to be kept honestly really hurt in that moment. He understood, though. At least, he tried to.

Jimmy took a deep breath, and realized that what he had said may have come out harsh. “Look, I know I’m not the most popular guy in school. So, no hard feelings. I promise.” His tone wasn’t the least bit convincing, but he refused to let his face show what he was really feeling.

“That’s not what I meant.” Nick responded in a soothing manner, trying to diffuse. He took in a sharp breath and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you know there’s been rumors about me…” His voice trailed off slightly, realizing he could never come back from what he was about to say.

Jimmy waited for a minute for him to continue, but nothing came out. He just shrugged. “Rumors?”

BZZZ….BZZZ

There’s no way Neutron didn’t know, Nick had thought. He must be jerking me along. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained eye contact with Jimmy, trying to read him.

BZZZ….BZZZ

Jimmy shook his head in protest. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. Like I said, I’m not that popular.”

BZZZ…BZZZ

“Please answer that.” Nick pressed his fingers to his temples. He was starting to stress himself out. He watched as Jimmy dug his phone out of his pocket and read the chain of messages that had interrupted their conversation. He didn’t mean to peek, but he saw that they were all from Cindy. Or rather, ‘Vortex’ with a flame emoji next to her name. It could be a jab at the fact that she’s such a hot headed inferno. Or maybe she ignited a fire within Jimmy.

Something in Nick hoped for the former.

Without replying, Jimmy put his phone back in his pocket. “Just Cindy,” he confirmed. “She left her notebook here.”

Oh. That was all Nick could think. He felt a sudden knot in his stomach. “You guys hang out?” He wasn’t sure why he asked that. An urge came over him. Jimmy nodded matter-of-factly at that. He’d thought it was obvious that him and Cindy still held a decent relationship through all the years that passed. Cindy would come over around the times of big exams, and they’d hole up in the lab to study. They were still able to salvage something from the ruins of their romantic relationship that had ended towards the end of Junior Highschool.

“Are you working things out again?” Nick asked bluntly, turning away from Jimmy and pretending to watch the television that had still been going in the background this whole time. A chill ran over him once the words left his lips. I should mind my own business.

Jimmy laughed audibly, caught off guard at that. He shook his head and held a hand to his mouth to stifle more laughing. “Absolutely not.” He finally answered, in the most confident tone Nick had probably ever heard from him.

“Why not? She’s cute.” Nick replied, digging a playful elbow into Jimmy’s side.

“Well, you can date her.”

There was a silence. Jimmy felt the energy in the room shift almost instantly as soon as he said that. He looked at Nick who had sunk back down into the couch and glued his eyes back on the television. They had been talking all this time, so there was no way he was retaining what this movie was about. It was just noise at this point. He was afraid he’d said something wrong, and let it be.

“So you really don’t know?” Nick had finally spoken up again after several minutes. “You really haven’t heard any rumors?”

“I swear on my lab.” Jimmy could hear Nick’s breathing become heavier, but he sat patiently and waited for him to speak.

“You heard about what happened with me and that cheerleader?”

After a moment of digging through his memories, Jimmy recalled a moment in time where Nick was regularly seen hanging around a pretty blonde cheerleader. Emma was her name? Heather? Jimmy couldn’t remember. He’d never really spoken with her, but he also never thought anything of it. Just Nick being friendly and popular with the girls, as always. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Nick around her much lately. “Sort of,” he answered, more like a question.

“She was a friend,” Nick began, “someone I was really close to. I cared about her a lot.” His sentence seemed to trail off, but then he noticed that Jimmy’s striking blue eyes were glued to him. “She wanted something more and I wasn’t interested, so I turned her down. Things escalated and she started a rumor that I-” his breath caught in his chest. His face turned hot and he felt his fingers trembling in his lap. “That I’m…into dudes.”

Though it felt good to get out, there was an uncomfortable stillness in the air. Jimmy never took his eyes off Nick, and he could feel them burning into the side of his face. “Why’d you turn her down?” Jimmy’s voice was serious, and curious. Nick felt in that moment that he was being studied, and he kind of hated it.

“Not my type.”

“Well, what is your type? Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen you with a girlfriend.”

Why is he looking at me like I’m one of his stupid experiments? Nick wasn’t sure how to answer that. He didn’t think Jimmy would be this invested. “I don’t know.” It was a lackluster response, but he was afraid of divulging too much.

"So...are you?" Jimmy's words filled the empty void of space between them in the darkness.

"Am I what?" The end of the sentence shot out sharply.

"Are you attracted to men?"

That was it. Nick's entire being felt like he'd been hit head on by a truck. It was a question he'd been struggling with for a while now.

“Whatever, dude.” Nick couldn’t think of anything else to say. He felt utterly defeated. He leaned back into the couch, as far away from Jimmy as he could manage without falling off.

“You brought it up.” Jimmy answered in a small snicker.

Studying his face, Jimmy could tell more and more that Nick was embarrassed and vulnerable. It was a heavy topic to put out in the world, especially to someone he didn’t know all too well. He felt a little pang of guilt in his chest for pushing. The only thing he could think to do was extend a hand out to his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Nick tensed up at the feeling of Jimmy’s hand on him. “You can tell me, you know.” Jimmy knew everything. Behind every rumor there had to be a little bit of truth, he figured.

“Hmm..” Nick only mused gently and slouched in his seat, almost collapsing into his own body out of sheer embarrassment.

“You can trust me.” Jimmy initiated, trying to lighten up the palpable tautness in the air. “I know we may not be extremely close, but I hope you know I wouldn’t…” His words trailed off. He’d stopped dead when Nick moved his hand and placed it gently on his own.

“I need to work it out myself.” Nick’s voice was trembling. He refused to meet Jimmy’s gaze, and his cheeks were flushed. Good thing it was still somewhat dark in the room.

Jimmy didn’t pull away. If anything he thought it good to be comforting in that moment. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, Nick.”

“I’m not ashamed.” Nick replied sternly. He really wasn’t. It was just a lot to handle in short time. He knew that his classmates may not be as accepting as Jimmy was right in that moment, and he didn’t feel like putting up with that for the remaining 3 years of high school. Even telling Jimmy was a risk, but he owed it to himself to let it out to someone. “I just want to be totally sure of myself before I say anything about it to anyone else.”

Jimmy decided it was best not to say anything. He looked down at Nick’s hand that was still positioned over his own and smiled. “You know, you’re still the coolest guy I know.” In a swift motion, he swapped places with Nick’s hand, earning a small gasp from him. “I don’t think any less of you.”

It was sincere. Nick knew that much. He felt his hand start to sweat a little under Jimmy’s touch, and drew it away. “Thanks, Neutron. I’m really surprised you’re not grossed out.” Nick gave a light hearted grin.

“Not at all. It’s perfectly natural and occurs in almost all living species.” Jimmy was practically giddy.

Of course he’d find a way to relate it to science. Nick caught himself smiling. He felt an indescribable heaviness lift from him. He’d shared something that had been weighing severely on his mind for a long time. He was supposed to just come here, grab a movie and leave. He probably would have just gone home and stew even further in his own thoughts.

“Hey, Nick?” Jimmy spoke, returning to his original crisscrossed position on the couch. “I really appreciate you telling me something so important to you.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me, dude.” Nick’s voice toughened a little, but he smile never faded.

“Did you completely lose track of what’s happening in this movie?” Jimmy questioned, turning to him with an almost cunning expression.

Nick only shook his head and exhaled. “I can just watch it at home.”

“Am I boring you?” Jimmy asked brazenly, already seizing the remote and stopping the film to return it to the first scene. Nick didn’t argue. He just sat back and watched as the opening titles flashed across the screen. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

Nick looked at him quizzically. “Huh?”

“You said you didn’t pursue a relationship with her because she wasn’t your type. What’s your type?” Jimmy never bothered to look at him, but he knew Nick had turned impossibly red.

Without even noticing he had done so, Nick scooted closer to Jimmy to where they were almost touching. He casually swung an arm over the back of the couch and relaxed, feeling the most content and sure of himself he’d had in quite a long time. “I think you’ll figure it out.”

#jimmy neutron #jimmy neutron: boy genius #jimmick #fanfiction #my works

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nadiawrites14 · 4 years

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voice of gen z

word count: 2784

for english class. tw for school shooting and police brutality mention

AN INTRODUCTION.

“GEN Z is too afraid to ask a waiter for extra ketchup but will bodyslam a cop.”

Dated June 5th, on Twitter. Many of us sit holed up in our rooms, laptops resting in our crossed legs as we scroll through social media, or the blue light of a phone screen on our face as the world around us is sleeping. Many of us are also the ones organizing, the ones leading, the ones fighting. News spreads that in Dallas, Providence, and in many more cities, teenagers were the ones organizing, the ones fighting. Teenagers were the ones turning viral memes into protest signs, organizing protests and sharing methods of resistance through apps like TikTok and Instagram. It echoes the methods of the Hong Kong protestors, using technology to battle their government head-on.

Teenagers who dance along to songs such as Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage”, as well as teens who live in the world of ‘deep-fried’ memes, whose bizarre absurdity reach ungodly levels of abstractism, are the ones leading in this young revolution. Teenagers are the ones who chant ‘no justice, no peace’ in filled city streets; teenagers are the ones working to create graphics and share information, a new form of armchair activism. K-pop fans fill conservative hashtags with videos of their favorite performers, burying rhetoric and dismissal of the protests with dances and songs. In hours, #BlackLivesMatter trends. It’s hard to believe that these new pioneers and leaders in activism and technology are children who are scared to give class presentations, share Juuls in bathrooms, and find humor in the most strange and ironic of places. While the old term goes that ‘the revolution will not be televised’ in many ways, this growing movement will be televised, publicized, expanded, through its own means and methods.

We are the generation of school shootings.

December 14th, 2012. My mom tells me, as I hobble out from the red doors of my elementary school in Stamford, Connecticut, that something very bad has happened. I don’t understand. Nobody does. I see the faces of startled adults. I don’t remember the rest of that evening, or the day that followed it. Every time I think about Sandy Hook, the senseless school shooting that left 28 dead, I think about the multicolored walls of my school’s hallway, my sneakers on the white linoleum, the fear in my mother’s voice and in her eyes. That day was the first day I began to accept that I was a child in the United States of America in the 21st century. That day, and the brutal and confusing months that followed it, solidified something in my peers and I. Not just in Stamford, or even Connecticut, but within all young American students. The people in power didn’t care that a gunman marched into a wealthy and predominantly white Connecticut neighborhood and slaughtered kindergarteners. Because as I grew older, I saw the patterns, the televisation of suffering and permitted slaughter among my peers, our youngest, our posterity. This was normalized to us, just another school shooting, another period of brief outrage followed by inaction. The slaughter of children, the preventable slaughter of children shouldn’t be normalized. But it was.

February 14th, 2018. A gunman kills 17 students in Florida. As I’m waiting in a doctor’s waiting room with my mother, I lean over and tell her, “On Monday, all my teachers will talk about is school shootings.” I was wrong. School was another silent funeral march, my teachers quiet and solemn as they assigned us our work and progressed with their work. At dinner with my dad, I tell him, “It’ll never change.”

That isn’t entirely true. Leaders are found in teenagers who now walk through haunted hallways with clear backpacks. They are the face of a new movement, a march for our lives. Many are summoned to Washington and elsewhere a month later to organize, to fight. On March 27th, a day meant for students to walkout and protest the preventable slaughter of students, my school barricades the doors.

No legislation is passed. Nothing changes. The resistance lulls and fades, despite a number of school shootings following the tragedy at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Gen Z is a symbolic Sisyphus, haplessly pushing a boulder of pleas up a mountain of indifference.

II.

Suzanne Collins published the Hunger Games on September 14th, 2008. It finds its way into the hands of teenagers of all shapes and sizes years later, and it has its cult following. Maybe the televised murder of children strikes a chord within the audience of young adults, as does the story of a growing revolution and a coup against a selfish government.

Gen Z gets its hands on theory at a young age, through Wikipedia and the uncensored vastness of the internet that we are handed. We are denoted as the generation born with the phones in our hands, but all I can remember is having a technology class from a young age, where we were measured on our abilities to type and memorize a keyboard. Our ability to cite and surf and stay safe in the face of danger. This wealth of information at our fingertips molds us.

Dystopian fiction is popular among young teens and young adults. Titles like Divergent the Giver, Harry Potter, the Maze Runner, all influence the devouring young readers. We are raised to see atrocity, in a place where atrocity is accessible to us in every way, shape and form. We are exposed and we are no longer innocent as we rise to 6th, 7th, 8th grade. Girls wear makeup for the first time and scream at the sight of bloodstained underwear. Boys become privy to the joy of video games and self-exploration. In this time, the internet truly consumes. There is no more script taught in classrooms, whiteboards have been replaced with Prometheans, and chromebooks are becoming normalcy.

In 7th grade I receive my phone. The niches and underground media I discover shape me. I find acceptance, friends, in places where I had lacked them before. As my classmates begin to enter into weeklong flings that end in Instagrammed tragedy, I take a quiz online to find out if I’m gay. I begin to think for myself, and I find independence and a voice on internet circles.

By the time we are promoted to high school, something has shifted. Something is different. Something’s coming, something good. Gen Z keeps calm and carries on.

III.

Donald Trump is inaugurated on January 20th, 2017, to much outrage, but also to much support. In my town, there is a protest around his building that overlooks much of our city center. It’s peaceful, energetic, and beautiful. A Planned Parenthood sticker is on my bedroom door, and I have accepted that maybe, just maybe, I’m into girls.

In 2018, we are in high school. Little fish in a big pond. I don’t have friends in my grade, but stick closer to my premade friends in the Class of 2021. My teachers are lovely, kind, and supportive, and I shine in this new environment. Politics is a force in my life as I begin to write, and as I begin to form opinions and do research.

It’s easy to say that all of Gen Z is progressive, but this isn’t true. It’s actually very incorrect. The internet is a miraculous tool, one that can provide and produce and create new forms of communication and spread new ideas. But it is still an ocean that is widely uncharted, and young teenagers will fall into holes constructed by right-wing superstars. The racism and homophobia circulated by 4chan is on the internet for anybody to see. New popular figures and icons pledge their vote to Trump. Right-wing rhetoric overtakes in the forms of Ben Shapiro, Pewdiepie, 4chan, Reddit. There’s a neutrality to all things, but the dogwhistles and the normalization of prejudice are dangerously overbearing. As the 2016 election divided our country, it divides the new generation. A divided house cannot stand, and that is for certain.

It is around this time, in my Freshman summer, where the politics makes a crescendo. I have broken 1K followers on my Instagram art account, where I draw fanart for a variety of musicals and plays. I discover Shakespeare, and lose myself in Hamlet. I am happy with my identity and with myself, and as the 2020 election nears, I stay informed on current events, common issues, the things that need changing.

Sophomore winter. My dad and I take two-hour drives spanning Connecticut, and we talk. He says, “You know, your generation’s fucked. You’re the ones who are going to have to cope with our mistakes.” I tell him I know. I tell him about my feelings towards racial injustice in America, the battle for a higher minimum wage against growing costs, issues in healthcare, housing, poverty, climate change, all thrown aside and discarded. Our generation, of course, when most of our white and male politicians are dead and buried, will have to deal with the repercussions of rising sea levels and global temperatures, volatile weather and crippling natural disasters, all overlooked due to blatant ignorance. “You guys are going to have to fix all of this.”

“I know.”

I’m sick of the battle being placed on the backs of teenagers. I’m sick of our faces being the fight for climate change, the faces of Greta Thunberg and Emma Gonzalez and young revolutionary congresswomen being mocked and heckled by throngs of keyboard warriors. I’m sick of the battle our leaders and representatives should be fighting being placed on our backs, when we are already our own Atlas. Ignorance is dangerous, biting, and overwhelming. We look back to the images and words we were raised upon, the story of the Hunger Games and the broadcasting of school shootings for us all to see.

It is 2020. Happy new year! I watch from my living room as the ball drops. A brief Twitter moment about a newly discovered disease pops up in my recommended, I brush over it. Photographs of Australian fires are surfaced, and we joke about what a fantastic start it is to the year.

Sisyphus reaches a fork in the road.

MMXX.

At around 11PM on Wednesday, March 11th, I send a strongly worded letter to the principal and local superintendent. The coronavirus has picked up worldwide, and has made its way into the states. Johns Hopkins has an interactive map that shows bubbles above cities where cases have been reported. Stamford, Connecticut Dead: 0

Recovered: 0 Active: 3.

New York’s cases are on the rise. On that same day, I began to realize the severity that would soon overtake us. I spent the afternoon first at what would be our last rehearsal for our school musical, James and the Giant Peach, and then I went to the library. I did my homework, read The Cripple of Inishmaan by Martin McDonagh, then bought a Subway cookie from the mall. I always keep a copy of King Lear in my backpack, and as my dad pulls up to the sidewalk I gloss over Edmund’s first monologue.

It’s the last normal day for a while.

March 12th comes in like a lion. In my first period class, civics, a classmate yells out, “Trump 2020!” A period later, my friend pulls me aside in the hallways, and asks if I heard that school was closing.

“It can’t be true,” I said.

“Schadlich just showed us.”

I take my route to my next class, and find the hallway a chaotic mess of energy and camaraderie. What was meant to be kept under wraps has been instantly transferred across the student body over Snapchat stories and texts. People dance, sing, hug. It’s branded as a “Coronacation.” Broadway announces its closure, and I walk out of the front doors for the final time in my sophomore year.

Once again, ignorance overtakes. Within months, the death toll skyrockets, spikes, as we stay holed up in our online classes. My focus wavers, but I press on. Many other students resort to simply neglecting their work, choosing to take this time to focus on their own health or fill up their new time with their own hobbies. Teenagers find solace in each other, through social media and through the connections we’ve built online. As ignorance mounts among our leaders, teenagers jokingly refer to Covid-19 as the famous “Boomer Remover”. It trends on Twitter. Graduation, prom, is cancelled. The generation whose childhood began with 9/11 is once again cut short by a tragedy of preventable errors. Gen Z is subject to adapting once again to an unfamiliar environment, and we undertake.

Protests take over the streets, screaming against government tyranny. The deaths crescendo to nearly 100,000. A video surfaces of a young black man, Ahmaud Aubery, being publicly killed on a road while jogging. Ignorance continues as cases spike, and the political climate is ripe for change. On May 25th, a black man from Minneapolis named George Floyd is killed in a brutal act of suffocation by a policeman. More names resurface -- Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Joao Pedro. Names neglected to injustice are once again in the limelight -- Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Terence Crutcher, Atatiana Jefferson, and more.

Sisyphus has had enough of pushing the boulder, and Sisyphus takes to the streets. It is the perfect storm. A storm fueled by ignorance and the preventable death of thousands, by decades of injustice, by the mere political climate in the United States of America. Gen Z, our generation, my generation, has lived the darkest hour. We were born at the cusp of a millenia, in an awkward position where society has begun to find its footing in an unfamiliar time. A time of domestic and overseas terrorism, shaped by 9/11 and a countless number of school shootings and slaughtered people of color. Where the new generation has accessibility to the injustice and wrongs committed by those before and those above, right at our fingertips. We have new ways to organize, new ways to televise, new ways to fight. In our armchairs and in our streets, wearing masks as we hold up our hands in surrender.

Generation Z marches. They lead. They throw tear gas back at officers with no hesitation. They create chants, organize through grassroots, and find a chorus of support online.

Generation Z leads. As politicians and leaders sit in ivory towers, like President Snow in Panem, our generation cries for change. We witness and feel the repercussions of their ignorance in our daily lives, from cuts to education to the publication of school shootings to the absence of American atrocity in our history textbooks to a pipeline that directs BIPOC and low-income students to prison or the military as they step off the graduation stage. Each year, our winters get warmer as our summers turn boiling. The preventable pile of corpses rises in front of us, and we have been taught to sit by and let it occur while the world burns.

No longer.

Sisyphus steps aside and allows the boulder to descend down the mountain. They are bruised, bloodied, their palms calloused and scuffed and their feet lacerated and sore. Up ahead, shrouded by clouds, is the mountaintop. Sisyphus wipes their mouth, finds their footing, and begins the march.

A CONCLUSION.

We have a future.

It’s awfully dim right now. Barely a light at the end of the tunnel. We began a dead march towards it from the moment we were born into this decaying way of life, held together with glue and string by leaders with fumbling hands and staunch indifference. Our backs are tired, and we are barely adults. Generation Z is tired of fighting a fight that shouldn’t be theirs. How desperately we still crave childhood joy and humor and innocence.

Change is necessary. It is something that is especially necessary in our time. We can no longer let people die because they can’t afford food or medicine or housing. Students cannot go into school wondering if it will be their last day. Black people should not fear for their lives while wearing a hoodie, driving, jogging in their neighborhood, shopping, or sleeping in their own homes. Elderly white men which encompass most of our political elite can no longer sit on their hands as their population suffers.

The voice of Generation Z screams louder than anything else. It screams in its silence, its activism, its useless martyrdom and battle. Change belies itself within our voice, and it has gone unheard for too long.

Change is the voice of Generation Z.

#writing #writeblr #essay #english #how else do i tag this #my writes #gen z #ashbfkbskdk #i just wanted to put this out into the world for eyes other than my english teacher #xoxo at the 2 ppl who follow my account

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