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#i don’t want to impact my friends ever but god sometimes it makes me want to cry
honeycollectswhump · 2 months
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Whump Prompt
Caretaker is obsessive about a recovering Whumpee, to the point that it makes them physically uncomfortable and seize up whenever Whumpee gets close with other people. But Caretaker really cares about Whumpee so they try their hardest to not let this actually influence Whumpee’s recovery and connections.
Do they succeed? Does Whumpee ever notice Caretaker’s inner struggle? Does it create a rift in their friendship, making Caretaker distance themselves from the unknowing Whumpee, before they hurt them?
Does Caretaker snap and become a restricting Whumper to their friend?
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ateezmakemeweep · 2 years
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love is gone (part 1)
word count: 8k
angst (tw: implications of car accidents, death, panic attacks)
(series masterlist)
“-overbearing! you’re so overbearing and i don’t know how you don’t see it. literally non stop since junior year started, why do you think i’m so fucking over-”
you can still hear your own piercing voice through the squeak of the windshield wipers, rain pounding down with thunderous booms and strikes of lightning.
it’s on the windows and the slippery road, in between the tires of the dozens of cars on the parkway that day.
the people in them were going about their own day, their own life, just like you.
you pass by strangers everyday and while some of them affect you in small ways, like someone complimenting your hair or telling you there’s toilet paper on your shoe, there’s usually no giant impact. 
nothing potentially scarring. or traumatizing. nothing potentially life-altering, that leaves you a completely different person than the one you used to be. 
“enough, y/n!” 
her voice boomed like the storm raging outside, a tone you completely deserved in that moment. 
she was your best friend. 
someone you loved dearly and the only person who could make you feel better after a bad day; she was kind and thoughtful to a fault, even to people who didn’t deserve it. 
you would’ve never said the things you did to her that day if you knew it’d be the-
“no! i didn’t ask you to speak to my counselor! or help me with the college process or tell me to look into engineering when i’m not even interested in that!” 
you just kept going because you were mad and annoyed at the world. didn’t feel ready for things that were being thrown your way and just, for a second, wanted everything to stop.
all the testing and research and questions about college, college, college, it felt like your head was gonna explode. 
“i know you’re stressed and upset so i’m sorry.”
ever so empathetic and understanding she was. you appreciated it, you really did - you were just so consumed by all your own shit, you took it for granted.
“but do not curse at me, y/n. i’m only trying to help and understand you. i only ever want you to be happy and-”
“if you want me to be happy, then just stop!” you wail, your voice screeching through the car as the rain continues to pound down; you can barely see through the windshield, wipers going their fastest but no match for the torrential rain.
“just fucking stop! please, for the love of god, just fucking-”
your eyes snap open, some sort of higher being seemingly taking pity on you today as you’re spared from the worst. your heart pounds so wildly, you can feel it in your ears. 
it’s what you felt then and it’s what you’re still feeling now, two years later, ripped awake from the memories that have haunted you every night since that horrible rainy day. 
sometimes your dreams do that you, spare you like today, but often times, they don’t. 
often times, you have to relive your worst memory, your worst day, what will probably be the worst moment of your whole entire life, in moments where your mind is supposed to be shut off. 
where you don’t have to gasp and try to suck in all the air that you can at the first sign of consciousness; it’s supposed to be the only time you can escape the guilt, the anger, the sadness, but even then, you can’t. 
not when the feelings are still so strong and all-consuming.
you just have to breathe in and out, in and out, as best as you can with the way your chest heaves and you’re almost sent into a full blown panic attack.  
“y/n,” you finally hear, your dad’s familiar voice deep and throaty from two years of non-stop nicotine. he hadn’t smoked for twenty five years before the accident.
“y/n. it’s okay. you’re okay.”
he always manages to be so calm, cool, and collected - you don’t know how he does it.
you think every person has to have a breaking point and it shocks you that his has yet to come while yours hasn’t seemed to stop. 
you take in your surroundings with a familiar type of hesitance to see you’re in the car, curled up in the passenger seat you swore you’d never reside in again. 
it’s sunny and bright outside today, not a cloud or rain droplet in sight. the air conditioner blowing on you is a sobering contrast to the mugginess seeping through your dad’s open window.
he can’t go 30 minutes without cracking it down to smoke, let alone the two hour drive from your house to new college campus.
“i- i can’t breathe,” you mumble, the passenger side window promptly rolling down; your dad may be a man of few words but he always gets you what you need. 
always just has some sort of parental inkling.
you take a long, deep breath as the moist air invades your senses. 
eyes closed, head against the seat, and a crippling feeling of dread building in your stomach at the fact that you have to be in this car right now. 
you can count on one hand how many times you’ve been able to stomach sitting here again, opting to walk to school, the store, doctors, anywhere you can go, really, within a 10 mile radius. 
but, unfortunately for you, walking over 100 miles with your luggage is not something you wanted to do for move-in day (although you mildly considered it).
if someone had asked you two years ago if this was in the cards for you, making the trip to college and the overwhelming need to succeed in it, you would’ve shrugged and said you weren’t sure.
but things change. people change. 
trauma can eventually change you for the better, get you on the right track in terms of schools or goals or healthier habits, but it also ruins a part of you.
keeps you up at night with nightmares, never ending guilt and “what ifs” with such painful alternate endings, it feels like you’ll never be able to get past it. 
you’ve worked hard though, tirelessly, almost to the point where burnout should’ve happened but it didn’t, to get to the top. 
you got the best grades, the best sat score you could, got into your first choice college where you won’t stray from your academics - that’s why you’re here.
to focus on your degree, get a’s again, and make something of yourself. 
you weren’t there for boys or friends or to have some amazing college experience, you just wanted to make people proud - even if they were proud from a place you couldn’t see. 
“we’ll be there in about 25 minutes,” your dad says from beside you, the journey probably twice as long since you took backstreets; highways were another no-no. 
a non-negotiable no-no that you just haven’t been able to face yet. 
“do you wanna stop for a little? maybe get something to eat?”
you appreciate the sentiment, his quiet way of sparing you the way your dreams also did today, but you’ve learned that escape plan isn’t much of an escape. 
it only puts off the inevitable torture and anxiety.
you shake your head and you don’t have to look over to know he nods back in understanding, the two of you driving the rest of the way in silence. 
you can’t help but prefer it that way now. 
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the campus was everything you’d thought it be and more. 
bustling students, cars of weeping parents lining the street, even the school mascot out and about greeting everyone either a welcome back or welcome aboard. 
you and your dad were overwhelmed to say the least, finally able to stretch your legs as you stand and take in the sights.
you assume the group just mere feet ahead of you is the local frat house eager to scope out new pledges; they’re without shirts, impeccably hairless, and holding up a sign with greek letters inconceivable to you. 
“well,” your father says, his tone dry as he looks around the campus. “this is... nice.”
your lips threaten to pull into a smile as you side-eye him, a soft, amused, almost subtle look between you two. 
it pains you to think about him going back all alone to your empty house tonight, no one there to silently eat dinner with him or fall asleep wordlessly to a movie. 
he’d made it obvious he’d be fine time and time again.
encouraging you to apply here in the first place, buying things he thought you’d like and leaving it in your room, getting you your favorite desserts when you got in, committed, and graduated high school within the past few months. 
you both knew you had to do this: succeed in school. get your degree. study, study, study because that’s all that really matters. 
that’s all she wanted for you. 
“i think my dorm building is over that way,” you say, gesturing to the farther side of campus. 
you didn’t know if it’d be more sad for him to walk you up or say goodbyes here, a lump in your throat you can’t bear to acknowledge dissipating when he makes the choice for you. 
he takes the two heaviest boxes, your trunk of clothes and room decorations, before nodding to your bedding and other belongings. 
“think you got those?” 
a soft smile covers your face as you nod, taking the bags and your weak arms aching in protest. your gaze shifts to the herd of fraternity students when you hear a loud commotion their way.
girls you could only guess as one of the sororities come clobbering down the concrete path with water balloons in hand, girlish screams and neon bikini tops as everyone enjoys the last few days of summer.
with the joyous laughter and deep booms of feigned protests, you can, for a moment, see the appeal of this kind of party life - enjoying your youth while you still can, really, just beginning it, as you make some of the best (and worst) memories of your life. 
but it’s memories that wrack you with guilt everywhere that leave you completely incapable of relishing in that type of behavior.
not even close. 
because not for a second do you think you deserve the right to have fun like that, fuck around and do things people your age are supposed to do.
“if you want me to be happy, then just stop! just fucking stop! please, for the love of god, just fucking-”
you shake your own voice out of your head to see your dad watching you thoughtfully, a small, fake smile making its way across your face. 
“sorry,” you mumble, the older man shaking his head as you take the lead. “let’s go.”
you get a little lost on the way but you two eventually find the grand brick building, nine stories up with even more students lining the pavement.
it’s quite obvious the majority of you are freshmen, that nervous excitement buzzing in the air and parents just as frantic as they are resilient for holding back tears. 
“maybe you should’ve taken that gap year after all...”
“are you sure there’s an elevator? what if your asthma acts up?”
“how’s the security? is there security? the other dorms we looked up had security personally meet us...”
you’re grateful in that moment for your dad’s quiet strength and concern, holding the boxes you know are heavy as shit without an ounce of struggle or fatigue. 
“do you know what floor you’re on?”
you peer down at your phone and swipe to your screen shotted information; your roommate’s name is yunjin but that’s all you know. 
“6. room 606.” 
much to the pleasure of the asthmatic kid’s mother, a modern, sleek elevator greets you past the front desk of security. you and your dad pile in with a few other students and their parents who chatter about the campus and roommate situations.
you hadn’t made any specific requirements when it came to who you lived with and you’re thinking now that that was a huge mistake, hearing the stranger’s concern of being too messy or too loud or too... inconsiderate when bringing people over. 
but you’re just hoping yunjin is nice enough; you don’t even need to be best friends with her, you’re not here for friends after all, but you’re hoping you two can at least... tolerate each other. 
that your life in this small 12x19 room won’t be a tizzy of passive aggressive notes, inconsiderate behavior and a tense environment that will leave you with no choice but to spend your nights slumbering in the library. 
“alright floor six!” the girl beside you shouts, parents craning their heads as everyone turns their attention to her. 
the bag hanging from her shoulder clatters with what can only be glass bottles of something, the knowing smirk on her face as they clank together confirming your suspicions.
“my name is kristabelle riley and i’m sure we’re all gonna become very familiar with each other,” she smiles, everyone watching her with confused yet intrigued looks on their faces. 
“let me start by vowing that tonight, and every night after this, is gonna be like a freakin’ movie so let’s. fucking. party! we have to make sure that we all totally have a-”
the elevator dinging shortly followed by the doors opening cuts the girl’s ill-timed, embarrassing monologue short. parents mumble their disapproval, her own smacking her lightly in the back of the head, as you and your dad share another amused look. 
“hear that?” your dad asks quietly, the two of you the last to leave the stuffy elevator. “like a movie.”
you can count on both hands how many times you’ve managed to laugh within these past few years, a soft chuckle leaving your mouth that has your dad’s own lips quirking into a smile. 
it’s been a long time since he’s heard that too. 
you think it to be a good sign that laughter only continues down the hallway, three bouts of giggles and good-natured shrieking coming from your new dorm room.
a pretty girl with purple hair and dangling earrings is the first to meet your gaze, her smiling face only getting wider when she sees you standing outside the door.
“oh, my gosh!” she squeals, the two people beside her snapping their heads back. “y/n?”
“hi,” you smile shyly, eyes moving to the woman’s hand on her shoulder. almost as if she’s, both, holding her back from running toward you and doesn’t wanna let her go yet.
“are you yunjin?”
you know in those first five seconds of meeting her that she’s gonna make your vow of not wanting to make friends incredibly difficult; probably a lot harder than kristabelle’s vow to party your semester away.
yunjin breaks away from her mother and barrels right into you, taking the items from your hands so she can give you the friendliest, tightest hug you’ve ever received from a stranger.
you expect to hate it, not used to physicality or human touch like this anymore but you think that’s exactly why you find it slightly comforting.
“yes i am!” she says, pulling back with a bright, teasing smile. “it’s so nice to meet you! i don’t usually hug, i promise, but this first meeting totally warrants one.”
“she hugs all the time,” the woman looming in the back says, her smile just as amused as it is fond; it doesn’t take much to figure out she’s her mother.
“if she gets annoying with it, because trust me she will, she’s no stranger to being yelled at. let her have it, y/n.”
“ugh, mom!” yunjin whines, pulling back from you so she can playfully smack the woman’s arm. “i’m trying to make a friend here.”
the two share a soft, amused look that can only be shared between a parent and their child, a mother and her daughter, and that reminder leaves a painful ache in the middle of your chest. 
“where do you want me to put this, y/n?”
you don’t know when your dad got beside you but were grateful for his interruption, about to tell him to just put it anywhere before yunjin speaks up again.
“oh, yes, sorry for just leaving my shit everywhere,” yunjin says. 
“i didn’t know if you had a side preference so i just put my stuff in the middle. i know some people like to be close to the door. we probably should’ve filled out more of those questions but i...”
you’re realizing two things in this moment.
yunjin, as nice and sincere as she seems to be so far, can’t seem to keep her mouth shut.
and now you, someone who suffers from nightmares every night like clockwork and prefers silence, have to share a room with someone just a few feet away from you. 
you’re wondering for the life of you why you didn’t think to put in a request for a single room. you know your sob story could’ve gotten you one. 
“...the window is nice but i think our allergies could act up because of that super pretty cherry blossom tree right there but, again, totally don’t care about the temperature in the room. my mom likes it cold, because of her menopause, and my dad prefers it a little warm so i’ve learned to-”
“yunjin, please,” her father sighs, putting a hand to his aching temple. “you’re talking a mile a minute. we didn’t even get to introduce ourselves.”
her dad turns to yours who’s been absorbing it all silently, similiar to you.
the boxes he held are now at his feet, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket where you’re sure he’s fiddling with a box of marlboros. 
“hubert cumberdale,” the man says, shaking your dad’s hand before he turns toward his wife.
“and my wife, marjory stewart-baxter. i hope our daughter hasn’t left you too concerned about who yours will be spending her time with.”
“okay well that’s like super rude,” yunjin says, a smile tugging at your lips. 
not even five minutes in and she’s already breaking you down.
“it’s nice to meet all of you,” your father says, voice gruff per usual but his eyes with a hint of lightness; he didn’t miss the ghost of a smile that appeared on your face, gaze shifting to you knowingly. 
“i think they’re both gonna be just fine.”
you ignore the tears that threaten to burn the back of your eyes, reality finally seeming to set in about what you’re doing - leaving your father, starting college, meeting new people who don’t know a thing about you but notice there’s one less person in the room here with you - and how important it is that you don’t get distracted.
“-overbearing! you’re so overbearing and i don’t know how you don’t see it. literally non stop since junior year started, why do you think i’m so fucking over-”
even with a funny chipper roommate and floor mates who are ready to party like you’re in a coming of age movie, you can’t forget why and how you’re here. 
“no! i didn’t ask you to speak to my counselor! or help me with the college process or tell me to look into engineering when i’m not even interested in that!”
who you’re here for and who you owe everything to for the rest of your long, undeserving life.
you’d switch places with her in a heartbeat, because there’s no way the universe should’ve taken her and kept you. 
“i know you’re stressed and upset so i’m sorry but do not curse at me, y/n. i’m only trying to help and understand you. i only ever want you to be happy and-”
“is that okay, y/n?”
you didn’t even realize there was a whole conversation and lunch outing planned until your dad’s voice pulls you back to the present. 
“what?”
your voice is shaky but no one says anything, gaze shooting to yunjin who’s looking at you with a watchful expression; you don’t see pity, which is a good sign, but it also only took her five minutes to see there’s something wrong with you.
“yunjin’s family invited us to lunch,” he says, the look he’s giving you like he somehow knows where your thoughts were making your stomach churn painfully. 
“oh. okay,” you mumble with a nod, the soft smile you send their way lessening the slight tension in the room. “yes, that’ll be nice. thank you.”
it’ll be less sad than sending your dad away immediately.
having at least another hour with him until you say your goodbyes for good and he goes back to an empty house. 
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the next few days consisted of unpacking your stuff, preparing for classes that officially start tomorrow and getting to know yunjin in the most overwhelming, eye-opening way possible.
she made you realize just how little social interaction you’ve had over these past few years, your susceptibility to just sit in silence (and enjoy it) striking the girl. 
“really, y/n, if at any time my...chatter becomes too much, just let me know,” yunjin says, the two of you in your dorm room putting the final touches on decor.
although not speaking about a matching theme or colors, yunjin’s purple matched nicely with your pastel pink and minimalistic approach to decorating.  
“i promise i won’t be offended.”
but how can you tell the girl, if you had it your way, you would prefer if you two sat in silence for 90% of the time?
“it’s okay,” you say politely, shaking your head as you arrange your bedside table; you don’t have the heart to tell her, more often than not, you’re able to block her out and occasionally answer with hums of agreement without her noticing.
“are you sure?” she asks, jumping up on her bed (you picked the one closest to the door) as the mattress squeaks slightly. “i don’t wanna be annoying.”
your heart aches at the innocence in her tone, looking up to shoot a small smile her way. 
“you’re not, yunjin, really, it’s okay,” you say, “if anything, it’s probably good for me to be around you.”
“why? because you don’t talk much?”
you don’t know if it’s her blunt words or the look on her face after she says it that makes a laugh bubble out of your chest, her wide, horrified eyes staring back at you.
“i- i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to blurt that out, my god.”
you bite down on your lip to control your laughter, shaking your head with a small smile. 
“it’s okay. you’re right. i don’t really talk much,” you say, your goal about not caring if you made friends shot right to hell; of course you had to become roommates with the nicest girl in existence. 
“but i don’t want you to think that means i’ll be annoyed by... how much you talk,” you say, “and how fast.”
a giggle leaves her mouth as she slaps her hands over her reddening cheeks.
“fuck. i do talk fast, don’t i? it’s worse when i’m nervous, like during a presentation or something, oh-em-gee. i hope we don’t have to make too many presentations here.”
and just like that, yunjin’s mouth is going off about when she threw up during a social studies presentation and you’re arranging your bedside table items like she’s a music playlist or podcast in the background. 
you thought you’d be overwhelmed by her. 
that, given how happy and cheery she was, she was gonna try to get too personal too quick and completely close you up into your jaded shell. 
ask you why for the past three days in a row, you were asleep after her and awake before her. why you snuck out of the room one night with heavy breaths and shaky hands that you couldn’t control. 
you didn’t exactly wanna tell her about your nightmares but you also think, if they start to get in the way of her sleeping schedule, she has the right to know.
not what they’re about, or why you have them, just that they happen and are the reason for you escaping into the cold night air at two o’clock in the morning. 
a loud knock at door causes you to jump, ripping you from your thoughts as yunjin starts to grumble in annoyance. 
“this dumb motherfucker, i told him we were going at six,” yunjin mumbles, hopping off the bed and making her way to the door. she rips it open with an impressive and terrifying strength for someone her size. 
“um, can you not tell time or something? i told you we were going at six,” you hear yunjin snap, her sweet, chipper voice uncharacteristically snappy. “i didn’t get to warn my roommate you were coming.”
“um, and what would she need a warning for? we’re gonna be the three muskateers, doesn’t she know?”
“i literally didn’t mention you at all,” she says flatly, a smirk pulling at your lips; leave it to her to already know someone this well on the third day. 
you look in the doorway to see a tall boy taking up the space, his shaggy brown hair hanging over his forehead. the first thing you notice is how broad his shoulders are.
“well then i’ll just introduce myself, you rude ass,” the boy’s deep voice says, his gaze meeting yours as he welcomes himself into your dorm room.
“cute room. it’s coming along nicely girls,” he says, your lips quirked into the smallest of smiles; you’d say it’s more of a confused smile, eyes wary but intrigued. 
“i’m a little pissed yunjin didn’t mention me but it’s fine, i’ll get over it. i’m mingi, her-”
“high school bestie who followed me here because he’s co-dependent and a coward,” yunjin interrupts, voice cold like ice and matching her gaze. “but i still want us to be besties here, y/n. college besties, which is way better. please don’t be confused.”
“what? besties?” mingi says, mock disdain and anger in his tone. “besties, my ass. who the fuck else is gonna put up with your headache inducing mouth? you never shut the fuck up.”
“and y/n never speaks! we’re a match made in heaven.”
“you don’t speak?” mingi asks, his head snapping over to you curiously. “like for real?”
“i speak.”
“she speaks!”
“she doesn’t speak a lot,” yunjin groans, reaching her arm out to swat at mingi. “i wish you gave me time to warn her you were coming. i’m being a totally rude roommate right now.”
“no warning needed, it’s okay,” you say with a shake of the head, waving at mingi from your spot on the floor. “nice to meet you, mingi. i’m y/n.” 
mingi plops himself down on yunjin’s bed and completely turns his attention to you.
he ignores his friend’s attempts at ripping him off her bed, complaints about his dirty clothes or making himself too comfortable falling on deaf ears. 
“what are you studying here, y/n? something tells me yunjin didn’t cover the basics with you,” mingi says, throwing a judgmental side eye at his bestie. “she likes to get into the stupid shit first. she didn’t know i had a brother until last year.”
“you never talk about him!” 
“y/n was about to answer me you rat,” mingi spits, your eyes bouncing between them in amusement; they’re crazy but you think you like them. “anyways,” he smiles, “you were saying...”
“engineering,” you answer, ignoring the twinge of pain in your chest; it’s quick to be replaced by amusement when you watch yunjin and mingi’s faces drop.
“um, okay girl boss,” yunjin says, mingi not being able to hold back his snort. “that’s so cool!” 
“thanks,” you smile softly, mingi looking at you as if you’re a mermaid with three heads. 
“you’re probably like smart as hell then,” mingi says, holding out his fist to you. “you can tutor us in life.”
“i don’t know about that,” you mumble, reaching out to bump his fist. you notice then how large his hands also are, some chipped black nail polish remaining on his fingers. 
“who cares,” yunjin says, “you’re still a baddie pursuing a stem career.”
“look at her trying to show off,” mingi mocks, elbowing yunjin who’s fought the desire to rip him off her bed. “she’s never used the word pursue in her life.”
“i can still read and write at a 5th grade level, thank you very much,” she snaps, eyes narrowed and burning into him. “the same can’t be said for you, though, given the fact you’re still an hour fucking early. the little hand was supposed to be on six, you know.”
it’s amusing to you how different yunjin is around you versus with mingi. it’s clear they’re close friends, super close friend with the type of banter and connection they have. 
you need to resist the urge to make friends, you know they’re gonna be nothing but distractions, but you also already really like them.
you should probably pull back though. try to create some distance and space and-
“what are you guys studying?”
you blurt out the question before you can even stop, about to apologize for cutting off yunjin before she answers without missing a beat. 
“journalism,” yunjin says with a cocky smile, “that’s why i knew the word pursue. not to brag.”
“please,” mingi scoffs, a sheepish look on his face as he faces you. “i decided to be liberal arts. since i don’t really know yet.”
you feel a pulling sensation at your heart due to the look on his face, all of the hesitance to share and confusion behind his soft brown eyes.
that would’ve been you if life went differently - you might not have even been sitting in this very dorm room.
“that’s okay,” you tell the boy softly, “how are we really supposed to know right now anyway?”
“i know right!” mingi says with a shrug, leaning back on yunjin’s bed like it’s his own. “i feel like you totally do though. engineering is some intense, ambitious shit. had to be something you were always into, no?”
a lump immediately forms in your throat, a heavy tightness that you’ve become all too familiar with.
when the memories and flashbacks come back to remind you of what’s haunting you. 
remind you that, even if you can distract yourself with conversation or media for a little bit, there’s a deep, ugly cloud of guilt hanging over your head and threatening to drown you. 
sometimes, you think the lump is just permanently there and you’re used to it at this point.
that it only gets bigger in times like this, when you fall into silence and hang in your head in shame because if people look hard enough, they’re gonna see the type of person you are. 
the type of person who can live freely, shamelessly, even with what they did and who they’ve hurt. 
“i hope that you'll think about looking into engineering like we talked about. i know it’s a lot but starting soon could...”
“you know what, it won’t hurt going to dinner early actually, i’m starving!” yunjin says, her voice causing your head to snap up. her gaze is right on you, expression not giving away anything except the comfortable smile on her face.
“we were thinking about going to a sushi place off campus. is that good with you, y/n?” 
the lump in your throat and threat of burning tears are enough to prove that you’ve done enough today. you’ve done enough pretending and felt enough happiness today than what you deserve. 
you already completely and utterly failed at not making friends. 
“actually, i’m not very hungry. think i’m just gonna stay here and prepare for classes tomorrow,” you say, looking over at mingi who watches you with curious eyes; you’re quick to avoid his gaze.
“thank you for inviting me, though.”
“you sure, y/n?” he asks, seemingly not put off by your lack of eye contact. “we could go somewhere quicker if you-”
“no, it’s okay.”
you can tell yunjin wants to say something but decides against it, sending a smile your way before finally, victoriously, pulling mingi off her bed. 
“let me know if you want me to bring you something back,” she says, linking her arm with mingi. “now pretend to like me.”
“emphasis on pretend,” he says, meeting your gaze with a soft look; you can read pity pretty well and you see the slightest hint of it behind his eyes. either that or he’s completely weirded out by you. 
you’re not sure which is worse. 
“it was nice meeting you, y/n. hopefully we can hang out soon and become close enough to ditch yunjin.”
you bite back your smile as you wave goodbye to them, telling mingi it was nice to meet him too before watching them leave.
yunjin throws her head back in laughter and it echos throughout the hallway, the last thing you hear before the heavy door slams and leaves you silence.
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people either seem to have a history and english brain or a math and science brain - when you first started your education, you were miraculously blessed with neither. 
school was never something you enjoyed or something that came naturally to you. 
you were the type of student who needed to study for hours to get the high grades you did, not able to just soak up information in class or look over a review sheet before the test. 
you only learned that two years ago. 
that when you really sat down and tried, worked your ass off to the point of headaches and eye strain, you were a good student - lucky for you and your future engineer self, you came to be a math and science person.
your first two classes of the day were social science electives that looked interesting enough to you, the professors nice and funny with syllabi that were to the point. 
they had every assignment for the semester clearly stated and detailed, all of which you planned to get started on within the first few weeks of school - you had your few days to mess around with yunjin but you told yourself last night today really starts your college career.
where you have to stay focused, get the work done, and remember the reason you’re really here. 
your final class of the day was physics and you could already feel that ache in your head building. the kind where you stare at the same page of a textbook for three hours and still not understand anything. 
you were lucky enough that the building was only a two minute walk from your last class, finding the room on the second floor with ease. you were surprised to already see your professor and two other students in there. 
they were both in seats toward the back, furthest against the wall; naturally, you choose the first seat in the first row. 
“you’re both juniors?” the professor asks, a tall man with gray hair and glasses standing at the podium. “this class usually has a sprinkle of everyone.” 
“yeah,” the one boy says, white tank top and sunglasses on. 
“so how ‘bout you make this class easy on us, prof?” the other one chimes in, an accent you can’t quite gauge booming through the room. “we bet our brothers we’d be able to pass with at least a c so our fate is in your hands.”
“i’d say the fate is in your own hands,” he answers with a smirk, gaze full of mirth as the two boys groan at the teacher-like response. 
the professor takes note of you in the front row and smiles, walking a syllabus your way and putting in on the black table top. 
“are you a junior too?”
“freshman,” you reply softly, voice scratchy from the array of introductions today. his response is a low hum of approval, his gaze shifting back to the two boys.
“you two might do well up here, if you wanna pass my class so bad.”
your cheeks warm at the way they chuckle like they wouldn’t be caught dead sitting in the front but you don’t care. you read over the syllabus like it’s your job, concerned when you see the only grades will be your midterm, final and three extra credit homeworks. 
more people pile in as class time approaches, loud chattering and annoyed grumbles as they pass by. only one other person sits in the front row with you, her headphones popped in as she goes all the way down to lean against the wall. 
you’re re-reading the syllabus for the third time when the professor starts class, everyone’s conversations halting as he makes his introduction.
“i’m sure you guys have been doing them all day but i want everyone to introduce themselves quickly,” he says, eyes meeting yours before a smirk pulls at his lips. 
“how ‘bout we switch it up and start with the people in the back? tell us your name, what year you’re in, major, and one fact about yourself.” 
a fact about yourself. 
that’s always the one you struggle with; what kind of fact is, both, interesting and appropriate enough to share in a room full of strangers?
people rattle off their names and major after major; you learn that there’s only one other freshman besides you so far and many people in your class don’t seem to know the definition of a fact. 
“the office uk is better than the american office.”
“halloween is the most overrated holiday.”
“i discovered last night that my new favorite drink is vodka cranberry. it’s not only for females.”
your lip unconsciously curls at the way his voice spits out the word females, biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t sigh.
everyone that follows is a little more tolerable but still not at all helping you find a fact to say - your other professor had would you rather questions which greatly helped your anxiety over a stupid little ice breaker. 
you don’t even realize the girl at the end of your row speaks until you catch the end of her sentence, “i have three dogs.” 
you have none. that doesn’t help.
a nervous lump forms in your throat at the way the silence falls and you know you’re the one expected to fill it. the professor looks at you expectantly and your lips tug ever so slightly, licking over the chapped skin before you open your mouth.
you already know your voice is still gonna be scratchy. 
“my name is y/n, i- i’m an...” 
your fingers are together and tugging at the skin around your nail as you try to hold yourself together. 
“engineering major,” you say, the words foreign on your tongue, with memories you definitely don’t need right now threatening to surface. your eyes suddenly find great interest in the painted over nail poking out of the doorway. 
“it’s my freshmen year and a fact about me would be...”
you wrack your brain for something, anything, the stupidest or most mundane of facts to pull out of thin air right now - you even consider lying for a moment, because would someone really try to fact check that you know german because you lived there for a year?
a tall mass of black and white clothing with silver chains pulls your attention from the top of the door frame - the first thing you’re struck by is how sharp his facial features are, how soulless his eyes look.
a piercing brown, nearly black, color as he surveys the room full of people, his eyes landing on you as you immediately notice him.
usually when someone shows up late, there’s a hint of embarrassment - red cheeks, wide eyes, a bowed head in hopes that the world will swallow you hole because there’s nearly 30 pairs of eyes on you. 
but he’s completely... indifferent, a quiet confidence even. he could care less if people stare at him or if they don’t notice him. 
he could care less that you’re one of the ones blatantly staring at him, with a narrowed, almost annoyed look in your eye because even though he momentarily saved you from sharing a stupid fact, he’s an obvious interruption. 
his black undercut fits his absurdly attractive face a little too well, the matching shade of black in his striped shirt with white showcasing his broad shoulders.
not as broad as mingi’s but broad nonetheless.  
a silver chain hangs to the middle of his chest, empty hands adorned with rings making you wonder how he could show up to class with not even a notebook or backpack. 
you think the scariest part about him though, apart from his stare, are his boots; they’re as dark as his hair and look like they could break someones hand if he stepped on it with just the smallest amount of pressure. 
given the dark look in his eye, you don’t think that’s an unlikely scenario. 
“hello? are you in this class, young man?” the professor asks, pulling both your gazes away to the older man. “if so, you’re late.”
an awkward silence hangs in the room, everyone waiting for the mystery boy to speak. to apologize. 
your eyes peer back up to him just as his heavy boots stomp past you, getting about four rows down before the professor speaks his name.
“are you park seonghwa?” 
you shouldn’t even be interested, you shouldn’t be distracted or care in the slightest, but you crane your neck back to see him turn around, meeting your (nosy) gaze again before shooting the same daggers at the professor. 
what’s wrong with him?
“yeah.”
“you walked in in the middle of our icebreaker,” the man says, tone icy at the obvious disrespect. “we’re sharing our name, major, what year everyone’s in, and one fact about ourselves.”
“i’m a junior studying business.”
his voice couldn’t be more deep and booming. he couldn’t sound any more bored and indifferent to be here and, for some reason, that makes you angry.
you know you’re not the only one watching him, you see everyone else being just as nosy as you and yet, when he moves his gaze from the professor, his eyes are back on you.
dark, cold, emotionless, before he rolls them and takes the last empty seat in the back row. 
figures.
“mr. park,” the professor says, your attention back to the front of the room. “you didn’t give us your fact.”
with how silent and tense it is, you can hear the sound of his annoyed sigh. your professor seems intent on him answering, though, his head cocked as he leans on the podium awaiting. 
you’re really starting to get annoyed now, wanting to just get the class on with so you can hear more about what you have to do, when he finally decides to speak. 
“girl in the front has a staring problem.”
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“so...” yunjin squeals, the two of you back at your dorms after a day full of classes. “anyone peak your interest today? stem guys are probably sexy, although complete assholes.”
“those would be the business guys actually,” you snap, unable to stop the words that leave your mouth. 
you would laugh at yunjin’s expression if you still weren’t fuming, half amused and half completely shocked by your outburst. 
“oh? what happened?” 
what happened after that asshole seonghwa embarrassed you in front of everyone was a classroom full of chuckles like you were in 5th grade. the professor let out a sigh and began class with defeat heavy in his tone. 
“that’s all i have for you guys today, took it easy since it’s your first day,” he says, nearly 40 minutes left of your scheduled class time. “i believe we meet three days a week so i’ll see you guys then.”
you didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered toward the back of the room. you actually slightly encouraged it, cheeks still hot from embarrassment.
“and please everyone, let’s try to be on time from here on out.”
there was a flurry of chairs squeaking, backpacks zipping and shoes clattering on the floor as everyone eagerly rushed out of the room. 
you heard the mumbles and laughs of everyone who passed you, triple checking your textbook with the one listed on the syllabus to avoid the mosh pit of people. 
you were also avoiding at all costs the mass of black clothing and demonic eyes, the anger that burned through your body like one you haven’t felt in a while.
you’ve only felt empty and sad, like a shell of the person you used to be. you only knew you were living because the seasons were changing and months were passing by.
but the way park seonghwa so shamelessly and obnoxiously called you out, you and only you, even though he made his late entrance the biggest show of the century, filled you with such anger. 
you can’t have any distractions, especially for this class, but you also aren’t accustomed to dealing with complete assholes anymore. 
when the room is silent enough, only a few students lingering with conversations and questions for the professor, you quietly get up from your chair to begin the journey back to the dorm. 
you’ll probably get lost because you’re not used to this campus yet but you could always-
a large body colliding with yours causes you to fall back into the edge of the table, a piercing pain shooting you in the back. you hiss through your teeth in pain, your bag of books smacking against the side. 
you’re not surprised to look up and see those dark, storm clouds for eyes staring down at you, full lips that fit his stupidly proportional face in the slightest of smirks.
you’re not even sure you can call it a smirk but it’s just as irritating as one. 
“staring again?” 
his voice is low, mumbled but still full of amusement. you’re sure no one heard because everyone’s still carrying on with their conversations and not giggling at your expense. 
you narrow your eyes and can now confidently say there’s a smirk on his face.
“people usually look at the person who rudely interrupts them,” you mutter back, surprised by how easy it is to hold his gaze; you forgot what a bad temper you could have. 
“is that what you wanna call it? not a-”
“staring problem? no. definitely not,” you say, pulling your heavy bag back on your shoulder. “now can you get out of my way?”
you don’t give him the chance to step back on his own, instead shouldering him ever so slightly to walk out of the room.
"nothing happened,” you mutter, still feeling that slight hint of agitation in your chest. “just some asshole in my physics class.”
because that’s all he is at the end of the day - the asshole in your physics class who, after today, you won’t give a second look, thought or spec of attention to. 
“oh?” yunjin squeaks again, her voice getting louder the more interested she becomes. “is he hot? a hot asshole is absolutely delicious!”
“well, he was definitely an asshole.”
“but was he hot, y/n?”
you give her a blank stare and know you can’t even partake in a conversation like this. something so juvenile and funny and giddy, like two teens babbling about their dumb crushes. 
“i have to start doing homework,” you mumble, getting up from your bed to plop down at your desk; you have a feeling you’re gonna be here all night. 
“oh, my god! he was hot! he was totally hot!”
but hot or not, asshole or not, your interest peaked in the worst type of way or not, it doesn’t matter. nothing else will matter even though these first few days have been begging for you to try and be normal.
because you’re not here for that. 
you can’t be. 
not with the burden you’re bearing and how much damage you can pretend you didn’t cause. 
how much you fucked up everyone’s lives around you and will be reminded of it every day, every night, for the rest of your time on this earth.
you’ll hear her voice and the accident that took her in your head for the rest of your life so, no. 
he wasn’t hot.
you aren’t intrigued.
you don’t want friends and you didn’t like feeling, for the first time today, something but the wracking, all-consuming guilt and emptiness that’s plagued you since that horrible rainy day.
(part 2)
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igotanidea · 2 years
Text
Counterparts: Morpheus x OC Chapter 5
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Summary: Kayleen was born to be the embodiment of Reality. Protector of the Waking World and Keeper of the Order. Naturally, that makes her a counterpart of the Dream of The Endless. Despite their differences in both approach to life and characters they are forced to work together to keep balance between Dreaming and Waking. Thank God, they are both professionals who DO NOT fight or engage emotionally….. Or do they?
World count: 2.669
Prologue
Chapter 1: sometimes reality sucks
Chapter 2 : Welcome back to reality
Chapter 3 : A rough nightmare
Chapter 4: Crumbling
Chapter 5
Falling to pieces.
10 years later.
It’s been a decade since Dream’s disappearance. For the couple of years I tried to find him, to make some contact with him, but all of it was futile. So I stopped trying, my pride screaming at me not to make a fool out of myself. I hate to say I gave up, but I know exactly when someone wants nothing to do with you. It’s like Destruction leaving all over again. And that memory still hurts. Feeling left out, like you mean nothing to the other one.
For the last decade I’ve been jumping back and forth between Dreaming and Waking only trying my best to uplift both of the Realms. After all, I have friends on the other side, and since I have some power in me I could try to help them at least a bit. Besides, Dreaming falling to pieces have more impact on Reality than I would like to admit. It’s exhausting. I mean, my powers only work so far. It feels weird and not right to step in the domain which was not meant for me and it definitely affect my health and well - being. It’s only been 10 years. Who knows how much long I can keep it all afloat and how longer I will be forced to…..
At the same time, I try to keep up my job, being a mentor to my students and coming up with creative ideas to get their attention to writing. I mean, there are so many creative prompts considering the circumstances of people not able to sleep hence no one to watch over this part of their existence.
20 years later
Some of the residents of the Dreaming left the Realm. It pains me, watching it all crumble, but I can do nothing to stop them. It’s like they are starting to believe that Morpheus really did abandon them. I mean, I don’t blame them. Dreams are fading and Nightmares are becoming more predatory. I’m so tired of it. Tending to Waking during the day and Dreaming at night, trying my best to keep the most cruel of Morpheus’s creations at bay. Meanwhile Corinthian freed himself and broke a literal hell on Earth. It seems like he started some cult of him, people all over the World copycatting his actions. This is really bad. For the past 5 years I was able to limit the members of this sect, showing them how much pain and despair they bring, but that’s still not enough. Despair is having the best time ever, I can tell. Death though, wasn’t delighted with the amount of work that was piled up upon her.
Flashback
- I’m sorry Death - I said with so much remorse in my voice. Despite all of the work we both have now, we were able to get together. If you can call it like that. It was more of a running around collecting souls which died of exhaustion and sleep deprivation (Death) and trying to manipulate the Reality to minimize the impact (me). We’re like a damage control team.
- What on Earth are you talking about?
- All of those people dying, being hurt.... This havoc that has been caused since.....
- Stop it. You stop it now, you hear me - she haltered her walk, took my hands, and looked me straight in the eyes - none of this – she waved her hand around - NONE of this, is your fault.
- Then whose? - I say silently.
- You know, you truly are a peculiar human being. Even after all this time you don’t blame Dream for what happened?
- Death.... you were the one who told me what truly occurred to him.
- You mean that he was captured?
- More or less. – I shrugged but even with my sarcastic attitude I can’t quite hide how stressed I am because of it all.
Some time ago Death reached out to me and revealed that Dream was captured by some crazy-shit-ass amateur magus Roderick Burgess. Location? London. She explained she owed me that much as my friend. She was worried of me getting drained of the amount of work I was dealing with. Obviously, the first thought that came to my mind was to rescue him immediately. If not for his or mine sake than for the benefit of Dreaming and Reality. I started masterminding the plan of getting into the Burgess mansion and it was perfect. Until it came to its execution. I suppose it is enough to say that Roderick’s home was not exactly immortals-friendly. The moment I stepped foot inside I started to wince in pain. Apparently the magus used some crazy spells to protect himself from unwanted visitors. What chances does Reality have against magic? I mean, I have some skills, but I’m no witch. I felt utterly defeated, my head spinning and my whole body aching. Brain on fire since I could easily feel Morpheus’s presence somewhere in the house. “I’m sorry, Dream” – I sent him a silent message. “I’m so, so sorry”.  I knew he felt me too and get that. It’s terrible to feel so helpless. Ever since then I put twice as much effort into all my work. Shame it didn’t give twice as much of a good result.  I just wondered why none of his siblings came to his aid, but when I reached Destiny, he just shook it off and said that the Endless do not mess with each other’ s domain.  Wonderful family, truly. So…. supportive.
- Even though, you could claim that you told him to be careful when he went to catch that Nightmare. Corinthian, was that his name? Hell, you even offered to go and help him but he was just too proud to accept that.
I looked down at the ground without a single word. She’s right obviously and he was a stubborn ass,  but on the other hand there is a bit of guilt inside me. I was also the one who forced him to go out to get Corinthian. I was the one who was not able to free him from his cage. I couldn’t deal with some amateur magus using circus tricks on one of the Endless. Shit, I was the one not able to stand up to Destiny when he held me back from taking any further action against Roderick Burgess. I was the one not capable of keeping Dreaming intact.
-Stop spinning Kayleen. You did more than you could have. And for that my brother should be eternally grateful.
-Oh, right. Grateful is just a natural state for him. Can you imagine his reaction knowing that I meddled with the Dreaming affairs? Highway to hell for me, for sure.
-What is it with you, Dream and Hell? Is that some inside joke? Besides, don’t worry about that. I’m going to take you for myself before Lucifer lay a hand on you. No hellfire for you, my dear - she hugged me. - I got to go now, but I hope to see you again, soon. And please, take care of yourself, ok?
-I was always a bit of a workaholic you know? This situation just take it to the extreme – I sighed knowing well enough I won’t keep that promise.
30 years later
Most of the nightmares are gone from the Dreaming. The only dreams left are those who are the most loyal, like Fiddler’s Green. The only place that gives me a little bit of breath and perspective when I visit. A brief moment to catch a breath before mending to another fire. I befriended Cain and Abel who, besides Lucienne still believe that Morpheus is going to come back. Their hope is really admirable, but I have no time nor energy to focus on that. Seems like I’m in some robot mode when I just keep doing without thinking.
Meanwhile, in the Waking World, people has been suffering from coma, not able to wake up. Oh, irony. First, they couldn’t sleep now they cannot get back from dreams. The newspapers even came up with some catchy title for that…..
60 years later.
I’m so tired......
The nightmares now started to invade my sleep. Some crazy kind of retaliation on me, deriving from the times when I tried to keep them in check. So for quite some time I haven’t really been sleeping. The worst part? They pray on my real fears and terrors so I can’t even convince myself that this is not the truth. If nothing else, I know how to spot reality
Thankfully, though I don’t know how, I’m still capable of working as lecturer. My students and classes are probably the only thing that keeps me sane. Recently, we got a visit from this popular author – Richard Madock. My students seemed to be captured by his works, so I decided it would be nice to organize a meeting. It’s surprising how this guy sort of came out of nowhere. Even though he acts professionally, when I first saw him I just get this kind of vibes that made me cautious. There’s something about his creativity and versatility of his works. He’s hiding something, I know it. His words about “strong female characters in fiction” and how much of a supporter of women rights he is just does not match his eyes, his posture, his …. everything. I can sense something fake in his entire vibe. Wish I had enough power to get to the bottom of it.
96 years later
Physically I haven’t aged a day but my general condition really indicates the passing of past 96 years. I hide it under some simple illusion, but it gives me a lot of self-consciousness and anxiety. I guess I might be developing some body issues. Besides, some people (?) can see right through me. Like some fellow librarian.
- You can’t keep doing that - I heard Lucienne’s footsteps as she approached the table I laid my head on for a couple minutes. It was my “Dreaming duty” time and I was trying to find some peace in the Library. We only had a couple books left since at some point the stories started to disappear.
- I’m sorry Lucienne, I just need a second to reposition myself. What part of the castle shall I try to uplift now? – I can’t stop the  yawn and find it hard to keep my eyes open. - Has some dream been unusually terrible? Or another nightmare running loose? Is it about Cain or Abel or Gregory? I can tend to that - I stand up, but get dizzy and fall back down, not hitting the floor only thanks to Lucienne catching me.
- That is not what I meant, at all, Kayleen - she make me sit down on the chair as she shakes her head in disapproval. – you can’t keep trying to tend to both Realms. It’s killing you, All those spacial jumping, stress, lack of sleep. It was never your duty. You are still human, remember?
- Immortal human – I point out - I can’t get killed, even by myself, you know. But I suppose I forgot about that part of myself  after a couple of decades of work. Full workaholic at my best. There’s really no time to think about that.
- Kay… - Lucienne said gently - you need to get back to Waking. You need to stay there for good. There’s nothing more you can do here. Trust me.
- I can’t do that. – I shake my head. - I can’t watch Reality crumble and knowing that the same is happening to the Dreaming. I can’t leave you and the guys alone.
- You just won’t take no for an answer, would you?
- No…. - I smile weakly, still a bit lightheaded.
- You are way too stubborn for your own good. If you won’t let it go I will have to resort to some more drastic measures.
- You wouldn’t do that. - I looked at her with - hate to admit it - fear and disbelief in my eyes .
- It’s for your own good. You still be able to communicate with me through the Ravens. I can assign one specifically to you if you wish. Mathew is the new one and has been very eager to meet you.
- Ok - I say. I hate to surrender, but deep down I know she’s right. Besides, it’s better to leave on my own and keeping this little connection than being banished by Lucienne and losing it all. - but please, contact me as often as you can. I don’t.... I don’t want to be left alone. – with all my mortal friends and acquaintances in the waking gone it won’t be easy to keep going.
- Of course Kay. I could never forget about you - she looks at me with sadness in her eyes.
105 years later
Leaving Dreaming wasn’t much of a help. But – one good thing came out of it. I meet someone who might be special to me in upcoming future. At this point I didn’t even care that he was mortal. I was just in desperate need of company so….
Tom joined the faculty a year ago as a  law teacher. He may seems serious and intense but deep down he’s a joking nerd. Just open up to the limited amount of people who know how to …. make him show his true colors.  And yes, that’s me. I really like this side of his. He tells the best jokes and is always optimistic. Such a reverse to my last male companion. I really like him and who knows what might happen if this keeps on….
So, in general, I let go a bit and a lot of things fell back into their places. Obviously, I still get pain and headaches when Corinthian or some other nightmares mess with Reality but at this point I can handle that. Just doing what I can without pushing too hard. Matthew, the raven, has been the best company I could ask for. Always ready for a pep talk, to help me ground myself and stop me from doing something reckless. He also loves talking but I don’t really mind.
106 years later
I was in the middle of my afternoon class when I fainted. Ok, maybe not exactly fainted. It was more like this feeling of losing consciousness for a couple minutes but when I blinked nothing has really changed. So is it official? Did my sanity finally snap? Wouldn’t be surprising after more than a century. Or maybe…. Maybe things are getting back to normal? As fast as I can I finish the class, getting some disappointing looks from attendants ( it’s still uplifting that I can keep their interests to the extend where they want to go to class instead of skipping them). I need to check what’s happening.
-Matthew. – I say turning around looking for my favorite raven.  – Where are you?
-I’m here, Kay – the bird flies from the sky and land on the nearest tree branch.
-Not here – I whisper – someone may hear us – can’t risk my reputation as a stable person by being seen talking to a bird – I grin – no offence, Matthew.
-None taken.
-Did you feel something strange, too? In the dreaming? Or maybe you were there? I need some information, can you check on Lucienne and let me know?
-Sure thing, Brainy – he gave me that nickname after a couple of lectures he “attended” watching over me. - I’ll be there and back in a minute.
-Just be careful, ok? – I say and I shake at the memory of what happened last time I used those words towards someone else.
-I always am. – with that word he flies away leaving me hanging and thirsty for some answers.
next: chapter 6
tag list is open : @asianfrustration13 @musicconversedance @hyper-half-blood
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userkhael · 2 years
Text
kiss it better
Summary: Your annoyingly handsome brother’s best friend comes over for game night.
Word Count: 1300+
Warnings: RPF, FLUFFFFF
A/N: Kiss It Better by Rihanna hasn’t left my brain since I heard it. I was listening to it while writing this. I just wanted to make something light and a bit angsty just to quench my never ending desire for creating fake scenarios in my head LMAO. I hope you like it. Comments and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated.
PS: Finally making a story using the POV I posted ♥
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After a long day at work, you shouldn’t really do anything else but sleep. But you aren’t living alone and your brother is a huge pain in the ass every Thursday. You can forgive the loud banter and the incessant noises him and his friends make whenever they play their stupid game but the never-ending sexist remarks of his asshole friends really draws the straw. He doesn’t know about any of it and you dread every Thursday that comes.
You wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to take a quick shower and eat before bed. You wake up terribly grumpy without it. It’s like you’re a whole ‘nother person. Rummaging the fridge for milk, you pull out the cereal off one of the drawers. 
The door opens and you close your eyes, as if bracing yourself for “bro” impact. But it’s been five seconds and while your head is down, you listen to your surroundings.
“You feeling okay?” The voice is too near to ignore and when you open your eyes, you almost drop the bowl in your hand.
It’s Henry, one of your brother’s best friends. One of the decent ones. And yet he doesn’t make an effort to correct his friends, that’s why I also hate him. He’s built like a God and his face is chiseled like the Creator really took his time to perfect him. That makes me very annoyed. I hate how the butterflies in my stomach always flutter whenever he’s around.
“I’m good. Only you?” You point at him and he nods, smiling. God, even his smile is perfect. You don’t say another word and you both stand there like statues staring at each other. You know he cares about you like a sibling and sometimes you make it awkward for yourself because you can’t admit that you have a crush on him.
“Yeah, the other guys aren’t free this week.” He fiddles fingers and you almost think it’s because he’s near you. Guys like him have a line of women worshiping at his feet. He can pick one and get his flavor of the day.
“Thank God, I can sleep soundly today.” You comment and he smiles before your brother calls out for him in the living room. He smiles one more time, stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and turned on his heel, looking back at you one more time. You smile back at him and eat your cereal while your chest is beating ever so loudly.
After eating, you tried lying in bed and resting your eyes but sleep never came. All you thought about is how Henry’s lips perfectly move while he speaks, or how his muscles flex whenever he raises his hand. His constant visit to your brother doesn’t help your feelings at all. He’s always been your crush since you’re a nerdy twelve year old and he’s already twenty.Way too experienced but most of all way, way too far out your league. Standing up from your bed, you decide sleep is not for you today and walk towards the kitchen, intent on getting soda from the fridge.
But you almost regret stepping out of your room because Henry’s back is to you and he’s apparently doing the dishes in your apartment. 
“You shouldn’t be doing that.” You say and he doesn’t look back but you can feel the smile on his face.
Opening the fridge and retrieving a soda can, you peek in the living room and see the game is in pause and your brother is nowhere to be found. You’re still looking at him as he loads everything in the dishwasher. Opening the soda can while looking at him seem to be a plausible route at this point but being dumb as you are, your nail got caught between and your flesh got cut by the sharp end. Well, hey, at least you opened your soda.
You hiss because it stung when the soda bubbled up and reached the surface of the can. Taunting you like an idiot. You shake your hand and inspect it but it decides to bleed like a motherfucker. Henry looks back and sees the stream of blood coming from your stupid nail and his face morphs into something you can never understand. He moves at lightspeed and retrieves the first aid kit in no time. He pulls your hand and looks at it intently. 
“Throw away that soda, Y/N.” He says annoyed, dabbing cotton your nail, commanding you like some slave. The damage is worse than you let on. The metal sliced the flesh beside your nail and it wouldn’t stop bleeding.
You drink from the soda one more time, not caring about what Henry said. He snatched the can from your other hand and looked at you, his face red with anger.
“I said. Throw. It. Away.” He emphasized every word and you felt the shivers down your spine. Him putting a bandage on your poor nail just amplified everything. Before he can even lock the bandage, you pull your hand away.
“I can do it myself.” You say, taking the soda from his hand and throwing it away. You take the tape from the kit and sit down on the couch. But then you forgot the scissors and now you can’t cut it with your hand or teeth.
“You’re so fucking stubborn, you know that?” Henry walks to you, places the kit on the coffee table and kneels in front of you, pulling your injured hand again, now finishing what he started. He pours alcohol in a fresh cotton and wipes your elbow up to the palm of your hand without breaking eye contact. You didn’t realize you bleed that much in a few minutes.
“Thank you.” You clear your throat and pull your hand away, not looking at him. But then you feel his hand on your arm, not on a tight grip but definitely possessive. You can’t help but look at him and his lips look so kissable at this distance. You take a deep breath and his breath hitches. The tension between you is building like a volcano waiting to explode. You didn’t move for a few seconds until his lips crashed into yours. Both your tongue and lips melded into each other so easily. You admit this wasn’t your first kiss but you wished it was. You wished it was him you shared all your firsts with.
“My, uhm, my brother —” Pulling yourself away from him and think sane for a minute. If ever your brother finds out, he would go nuclear on your ass and his.
“He got called at work.” He said and you looked at him, not believing what he said. He runs his tongue on his bottom lip and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in a long time.
“Why did you stay?” I asked, trying to still my beating heart.
“I promised to do the dishes and uhm, I was hoping to see you before I leave.”
You look at him funny and he chuckles. “Your brother is going to kill me for doing this but fuck it.”
He caresses your face and this time his kisses are softer, more passionate. And you hold onto his neck while he carries you to your room. Your room is exceptionally dim and you like it that way.
“You can say no right now and I’ll leave. But if you want this too, say something.” He puts his thumb on your lips and it felt like heat radiated throughout your body for the first time.
“Yes. It’s always been yes with you.”
His smile is from ear to ear and I can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl at his reaction. He kissed your whole body and made you feel like you’re doing this for the first time ever.
“Your brother will be so mad when he finds out.”
“Well, he can kiss my ass.”
He wags a finger at me and kisses your neck and ears, his hands on both of your ass cheeks, while he whispers, “This ass is mine now so he can’t kiss it.”
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For the blurb emoji:
Spencer and Female Reader
👥. Friends to lovers
🎞 Missing Scene from S14 Episode 9 ‘Broken Wing’( episode where we find out Tara’s ex husband was a drug addict) The scene I would like is one where Spencer and Tara talk about shared experiences. Reader is there afterwards.
(Optional: 🥼 Tara Lewis as teammate/confidant)
Thank you!
This was such an interesting one! You have such great ideas and I love making them come to life. Hope this was the kind of thing you were after.
Send me emojis for my milestone celebration and I’ll write you a blurb.
Summary - Spencer tries to help Tara see the impact she had on her ex husband without realising by reliving his relationship with you.
CW - drug use and drug addiction, recovering, mild swearing, angst with happy ending.
WC - 1.4K
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Broken Wing
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Not my gif
Spencer wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Tara alone in Morgan’s old office upon arriving home from their latest case.
It had been a rough one for her, dragging up so many well buried memories she’d disguised from the team for three years.
He didn’t blame her at all for keeping this particular facet of her life a secret. Spencer knew all too well how to keep them from the people he loved the most.
He considered leaving her, the last thing she probably needed right now was company. But Spencer knew he was the only one that could even begin to understand what she was going through.
He rapped his knuckles against the half open wood door out of politeness more than anything.
Tara glanced up from her intense stare at her lap into Spencer’s eyes.
“Hey,” she croaked a little, forcing a smile.
“Hey,” he replied quietly. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She shrugged, sitting up straighter in the chair.
“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk but I just wanted you to know if you did want to talk…” Spencer trailed off, perching against the old desk.
Tara looked up at him, her usual stoic eyes held the weight of years of pent up emotions.
“Why couldn’t he get clean for me?” Her voice cracked as she spoke and her eyes searched Spencer for answers she knew he didn’t have.
Spencer lip drew into a tight, sad smile, bracing his hands against the desk for the conversation to come.
Even after all these years, thoughts of his past drug addiction still caused his stomach to coil into knots.
“I can’t answer that, Tara. But I’m sure he wanted to. Drug addiction is a beast. It’s the monster under your bed come to life and it grips you so tight you think there’s no way out. I wanted to get clean so many times before I actually did. It…it…sucks you in.
Drugs make us inherently selfish. I’m sure he wanted to do it for you, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t about you, it was bigger than that. Addiction is an illness. We want to get better, but actually doing it…I know it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Tara exhaled through slightly parted lips, leaning her elbows on her knees.
“Did he think it didn’t affect me? The nights he spent god knows where while I was worried sick about him?” Her tone got a little tense, her anger at Daryl creeping to the surface again.
“I think he probably didn’t think anything at all.” Spencer simply shrugged. “Honestly I know I never gave a thought for anyone else. Sometimes I stayed out all night just wandering the streets high out of my mind. I’d wake up with a ton of texts and missed calls from the team but it never occurred to me that I was hurting them too.”
“What about Y/N?” Tara’s eyes narrowed slightly on him.
Spencer couldn’t help but smile a little at the mention of your name.
“We were just friends back then. She tried so hard to help me, showing up at my apartment at all hours just to check in. Sometimes I’d stumble home in the middle of the night and she’d just be sitting outside my door waiting for me to come home. The drugs didn’t let me understand that she was just trying to help. I got angry, on more than one occasion. Pushed her away, told her I didn’t need her help and that I was fine.”
“Sounds familiar.” Tara smiled wryly. “He could get so violent at times.”
“Like I say, it’s a selfish illness.” Spencer relaxed a little against the desk, loosening his white knuckle grip on it a little. “I don’t think I was ever violent but I was certainly aggressive. Most of all with her. The same way Daryl directed his anger and frustration at you.”
“Why is that?” Her eyebrows pulled down into a frown.
“We lash out at those who care about us most. I think it’s a defensive mechanism? Push away those who care about us and who we care about because even in our drugged states we don’t want to pull them down this fucking rabbit hole with us.
I was undoubtedly in love with Y/N back then as I’m sure Daryl was with you. I didn’t want her to see me in my darkest moment so I yelled and I screamed and I pushed her away because I was…scared.” A few tears gathered at the corners of Spencer’s eyes as he spoke.
“He used to pin me against walls and yell at me like it was all my fault. I was only trying to help.” Tara’s voice pitched a little as though she might cry but Spencer knew her better than that.
“I once screamed at Y/N that I hated her and I wished she’d leave me alone. I told her I hated her and that she was a nosy fucking bitch for thinking she could just show up and think she held all the answers.” A tear escaped his eye as he unsurfaced that memory and he quickly wiped it on his jacket sleeve.
“But you did clean. And so did Daryl. Just not for me.”
“I don’t think that’s strictly true.” Spencer was quick to counter. “I know for me, every word Y/N ever said to me stuck. I might not have gotten clean for her but I did clean because of her.”
Tara’s eyes widened as an understanding passed between them.
Maybe it wasn’t until Mary came into his life that he actually got clean, but she’d still helped. Every fight, every bad word shared had stuck with Daryl.
Maybe she’d helped him more than she knew.
“You’re lucky to have her.” Tara smiled and it only held a hint of sadness.
“Don’t I know it.” Spencer chuckled. “I’m sorry for what you went through Tara, I really am.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry too.”
Spencer pushed himself up from the desk, shooting Tara a soft smile.
“If you ever want to talk again…”
“I’ll be sure to let you know, Spencer. Thank you.”
Spencer nodded and pushed on towards the door.
Outside in the corridor you were leaning up against the wall, a slightly wistful smile on your face.
“How long have you been there?” He cupped your cheek, grazing his fingertips along your skin.
“Long enough.” You shrugged. “Is she going to be ok?”
“I think so.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before slipping his hand in yours.
The two of you started walking towards the elevators.
“I’d say I can’t imagine what she’s going through but…”
Spencer glanced at you as you walked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“She helped Daryl in more ways than she might ever realise.”
You glanced back at him, the look in his eyes telling you he wasn’t strictly talking about Tara.
“I’m glad. And I’m sure she’d do it all over again.” You bumped your shoulder against his and he smiled softly at you as you reached the elevators.
He pressed the button with his free hand.
“You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah Spence, I know. And I love you too. No matter what.”
He slid his hand out of yours and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body and placing a kiss in your hair.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever thanked you for everything you did for me. Sticking with me while I treated you like that.”
“You were my best friend.” You nuzzled into his chest. “And also, I was undoubtedly in love with you back then too.”
As the elevator doors opened you looked up at him with a smile.
He led you inside the elevator and as the door closed behind you he captured your lips in a kiss.
“I’m pretty certain after everything we’ve been through over the years, we can survive anything together.” You stroked a rogue strand of hair back off his face and he hummed at your touch.
“Doctor and Mrs Reid against the world?” He chuckled, taking hold of your hand again and feeling your wedding rings bump together.
“For better or worse.” You offered him a teasing smile as the elevator started making his descent.
He hoped Tara would see the impact she’d had on Daryl one day. It took you a long time to see just how much you’d aided Spencer’s recovery without even realising it.
Drug addiction is selfish and it destroys everything in its path. But without Tara’s insistence, without the fights and the harsh words, Spencer was sure Daryl would not be where he is today.
Maybe one day Tara would be able to take those broken wings and fly.
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WHY UNIVERSAL BACKGROUND CHECKS ARE JUST AS UNLIKELY AS EVER, UNFORTUNATELY
I'm a leftist (Libertarian-Socialist), who votes progressive, because I live under an "elected" government, and I had thought I had purged the MSNBC/CNN Nation from my friends list, but apparently not, as my timeline is just chock-full of media-driven hysteria over current events, so here's a primer:
"Liberals" who think their arguments are clever or relevant to the Second Amendment are exhausting.
They are not the left; they are just one half of the good cop/bad cop act of the corporate owned fire-hose of bullshit that is the corporate media, and corporate America's governing criminal cartel/duopoly.
Both cults "I like simple and ineffectual 'solutions', because they make me feel like I'm doing something, and I'm just stinky with fear."
There are over a hundred million legal gun owners, who some want to punish for somebody else's crime.
Well, there are some things to consider.
We've been a heavily armed country since 1621, and yet the epidemic of daily mass-shootings didn't begin until 20 April 1999 (Columbine), at a time when gun ownership was at an all-time low, and five years after Clinton's assault-weapons ban, so maybe guns aren't the variable.
Maybe, just maybe, dead school-children are the price of the neoliberalism practiced under the "Washington Consensus" of BOTH right-wing authoritarian parties since the 1980's? When your country offers you no prospects, and you become terrified of the future, what then? Fear can make unstable people do desperate things. Add to that a culture of celebrity, and what could possibly go wrong?
https://www.theguardian.com/news/2017/aug/18/neoliberalism-the-idea-that-changed-the-world
Another factor that goes completely unexamined, is the way Ronald Reagan and Tip O'Neill emptied our state hospitals onto our streets, and onto families ill-equipped to deal with the sometimes violent mentally ill.
https://apps.bostonglobe.com/spotlight/the-desperate-and-the-dead/series/community-care/
https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/opinion/commentary/story/2023-04-24/opinion-impact-of-deinstitutionalization-on-homelessness-reagan-mental-health-hospitals-san-diego
https://calmatters.org/commentary/2019/03/hard-truths-about-deinstitutionalization-then-and-now/
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/04/opinion/us-mental-health-community-centers.html
Thank God, the "solution" is so simple...
Also, 84% of NRA members support universal background checks. The problem is, every time a bill comes up for a vote, Democrats add poison pill amendments guaranteeing defeat in the legislature (and the courts), and then they proceed to tell the TV cameras that "once again the GOP and the gun lobby have voted down background checks and defied the will of the people", or some such nonsense.  
If you want to watch Dems sabotage universal background checks (while Republicans roll their eyes and face-palm) in real time, go here:
https://www.c-span.org/networks/
P.S. You can probably guess which one of these three groups I belong to (Hint: It's the one that's growing and actually decides elections):
https://content.gallup.com/origin/gallupinc/GallupSpaces/Production/Cms/POLL/bk82tkyic0sqaulbp34asq.png
https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/vxWG3CrKYLkPwpJHj9BD7ou5DR0=/1400x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/22430597/bbc_k5onqe6g_al6vtvcqg.png
#LaborPartyNow!!!
P S The line, "You don't need 30 rounds to shoot a deer!" is not clever.
The Second Amendment has nothing to do with hunting tools, toys for hobbyists (target shooting), or even weapons for self-defense.
It's about ARMS!!!
It's about the individual citizen's right to arms, so they'll be prepared to join a militia, not the other way around. ‘Well regulated’ at that time, simply meant, ‘efficient.’ In other words, in order for a muster to be efficient, civilians needed to be already armed.
So the "collective rights" argument has a couple of problems that make it quite unhinged from history and reality.
1) As I've mentioned above, Americans have always been relatively heavily armed. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?
2) Contrary to what you were probably taught in school, by the time of the Confederate artillery barrage on Fort Sumter, the war over slavery had already been going on for over six years, and was fought entirely by independent volunteer militia's. Fort Sumter was just the beginning of official involvement by government troops. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?
3) In what universe do government forces need to have their right to arms protected?
4) Since when do National Guard members keep National Guard arms (Hint: they're kept at the armory, and have been since colonial times)?
5) Obviously, "Liberals" are stupid.
Again: #LaborPartyNow!!!
P P S That was ENTIRELY the point of the first fruits of dissent, the 10 Amendments we've come to call the BILL OF RIGHTS (which have become a beacon to aspiring democrats all over the world), to protect INDIVIDUALS from the government they had just created. #TrueStory
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malice-death · 11 months
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RWBY: Favorite Characters
When it comes to characters from Rwby, I have a small list I hold close to my hearts, in other words, people that I like seeing on screen sometimes more than others.
Now most people have watched the series for years, and have tight opinion on characters, but I love how unique the appearance characters is and how they tie to the plot.
So for this post, I thought I speak on my top five faves.
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1. Mercury Black
Crazy to think that some Murderer’s son was going to be the first character that I liked.
Even funnier was, when I first watched the show, I thought that they wouldn’t put a character with some dead dad in the show, and five seconds later is Cinder and Emerald meeting this crazy boy who just straight killed his father.
What a legend in my opinion. But as soon as I saw that he was heading to Vacuo, I pretty much made the same expression as Emerald when he left, I pray that he shows in Volume 10, I don’t even care if he good or evil, I just want to see this cynical soul again.
“Ahem” Moving on.
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2. Oscar Pine
This kid pretty much was the world’s punching bag, all because Ozpin lived inside his head rent free, and while I like Ozpin, Oscar stole my heart with his earnst nature and the fact that he went on to face so much to aid Ruby and her friends.
Even better was the fact that he was such a character, that Team JOYRide wasn’t just going to abandon him, even when Jaune, Yang, and Ren were all working through their own issues.
General Ironwood saw that Oscar was going to give him the information that he wanted and needed to be taken out for it, hell even Cinder said that Oscar was right at the end of Volume 8, so please come on the evidence of a great character is there.
 Finally, I also love the ship Rosegarden, and the fact that the dynamic between Oscar and Ruby is really fun to watch. The fact that they grow together as friends and characters, the fact that they both lean on each other, the fucking fumble before Oscar goes to confront Ironwood! Let me tell you, I could write a small essay, if I had the time.
Well time to move on again, cause I definetly don’t hve time for that.
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3. Cinder Fall
Now I know that everyone hates this character, that everyone depises her, but I love the idea of Fallen characters, the fact that Cinder is the true embioment of such a complex concept.
Even though her backstory arrived late, and the fact that she had failed so many times, its the fact that Cinder is meant to keep falling, she’s meant to keep being Cinderella, even though she no longer has evil stepsisters, she traded one stepmother for another.
Cinder has earned scars, burns, even a grimm limb for all the things that she had failed to achieve. People say that Cinder has no growth, but the fact that Cinder still has to kill, still has to betray, it shows that she has change, for the worse. The fact that she changed her mindset, only to be kicked down for all that can’t do.
Emerald is one of the few characters that cared about her, and because Cinder killed the only other person that ever felt that way about her, she changed herself to never put herself through something like that again, which is why she probably treats Emerald the way she does. Its all in the sense of mentality.
Time to get to the next character, no need to drag this now.
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4. Winter Schnee
God in Heaven help me, why did RT have to make such an interesting woman.
I mean I have trouble picking a character that I like in a show, but Winter fit my description of a hardworking character. She truly reminds me of Jean (Genshin Impact), a woman who goes to lengths, working far harder than she needs to.
But Winter of course is different, like her younger sister, she specializes in Glyhs and the fact that they don’t use heavy weapons. Instead going for more smaller bladed swords, and making every attack count in the long run.
She also teaches the lesson of how hard it is choose duty over family. Even though she loves her family, she still chooses her job over and over again. The fact stands that when she fought against Ironwood, and the fact that Penny chose her to take the winter maiden powers, it was easy to see how much this was going to effect.
At the end of Volume 8, she had to face everyone, including what was left of her family, seeing that Oscar, Emerald, Nora, and Ren were what was left of everyone that she knew.
I bet you she even blames herself for letting Jaune fall.
At the end of the day, she was showed to be such a regal character, that still had the flaws to balance her just perfectly.
Now time for the final faverite of mine.
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5. Roman Torchwick
Surprise, Surprise.
Bet you weren’t expecting that. I have to say I wasn’t either, the earlier volumes are my favorite for the fact that I love watching the first episode over and over again for my own amusement.
My personal watching rule is “If I can watch the first episode over and over again, than its a good series”, and since this rule works for both Rwby and Ouran Host Club, I think I’m in the clear here.
So, to the point Torchwick brought something amazing to the show, showing up in all of his mysterious glory, even if early him was rough around the edges.
I liked the fact that Neo and him worked together, bouncing their attack patterns and even their team skills together.
Also the fact that him being caring about her until the end was touching.
Him coming back in Volume 9 was what broke my heart though, like it was lovely to see him doing his thing again, but at the end of the day we all knew that it was an Illusion that he wasn’t coming back to us.
But I loved every second while he was on, and the way that he left was so touching. A departure for the ages.
Well thats the end of this long post, thank you all for reading.
An here’s a final hug to all that read this post.
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momentsbeforemass · 2 years
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Always bring the kids
When our kids were little, we were always worried when we took them to church.
Would they be squirmy? Would they make noise? Would someone get upset?
Yes. To all three.
We always sat close to the back. In case we needed to take them outside or they needed to go to the bathroom.
There was a man who would turn around and glare at us. Whenever the kids made any noise.
It didn’t matter how far back we sat. Or what we tried to do.
At some point during Mass, we would cross his line. And he would spend the rest of the Mass making us feel welcome in his own special way.
By glaring at us hatefully. Sometimes he would even let us know that we were bad parents or invite us to leave.
We tried going to different Masses. But it didn’t matter.
He must have been part of a large family. Because one of his relatives was always ready to fill in, to make us feel welcome at the other Masses. By glaring at us hatefully. Or inviting us to leave.
It impacted our Mass attendance. There were Sundays when we just didn’t want to deal with it.
The kids knew what was happening. I know because they told me when they were older. That’s the part that hurts the most.
If you’ve ever seen me talk to a family with squirmy, noisy kids during or after Mass, this is the story I’m telling them.
If you’ve ever wondered why every couple of months I start my homily with, “I don’t care if they’re louder than I am, always bring the kids,” this is the backstory.
Last Sunday, when my prayers included a thanksgiving for squirmy, noisy kids in church, I meant it. 100%.
Because I know how much effort it takes to get them ready, to wrangle them in church, to answer their questions, to make it a “get-to-go” thing for them (not a “have-to-go”).
To every parent or grandparent, friend or relative who makes it possible for kids to be in church, every time we see them in church, it shows how much you love them.
God bless you for caring enough to give them the greatest gift, a personal relationship with the God who loves them. Don’t ever stop.
If there’s more that we can do to support you, please let me know.
I don’t care if they’re louder than I am, always bring the kids.
Today’s Readings
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songbird-sunrise · 1 year
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Ooc: Hmm you don’t have to answer this publicly it can just sit in your ask box or something else I don’t mind.
I havent actually been following songbird!wilbur for a significant amount of time, really, the impact was being friends and sometimes friends of friends of people who were running the anonverse and bedrock verse. I feel like I’m overstating my connection, I’m often just following bloggers who are friends with the rp ers, and they are some of the most passionate people they’re totally insane and I love being witness to it
hell, I only started following a couple of months ago, and I didn’t even see whatever meat of conflict that has happened. I’ve just watched it unfold on my dash whatever’s been happening. I don’t think I’ve even sent in an ask.
so that’s to say, I have such a lack of connection to this story, no complex history, no deep understanding, which makes it so much more impressive that the little parts I’ve seen are so emotionally beautiful to me. Even just like the blog header. I’ve been hearing about this story for so long that part of it is the thrill when I do figure out something that’s happened
but more of it? Maybe even most of it? Is because of how much dedication and soul has gone into this story. There is a reason that so many people are passionate, there is a reason that some days I see more fanart of songbird on the dash than like cwjlbur or ccwilbur combined. Because you have made something exquisite with this story and what an honour right? To bear witness to it, even this late, even this far behind.
I think the message, the little scraps of it that my colander brain (system lol) can pick up and I think the message of that. Getting better. Finding community and trust. Finding yourself. I think it’s wonderful.
(What’s embarrassing is that i am for all intents and purposes a fake fan </3 not caught up on any lore I just stare at your header and feel Emotions, so all of this could be entirely 10000% wrong which is why it’s a bit of a like… maybe don’t publish it but perhaps I deserve public punishment for being a clown on anon and sharing emotions)
so yeah uhh you’re amazing I love your rp character and I hope to one day be one of the people posting about them when a particularly cool thing happens. I thank you and applaud you for the amount of work that you have put into this story. Good job. Happy new year to you and happy new year to songbird!wilbur too.
what an exquisite thing I get to see, what could I feel other than honour.
-rib
OOC: Ohhhh my god. oh wow. oh holy shit. this is like the sweetest thing I've ever gotten wtf
usually I don't get very sentimental on here ooc but hey. I'll do it for today
it's been a bit rough writing on songbird-sunrise lately. Nothing I write feels good, and it all feels like such a chore most days. But hearing that you, someone who only recently got involved, loves this silly little character I've made so much absolutely warms my heart. It reminds me of why I do this in the first place
songbird-sunrise is, in a way, my love letter to the dreamsmp and c!wilbur. I know you said your analysis on songbird's themes was probably wrong, but you're actually completely right. We want to show the messy, complicated, hard, and beautiful parts of healing and finding yourself. And the fact that it's conveyed to you without even seeing everything is just. fucking amazing. it's nice to have a direct reminder that I'm actually good at what I love to do for lack of better words
all this to say, thank you. thank you for sending this ask, and thank all of you out there. Whether you're an old fan, a new fan, someone who sends a lot of asks, someone who likes to lurk, someone who makes art, analyses, all of you. thank you, and I promise that there are still some big things planned. The journey of healing is never over, and really, songbird!Wilbur is just beginning :)
-holly and wilbur
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thundergirl007 · 2 years
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feeling nostalgic for TAG
going through and reading those thunderbirds fanfictions i saved because i started getting nostalgic whilst saving them and decided to actually read some of them tonight and yeah i’m kinda teary and nostalgic
so here’s the thing. Thunderbirds was my first internet experience, really. I found Thunderbirds fanfiction on ff.net totally by accident sometime in 2013 and was enamoured and inspired to write my own fanfiction. I was a teenager, my fics were cringy, i deleted 3 of them out of embarrassment years ago. However I have kept a few on my fanfiction profile if people are interested. I was very into Tracy sister stories so. Whoops.
Then around the time of TAG 2015 getting announced I joined tumblr. I remember creating my account AROUND Thunderbirds. I think there was lenleg and danielstss (??) and laylaanne and artisticrainey and politelyscribblingaway (now reallyhardy!) and ladygrimblossom.
Looking in my archive i feel quite embarassed that some of my interactions were quite reactionary. Not in a hostile way as such, but as an example, i wondered why it took Scott 10 seconds to notice a suit missing in one episode and when discussion offered some reasons i was pretty rude in me “calling bullshit”. I was a very emotionally charged 16 year old when i joined and fam i am sorry for some of the tones in which i wrote posts. It was the first time i experienced blogging like this. Sorry that you all had to deal with that 🥺
It makes me really sad to go through my archive to my earliest posts (oh god i was an eager beaver back then but cringe culture is dead i am glad i was so into it) and notice how many of those blogs are deactivated. Like, i know some of them simply changed blog names (i know that lenleg and reallyhardydraws are two people still around) but the others i mentioned had a profound impact on my fandom experience and i’m sad that I can’t find them on here to tell them that.
SO i just wanted to give a very late, nostalgic shoutout to some of my favourite early TAG community peeps here on tumblr all the way back in 2015 (it’s an AGE ago my goodness). I do hope the people that i can’t tag eventually see this post because I really hope you’re all well and happy, and at the very least if you are still on here (i haven’t changed my username lmao XD) i’d love to know who you are now so i can update my memory a little XD.
- @reallyhardy. i know you’re still around, not exactly TAG, but i still love seeing your work. Especially when I compare it to your work back then! It reminds me of such a simple time in my life and I thank you for it. Your art is still one of my favourite chill and cool depictions of the Boys TM ever!
- @lenle-g. same here, I know you’re still here. Loved your art AND your writing (the goose fic. legendary). You were so nice to see on my dashboard and even though i don’t think i considered anyone a real “fandom friend” bc i was young and naive but i think it was so nice to chat headcanons and stuff back in the day!
- @artisticrainey. Tumblr says you’re not here, but I was rereading your Butterflies series tonight and it was the thing that compelled me to make this post because i remember so much of YOU back then. You were such a staple - your writing AND art were incredible, I still recognise your style when I go through my archive. I do hope you see this because you did a few of my prompts (the boys learning to drive!! was definitely one of them!! i was on holiday when you tagged me in it and i REMEMBER)
- Balek (on ff.net - not sure if they’re on here?). You wrote some of the funniest banter between the bros on ff.net that i’ve ever read and i love rereading them. They always do make me smile :D
- @ladygrimblossom. A peep that i remember being involved in all the discussions. My archive is full of reblog chains featuring BOTH of us. I remember one of my most validating (feeling) moments was when i wondered why Scott, described as a “level headed” brother, stopped what he was doing in a high rise rescue to call Alan during Space Race. And you agreed with me. Taking my point further bc i was like 16 and articulating myself badly XD
- @laylaanne. I know you’re still around too, but same again. I just remember you being a big contributor to fandom discussion and in jokes and it makes me happy.
- @doyouheartheangrymen. here’s the thing, i typed that out and i’m JUST now, after 7 years, realising that it is supposed to be read as “do you hear the angry men” when i have been reading it as “do you heart the angry men” (adding an extra t for some reason lmao.
- @duchessnibenhu-ofpyromania. A fandom peep that again i remember interacting a lot with in discussions. I remember we shared an ikea dresser (i have replaced mine now 😥) and we’ve visited each other’s animal crossing islands!
- @daniellestitt. Someone else that was absolutely here posting meme-y content like this and you know what, i agree. In trash we trust, may he rule over us all.
- @thunderbirdgordon. I remember really liking your art style!! I thought you drew the boys really well and i really loved seeing you on my dash :D
ok so i think that’s everyone. Well that’s not true, i’ve probably forgotten someone. But all the same - to anyone that was around on tumblr in the TAG fandom from 2015-2017 during my formative years...
thank you for such a good time. Thunderbirds is my comfort fandom and whilst i don’t interact much nowadays, i would like to change that. I truly loved all my time in the fandom and I hope that everyone is happy and well. Feel free to shoot me a message if you see this post, i’d love to chat with more people!
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xx-vergil-xx · 1 year
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Oh my god. You have wrecked me. You’ve taken my heart and ripped out all the seams, and I’m holding a battered lump of flesh and sobbing into my pillow like there’s no tomorrow.
“But I–– Christ, Robbie, are you really going for good?”
The jumpers, GOD.
When my grandfather passed away, I took one of his shirts. I’ve never worn it but two or three times, but I can’t bear not to have it. I have never read something that resonated so deeply with every miserable crevice of my soul.
God’s teeth, I’ve never cried so hard in my life. To lose such a constant - you’ve taken every desire I’ve ever had in grief - every ache humanity has ever had in seeing death and leaving people behind you, and you’ve made it beautiful. You’ve made it so beautiful it hurts.
You may consider this a proposal of marriage. Or at the very least, a beg for mercy.
hello my friend <3 i have a sweater that was my grandma’s and i almost can’t wear it but i just have to leave it folded in my closet because i also can’t have it far from me. the way we love each other in tokens we carry pieces of each other.
i was thinking a lot writing that little bit about how when you miss someone we hold on to the things they left and the fact that it hurts to see those pieces or touch them almost makes us want to keep them more. when i went through my first breakup i had one of those silly stuffed build a bear frogs he’d given me for valentine’s day that i’d kept in my bed and i had these two opposing urges, i wanted to throw it away and i couldn’t stand to not have it, you know? and i don’t know i think it’s really hard to let go of artifacts, and i think we’re not meant to. i think keeping the pieces is beautiful. it’s nice to have something to hold to, even if it hurts sometimes. and especially clothes too there’s something very intimate about wearing something that was once someone else’s. it’s like a transferral of touch thing? had a lot of thoughts writing that part and i’m so glad it resonated with you so much!
and thank you so much for your high praises <3 it means the whole world to me that my writing like, has impacts like this. it’s the highest honor an author can receive to know y’know it made u feel things
thank you a thousand times over, and thanks for stopping by :)
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mambalae-s · 1 year
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.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜
ABOUT ME ❥
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜
➸ welcome! my name’s mamba and this blog is like my little hideaway where i repost pretty things and — sometimes — write! i’m 20 years old, with my sun in libra, moon in capricorn, and my rising in scorpio. my mbti is infj and my enneagram type is 6w5. as a person, i think i’m a little more reserved and shy, but i really do wanna make friends here and would love to talk!
➸ ahhh my likes… i enjoy poetry and very picture-detailed writing pieces! the kind that invokes feelings you can’t find words for. i want to try reading a lot more, as soon as i can find time… (o´Å`)=з i think i tend to sleep more than i should, really…
➸ i also enjoy astrology! admittedly im not very well versed or knowledgeable in it, but i do try to learn when i can! im also really interested in angelology and demonology — one interesting thing i’ve noticed is that the gods of genshin impact, as well as aether and paimon, are so far all named after demons of the ars goetia. every now and then i’ll go down a little rabbit hole deep diving information and reading up on them… it’s very fun!
➸ though i haven’t watched as often as i once did, i do enjoy anime and kdramas! ive most recently seen fire force and the glory! haikyuu is a favourite of mine, so are demon slayer and fire force! i’m also reading the jujutsu kaisen and mha manga in teeny tiny increments — every few months i’ll remember to catch up again before leaving them to stack up wonderfully for me to binge (o´▽`o)
➸ my other interests aside from writing include tarot reading! i’ve been practicing for a year just about, and since then i’ve gotten so many decks! i recently got one focused on angelology which im really interested in. there’s a demon counterpart with the 78 demons of ars goetia which i also want to get… but i need to manage my finances wisely and slow down… it’s really hard, trying this self control business..!
➸ though! if you ever do wanna ask me for a tarot reading, i’d love to do one too! i always like to practice, and it gets a little muddly reading for myself alone so! if you’re ever curious, send me an ask!
that’s all for now! thank you for taking the time to learn about me — i’d really love to make friends here, so don’t be scared to come talk with me about anything at all! (o^▽^o)
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huskymaine · 2 years
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Unpopular opinion : kakairu ship is overrated
strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree
I am not actively ship it, but I can see the appeal of this ship. They got shy-shy in their conversation about Naruto, Kakashi’s ‘tough way’ and Iruka’s ‘soft way’ at handling Team 7’s Chuunin Exam, Iruka protected a kid and the Kakashi came and strongly grabbed the Pain’s hand from Iruka, those scenes are indeed very alluring and potentially create many romantic fluff and domestic scenarios. Because of that, I don’t think this ship is a crack ship despite the little amount of canon basis compared to other Kakashi ships like KakaObi, KakaGai, and even KakaYama. Also since KakaObi, KakaGai, and KakaYama are fully developed only on part 2 (KakaGai got some development on part 1 too and KakaObi was hinted) making KakaIru has the advantage of an early start. It’s really not weird or surprising that KakaIru has the most contents among Kakashi ships.
But I am admittedly very, veeerrryyyyy picky when it comes to consuming KakaIru contents like fics or fancomics. Why? Because I just love Kakashi’s canon story and characterization so much while in my opinion some KakaIru contents overrate the impact Iruka has on Kakashi and vice versa to the point that it massively deviated from their canon version.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to be a picky person in the sea of KakaIru contents and find one from the million KakaIru content that was ‘clicked’ for me haha. Very often I stopped reading KakaIru fics halfway because I just feel disagree downright annoyed with Kakashi’s (also Iruka’s) characterization as the story goes. So sometimes I filtered out KakaIru tag when I am in the mood to read fics or fancomics. Sorry.
I mean like, Iruka and Kakashi are acquaintance at best, stranger at worst. And truthfully, there’s nothing wrong with that. Romantic story between two acquaintances and even strangers are valid especially when they have common interest, in KakaIru’s case namely Naruto. But, sometimes its shippers try to push Iruka and Kakashi to be each other’s “one and only” too hard, and that resulted in a complete erasure of other people that was already in Kakashi and Iruka’s lives. For example, I read a fic that portrays Kakashi didn’t have any real friend before he met Iruka. That truly left a bad taste on my mouth because Gai is the realest friend you can ever get and there’s nothing fake in Kakashi’s friendship with Asuma and Kurenai. Or the description that “Iruka is the only one who can touch and melt Kakashi’s cold heart”. Uh, canonly Obito holds that role and then kinda bit Team 7. In canon when Kakashi and Iruka met and talk on the first time, Kakashi is already a quite warm person (see Kakashi’s conversation with Inari). Also those who portray Iruka as the only one who can surprise Kakashi, say hello to Kakashi’s beloved Most Unpredictable Number One Hyperactive Knucklehead Ninja (PLATONICALLY).
Then in Iruka’s case, I know that a filler episode made Kakashi to be the one who convince Iruka to accept Naruto, but on Chapter 1, it’s wholly Iruka’s effort to sacrifice his life for Naruto and acknowledge his existence. To give the credit to Kakashi for the sake of romantic story is quite bit....unsettling for me. Also about Iruka’s grief for his parents. You can hate Hiruzen all you want, but the one who told Iruka that he was not alone after his parents’ death is Hiruzen, not and never Kakashi. Lastly, indeed Iruka was dramatically saved by Kakashi from Pain and maybe also in other fillers episodes, but he was still a trained ninja. Him tearfully praying “Kakashi-san (or usually “Kashi”, when the fic is already at the point of calling nickname), please save me!” every time he encounters danger is a huge disservice for him, don’t you think?
Not to mention KakaIru contents that completely strayed from canon like secret ANBU Iruka or Popular Sex God Kakashi...
So yeah, while I understand the appeal of this ship and think there’s nothing wrong the fact that it was the most popular Kakashi ship, I was a bit saddened by the fact that majority of those huge number of shipper contents have a very little care of canon characterization to the point that it feel for me like I don’t read a story about Kakashi and Iruka, but a story about two strangers that were named Kakashi and Iruka. I know that it can’t be helped for them to go hard on headcanon land since KakaIru has a very little canon basis but still...
(Or someone can pretty please recommend me KakaIru fics and/or doujins that have Kakashi and Iruka in character?)
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beterpbarker · 2 years
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This is a tall order but I’d love to hear your pitch for a Spidey show or movie series if you’re down to share.
Hi Friend! @thespacevagabond
LOL first I wanna say I am so sorry that this ask has been sitting in my ask box for a couple of years now 😅 . I would love to give you my full answer but unfortunately that would take forever. Since you asked me this I’ve been writing down all my thoughts,I went overboard lol. I even went so far as writing out genuine scripts lmao. I’ve filled nearly a whole notebook at this point. I want to be able to give you a relatively coherent answer and I don’t really believe what I would like to see in  a Spidey show is unique so I’m going to try not to go into to much detail. One day I will post everything I’ve written down but today is not that day. I do want to answer you though, this just wont be very in depth (and it might not even make much sense lol).
Anyway to start it would be a multi season show, with maybe 7 seasons? That feels like not enough but i fear more would be too many. I’m undecided on whether it would be animated or live action but if it were animated I would prefer it to be styled like ITSV. The animation in that movie is some of the best I’ve ever seen and the style is perfect for the story. This would be as close to a 1x1 adaption as possible. The only real changes to the story I would like are ones that would simply make the overall story better for TV.
Now as we all seem to like to point out Spider-Man is basically a soap opera. I think that is one of the most appealing characteristics of the comics. So I would like to keep that element. The drama and messiness of a soap opera. I would also like to focus of Peter’s civilian relationships. I want his cast properly adapted and respectfully adapted. I want it to feel like the people creating the show have as much respect and love for the source material as the fans. I would start with the obvious origin story in high school but I would prefer him to if not be a senior in high school then start maybe near the end of junior year? I don’t want him to be eternally stuck in high school (I also personally find the majority of his time in high school fairly boring, I like seeing him interact with Flash, Liz, Betty and Jonah but god sometimes it’s just 🤷). At most we would spend only 1 season in high school.
I’m not sure which BIG plots and villains would make the cut but Norman is 100% in it. There are so many big things that happen and I have yet to try writing them out to see what flows best and would make the most sense. Overall though as far as crime fighting goes I would like a more subtle overarching plot with villain of the week style episodes thrown in. My only reason for that is because that is how the majority of the shows i enjoy are formatted and it’s what keeps my attention best lol.
Ideally there would be less action scenes compared to..well... everything else. I’m not the biggest fan of gratuitous fighting or explosions. The MCU style of movie/show were it’s big boring action scenes separated by one-liners is the worst style of movie/show. I don’t want this to be all action and no plot or character development. I think on of the best and most important part of Spider-Man is Peter and his friends/family.
I want to see Peter in his very first relationship with Betty. I want the love and drama and trauma between Peter and the rest of the Coffee Bean gang. I want to see Flash go from high school “bully” (that’s in quotes because is it really bullying when half the time Peter is provoking him lol) to one of Peter’s best friends. I want to see Harry’s struggles and the dynamic between Harry and Norman and Peter. I want to see Norman being himself. I am so tired of seeing creators constantly trying to redeem him.  I want to see the death of Gwen Stacy and the impact it has on ALL of them not just Peter. Ideally I would want Glory to show up too at some point but limiting myself to only 7 seasons and with everything else I would like to include I’m not sure where I’d be able to squeeze her in.
And I do want to see him being quipy and quick but I also want to see him being a dick. Because he is. I’m tired of the constant woobification of Peter Parker. I also don’t care for team ups (unless it’s the F4 or like Daredevil) So, I would LOVE to see his animosity towards other heroes and team ups lmao. I don’t want to see Peter Parker friends of cops. I want to see Peter Parker vigilante.I want the friendly in “You’re friendly neighborhood Spider-Man” to be sarcastic.
You know that scene in The Amazing Spider-man, I want more of this. Also I want little ways to show how incredibly smart Peter is. I don’t have a clip of it but you know that scene in ITSV where Peter is watching Octavius type from the vent he’s in and he’s clearly memorized what she’s typed. I want more of that.
If it were possible I would make the worlds longest show and adapt as much of the source material as I could while still keeping it a coherent story with a clear ending. However, I also don’t know how I would warp up my little (extremely long) show. I’m a sucker for a tragedy. I personally would like to see, overtime, how this group of people we love and that love each other slowly get torn down and apart.
(I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the BBC’s Merlin or if you even like it but it’s on my mind at the moment. and you know how it starts happy and hopeful aside from a few unfortunate events and then slowly circumstances get worse and less joyful and then on Christmas eve they murder Arthur and my soul. We all knew it was coming it’s an Arthurian legend adaption but it made you hope things would be different because you love them so much. But in the end no one really survives, just Merlin all alone in the 21st century. This isn’t really relevant other then I love the pacing and how tragic it was even though i knew he what was coming I wasn’t prepared)
Of the five of them I see the only real survivor of it all being MJ. Peter would be the last to die though. He’d have to be, I don’t believe there’s ever going to be a situation where he would/could give up being Spider-man for good. BUT not everyone likes a tragedy and I would like to create a show for all the comics fans out there tired of the MCU slapping comic character names onto their OCs and bargain bin heroes. So, I am not opposed to a happier ending. One where (like MC2 Peter) he’s been injured so he can’t be Spider-Man, maybe someone else takes his place (Miles perhaps?). He and MJ and end together maybe even with their own little baby Mayday.
I want to go into so much more detail, I’m struggling not to pull out my notebook to give you snippets of what I’ve written. I’m going to stop here before I give in. I hope this answer is satisfactory.I’m not very good with articulating my thoughts and i don’t believe I have any original thoughts on all of this. I hope you enjoyed my rambling and again I am so sorry this took me years to answer only for me to not even given you my complete thoughts lmao.
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coffeeman777 · 1 year
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I want to witness to people. I had a dream recently about witnessing to an irl friend who had (in the dream only, I’m positive she would never in real life) decided she was gay, and now an online friend has decided she’s not really female, and I want to witness to her and other people but I’m so afraid. It’s not an excuse for being a coward but ever since I was little I’ve been rejected over and over, whether (multiple times) as a little kid for just plain being ‘too weird’ from people I thought were friends, or later for being a Christian, and I’m so afraid to lose the people I care about. I had a half an hour sobbing breakdown a couple months ago because someone I actively dislike and find irritating said something to me in a way that twigged those feelings of rejection. I just imagine out what I would say witnessing to people in my head instead of doing anything, which helps exactly no one. I want to be brave but I balk at even the thought of telling people who’s friendship I value about what I believe. I keep making excuses for myself and I’m so frustrated. Hypothetically I want to witness to my friends but in reality I don’t want to because I’m afraid of the reaction. I want to really want to tell my friends about God, and I want to be brave enough to do it. But I’m not.
Heya.
First, let me apologize for taking so long to respond. I've been caught up in a lot of other stuff and I honestly forgot about this ask (and few other items in the inbox). Please forgive me.
I totally understand the fear. I used to feel it, too. Sometimes, I still do. Not long ago, a friend of mine who was a new Christian said some things about his girlfriend at the time that led me to suspect they were sleeping together. I felt like I should tell him that sex outside of marriage is sinful, but I was really worried I might offend him, damage or lose his friendship, and perhaps even negatively impact his brand new walk with Jesus. But I also knew that real love would warn him away from sin; that's what Jesus would do. I stewed in my stress for a few minutes, then just blurted it out. Thankfully, he received it well. We're still friends today.
You're going to feel a little fearful. That's par for the course. There may be negative consequences to deal with. But at the end of the day, it just comes down to being obedient to the Lord; we have to be more concerned about obeying Him than upsetting others. That's how it works for me. I imagine Jesus standing beside me, encouraging me to do the right thing. Then I take a deep breath and do it. Over time, the fear will diminish. All the more so as you learn more Scripture and apologetics. And the feeling of knowing you obeyed the Lord will outweigh the fear and anxiety.
Pray and ask the Lord for boldness. Stay in the Word. Study apologetics. And then look for ways to bring Jesus into your conversations. A lot of the time, if you just mention Jesus or some aspect of the faith, the person talking to you will ask questions about it, and then there's no reason at all to fear, since they opened the door to talk about it.
It may also be easier to start by posting explicitly Christian things on your social media. Online conversations are a lot easier to have, at least in my experience.
I hope this helps. I'll be praying for you!
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fawn-princess · 2 years
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i’m soo grateful and sooo blessed for the life i have and how far i’ve come. like god really came through for me and made things better than i could have ever even imagined. but i’m in a little rough patch rn. like things aren’t nearly as bad as they used to be but i still find myself getting stressed out sad and depressed still. like the fact that my sister has cancer rn and the way it’s been impacting my family is really sad and heartbreaking tbh :( like i hate it and i wish things were different. idk how to help her either and tbh there’s nothing i can do. and i really miss my friends like it feels like we’re so out of touch rn bc we just went down different paths. like they all have boyfriends and i’m so happy for them but also sometimes jealous and resentful but only bc i wish i had a boyfriend too!! it just doesn’t feel like it’s in the cards for me right now bc of my family’s stuff and also just where i’m at with my education and career. like the program i’m in is sooo intense and then i have to do internship stuff on top of it and it just gets so crazy. like i had the craziest day today and came home and drank a glass of wine which i barely ever do. and i really just have high expectations of myself like i want big things for myself and i don’t wanna just be the average girl. but that also comes with soo many sacrifices and idk sometimes it’s just lonely and sucks. i have a therapist and she’s great but she’s just kind of like the average karen in the suburbs with a husband and kids and i just can’t relate to that. like i feel like i’m the only girl boss i know and it just sucks rn. i know i’ll make it out the other side and the vision i have for my life will manifest but it’s so hard rn. like sooo hard. but i refuse to give up. i have no choice but to make it happen for myself. all i want is to live up to my fullest potential, whatever that is.
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