#also I’ve had 2 concussions in the last 5 months so brain don’t work so good rn
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me at work all day: man i can’t WAIT to get home & work on this chapter, i have so many ideas. whew i wanna write so bad!
me as soon as i get home: mmmnnnnnhhreerruuuuaaahhuughghaaugh
#fanfiction#writing#also I’ve had 2 concussions in the last 5 months so brain don’t work so good rn#mom is doing better tho#I mean still dying cuz terminal illness lol#BUT mentally she’s feeling quite a bit better
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Walk Me Home - Ch 9
Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.
Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension.
Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning
Word Count: 3168
Author’s Note: Coming up on the end. Hope you guys have enjoyed this ride as much as I did. One chapter to go after this. All my thanks to @mskathywriteswords , @fangirlxwritesx67, and @cracksinthewalls for all your magnificent help. Also, random, the theme song for this chapter is “These Dreams,” by Heart. Just for fun.
Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!
Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.
In Case You Missed It:
Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8
ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist
Chapter 9
Kimber’s hands fly up, clenching on the wrist in front of her throat, and the blade twitches in warning. Pain stings the side of her neck, her fingers contract, and a trickle of warmth drips down to her shoulder.
Before she can speak, Dean is in front of them, gun drawn and face murderous.
“Let her go.”
Laughter, broken and mocking, shakes against her back. Kimber’s vision grays at the edges, and she forces herself to slow her breathing. She focuses on the sting of the cut, slamming her eyes shut to block out the fear she can read in Dean’s eyes.
“She’s mine, can’t let her go. Just got her. Been lookin’ for so long. Her blood is mine, that’s the rule.” The witch’s voice goes from rough to reedy and back, pitch wobbling all over the place. “Gonna spill this pretty blood. You’re a hunter, you can help. Like she helped the other hunter. Spilled our blood. Took...took...”
Kimber shudders unconsciously, and the witch yanks her left arm back, fingernails digging into the flesh just above her elbow. A strangled yelp escapes her throat, and Kimber bites down on her lip.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“Back up,” the witch barks suddenly. Dean’s eyes flash, nostrils flaring, but he doesn’t move.
“Ain’t happening, asshole. Let her go. I’m not sayin’ it again.” The hammer clicks on Dean’s gun, and the witch adjusts his grip, pulling her more firmly in front of him. The knife presses again, slicing deeper this time, and Kimber‘s focus slips. The trickle becomes a steadier stream, and she opens her eyes to see Dean’s cheek twinge above his clenched jaw.
He never lowers his aim as he steps carefully back. Kimber is shoved forward, knuckles white on the man’s wrist. Her heart thumps painfully against her ribs as she racks her brain.
I know this, I know what to do, I can get out of this, I can, I just-
“Good boy,” the witch says. The manic glee in his voice sets Kimber’s nerves on edge, clearing a little of the panic from her thoughts. “So good at taking directions. Much better than her. Shoulda taken you up on the roof, she coulda watched you jump. Would’ve been fun. So...fun.”
White-hot fury lances through her fear, burning the last traces of it from her mind, and she remembers exactly how to get out of this hold. She widens her eyes, mouth tight, staring a hole at Dean. It takes a second for him to turn his glaring attention from the witch, but he finally meets Kimber’s gaze.
She has never wished so hard in her life to be a telepath as she does right now.
Please understand, Dean, she thinks with all her might, her eyes flicking down and to the side before meeting his again. Please be ready.
She can distract the witch, can get out of the way, but she can’t kill him, and she has no idea if he has another spell ready. They’ve got one chance.
“Gonna have some more fun with you two. Messy fun. Had fun with her friends, so many stairs, so many staples.” He holds the last word out, elongating it, and the hairs on Kimber’s neck stand on end. “Make you have fun with each other, gonna get messy. Don’t need a hex bag this time, can just-”
Kimber jerks down on the knife-wielding hand, pulling it towards her left hip. She ducks her head back and shoves her shoulder into the witch’s chest, knocking him off kilter. Her right hand arcs back, completing the circle and shoving the witch’s hand, knife and all, straight into his side. He throws his head back, howling, and a deafening bang fills the room. Pain explodes in Kimber’s ears, and the witch drops, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
Kimber blinks, her head spinning, and then Dean is in front of her, his hands holding the sides of her face steady. His mouth opens, he’s speaking, but she can’t hear anything over the clanging in her ears.
Her eyes stray down to the body on the floor, waiting for it to move. They need to leave, need to get away while they can, but she can’t make her legs work right. Her knees are locked, and the room is swaying.
No, that’s not right. She’s swaying. She should probably sit.
Then she’s on the bed, and Dean kneels down in front of her, pressing a cloth to the side of her neck. She sucks in a breath, and the pain shocks her brain back into focus. He speaks again, but she can’t understand him.
“We have to go, he’s going to get back up-” But Dean holds up a hand, shaking his head and frowning. He opens his mouth again, sucking in a breath like he’s going to shout, but then stops. He lifts her hand to the cloth on her neck, indicating for her to hold pressure while he rises.
He glances around and snatches a pad of paper and pen from the bedside table. He scribbles quickly and holds the pad up in front of her. Her eyebrows lift in amazement as she reads “witch killing bullets.”
“Seriously?” He nods, then flips the paper and scribbles again.
“Not used to gunfire?” the pad says. She shakes her head, then immediately regrets the action. The room spins, and then Dean is supporting her, steadying her before she hits the floor. He holds her upright for a few moments until she regains her balance, then he waves to get her attention.
He tilts his head towards the door, eyebrows lifted. She closes her eyes, concentrating, and forces her legs to cooperate, pushing up until she’s able to walk unsteadily, leaning hard against Dean. She feels colder than the seasonal temperature calls for, and she shivers hard against him.
Shock, she realizes. Yeah, I’m pretty sure…
The next thing she knows, they’re in Dean’s car, and she’s leaning against the window, her cheek chilled and damp on the glass. Dean’s jacket is draped over her, and she can make out the rumble of the engine and Dean’s voice, responding to someone she can’t hear.
Phone? her worn out brain offers. She yawns, and a dull throb ripples through her ears instead of the usual popping. She winces, and a warm hand slides over hers.
“Can you hear me, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” she says slowly, working her jaw carefully against the ache in her ear canals. “But it’s kind of muffled. Am I gonna need a hearing aid now?”
“No, honey,” he sighs, his relief mixed with exasperation. “One gunshot near your head, you’ll be fine. Wasn’t even a high enough caliber for concussive damage.”
“Oh.” She thinks for a minute, her brain still a little sluggish. “Can I go home, now, though? Because I’d really like to change clothes.” To her growing dismay, she realizes that one side of her is splattered with blood and...something else.
Not to mention her own blood staining her shoulder. Her shirt is definitely beyond saving.
“Sam, check out the motel, see if you can find a car or anything. Maybe we’ll get a clue about who this asshole actually was. I’ll check back in with you.” He disconnects the call and glances at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Think maybe we should get you some stitches for that cut.”
“I have butterfly bandages and pajamas at home,” she counters, feeling mulish. It has been a hell of a night, a hell of a week, and a hell of a month. Her stalker is dead, she’s feeling more disgusting by the second, and she wants to sleep for a year, at least. After the world’s hottest, longest shower, that is.
Dean frowns, his eyebrows drawing down as he prepares to dig his heels in. That’s when Kimber pulls out her trump card.
“I’ve got a Sara Lee deep dish apple pie in the freezer. Can have it hot out of the oven in about an hour.” She wants to laugh as Dean’s foot presses down on the accelerator, but she settles instead for leaning her leaden head on his shoulder and letting her eyes drift shut. The last thing she feels is his arm pulling her just a little closer.
“I got you.”
“I know.”
…
When they arrive at Kimber’s house, the first order of business is a shower (after putting the pie in the oven, of course). True to her earlier promise, Kimber scrubs every inch of Dean’s back, wishing distantly that she was in a better frame of mind to enjoy the experience. Really, though, neither of them are up for any more than tired smiles and rinsing of suds.
She throws on the jeans and tshirt that are lying on top of her hamper, too thrashed to search for anything else. When they reconvene in the kitchen, the oven still shows eighteen minutes left on the timer. Though Dean took pains during their shower to carefully clean the cut on her neck, he insists on fully inspecting it in better lighting. She’s too worn out to argue, so she drags out her first aid kit and drops into a chair.
She’s surprised at how comfortable the silence between them is. He cleans the cut again with peroxide this time before smearing a thin line of antibiotic ointment. She thinks he mutters something about “dirty witches,” but she’s so tired at this point she doesn’t completely catch it. Her hearing is more or less back to normal, although she keeps having to shake off the sensation that there’s water in her ears.
“Sam’s back at the motel, checking to see if the guy had a car, anything to give us an idea of what his damage was.”
She nods slowly, thoughts swirling in one too many directions. “He said...something about another hunter, me helping another hunter. I checked my notes, though, I don’t…”
“He said a lot of crazy shit, guy was unhinged.” Dean’s voice is hard, his eyes tight as he places butterfly strips along the side of her neck. “Probably not the best idea to revisit all of it just now.”
Gonna have some more fun with you two. Messy fun.
Kimber’s stomach lurches, and saliva pools in the back of her mouth.
“Don’t you throw up on me, I just got clean. I’m not missing out on pie just ‘cause you can’t keep the contents of your stomach to yourself.”
She laughs, just as he intended, broken out of her toxic train of thought.
“You’re right, I know you’re right. There’s much better things to think about tonight. We can go over all the gory details in the morning.” She raises her hand to stifle a yawn, and Dean catches her wrist, pulling her arm out straight to examine it. His eyebrows lower as he frowns at the line of crescent-shaped gouges on her arm just above her elbow.
“That was where he grabbed my arm. I guess his nails dug in?”
Dean actually clicks his tongue against his teeth and reaches for the peroxide again. When he glances up at her, she can’t hide her amusement from his observant eyes.
“What?” he asks, indignant. “Human fingernails are some of the filthiest things on the planet. And that guy was a witch, no telling what kinds of nasty he’s been diggin’ in. Now hush.”
“Yes, sir.”
The timer for the pie goes off a few minutes later, and Kimber makes the executive decision that a huge slice of shared apple pie with ice cream is more than enough of a balanced dinner for the two of them. She rinses off the plate in the sink while Dean cleans up the scraps from their impromptu doctoring. She sets the plate in the drying rack and turns to find him watching her, one corner of his mouth curled fondly.
“Bed?”
“Bed.”
She excuses herself to the bathroom to brush her teeth and slip into something a little more comfortable. She finishes by wrapping her bathrobe around her middle and tying the belt. When she enters the bedroom, she finds her comforter in a discreet pile on the far side of the room, and Dean reclining on the sheets, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs.
She opens her closet and pulls a spare blanket down from the top shelf. Dean slides off the bed, reaching out to take the blanket when his phone rings from the bedside table. She nods at the phone and shakes the blanket out while he answers.
“Sam found the guy’s car. Wants to know if you want to come check it out.” Dean raises his eyebrows at Kimber. She straightens and looks him dead in the eyes, then unties her robe and lets it drop from her shoulders to puddle around her feet.
His eyes widen, and his voice turns distracted. “Gonna pass tonight, Sam, but you save some of those juicy clues for us tomorrow, ‘kay?”
He hangs up, sets his phone on the bedside table, and turns the covers down. Then he throws himself onto the bed and holds his arms out to Kimber, his eyes sparkling.
“I have to say, Dr. Harper, I never imagined a distinguished college professor would own a set of pajamas like that.”
She switches off the light and slides into bed, her back fitting to his front, the last piece of a puzzle locking into place. His hands begin to roam over her fleece pants, exploring the soft material. She yawns again, letting her head loll back to rest against his collarbone.
“Gotta tell me where you managed to find Sasquatch pajamas; I know exactly what I need to get Sam for Christmas.”
She giggles through another yawn, then turns in his embrace. In the dim light of her room, the green of his eyes is lost to the darkness, but the faint smile on his lips...that she can see just fine.
Their kiss is slow, soft, and sleepy, and she allows herself two more before settling into the crook of his neck.
“Dean?”
“Mmm.” His voice is just as gone as hers. His fingers, having found their way under the edge of her pajama top, are stroking over the small of her back as he drifts off.
“Is this what it’s always like for you and Sam? For hunters?”
The quiet stretches on long enough that she thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then he shifts and clears his throat.
“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s better; easier cases, less gun shots, maybe a spell or two thrown around. But you know the lore, you work with hunters. It’s usually a lot worse.” He leaves his sentence there, obviously not willing to elaborate at the moment.
“On the other hand,” he adds a minute later, his voice thick with fatigue and another emotion she’s sure she’d be able to place if she were properly awake, “I don’t get to end every hunt like this, so that definitely counts for something.”
It definitely does, she thinks.
…
“You gotta pull the knife-hand towards your outside hip, then swing your head and shoulder at the same time, hit me hard as you can,” Dean coaxed patiently. They had spent most of sixth period study hall actually studying today, so Dean decided they needed to work on something else after school.
During their second tutoring session, Kimber learned that despite his willingness to be tutored by a girl, he chafed a little at the concept of receiving said tutoring without offering anything in return, so he suggested showing her some self-defense moves.
“In case the star quarterback ever gets any ideas that you’re not cool with,” he grinned. She rolled her eyes but accepted his proposition anyway. It meant coming into close, physical contact with Dean, for one. And it never hurt to be prepared, after all.
They went through the move again, Dean holding a stick to her neck in place of the knife. He made her work through it until she could pull off the maneuver without the sting of bark on her skin, until she managed to jab the stick hard enough against his side for him to wince in real discomfort.
The pleased smile he turned on her as he clutched his ribs made her toes tingle.
“I don’t see me using this kind of a move anytime soon, but it’s definitely good to know,” she admitted, picking up her denim jacket. The days had begun cooling off lately, fall making its presence abundantly known, and she shivered in the breeze as she zipped all the way up to her collar.
“You never know,” he agreed. He picked up her backpack, hanging it over his shoulder. “You could be set upon by anything: a pickpocket, a bank robber, a lone vampire looking for a snack. There’s no telling when that move could help you.”
“I doubt the vampire part, or even the bank robber, but yeah. I know a couple of people who’ve been mugged who could’ve used your expert training.” He slung his free arm around her shoulder, and they headed across the park.
“There are all sorts of critters out there that could creep up on you,” he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Vamps are just one of a hundred, and one of the ones most likely to go for the neck.”
“One of a hundred,” she repeated. She was intrigued by the mention of monsters, had always loved reading old ghost stories and legends, but surely there couldn’t be that many monster stories in the world.
“I’ll trade you stories for pie,” he said. She shot him a skeptical glance, and he gave her an exaggerated, stern face. “I never joke about pie, and I know stories that would make your hair curl. Satisfaction guaranteed.”
“Okay,” she finally agreed. “But we’re talking at least three stories for one piece of pie.”
“Two stories and another self-defense lesson.”
Later on, as they stood outside her front door, she smiled shyly up at him, her cheeks warm despite the drop in temperature.
���I would have gotten you the pie just for another self-defense lesson,” she admitted, marveling at how he made her feel timid and brave all at once. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone, tucking a stray strand of hair out of his way. He pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth, not even long enough for her eyes to flutter shut. His smile, when he straightened, was soft and genuine.
“I would have traded the stories for the same.”
…
Kimber wakes, turning in Dean’s arms. It’s still dark out, nothing is out of place. She settles against him, her lips pressing against his collar bone.
“‘S’matter?” His words are slurred, muffled by her hair, and his arms tighten for a moment. She can feel the stretch rippling down the length of him, and that hidden spot in her chest spreads out, sending tendrils of soothing warmth through every part of her.
“Not a thing. Goodnight, Dean.”
“Night, sweetheart.”
…
Chapter 10
#SPN#spn fic#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#dean winchester#original character#original female character#Sam Winchester#teen dean#teen sam#teen winchesters#drama#romance#witchcraft#still no wizardry#angst#teen romance#high school romance#high school sweethearts#nearly done#yay fall
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100 - Julie and the Phantoms Prompts
In honor of my favorite holiday and one of my more recent obsessions, I have been posting fic prompts over on the Julie and the Phantoms Discord server (https://discord.gg/2WC6GD23UT). Today I reached a milestone of 100 prompts and decided to masterpost them here.
Some of these are fluffy, but many are angsty/whumpy, but they’re all ones that have popped off in my brain in the last month or so. Many are of the guys and Julie, but they’re are prompts for pretty much every character. I’ve done my best to put triggers before the actual prompt, but if I’m missing any, please let me know.
These are free to use, however, I do ask that you tag me or send me a message if you decide to fill one since I would love to read it and add it to this list. <3
Prompt 1: *Triggers - Body Horror* The Phantoms feed off of Julie’s energy to stay corporeal. The more energy, the longer they can stay visible and the easier they can interact with everyone. At first, it’s really great. The guys get to meet everyone officially and things are looking up. But, Julie is having a harder time staying awake and keeping it together. She feels guilty since she loves how the guys are able to enjoy themselves. She doesn’t want to end that for them. Eventually, she can’t keep up anymore and tells them what’s going on. Queue cuddle time to recharge and talk it all out. They decide to slowly build up Julie’s abilities. Bonus: ALL THE CUDDLES
Prompt 2: What if Julie knew Caleb outside of the guys (maybe history with her mom)? What if she considered him family and didn’t realize he was the one causing issues with the guys? They run into each other when Caleb comes after the Orpheum performance expecting the band to take his deal. Julie: “Uncle Caleb?” “Julie?!”
Prompt 3: *Triggers - Nightmare* Julie has a night terror after the Orpheum performance, thinking the guys are gone. She runs into the studio and the guys are all there sleeping/napping. She breaks down, and just grabs onto them and won’t let go. They all cuddle her to calm her down, telling her they are still there. They all fall asleep on the couch.
Prompt 4: *Triggers - Child Neglect, Child Mental Abuse, & Anxiety* There’s more to Alex’s story with his family than what Luke said. They don’t just disapprove of him; they outright pretend he doesn’t exist. It gets to a point where he completely breaks down in the studio after having a bad practice day (the kind of day where nothing is going right). Being a ghost, is like what his family did to him, but on a much bigger scale. It’s much harder to deal with... Just want the band to comfort him, please?
Prompt 5: *Triggers - Mental Health* Reggie really, really wants to be able to interact with Julie’s family. Now that they can touch her, he shyly asks if they can officially meet them. “If that’s ok?” “It’s just they..” She beams and says, “ Of course.” Reggie just hugs her super tight with watery eyes.
Prompt 6: *Triggers - Murder* The hotdog’s weren’t rancid; they were poisoned. Why did someone want Sunset Curve dead? (Not Bobby/Trevor)
Prompt 7: With all the new found fame for “Julie and the Phantoms”, the band starts amassing quite a fan following. One particular “fan” thinks Julie doesn’t deserve/is good enough to be playing with them. They’re determined that she needs to go. #ProtectiveGhosts.
Prompt 8: Hanging out with the boys has some perks (especially since they can now touch). With practice, the guys can do a lot more than just poof away. So, they decide to use more ghostly tricks on Julie in their set/show. Julie phasing through the boys like in Bright, teleporting her to different areas of the stage, helping her with magical costume changes?
Prompt 9: Ray decides he needs to meet the boys, especially after that performance. If nothing else, he just wants to thank them for saving his daughter and his family. When he does meet them (and catches the little things they say about their families), he decides to officially/unofficially adopt them into the family. There is no way he can let any child (let alone these ones) think that no adult is in their corner.
Prompt 10: The boys being involved with Julie’s family. Simple things like helping set up the dinner table (spots for all of them and Julie’s mom) and talking about their day. Cue, Tia Victoria showing up and being condescending/rude to the family. So, the boys decide a little payback is in order. Meanwhile, the Molinas just sit there and are like “What are you talking about? We didn’t see/hear anything?”.. #TheBoysDon’tPutUpWithThat
Prompt 11: *Triggers - Physical Abuse* - Julie notices things are off with “Nick”. She can’t explain it, but she knows something isn’t right with him. He’s asking all sorts of questions about the Phantoms, asking who are they, how did you meet, how does it work, etc. Julie tries to brush him off with short answers, but, “Nick” is persistent and he wants what he wants. “Nick” eventually gets fed up with playing nice and grabs Julie’s arms hard enough to leave bruises. Julie gets away after a few moves (there’s no way that girl doesn’t have some killer martial arts moves). She shows up to practice with angry tears. The guys ask what’s wrong, but tells them it’s nothing and tries to start practice. Luke holds her arm and she hisses while taking a half step back. The guys are shocked when Luke pulls up her sleeve and they see the finger-shaped bruises. #ProtectiveGhosts #PissedOffGhosts
Prompt 12: *Triggers - Bullying* What if people did notice Julie talking to thin air? She’s shunned/bullied by everyone at school including Flynn (Julie never gets to sing “Flying Solo” to her). It gets so bad that she runs away after an exceptionally bad day. The boys try to convince her to go home, but she refuses. Feeling guilty, they decide to watch out for her. So, her new life a mix of epic shows at night with the guys, but the reality is she’s still homeless on the streets of LA. Eventually her dad and brother find her (and with some words from the boys about their own regrets), they all take her home.
Prompt 13: *Triggers - Bullying* One of Carrie’s dancers decides to pick on Julie about her mom, thinking it will put them in better standing with Carrie. Unfortunately for them, that type of “attack” on Julie was the one thing that Carrie won’t stand for. Because even if Carrie and Julie aren’t friends any more, they have a mutual/silent agreement that their moms are off limits. Carrie apologizes to Julie for the attack and says she knows better. They don’t magically end up best friends again, but they’re no longer enemies.
Prompt 14: *Triggers - Murder* The line in “fit to kill” from “You Got Nothing To Lose” stirs up some ideas because what if Caleb was responsible for the boys deaths? After all, he does seem fixated on them... Maybe he just wants them as more ghosts for his club or as a part of his house band? Maybe it’s more their potential? Either way, the boys ruined his plans by not showing up for 25 years… Good thing he had Willie keep an eye out for them… But then again, he did bargain with Willie for his freedom in exchange for theirs.
Prompt 15: *Triggers - Child Neglect & Abuse* What if Julie’s family were the opposite from cannon because they blame her for her mother’s death? … If only, Julie hadn’t needed a ride from voice lessons and a reckless driver was actually paying attention… Julie connects with the boys on another level since none of them have good families. They become each other’s found family instead.
Prompt 16: There are consequences for using the likenesses of the deceased. What happens when Julie and the Phantoms get CEASE & DESIST notices from the boys’ families? What do they do since they can’t play/preform?
Prompt 17: Julie and Flynn think it’s time that the boys got some new clothes and personal items. Queue ghostly shenanigans at the mall/stores with all three of them.
Prompt 18: Actual Witch Julie! She meant to summon her mom (also a witch), but accidently summoned the guys. Oops. She tries again using part of “Wake Up” lyrics to talk to her mom, but it doesn’t go anywhere… Julie’s best gift is her voice, good thing she’s working on her enchanting skills.
Prompt 19: *Triggers - Injury* Concussion – Julie has an accident and has some retrograde amnesia of the last few months, meaning she doesn’t remember meeting the guys. How do you explain to someone that you’re ghosts, but only you can see them unless you’re preforming together? “Like how?! That doesn’t make any sense?!” Just want the guys trying a couple of different ways to convince her, but Julie is being stubborn. Think first scene of them together, but more denial and more of “Stop talking to them. They’re not real. There’s no such thing as cute ghosts.”
Prompt 20: Comic Con?! Julie and the Phantoms go to Comic Con (either as guests or maybe as performers?). They’re all super excited, but Reggie can’t contain himself. How can he with all the costumes, the artists, and the actors. Hello?! “There’s so much to see!” Plus, how much mischief can they get into? 😉
Prompt 21: Rules/Boundaries – You know how Julie keeps mentioning boundaries and the guys keep breaking them? She decides to come up with a list to keep in the studio… Honestly, I would just like to see little moments where the guys keep breaking Julie’s rules. Could be a 5+1 fic, where most of them are comedic, but the last one is gut-wrenching?
Prompt 22: What if Julie was more physically connected to the guys? Like when she’s sick, they’re sick, etc. And what if they start showing signs of aging like their hair getting longer as months go by? What does that mean?
Prompt 23: Julie starts experiencing shooting chest pains. At first, she brushes it off, but they’re getting worse. During practice, she gets another one, only this time she can’t take in a breath. Can the boys help her?
Prompt 24: When the guys are “preforming” at Caleb’s club, Julie goes looking for them. When she finds them, she can tell they’re in trouble and decides to crash the party. She helps free the guys and everyone else from Caleb’s clutches with a musical number of her own. Without the other ghosts feeding his abilities, Caleb fades away into nothing.
Prompt 25: Birthdays – Would love to see everyone else’s birthday moments, but with Julie and the Molina family? Maybe a little angst since I don’t think Reggie or Alex’s family really celebrated theirs and here are the Molinas stepping up for some boys who are eternally 17?
Prompt 26: *Triggers - Body Horror, Human Remains, Murder* The guys are feeling pain again, but it’s all over, and it feels - different and wrong. It takes a few days to find out why. On the news, are their photos. They’re bodies are being exhumed as their deaths have been reopened as possible homicides.
Prompt 27: Band Life – Just a little cut scene where everyone is doing warm-ups. But, I really want to see the guys helping Alex stretch before (since apparently drummers can get terrible muscle aches/cramps).
Prompt 28: Holidays – Just imagine the guys’ first holidays with Julie’s family. All the usual cheesiness, but must include a trip to the mountains and a snowball fight.
Prompt 29: Sleepover – It’s late and the band decides to have a sleepover in the studio. After a bit, it turns very deep and emotional. It becomes a really eye-opening experience for Julie as she learns more about her bandmates and they her.
Prompt 30: *Triggers - Allergic Reaction* Food - The boys are very protective of what the Molina family eats. I’m talking they will throw out, reheat, overcook food if the food is at all questionable. One day, they throw out Julie’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich “because the jam looked off”. So, they make her a peanut butter and fluff one, too bad that they didn’t know Julie’s allergic to corn (which can also be used to make marshmallows).
Prompt 31: *Triggers - Cheating* The guys ask Julie what the situation is with Carrie and why she’s seems to be out to get her? Julie explains that they used to be best friends before Carrie’s mother cheated on her dad and Carrie caught her in the act. “After that, Carrie was gone from school one week and it was like her personality changed overnight into this plastic I’m-better-than-you robot. I tried talking to her, but she ignored me for months. Anytime I tried, she pretty much just harassed me to go away. Then my mom got sick and then she died. I just didn’t have the energy to keep trying.”
Prompt 32: Julie singing in Spanish and the guys being in awe.
Prompt 33: *Triggers - Death of a Parent & Grief* Rose’s death… How did she die? What were the Molinas like in the first year after her death?
Prompt 34: Something where the Julie is being interviewed and has to describe the guys and they her?
Luke – Contagious, Sensitive, Intense
Reggie – Lovable, Goofball, Questionable
Alex – Loyal, Emotional, Careful
Julie – Gifted, Fiery, Thoughtful
Prompt 35: Luke singing “Unsaid Emily” acoustically for a show (Julie did reach out to the Pattersons beforehand).
Prompt 36: *Triggers - Illness* Julie having to perform while she is seriously sick. The guys try to convince her to postpone, but she’s being stubborn. She continues the show until she literally collapses at the end of it. The guys are worried and take her home afterwards to recuperate.
Prompt 37: I really want a protective Flynn fic where she doesn’t trust the boys after they ditch Julie and her at the dance. She makes them work hard to make it up to them.
Prompt 38: *Triggers - Character Death* What if Rose was the one who found the guys after the rancid hotdogs and called 9-1-1?
Prompt 39: *Triggers - Injury* The jolts happen to Julie instead of the guys. Despite the guys being the ones cursed, every jolt is felt by Julie instead and she gets weaker and weaker. What better blackmail and incentive to the guys need to join Caleb’s club?
Prompt 40: *Triggers - Possession & Stalking* The guys notice possessed Nick stalking Julie at school and eventually her house/studio. #PhantomBodyguards
Prompt 41: *Triggers - Bullying* What if Carrie witnessed Flynn and Julie being bullied by another student? Something in her snaps and she rips the bully a new one before helping Flynn and Julie.
Prompt 42: With Julie’s help, Luke is able to track down Reggie’s and Alex’s families as a surprise/gift. He wants to give them the same closure that Julie gave to him.
Prompt 43: Role reversal – After a performance, Julie is the one to poof out.
Prompt 44: What if Julie was a medium (since birth) and was trying to talk to her mom, but can’t? Instead, she got the guys?
Prompt 45: *Triggers - Physical Child Abuse, Child Emotional Abuse, Child Mental Abuse, Child Neglect* The boys’ lives are a lot darker than canon. Reggies’s are physically abusive, Alex’s are emotionally/mentally abusive, Luke’s are neglectful/never around. 3+1 (Molina family being awesome).
Prompt 46: *Triggers - Suicidal Thoughts & Ideation* Reggie was suicidal before having found a family with Luke and Alex (and then Julie and her family). He looks back on where he was and where he is now. “I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.” And “All it takes is a beautiful fake smile to hide an injured soul and they will never notice how broken you really are.”– both Robin Williams
Prompt 47: Julie is the new student at school, but the guys are still ghosts. How would it play out if no one knew Julie before “Bright”?
Prompt 48: JATP are being interviewed (virtually) and the interviewer starts asking inappropriate questions about Julie and the guys’ relationship. Julie is clearly upset (as are the guys). It gets so bad, the guys decide to disconnect and refuse to continue. Afterwards, they cuddle Julie and talk about it.
Prompt 49: A lifer from Caleb’s club sees a JATP performance and are not happy to be paying for an exclusive ghost experience only to find it available for free. As time goes on, more and more lifers are refusing to go to Caleb’s club until it’s an actual “ghost town”.
Prompt 50: Bobby/Trevor is a lifer at Caleb’s club.
Prompt 51: *Triggers - Murder* Bobby/Trevor made a deal with a ghost in 1995. Help him become famous now and in return, he will join his ghost club after his death. Too bad Bobby/Trevor didn’t read the fine print. He didn’t just sell his soul.
Prompt 52: Battle of Wills – Julie goes to Caleb’s club and tricks him into letting the boys and Willie, by intimidating him with her “powers”. Something like, “If I can do this now as a lifer, I wonder what else could I do?” Caleb would then threaten her life and Julie would reply that she would just come back as an even more powerful ghost and make his afterlife a nightmare. Instead of his nightly parties, it’ll be nightly riots. Caleb eventually agrees to let the boys go in exchange that they (and Julie) never enter his club again. After being freed, they meet up back at the studio and the guys are in shock. They can’t believe she did that. Julie responds saying, she couldn’t just leave them behind. They’re her band, her family. Plus, it’s not like she has any actual powers that could take on Caleb… Or does she? #BADASSJULIE
Prompt 53: *Triggers - Murder & Body Horror* What if Caleb took more than souls? Turns out he drains the life of the living to run his club, and then takes your soul as part of his deal. The drain isn’t a part of the deal, but rather a consequence of going to the club itself. The more often you go to get answers about the other side, the closer you are to joining it.
Prompt 54: *Triggers - Murder* What if Julie was also a ghost? A terrified ghost who doesn’t remember how she died. Her mom is still alive and her family still lives in their house, but they’re more zombies than people. Julie can’t interact at all with them unless she’s playing with the guys. The guys try to help her remember as her family grieves. As time passes, Julie gets flashes of memory of her death or rather, her murder. She was killed in the studio by Bobby/Trevor after discovering he stole Sunset Curve’s songs. It isn’t the first time he’s killed…
Prompt 55: *Triggers - Death of a Parent & Grief* Before Julie played their CD and the guys appeared, changing her life forever, she was just a girl grieving for her mom. One day, something sparks her to laugh. A laugh that makes her feel so light, that’s she’s floating only to crash down to earth when she realizes her mom won’t ever laugh like that again… Julie refuses to laugh if her mother can’t… Just want something where someone tells Julie that it’s ok to laugh again.
Prompt 56: How did Alex and Luke find out about Jar Jar? 😉
Prompt 57: *Triggers - Bullying* Carrie’s getting harassed by someone and breaks down after a Dirty Candi number. Julie sees it (or maybe Alex spots it and tells her) and puts a stop to it and defends Carrie and her performance. It leads to Carrie sticking up for Julie a couple of days/weeks later, and it slowly leads back to a road of friendship.
Prompt 58: *Triggers - Possible Injury* (Before 1x9) In his excitement to catch ghosts, Carlos sets up a trap for the guys, but Julie gets caught in the crosshairs. Option A: She’s more annoyed then injured. Sibling hijinks ensues. Option B: She gets hurt and Carlos has to help her. Either way, the guys apologize for making her life harder and antagonizing Carlos.
Prompt 59: *Triggers - Injury* Julie gets a concussion at school (I’m thinking gym class). She’s extremely confused, which the nurse warns is normal but also gives her a list of protocols to follow. Julie gets home and can’t see the guys, but she can hear them. She doesn’t understand what’s going on and gets very frustrated with them and herself. As she starts to cry, she asks for her mom.
Prompt 60: *Triggers - Possession* You know how Flynn yells at demon and Carrie responds? What if Carrie was actually a demon? Think Buzzfeed Unsolved (fandom) head canon with Shane, a demon posing as a human, and Ryan, as the unsuspecting human.
Prompt 61: *Triggers - Medical Condition* Julie arrives home after school with a migraine that’s been building all day. Everything boils over when she steps into the kitchen and Ray’s cooking dinner. She heads right for him and seeks comfort. The guys are a bit lost, but are quiet as Ray whispers to Julie.
Prompt 62: *Triggers - Character Death & Missing Characters*��What if the guys don’t actually know how they died? And what if, their bodies were never found and that they’re still considered “missing”? How would that change things?
Prompt 63: I can see this falling under Witch!Julie, but it doesn’t have to? Julie marked the boys by gifting them Dahlia pins (which they wear with pride) before they visit Caleb’s club. He goes to mark them on the night of the dance, but the stamp doesn’t “stick” and his other powers don’t work on them. He makes up some excuse, but he decides to investigate. He goes to the house and confronts Julie. He tries to pull on his usual bag of tricks, but they don’t work on her either. Caleb threatens her, “I’ll get them one way or another.” “I wouldn’t bet on it.” “Haven’t you heard, all bets on me?” “Yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor.” “Who do you think you are?!” “Julie Molina, from Julie and the Phantoms. You... obviously don’t get out much.” #FlusteredCaleb
Prompt 64: After a couple of weeks of constant late-night rehearsals, gigs, and studying for finals, Julie can’t keep her head up during band practice. She keeps nodding off at the piano, blinking rapidly, and shaking herself to try to stay awake. The guys stop playing after the nth time Julie slows down or misses a cue. They decide that it’s time for her to go to bed. They drag her to her room and with strict instructions to change, go to bed, and that she has to sleep in tomorrow until noon.
Prompt 65: Slang Exchange – Flynn and Julie teach the guys 2020’s slang while the guys teach them early 90’s slang. They each keep explaining more obscure and crazy words/phrases until it turns into a friendly competition of each era’s craziest terms.
Prompt 66: In Julie’s dance class, they’re given their mid-term or final exam where each person must preform 3 different styles of dance with a partner. Julie asks if the dances can be performed with people outside the class or even multiple someone’s and the teacher agrees as long as the person or persons are there on the day of the exam. Julie asks the guys to help her since they have such distinct body moves/styles. Examples: Hip-Hop, Rumba, Salsa, Waltz, Cha-Cha, Swing, Tap, Foxtrot, Jive, Tango, etc.
Prompt 67: *Triggers - Physical Child Abuse & Scarring* Julie walks into the studio after school and sees that only Reggie is there and he’s changing his shirt. It’s not an usual sight to have Luke or even Alex change shirts in front of her, but Reggie had always been a little shyer. When she sees his back, she now knows why. There are a lot of thick old scars near his spine. When she drops her bag in shock, Reggie gets spooked and poofs out. Julie then spends the next few hours anxiously waiting for him to come back. When Luke and Alex later poof in and see her distress, she explains what she saw. Luke and Alex exchange looks and Alex tells Luke to go talk to him while he explains things to Julie.
Prompt 68: Ever notice the amount of jewelry the guys have? I would just like to see the stories behind how they got them, particularly their necklaces? My head cannon is that the necklaces are gifts from each other over the years.
Prompt 69: *Triggers - Mental Health* Five times Julie can’t touch the boys when they needed comfort and the one time (and more), she can after the Orpheum show.
Prompt 70: *Triggers - Mental Health* After Julie can touch the guys and after Ray and Carlos know about them, the Molina family decides to surprise them with their first family meal. The guys are super happy, but a little worried. The last two times they ate, things didn’t end well (the hotdogs and Caleb’s club). The idea of being able to food or being able to eat, feels… tarnished?... #FamilyComfort
Prompt 71: JatP debuts a new song and they decide to switch things up, literally. One second everyone is in their normal position, the next everyone is playing a different instrument and killing it. For example, Alex on guitar, Julie on bass, Reggie on piano, Luke on drums.
Prompt 72: *Triggers - Death of a Spouse* Can we have a Ray and Rose moment like Amelia and Dr. Harvey from Casper (the scene with the red dress)? One where they tell each other how much they love and miss each other?
Prompt 73: *Triggers - Mental Health* During the day while Julie is at school, Luke is in Julie’s room. He knows he shouldn’t, but he’s been feeling off and being in her room makes him feel better. But, the more he looks over her pictures and reads through the writing on her desk (he learned his lesson about breaking her trust with looking in her dream box), the more he feels guilty when he can see all the good memories in them. He feels so guilty because it feels like everything wrong or that has gone wrong lately is his fault – running out on his parents, having the idea to eat the hotdogs, making Julie’s life difficult by making her lie to her family, needing to get revenge against Bobby/Trevor, which led them to Caleb and missing the dance, which breaks Julie’s trust, almost not making it to the Orpheum show… He just keeps spiraling until Alex and Reggie come looking for him.
Prompt 74: After that magic hug, Julie takes note of the guys Orpheum outfits.
Prompt 75: *Triggers - Mental Health* Empath!Julie. She feels things on a deeper level and can sense what other people are feeling. She channels her emotions through her music and it’s why it feels so alive. It’s why her family has been so worried about her not playing music for nearly a year. She was so shut down, they feared they would lose her too… When the guys show up, she isn’t ready to open herself up emotionally to them. It’s also why she can’t touch them. As time goes on and she opens a bit and she tries to touch them, it doesn’t work because she’s not strong enough yet. It’s only after “Stand Tall” that she allows herself to be vulnerable/strong enough at the same time that she can touch them.
Prompt 76: During “Perfect Harmony”, when Luke says, “Step into my world”, Julie actually steps into the ghost world. After that, she can see more than just the guys and now sees ghosts everywhere.
Prompt 77: *Triggers - Food Hoarding & Child Neglect* The guys were food starved before the hotdogs. Reggie’s family was poor and couldn’t afford enough good food at home. Luke didn’t have much money for food after running away from home nearly six months before he died. Alex wasn’t welcome at home, let alone the dinner table.
Prompt 78: *Triggers - Graphic Murder, Possession, Medical Condition, Possible Medical Disability* This one is gruesome and it’s based on a nightmare… Caleb possesses Nick a little earlier than cannon. He still goes over to the Molina’s with flowers and rings the doorbell. When Julie opens the door, he slashes her throat and then stabs her. He runs as Julie staggers with her hands on her throat and torso. Ray hears her struggles and rushes over, yelling for Carlos to call 9-1-1. The guys try to keep Julie calm and in the present. They follow the Molina’s to the hospital, where Julie is placed in a coma. She’ll live, but her ability to talk, let alone sing is unknown. Meanwhile, the police think it was a crazy fan because of the dropped flowers.
Prompt 79: *Triggers - Body Horror* What if Caleb’s stamp only caused the guys pain if they’re playing their instruments or preforming outside of his club? Being unable to perform is excruciating, but spending their afterlives as Caleb’s puppets isn’t enough/real either. Which leads to Luke’s words, “No music is worth making Julie, if we’re not making it with you.”
Prompt 80: *Triggers - Body Horror & Nightmares* Caleb haunts Julie’s nightmares and causes her to sleepwalk into danger. Think the nightmare scene in “Anastasia” where Anya nearly jumps off the ship thinking she’s jumping into a lake to see her family. Who/what does Julie see? Who/what wakes her?
Prompt 81: Halloween special! The Molina family are a bunch of werewolves. Can you imagine the craziness when the guys realize what they are? The questions they might ask (particularly with Alex’s “softer touch”)?
Prompt 82: *Triggers - Mental Health* Reggie’s biggest fear is being alone and the absolute worst thing you can do is ignore him. His parents used to do it all the time to punish him. So much that, he felt like a ghost long before he died. The only thing that kept him afloat were the guys, and now Julie with her family… After a bad day of flashbacks of his old life, all he wants is to be with his new family.
Prompt 83: *Triggers - Child Neglect, Child Mental Abuse, Child Emotional Abuse, Mental Health, & Anxiety* The feeling of not being enough, let alone good enough is something that haunts Alex constantly. He was a good kid, who had good grades, never talked back or caused trouble. He helped out around the house and did everything his parents asked of him… So, why wasn’t he enough for them?
Prompt 84: *Triggers - Mental Health* Julie comes home upset and runs into Alex. He stops her and talks to her. Over time, he calms her down enough to explain what happened. She does and he hugs her as he tells her that she can always come to him. After all, a big brother always looks after their little sister.
Prompt 85: *Triggers - Body Injury/Horror* Some thing a little different? What if the guys didn’t know how they died (or anything about their past really)? What if they only knew their music/instruments, their friendship, their first names, and not much else? It’s pretty much a foggy mist when they push too hard. Julie has to play detective to figure out who the guys were and what happened to them. She still loves music, but she’s not ready to play/sing quite yet. I just imagine Julie in the studio trying to piece together bits and pieces of information to dig into the mystery of who the guys were/are.
Prompt 86: Artist!Julie. She’s obviously a creative soul and I can just see her drawing the guys in their element. And also sketching them how she sees them in normal everyday activities in their afterlives.
Prompt 87: Julie walks in on the guys hanging out with her family. She realizes that the guys are more than family to just her. Her family is their family too and she loves them all the more for it. Later, she gives the guys extra hugs/cuddles.
Prompt 88: *Triggers - Stalking* After a gig, Julie is harassed outside by a creep. The guys poof to her wondering what the hold up is. They end up scaring the creep off by becoming visible and corporeal. The creep is terrified.
Prompt 89: Willie teaching Alex the choreography to “The Other Side of Hollywood”. As Alex opens up and allows himself to relax, he teaches Willie some dance moves.
Prompt 90: The guys help Julie and Flynn study for finals. Luke – English and Music Theory, Reggie – Calculus and Chemistry, Alex – Social Studies and History
Prompt 91: *Triggers - Mental Health* Reggie overhears Julie talking to Flynn on the phone about being a waste and thinks they’re talking about him… He’s obviously very upset and decides to leave, but not before leaving goodbye notes/gifts for everyone. It takes over a day for Luke and Alex to track him down and bring him home.
Prompt 92: *Triggers - Illness & Mental Health* Burnt Out!Julie. Suffering dehydration, exhaustion, and just feeling overwhelmed, Julie isn’t sure how much more she can take. The guys step up and force her to take a break. They may be ghosts (sorta), but she’s still human and she needs to rest.
Prompt 93: During a Molina family dinner, the guys are curious to what they’re having and Julie replies it’s ____, her mom’s favorite dish. The conversation stalls, and the guys offer up some of their favorite dishes (and least favorite) to help ease the tension.
Prompt 94: *Triggers - Racism/Sexism & Mental Health* Someone says something bad or gives a backhanded compliment to Julie about her looks, but compliments the guys. The guys are horrified/disgusted with that person.
Prompt 95: Family Game Night – The Molina family, Flynn, and 3 ghosts play classic board games (think Twister, Monopoly, Payday, Clue, Uno, Pictionary, Apples to Apples, Taboo, Jenga). I just keep imagining Alex with his “let someone with a softer touch” and being the most competitive one.
Prompt 96: *Triggers - Mental Health* Julie writes a song about missed opportunities in honor of the guys. The first time she plays it for them, the guys just break down. After that, they decide it needs to be part of their set list with an acoustic version.
Prompt 97: For a school project, Julie has to take a play and then write a song about it, however, they’re not allowed to say which play it is or name any characters. After the songs are presented, the class gets to guess what play it is for extra credit. She’s given Romeo and Juliet… And she knows exactly what to write about.
Prompt 98: Alex being introduced to Adam Lambert. That’s it, that’s the prompt.
Prompt 99: *Triggers - Mental Health* When Julie calls Luke out for only thinking about himself before walking away, her words hit a lot harder than in cannon. Luke poofs away and breaks down because he knows she’s right… Because all he can think about right now is how much he misses his parents… Just want more expansion from Luke’s POV.
Prompt 100: *Triggers - Possession & Injury* When Nick starts acting weird, Julie grabs his arm to get his attentions. She let’s go immediately because her hand feels like it’s on fire as Nick screams in pain. Something is not right… She realizes it’s not Nick and forces Caleb to release him. Julie and Caleb both feel the burning pain, but Caleb gives up first. He’s forgotten what actual pain felt like and vacates Nick’s body.
#julie and the phantoms#jatp#jatpdaily#jatpsource#julie and the phantoms fics#julie and the phantoms fanfics#julie and the phantoms fanfiction#julie and the phantoms prompts#jatp fics#jatp fanfics#jatp fanfiction#japt prompts
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Highschool Casualties
Chapter 5/?
Masterpost with Ao3 link
Word Count- 3,447
Ao3 link
A/N OK HOLY FUCK. Y'all, I'm so sorry this took so long to make. Not only did I have my own issues going on, but I had so much trouble deciding where I wanted to go with this chapter. Not only did I not know what to do with the story, but also I trouble trying to figure out how I wanted to word certain things and never felt just right. Even now as I'm posting this, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but I think it's the best I can do. So having said that, please enjoy!
“SHAYNE WAIT-” Damien was cut off by a small tone, indicating Shayne hung up on him.
“Shayne?” He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the screen.
“God-” Damien moaned as he slammed his hands against the bathroom stalls.
“-Damn it Shayne!” Damien dialed Shayne’s number again.
“Come on, Shayne, please, pick up.” Damien pleaded.
“Hey you’ve reached the number of Shayne Topp! I can’t talk-”
Damien hung up the phone with a huff, and began typing.
Damien
Shayne please
What’s going on?
What happened?
Are you ok?
Is someone hurt?
Are you hurt?
Please
Get back to me soon
At least tell me if you’re ok
Damien stared at his phone as he pealed out of the bathroom and went to his next class: English. He only had to wait out that class until lunch, where he would see Shayne.
===
Damien entered the classroom, and all eyes turned to him.
"Oh Mr. Haas, glad you could show up. Go ahead and take your seat." His teacher, Mr. Hecox, said, pointing to the empty spot where Damien sat.
Damien nodded, silently thanking him for not making a scene of him being late, and walked over to the desk, keeping his head down.
He got to his seat and pulled out his phone once again. Glancing down at it anytime his teacher wasn’t looking, only partially listening to what Mr. Hecox was saying.
It was about 10 minutes into his class when he noticed something. Shayne had read his messages. And he was typing. The three dots on his screen showing up and disappearing. His heart was racing.
Shayne
I’ll explain at lunch
And I’m okay for the most part
Damien
For the most part?!
Shayne what happened?!?!
Shayne
Lunch Damien
Damien
Fine
Damien slipped his phone into his bag. His mind was put to little ease, but he just had to wait out this one class. That shouldn’t be to hard.
Just one class.
===
“Alright class, we have about... 8 minutes of left, and in that time you guys are gonna go ahead and turn in your essays!” Mr. Hecox said as some of the class dug through their bags, others asked if they could quickly print off their essays (which Mr. Hecox reluctantly agreed to).
“Alright and um, Damien can you go ahead and collect those for me, please?” Mr. Hecox asked, Damien replying with a quiet ‘sure’. “Thank you! And if you could place them on my desk when you’re done that would be great.”
The rest of the class sat quietly. Some people reading a book, others on their phone. The only sounds in the room being Mr. Hecox typing on his computer, and Damien walking around the classroom.
“Thank you Damien!” Mr. Hecox said as Damien placed down the small stack of papers on his desk. He lowered his voice as he continued to speak, “And before you head for lunch, I’d like to speak with you.”
“O-ok.” Damien mumbled, and walked back to his seat.
Damien stared at the clock. Only 4 minutes until lunch. He just had to wait 4 minutes.
Tick
3 minutes
Tick
2 minutes
Tick
1 minute
Tick
The bell rung throughout the halls. The class stood up and swung their bags over their shoulders. As his classmates robotically walked out of the room, Damien dragged himself to Mr. Hecox’s desk.
This better be quick. I don’t have time for this.
“Yes?” Damien asked, with an annoyed tinge in his voice. It wasn’t like Damien hated his teacher, no that wasn’t the case. He quite liked his english teacher, but he had somewhere to be. And whatever his teacher needed to talk to him about wasn’t nearly as important as getting to Shayne.
“Thanks for staying, I’ll make this quick since I know you want to head to lunch,”
Thank god.
“I’ve noticed that your grade in this class dropping over the course of this month. You’re not turning things in on time if you turn them in at all.”
“Ok?” Damien asked. They weren’t to far into the month, so it was hard to understand the concern.
“I was wondering if there was anything going on at home, or in your personal life. Because you’re usually really active in this class, one of my best students.”
“Well, um thanks... But I guess I've just been sort of busy..."
It wasn't exactly a lie, Damien had been sort of busy. But in less of a 'I have so many activities going on in my life right now," and in more of a 'Wow I'm so tired and my head hurts all the time :D' kind of way.
“What’s been going on?”
Shit
“Uh, it’s sort of hard to explain. Kinda just a few things that built up these few weeks. Yeah sorry, again, sort of hard to explain. My brain kind of refuses to work when I’m hungry.” Damien hinted, fidgeting with cuff of his sleeve.
“Oh, um, yeah, alright. I’ll let you head to lunch in one second.” Mr. Hecox grabbed a notebook from under his desk, writing a few things down before turning his attention back to Damien.
“So, how does this sound; I let you go for now, and if things still seem to be doing pretty low, and not just in your grades, I’ll check back in with you next Friday. Okay?”
“Yeah, sound good to me.” Damien said, shifting his weight between his feet.
Alright! Then in the meantime you are good to go! Have a good day Mr. Haas!”
“You too, Mr. Hecox.”
Damien gave a slight wave before leaving the room.
===
Damien ran out of the classroom and down to the cafeteria. Speeding by groups of kids and teachers telling him to walk.
If I’m doing pretty low, and not just in my grades? What does that even mean? Ok you know what, it doesn’t matter. Maybe he just noticed that I’m tired or something, fuck if I know. God, stop thinking about it, that isn’t the concern right now, Damien! Just get to Shayne.
Once he got closer to the lunchroom, he stopped running and pulled out his phone. Shayne messaged him.
Shayne
Meet me in the elevator room near the caf
The one they closed down, not the new one.
Well I guess there’s no other Elevators near the caf
Ok it doesn’t matter you know what I meant
Meet me in the old elevator room.
Damien let out a small breath from his nose, amused at Shayne’s always amazing texting skills. He shoved his phone into his pocket and changed his direction to the elevator.
He sped to the elevator, walking past more groups of students, many giving him a strange look as he went. Damien’s was heart racing harder than ever. Shayne wasn’t one to cause this type of panic. He was usually very straight to the point if he had any issues going on. And with that in mind, Damien realized how dire the situation must be.
He walked inside, and there he saw Shayne, leaning against the wall inside.
“Oh thank god,” Damien walked into the room and gave Shayne a hug, “dude you had me so worried! I thought you were hurt.”
“Y-yeah, sorry, I-I’m fine.” Shayne said weakly, barely reciprocating.
“Ok, now-” Damien dropped his arms from Shayne, ”-what happened? Is there a reason that Courtney can’t know about this or-”
“She can know about it! And she’s probably gonna f-find out what happened soon...” Shayne mumbled, his voice wavering at the end.
“And that’s not the point, Damien, but last time I checked, Courtney didn’t call me because she heard what I was thinking in her dream?! Dude how the-what in the- how?” Shayne asked, his hands on the back of his head, a hand occasionally running through his hair. He kept his head down, averting his eyes from Damien's. And Damien didn’t see it before, but Shayne wasn’t himself.
“Shayne I-I don’t even know what happened!” Damien retorted, a creak coming from the door to the room as it began to close. “And this isn’t the first time I’ve called you because I’ve had a weird nightmare before!”
“Yeah? Tell me the last time you called me because of a nightmare, Damien. Better yet, tell me why you called me.”
Damien opened his mouth, the words getting caught in his through when he realized when it was.
With a sigh Damien continued. “A few months ago...”
“And why did you call me?”
With another sigh, Damien answered. “We were in the danganronpa universe... and Courtney killed you with a creeper... While Revenge was playing...” Damien admitted, his voice slowly getting more mumbled with his explanation.
“Yeah you weren’t exactly dreaming the most realistic!”
“You have to admit it was kinda funny though.” Damien said, voice still mumbled.
“Yeah it was... But now is not the time for that!”
“Right, sorry.”
“And stop trying to change the subject! How did you know what happened?!” Shayne snapped.
“Shayne, for the love of god. I. Don’t. Know. All I said was that I heard you, and you sounded freaked out. I even asked you what happened when I called you. You said you would tell me at lunch! And I’ve spent the last period wondering what happened to you!”
“But how did you hear me?!” Shayne asked again, desperate for an answer to this strange situation.
“If I knew, I would’ve told you! So please, just fucking tell me what happened!” Damien snapped.
“OK! Fine! I...” Shayne paused, trying to find the right words.
“I almost killed a someone.”
“WHAT?!” Damien put his hands over his mouth, taking a step back. Shock filling his eyes.
Ok, should’ve taken a bit more time to think about the wording there, Shayne.
Damien took his hands off his mouth and tried to force words out. A sentence, a question, anything. The only thing to come out were small croaks.
“Ok no, not killed, I didn’t do that, h-he’s going to be fine. He’s just, Injured? Concussed?” Shayne explain quickly, still trying to find the best way to word this.
“Hurt badly.” Shayne settled on.
“Okay h-how did this happen? Did you trip him or- don’t tell you got into a fight!” Damien’s eyes changed from shock, back to worry.
“What! No! I’m not like that anymore dude! You know I-I wouldn’t do that!”
“I know! I do! It’s just... How else could this have happened?”
“O-okay so it’s gonna be hard to believe, but you have to trust me. Please.” Shayne, for the first time this conversion, looked Damien dead in the eyes as he pleaded.
“Yeah of course!”
Shayne went on to explain the incident once more, being more detailed than in his previous explanations, though still jumbled up in the troubling nature of what happened. He was shaky, and stuttering.
“Oh.” Damien replied once Shayne concluded the story.
“Yeah...”
There was a beat of silence before either of them spoke again.
“A-are you sure he didn’t just... trip? When you hit him?” Damien asked cautiously.
“Th-there’s no way! It looked like-”
“I know what it probably looked like.” Damien cut off. “But are you sure you’re not just... misremembering?”
“N-no, I know what I saw! You don’t fly back like that when you trip Damien!”
“Yes I get that but-”
“You said you would trust me on this, Damien!” Shayne said, his voice cracking as he spoke more. Eyes welling up.
“I know! And I do! I do-I really do. It’s just...” Damien sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Adrenaline was running, a lot was happening, and it was probably hard to think clearly. Everything might’ve looked more dramatic than it was.”
Shayne stood their in silence, opening his mouth as if he was trying to speak, but no words were coming out. He wiped the tear from his eye.
He’s right
“Yeah. And I’m not trying to like, dismiss your feelings, it’s just... ya know... You’re strong, but not exactly super human strong. No one is.” Damien said, letting out a dry chuckle.
“Ok how are you doing that?” Shayne barked.
“Doing what?” Damien asked, taken aback by the sudden harshness Shayne was exuding.
“Am I speaking? Because I swear I thought that last thing in my head.”
“D-did you not just say something?”
“No, I didn’t! How are you doing that!”
“Doing what?!” Damien asked, panic flooding his voice and mind.
“It’s been happening all day! I’ve just thought I was saying things aloud accidentally! But it’s like you’re reading my mind!” Shayne’s tone was getting more accusatory. Like he was calling Damien out for a crime.
“Shayne, come on, you know that’s impossible-”
“Oh and I was literally thinking earlier ‘haha maybe Damien’s reading my mind! Wouldn’t that be funny? Just like the whole joke people have! But nooo there’s no way! I’m probably just more tired than I though!” Shayne lashed.
“C’mon Shayne, are you sure you’re not overthinking this? We already established that today’s been a little off for you.” Damien said, but he sounded unsure of himself. Like he didn’t truly believe what he was saying himself.
“Oh don’t try and change the subject back to me. And things haven’t been off with me all day, just since gym. You on the other hand,” Shayne took a step towards Damien. “Have been acting very off this entire day.”
“I mean, I’m tired dude. Not getting enough sleep does that to you!” Damien said quietly, trying to rationalize his behavior.
“Oh so not getting enough sleep means you're able to reply to the things I think in my head?” Shayne questioned, taking another step towards Damien.
“But that’s impossible, when has that ever happened?” Damien asked softly, his voiced was laced anxiety. He slowly taking a step away from Shayne.
“Oh? Maybe on the way to school?”
Shayne’s took a step closer.
“Or when we met up with Courtney?”
And he was being so loud.
“Or when I was walking you to the nurse’s office?”
He sounded so angry.
“Or how about when you where able to know what I was thinking, in your fucking dream!”
“OK!” Damien shouted. The lights flickered, and the clock on the wall cracked.
Damien backed away from Shayne (who was standing no more than a foot away from him), his arms covering his head as he curled in on himself.
“I-i get it! Just stop yelling! Please.” Damien kept backing up until he was against the wall. He slid down, choking back a sob.
Shayne stood in shock, and realization. He hurt his best friend. Things were, literally and figuratively, falling apart.
“Damien I-”
“I know! I-I know. Don’t apologize. I-it’s my fault. The reason you wanted to talk was so you could tell me what happened. This was suppose to be about you, I made it about me. I-I don’t know why I’m upset. I should’ve been less selfish.” Damien hid his head further into the security of his arms. Tears streaming down his face.
Guilt creeping up on Shayne as he stared at his friend. He didn’t know what else to do, so he slid down and sat a few feet away from Damien. Close enough to be able to comfort Damien, but far enough away where he could reject his presence if he needed to.
“This wasn’t your fault.” Shayne said, looking blankly at the broken clock
Damien lifted his head slightly to look at Shayne. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean this wasn’t your fault. There isn’t much behind it.” Shayne chuckled sadly “I pushed it. I was... angry? Confused? I think confused is more accurate, but that doesn’t matter.”
Damien shrugged, he didn’t really have much to say at the moment.
“And you didn’t make this about you,” Shayne continued. “I did. I brought you up. If I wanted this to be one sided, I would’ve just told you what happened over the phone. But I wanted to know what happened on your end.”
“Yeah I guess...”
“And we figured out the situation that’s going on with me. He probably just tripped. But there’s something going on with you. I think it’s more than you being sleep deprived.”
Damien nodded. “Yeah...”
“And I think I know what’s going on.”
“Sure, but I don’t.”
“Damien I think you do, you just don’t want to face it.” Shayne softly said.
Damien sighed and shrugged his shoulders, taking seclusion in his arms once more.
They sat in tense silence, unknowing to the amount of time that had passed due to destruction caused by Damien.
“Shayne?” Damien whispered, pulling his head up to face Shayne once again.
“What’s up?” Shayne replied, the casualness of his response clashing with the tension the situation held.
“I-I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
Damien shook his head, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He was at a loss.
“Honestly, I-I don’t know. I just- I thought I was going crazy? I guess? I mean, heh, maybe I am. For all I know, I'm over at your house, still spending the night over, a-and I just haven’t woken up yet. This is all just a bad dream...”
Shayne chuckled, “Wasn’t the last time you slept over like a month ago? That’s a really strange time to pick.”
“Well, that was before... stuff happened.”
“Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Shayne asked, scooting closer to Damien.
“The stuff you said.”
“Well, I never really said anything.”
“But, you know what I mean...”
“Damien, is there something I should know about? Did something happen to cause this?”
“No, nothing caused this! And that’s why I feel like I’m losing it! I don’t exactly have any sort of explanation for why this is happening! I just woke up one day feeling like shit, everything was super fucking loud, and my head hurt all the time; and I kept hearing shit when nothing was being said so I was paranoid all the time and it sucks!” Damien rambled, frustration building up in his voice.
Shayne’s expression morphed into one of concern. “Dude, I had no idea! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“B-because I thought it would go away! I thought it was only temporary!” Damien let out a shaky breath. “I sure as hell didn’t expect this to happen.”
Shayne stared at Damien and scooted closer until the two sat with their knees touching. He put his arm around Damien and pulled him into a side hug.
“I don’t think anyone could have predicted something like this.” Shayne said, rubbing Damien’s shoulder.
“I mean, you guys would always joke that I’m psychic.” Damien laid his head on Shayne’s shoulder.
“Well, yeah. But that was only because you were good at guessing stuff.”
“Fair enough. Still kinda funny though. That y’all were right.”
“Yeah, well, god works in mysterious ways.”
“Oh fuck off.” Damien said, poking Shayne in the side.
“Hehey! I was kidding! Stohop!” Shayne laughed, batting at Damien’s hand.
“Uh huh, suuuuuure.” Damien teased, poking Shayne a few more times before stopping.
The two sat quietly for a moment before Damien started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Shayne asked.
“It just hit me, how fucking weird this situation is.” Damien explained in between laughs. “Like, I have super powers for christ sake!”
It didn’t take long for Shayne to join his laughter.
“Oh, man, Damien, we gotta have a super hero training montage!”
“Oh hell yeah!”
“Like, my workout playlist already has a montage-y vibes to it!”
“Dude we have to do this!”
“Dude, can we do it after school?”
“Yes, I’m so down!”
“Hell yeah!”
The two high-fived, interlocking fingers as they brought their arms down.
“God, this is all crazy.” Damien said with a sigh.
“Yeah, but we should probably head to lunch now.” Shayne removed his arm from Damien’s shoulder and stood up.
“Oh shit, yeah.” Damien said, doing the same.
As the two walked out of the room, Damien couldn’t help but notice that Shayne still seemed somewhat off. When he tried to listen to his thoughts, he noticed how tense it felt. Like Shayne was actively trying not to think about something that was very clearly on his mind. Every few seconds, a word would slip out and it was imminently suppressed. It wouldn’t just fade away, it was like if someone was talking and a hand was put over their mouth. The more Damien tried to do it, the bigger his headache got, until he decided to just stop. Shayne probably just didn’t want Damien to know about it yet, but he would tell him eventually.
Right?
A/N: That little creeper aw man danganronpa story is based on something that actually happened to me! One of my friends called me because I was killed via ‘creeper aw man’ by our other friend in a dream he had. I thought it was funny so yeah
#smosh#smosh fic#smosh damien#damien haas#shayne topp#shaymien#My Smosh Fic#Highschool Casualties#smosh games#Courtney Miller
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Crash Landing
Summary: Jung Hoseok. Notorious hot dude on campus. Excellent dancer. Bad boy. Tattoos. Your best friend’s older brother. There were a lot of reasons why he was a terrible idea. Scratch that, fucking awful life ruining idea. But hey, you’re here to win ‘dumbest idea of the century’ award apparently.
Pairing: Dancer!Hoseok x Uni Student!reader (fem)
Genre: Slow Burn, best friend’s older brother AU, Uni AU, smut, romance
Warnings: mentions of divorce, mentions of Hobi having been cheated on, protected sex, oral sex (fem. receiving), Hoseok with tattoos
Word Count: 13.4K
Meeting Hoseok had been a freak event unlike anything else in your mostly uneventful life, and in that way, it was completely fitting. He had quite literally stumbled into your life. Well, crash landed is more like it. While seated on a bench spacing out into another dimension that was void of any sentient thought after finals he had face planted into the bush right next to you. You're not sure how long you'd been sitting there on the bench, possibly long enough to grow moss, and really you didn't think that anything could get you to move from your spot. You were on the fast track to becoming a Buddhist monk until Hoseok's ill-timed passing out had finally gotten you to move. At a lightning speed that you didn't think was possible after five finals back to back in one day fueled by sheer willpower and too much caffeine to be safe for human consumption you were next to him.
You had been convinced at the lack of protest or noise at falling face first into a very thorny bush that the man had most certainly died. Fight or flight responses had miraculously kicked on and as adrenaline surged the first thing you thought to do instead of asking him if he was okay was to slap his face as hard as possible. He groaned but otherwise didn't stir until you started to pull out your phone with trembling hands to call 911. You recognized him as his hands suddenly came up to move the phone away with surprising strength. The man you were sure was dying in front of you was none other than Jung Hoseok. Your best friend's older brother, who normally looked the spitting image of the sun and good health in all of the pictures you'd seen of him but now looked closer to a strung out druggy who took one hit too many. You've also noticed that he has a ton of tattoos that weren't in any of the pictures you've seen of him. Intricate poke and needle types, all littered around his arms.
"Holy shit, Hoseok?" He groaned again before struggling to sit up, hand clawing away some leaves and thorns stuck in his hair.
"Please don't call 911. I don't have insurance. Just tired. Please let me sleep." With that, his head slumped back with an unnervingly loud thwack on the concrete.
You had a few options at this point.
Option #1: Leave and just let him possibly die of a concussion after hitting his head that hard
Option #2: call your best friend and let her know that her brother is dying and won't let you call 911 because of his lack of health insurance
Option #3: slap him again, try to get him to move and drag him back to wherever he lives
Option #4 (should probably be the first but your brain is fried and adrenaline is a hell of a drug): call 911 anyways and then be forced to work three jobs and drop out of school to pay the medical bills you've forced on him
Option #5: try to drag him yourself back to your dorm which is only a short distance from the very bench you've been spacing out at.
You went with a combination of option five and three. In which you slapped him (open-palmed and left a beautiful red mark behind and your palm stinging unpleasantly) and forced him to get up. In a bizarre zombie state he slumped over your shoulder and it took you the longest fifteen minutes of your life to finally get into your dorm and throw him into your bed. Now you'd like to lie and say that at this point you tried to give some sort of shitty and iffy medical aid, but your own exhaustion had taken over and you'd fallen asleep slumped at the edge of your bed only five minutes later.
It was hours later that you'd finally woken up to the sound of Hoseok stirring and groaning before freaking out at his unknown surroundings. "Where the fuck am I? Who are you? What the fuck is going on?"
"Wow, first of all, I'd appreciate a thank you for carrying your deceptively heavy ass up three flights of stairs when you were mostly unconscious. Second of all, I'm (Y/N), your knight in shining armor and also I happen to be Sam's best friend. You biffed it face first into a bush and told me not to call 911 and that you just needed to sleep. So after slapping you...twice actually...I carried you into my room." You wipe away a few crusties from your eyes as you look at the man in front of you.
He's unnervingly handsome. In a way that makes you wonder how humans can be created his way. Perfectly well-shaped nose, a jaw that's both soft and chiseled, pouty lips, hair that flops in that painfully sexy disheveled way that some men spend hours to get just so for a picture on Instagram but refuse to admit that they did, eyes that hold a hint of playful mystery in their murky brown gaze. Even with bags under his eye and lackluster pallor from finals week he still looks like he deserves sculptures and shrines dedicated to him.
But the real sucker punch gut-wrenching charm was his laugh. The way his eyes crinkled up and perfect teeth shined as he heard this news had all the breath forced out of you slowly like a careful pinprick to a balloon. You should have known then that nothing good could come from Jung Hoseok. You should have known. But instead, you just stared up at him the floor like you were staring straight at the sun. So dazzlingly beautiful that looking right at it caused physical pain, although looking at him didn't cause you to sneeze at least.
"Well, thank you for saving me oh knight in shining armor. Also, sorry for bailing every time Sam asks me to hang out with you guys. But you know, if the guys see me hanging out with freshman girls there will be inevitable questions and then I'll have to fight a horde of douchebags to protect my sister or whatever so really I've been doing you guys a favor." He gets up from the bed, carefully so as to not kick you straight in the face as you scramble off your knees and walk over to the door with him. "Oh, and do me a favor. Don't tell my sister. As far as you're concerned this never happened and you never met me."
Just like that Hosoek was gone, as if he hadn't stumbled face first into a bush and nearly died. As if he hadn't made your finals addled brain nearly short circuit and all the breath leave your lungs from simply laughing. You kept your end of the bargain. You never told Sam what happened. Partially because you were convinced that it never did actually happen. You were sure that you had conjured up an obscure illusion or that it all had been some sort of strange dream. Until you met Hoseok again that is.
It would be another three months before you would be destined to see Hoseok again. This time he would have that natural glow back to his skin, and the bags under his eyes were gone. Sam had dragged you to the coffee shop he worked at, fueled with a rage that was rather unnatural for her as she slammed into the quiet business with steam coming out of her ears and foam around the mouth as she tore into her brother with little care of innocent bystanders in her path. "Oy, you. You think you're too good to text me back asshole?"
"Sam, not now. I'm working." He glanced at the one lone customer sitting at the worn leather couch three feet away who was staring openly at the debacle unfolding in front of him.
"It's always not now! You're always too busy for me!" You made the mistake of trying to slip away, but Sam was too quick for you. She grabbed your hand before lighting back into her brother. "It's one thing to skip out on me, but really? Skipping out on dinner with mom last night?"
"Shit, that was last night? I thought that was supposed to be tonight. God, I'm so sorry Sammy, I promise I'll make it up to you and mom. I promise."
The beast would not be tamed, however. Sam, you're typically sweet best friend had a side to her that luckily rarely showed. The angry side. The side that could be heard across the county. The side that would slash all your tires. "Well, you fucking better Jung Hoseok." With that, she turned around and dragged you out of the coffee shop while you tried mouthing 'I'm so sorry' to the bewildered and painfully embarrassed Hoseok.
Sam would later explain that she brought you along for the wild ride for two reasons. First, so you could stop her from committing a crime. Secondly, but most importantly, because you were the one with a car and she didn't want to pay for an uber over to the coffee shop.
You know that in her heart of hearts Sam was angrier at the general shit show her family had turned into than Hoseok per se. He had just been the one closest in proximity and therefore the line of fire. Her parents were getting divorced, her family falling apart, and Hoseok had just kind of ghosted her. Bullshit reasons about fighting off the guys or whatever that had been earlier weren't good enough. She was angry at being abandoned. By her parents, by her brother, by the world. College was supposed to be the start of freedom, but for her, it had started in shambles. The two of you hadn't known each other before university, but you were in the same major and worked at the same small used bookstore and had fast become friends and then inseparable best friends. She spent more nights than you could count on the floor of your dorm just to get away from it all, and because you had lucked out and gotten the smallest room that was honestly more like a closet and could only house one bed so you had no roommate.
After that incident, she had broken into a fit of angry tears in your room and explained all of this to you. A word vomit of pain, anger, and angst. This all should have done something to dispell Hoseok to you, and yet it hadn't. Instead, you wondered what was going on in his head. You were curious about how and why he had withdrawn from his sister when she explained that before he went away to school they were closer than close. That he had always been her protector, her best friend. Sure they fought, they were siblings after all, but they were each other's rocks. Until he was just gone. And she thought going to the same school as him would fix it. Instead, the distance somehow felt larger now. So close in proximity but emotionally miles and miles away. Again, this should have shattered the perfect image of Hoseok that had been crafted in your brain after that odd encounter months ago but instead, it lent depths and layers to the man that made you want to peel everything back and study it closely.
The third time you would meet Hoseok would be proof that the first encounter had, in fact, happened. It was two in the morning approximately a month later. You stumbled out of bed in a zombie state, sure that the only person who could possibly be knocking on your door this late at night could be Sam. It wasn't (unfortunately) entirely uncommon with her insane sleep schedule. So when you swung the door open in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear you could feel all color drain from your face at the sight of a very tired and sweaty Hoseok standing in front of you.
"I know this is going to sound really weird, but my girlfriend and I broke up and I've been crashing couches but my friend has someone over tonight so then I tried sleeping in the library but it was just too uncomfortable so would you mind if I crash here? I noticed last time you didn't have a roommate. I can take the floor." Now you had two options at this point. (You're too tired to come up with 5 this time, thank god it was a lot of work having to detail your thoughts last time. You really should stop overthinking, I'm a little worried for you at this point. Sorry, I'll get back to the story.)
Option #1: slam the door on his face and crawl back into bed. You don't technically know him and it's not your problem.
Option #2: have pity on this painfully good-looking man and kiss a decent night's sleep goodbye because lord knows you won't be able to sleep when he's in the same room as you a second time.
You went with option number two. Who are you kidding, you aren't evil enough to go with option number one. You just pray that his new distance with his sister and break up with his girlfriend isn't because he's actually secretly a serial killer and is going to chop you up into tiny bits. Although...on the plus side of that...no student loans!
You opened the door wider and stepped off to the side. Covering your mouth for any offending morning breath as you spoke. "Sure, I've got an extra pillow and blanket too." You wanted to say more. There were so many questions about this random appearance, but really you didn't feel it was very polite to ask any of them. Not that knocking on the door of a near stranger at two in the morning to see if you can crash there is polite, but really one of you needs to respect boundaries. Right?
"Thanks, I really appreciate it. Free coffee and baked goodies for life when I'm on shift. I promise." He stretched and let out a loud yawn as you tried to grab a pillow and blanket for him without bending over. He took them from your hands gingerly and you watched him try to get comfortable on the floor before you turned around, shut off the light, and crawled back into bed.
You tried counting sheep. You tried doing simple math. You tried willing sleep to come. But everything brought your thoughts back around in a vicious cycle to the man laying on your floor. The man you knew almost nothing about. Save that he was your best friend's older brother, worked in a coffee shop, and went to the same school as you. Dance major, and that had earned him being cut off from his family financially if you remembered correctly. But that doesn't mean you know him. You've never actually had a proper conversation with him.
At the sound of you stirring in bed once again you can hear his gravely voice from the floor calling out to you. "Can't sleep (y/n)?"
You thought about playing dead or asleep or whatever. But figured there was no point. So instead you mumbled a quiet, "yeah."
"Me neither. Can't sleep for shit lately." He pauses for a moment before sighing. "I'm sorry for just showing up here. I know we don't know each other, but I wasn't sure where else to go."
"Nah, it's cool. Mi casa es su casa." You can hear him give one of those small snort laughs, the kind that's more like a loud exhale through the nose, and you can feel little butterflies start to hit your ribcage.
"Well, I really appreciate it." You wait for a moment before calling out to him.
"Are you okay, Hosoek?"
"Ah, the million dollar question. I don't know. Are any of us?" There's something about the way his brooding words contrast sharply with his typically sunny appearance that has your heart singing. All of those layers around his heart built up like an impenetrable fortress has your curiosity in overdrive. It's not a safe place, you know that. But there's something about Hoseok that just lights things up around you.
You've never been interested in another man this way. Every single person you've ever dated or hooked up with has been out of convenience. You were actually starting to question if you were some subcategory of Asexual. If there was a sexual category for people who couldn't hold romantic interest but did still get horny. That's a thing right? Aromantic? But Hoseok, now Hoseok is the type of guy that you can picture curled up next to after sex tracing at all of his tattoos and talking about everything and nothing for hours at a time. The type of guy that makes you start to understand why high school crushes are so painful. And you know it's slightly irrational. You know next to nothing about him, but god do you want to. If you could change your major to Hoseok you fucking would.
After a long pause, he starts talking again. His voice hoarser, as if he's trying to hold back tears. Or maybe he is crying, you can't tell in the dark. "No, I'm not okay. And I don't think I have been for a really long time. My parents weren't exactly the loving type. I tried my best to be there for Sam, but the moment I could get my freedom I took it. I rebelled, and my father cut me off for it as I'm sure she told you. But I didn't care. I was finally free. I was finally doing what I wanted, and I met this girl. I thought she was the love of my life. The one, you know? Listen, I don't normally give good advice but never date someone who tattoos you because it's going to end and you're going to wish that you didn't get all of them from her. I used to go into the shop just to see her. And then we started dating. And then she started cheating. And now we're not together and I don't have a place to live and it's middle of the year so I can't do dorms again and apartments are way too expensive. My boss said he'll give me the room in the back of the coffee shop tomorrow after he clears everything out, so at least after tonight I'll have a place to stay. But everything's a mess. My family is a mess, I'm a giant fucking mess, my grades have been slipping lately and I might lose my scholarships, and I've been homeless for a week now."
Why did you have to really like the guy with all the baggage? The one with neon blinking signs that say 'no trespassing!' The best friend's older brother who has serious emotional issues to hammer out who's spilling his guts to a near stranger at three in the morning? And why is it that you have the emotional skills of a fucking rock at this moment? "Wow, that fucking sucks man." Really, that's all you can muster up? You tack on, "I'm sorry," for good measure.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm sorry for dumping this all on you. I uh...I don't usually talk about this kind of stuff. To anyone. I guess you're just easy to talk to."
"You should try talking more about it. It's not healthy to keep it all bottled in, you know?" You can hear him shuffle on the pillow, nodding his head you assume while you try not to squeal when he said you were easy to talk to.
"How's Sam doing by the way? I've been a really shitty brother..."
"Good right now. She had a few mental breakdowns, but she's on the quick road to recovery. She's taking the family falling apart in stride. She said that she kind of always knew this would happen, I think the harder thing has been the lack of contact with you. But don't worry, I won't tell her anything you told me. Just...talk to her when you're ready." You pause for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts before you add softly, "you know it's not always a bad thing for something to fall apart. Think of this as a new clean slate. There's still plenty of time this semester to pull your grades back up. And like you said you've got a place to stay lined up. And your parents...well there's nothing you can do about that. It honestly sounds like it was all for the better from the stories I've heard. Just...work on things one at a time. Don't try to do everything at once because then you won't do anything. And if things ever feel overwhelming like I said, mi casa es su casa. Think of me as like the emergency friend therapist or whatever."
"Thanks (y/n)..." You can feel your cheeks heat up from the tone of his quiet voice and pray that your voice doesn't sound too squeaky when you call out a quiet goodnight.
The next morning Hoseok is already gone by the time you wake up at ten. He's folded up the blanket and left a note on top of the pillow. "(y/n), thanks again for everything. If you ever need anything just let me know. (###) ###-####. -Hobi."
It wasn't fair the way your heart hammered away first thing in the morning. It also was admittedly really creepy that the next thing you did was pick up the blanket to see if it smelled like him. It did. And you very much approve of his cologne choice. It's woodsy and citrusy and you're incredibly thankful that no one is around to see your face buried in the blanket. After your brain clicks back on and you realize that you're a certifiable creep at this point you slowly enter him as a contact. A strange, unfamiliar part of you wanted to give him some cutesy name but you realize how bizarre that would look and instead you simply enter him in as 'Hoseok' with no additional heart emojis.
Part of you really wants to text him. Perhaps use the excuse of checking up on him, because you were actually really curious. There was a lot going on in his life and by the sounds of it he was cracking under pressure and not talking to anyone about it. Instead, though you simply stare at the contact, take a deep breath, and get ready for work.
-----------------three weeks later--------------------
"Oh, come on (y/n), it'll be fun! Please? You always turn down my party invites but I promise this one won't be too over the top. It's not even at a frat house or anything!" You try not to glare in Sam's direction as you put away the last of the books received in this morning. You aren't exactly a party person. You're the mom friend, that's your role and while you don't readily admit it it's the truth. You're the friend that at parties always inevitably gets stuck trying to corral your pathetic, drunk, and often times sick friends back home. Which is why you don't do parties. That and they make you slightly claustrophobic. It's not that you hate people, you just prefer more conversationally stimulating environments than a party has to offer. Also, you hate the smell of shitty beer and body odor, which is the main fragrance of all college parties. And random creepy drunk dudes who smell like said hated fragrance mixed with cheap body spray trying to get into your pants? Yeah, that's a big no for you.
"Sam, I don't know. I mean, you know how I feel about parties. Listen, I love you. And I love hanging out with you. But I've seen you drunk, and it ain't pretty. Besides, I still have that paper I need to finish for my Lit class." You try to avoid her potent puppy eyes as you walk behind the counter to slap price stickers on the rest of the books.
"Listen, if you don't wanna go that's fine. But like, when's the last time you got some? It's been months since you broke up with Aaron, and from the sounds of it he didn't know how to find a clit so do yourself a favor and just come with me for a little bit? If there are no guys there that spark your interest ditch me. But don't use the paper as an excuse to stay in your fortress for another lame Saturday. It's not even due for another week and you're already in editing phase. We literally had that conversation half an hour ago." You make the mistake of glancing over at Sam. She's giving you more than just puppy eyes, she's even giving you a full quivering bottom lip. Ugh, why do you have to be such a sucker for her?
"Fine. Fine, I'll go." You hold up your hand as she starts squealing, "But I make no promises on staying for very long."
------------------------
Two hours later and you're nursing a warm Smirnoff ice in the corner. Not surprisingly thirty minutes ago almost immediately after entering the party, Samantha ditched you for a guy who looks like he does keg stands professionally. You swear she has the worst taste in men. The obnoxious little voice in the back of your head cackles at the sentiment, reminding you that at least Sam isn't pining after a guy who just so happens to be her best friend's brother that she knows next to nothing about other than he has a mountain of baggage and most certainly isn't interested. You take a swig of the warm, sweet drink in spite until your eyes lock onto the man standing in front of you. You're pretty sure you have a class with him, what was his name again?
"Jimin." Shit, can he read minds? "Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out you just looked like you were trying to place my name. We share that intro to lit class."
"Ah, yeah sorry about that I'm-"
"(Y/N), yeah I know. You're kind of hard to forget."
"Oh." You'll admit, Jimin is very cute. But cute is really the key word for him, and try as you might to summon an urge to jump his bones you just don't feel anything. There's no spark there, no lust to drag him into the nearest bed and explore all he has to offer. Too bad getting over a one-sided crush isn't that simple.
Jimin is about to say something, but he's soon tackled by someone behind him. "Dude, it took me forever to find you. Yoongi's refusing to play beer pong on my team. Please, help me?" Jimin narrows his eyes on the other guy before swiveling back to you, his lips jutting out into a formidable puppy pout that your sure would make most women swoon.
"Do you wanna come with? You looked a little bored." You should say no, you should just crawl back into the comforting confines that is your bed and pray to whatever deity to allow you to go back to a normal life where you didn't know a demigod walked the campus but no instead you fall prey to the puppy pout. Again damnit. (Y/N): 0, puppy eyes: 2.
"Sure." Jimin looks triumphant as he grabs your hand and weaves through the throngs of people until you arrive at the back porch where things seem to be much more comfortably quiet. Until you lock eyes with the earlier mentioned demigod himself.
"(Y/N)?" Hoseok stares at you in disbelief for a moment in front of the beer pong table, before smiling. Oh god, that smile. You swear you can feel your heart trying to escape from you again, you can hear corny Disney music playing in the background, an angel halo placed above his head as a random backlight makes his tan glow nearly gold until you blink away the momentary insanity. You wish you could blame all of that on alcohol, but you haven't had nearly enough liquid courage to induce that montage.
"Uh, hey." Fuck, why did you have to say uh? Jimin is staring at the interaction and oh god, he knows. He fucking knows. And you can't kill him, not here. Too many witnesses. Instead, you'll just have to pray for the world to open up and swallow you whole. Or a zombie to come over and take you first in the zombie apocalypse. Jimin, thank the sweet heavens, doesn't say anything. He just looks at the two of you a moment before winking at you and taking his place across from Hoseok.
"You ready to go down, Hobi?" The other boy looks eager to start, he's stretching his wrists while glaring at the other team.
You cast a glance behind you and take a seat at an empty bench to watch it all unfold. The boy that roped Jimin into all of this is Taehyung, and the one on Hoseok's team is Namjoon. Yoongi, the one who refused to play, at some point ambled over to you and offered a cigarette before beginning to loudly tell you why everyone playing sucks each time they miss. You're assuming based off of the shit eating grin on his face that he's doing it solely to mess everyone up, and it works on just about everyone. Except for Hoseok, who seems completely unaffected.
It doesn't take long before everything is over and Jimin and Taehyung are forced to chug the remaining drinks. You polish off the last of your sugary alcoholic drink and start looking for the nearest escape before Hoseok is ambling over towards you.
"Hey, I didn't expect to see you here. Is Sam here?" You nod quietly before slowly adding.
"I wouldn't...uh...go looking for her though." Hoseok sighs and nods before sitting next to you on the bench.
"You don't seem like much of a party person."
"I'm really not. But it's nice out here, it's quiet." You glance over to see Jimin giving a now very drunk Yoongi a ride on his back. "Your friends are interesting."
Hoseok snorts. "They're idiots, but loveable."
"Did you get that room situation at the cafe all figured out?"
"Yup, got all my stuff moved in and everything. Thanks for not telling Sam by the way. I've been talking to her you know."
"I know, she's been over the moon about it. Oh, you know your mom is coming over next week?"
"How do you know this and I don't?" Hoseok sighs but adds a quiet thanks.
"Oh, uh, sorry. But, I know that they're planning on doing dinner again. I think we're going to Olive Garden, which means plenty of breadsticks to swipe."
"We're?"
"I was invited." Hoseok chuckles at this before shaking his head.
"I think I should be offended that I've been replaced."
"You haven't been replaced by me. I'm telling you all this so you can make sure to talk to your mom if you want to go. Or avoid it like the plague, it's your choice."
"Thank you. I suppose I've done enough avoiding though, I'll try texting her." At this point an awkward silence begins to fall and before you start babbling you decide to finally make your exit.
"Well, I should probably get going. I'll see you around." Hoseok jumps up, shaking his head.
"I'll walk you home." He holds up his hand as you start to protest. "I need to get going anyways and you're on the way. Besides, it'll give me a great excuse to get out of here before they try to wrangle me into another round."
You nod and start to walk forward before you call out behind you, "I'll see you in class tomorrow, Jimin!" Jimin sends a bright smile to you and waves, sending another all too knowing wink before Yoongi accidentally (at least you hope it's accidentally) starts strangling him.
You weave your way to the back gate with Hoseok in close proximity as you start quietly making your way to your dorm. There's a lot that you want to say, but you aren't sure really what you should say. After all telling him that he's breathtakingly handsome probably won't end well. You mean, it might, but probably just for a night and for once you're not really interested in catch and release.
"So...you never texted me."
"Well...I haven't exactly had a need to." Oh god, you sound so harsh. "I mean, I didn't really want to bother you unless I really needed help or something. I figure you're pretty busy."
You glance over at Hoseok to see him...smiling? He's actually smiling? "Well, it doesn't have to be an emergency or anything. Text me, whenever you want. I mean it (y/n). I appreciate all the help you've given me, so even if you just need someone to like vent to or something I'm here for you." God, he isn't helping matters. Why can't he be an asshole that you could just hatefuck and get everything out of your system? "Looks like we're here. Have a good night (y/n). It was nice seeing you again."
"Um, you too Hoseok!" You turn away quickly and dash into the dorm. Never have you been more grateful for your tiny dorm room and not having a dormmate before as you squeal into your pillow before flipping onto your back and staring at your phone.
It feels like ages before you finally type out on the too bright screen, "Did you make it home okay?"
You get a response just a moment later.
[Hoseok]: Yes mom
You groan before staring at the typing bubble pop up and disappear repeatedly. God, what is he typing? Why won't he just fucking say it? Does he hate you? Did he not really mean it when he said to text him whenever? Do you look clingy? CURSE THOSE THREE PERIODS! Oh god. You heaved a sigh of relief when you finally see the text appear.
[Hoseok]: Just kidding, it was nice seeing you again btw
[you]: How have things been going for you btw?
[Hoseok]: Better, I took your advice. I'm doing better in my classes, I've been talking to Sam more. Things are starting to actually look up.
[you]: That's great! I'm glad things are doing better!
[Hoseok]: How about you though? Any dudes I should beat up?
Have you just been banished to the sister realm? You're pretty sure you have been.
[You]: No I'm pretty boring. Just trying to finish all of my papers.
[Hoseok]: what's your major?
[You]: Creative writing, made the mistake of taking ten classes this semester, and most of them are morning lectures.
[Hoseok]: Are you a superhuman? Like, how???
[You]: I've given up on free time
[Hoseok]: You sound like you need a break
[you]: When I space out too long I can actually hear my grades falling
[Hoseok]: ah, the woes of college. I'm glad I don't have to do many papers for dance
[you]: Yeah, but you still have to practice and perform and honestly I'd rather have someone shoot me in my face than have to perform in front of people
[Hoseok]: Wow, those are some intense feelings you have there
[you]: Most sane humans don't enjoy being in front of others like that. I don't know how you do it.
[Hoseok]: you get used to it. I promise. Hey, I have a performance upcoming that you might really like. It's in a month
[you]: Oh yeah! Sam told me about that, she already got us tickets
[Hoseok]:...she could have just asked me for them? I can't believe she actually paid for them
[you]: I think she was trying to surprise you. Please don't tell her I told you
[Hoseok]: It'll be our secret. Again. We seem to hold a lot of secrets, huh?
[you]: I blame you.
After that the two of you send a few memes back and forth before you finally fall asleep, your dream being an odd montage of Hoseok dancing and kissing you in the rain until Sam starts screaming at you. Luckily the Sam screaming at you part seems to do more with her poorly timed wake up call.
"WAKE UP ALREADY!" Sam unceremoniously rips your blankets off of you as you blearily open your eyes. "Christ, I swear you could sleep through anything. Wanna go get coffee? I have so much to tell you."
You grunt in response before slowly changing and trudging behind Samantha as she heads over to your car. Luckily she doesn't even protest when you toss her the keys and try to squeeze in a few more minutes of sweet sleep before you pull up to Hoseok's coffee shop. God, why now? Why couldn't you have spruced up a bit more? Worn something other than a ratty t-shirt and leggings to see him again? And your face still has pillow marks, god this is horrible. You take a deep breath and follow behind Sam, praying she hasn't noticed your delay.
The world must truly hate you because the moment you walk in you see Hoseok behind the counter smiling over at the two of you. "Hey sis, you won't be screaming at me this time, right?"
"Unfortunately today I've decided to be civilized. Also, I came for free coffee." Hoseok snorts before nodding for her to continue. "Um, two flat whites. Also whatever muffins you recommend."
"Got it, I'll be over to you guys in a bit." You try shrinking away as quietly as possible to the couch that Sam flops down on.
"Listen, so I was going to go you know hang out with Bobby last night,"
"Ew, his name even sucks."
"Shut up! Anyway, as I was saying, I was going to but then all of a sudden that girl Heather the cheerleader all the guys are goo goo eyed for? Well, she came out of nowhere and started screaming at Bobby for knocking her up! Swear to god, I felt like I was living an episode of the Maury show." Samantha goes into more detail and you can feel your eyes glazing over. You actually have no clue who this Heather is, and you honestly don't care. You feel bad that Sam got stuck in the middle of it all, but this kind of drama has always been uninteresting to you. You're not sure if you should shriek that Hoseok has to once again witness you in this state or thank the gods that Sam finally seems to be finished telling the tale at the sight of her brother.
"Hey, Hobi, wait! Before you go I've been meaning to tell you that Mom asked me to invite you to go to dinner with us next Friday. Do you think you can make it?"
"I'll see what I can do. What time?"
"Around six I think? At Olive Garden, which means all the breadsticks we can steal for later!" Hoseok winks at you as Sam occupies herself with her blueberry muffin for a minute.
"Got it, I'll be there." You try your best to not get caught watching him walk away. God, even his ass looks great. How do some people get all the good genes while you're sitting here looking like an unwashed potato?
--------------------1 week later---------------
You're munching on a breadstick, listening to soon to no longer be Mrs. Jung go on and on about how proud she is of Sam as your eyes narrow in on Hoseok sauntering over. No man should look that good in just a white T-shirt and jeans, and you're having a hard time not staring. Over the last week, the two of you have texted nearly nonstop. He's sweet and funny, and he has an arsenal of really good memes that he sends you at the most unexpected of times. It's just not fair. You can't have it all. You can't look that good AND have such a killer sense of humor and be witty and intelligent.
Sam keeps pestering you asking who you could possibly be texting, and at one point you blurted out Jimin. Which isn't entirely a lie. The two of you have actually hung out a few times this last week, and he is convinced that he needs to be a wingman for you and Hoseok so you're pretty sure he'd have no problem covering for you. Apparently, you need to work on your poker face better if Jimin caught on so quickly. You hate that you've lied to your best friend, but at the same time you're not sure how to spill the beans that you have a thing for her older brother who she's incredibly protective over. Someday either you'll get over it or you'll finally buck up and tell her. Today, however, is not that day.
"Hobi, my baby!" Mrs. Jung jumps up at the sight of her son and wraps him into a tight embrace before reluctantly pulling away so he can have a seat. After quietly wiping away a stray tear her eyes laser in on the tattoos. "When...did you get all of those?"
"Uh, about a year ago I guess." His eyes cast down at the table, guilt clearly washing over his features at not having seen his family in so long. "You know mom, I uh, I have a dance performance upcoming and I have a solo part. I'd really like it if you could come."
Her eyes finally look away from the tattoos and back up to his face before she nods. "Of course, of course, I'll come. You know, I always did think you were a great dancer it was your father who-"
"Mom, mom it's okay. We know. Let's just enjoy tonight." Sam interjects and you find yourself awkwardly cramming a breadstick into your mouth as you try to astral project out of this family conversation you're intruding on. Hoseok glances between the three women around the table before cracking up loudly at the sight of your cheeks stuffed to full bread capacity.
"Oh, Hoseok I guess I've never properly introduced you to (y/n). (Y/N), don't let his looks fool you. He's super lame. He once failed a test because he was up all night playing pokemon go and he's super loud which is totally not cool."
"Sam! Be nice to your brother!" Hoseok laughs as he waves off his mother's warning.
"Well, at least I don't still sleep with Mr. Porky your childhood stuffed pig."
"YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!"
Your eyes dart between the siblings as they quarrel with one another. Siblings look like fun, and there's something so heartwarming about the way how they interact even when fighting. Okay, well maybe not that time that Sam ripped him a new one at his job, but this time it looks fun. It's also nice to see Hoseok so relaxed and happy, so comfortable and not like the world is going to fall apart or with a bunch of thorns sticking out of his hair.
The rest of the night you try not to glance over at Hoseok too much. It's hard to keep up the conversations and not include him, but you realized rather quickly that speaking to him too much cause your cheeks to burst a flaming red and words to come out slightly wobbly. It's so easy to text him, but in person (especially while trying to keep your friendship as a secret) it's like fighting a boss battle. By the time you get back home you're exhausted, utterly wiped out from trying to keep yourself sane.
-----------
A month later and you're sitting next to Sam as the performance finishes up. You've never seen modern dance before, but you can guarantee it won't be the last time. The way he moved, the raw emotions that each movement gave it was like watching a silent movie but knowing all the dialogue. It's also at this moment that you realize you don't like Hoseok. You don't have a crush on Hoseok. No, you love him. You love his quirky sense of humor, you love the darker brooding side of him, you love the way his eyes turn into little crescents as his cheeks press up when he smiles, you love the way he's so effortlessly him. Perhaps you fell in love the moment you started texting him, the moment you started unraveling this. But this is dangerous and unfair to your best friend and to Hoseok who most likely sees you as only a friend. So before the very end of the show, you fake a stomach ache and head home, you're in far too much of a mess at this stunningly obvious realization to see Hoseok face to face with his family around.
The guilt that already felt heavy to begin with now feels like a boulder on your shoulders when you get a text from Sam followed by one from Hoseok shortly after, both of them concerned how you're feeling. While at first, you wanted to save your integrity instead you just say, "I ate too much ice cream and didn't take a Lactaid." There, embarrassing but believable and certainly easier to admit than "I'm head over heels in love with Hoseok and I've been secretly texting him." It's at this point that you do something even dumber, you text your secret ally Jimin.
[You]: I have a problem
[Jimin]: ?
[You]: I'm in love with him. Please shoot me.
[Jimin]: No thanks, I don't handle blood well. But you just noticed this? How are you slow on the uptake about your own emotions?
[You]: Ouch, could you try to comfort me. I don't know what the fuck to do
[Jimin]: Put your big girl pants on and tell him
[You]: Fuck no. Are you crazy? My best friend, his fucking sister, doesn't even know we talk
[Jimin]: Yeah I know. Just tell her.
[You]: Life isn't that simple assface
[Jimin]: I'll take that as a compliment, I have a great ass. Also it is that simple. I assure you. It only doesn't seem that simple because you're afraid. Don't be. I know Hobi and...just trust me if his sister is anything like him tell her and trust me when I say just be honest. What's the worst that can happen?
[You]: I'm not ready to hear no, I think I might die from heartbreak
[Jimin]: Ohmygod you are so freaking dramatic. Tell them bitch or I will!
[You]: You fucking wouldn't
[Jimin]: Well someone has to...
It's at this point that you throw your phone at the wall out of frustration at the same time as a few knocks are heard on your door. Fear seizes you at the thought that it might be Sam or Hobi. Fuck. Fuck. Oh god, you really screwed yourself over. "Open up loser, I know you're in there."
For someone so cute and tiny with such a quiet voice you've learned that Jimin certainly has a snarky side to him which you've clearly awakened if his tone through the door is anything to go by. "Don't wanna. Let me die in peace."
"I will kick the door down in five four three" You begrudgingly open the door for him before shutting it and shuffling back under the blankets.
"What are you doing over here Jimin?"
"Trying to talk some sense into you. Besides, emotional support is better in person. So, I saw you at the show tonight. Snuck out early huh? I left as soon as I got changed to stop you from blubbering alone."
"Got changed? You were there?" You don't remember seeing Jimin in the crowd, although you were rather focused on the show.
"Ouch, I'm one of the dancers remember? How cruel and heartless." Jimin fakes a sob before he socks a punch on your shoulder and wraps you up in his arms. "Seriously though, I know it's scary but just tell them already. Look at you, you can't keep this a secret much longer. It's like ripping a bandaid off, you need to let it happen."
You try to weigh everything out, and you spend the next hour formulating a plan with Jimin. He's right, you do need to tell them. And while Jimin thinks you should tell Hobi first and get it over with, your allegiance to your friend holds more importance to you. Instead, you decide in the morning you'll talk to her first and then you'll try to talk to Hoseok. It might ruin the friendship that you've built, but it's no use pining after him from a distance. As much as you hate to admit it, Jimin is right. It's time to finally come clean after months of this.
-------------
It was now or never. It was d-day, game time, time for the world to possibly collapse and have your best friend punch you in your throat. You're nervously clutching at the hem of your hoodie as she blabbers on about dinner with her mom and her brother, and you can feel yourself almost bursting. You have to tell her, and soon.
"Ugh, I feel so bad that you had to miss dinner though. We went to this little Mexican place and they had this flan that you would have loved. I would have saved you some but one I have no self-control, let's be real, and two you would've just forgotten to take a Lactaid and gotten sicker."
"Sam," You take a wobbly breath and interject her thousand words a minute rambling. She looks up from her phone and rolls over on your bed, an eyebrow cocked at the serious tone in your voice. "Sam, I uh, I have something to tell you..."
"What, you're fucking Jimin? Yeah, I figured that one out already. So what, are you guys dating or just-"
"What? NO? Oh my god, no why would you-"
"-Well, why wouldn't I? When I was talking to Hobi about it last night even he agreed that you guys must be dating. Especially when he took off so fast after the show suspiciously around the time that you left. You don't have to lie about."
"Oh. Oh god, oh no. Hobi doesn't really think that, does he? Fuck. Okay, Sam, Jimin was right I need to be honest. I'm not fucking Jimin, nor have I ever-"
"That's a shame, he has a great ass."
"Yeah, sure, back to the point." You can feel a cold sweat start to take over as you gulp in air, "I'minlovewithyourbrother." You say the words as fast as possible, eyes squeezed shut as you brace for impact.
"What? You're...howzthatevenpossible? Since like when? And...love...not like...girl I am so confused." You slowly open your eyes, one at a time to see a very lost look on her face.
"Okay so it's like this...I've met Hoseok before the incident at the coffee shop. Way before. Only once though. He passed out on campus and I helped him out. We didn't talk. But then at that party where you ditched me for Mr. Keg stands-"
"-His name is Bobby, and I told you we didn't have sex he-"
"-Knocked up the cheerleader, yeah I know. Anyways, we ran into each other at the party and we got to talking and then we started texting and I know he sees me as just a friend or maybe just a friend of his sister...but...I really like him. Like him like him, like love like." Great, now you're incoherent. Sam is dumbfounded, and for once she isn't talking. After a moment of awkward silence, she clears her throat.
"You do realize he's a dork? Like a giant dork? And that he freaking lives in a coffee shop? And that he has a lot of baggage? And that honestly, as your friend I should warn you, probably has gotten an STD at some point in his life? Like...you're way too good for my dipshit older brother. I love him, but like honestly. Him?" Well, this wasn't the direction you expected at all. "I get that some girls think he's cute and all, but you've never had to do his laundry. It's gross. He smells like gross boy."
"He smells like citrus and pine needle most of the time, you can't blame him for sweating when he dances."
"Did...did you just defend his body odor? And how the fuck do you know that he smells like citrus and pine needle? What, are you some kind of scent expert? You know what, no please don't answer that. I don't want to know." Sam shakes her head before clasping your hand. "Listen, I'm not here to police who you date or who my brother dates. I'll support you. Or console you." Gee thanks for the vote of confidence. "But I think I might have fucked everything up. You should talk to him soon."
"Well yeah, you did kind of make him think I was fucking Jimin. How bad was it?"
Sam tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she recalls the memory. "Well...he was pretty surprised, but then he put on his typical 'nice guy' smile and said that you guys made a good pair and he could see it."
You groan in frustration as you grab your phone, getting ready to send him a text before Sam slaps it out of your hold.
"No, nope, you're not texting him this. Listen, there's a party tonight that I know he'll be going to after he finishes up work. You're going. That'll be the best way to talk to him." God, not another party. This isn't at all how you wanted to admit your stupid feelings. Damn emotions, you swear they're like dandelions growing in the least expected places. But the look on Sam's face says she's not going to take no for an answer. But she's right, if he's working right now the best time to get a hold of him today will be at that party.
You take a deep breath in and nod resolutely. Just because she's right doesn't mean that you have to like it and you still stand by your hatred for parties. At least this time you have a reason. As long as you can find Hoseok. "What if I can't find him?"
"I'll text him, dummy. I've got your back."
"More like you'll have the popcorn to watch this all unfold."
"Well, yeah that too. But I mean, I'm rooting for you." You pick up a pillow and hurl it at her face before groaning as you flop over her on the bed.
"What time is the party?"
"Well it starts at 9, and it's five now. So if I were you I would start getting ready now."
"Now? What for?" Uh oh, you know that face.
-------------------
There are few things in life that Samantha Jung loves more than giving people makeovers. You've been thoroughly groomed and primped to perfection and it somehow took the full four hours. Your skin is glowing in a way you didn't realize it could but after enough exfoliating, a clay mask, a sheet mask, and a hydropack later it's sparkling in a way that shouts "I drink tons of water and eat my weight in kale!" Not that you do, you probably should though. You're highlighted and contoured to perfection, and while Sam is clearly proud you have zero problems with admitting that it will never look this way again. She did at least let you wear your own comfortable choice of jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers.
"He's in the backyard, playing beer pong again." Jimin appears by your side the moment the two of you walk in, answering the golden question before you can even think it.
"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me Jimin." Jimin snickers as he hands both of you drinks.
"Sorry about that princess. Well, what are you waiting for? Go show your very dewy face off to him."
"Oh god do I look like an oil slick?" Sam hits him as you pull out your phone and check in the camera.
"No no no, you look great." Jimin is trying to stop the blows Samantha is hurling his way as you sigh and glance around the party. You don't know most of these people. Apparently it's mostly music and dance students celebrating that they've finished all of their showcases. You can feel dread fill you with each step closer to the door as you move past the crowd. It feels like ages before you're finally standing in front of the door. You take a swig of the Kool-Aid and bottom-shelf vodka concoction before finally stepping out.
If you weren't oily before you know that you will be soon. It's humid, sticky, and sweltering even after the sun has gone down. You can see the fireflies already coming out, cicadas can be heard buzzing in the distance, and you're sure mosquitos are actively hunting. If it weren't for your eyes landing right on Hoseok you would've walked right back into the comfortable air conditioning. Why anyone would want to play beer pong outside in this weather is beyond you.
You take a deep breath before promptly taking a seat next to Yoongi. You'd like to lie and say you walked right up to Hoseok, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him...but that's not asking for consent for one, and you also would probably fall flat on your face if you tried. Yoongi nods your way before offering his cigarette, you shake your head in a silent response before taking another swig of your drink.
"Hey Yoongi, who's the new friend?" A man you don't recognize stops playing beer pong momentarily and you try hard to not sweat as you feel Hoseok's gaze land on you.
"(Y/N), what are you doing here? Oh! Jimin just walked into the house if you're looking for him." You try not to laugh too pitifully as you wave your hand as if to shoo the thought away.
"No, no. I know where he is." You're so sorry Sam, but it's your turn to throw her under the bus. "In fact, I'm pretty sure he's still with Sam. She had some sort of uh...misunderstanding that I think she's rather eager to sort out." You look up from the dandelion you've been concentrating on when you hear his sing-song laughter and you feel like you've been sucker punched in the gut. His hair is slicked back for once, cheeks glowing a pretty shade of pink under the patio light, sweat trailing down his temple onto his collar bones and all of his tattoos on full display in his tank top. Lord give you strength to not die from thirst on the spot.
"Sam has a bad habit of jumping to conclusions."
"Hey, are we going to play or what?" The guy you don't know throws an empty cup at the back of Hoseok's head as he speaks. Hoseok rolls his eyes before sending you a wink and turning back to the broad-shouldered stranger.
"Yeah yeah Jin. Ready to get your ass kicked again?"
There are a few things you learn in the next few minutes. Hoseok is really good at beer pong, you figured that last time but considering that the defeat only took a total of three minutes it's much more obvious now. You've also learned that Jin sucks and that Yoongi loves nothing more than to pick on him each time he misses. Which is every time.
"Aish, that's it. I'm done. I quit." Jin groans after chugging back the last cup before he ambles over to another group further in the backyard. Yoongi coughs before winking at you and heading over with Jin, leaving you and Hoseok alone. Bless that tiny angry man for being the best unexpected wingman. Hoseok glances around for a minute before sitting down next to you.
"You were really good by the way. The show I mean, the beer pong too though. I had no clue someone could dance like that. You chose the right pursuit in life, I'm sure of it."
Hoseok laughs as he takes a swig of beer. "Thanks, I appreciate that. It's a shame you had all that ice cream. Lactose intolerant huh? I've been fucking you up with all those free coffees and I didn't even know it." You can feel your cheeks burning bright red as you jump to your feet. The sudden movement causes Hoseok to jerk back as you point your finger at his chest.
"For your information that was a lie, although I would appreciate if you used almond milk in the future. But that's beside the point! I was completely fine, just a scaredy cat. So here goes nothing, Jung Hoseok I'd like to take you out on a date!" You can feel the blush travel from your cheeks up to your ears but force yourself to look at Hoseok. He's smiling, ear to ear with cheeks pushing his eyes into those cute little crescents you love to see.
"Okay. Let's go."
"What?"
"You said you want to take me out on a date. I'm saying yes, let's go. Come on, what are you waiting for?" Your mind goes blank as he stands up and clasps your hand in his. It's so warm (kind of sweaty if you're honest, but hey, so is yours) and so perfect. Your brain freezes, your mental record scratches as you follow him through the house and out to the front lawn. (Excuse me, this is your friendly narrator, I'd like to interrupt for just a moment. This story could have been much shorter if you didn't overthink everything so much. Believe in yourself more! Okay, that's enough interruptions. I'll get back to the story now.)
"Wait, wait, Hoseok where are we going?" Hoseok gives you a bright smile as he looks down at you.
"There's a diner a block away from here. You didn't bring your car did you?" You shake your head no as you follow him. "They do really good pancakes. Breakfast for dinner is the best." At the sound of you suddenly going mute Hoseok looks back down as he squeezes your hand reassuringly. "So why'd you ask me out?"
"Why wouldn't I? You're hot for one, but you're also really funny and sweet and relatable, and honestly, it's impossible to not fall for you. You have this bright sunny smile, but under all these layers is this really sweet but vulnerable man that I..." Hoseok stops walking for a moment, his face turned away as if to hide the blush creeping up his face. You take a deep breath before asking, "...why...why did you accept?"
"Why wouldn't I?" You laugh at the way he imitates you before he starts walking again. "You're beautiful, and you've saved my ass twice because you're either insane or insanely nice, you're funny, smart, and the moment we started talking my life turned around. Honestly, yesterday I wanted to punch Jimin in the throat but then I realized it was my fault for not beating him to the punch. I would've asked you out if you hadn't, you know. Ah, we're here." Hobi leads you into the diner and slides into a booth as you slide into the other side. You stare down at the shiny black lacquered table for a moment before peeking up to look up at Hoseok.
He's peering intently at the laminated menu. You've never noticed before but he has beautiful, long fingers with well-groomed cuticles. "Do you get manicures?"
"No, but Sam recently had one of her makeover moments with me and decides that my nails had to have some work done on them."
"She did a good job, they look nice." Hoseok glances up and smiles at you before sliding another menu to you. You take it and stare down for a moment before a waitress comes up to your table.
"What can I get you guys?"
"Oh, uh I'll just get a water and a small stack of pancakes."
"A sprite and the stackhouse, eggs over easy." The waitress nods as she scribbles it down before walking away. Hoseok fiddles with a napkin for a moment before piping up. "Okay, so really important question here, what are your top songs right now?"
"What genre?"
"Rap?" He looks hopeful and you pull up your phone.
"Well, always J Cole and Kendrick, but let's see...songs...hmm. Recently I've been listening to Justin Bieber by Coogie a lot, Uzuhan by Uzuhan, Pink Blue Dawn by Dumbfoundead. Honestly, I've been listening to more R&B lately. Lots of Sabrina Claudio, Sinead Harnett, and Steve Lacey."
"Holy sweet Jesus, mary me."
"Were you praying to Jesus and his mother or asking for my hand in marriage?"
"A bit of both."
"Oh well Kevin in first grade and I got married by the swingset after he gave me a ring pop so I think I'll have to get those divorce papers first. Sorry. My turn for questions. In a dream world, what would you be doing?"
"Well marrying you because Kevin never gave you that ring pop obviously, and I'd be working as an established choreographer with my own studio."
"You'll get there. I'm sure of it."
"Such confidence. What about you? What would you be doing?"
You want to say 'you' to him but you would definitely die from embarrassment. You can see the shitty epitaph now just thinking about it. "Well, I guess I'd be an established author on a much-needed vacation on a beautiful island basking in the warm sun without a worry because I've dug myself out of student loan debt."
"Ooh, that sounds nice. I'm thinking Hawaii, ooh or maybe Jeju, you know it's the Hawaii of Korea?"
At that moment the food comes out and the two of you spend the next hour or so discussing random topics until finally, you get up to leave after not so subtle hints from the waitress that you've overstayed your welcome. The two of you choose to walk back to your dorm rather than wait for an uber. It's only a few blocks away and it gives both of you more time to just bask in each other's presence. You never guessed that he would say yes to a date, or that it would feel so natural. All this time you've been able to hide away with text messages, making it easier to be unguarded the way face to face conversations typically make you a nervous ball of anxiety. But with Hobi? It all just feels so right, so easy as if it was supposed to be this way all along.
You can feel your heart sink though with each step closer to the dorm, and you're pretty sure that Hoseok feels the same way based off of how he slows down. By the time you're standing in front of the building, you're suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to not let the night end, afraid that you'll wake up tomorrow and the fairytale spell that's been magically cast will vanish.
His hand is still tightly gripped around yours, the moon and dim security lights casting a silvery glow over his skin. Cicadas are still buzzing, fireflies glowing in the distance as if to remind you that the night isn't over yet. You glance up at Hobi and notice that it looks like he's trying to say something but no sound is coming out. His lips are slightly open, brows furrowed together. God, his lips look so soft and perfect and pillowy. Before you can even think you're standing up on your tiptoes and weaving your free hand into his hair as you softly plant a kiss on his lips.
What starts out as a soft and unsure peck quickly escalates as he grips your hip and deepens the kiss. He tastes like syrup and sprite and everything right. You can feel yourself growing dizzy, hungry for more as his tongue parts your lips. You always assumed he'd be a good kisser, if you're honest you've fantasized about it far more than you'd ever willingly admit, but he's even better than you could have guessed. A soft breathy moan leaves your mouth as he brings your bodies closer together and the guttural groan that leaves him as he finally separates and the two of you try to breathe has you reconfirming that you really don't want this night to end.
"I, wow that was..." Hobi's eyes are glittering, the world cast in a haze of twinkling euphoria as you look back up at him.
"Hobi, would you like to come up with me?" You're suddenly regretting your sudden boldness at the way he stops moving for a minute. Perhaps you're moving too fast, maybe he thinks you're a floozy or something and you've ruined it. Your overthinking goes into overdrive before his hand cups your chin and forces you to look back up at him.
"I would love to, but if I go up there I...listen I really want you. So if you just want to hang out I need you to give me a second so I can calm down." At that, you peek down to realize that he's clearly grown excited, and you can feel a surge of need trickle down your panties.
"I...I don't want to just hang out. I want you."
"Ah, fuck. Are you sure?" You nod your head before reaching back up and placing a firm kiss on his lips. The green light seems to go off in his head at this, his hands gripping you tightly to him as tongues melt together before he pries away and you quickly lead him up. Unfortunately, the elevator has been broken for almost the entire year so you have to make the trip by jumping up the stairs, fever clawing at you the closer you get.
By the time you're finally in your room you can feel sexual tension hanging thickly in the air. The moment you shut the door he hooks your legs around his waist and presses you against the wall, mouth quick to find yours again. Your hips jut against his, desperate for friction at this point and the groan of pleasure that leaves him has you clawing away at his shirt. You knew that he had a great figure, you've seen it before at the recital but to see it so close in person is another story. Your hands etch over his firm abs, dipping down to that oh so drool worthy V as you unbuckle his pants while his lips attach to your neck.
"I don't think you understand how long I've wanted you." Hobi stops his ministrations as he speaks, eyes boring into yours before he moves you off the wall and onto your bed. You watch as he shuffles out of his shoes and pants before crawling back over you. In a matter of moments, the two of you are both in just your underwear, his eyes trained on the obvious wet patch of your pink underwear. "You look so beautiful, so perfect."
The feeling of his soft fingers trailing over your body raises goosebumps, your eyes shutting at the sensation as one hand trails from your calf up to your inner thigh. "Look at you, so wet for me. All for me, all mine." His words have you whimpering, your hand gripping his.
"Please touch me, I need you. Please, Hobi." His eyes squeeze shut for a moment as he grips at your thighs, shuffling until his face is just millimeters from where you need it.
"How can I say no to that face?" Finally, he's tearing off your underwear. For a moment you're afraid that he's just going to stay there forever, face hovering over before finally he dips down. You're so wound up that even just the lightest pressure when he lays his tongue down and licks one long stripe has both of you groaning in satisfaction. "Fuck, how do you taste so good?"
"Please stop talking and just help me. I need you. I need you so bad." You weave your hands through his hair, trying to move him closer to where you need him most. Hoseok shoots you a smirk before relenting, finally diving in like a man starved. His tongue is everywhere all at once, diving between your folds one second before reaching back up to swirl around your swollen clit. Your hands grip tighter into his hair as your hips roll on reflex at the sensation. If the rumors are true and Hoseok really has fucked half the campus at some point then you must admit that the studying has been worth it. If the rumors aren't true then he's either a sex god or a prodigy because holy shit you've never felt yourself come so unglued just from oral sex before.
His hands grip your asscheeks to bring you closer as you mewl out his name, his own pleasure rumbling deep from his chest and vibrating through you. God, this is so much better than your own fantasies. "Fuck, fuck, you're so good. Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm going to cum." The tell-tale knot deep in your belly is on fire, legs quaking around his head as you throw your neck back. The feeling of two of his fingers gliding into you as he latches onto your clit is all you need to tumble head first into euphoria. Everything feels fuzzy as if cotton has been stuck in your ears and your muscles have become weightless. Floating. Flying. Breezing right into heaven.
You don't even realize that you've been moaning the entire time, or that Hoseok has stopped moving to watch you as you fuck yourself onto his fingers slowly, coming back down to reality as the stars fade from your vision. "You're so beautiful, I could watch you all day." His voice is gruff with desire as he leans down and captures your lips in a wet, needy kiss. "I need you, I need you right now." His lips lead a sticky trail down to your chest as he finally pries the offending bra off and flings it off to the side of the bed with an ominous sounding crash that neither of you pay attention to. You're too absorbed in your own lustful world to notice anything else.
As his teeth bear down onto your nipple your hand grasps his clothed erection. God, why is he still in boxers? The sudden attention being placed back on him has his eyes closing as a guttural rumble of pleasure leaves his throat. You try to pry his boxers off, but at the angle you're positioned in you can only manage to get it down half his ass. In lightning speed he's standing before you bare, his weeping cock bobbing proudly in the air. The sight has you drooling as you shuffle closer to see him. Veiny, thick, shining with precum. It looks delicious as he slowly fists it, eyes boring into yours the entire time.
"Do you...have a condom?" Hoseok's voice breaks you out of your spell and you nod before reaching over to your nightstand and pulling one out. He quickly grabs the foil and you watch with keen interest as he rolls it on and tosses the foil into your small waste bin. "You're...you're sure about this right?"
"Hobi, I've thought about fucking you more times than I can count. Please, fuck me already." His adam's apple bobs at the admission and he pulls you up into a heated kiss before twisting you around and placing you on all fours. One hand pulls your ass apart as the other grips your hip for support. The feeling of him finally entering zaps you with electricity, each small movement as he sinks further into your dripping cunt has your eyes rolling back into your head.
"Holy shit, how are you so tight?" You clench at his words, hips rolling back to urge him to move. "Keep doing that baby girl and I'm not going to last long." The pet name has you moaning, hands gripping the sheets tighter as he slowly pulls out and slams back in, balls slapping against your swollen clit. Hoseok sets into a steady pace, hips slamming into yours each time he hits your cervix. You feel so full, so utterly filled and the knowledge that it's Hoseok, finally him deep inside you has your head reeling and your second orgasm fast approaching.
"Faster, I'm going to cum!" He grunts as he twists your hair around his hand, pulling you up so your back is flat on his chest as he drills into you at a brutal speed. The sound of moans, flesh on flesh, and wet sex fills the room.
His mouth lowers to your ear as you start spiraling out of control, "come on, cum with me baby girl. Let go." For the second time you see blinding white, toes curling as his hand circles over your clit, walls clenching around him as you milk him to his own completion.
The two of you remain there for a few moments, panting as you try to come back down to earth before you finally slump forward, his softening cock slipping out. When you turn around you see him grinning back down at you, pushing his hair out of the way as he flashes you that full crescent eye smile you love so much. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he ties up the condom and tosses it. He rolls onto the bed and pulls you into his arms before speaking.
"You know, I can't remember the last time I was this happy? You're just so beautiful, and funny, and nice and I don't want you thinking that I was only in it for this. I...I know the rumors about me but I haven't been that guy in a long time. And I really want this..us...fuck do I sound super lame right now?"
You place a soft peck on his cheek as you beam up at him. "No Hobi, you don't sound lame at all. I kinda figured on the rumor front, considering your ex and how serious that seemed. Besides, I don't care even if it was still true as long as you...only want me...now..." Your voice trails off towards the end, cheeks heating up as you look away before glancing back up at the sound of his loud laugh.
"Trust me, you're the only thing that's been running through my mind for months now. I'm all yours."
"All mine?" You watch him smile and nod before he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. The act feeling somehow so intimate. That night you fall asleep in his arms, trying to count all his tattoos as the two of you whisper about everything and nothing all at the same time. You were right, he's certainly the kind of guy that you can lay in bed with for hours after sex so that's exactly what the two of you do.
One year later Hoseok graduates and the two of you are more in love than you thought possible. Two years later the two of you are living together as you try to finish up your degree. Three years later and you're working for a publisher while trying to establish yourself as an author as Hoseok finally opens up his own dance studio. Four years later Hoseok proposes to you in front of the slides at a park with a beautiful morganite ring, sneering a comment about 'take that Kevin' after you tearfully accept. Five years later and you're walking down the aisle as Sam bawls her eyes out as your maid of honor. There were ups and downs in the relationship (luckily usually between the sheets), but the two of you worked through everything. Somehow that crash landing all those years ago brought Hoseok into your life, and you wouldn't change how anything happened for the world.
#btssmutclub#hoseok smut#hoseok fanfic#hoseok fanfiction#hobi smut#hobi fanfic#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#hoseok reader insert
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Do not drink and drive
This post details the car accident that I survived.
It will be about how the accident occurred.
What happened to me (Injuries, Court).
What happened to the drunk driver (Prosecution)
and where I am, now.
TW: graphic details of car accident trauma, pictures of x-rays (when I get them). Details of out-of-body experience, and potential glimpse on the afterlife.
In 2015, I had just bought a brand new car, a black and gunmetal grey Volkswagen CC. I loved that car, and I was going to treat it like it was my baby. I bought the big, thick manual that details every part of the car so I can fix it myself if I ever need to.
I didn’t even have the car for more than 3 months.
I was at an intersection, about to go north (one way) on an entrance ramp to the highway. I saw these headlights coming toward me. I didn’t think anything of it at first until I remembered “Wait a minute, this is one way.” Before I could finish that thought, he had collided head-on with me. “Why didn’t you react earlier? You knew you were on a one-way street.” Let me tell you, even though you *know* you’re on a one-way street, to see headlights coming at you is confusing. It’s disorienting, and usually it’s way too late when you remember that YOU’RE the one going the right way, and this motherfucker is about to hit you.
He was in a huge pickup truck called a “dually”, it’s a pickup truck that has a set of two wheels in the back and has a hell of a lot of horsepower.
When he collided with me, his truck went over my car, nearly crushing me in the process. One of his tires was about 3 inches away from my face.
I was pinned under the dashboard, I had lost consciousness. I vaguely remember someone holding my hand and saying “It’s going to be okay. Just stay with me.“ I had an out-of-body experience, I saw myself getting extracted out of the car. I was pretty beat up, my face was scuffed up and bloody from the scrapes of the airbag hitting me. When I was pulled out of the car, my limbs were listless like noodles. I remember seeing my legs… My feet, in particular. Both of my ankles were dislocated, and my hip was dislocated and it looked like it was nearly coming out of my skin.
This is where my out-of-body experience ends. I briefly regained consciousness in the ambulance, I don’t remember if I had an exchange with the EMTs or anything like that, because soon I had fallen asleep again.
Then I remember waking up at this house that I had never seen before. There were people everywhere, music being blared, it looked like a party. I approached the door and my friend Evan, who had died several years before in an accident where he was killed by drunk driving, was at the door with is arms crossed.
I’ll never forget this shocked expression on his face as he asked me "What the hell are you doing here?” and I was like “What are you talking about? You invited me.” He scoffed “Like hell I did, man. Go back home. You’re not supposed to be here.” I thought he was just being an asshole, and we were always confrontational with each other… But it’s all in jest. I posted up to him and said “Fuckin make me, man.”, and then he shoved me.
The shove was so realistic, so jarring, so violent that I had fallen backwards— and then I woke up in the hospital, and according to my mother I was on my way to Radiology to get xrays when I came to. I don’t know if I caught a glimpse of some afterlife, or if I was dreaming, but it was very real. My mom knows that I almost died, and watched me fight for my life.
Anyway, they had to restrain me because the drugs that they had given me made me combative. I was taken to the hospital where my mom works, as it was the closest hospital to the accident scene. She was also on duty that day, and for her to see me like that *had* to have been traumatizing to her.
Apparently I continued to go in and out of consciousness, and when I finally came to for good, I was in the ICU.
The moment I woke up, I felt this whole body pain, like an elephant was sitting on me. Not just my chest, but my whole body felt crushed under this gigantic weight. It was so much pain that it literally felt like weight, like I had woken up on a different planet and the gravity was crushing me. I begged and begged and begged for pain relief, I couldn’t breathe. My mom put the morphine control in my hand and told me to press it. I clicked that thing probably 4 or 5 times. It probably only worked once, but by then I didn’t care. I was so divided from the pain that it didn’t matter anymore.
My mom told me what happened, and what my damage was.
1) I had brain damage and a severe concussion. I was monitored in the ICU for 3 days to make sure I didn’t have a brain bleed they couldn’t detect. (I can’t remember the details of the brain damage). I had to relearn words, I had to relearn how to talk without stuttering or forgetting what I was saying mid-sentence, or having a word just disappear on me. This still happens from time to time.
2) My sternum had been displaced. Meaning it was fractured and pushed inward. Had my sternum been pushed in any further, I would have died. To this day, I still live with this. Because of this I cannot bind. I still cannot afford the surgery necessary to reposition my sternum.
3) My hip was so severely dislocated that it broke the acetabulum. This is the socket that cradles the ball joint in your hip. I still live with hip complications to this day. Because of this dislocation and the missing piece of acetabulum, I have degenerative osteoarthritis in my hip. I am a fall risk without a cane. I need a hip replacement, but surprise, I cannot afford the surgery.
4) Both of my ankles were dislocated and had bilatural fractures… Which means I had fractures on both sides of both ankles. One of the ankle bones was crushed beyond repair. I needed rods, plates, screws, and a bone graph. I still live with ankle complications to this day. Because of the surgeries and extensive injuries, I have degenerative osteoarthritis in my ankles. If I am to be on my feet or walking for more than an hour, I need to wear boots that are high topped to support my ankles. The drunk driver’s insurance was able to cover these surgery… However, as it became apparent over the years that I needed more surgeries and had more complications because of the MVA, it turned out that the drunk driver had changed auto insurance companies. Since America is the Greatest Country In The World™, health insurance providers DO NOT COVER INJURIES THAT ARE A RESULT FROM CAR ACCIDENTS. You have to go through the at-fault party’s Auto Insurance to get your bills paid. However, SOME health insurance companies WILL temporarily cover what is needed and will go after the at-fault party’s health insurance on your behalf.
But since this fucking shit smear changed insurance companies, I am absolutely fucked, and I can’t track him down to sue him.
5) I have damage to my eardrum. Luckily, it was not punctured by the force of the airbag hitting the right side of my face.
6) I have nerve damage in my knee (somehow? I don’t understand it, either) I can’t kneel on it. I either feel nothing (like the body part isn’t mine or something?) or excruciating pain when I try. There is no in between. Sometimes the nerve damage *itches like fuck*, but I cannot scratch it, as I will either feel nothing, or it will hurt.
7) I have nerve damage on the tops of my feet. I do not like it when my feet are touched. It causes electric shock feelings that travel to my ankle. It’s not pretty.
8) I have nerve damage in my face. I have Trigeminal Neuralgia that is secondary to trauma. Look at my “bloggy” tag to learn more about this.
9) I now have fibromyalgia. When it’s cold, or rainy, or if I’ve pushed myself too much, I will wake up the next morning feeling like I just came to in the ICU. Where I feel this full body pain that’s like an excruciating weight. Luckily, marijuana helps me with fibromyalgia and trigeminal neuralgia flare ups. I take a 2,000mg of gabapentin (spaced throughout the day) and 200mg of seroquil to manage them.
10) I have PTSD that is triggered by the smell of hot metal, the sound of circular saws, and by car accident scenes in movies. It took me forever to get over being gunshy in an intersection, and to even drive at all.
I was bedbound for 2 months, and wheelchair bound for 8 months. I was taking physical therapy and speech therapy for a year before my restitution to cover it had run out.
Needless to say, my quality of life had taken a drastic decline, compared to me pre-accident. Before the accident, I was in shape again. I was gaining muscle and I was close to meeting what I call my “healthy dad-bod” goals. I was going to go to police academy that year, but that was because I wanted to be an investigator for the Crimes Against Children Unit. I’ve had to reshape my future entirely. At the end of it all, my bills were $110,000. Luckily, I only had to pay $10,000 out of pocket, and that’s *LUCKILY*
So, what happened to the drunk driver?
The trial did not last long, he has been given 10 years probation (and straight to prison if he violates), mandatory rehabilitation, and to pay me restitution. Which had recently run out. I don’t know what has become of him, because as I said, I cannot track him down to sue him for my ongoing injuries.
If you are EVER considering driving while drunk, don’t fucking do it. Do not think you are invincible. Do not think it’s not going to happen to you. Do not think you’re not going to hurt someone. I don’t care if you are a “functioning alcoholic” or a “seasoned drinking veteran”, you WILL fuck up. This man that had hit me was 63 years old, and has probably been driving drunk for who knows how long. And once you DO fuck up, you are going to kill somebody. IF they DO manage to live through YOUR mistake, their life is changed *forever* and their quality of life will NEVER be the same again.
You are garbage the moment you sit in the driver’s side with booze in your blood.
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I've always been an ambitious person. In grade 11 (2013/14), the school counselor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. My answer?
a) Attain my Ph.D in a science (neuroscience or another biology related field)
b) Become Prime Minister of Canada
or
c) Become secretary general of the UN.
Well, I haven't gotten any degrees, joined a political party, been elected, or anything like that. I decided that veterinary medicine was what I wanted to pursue. I loved the hands on work, the science, and the figuring out what's wrong with this patient aspect of working in vet med.
I've had headaches most of my life, but they got worse after a concussion in 2015. My menstrual cycle has also been problematic. I remember in the eighth grade, I was lying on the floor in gym class because of the pain. The teacher asked me if there was any way I could be pregnant, because I looked worse than her friend who was in the hospital with morning sickness. I said no, I've never even kissed a boy.
I was seeing a neurologist in the summer of 2016 for my headaches, who suggested I try Botox. Thirty-two needles and a ton of anxiety later, my migraines were bearable, enough that I was able to go to college. The Botox made it so my headaches were less severe and less frequent... For a while.
By January 2017, the Botox was no longer helping, at all. I tried the injections again, and while waiting for them to work, I missed 5 weeks of school. At that point, I had no hope of catching up, so I withdrew from college. I was then put on amitriptyline, and gained 20lbs over the next few months. I fell into a deep depression. If I was unable to go to college, and unable to even function like a remotely normal human, what the hell was the point in living? I felt like a financial and emotional drain on my family and significant other. My neurologist said that since the Botox stopped working, there was nothing else he could do for me. This was the person who was supposed to solve my problems. Not even the doctor who had gone to post-secondary for over a decade could fix me, or even suggest how to move forward. As you can imagine, this made me extremely angry.
I don't really remember much of 2017 after I withdrew from college. There was a few fun events (a wedding, a trip to the city with my boyfriend). I eventually was able to work 2 half days a week at a antique store. The ONLY reason I was able to work was because my boss was incredibly understanding. There were days I would get a migraine halfway through getting ready for work, and he was always okay with me not coming in, even at the last minute. Despite the immense guilt I felt for calling in sick, having a job gave me a sense of purpose, albeit small.
In 2018, I finally got into a pain program. There, I saw a nurse practitioner who said my symptoms sounded like fibromyalgia. I didn't realise that normal people aren't exhausted all the time, or have body aches, or brain fog. For the past few years, I thought I just wasn't trying hard enough. I thought if I just pushed myself harder, or thought more positively, I would be able to lead a normal life. I blamed myself for not being able to finish college. I had no idea all my symptoms were NOT normal. I didn't realise normal 21 year olds don't need a 3 hour nap after vacuuming. Until August 2018, all of my symptoms were treated as separate issues.
I was soon diagnosed with fibromyalgia by my family doctor, and started a new medication. At the same time, I started a new part time job; one that I could do 85% of it from my bed, and the other 15% was one day a week. Within a few weeks of being on my new medication, I noticed I wasn't fatigued as easily, and that I had more energy. I still slept most of the day after a busy work day, but I was ABLE to function every Wednesday from noon until 10PM. This was something I hadn't been able to do for almost 2 years. I started taking online classes, just one at a time.
Like I told my therapist, I like a sticky brain. I firmly believe in being a lifelong learner, and I know I'm at my best when I'm filling my head with knowledge. Summer 2018 I had a good sized garden. I've read that having your hands in the dirt is good for your mental health, and being surrounded by plants and butterflies and a cool breeze on a hot summer's day does wonders for one's sense of self. Covered in dirt in a sundress is the most comfortable I am. Sure, my back aches after spending 5 minutes pulling stubborn weeds or dodging thorns in the raspberry bush, but it was going to be sore laying in bed too.
From gardening, I planted new goals. Goals like being kind and understanding. Goals like learning about chicken behaviour or knitting a new scarf. Making candles or trying a new recipe. Reading a new book. Understanding the world a bit more.
I still need opioid pain relief. I still have severe migraines. There's still days when I can't get out of bed because my body is simultaneously on fire and frozen solid. I'm still angry it took so long to find out what's wrong with me. I'm angry that I'm stuck with this for life. I still long to go back to college. At least now I have a word, instead of “I feel like a steaming pile of garbage ALL THE TIME” I also have attainable goals. This year I'm trying to grow more flowers and veggies. I'm trying to read more. I'm working on a children's book. I'm writing more, and listening more. Fibro is a life sentence (for now), but how I choose to deal with it is up to me. So I choose to continue searching for a reason to stay alive. I focus on what I CAN control (like which varieties of tomatoes I plant).
Some days the only reason I get up is because I know my chickens rely on me for food and water. Some days I want nothing more than to not wake up; to not have to face another day in a body that tries to self destruct.
I don't know what my purpose in life is. I don't know if I even have one. But I'll keep on trying. Because the sun will rise, and I will try again.
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Here's some stuff to do and listen to.
7/20/18
Are you ready to receive some suggestions to entertain your fine selves? ‘Cause I’m ready to give it.
For those who are local: My dad and brother run NYFO together for Green Bay. What’s NYFO? WELL. “NYFO 7on7 Football is the next generation of player development, no matter your skill set. NYFO is the NATIONAL GOVERNING BODY for 7on7 & Non-contact Football. Our leagues, camps, and training exist to ultimately transition better, safer, and more fundamentally sound knowledgeable players. NYFO is committed to helping every player in our program improve no matter their skill level. By doing so we will ultimately enhance the sport of football, from youth organizations through the NFL. NYFO is ‘Non-Contact’ For parents, ‘non-contact’ can be translated into ‘one-hand touch.’ Without the distraction of full-contact, players can focus on fundamentals. With so much negative media attention given to concussions and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI), 7on7 offers parents a safer alternative for kids wanting to play football.” Quick additional info: They offer programs for age groups 8U, 10U, 13U, 15U, and 18U. Go to their website if you’re interested in signing your kids up! Okay but anyway, if you need something to do this Friday you should go to a Bullfrogs baseball game! Bullfrogs “Stars Of Tomorrow” fundraiser family & friend tickets are $18 and include your ticket (duh), a Bullfrogs hat, a hot dog, AND a soda! A damn steal if you ask me. It helps out NYFO and you’ll have something fun to do! All registered players from NYFO get in free with and a portion of the proceeds from family/friends tickets sales going to the NYFO by simply using code “NYFO7on7” at the point of purchase. Go to greenbaybullfrogs.com, click Buy Tickets Now in the top right corner, and enter the promo code (NYFO7on7). Gates open at 6:05pm and the game is at 7:05pm! See you at the diamond on July 20th! Give them a follow on Instagram! @greenbay.nyfo
I never really blog about music for how passionate I am about it. I have mentioned before that I sing, too. I’d love music even if I couldn’t sing though. Anyway, everyone loves finding new music, right? I’m gonna tell you my most listened to artists and songs on my Spotify. First, I’ll tell you how I found this data. I found this question forum on this link: https://www.quora.com/Is-there-a-way-to-see-my-most-played-artists-songs-in-Spotify. You’ll see in the answer that there’s Spotify.Me or there’s ManageMyMusic to see your most listened to stuff. Spotify.Me is intricate and gives you information like your favorites, streaming habits, and listening insights. Apparently, what I listen to the most is considered to be a bunch of different types of “pop.” I don’t know if I agree with that. They also tell me that “I know what I want” because 84% of my favorite artists are within my most-listened to genre. That I can agree with. It says I’m high energy lately in my streaming choices, but I don’t see it. I have been choosing really chill music, in my opinion. The other link in that question/answer forum is called ManageMyMusic and it gives you a ton of lists; Top artists and tracks for the “Short Term (4 weeks),” the “Medium Term (6 months),” and for the “Long Term (Years).” I’ll give you my top ten for each category, though I know there will be overlapping. I obviously love everything I am about to include so please give this stuff a listen. You’re about to get an intimate peek at my soul.
Top artists -- Short Term (4 weeks)
Jon Bellion
Drake
Milky Chance
Hozier
Andrew Belle
Bazzi
Aaron Carter
Roy Woods
dvsn
Troy Sivan
I didn’t realize that I listened to that much Jon Bellion lately. I mean, he is fantastic. I just didn’t realize I listened to so much of him in the last month.
Top artists -- Medium Term (6 months)
Drake
Blackbear
Tory Lanez
Marc E. Bassy
Jon Bellion
Bazzi
Post Malone
Hozier
Aaron Carter
Sam Smith
I can say for DAMN SURE that Baby has heavily influenced who I listened to these past 6 months. Drake has always been my man but I never listened to Blackbear, Tory Lanez, or Marc E. Bassy before I met him.
Top artists -- Long Term (years)
Drake
Sam Smith
Troye Sivan
Andrew Belle
Justin Bieber
Jon Bellion
The Weeknd
Jessie Ware
Hozier
Tove Lo
None of that even remotely surprises me.
Top tracks -- Short Term (4 weeks)
Jessie Ware, You & I (Forever)
Hozier, Jackie and Wilson
Sabrina Claudio, Orion's Belt
Jon Bellion, Overwhelming
Jon Bellion, 2 Rocking Chairs
Vance Joy, Mess Is Mine
The 1975, Somebody Else
Jon Bellion, The Good In Me
JAHKOY, Still In Love
Young the Giant, Cough Syrup
This is all very "me" lately.
Top tracks -- Medium Term (6 months)
Alina Baraz, Show Me
6LACK, Learn Ya
Tory Lanez, I Sip
Blackbear, moodz (feat. 24hrs)
Marc E. Bassy, 4am
Tory Lanez, Skrt Skrt
Ansel Elgort, Supernova
Bazzi, Mine
Post Malone, Psycho (feat. Ty Dolla $ign)
R I T U A L, Better By Now
This list is definitely Baby-approved.
Top tracks -- Long Term (years)
Justin Bieber, The Feeling
Troye Sivan, WILD
ZAYN, PILLOWTALK
Snakehips, All My Friends
Tatiana Manaois, Helplessly
Bryson Tiller, Don't
Chris Stapleton, Tennessee Whiskey
Sam Smith, Not In That Way
Hozier, Work Song
A R I Z O N A, Let Me Touch Your Fire
Honestly, the first 5 tracks do surprise me a little, but that was back when I had my music on constantly when I was single and home alone quite often. I remember keeping those on repeat for hours at times, so I’m not sure how accurate that actually is only because of that fact. This was all super cool to see, though. Some of it was expected, some unexpected. Either way, I hope I gave you some new stuff to listen to! And you should check out for own profiles. Nice opportunity to learn a little about yourself.
This past weekend, it was pretty warm out. Baby and I wanted to get Nugget a sprinkler so I took the little one with me to the store aaaaand they were sold out. Due to all the warmth. So I bought Nugget some water guns instead. We got 2 smaller ones and 2 larger ones for THIRTEEN DOLLARS, TOTAL. YEAH. This s’mom was shocked by that price, that’s for sure. We played and sprayed when we got home. Baby and Nugget had some fun together. The first thing Nugget did when we filled his gun though was spray me right in the (get ready) vagina. Yes. Then he yells, “I’M SPRAYING YOU IN THE PARTS.” I was like, “Uhhhhh, let’s not spray anyone’s parts and also let’s talk about anyone’s parts. It’s not polite and those are private” LOL. He’s never said anything to me about private parts or anything so that was new to me. He walks into my room when I’m changing a fair amount of the time and I know for a fact he’s seen more than I meant him to, but he has never asked questions, pointed anything out, etc. I think it’s important to set an example for your children in the sense to be comfortable with their bodies and such. This might be a whole new chapter with Nugget! We will see. Enough about my “parts” and back to the water guns. Baby said that on one of the weeks that we don’t have Nugget, that he wants to do a water gun race with me. I got 2 free beach balls from Sprint when I got a new phone last week (among a ton of other free shit, which I'll tell y'all about soon) and Baby said we should see whoever can get the beach ball across our backyard the fastest by spraying them with the water guns. I honestly think that sounds more fun than any idea I've ever had LOL. It reminds me of when I almost bought us both Nerf guns. So, if things are little mundane (or even if they’re not) maybe you and your love should find your inner children together! Get water-balloons and have a water-balloon fight, chalk up your driveway, set up obstacle courses, have a scavenger hunt! You can make it interesting by making fun deals. Whoever loses has to make dinner, for example. I think we will try all of these ideas eventually.
Speaking of shopping with Nugget, I am in the process of teaching him about not asking for toys every time we go. Baby went through a break up after a 3 year relationship before we was with me. He told me that he felt awful that Nugget no longer had two people raising him and Baby made up for that by buying Nugget toys every time they went to the store. I could tell there was a reason why Nugget would ask like clockwork what toy he would get every time we went shopping. I have been working on breaking Nugget of that expectation, as well as working on having him appreciate the things he has at home. I explain to him Daddy and I only have a certain amount of dollars and that its usually only enough to buy what we needed from the store in the first place. He actually understands this concept very well. He always asks why we are going to the store, so I always have the opportunity to tell him what we need to buy. When we went to buy the sprinkler he asked me, "Can we get a toy from here?" and I replied with, "Buddy, remember what we came here for?" He answered correctly about buying a sprinkler. I said in a very positive tone, "Yep and I'm pretty sure we only have enough dollars for a sprinkler. And you also have a bunch of toys at home that you love to play with." We walked by a few things that piqued his interest. As we walked by some bubble-guns, he goes, "Oooh, those look fun. But we only have dollars to get the sprinkler." I was so proud of him for making this connection and also proud of myself for explaining it to him so that he really does understand this. I was raised by people who didn't explain things. It was always a "because I said so" type of world and I learned to accept it. I won't put Nugget in that world, though. I want him to recognize reasoning and be able to grasp why things are the way they are. He is incredibly intelligent and capable of knowing this information. I also want him to trust me and be honest with me as we grow together, so the first step is me trusting him and being honest with him first. Just wanted to share my super proud s'mom moment of the week. I'll be back tomorrow with new recipes for you!
#music#sports#spotify#songs#playlists#mymusic#listen#enjoy#blog#newblogger#blogger#entertainment#newblog#wife#life#lifestyle#lifestyblogger#life stuff#stepmom#smom#model#love#loving#live#living#married#marriage#20something#imnoexpert
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The 2018 Rumination Spectacular
It’s a long post. It’s gonna be triggering. Blacklist “ash 2018″ and “long post.” Sorry mobile users. Here’s a picture. Use this as a warning that you should blacklist those tags NOW if you don’t wanna read:
For about a week, I’ve wondered how to start this post. How to finish it. What to put in the middle. It’s really a shame, being depressed and anxious and all sorts of other things but maintaining a high self-esteem. It’s not like I want to. My mind and my brain and my body refuse to let me just be. They constantly remind me I have to be center stage, the best, to be adored.
Let’s be honest. I don’t have high self-esteem. I have an obsessive, insatiable desire for love because I was born to abusive people. I was raised by more abusive people. I’ve continued to place my trust and well-being in abusive people. And then, when things fall spectacularly apart, I blame myself. I blame my body. I blame my brain. I blame my mind.
A lot has happened this year. A big thing: the realization that I desperately crave others to want me. I want to feel loved and valuable and interesting and just wanted.
And, I guess, that’s what school gave me. I left my PhD program in May 2017 and it’s taken almost two years to realize I didn’t stay in school or move into higher education because I had a burning passion (okay, I mean, I do still have a passion for my work but it wasn’t the foundation). The American education system gave an abused child something slightly better than I had: praise and positive feedback for jumping hoops. My home life twenty years ago? There was no rhyme or reason to which behaviors would yield which result. School? College? Grad school?
Let’s face it. I’m white. At the time I was identifying as straight and female. I was going into STEM. Perform well, earn As, be friendly. Rules rules rules.
Two weeks ago, I finally told my therapist of almost five years how my first sexual experience was a doctor raping me. It’s really funny. Hilarious actually how it’s taken thirty-one years to feel like I am my own person. Because before the doctor, there’d been my step-father (”It isn’t really enough to do anything with,” the police had told me when I was sixteen at my then therapist’s office). There’d been the high school boyfriend (”My dad was in the marines. I inherited his anger management problems.”).
But there was also my mom. My grandmother who isn’t my grandmother but she “adopted” my mom as her daughter. They met online on a forum for Forever Knight, a 90s Canadian supernatural romance crime show about a woman who has a vampire for a partner.
It’s really hard, yanno, to be gentle with myself. Don’t be angry.
So, 2018 was a year of me working on this. I’m still working.
I’m angry at everything nowadays. There’s no good resolution to it other than to sit with it.
I don’t understand how people can say, “Let anger go,” like I intentionally hold onto it. This anger and pain and trauma is carved into my bones and it gets carried through like oxygen in my bloodstream. Whenever I think about this anger at myself, the regret and the hurt, the left side of my left arm hurts. It starts about the middle of my forearm and goes to my pinky.
Asking when this started isn’t a useful question.
I’m angry because I let myself be used and hurt by people. I’m angry because I ignored my own needs and wants. I’m angry because now I’m thirty-one and it feels like my life is over. I made a lot of decisions and they were all made for the benefit of others. “Be your own person,” only works when you’ve got a person who isn’t desperate for love.
I’m angry because I feel like I’ve wasted my life worrying about other people.
Yes, yes. I’m not old. Don’t bother telling me. You don’t pay my bills. You can tell me what I feel when you give me money--substantial amounts of it.
In 2005, I gave my step-father $1500. I’ve been working at the local Dairy Queen for years, saving money religiously because I was desperate to get a car, drive, gain independence. My parents told me the insurance was too expensive. My step-dad was the only driver because my mom has MS. It would probably never happen, but just in case. I should save, just in case.
I gave my step-father money because he said, “The van needs fixed. Without it, you know your mom can’t get to the hospital.”
I can’t remember any night between the ages of 15-17 when the police of the EMTs weren’t at my house. All of my homework was usually left abandoned in red and blue lights. I’d get back to it at midnight.
Nothing mattered to my teachers except that I made As.
At this point, I don’t know where blame lies but it seems pretty solid that I get stuck with the anger.
2018 was the year I realized that I don’t know how to have friends, how to keep a job, how to think about a career. 2018 was the year I realized that I have to make peace with living in poverty again. I was doing so well. Grad school was the best my finances had ever been.
Until December 2013.
I tried to kill myself. It’s old news. I was in the hospital. They forgot about me and I ended up spending three more days than needed.
PROTIP: don’t try killing yourself during the holidays. Everyone will just tell you the holidays are rough for everyone. And finals. Mid-December is the time for students to also feel the pressure. If you’re neither of these, good luck.
I took out massive amounts of student loans to go back to school. To pay my hospital bills. I was so desperate to get back into school because it was the only place that made sense.
2018 was the year I decided to change my name, my gender.
I’m learning how to live in my body. It’s taken thirty-one years, but I’ve come to the realization it was mine. For six years, I took meds that made me weigh over 200 lbs all for the benefit of the high school boyfriend. For five years I starved myself because I wanted everyone to see what a successful PhD student I was.
My body has never been mine before. This is a new thing for me.
2018? It started off with hope. There was less hope for most of it. I think it’s ending with hope. I hope it is.
My mom refuses to stop calling me.
Five years ago, I stopped answering her calls. I begged her to stop. I was polite. I was rude. I was angry. I was at peace. I’ve tried everything. Her contacting me isn’t about me, it’s about her. It’s about what she wants.
in December of 2013, I tried to kill myself.
It’s so old news, my mom told my partner when he called her, “Oh. Well, let me know when everything’s okay.”
In 2009 I was admitted into the hospital for exhaustion. I’d had a breakdown in college. I was told to try yoga. Meditation. I was told it was just test anxiety.
All I’ve ever desperately wanted was to be the priority.
And I bent for other people. I broke myself and put myself back together in ways other people would find pleasing.
I bend and I break and now my body hurts. Chronically.
In 2016 I was in a car accident. My partner has told me most of this story. I remember almost nothing. I spent two months locked up in my house with a concussion. More debt. More weight gained.
My partner tells me at one point the doctors kept poking and prodding my feet. He tells me that I wasn’t responding and that my legs weren’t moving. He was horrified that the accident had left me paraplegic. I don’t remember any of this. The doctors eventually told him it was just shock. My body overloaded with too much too fast.
And not enough neuron action, I guess. Too much, not enough. I discovered yesterday that Jack Kerouac said something similar. I’ve never read anything by him. Must be a common human feeling.
Everything is too much. Everything is not enough.
2018 is right now still and I’m still working on reshaping myself for myself and not for others.
1987 was right then and thirty days before it ended, I came at the last minute.
I’ve spent my entire life trying to make sure I was early to make a good impression. Now, I arrive when I arrive. I live in the land of -ish. Work hasn’t yelled at me. Yet.
2018: I started drawing again. I started writing again. I am trying not to feel like I’m too old. I’m working. I’m trying. I’m doing. I’m poor. I feel like my college degree warrants me not that but que was que is.
I obsessively think about contacting my mom. No matter the meds, I have to count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 every time I lock the door to the comic book shop where I work. If I don’t, the door isn’t locked.
I’ve never had wide hips but I’ve always had thick thighs. My butt has always been big. My culture rather I’d accept my fate as a woman, bend myself and break myself to be one. They don’t belong to me. My thighs eat anything that comes between them.
I wish I was being literal. I wish my thighs had eaten other people’s hands and other body parts. Vagina dentata is too late for my tastes. I want my thighs to reflexively snap like a bear trap and break someone’s neck.
But I have a hard enough time finding clothes I can live with. I’m wearing the pants of Theseus right now. I’m tired of sewing patches into the holes my thighs keep eating.
2018 and I’m wondering if I will ever stop hurting.
But it’s 2018 and I know I’m a better me than I’ve ever been before. And right now, that’s enough.
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EdWin ice skating AU, chapter 9
A/N: aaand here’s the next chapter, by not so popular demand. This was a lot of fun to write, and I’m quite excited about the next chapters as well! Will Ed or Winry be able to continue their Olympic games? Please enjoy and remember to let me know what you think of this chapter because that is all I get for writing this thing. Thanks to everyone who gave the previous chapter likes and comments! Specific thanks to @mautrino for the messages! :3
Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.5, 6, 7, 8
Companion pieces (note: these are all post Olympics happenings so reading the main fic first is recommended): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Next chapter: [x]
Words: 2100+
Warnings: probs some swearing but nothing else?
“Ms. Rockbell? We have the results from your x-ray.”
Winry simply nodded at the doctor, positive that this would be the end of her Olympic dream.
“I have some good news for you. Nothing in your foot is broken. You have some strong bones, I can assure you that not many would survive a failed landing like that without broken bones. I should know, I’ve been a sport injury specialist for a long while.”
“Oh thank goodness, so that means…!” Winry interrupted the doctor before he had finished.
“However, I do want you to take it easy for at least a week. The joints didn’t react well to the collision, so the foot might get sorer if you don’t give it a rest.”
“But the individual competition…” Winry grew worried again.
“It starts in a week, right? If everything goes well, you should be able to compete. However, I want you to skip the ice practices for at least 4-5 days and avoid putting any extra pressure on your foot. Compression might do. I also want to take a look at it before the competition”
The man wrapped a tourniquet on the injured foot and suddenly leaned in to whisper something on Winry’s ear:
“Don’t tell the others, but I’m really rooting for you in the individual competition. Of course as a team doctor I’m not supposed to take a side, but I knew your parents and… I can see they did a good job raising their daughter.”
“You did? Hey, I’d love to ask you a couple of questions…!”
The doctor simply shook his head and sighed sadly. “Maybe some other time. Now, if you excuse me, I have to get to my next patient.”
As he walked away, Winry felt completely puzzled. She hadn’t expected her parents to be brought up so suddenly. It still felt good to know she had people rooting for her, and momentarily she felt much lighter, knowing she could compete again.
That was only until she remembered the scene she had seen in front of her only an hour ago.
“Ed, Ed, can you hear me?”
Figures were spinning on front of Ed, and he couldn’t make up who was where when he opened his eyes. All he knew was that everything hurt. Moving his limbs was hard. Particularly his left leg throbbed like hell. He blinked his eyes once to let the people around him know that he was conscious, but that was pretty much all he could do. Finally, he registered that it had been Roy who had asked him that question and gave him a weak thumbs up as he tried to figure out what had happened.
The surface he was laying on was really cold. The lights above him were so bright they hurt his eyes. That must have meant he was still at the hockey arena. Suddenly, he remembered some force pushing him forward harshly, causing him to crash against the boards, leg first. He didn’t remember falling, but that must have happened since he was laying there in front of all these people.
“We are gonna lift you on the stretcher now, so brace yourself.” He heard a voice say.
Ed did what ordered and soon he could feel himself being carried off the ice. He dared to open his eyes again and saw himself and his helpers approaching an ambulance, but he didn’t remember much of what happened afterwards.
Before he knew it, he was already in the hospital. The team doctor, Marcoh, was doing his best to shoo the extra hospital staff away from him because he couldn’t let them see Ed’s automail. Unfortunately, Ed’s leg and head needed a proper check-up, and since there was no way Marcoh would be allowed to handle all the machines needed in a foreign hospital, he prepared himself to bribe a couple members of the staff to be quiet about what they saw.
Once Marcoh had gotten rid of the extra staff, he proceeded to make some tests and ask Ed a few questions. His conclusion: concussion and possibly a broken leg, but thankfully it didn’t seem the hit had made a lot of damage on his other body parts, and he was now able to move them quite normally. Perhaps most importantly, the automail port and the shoulder hadn’t been affected, something which Marcoh was grateful for because if something happened to it, that would mean a big and dangerous operation.
After he was done with all the possible tests he could make without the machines, Marcoh talked one of the radiographers into helping him, and they took Ed to be X-rayed. The automail arm had to be detached before that, but Ed didn’t complain since the pain in his leg was even worse than the nasty feeling in his right shoulder when his nerves were disconnected from the automail.
Ed started to grow bored while waiting for Marcoh to analyse the X-ray in his room. Even without the headache caused by the crash, he wouldn’t have dared to turn on the TV, because he wasn’t ready to face what would likely be shown there. The Olympics coverage would probably be full of his accident and people speculating how badly he was injured. Even he himself didn’t know that, so it was ridiculous to hear other people sound so sure when they said something like “he won’t be playing any more this season” or “he’ll be up and skating before you know it”.
Ed did have enough experience on injuries to know that he most likely wouldn’t be playing for several months. All he could do now was to wait for the results from both the tests and the game and wish for the best, and that made him feel frustrated. Just when he was about to start kicking the end of his bed with his healthy foot, at least five of his teammates entered the room, happy to see him looking relatively fine despite the accident.
“So? How did the game end?” Ed asked darkly before anyone had a chance to say anything.
“We won,” Hughes said, although his voice was lacking the usual excitement. “4-1. Havoc scored an empty-netter when the Drachmans were trying to tie the game.”
“Good,” Ed grumbled, although he felt far from good in that moment.
“We really wanted to stop playing after… that thing, but rules are rules… We did manage to get away from Bradley’s post game meeting though.”
“That’s cool guys, I’m just glad you won.”
“So, how are you feeling?” Roy asked. Ed couldn’t help but notice that for some reason he almost seemed… guilty? when he asked that.
“What do you think? In pain and pissed off.” Ed let some of his frustration out. “I can’t believe my first Olympic tournament lasted less than one game.”
“But do you know that yet for sure?”
“I may be fast at healing,” he said, thinking about his automail surgery from which he had healed in record time, “but I’m fairly sure my leg is broken and it doesn’t heal in one day.”
“I guess you have a point there…” Hughes admitted, but then a wide smirk rose on his face, as he remembered something that would distract Ed from his miserable thoughts.
“Anyway… I couldn’t help but notice there was a familiar looking young woman waiting in the corridor, looking like she wanted to see you but was too afraid to ask if she could come in…”
“Oh… who…” Ed’s brain felt a little sluggish still, but when he saw Hughes’ expression, the gears in his head started working.
“Winry? What is she doing here?”
“You can ask that from her. I’m gonna let her in.”
Before Ed could protest, Roy was already inviting to girl to join them. When she stepped in, she seemed very out of place, not knowing what to say in front of all these men, but finally she managed to give Ed an awkward wave.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Winry.”
“Um, how are you? I was waiting for my x-ray results when you were…”
“Huh? Did something happen to you?” Ed stopped her, looking more worried than Winry had expected.
“I hurt my foot a bit at today’s contest, but it was nothing serious… You seem far worse.”
Ed just shrugged. “I’ve been better, you’re not wrong about that… but been worse too.”
“Right… This is probably not the best moment to ask this, especially considering… but I was wondering if we could maybe talk? Alone?”
Ed gave his teammates a meaningful look and they left the room. Hughes couldn’t help but give Ed a thumbs up before he disappeared.
“What?” Ed turned back to Winry, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Uh… I know things are kinda weird between us, and I know you said it would be better if we didn’t see each other again…” she started awkwardly. “To be honest, I still kinda want to throw a wrench at you, but… if you feel like changing your mind about what you said earlier, I’m ready to start from the beginning. You know, as friends?”
It was barely visible, but Winry thought she could see a tiny smile flash on Ed’s face before he answered.
“What made you change your mind? I said some stupid shit back then…”
“Yeah, but I talked to a couple of people…”
“About me?” Ed raised his eyebrows.
“Y-yeah, kind of… But don’t draw any conclusions!” Winry blushed fiercely when she realized the implications of what she had just said.
“So, what did you talk about?” he asked, rather cockily in Winry’s opinion.
“Well, one of them, Rose, seemed to think that I should give you some time… and then she told me this interesting story about a hockey player who had helped her to get back onto her own feet again…”
Winry smiled playfully, happy to notice Ed had counted 1+1=2 based on his reaction. He seemed curious now.
“According to Rose, that guy seemed a bit of a jerk at first…”
“Hey!”
“Shut up, you big baby. I said at first. Anyway, even though the guy seemed kinda rough on the edges, his words really reached her, and she understood that she couldn’t dwell on something she couldn’t change. That saved her career. And now? She’s competing with me in these Olympics.”
“She is? That’s… that’s great.”
“Yeah… I guess what I’m trying to say is that you have a bigger impact on people than you give yourself credit for. You affected even me before we met here, inspiring me to aim higher in my goal to become a figure skater. That’s probably partially why I’m here in this room now. You know, sometimes you really infuriate me, but…” her tone became softer as she continued: “when I saw you being carried into the hospital, I realized that… I want to keep you in my life. Despite all. As a friend, of course!” she added hastily when she saw Ed blushing and having difficulties sitting still.
“You never give up until you get what you want, do you?” he asked after a while.
“No, that’s not a trait of a Rockbell.”
“In that case… the answer to your question is: yes.”
Winry didn’t understand what he was referring to. “What?”
“You asked me if I had changed my mind… and you just convinced me. Yeah, I think we can be friends.”
“Great!” A wide smile spread on Winry’s face. “I do want us to be able to be honest to each other, though, so if something bothers you… I want to know. I will call you out if you start avoiding me again.”
“About that… There are some things that I should explain to you, but I’m not ready for that yet. I just got a concussion and missed my chance to win an Olympic medal so this is not the best situation…”
“I guess that’s fair enough… but when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here. Um, it seems your doctor wants you to get some rest,” she pointed towards the door through which they could hear Marcoh telling Ed’s teammates to leave the hospital. “… So I suppose I should go.”
She got up from her chair and turned to leave, but before she got farther, she felt Ed take a hold of her wrist and she turned to look at him.
“Winry, thanks. For saying all those things, I guess. It will probably get pretty boring here, so I wouldn’t mind if you visited sometimes.”
“Don’t worry, I will!”
Winry gave Ed one more smile, and when she disappeared from his sight, he gave a deep sigh, and thought:
“Shit. I’m screwed.”
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Questions! Yay questions!
1: 6 of the songs you listen to most? Out Tonight (RENT), Tightrope (The Greatest Showman), Candy Store (Heathers), Delicate (Taylor Swift), Gorgeous (Taylor Swift), So Much Better (Legally Blonde)
2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Taylor Swift. It would be so nice.
3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. You will have to pay for excess baggage.
4: What do you think about most? How much cleaning I constantly have to do
5: What does your latest text message from someone else say? “I once again work until [private information], but I hope you have a great day”
6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on? It depends.
7: What’s your strangest talent? I’m doubled jointed in three places
8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)Girls are wonderful. Boys can choke.
9: Ever had a poem or song written about you? No.
10: When is the last time you played the air guitar? No idea.
11: Do you have any strange phobias? I’m afraid of stairs
12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? When I was like 5. It was a bead.
13: What’s your religion? Atheist
14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Taking a walk
15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind it
16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? I like solo artists more
17: What was the last lie you told? I don’t remember
18: Do you believe in karma? Kind of? I believe that the way you treat people affects how they treat you.
19: What does your URL mean? Katherine Plumber is ace. Fite me.
20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? Perfectionism, passion
21: Who is your celebrity crush? Emma Watson? I just think she’s pretty, but I’m not sure I want to date her because I don’t even know her, and I’m not sure she would like that.
22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping? I have a hot tub, so regularly.
23: How do you vent your anger? I like to vent it through art
24: Do you have a collection of anything? I used to collect state quarters, but nothing current
25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Phone
26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become? Sometimes yes, sometimes no
27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? I hate windshield wipers, I love cats meowing
28: What’s your biggest “what if”? Everything is a what if for me
29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Yes to both
30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. My earbuds, one of my cats
31: Smell the air. What do you smell? I have a stuffed nose today, so nothing
32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to? Probably my old private school
33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast? East
34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? No.
35: To you, what is the meaning of life? Finding and pursuing your own happiness
36: Define Art. Anything that makes you think (except Modern Art, because that is fucking elitist and pretentious and terrible)
37: Do you believe in luck? I believe in making your own through hard work, but sometimes shitty things just happen.
38: What’s the weather like right now? Cloudy, slightly rainy
39: What time is it? 10:07 am
40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? Yes, and unfortunately yes.
41: What was the last book you read? The Count of Monte Cristo
42: Do you like the smell of gasoline? I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it
43: Do you have any nicknames? Yes, but it’s personal
44: What was the last film you saw? The Princess Bride
45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? I’ve had a lot of bad sprains. Also a concussion.
46: Have you ever caught a butterfly? Yes
47: Do you have any obsessions right now? Bubble tea. Don’t judge me
48: What’s your sexual orientation? Asexual
49: Ever had a rumour spread about you? I used to be bullied really badly, so yes
50: Do you believe in magic? Yes
51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Yes.
52: What is your astrological sign? Leo/Virgo
53: Do you save money or spend it? I try to save it
54: What’s the last thing you purchased? A stuffed cat
55: Love or lust? Love
56: In a relationship? Yes
57: How many relationships have you had? Technically 5, but only 2 of them have been really serious
58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?No
59: Where were you yesterday? At home for most of the day
60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? My cat’s nose
61: Are you wearing socks right now? No
62: What’s your favourite animal? Cat
63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? Honesty and passion
64: Where is your best friend? At her school. She has a summer class. The other one is at work.
65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr. @hoogwoorts @schmackarys, @keepers-quaffles-and-old-clocks, @berrykikwi, and @purplerainbowsrachel
66: What is your heritage? German, English, Irish. Very white.
67: What were you doing last night at 12AM? Browsing the Internet.
68: What do you think is Satan’s last . It’name? I don’t give out the last names of real people.
69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? Yes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and is actually really healthy. It’s good for anxiety.
70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? I hope so.
71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? I call someone else over and head on my way.
72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? I would probably wait until my last two weeks to tell people. I would travel. Yes, I would be afraid.
73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love. I don’t trust people anyway, so love
74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Love Song by Sara Bareilles
75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? Not giving that out.
76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Honesty, kindness, and common interests.
77: How can I win your heart?You can’t! You can have eggs and you can have bacon, but you can’t have Elphie because they are taken!
78: Can insanity bring on more creativity? Yes, but it should still be medicated
79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? Going to London.
80: What size shoes do you wear? 7.5-8
81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone? I don’t know, but I think it should be in French.
82: What is your favourite word? At the moment? Princesa.
83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. The color blue.
84: What is a saying you say a lot? It’s amazing what you find when you clean up.
85: What’s the last song you listened to? Delicate
86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours? Aqua
87: What is your current desktop picture? Liberty Leading the People
88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? Mike Pence. I hate Trump, but Pence is scary and would be harder to impeach.
89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on? Everything that is wrong with my brain.
90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do? Run and lock the door.
91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? Invisibility
92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? Probably the latter half of the first act of Les Mis in London.
93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? The thing that caused my PTSD.
94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? I don’t really want to do that. I don’t know of trust them.
95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? Berlin.
96: Do you have any relatives in jail? No
97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?Yes
98: Ever been on a plane? Yes
99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? Something about education rights for all.
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Butterfly Soup Asks #17
The squad playing Overwatch, yaoi hands, and more! man I still have a lot left in my inbox after this...
I’ve spent an obscene amount of time playing Overwatch so I have many thoughts on this
Neither Diya nor Noelle have ever played a first person shooter before, but Noelle studies many strategy guides and videos to prepare beforehand.
Following her research, Noelle chooses Symmetra after memorizing the optimal turret and teleporter/shield matrix placements for each map. Symmetra is a good hero for inexperienced players because she doesn’t require aiming skills, but secretly, Noelle likes her because she is focused and serious. She’s scandalized by her default outfit, but can’t afford to get the Vishkar/Architect skins
Diya sees the dog helmet on Pharah’s Anubis skin and instantly unlocks it, automatically setting her as a Pharah main. Diya is the type to happily choose Pokemon based on cuteness instead of practicality, so this is typical Diya
Min ONLY plays these 4 attack heroes, in this order of preference:
Reaper (cool and edgy)
Genji (sword is a long knife. only chosen if the above is taken)
McCree (cool. only chosen if the above is taken)
Soldier 76 (a soldier, cool. only chosen if the above is taken)
She’s mechanically very skilled, but in her 100+ hours in game she’s never even ONCE selected a tank, defense, or support hero, not even in skirmish or training, not even when she’s the last one to choose and there’s no healer. Literally 0 minutes on her career stats.
Akarsha is an ironic Torb main and also a useless Sombra. During their first game together:
Akarsha, selecting Sombra: (affectionately) it's me
Noelle: How is that one you?
In spawn, Noelle can see Akarsha as Sombra with the Battletag “RedFart”
Sombra: (smugly) Hack the PLANET.
Sombra: (annoyingly) Miss me?
Noelle: .......... (the game hasn’t even begun yet and she’s already seething)
Diya manages to get a triple kill with concussion blast through sheer luck before accidentally killing herself with her own rocket. Min constantly spams “I need healing!” in impossible to heal locations, or when she's already being healed but doesn't notice. Whenever she dies she goes “res me”. Akarsha is nowhere to be found. In the kill feed, Diya has managed to accidentally kill herself again with Rocket Barrage. Noelle switches to Mercy and Min blames her for “not healing fast enough”. Eventually, infuriated, Noelle just screams into the voice chat “FINE! DIE ALONE, YOU FOOLS!!!!” and lets her teammates at critical health perish at her feet
the match ends in defeat but Diya got POTG for her triple kill
Noelle: Akarsha, what were you doing this last match?
Akarsha: Turned invisible
Noelle: YOU'RE NOT ACCOMPLISHING ANYTHING WHILE INVISIBLE
Akarsha: There should be a card for “time spent invisible”
Only Min and Akarsha consider themselves gamers. Diya and Noelle will play Mario Kart at other people’s houses but don’t regularly play games
Akarsha: besides DS games like Ace Attorney, she’s particularly addicted to MapleStory
Min: plays more console+pc games, likes CoD and Team Fortress 2
Sakura, Yuki, and Akarsha have all watched magical girl shows at some point. Akarsha’s favorite one is Madoka Magica.
Akarsha likes a lot of Ace Attorney characters and her favorite is Phoenix, she finds him relatable. However, if you ask her, she will answer “Spark Bruschel” (below)
She dreads it starting from the night before the presentation and have trouble falling asleep from anxiety. As the time to present approaches she’ll get more and more nervous and sweaty to the point that she won't have an appetite and her stomach hurts
As she's presenting, if she has note cards or a powerpoint to read off of, she stares at that the whole time and reads at lightning speed. Diya has to write down what she's going to say word for word, she can't just put chunks and phrases on note cards because she wont be able to construct a coherent sentence. her life flashes before her eyes whenever she stutters or messes up a sentence
If she doesn't have anything to read off of, she stares at inanimate objects instead of the audience, completely blanks out, and sometimes when she can't recover from that she panics and tries to end the presentation prematurely by suddenly going back to her desk. just bad all around
Noelle has good posture, the others are all pretty eh and slouch sometimes. In particular, Diya slouches a lot when she’s with Noelle because Noelle was taller than her in elementary school and Diya still isn’t used to the fact that she outgrew her.
It’s similar to how Min’s brain actually can’t fully process that she’s way shorter than Diya. When confronted directly with the fact Min will acknowledge it, but it hasn’t really sunk in, at all. Diya was only a little bit taller when they were kids, so in her gut that’s how it’ll always be.
I experience this with my childhood friends too LOL I still instinctively feel like I’m taller than my friend who’s now like 5′8″ (I’m 5′2″)
THIS IS INCREDIBLY SPECIFIC ASJKDHFA
I feel like Diya and Hayden have long-ish hands because they’re big, but not yaoi hands level i dont know what to say
--Tumblr wouldn’t save my post after this, so I copied it into Word and pasted them back in. It worked, but now some of the asks ARE THE WRONG SHADE OF BLUE.....
(For those who don’t know, the song lyrics say “Her name is Noelle”)
Yes, and this also reminded me that whenever Christmas songs say “Noel”, Akarsha annoyingly points it out like “it’s you Noelle”
It came from leftover dinner from the night before, which Noelle’s mom cooked
I have, I also love seeing all the different ways everyone writes the characters! Thank you fanfic writers!! ;u;
Hayden: 5′11″
Jun: 5′8″
adding this to the FAQ, thanks!
It’s not mentioned why she has a bandaid as a teenager. I have something specific in mind but it may come up in the sequel so I won’t say anything else about it
Here’s their birthdays from oldest to youngest:
Noelle: January 18
Akarsha: April 20
Min: July 4
Diya: November 26
I haven’t come up with the birthdays of other characters yet (except Jun, whose birthday is the same as Min’s haha)
Yes, stay tuned :>
Yup, that pose was reffed off of Trucy’s surprised sprite! I love how over-the-top it looks
OMG...I hate miscommunication as a cause of conflict in stories so don’t worry, there’ll never be a choice with disastrous consequences like that in any of my games!
I’m really glad to hear this, I sometimes wonder “should I have made them older?” but this is ultimately why I made them the age they are! I think a lot of people in their 20s instinctively feel 14 is too young because they’ve forgotten what they themselves were like at 14. I kept journals so I have evidence haha
You’re welcome, I’m really glad she was relatable!! Noelle has a Chinese name and goes to Saturday Chinese school, but I haven’t decided on what it is :( Maybe someday...
I REALLY want to sell Butterfly Soup merch like charms/prints/diya’s hoodie but bc I’m busy I haven’t had a chance to set it up yet >_> It’s my goal to accomplish this by the end of the year
It’s currently only available for the computer, sorry! There’s nothing questionable in this for 14 year olds -- there’s profanity, but there isn’t any explicit sexual content or nudity in it!
I’m glad that detail resonated with you!! I’m also self conscious of my hair (opposite problem, it’s EXTREMELY coarse) so I added it ^^;
A few were drawn from scratch, but most of them are at least partially drawn over photos I took
You can download it here, it’s a creative commons free song!
Yep this was fixed! I was so appalled this wasn’t caught before the game was released haha
Aw thank you!!
You’re welcome!!! The game hasn’t even been out for 2 months yet, I can’t believe people love it enough to replay it already ;u;
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try to wrap your head around this
All About Your Head!
1. How often do you get headaches? Have you ever experienced migraines? Do you take anything in order to get rid of your headaches? Are there any natural remedies that you have tried and recommend?
I get a few a month. Back in high school I used to get tension headaches quite often, which was awful. No, I’ve never experienced migraines. Unfortunately, I can’t take anything for my headaches because 1. I can’t take aspirin. 2. Stuff like Ibuprofen or Aleve don’t do shit for my headaches. 3. Tylenol doesn’t either and I can’t take it anyway because it has acetaminophen, which the pain medication I take regularly also has and too much of that can be damaging for your liver. So, all I can really do is ride them out but a cold washcloth over my eyes does help. And sleep. Peppermint or chamomile tea can help a little sometimes a well.
2. Do you feel as though you have a good head on your shoulders?
Not the past few years. I’ve been a complete mess. I don’t know where my head has been.
3. Are you the type of person who overthinks and overanalyzes?
Ohhhh yes.
4. Are you a daydreamer? Do you often get lost in your own thoughts and zone out a lot?
Yeah. Especially at night.
5. Do you feel as though you have a good memory, or are you forgetful at times? Do you feel that your short-term memory or long-term memory is better?
I think my memory is pretty good. I would probably say my long-term is better. I sometimes forget what I wore or watched on TV recently, but I dwell on shit from several years ago.
6. Have you ever had a concussion or some other sort of brain injury before? Did you need to have surgery for it?
No.
7. Would you say that you are more book-smart or more street-smart? Do you have a lot of common sense?
Book smart, I guess.
8. Do you have any sort of mental illnesses or disorders? What do they involve?
I have major depression and anxiety that I know of for sure and have been diagnosed with.
9. What color is your hair, naturally? Have you ever dyed it before?
My hair is naturally dark brown, but I dye it red.
10. What’s the longest that your hair has ever been? How about the shortest? When is the last time that you got it cut?
It’s currently the longest, it goes down past my butt. The shortest was when I had a “bob” cut. I got a trim last February.
11. Have you ever tried to count all of the hairs on your head before?
Uh, no.
12. At what age did you start getting gray hairs, if you happen to have any?
I swear it was the exact moment I turned 30.
13. Would you ever shave your head for any specific reason?
Only if I had to for medical reasons.
14. What are some ways that you style your hair? Do you use any sorts of products in it?
All I do is throw it up in a messy bun. I have all this hair and do absolutely nothing with it because I don’t have the motivation or energy to. It would be a lot easier to manage if I just cut it short again, but it took so long to get it this length and part of me still can’t help but think maybe one day I’ll get my shit together and I’ll want to have my long hair if it happens. Sigh.
15. What other words do you typically use in order to describe your head? (ie: brain, skull, noggin, noodle, think-boxer, etc)
I usually just say “head”, but I’ve also said each of those except for “think-boxer.”
16. Do you ever experience brain freeze? If so, how long does it typically last for?
I haven’t in quite a long time because I don’t drink cold drinks anymore. Whenever it has happened, though, I don’t recall it lasting very long.
17. When is the last time that you felt light-headed? Have you ever passed out before?
I’ve felt that way recently. I think I may have vertigo. :/ No, I’ve never passed out before.
18. Do you feel that you are more of a right-brained person or a left-brained person?
I guess left-brained. Not good with numbers, though.
19. Do you feel that you are smart? In what ways? In what ways do you feel dumb, if at all?
I feel I’m just very average.
20. Are you capable of doing a headstand? For How long?
Nope.
21. When’s the last time you felt like banging your head against a wall? Why?
I get in irritable, frustrated moods quite often.
22. Have you ever bit someone’s head off before? When was the last time?
Haha my dumbass took this literally and I was like wtf kind of question is this??? As though it’s normal to go around biting people’s head off or something lmao. I get the expression now. Anyway, I don’t lash out or yell at people. I can get short and snippy, but I don’t yell.
23. When was the last time you buried your head in the sand?
The past few years, really.
24. When a coin is being flipped, do you usually pick “heads” or “tails”?
Heads.
25. Have you ever fallen head over heels in love?
I sure felt that way.
26. When was the last time you couldn’t make heads or tails of something?
I can’t make sense of myself or some of the things I’ve been dealing with.
27. Have you ever had to drum something into someone’s head?
Yeah.
28. Have you ever dressed from head to toe in only one color?
Yeah.
29. Are you the type of person who likes to get a head start on things?
I’m a major procrastinator, unfortunately.
30. Are you good at solving puzzles and riddles?
Ehh, depends.
31. Are you capable of keeping your head above water?
I’ve been drowning.
32. Have you ever given someone a head start in a race before? Has anyone ever give you a head start?
Yes and yes.
33. Who was the last person that you weren’t able to get out of your head?
It’s been awhile since I’ve experienced that.
34. When was the last time that someone went over your head?
There’s stuff that goes over my head sometimes, at least initially and then I’m like, “Ohhh I got it.”
35. When was the last time you headed someone off?
I don’t recall.
36. Have you ever given head before? How about received?
No and no.
37. Has anyone ever told you that you “hit the nail right on the head”?
Yes.
38. When was the last time that you felt like you were in over your head?
I’ve felt that way for a long time.
39. Do you feel like your life is headed in the right direction? If not, what can you do to change all of that?
No. I’ve felt really lost and unsure these past few years.
40. What was the last thing that you lost your head about?
Upset and frustrated about stuff I was dealing with.
41. Do you wear any headbands or bandanas on your head?
No.
42. What are your favorite types of hats to wear, if any?
Beanies or baseball style caps.
43. Has anyone ever accused you of having a big head before?
No. I’m not arrogant or cocky or anything of that sort. I’m certainly not full of myself.
44. Have you ever had to take a head count of people before? For what reason?
Yeah, different reasons.
45. Have you ever been headbutted before?
I’ve bumped heads (literally) and yeah it’s not fun. Ow.
46. Have you ever had head lice before?
When I was a kid.
47. Do you think that it would be interesting be able to read the thoughts of others?
Yeah, sometimes. I’d want the ability to be able to turn it on and off, though.
48. Do you ever act on impulse, without thinking? How often?
I’m more hesitant and think about stuff first.
49. When was the last time that you experienced a head cold?
It’s been a long time.
50. Who is the head of your household?
My parents?
51. Have you ever gone down a slide or a flight of stairs head first before?
No.
52. Can you be pig-headed or bull-headed at times?
I am very stubborn.
53. Do you have an attached or flexible showerhead?
I do.
54. Do you often wake up with a bad case of bed head?
It’s not too bad.
55. Are you capable of giving answers off the top of your head?
I’m the worst. I know I’d absolutely freeze up if I were ever on a game show. I’d suddenly forget everything I ever knew. I’m not good with being put on the spot.
56. When was the last time you experienced a head rush of some sort?
I’m not sure.
57. Do you own any bobbleheads? Of who?
Yeah, a Chewbacca one.
58. Are you the type of person who plays head games?
No. Ugh, I can’t stand that. I’ve known people who do that.
59. Are you an emotional headcase?
Yes.
60. When was the last time you laughed your head off?
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good laugh like that.
61. What was the last thing you had to try to wrap your head around?
2020 was pretty difficult.
62. Do you believe the saying that “two heads are better than one”?
Yeah. It can certainly be helpful to have two people thinking and working together to come up with ideas and whatnot.
63. When was the last time you tried to keep your head down?
Whenever I go out, I guess. I’m just like ew don’t look at me.
64. What was the last thing that you gave someone a heads up about?
I don’t remember.
65. When was the last time you believed something but in reality, it was all just in your head?
Hmm.
66. Who is the last person you butted heads with, and why?
My dad. We’re a lot alike and we sometimes end up butting heads.
67. Have you ever been called a bonehead before? By who?
I don’t think so.
68. Do you have a few screws loose up there in your head? Is there a light in the window but nobody’s home?
It sure feels that way.
69. Do you make decisions more with your head or your heart?
It depends, but my emotions definitely get the best of me a lot of the time.
70. What are some techniques that you use in order to clear your head?
I’m definitely not the one to ask about that. I could use some tips.
71. Do you know anyone who’s a real hot head? Who?
Yes.
72. Have you ever had a gun held t your head before, or felt that way?
I’ve felt that way, but no I’ve never actually been held at gunpoint.
73. Have you ever had your head examined/scanned by a medical professional before? If so, what sorts of tests were done?
No.
74. How often do you walk around with your head in the clouds?
My mind does drift and wander a lot.
75. Is your head just filled with all sorts of useless knowledge?
My mind is a jumbled mess.
76. Do you worry a lot or have anxiety at all?
Yeppp.
77. Have you ever had suicidal thoughts before? Have you ever acted on them before?
Yes, but no I’ve never acted on them.
78. Have you eyes ever felt like they were going to pop out of your head?
I don’t think so.
79. Who’s head would you like to see on a platter?
Uhh, I’m good.
80. When was the last time a lightbulb went off in your head? What was the realization about?
Hmm.
81. Is there anything you feel like you could do, standing on your head?
No.
82. When’s the last time you put your head in the lion’s mouth?
I don’t tend to deliberately place myself in dangerous situations.
83. Where are you headed off to now?
I should probably finally drag myself outta bed now... it’s almost 5PM.
[ohsh1t2wksl8]
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The Short and Miserable Romance of Victor Criss
Pairings: Henry x Victor, with some side Butch x Mrs Criss
Rating: M
Warnings for this chapter: Violence against children, implied/referenced domestic abuse, period-typical ableism and attitudes
Warnings for later chapters: Violence, homophobia, racism, and sexism that are all period-typical; canon-standard content; underage sex, smoking, and drinking; noncon elements (but no actual noncon); canonical character death; major character death; strong language
Chapters: 1, [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7]
Ao3: [x]
Summary:
Told from Victor's perspective, each chapter details either a first or last moment of Vic's growing relationship with Henry Bowers as they navigate homophobia, mental issues, and the growing influence of It. The first two chapters are pre-1988, the middle two will be where the sex is, and the final two are where the romance goes south
Chapter 7 could act as a stand-alone told from Henry’s perspective
Story prompt: The first and last Meeting/Kiss/Time of your OTP
A/N: This is their first meeting. According to the book, they met in first grade, but I’ve got them around the age of 5 here:
July 1978
“Victor Andrew Criss, you get back here this instant!”
The tiny blonde was flying down the street. His little Harley Davidson boots never touched the ground. The woman chasing him – her husband’s leather belt tight in hand – hadn’t run since high school. That had been two and half Vic’s ago. Red-faced and panting, she was determined not to lose sight of him.
“Your daddy’s gonna whoop your ass red, boy!”
He ran straight down Jackson Street and hooked a left at Witcham. His boots slipped against the smooth cement, but he managed to stay upright. He kept track of his directions in his mind, knowing he’d have to go home some day. Maybe after a week, or a month, or even a few months. However long it took for his parents to realize that coming here was the worst decision they could have made .
Maybe he’d go back to Portland himself. Someone here must know how to get there and would be willing to give him a ride. He had two dollars in his pocket to pay for it.
But Papaw Criss had died, and now Vic’s dad decided they were going to be farmers. He didn’t care that Mama Criss had to leave her good job working in that office with the asshole boss (her words). He didn't care that they could no longer afford McDonald’s on the weekends. Papa didn’t care that their house was smaller, and smellier, or that there were rats in the basement. Papa didn’t care that it would take the entire family to work the land, and, frankly speaking, Vic didn’t want to. Papa Criss didn’t care about anyone but himself, and his sudden desire to recapture his youth.
Or at least that’s what his Mama told Angela Bartlett on the phone the night before the moving van arrived. Though Vic didn’t know what it meant, he agreed with it all the same. Because the way she said it, he knew it was something only an asshole would do.
“VICTOR ANDREW! STOP!” His mother’s voice sounded far away. He could hear the raw force in it, though. She was steamin’ mad, but he didn’t dare look back. He didn’t dare stop. As soon as he stopped, she’d be lifting him by one arm and whipping him with the other. So he lowered his head to fight the wind, and ran even faster.
Vic didn’t see the man until they were colliding. The child’s entire weight slammed into the back of the man’s knee, forcing it to buckle; but the man’s reflexes were fast. He caught himself on one knee. His hand swung out with deliberate force, curling into a fist only moments before it caught Vic above his right eye . Fire exploded across Vic’s face. The force of the punch knocked him off his feet. As the back of his head bounced off the sidewalk, the world went bright white for a few seconds, and then black.
Vic woke for a brief moment. Someone was carrying him, cradling him like he was a baby. It wasn’t his Mama, but someone with big, round arms, who smelled like cigarettes and barbeque. Vic tried to protest being carried , but his words came out slurred and messy. His Mama’s hand popped up from nowhere, petting his hair. She shushed him.
"Go back to sleep, baby. You’re alright.”
He might have tried to fight it, but his eyes were so heavy, and the world had gone fuzzy. He rested his face against the man’s chest, and drifted away again.
When consciousness returned in full, Vic was in bed, staring at the walls he'd wake up to every day for the rest of his life. Someone had removed his shoes, bandaged up his head, and tucked him in. He moved to undo all, but sitting up made the dull ache in his brain into a regular ache, and then it became a throbbing ache. His brain was thumping so loud against his skull, he almost didn’t hear the small voice asking him if it was alright.
“Huh?” Vic asked, turning so he could see who spoke.
Looking the same age as Vic, there was a boy sitting on a fold out chair beside the bed. He was taller than Victor by an inch, and had the sort of thin, hay-colored hair baby dolls had. He also had the face of a baby doll, with big blue eyes, and a small mouth. Boys weren’t supposed to be pretty, but Vic couldn’t think of another way to say it. The boy was pretty, and Vic couldn’t stop smiling when the boy looked at him. He liked it when the boy looked at him, but couldn't say why.
He was reading Vic’s comics and sipping from a Pepsi bottle with a straw in it. As he noticed Vic staring, he began to hold the Pepsi closer to his chest. Vic could see some second thoughts cross his mind. He held it out to Vic instead, turning the straw so it was easier for him to take a sip. It was the best tasting soda Vic had ever had.
“Butch got you good,” the boy said. His voice was lower than Vic’s, and already had a quality Vic would come to associate with drinking. “He said you might have a concussion.”
“Who’s Butch?” Vic asked, wincing as he remembered his headache. It seemed to make it stronger.
“My dad,” the boy answered, as if it wasn’t strange to call his dad anything other than some variation of father.
“Oh,” Vic said. The boy was straight forward and plain. It got Vic thinking that maybe he was wrong and that maybe in places other than Portland that was a normal thing. “What’s a concussion?”
“I don’t know but you’re probably going to the hospital,” the boy said. He seemed worried. He set the Pepsi down on the floor, and then held up some fingers, remembering something he saw on TV. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Vic counted them slowly, trying to not to aggravate the pain. “Three.”
“Okay, you’re good then. Just get some iced peas and a glass of wine. That’s what my mom does when Butch gets her good.”
Vic nodded. What the boy was saying didn’t make sense. How were peas supposed to help a headache? But he said it with such confidence that Vic couldn’t help but think he knew what he was talking about.
They sat in silence for only a few seconds, and then the boy’s mouth was running miles a minute. He showed Vic the comics he’d picked out to read. Even though they were Vic’s, he started talking to him about them like Vic wouldn't know anything. Vic hardly got a word in edgewise, and it was usually, “Oh yeah!” or “Cool.” But the boy had come alive, and his eyes sparkled as he pointed out some detail in the background of the page. Vic’d never seen anyone so passionate about something before. It had him charmed and mesmerized.
The boy was soon sitting on the bed beside him. The Pepsi shared between them, the boy went on about his comic book theories.
“He has to be in Batman’s brain because he always knows what Batman’s doing. Plus my dad has the same thing. He fought against the Vietcong and sometimes he thinks people are there when they aren’t.”
Vic didn’t know what a Vietcong was, but he’d heard Papa say that sometimes, so it was a thing that existed. It drew up some image of a giant monkey, though, so that's what he saw. He giggled at the thought of seeing one that didn’t really exist walking about. It made him remember the game he used to play. That was before Papa had backhanded him across the mouth and told him to grow up, of course.
"That game's for little babies and psychos," he'd said. Vic had started crying, even as he insisted he wasn't either one.
“Yeah, but you don’t see them because they’re ‘maginary,” Vic said. “Robin sees the Joker, too. So he’s real.”
“This is comic books,” the boy said, making a face like that answered everything. In a way, Vic supposed it did. They both started laughing at that.
“I’m Victor, by the way. Victor Criss.”
“Henry. Bowers,” the boy said, holding out his hand. Vic shook it, and when their skin touched, he felt something pass between them.
When Vic looked into Henry's eyes, he saw loneliness. He was like Vic: filled with passions and aspirations, looking for someone to share them with. But unlike Vic, he'd lost his boyhood innocence already. His arms were already sporting purple and blue marks from the lessons he'd learned so far. When Henry looked into him, he must’ve seen something too, because they both kept holding on.
Vic wondered if this is what it felt like to have a brother.
Lacing their fingers together in that way Vic sometimes saw in magazines, the two glanced at the door. They didn’t think they were doing anything wrong, but they’d also learned a long time ago their parents often thought different .
Henry’s voice dropped into a conspirator’s whisper: “Do you like firecrackers?”
Vic nodded.
The mischievous smile that took over Henry’s face made Vic feel very happy in a way he didn’t fully understand. So they were both grinning ear to ear as he crept closer to Vic, and revealed that he had a pocket full of them.
“Can I come over when you set them off?” Vic asked, his voice also very soft and very low.
“Fuck yeah. I got a bunch of crap toys I plan on blowing up after cartoons tomorrow.”
Vic smiled at Henry using a bad word, but the smile faltered when something occurred to him. “I don’t know where you live…”
“Oh, then I’ll come over here. Butch works until later and he can pick me up. I think he'd like to talk to your mom again. They've been talking in your dad's room for a really long time."
Vic blinked. Henry shrugged.
"I have some XMen comics in that box over there..."
Butch and Henry stayed for dinner. Mama had a dreamy look in her eyes as she served them sirloin and potatoes. Papa had bought that food for their anniversary. But whatever she and Butch had talked about put her in such a good mood, she must've forgot. Her cheeks were even a nice shade of pink, making her look like a little girl. The front door opened and Papa appeared. He had worked his last day at the supermarket, and the smile on his face match the one on his wife's.
"You boys go on and watch TV," Papa ordered, clapping Butch on the back. "Let us grown ups talk."
That was code for let us get drunk. The boys shot them curious glances, and then were out in the living room. They had no way of knowing Oscar "Butch" Bowers and Andy Criss Jr were once old school mates, but the laughter coming from the kitchen was loud and hearty, and they knew they wouldn't be interrupted anytime soon. Henry's hand crept over to grab Vic's, and Vic let him take it. They sat that way until Henry passed out. Vic undid their fingers and pretended to be asleep when Butch came to collect his son. He seemed less like a psycho when he cradled his sleeping boy then when he knocked Vic out. The potential was still there, though.
Mama and Papa saw them to the door. They didn’t move Vic back to his room. They turned off the television set and went about their evening unpacking. Vic couldn't make out the hushed argument they were having, but he could hear their tones and knew they were having one . It would be the first of many that ended with one of the other of them in the kitchen, and the other in the bedroom.
Pretending to be asleep became being asleep. Although he'd be waking up in that miserable house, Vic didn't mind it, anymore. He had a whole day of playing with Henry to look forward to. He would recall, years later, that they never did take him to the hospital. In fact, he could pinpoint that memory as the exact moment in time when his parents changed. It was subtle, at first, but they did change as all parents in Derry changed. They became less of a presence in his life, less invested. Almost like they had been preparing for his death from the moment it was decided they belonged there.
That day, Vic didn't know anything about it. So he slept peacefully, and dreamed of the day ahead.
#stephen king#it#it 2017#the bowers gang#henry bowers#victor criss#fanfic#writing#romance#eventual smut#it prompts#henvic#henry x victor#victor x henry#henry/victor#victor/henry#vicry
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I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I can’t really afford help finding out without specific areas to look in and good cause. Neuroscience and Medical Tumblrs, please give me your thoughts? Lawblr people can also help, if you know anything about disability, please see the end.
So here’s this.
I’m 33.
My dad died of Agent Orange poisoning. He was exposed before I was born. He died practically on his 43 birthday.
My mom has anorexia and OCPD, and may or may not have Lupus or something similar. I’m not as privy to her medical going’s on as I once was, though I know she went through an early menopause in her early 40’s.
I have Autism with Proprioceptive Dysfunction, Tourette’s, Depression, Anxiety, Panic attacks, a past history of Bulimia, issues walking esp first getting up due to Arthritis in feet, Plantar Fasciitis, and Tendinitis in feet and calves, Ovarian Cysts, a two year time where I only had my period once while on no medications at around age 28, which I restarted through careful alternations of primarily Chaste Tree Berry (and admittedly sometimes St John’s Wort) capsules and Yarrow tincture to begin and end bleeding, up until I went back on a mini pill that I am still on, neuropathy of the left thigh, partially herniated L4, Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, borderline anemia, persistent Post Concussive Syndrome due to scar tissue between Broca’s and Werneke’s, allergies (treated currently with Flonase), and a long history of normal blood pressure spiking into high blood pressure just last year when I started holding down a regular job - for the first time in my life. Past employment never lasted longer than six months. It has always been part time, not full. I also often used to schedule classes to have two easy ones and “two I actually have to think for” back when I was in college, otherwise I tended to be unable to keep up. This wasn’t the case until, from 13-20, I was kept relatively isolated from all except immediate family members and a few others. I tended to not see other humans face to face except for maybe an hour a week at church.
Trying to think of anything else but basically all of this has come to a head. I’m feeling like I’m declining further cognitively - probably due to bad environment and recent issues getting oxygen into my blood due to what was likely bronchitis but wasn’t properly diagnosed (respiratory illness lasting 2-3 weeks.) Remaining post concussive aphasia symptoms - which tend to not affect my writing as much - have even concerned coworkers, when once (doing restaurant work) I attempted to discuss making extra “bacon for breakfast” and was asked to repeat myself, and said it again, only to be asked if I was having a stroke. Apparently I said “breakfast for bacon.” I also had the nasty surprise that I had been misreading the schedule and my concern that they were working me 5 hours longer than they’re medically supposed to was the result of me miscounting by a block of 5, seeing 23 1/2 as 28 1/2, and I could have sworn I had counted the hours individually. I think what happened breaking it down is my brain went “5x3... plus an extra hour here... plus this extra night...” but jumped from “plus one hour” to “21 hours” somehow?
This isn’t the first time I’ve had issues, but I did find these alarming, almost like the distressing time I figured out I can repeat a two digit number backwards - say, “two one” as “one two” but “three oh five” comes out as... well, “three oh... damnit!” Instead of “five oh three.” I started crying when I realized I couldn’t do it and that there was no reason I shouldn’t.
Past issues have included incidents leading others to lines like “what the fuck is a rugby puck?” (My brain searched “sports equipment” after tripping on a lacrosse stick.) Also, at a past job, there was mishearing a coworker say something about cheese as though he had said “the astral plane is made of cheese, now is this for the dead?” ... and trying to turn my admission of mishear into a joke that he secretly ran a cult that thinks the afterlife is made of cheese.
I have also forgotten today where we keep ingredients I have placed in those places myself. I have forgotten sometimes which surfaces, excepting the obvious ones, might be hot. (A metal cooking tool left in a hot place, for example, but not the stove itself.)
Moreover my recent illness had me have a day where I was vomiting up even water. I have had issues with my balance and dizziness, especially when stressed for the latter. Even before being ill I have vomited more this year than I have since being a bulimic teen. I have also mostly had constipation and diarrhea in cycles. I have sometimes found myself abusing pepto bismol during the diarrhea times to not have to poop “right then” at work.
I have been exposed to a lot of bad. For the second time in my life I am the only non smoker in a place full of tobacco smokers, for the first time in my life I live in a place with roaches and mice. Mildew is also a frequent problem, primarily due to water leaks in the roof and bad plumbing. (Attempting to locate me to get me out of here will only result in absolute street homelessness for myself and others, please do not do this. I am already trying to leave within the next few months. Ideas like sleeping in my car while keeping my stuff in the garage here and suggestions on pillows to pad the poking of seat belt holders and/or suggesting I spend more time at the local library because it’s free will be met with acceptance however.)
I’m scared. I’m tired. I don’t know if there’s something more I’m missing that would explain why symptoms are just worse or if it’s just oxygen issues because I have fluid in my lungs the last couple weeks that are finally coming up, or what. I really, really kinda wanna quit my job because I’m worried I’ll have a heart attack or stroke, and there are still days when I don’t actually WANT to die. My BP can get up to 180/110 in some of these states, and that’s probably bad. No one seems to understand why my two speeds are basically “depressed slave” and “person who works so fast she scalds and burns herself because her fight or flight is convinced she’ll be eaten by a bear if she doesn’t.” In the latter state merely looking up to see orders is enough to make me lose peripheral vision a little from dizziness.
Again, with all this, I have never worked a full time job, didn’t finish my BA until 28, and have been denied disability and am appealing but having difficulty finding a lawyer to do so.
#personal#medical stuff#norvicensiandoran#medical problems#cw eating disorders#cw depression#cw menstruation
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May 2018: A Summary
Warning: there’s a LOT of (mostly non-graphic) discussion of hospitals, injury, and death in this post because I had a SUPER fun May, so don’t click this unless you’re okay with that. I just need to vent everything that happened this month, because I’ve mostly been bottling it up in an effort to not get too upset by thinking about it. But now I really just need to get it all out, and I also want to talk about my plans for June, because I have a lot of good things coming up, and I’m hoping it will be as good as it looks, because I need it, after this month. So if you’re ready to hear me complain, you can click the read more.
(April): My grandfather is in the hospital. He has a rare and dangerous late stage skin cancer, but they haven’t even managed to attempt to treat the cancer yet because he broke his foot in the shower the day he was scheduled for a pre-chemo procedure. I had to replace a tire on my car because I blew it running up on a curb and then I got a speeding ticket a week later.
5/4: I attempt to move into my new place, only to discover it shares a wall with smokers and the place hasn’t been even REMOTELY cleaned of the cat hair despite promises
5/6: I tell the former roommate I cant stay and give back my key. She never answers my texts about getting my rent back.
5/10: My mom wakes me up at 11pm to ask me to drive her to my grandma’s house, because my grandma fell and has no memory of falling, so she’s worried about a possible concussion. She’s refusing to go to the emergency room but my mom wants her to come stay with us for the night so we can check up on her. My mom can’t drive because she’s taken a sleeping pill and put some gel drops in her eyes, so she can’t see very well or trust herself to be able to drive.
5/11: My uncle calls to say that my paternal grandmother tripped on a curb while visiting for my cousin’s college graduation and had to have several staples in her head.
5/12: We go to my grandma’s house to clean and hang up decorations that she’s had lying around for years. It’s basically a nightmare because she’s been so worn out for the last few months.
5/13 (Mother’s Day): My grandma, after staying with us all weekend, finally agrees to go to the emergency room. She has broken most of the bones in the left side of her face, has a small bleed in her brain that isn’t dangerous luckily, and has cracked her one kneecap (she only has one, because the other was removed when she had polio as a kid). They admit her to the hospital. My grandfather is two floors up, sedated while they try to treat a serious infection.
5/14: I wake up feeling like I have a fever and congested, and have to take the day off work.
5/16: My grandfather has been off the sedation for almost 48 hours and is not waking up. I leave work early to see him, and my dad tells me he might not make it through the weekend.
5/18: My grandma is moved to a rehab facility for physical therapy on her legs. It doesn’t help much over the next two weeks.
5/19: My grandfather is taken off of life support. My parents and uncle go to the hospital while my brother and I keep my grandma company and watch a re-broadcast of the royal wedding as a distraction.
(At some point in the next few days, my paternal grandmother goes into the hospital --in the town where she lives, two hours away-- for kidney problems. I don’t find out until days later, but she’s mostly okay for now)
5/22: My grandfather passes away in the morning. We call the funeral home to arrange for cremation, but he never wanted a memorial service, and with my grandma’s condition we couldn’t have one yet anyway. We discover that the funeral arrangements my grandparents made and paid for 20 years ago are all kinds of screwed up. We’ll have to re-do my grandma’s at some other time. We also find out that medicare will not pay for my grandmother to spend the full five weeks in rehab that she is supposed to have. They will only pay for 2 more.
The next week is full of pretty much nothing but stress
5/28: I spend Memorial Day at the rehab center, and decide the next day will be when I get my life back on track after this awful month, and that night I make my lunches for the whole week, pack my gym bag, and go to bed on time.
5/29: After oversleeping by two hours, getting to work an hour and a half late wearing the wrong shoes and having forgotten my lunch TWICE (I got distracted when I went back in the house for it and forgot it again), I am leaving work, making a dangerous left turn that I shouldn’t make, but that I and all of my coworkers make every day. I turn ONLY after making certain that the coast is clear, but someone coming off the interstate already speeding rams into my back door on the driver’s side. As I am getting out of my car, still in shock, it starts to rain. It takes an hour to sort out, in the pouring rain, before I can leave with my dad. My car insurance card is expired by one day (my insurance is still active, so I’m not penalized for that, but I was worried I might be). Despite having made sure the coast was clear and the fact that the lady MUST have been speeding. I get the ticket. My car is probably totaled, but as of 4 days later, I still haven’t actually gotten any word on the status from the body shop.
So, that was May. This morning I went to what will be my real new place to meet with my roommate and her mom, sign the lease, and give them my security deposit. My lease officially begins in July, but they’re going to give me a key on Friday so I can move some of the non-essential boxes and furniture that are cluttered in my parents’ house now. Tonight I’m probably going out with my gf and her brother. On Thursday I’m going to try to get my speeding ticket from April dismissed. My grandma will be discharged from rehab on Friday. Next week I am turning 26 and I’ll be spending my birthday in Nashville with my girlfriend, where I’ll get to see Harry Styles and Kacey Musgraves (who has been one of my favorite country artists for YEARS) in concert together. At the end of this month I’m going to Anime Blues Con and gf and I will be cosplaying Adrien and Marinette. After that, I get to officially move in to the new place. I’m really excited, and I hope it all works out.
Here’s to June being an improvement!
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