#if you dont understand this you probably have really boring shitty sex
Text
#meme#if you dont understand this you probably have really boring shitty sex#not sorry#oml one of my stupid vanilla friends is arguing with me about this#he says because top and dom usually coexist means theyre basicslly synonymous#no#hes dumb and if he didnt live in canada id punch him#thank god i never fucked this guy it would be so boring
17K notes
·
View notes
Note
Responding here to ur tag response to my question on this post so i dont clog up your notes over there 😅
That concept is so cool!! Can you tell me more about the dynamics? (Like what are the specific differences that made you classify Sabito as alpha prime instead of just alpha?)
When you say the Primes effect more and are effected more than the others what exactly do you mean?
Do you become a Prime when you take on a certain roll in your pack or is it just a option during the initial presenting event?
Are Primes like a subsection of their dynamic or are they a whole new one? (3 broad dynamics society vs 5 specific dynamics society)
How does everybody being abo (and Sabito being alive) effect their relationships with each other in this AU compared to canon?
And lastly, what are everybody's designations in this au? 👀
I kinda got carried away with the questions whoops
ok important distinction to get out of the way first- i see a/b/o as terms to describe phenomena, not strict definitions people fall into. i dont like omegaverse things like that bc 1 i love biology & speculative evolution and through that lens it makes absolutely 0 fucking sense to me and 2 i dont like omegaverse basically being reduced to sexism 2.0 with submissive feminine omegas, dominant masculine alphas, and boring betas.
i completely understand and see the appeal in traditional a/b/o but i also think its severely limiting
to answer your questions off the bat:
sabito as an alpha prime mostly just bc i really really like giving him big/visible fangs and that influenced some worldbuilding choices lmao
imagine having ur senses turned up 200%. theyre just as affected by a drop of pheromones as normal dynamics are a litre. theyre way more sensitive to others' and their own is far more potent
theres no 'presenting event' either you stay not very reactive to pheromones(beta) you start reacting to pheromones normally(alpha/omega) or you start to be fuck-off sensitive to pheromones(a/o prime) (ppl dont choose or get assigned a secondary dynamic its just something that Happens and a/b/o are terms used to describe wide trends)
its still 3 broad dynamics, primes are considered a sub-category/more specific variant of alpha/omega
mmm, id say overall theyre pretty much the same? rengokus & mitsuri are closer-knit, tengen and them kinda make a trio, sabito's almost part of the mini-group(The Loud Ones)- sanemi and obanai still dislike giyuu, now its got an added 'omega has his alpha wrapped around his finger and makes him do the dirty work instead' bc he never bothers to defend himself from them so sabito steps up and tells them to fuck off- then theres the obvious kamado situation. sabito's neutral abt them after he gets over his initial anger but cmon. its tanjiro. youre not staying neutral for long. giyuu more protective of them from the get-go
theres only a few ppls who are set in stone lmao- sakonji-alpha sabito-APrime giyuu-omega tanjiro-OPrime nezuko-N/A sanemi-beta obanai-beta mitsuri-OPrime kyojuro-alpha
my version of a/b/o
secondary dynamics arent dependent on sex, theyre two separate spectrums and secondary dynamics are Secondary
secondary dynamics start to develop with puberty, not really finished until somewhere in 20s
you cant tell what someone's secondary dynamic will be until it starts to present
betas are the hardest to tell bc sometimes ppl are just late bloomers, late20s-30s and they still dont react to scents very strongly or havent had a heat/rut theyre probably a beta
[shitty doodle of the parabola graphic- up-down is omega/alpha left-right is not sensitive-very sensitive]
betas still smell scents but arent sensitive to pheromones and their own arent very strong either, some can have mini-heats or ruts. overall if theyre not very reactive to scents and they dont have noticeable fangs or any changes to their reproductive organs theyre considered a beta
alphas and omegas have stronger scents (a beta would need to be actively projecting their scent to be on the same level as alpha/omega's baseline) and are sensitive to pheromones.
secondary dynamics influence sex but are not influenced by sex; males who are omegas can develop female reproductive systems and females who are alphas can develop male reproductive systems. this results in tons of possible combinations, though not everything /works/ since they'd need the matching internal & external parts to actually reproduce.
with male omegas/female alphas; commonly, either the secondary reproductive system doesnt develop at all or the secondary external develops alongside the original*. less commonly the secondary external develops and the original internals swap to the secondary. very rarely the secondary will fuck up the original internals and make someone sterile. very VERY rarely will someone develop both original and secondary reproductive systems that are fully functional
main biggest difference between alphas and omegas is mostly in whether they have a heat(& nest) or a rut(& claim territory)
heats typically start off with some warning signs before the actual heat kicks in(preheat) omegas will start to be clingy and seek safety/closeness with their pack for a few days, along with starting to give off a heat scent. omegas usually dont smell their own heat scent until its already pretty strong(closer to heat) so others around them usually notice the scent first. heat hits with a full body fever for a day or two, its extremely uncomfortable and usually omegas drop out of coherency. behind the scenes all kinds of reward chemicals and other important stuff in the brain are thrown way out of wack- no one really notices that tho bc theyre usually blearily rolling around suffering through a mind-numbing fever. after it abates theyre left with the still fucky brain balance and dont really get back all the coherency they lost from the fever, still a little out of it for the whole duration of heat. theyre more sensitive to changes in their emotions and more sensitive to physical contact, heats in their usual state are non-sexual and an omega simply seeks security affection and comfort from their pack. excessively negative emotions caused by lack of security or comfort can cause an omega to be extremely panicky/depressive/aggressive (borderline feral) and its not fun for anyone involved. the omega going through it is overrun with negative thoughts/feelings/emotions and the scent of an omega going through a disruptive heat is especially nauseating & discomforting to anyone around (an intense need to Fix It and make the omega feel better). on the flip-side, omegas being more sensitive to emotion and physical contact can lead to a state of near constant euphoria/ecstasy in sexual heats between mates (the more traditional version of heat)
omegas will go into heat in the presence of another omega's heat if they are emotionally connected (family, pack, friends, etc) and an omega's heat can cause an alpha to start their rut (& vice-versa ruts causing heats)
ruts cause a similar fucky brain balance but not nearly to the same degree as heats, alphas will seek out affection and their instinct to protect is sent into absolute overdrive. mother hen x500. it causes them to be a lot more agitated which leads to more aggression bc more things are seen as a threat.
sexual ruts with mates sends their instinct to make sure the other IS and feels safe/good into overdrive and They Will Not Leave Their Mate
nesting is the usual find soft things make comfy/safe bed/area for pack and is extremely personal/fiercely defended from those who its not meant for; claiming territory is a wider application of 'make area feel comfy/safe for pack' alphas will patrol or steak out vantage points of their selected territory, like omegas they also dont take kindly to intruders**
alphas are built a bit more for power and tend to be offensive/face confrontation head-on(make opponent lose ground, get threats as far away from my pack as possible); while omegas are built a bit more for speed/agility and tend to be defensive/run loops around confrontations(dont let opponent gain any ground, keep threats from getting any closer to my pack) its not solid evidence when trying to tell someone's dynamic off it alone because people's natural variation is so wide and people's experiences can change how theyd react to stress and such so its usually ignored but trends Can be seen
*giyuu's like that male omega has both parts externally but no uterus so. no mpreg for him</3
**it can be kinda subtle sometimes, one example ive posted is sabito physically situating himself so hes between his pack(giyuu/tanjiro/nezuko) and the threat (sanemi/rest of the hashira)
i think thats everything? feel free 2 ask for clarification if i fucked up explaining or missed something
#abo sabigiyu surprise adoption au#i need a better name for this au its hard to type(it doesnt automatically pop up when i start typing it)#could change it to the much more catchy mamasabigiyu i use in my notes#heats/ruts are nonsexual by default theyre supposed to be cuddle sessions. basically biologically enforced Group Rest Time & Social Bonding#oh fuck i didnt even think abt scenting#shit. fuck. this whole damn time and i never thought about scenting. fuck my entire life#makes me think of the mitsugiyu abo fic someone posted(& i reblogged- its somewhere under the loserboy tag) mitsuri was all over him#something something scent glands somewhere around the wrists hips & base of neck on either side#its like on the sides of the neck just above the curves of the collar bone. either side of the jugular#hips just inside the jut of the pelvis- those r the spicier scent gland spots when ur trailing- no... i shan't continue....#anyway the prime thing i saw in some abo fic i'll have to find again and i cemented the idea in my own head trying to connect the dots w#tanjiro's super smell ability. hes a little weirdo his enhanced sense of pheromones also translated to general scents & smells#s gotta be overwhelming#anyways gonna stop there i always take to long to write this shit out and even longer to hit post for some reason#goin to bed ill post kitsune!sab tomorrow#FUCK I FORGOT TO MENTION THE FANGS IN MORE DETAIL#ill edit later
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Just wanted to pop in and say how much I adore your fics. The Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon tags are nearly impossible to get through. 95% of the fics don’t even feature them prominently and of the remaining 5%, either they’re horrible people bullying faultless Lyanna and Jon 😒 or wonderful angels (unlike that awful witch Catelyn Stark 🙄) who exist to be Jon and Lyanna’s cheerleaders and absolve them of any guilt.
Also I wanted to commend you on your Rhaenys and Elia characterization. Especially Rhaenys! I think a trend I sometimes see is that female characters are only allowed to be happy after they’ve rejected any femininity and taken up weapons and become brash and daring and loudly opinionated. And those girls deserve happiness for sure! But it’s so nice to see a Rhaenys who does lean towards soft power. Who isn’t only a horse and weapons and wild sex enthusiast because she happens to be Dornish. Because that kind of characterization doesn’t really ring true to me for someone like Rhaenys who is in the spotlight a lot. Who’s actions and personality are going to reflect on her abandoned mother who lost out on the throne. I’m so glad characters like her and Elia and Rhaella get to be the heroes of a story while still performing femininity (and frankly using that as their weapons).
And I think you handle the Lyanna situation very well. Personally I’m ambivalent towards Jon and am not fond of Lyanna. But I also don’t like overblown animosity that feels cartoonish. There might be negative feelings directed at them by certain characters, but they aren’t acted upon in any uncharacteristic way. Those two feel more like afterthoughts to Elia and Rhaenys. And while I very much lean into the drama of it all (because it’s so rare for Elia to win this much) I can very much appreciate the reality that Elia and Rhaenys aren’t spending every waking moment thinking about Jon and Lyanna. They have lives to lead and it’s pointless keeping a scoreboard of who got what win over the other. There’s no need to compete, but there’s also no need to be friendly and accommodating is the vibe I’m getting from your story and I really love that. (But I also like that negative feelings exist because let them be human and relatable!!!!!)
Sorry for the word vomit 😅 but I really love your writing and it’s one of the only things I look forward to in this fandom anymore tbh. Thank you so much!
this is so sweet oh my goodness and I’m in a crappy mood today because of uni stress so this really made my day thank you for sending me this
I’m glad you find Rhaenys and Rhaella exercising soft power interesting. I think you’ve got the right take on Rhaenys! She is someone who would love to be able to be loud and brash and is quite opinionated (see: her outright telling her father she would marry anyone to get away from him) but in the red keep where her every move is scrutinized she doesn’t have the option to do that. She has a complicated relationship with the way she presents herself which is also heavily tied up in the fact that she is the only visibly non-white member of her family and she faces scorn for obviously being half-Dornish.
I think the whole “I’m not like other girls” vibe of only letting girl characters be cool and better when they dislike girls who behave in “traditionally feminine” ways is just as shitty as painting girls who don’t behave in traditionally feminine ways as “masculine” (and trying to say they have male privilege – like what?). The truth is that even though some traits are ascribed by society to one gender or the other – there aren’t any traits that are more inherent to one gender than the other. And quite frankly in a society like Westeros women are going to have a complicated relationship with their performance of gender regardless of how they perform it.
I also really enjoy women in old stories using the small tools available to them as women to undermine a system that disregards them because it’s fun!
Thank you for saying that my handling of the Jon/Lyanna situation is realistic! I once got accused of bashing - which I don’t want to do so that was a bit of a blow. But I don’t think I’m bashing them to have my characters think negatively of them or disliking them. I did some investigation (mainly by reading r/relationships lmao) into how people feel when their parents break up due to affairs and the common thread I saw was a LOT of pain and resentment and yeah some jealousy and dislike of half siblings who resulted from those new relationships. And that’s in our society where we have stuff like divorce and no one’s starting wars over kidnapped fiancées. Imagine how much more resentment there would be in a situation where not only did your father leave you but that also 1. Put your life in jeopardy 2. Put your inheritance rights in jeopardy 3. You can’t just leave and tell him to fuck himself because in this society the family you have grants you saftey and power. Honestly Rhaegar’s lucky someone hasn’t snapped and stabbed him yet.
You're right to say they aren't accommodating or friendly, saying that Lyanna and Jon are an afterthought is probably right. Rhaenys Rhaella and Elia have approached something like tolerance with Lyanna – they’ll leave her alone if she leaves them alone and that’s the way everyone likes it. In an everyone lived situation I simply don’t think it would be realistic to approach it in any other way. And because Elia and Rhaenys are more on the “winning” side of this I dont think they would spend every waking moment dwelling and brooding on Lyanna.
I think this tendency to have Elia and Rhaenys approve whole-heartedly of Lyanna and Jon is caused by 4 factors
1. The misguided need to have them be good or to “give them agency”. Making a character a flat nobody who doesn’t have any emotions towards a situation that would be dangerous and deeply personally humiliating to them isn’t making them good or giving them agency its making them boring and unrealistic.
2. Not wanting to “pit girls against one another”. Look i hate this trope of 2 girls catfighting over a guy as much as anyone else but I have noticed that sometimes people say “don’t pit women against each other” when....2 girl characters don’t like each other for totally legitimate reasons. Elia doesn’t dislike Lyanna because she loves Rhaegar and Lyanna was a homewrecker who stole him. Elia is understandably angry because the whole realm is destabilized, her children’s lives and futures are in danger, and she’s been nationally humiliated. Let female characters be as complex as the male ones. No one bats an eye that Ned and Jaime despise one another because they’re men and we don’t expect male characters to be beautiful angels who never have a bad thought about anyone.
3. To have them be good to contrast “bitchy” Catelyn. Cat isn’t a bitch and I will die on this hill. If you want to look at who was primarily responsible for the whole Jon situation Rhaegar and Ned are right there.
4. Being unable to conceptualize non-white characters as having motivations (and negative emotions) that are either directed towards or separate from a (usually white) fandom fav character like Lyanna or Jon.
#ladies rebellion verse#Anonymous#asks#also i find it funny that the fandom has seized on horse riding as being proof that a girl is special and cool and nota dumb girly girtl#when horse riding was one of the common forms of exercise noblewomen took part in
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
high. suna x reader
and to my message you reply
hi. is this another suna fic based around “why’d you only call me when you’re high”? yeah...whateva
pairing: suna rintarou x reader
warnings: angst, toxic relationship, drug use, nsfw if you squint your eyes and do a little dance, vomit (suna got sick:(), fluff
genre: angst, fluff
wordcount: 2104
a/n: is it fanon? yeah. a little ooc? yeah. sorry :(
fic below da line :)
a late night always holds many possibilities. a party, a date, at the least a break from the status-quo. yet somehow you always manage to find yourself at the exact same spot every time.
suna’s front porch had changed several time since you first started rendezvousing with him. he had a habit of buying large plants, but forgetting to take care of them.
“the only thing he spends more money on than weed is houseplants,” you chuckle. he was still calling you, though he had failed to open the door after five minutes of knocking. you retrieved a key from the underneath of a dying hydrangea plant and let yourself in.
not all of his late night calls were for personal pleasure. there’s been many times where he needed a place to hide from an angry dealer, or an extra $20 from his doting partner. more often than not, he needed someone to ease him off of a bad high. suna has bought laced all too many times, and couldn’t turn to any other responsible figure but you. “you’re really good at it,” he would tell you when you inquired about him calling someone else for once.
his messages were a frenzy of “i need help”, “please come over”, and a million other vies for your company. it had been like this for about seven months: he phones you, you get pissed, and yet you still show up to his doorstep. admittedly, your meetings were generally for sex. you weren’t ashamed of it; but he was.
you told yourself you wouldn’t ever stand for a shitty relationship. yet here you were: a glorified booty call for an emotionally distant man. he only kept you around by taking you on the occasional date. buying you a gifts when he thought you needed one. empty promises of “we’ll put a label on it soon, they’ll know soon.” you knew it was a lie, he did too. but what if one day it wasn’t? what if one of these days he really did mean it? you could get intoxicated off of that feeling, fulfilling his every request for a bit of attention. there was nothing you wouldn’t do to hear “i love you” cascade from that boy’s lips.
pushing into his house, you see him in a crouching position in front of his couch and, god, was he shivering?
“rin? what the hell happened?” you said to him. you didn’t yell for fear of breaking the odd calmness he seemed to be in. his reaction to your worried questioning was delayed. his usual cat-eyed stare was almost comically large.
“went t’ a party. took ‘sum. don’t feel good,” he managed to slur out. you threw a large knit blanket over his shoulders and sat next to him. “what did you take?”
“a tab.”
“of what?”
“i don’t know.”
great. you knew the rest of the people at the party were probably just as high and would be of no help.
not knowing what else to do, you moved him to sit on the couch and grabbed a glass of water. it’s not the first time this has happened, and still he never remembers in the morning. every time he’d wake up and find himself in your arms, he’d blame it on the high and take a shower. suna never asked about the money you spent on ibuprofen to make him feel better, or the hours you’d spent soothing his paranoid psyche, or hell, the shower you’d already given him because he’d made a mess of himself. he never knew about the frantic research you did trying to find out how to detoxify whatever drug he managed to find himself on that night. that’s not what matters right now, though. not to him at least.
“how long ago did you take it?” you asked him. he was sat with his chin resting on his knees, hesitantly taking small sips of water.
“an hour ‘fore i left the party, bout two.”
was there ever a time he checked on you? did he stay up late wondering if you were safe? he did seem to care some about you... anything physical, he bought for you. he always left you feeling satisfied. was it okay to want more? is that what you deserve? of course it is. you should be with someone who treats you with sincerity. someone who shows your beautiful face off to their friends. someone who when they talk to you, they aren’t-
you checked your phone. three: twenty-seven. there’s no point in trying to regurgitate it now. his hands were shaky, and lost grip of the plastic cup containing probably his only source of hydration within the last twelve hours.
the loud crash of his cup on the hardwood helped direct you to the true nature of the relationship you found yourself in. the silence of the home as you went to refill his water didn't help either.
the sudden rush of water falling from the cup onto your hand caused you to jerk you arm back and shut the faucet off. turning around, you’re met with a looming body and a hazy gaze.
“you’re taking too long,” he commented.
you set the cup down and looked up at him. you had a right to know what he was thinking, even if it wasn’t clear at the moment.
“rin…” you whispered. he bore down at you and his eyes sharpened ever so slightly. he must be a bit more cognizant of his surroundings, even better for your question.
“why do you only call me when you’re high?’
in your head, it was beautifully executed. the moonlight coming in from the sliding glass door, your enunciation, his careful gaze. christ, it could be straight from a movie.
suna was a very bad actor. your performance was rewarded with a pile of vomit at your feet and a half passed out man leaning on your shoulder. you guided him back to the couch and laid him on his side, then cleaning up the kitchen.
coming back, you find him awake again, lousily sitting on the couch. he at least had washed his face and changed his clothes.
“i’m cold. come hold me,” he demanded
you really couldn’t help the smirk on your face. he was so needy when he was like this. obediently, you sat facing suna, and he launched himself on top of you. maybe this is why you stay. it was satisfying feeling needed by a man who wanted for very little. you stroked his dark hair and lightly kissed the shell of his ear. “do you feel any better, sweetheart?” you only call him names when he won’t remember them. sober suna would roll his eyes and ask you to not call him that.
“you make me feel better.” honesty wasn’t ever a symptom of his current state but hey, you’ll take it.
in fact, you’ll take full advantage of it. “rin, you’re not going to remember this in the morning, are you?” you knew what the answer was
“...i will.”
your eyebrows knit together and you pull his face to meet yours. his arms snake their way around your neck, his weight forcing you to lay down. suna shoved his face into the crook of your neck. he breathed out lightly, refusing to meet your eyes.
“y/n...why are you so good to me?” is he aware of what he’s saying? does this mean he’s remembered every other time and refused to acknowledge it? questioning his integrity might just ruin it, so you only massaged his scalp.
“because i want to rin. you make me happy, and i want to.” a half lie; would he care?
“but you could be happier without me. i dont get it.”
“i love you too, ya’ know.” it was a concerningly matter of fact statement, especially from him. “i wish i could show you. you're just so pretty, and smart, and just so... so good. you’re pretty scary, you know that? how am i supposed to be vulnerable with someone like you?"
if the ever observant middle blocker couldn’t figure it out, how the hell would you? there’s only so many things you can fully understand.
“because i love you, rintarou.”
you probably shouldn’t have said that, and you knew it. never once had either of you brought up that word. it could easily be the rock to shatter the glass house.
his soliloquy is almost laughable, it’s only what he knows what you want to hear.
“are you still high?”
“not really. my stomach hurts though. and i’m kinda hungry.”
he didn’t get up. instead, he asked you to roll over so that you were both lying on your side.
you had no idea if he was being truthful. he isn’t exactly one to say i love you so freely. but he knows you are close to leaving. a slightly calloused thumb strokes your cheek and lifts your chin,
“i meant it.”
“no, rin. you didn’t.”
a look of genuine hurt colored his otherwise bored face. did he really mean it?
“were you telling the truth?” he asks.
were you? there wasn’t exactly another explanation for your actions.
“i think so, yeah.”
“then so was i.” you thought it was bull, opting to shut him up before he could give you anymore false hope. before you could kiss his face, he beat you to it.
“that’s bullshit, rin.”
it was tentative, hesitant. he knew you weren’t really convinced. if there was a god, he prayed that they would make his testament of truth pass from his lips to yours. if there was one thing he knew he couldn’t live without, it was you. he would not be able to tie his own shoes if you weren’t there to teach him. but how were you supposed to know that. he fucked up big time, why was he just now realizing it?
“after our first date, i told the whole team i was gonna marry you.”
“the coach too.”
suna rintarou telling the entirety of ejp about his love life is laughable. you wanted to believe it, really, you did.
“that doesn’t line up with everything else that’s been going on.”
“y/n i-i know. i’m sorry. i’ll change.” his pleading was pathetic, to be honest. he’s made those same promises before.
he was desperate at this point. suna knew he was in the wrong. there had to be a way to save this; he didn’t like seeing you sad, seeing you leave.
he pulled his phone out, pressing a few buttons here and there. “look!” he said, shoving a new instagram post in your face. it was the only picture he had of the both of you together. he had let you take it. it was a timed photo, facing the two of you in his reading chair. you sat sideways in sunas lap, and your arms were tightly wrung around his neck. he was looking down at you, and you were pretty sure (you hope) he was smiling a little. the caption of his post was simply a heart.
“that’s just a social media post.”
there was that word again. he looked like he was about to cry and there was emotion in his voice, could he really be lying?
“baby please. i’m serious. i’ll do anything."
the usual flat tone of his monotone voice began to have some melody to it. against his own will, it was shaky, trying to find the best words to sing.
"i’ll take you out every day, a-and i’ll get you front seat tickets to my game. anything, love, please just don’t leave me.”
there’s something sweet in a statement that you don’t know the validity of. you can dance around it, pretend it’s true, pretend it’s false. sometimes, you can choose for yourself what tune to dance to. that’s what you’re doing now.
suna’s large hand was petting your cheekbone, and one of his legs was thrown around your body, imprisoning yourself to his ambiguity. how would you win his approval if you disregarded his one showing of vulnerability?
“i would never leave you rin. now get the fuck up so we can go to your bed and sleep.”
his sheets were a pleasant greeting compared to his scratchy couch. he laid flat on his back, pulling you so that half of your body was on his. he slowly leaned toward you, kissing you forehead, nose, cheek, and just about anywhere else he could on your face, finishing with your lips.
you could definitely tell he was lying about how deep his true lack of sobriety was when he threw you over his shoulder, his bad posture refusing to adjust for the added weight.
he always knew you cared too deeply about him, but getting see what you did for him when he wasn't supposed to know. it did things to him. his bedroom door was already open, and he jokingly tossed you onto the bed. not enough to hurt you, but enough to convey his desire for a bit more normality. because that's what other couples did, right? he was trying.
“goodnight, y/n. i love you.”
it was almost instinctual, the way you smiled and chastely pecked his lips. laying your head back down on his chest, you sighed airily.
“i love you too, rintarou.”
#suna#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu time skip#angst#fluff#haikyuu angst#suna x you#suna x y/n#haikyuu imagines
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
forever rain | knj | m
Being dead isn't anything exciting. Just a lot of walking the same halls of the same apartment day after day after day. Things change when the new tennant arrives, though. Kim Namjoon isn't anything you could have expected; not the way he's so careful and gentle with his plants because he breaks so many other things, not the way his friends joke that he's psychic because you refuse to let him get in the face one time, and certainly not the way he comes home after literal months spent moving things away from table edges for him and announces that he knows he's being haunted and he has some questions for you. You didn't know ghosts could fall in love, but he makes you feel alive again, like you're standing in the rain while thunder crashes around you. You should've known nothing good would come of falling in love with someone living, though. You should've known that heartbreak was the only way this could end...that the rain doesn't last forever.
part of the Love Yourself Collab, please please please go check out the other fics. Everyone involved is so freaking talented and I have been vibrating out of my skin with how excited I’ve been to read all of these.
pairing | kim namjoon x reader (unspecified gender, even!)
word count | 18.8k | cross posted to ao3
genre/warnings | ghost!reader, slight fluff, hard angst, literally the most angst ever it gets fluffy for a bit but litERALLY this is an angst fic, major character death, unprotected sex (idk what the etiquette for ghost sex is but you should still wrap it before you tap it fam), depictions of terminal illness (v mild), mentions of blood (several, but not graphic), major character death, allusions to violence, namjoon is a klutz whats new, depictions of terminal illness, major character death, i added that tag three times pls dont read this if you aren’t comf with mcd bc i literally tagged it three times so y’all would definitely see it, also probably have some tissues ready bc i cried while writing it so
a/n | this is, to date, the saddest thing i have ever written in my entire fucking life. formal apologies to this joon bc oh my god you poor soul. i’m not kidding when i say you might cry, because i’m a big baby wuss and cried while writing the fucking outline when i first decided to write this for the collab so like......rip my own heart. i was really honored when i was approached about the LYA collab, bc like,,,,,mE? WHAT? and i was really nervous because i’ve never been part of any collabs in any fandom ever, and to have to do something like forever rain and mono as a whole justice, like,,,,,,, *screaming* y’know?? so i went on mono lockdown and just had the whole thing on repeat and was like “alright. what emotions does this make me feel.” and i eventually settled on the loneliness and isolation that he expresses, and feeling like no one understands what you’re going through, but that ultimately the album as a whole and forever rain give off this feeling of like. things get better, you’re not as alone as you feel, and you just gotta get through the bad stuff to find the good stuff. basically i just got really in my feels about it and was like ‘lets make myself cry ahahaha’ and,,,i dID i cried several times while planning and writing and editing bc im a Soft Bitch and don’t read much angst for that exact reason lmao. so buckle tf up y’all, this a helluva ride!!
Of all the things you'd heard about death, all the different possibilities that existed in the world, the one thing you hadn't been prepared for was the boredom. You hadn't been prepared for any of it, really, too surprised by your own demise to plan at all, but even if you'd been able to, you don't think that this is what you would've counted on. An eternity - or however long ghosts existed - of being stuck in the same studio apartment you'd lived in when you died. The same walls, the same floor, the same view out the only window of the alley beside the building. It's boring and lonely and boring.
You've found more creative ways to entertain yourself as time passes. First, you started by figuring out just what being a ghost meant. You can't really communicate with anyone, haven't figured out how to make sure everything you say is heard, but you can manipulate objects pretty easily these days. The most difficult thing is becoming fully corporeal - completely visible and able to interact with things at the same time. It's hard enough to be visible, and you aren't really sure what the point of it would be when it would just scare whoever's living in your apartment; that's the last thing you want to do, run them off when they're the best source of amusement you've found.
You won't lie, you were a little offended when the first tenants moved in after you. It was difficult to watch your things get packed up and moved out by your friends, hard to lose all of the little things you loved in your apartment, like the shitty bead curtain you'd gotten as a gag gift or the photo collage of all of your loved ones. It's frustrating to not know how they're all doing these days; the one time you got brave enough to fuck with a laptop to check on them, you nearly broke the thing, and you haven't tried since. Still, it seemed cathartic for them to clear out your apartment, and it was a bittersweet sight, but you tried to focus on the positive side of it.
And then the couple moved in.
Not only did they fuck like rabbits - which is something you're going to stay pissed about, because there's no satisfaction to be had by you anymore, and it's the one thing you can think of that would be endlessly entertaining - but the couple was also grossly obnoxious. They had zero respect for your apartment , or you, and while one could argue that they didn't actually know you were there, it still made the sting of losing your entire life that much worse. You spent you don't know how many nights hovering awkwardly in the bathroom while they fucked, would constantly wander in to see them going at it on the kitchen counter at ass o'clock in the morning, and once you came in to see them tossing actual literal eggs at the ceiling like the absolute fucking weirdos they were.
So, naturally, you got a little mad. How dare they treat your apartment like that? They had no respect, but they were going to learn it real quick if they were going to live there with you, whether they wanted to or not.
They didn't last long after the first night of slamming cabinets and squealing hinges, but the thrown picture frame of their family was the conclusive end to their stay.
There have been others, since then. They haven't all been terrible, not like that first couple, but most of them have been sub-par roommates, and if you decided early on that if the rest of your immortal life is going to be locked in one shitty apartment with the absolute worst view in the city - because no one wants to see the drunken hookups and potential body dumps that take place in that alley - then you're at least going to share said apartment with someone nice to exist with.
You release a heavy sigh, staring at where your hand disappears through the shower wall. You've taken to testing the boundaries of the apartment again; you already know what the result will be, learned in the first few hours that you're stuck here, but you can't help trying when you get really bored. You just got distracted fucking around with the pipes in the meantime, because you're literally too bored to even focus. It's part of why you miss the last tenants so much, because you weren't ever really bored with them around.
A single mother and her two kids, crammed into a much-too-small apartment because it was all they could afford, and they were the light of your un-life. One a budding teenager that wrote angsty poetry who loved your trick of making things float around, and one an adorable toddler who adored playing peekaboo with you and coloring, and a mom that was too busy to notice anything out of the ordinary. It was like having a family again, made you feel useful when you could pull the meat out of the freezer for her to make dinner with or scratch a quick 'do your homework' on a steamy bathroom mirror. It was fun and it made being dead that much more bearable.
You really should've known that letting the toddler draw the two of you would be a bad idea, especially since there were several artistic liberties taken. It's not your fault the kid thought you'd look cool with fangs and bloody holes instead of eyes and claws that reached the floor. It was art, it was supposed to be a little different from reality. Still, you can't blame her for seeing the picture of her kid and 'my new best friend' and immediately calling the landlord. And a priest.
So, perhaps you gave the apartment a bit of a reputation. Maybe it's been a couple of months since the mom moved out and took your two buds with her. There might be the possibility that you've been the slightest bit salty about losing your friends and you've been extra-ghost-y whenever someone comes by to view the place in an attempt to make yourself feel a little better. Can you really be blamed for that? You just want a decent damn roommate for your life after death, and if that means putting the potentials through a little bit of a test, then so be it. You only feel a little bit bad for the landlord.
The creak of the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and the echo of a voice makes you narrow your eyes. Your first instinct is to slam some windows to scare off whoever's in your apartment, but you repress the urge. You'd die of boredom if you could die again, and whoever this is could provide a few hours' entertainment at the least.
You pop your head through the bathroom wall to see what's going on, and wow , who let an actual giant into your apartment? Fucking with the pipes could definitely wait for this guy.
"I know it's last minute, yeah," He says into the phone that's held carefully between his cheek and shoulder. His arms are loaded down with boxes and he's angled away from you just enough that you can't see his face, but he's tall and broad and wearing what looks like the world's comfiest sweater, and you want to badly to wrap yourself up in him. "But you know Joon needs the help. Don't pretend you aren't constantly willing to put off your thesis, I know for a fact that you went out to look at stationery with Tae last week, and everyone knows that's the most boring thing on the planet."
He's quiet, listening to the soft crackle of a voice from the other end. You slide through the wall completely, hovering as close as you dare to try and hear what the other person is saying. Tall, Broad, and Comfy scoffs.
"He can stare at one sheet of paper for at least ten minutes, Yoongi. Do I need to remind you of the time he spent an entire fucking hour debating which set of holiday scrapbook to buy because, and I quote, 'this one has the really nice rose pattern on it that would look great with the invitations, but, oh, look at the pinstripes in this one!'" His voice morphs into what you guess is an approximation of whoever Tae is, and you laugh at the high-pitched, nasally tone.
Tall and Broad spins, eyes narrowing as he looks around the room, and fuck , he's literally gorgeous. You've never seen someone more attractive in your life or your death and it would probably knock the wind out of you if you actually had breath. Comfy McGorgeous turns back around and sets the stack of boxes in the corner, continuing his tirade about Tae and stationery while simultaneously trying to talk Yoongi into coming, you assume, to help Joon move. You don't know who any of these people are, but they're already proving to be the most entertaining bunch that's ever graced these walls.
The door to your apartment flies open, making both you and Boyfriend Material whip your head around.
"Christ, Jin, you couldn't hold the fucking door open for us?" Someone grunts. Beauty Von Softness - or, Jin, as you should probably refer to him - winces and strides over to do just that as two more guys stagger in with a couch suspended between them. The second they're in the door they drop it to the ground and flop onto it, panting and sweaty.
"Listen, I was busy trying to get our resident hermit out of his cave to help us carry some of this shit," Jin spits back. "And you all know what it's like getting him out and about."
"Did you tell him that there's pizza after we're done? Because I've found that food is the best motivator for him," the guy closest to the door says. His hair is soft-looking and long and you wish you could pet it.
The other guy, the one who cursed Jin out and has the softest pink hair you've ever seen, laughs. "Jeongguk, you always think the best motivator is food."
"Well, yeah, because it is."
"For you, maybe. Other people require actual rewards."
"But food is a reward," Jeongguk mutters into the fabric of the couch. Jin tsks and smacks As Yet Unnamed on the back of the head.
"You're lucky I hung up on him when you bombarded your way into this place, or he'd definitely not come help us," Jin says as he leans against the back of the couch.
Unnamed starts to say something else but is cut off by someone running straight into the end of the couch. They all shoot to their feet, spouting apologies as the three of them maneuver the couch into the apartment properly.
"Sorry, sorry, Jimin distracted us from properly finishing our job," Jeongguk says quickly. He looks to the stranger with a small apologetic smile, and you're pretty sure if it were humanly possible, there would be actual literal stars in his eyes.
"Oh, it's okay, Jeonggukkie. I should've been looking where I was going." New Challenger walks straight towards where you stand, and you realize seconds before it's too late that he is not aware there is a massive stack of boxes in his path. Instinctively, you shove them to the side with your foot. Tall And Oblivious sets his boxes down without any trouble, none the wiser about any of it, and the three near the couch are too busy bickering in hushed whispers to have noticed you doing anything.
The newcomer straightens and turns to look at them all with a bright smile, and you think you might actually see The Light in the way his cheeks dimple. If you thought the other three were beautiful - which they are, no doubt about that, you're seriously wondering why the hell a bunch of supermodels are moving stuff into your apartment - then this guy is easily an Actual Fucking God or something. His brown hair is soft and shiny, his smile is warmer than the sun, and you're fairly positive that for the first time since you died, you feel goosebumps along your arms.
"Seriously, Namjoon, we should've realized you'd be up soon. You stay, start unpacking while we go get the rest of the furniture." Jimin shoves Jeongguk out the door while he's speaking, ignoring the taller's complaints, and Jin just shakes his head at the sight.
"Yoongi'll be here soon, he's finishing up another draft of his thesis. Hobi and Tae are stopping to get the pizzas and then they'll be here, too." Jin's voice is calmer than it was Jimin and Jeongguk, more soothing, and it makes you curious. Not only because of the tone change, but because you know Hobi, he owns the building and is the one who rented you the apartment when you first moved in. One of your favorite things to do is scare him when he comes by to make sure everything’s ready for a viewing.
"What? No, I said I was gonna pay for pizzas!" Namjoon looks distinctly more upset about this than someone should over not having to pay for pizza, at least in your mind, and it only makes you more curious.
"Yeah, but you also just moved out of your old apartment because it was too expensive, and had like an hour to load everything into a truck, so you're gonna let their trust fund asses pay for pizzas. We're seven adult men, and Guk could eat an entire horse and still be hungry. I'm not letting you pay for that."
Silence hangs in the apartment for a while before Namjoon gives a soft thanks to Jin. They share a smile before Jin makes his way back out. You follow each step, shadowing him all the way to the door before you're stopped. You lean your entire body forward, struggling against the invisible barrier keeping you inside, and the force of it nearly slams you back into the wall when you sag in defeat.
You aren't sure why you try anymore, but you know yourself well enough to admit that you're not going to stop until you can at least make it to the hallway.
Whatever you expected Namjoon to be like as a roommate, however unknowing he is about the situation, you don't think you could've guessed what he's actually like.
Out of the seven boys you saw the day he moved in, he's the only one living there. Not a complete surprise, considering it's a studio apartment, but you remember when there were nine people living there at one point, and there was barely room for anyone to breathe even if it had been pretty consistently amusing. Still, for one person, he's got a ton of stuff, and it's a shock it all fits. His bed is massive and comfortable and the best place to lay during the day because it's shoved between the brick half-wall and the large windows that take up one wall. The area's supposed to be for a dining table, you think, but you'd had your bed there, too, and the familiarity is nice.
His couch is small and old but manages to fit five of them, and it's a pleasantly jarring difference from the coffee table that looks like - and might actually be - an old steamer trunk. The exposed brick wall you love holds his mounted TV, a feat that took Jeongguk and Yoongi a solid hour and a half because they kept stripping the screws, and it's got one of those 8-cubicle bookshelf things under it that stores a frankly obnoxious amount of books.
He's got mugs for days, an adorable if odd collection of figurines and mini-statues scattered around the apartment, a strange obsession with some reclaimed wood shelf he's got hanging above his bed, but the absolute highlight of it all is The Wall.
It took them three hours to get it installed and set up the way he wanted, between the placements and the thick wooden shelf they’re perched on with supports and a small safety bar along the edge to keep them from falling off, but along the entire windowed wall and partway after it turns the corner runs a long shelf absolutely covered in plants. There are some elsewhere, like the one he keeps hanging from the bathroom ceiling and the couple in the kitchen, but most are on The Wall. Each one is in its own special pot, each a unique color with a name painted carefully along it, and most of them look half-dead. They're all distinct and unique from each other and they all surely have different needs and ideal conditions, but you'd never guess because Namjoon is so wholly committed to them all. He takes time every day to water them and prune them if he needs to, he checks on them constantly. He even reinforced the safety bar for the ones that sit beside his bed, so there was less chance he'd accidentally knock them around while sleeping.
It's fascinating, watching him tend to them. He's so careful and gentle, with absolute precision in every moment. He cares for his plants the way some people would care for a pet or a child. He doesn’t believe any of them are past caring for, slowly nurses all of them back to health and frequently turns up with more he’s saved from some department store. The most endearing thing, though, you decide as you sit curled among the haphazard blankets of his bed and watch, is the talking. It's every day, for as long as it takes him to care for the plants, and it's the cutest thing in the world. He's talking to some succulent as you just stare at him, filling the comfortable silence of the apartment with his soft, soothing voice, and you wish he could hear you when you talk back to him.
"I know they mean well, but at some point, I've just gotta live my own life, y'know? I can't study something just because everyone expects me to, and I can't pursue some dream just because people think I'd be good at it. I've gotta do what's right for me, don't I?" His tone is positive and bright, a contrast to the gloomy sky that casts shadows across the apartment.
You float over, hovering beside him to look at the plant he's lovingly stroking with his thumb. It's in a pretty periwinkle pot, with the name 'Mang' painted in careful but shaky black handwriting. It's not your favorite - that's the one in the bathroom that hangs over its light blue bowl, a quickly scrawled 'Koya' on the bottom - but it seems to be one of Namjoon's personal favorites based on how often he talks to it specifically.
"I think it's nice you do things for yourself," You tell him. He doesn't react, unable to hear you, but it's nice to hear your own voice after so long. You slide one of the plants - Chim, in a small yellow bowl - to the side and away from his elbow, and he doesn't notice. "You know yourself better than they do. You should trust yourself."
He keeps mumbling to Mang, something about everyone following their own dreams and doing what they need over what people want or expect, when you lay your hand over his.
Thunder cracks through the sky and the first raindrops hits the window as your non-existent skin hits his, and it's the most real thing you've felt in a long time. It's as if the scent of ozone and electricity is in the apartment itself, crackling in your hair and filling your nose with the overpowering scent of the sweet summer rain. You can almost feel the water hit your skin, the way the wind whips at your hair, and it's so intoxicating that you almost miss the sharp inhale from the man beside you.
He's not looking at his plant when you look up, but instead at the window in front of the two of you. You glance at it, and for a fraction of a second, you can see yourself in the reflection. The glimpse has you jerking towards it before you can stop yourself, desperate to know if something has changed. You haven't seen your reflection since you died, not in the mirror or the window or the toaster, and maybe, just maybe, it means something's changed.
Your hand stops against the glass of the window as you reach forward. You can't feel the cool of it under your palm, but it's no less a barrier for you as it would be for Namjoon. Something in you breaks as you watch the raindrops race each other to the ground.
"Ah, I forgot the forecast called for rain today," he mutters, eyes focused on the lightning that streaks by. He doesn't react when your fist slams against the glass, nor when you let out the scream that's been building in you for however long it's been since you died. You're so close, not even a hair's breadth from feeling something new yet familiar for the first time in so long, and you can't. You're still stuck in these four walls, unable to even reach the air outside.
You just want to feel the rain again.
You move dejectedly away from the window, ignoring the way Namjoon shivers as you pass. The temperature in the apartment has dropped considerably, you think, between the storm and your own mood. You can't tell, really. You haven't felt warm or cold or hungry or anything since you died that isn't the oppressive loneliness of life after death.
A dry sob tears itself from your throat and you hurry to hide in the bathroom as Namjoon turns to look around him. He mumbles something you can't hear and after a few minutes, he returns to tending to his plants, leaving you to your tear-less cries in peace.
It becomes quickly apparent to you that Namjoon should really have a roommate, if only to save him from himself. It takes a few weeks for you to realize this, but luckily he seems to narrate his life as he goes through it - which is overwhelmingly adorable to you, and you refuse to acknowledge that - and that means that you hear it every time he goes, "Ah, Namjoon, be more careful next time," or "Oh, shoot, that's not, fuck, I gotta buy more eggs now." It's painful to watch, even for you, and at some point, you just couldn't take it anymore. No one else is around to help, but someone needs to you, and clearly the universe means for you to be that someone.
It's a full-time job, protecting him from himself. You've saved countless mugs, pushing them farther away from the edges of counters and tables, and been just in time to shove bowls or vases an inch over so that his elbows glide harmlessly past them. It's almost exhausting, if you could get tired you would, but it's worth it, you think, as you catch the bookshelf under the TV as it tilts. You slide it gently to the floor, glad that Namjoon is distracted by how close he came to losing a toe to notice.
Because that's the other thing about this tree of a man: he's the most oblivious person you've ever fucking seen. It doesn't matter what it is you do, whether it's bouncing his spray bottle of water so it doesn't break on the hard floor or shake the counters so that the knife he's about to drop on his fucking hand falls the other way, he doesn't see a single fucking thing. You'd think he was blind if he wasn't so attentive to the way his plants grow. He notices nothing and you're glad for it because you really aren't sure what he would do if he knew you were going around haunting him just to keep him alive. You just want to help, want to keep the soft smile he wears more often around for as long as possible.
You don't dare to look into why you want that, too afraid of what you might find there.
It's also just fun to watch him and his friends, relaxed and unreserved. You never had many friends when you were alive, just a small handful that you really truly loved and whom you miss every day. Watching these seven boys fills you with nostalgia and a strange sense of joy because they really are some of the funniest people you've ever been around.
Like now, with four of them sprawled on the couch while Jeongguk and Hoseok make themselves comfortable leaning against the bookshelf under the TV - which has been bolted to the wall since it almost broke Namjoon's foot - and Namjoon watches them all from his bed since it's the only other place to sit. There are beer bottles scattered around and decorating the half-wall that separates the bed from the room proper, everyone is varying levels of drunk, and you're curled up close to Namjoon, leaning against the wall so you can stop him from knocking over any of the bottles nearby because you know him too well at this point.
"I'm just saying, I don't understand why they made him so over-powered in the new movies, because he's supposed to be some kid from Brooklyn! Giving him the high-tech suit essentially strips him of the friendly neighborhood persona that he's always relied on!" Jeongguk has been ranting for a while about the newest release in the Spiderman franchise - apparently, he's part of the actual Avengers now, which is a shock to you since the last thing you heard before you died was that the franchise was canceled until further notice or something.
"And I'm saying that if they didn't give him the suit then it would've made no sense how he was able to do those things," Yoongi responds. You're pretty sure he's just arguing to be contrary at this point, because you remember him telling Namjoon the other day that he prefers DC over Marvel.
"Garfield's Spiderman could do those things," you mutter, "And he didn't have a fancy suit."
"Okay, then how do you explain Andrew Garfield's version being able to do that stuff? He doesn't need the suit, he never has!" You preen at the way Jeongguk echoes your thoughts. "I'm telling you, I don't care how good the relationship with Holland's Spidey and Iron Man is, by giving him the tech and the advancements they did, they've undermined everything that Spiderman is supposed to be about."
"Jeongguk come off it, everyone knows Garfield's Spidey was just all bad writing. I mean, what kind of person can do all that stuff, realistically? He's the one that really needed the Stark suit." Taehyung's voice is slurred and quiet, definitely as drunk as the rest of them.
"What-! No! I could do half of that without being bitten by a weird science spider!" Jin scoffs at Jeongguk's words.
"Yeah, sure, Guk. The same way you can do that bottlecap challenge."
"Bottle cap challenge, and yeah, I could!" The youngest stands and you don't bother to hide your grimace.
"This isn't going to end well, is it?" You ask. No one acknowledges you, too busy finding something Jeongguk can kick the cap off of as the boy readies himself. He's steady on his feet but his face is red and he can't seem to stop giggling.
"If I do this, you gotta call me SpiderGuk from now on, okay?" He says. No one agrees, but it doesn't stop him from laughing again and doing a couple of roundhouse kicks to warm up.
"Okay, okay, Joonie doesn't have any regular water bottles, but we found a screw-top beer in the fridge so ya gotta use that," Jimin says as he stumbles over with said bottle. Jeongguk just nods, an adorable focused expression on his face. Jimin holds the bottle in the air, and you can already tell his grip isn't tight enough to keep the bottle still when Jeongguk kicks it.
The next ten seconds happen in slow-motion. Jeongguk's leg flies out to kick but his drunken body isn't able to handle the sudden shift in balance, and he slips. His foot hits the bottle slightly too low, and it goes flying out of Jimin's weak grip into the air. Everyone in the room watches as it hurtles straight towards Namjoon's face, and you react out of habit and instinct, catching it in one hand before you even realize you've moved.
Everyone freezes, staring at where the bottle hovers in front of Namjoon's face. You're the only one able to see your fingers wrapped around it. A shock jolts through you at the realization of what you've done and you drop the bottle as if it burned you. Fuck, they were all going to freak, then Namjoon would move out and you'd be stuck alone once more. You should've just shoved him out of the way, what were you thinking, you're so fucking stupid-
"Dude," Hoseok mutters from where he's perched on the arm of the couch. "Holy shit, Joon, you're fucking telepathic."
Yoongi rolls his eyes and smacks his chest. "Telekinetic, you fucking-"
"Holy shit, you've got fucking superpowers!" Jeongguk squeaks. "Do it again!"
Namjoon isn't even able to get a word out before there's a book flying at his face, and you panic. You can't catch it, too rushed, but you manage to deflect it so it hits the bed with a soft thump instead of braining Namjoon straight in the nose.
"Woah, you really do have superpowers," Jimin whispers. He lobs a bottlecap at Namjoon, and you catch it in your palm before letting it drop onto the half-wall.
"I don't have...what the fuck you guys," Namjoon insists. His eyes are as wide as saucers behind the thick glasses he has on. He looks freaked out and you want nothing more than to hug him. Your hand reaches out of its own accord, halfway closing the distance to stroke his hair before you catch yourself.
"Hey, levitate your plants," Jin demands. Namjoon looks panicked as he glances at the wall of plants, and you heave a sigh. With any luck, they're so drunk that they'll remember this as a strange fever dream, but you can't just let them keep throwing things at him. You crawl over to the wall, avoiding Namjoon as you do, and grasp one of the plants tight. It's a white pot with red polka dots, a simple RJ on the side, and it's fucking heavy. You only get it a few inches off the shelf before you're forced to put it down.
"Oh my god, catch this!" Taehyung throws a coffee mug straight at Namjoon's head and you panic again. You catch it, and you've decided you're fucking sick of them throwing things at him, so you lob it back and dart across the room to bounce it safely to the counter before it can break.
Everyone in the room stares at the mug and then looks back at Namjoon, who hasn't moved from his spot on the bed.
"Oh my god, you're a superhero," Jeongguk whispers, awe in his eyes.
"That's fucked up," Yoongi mutters, wincing when Hoseok elbows him.
"Maybe we should get some sleep," Namjoon says quietly. The others look like they want to disagree with him, and you have no doubt they want to explore the newfound 'abilities' of their friend, but they still start gathering trash together before they head out.
Namjoon lays awake for a long time that night, glasses folded and sitting atop the half-wall beside you. He's oblivious to the way you watch him, too lost in thought to feel the weight of your stare or the chill in the air.
"I don't understand," He says after a while. "I really don't, but there's got to be a reason for it." He doesn't elaborate, merely turns over and evens his breathing out until he starts snoring, but you watch him for most of the night. He's fascinating, this human, and you wonder what makes him so different from the others you've met.
He apparently decides to experiment. You've known Namjoon is intelligent since he first moved in and you saw his collectible encyclopedias, but you hadn't realized just what it would be like in actuality.
It starts simple. He'll toss something in the air and let it clatter to the ground. Nothing big, just little things like pencils or bottlecaps, and not far, just enough that his eyes narrow as he apparently tries to use his telekinetic abilities to manipulate them.
It slowly graduates from there. Next comes the way he stares at something across the room, hyper-focused on whatever it is until you notice and move it around for him. It's a guessing game, sometimes, trying to figure out just what he wants to move or how he wants to move it, but each time you're successful, he smiles so brightly, dimples on full display. Who wouldn't want to make him smile like that?
It's hit or miss, sometimes. You're only so strong, and while you've had a lot of practice, you still get tired. You lifted his bookshelf almost a full inch before blacking out. Next thing you knew, a couple of days had passed and Namjoon was staring at a coffee mug. That was a significantly less fun day; between losing time and having to catch coffee mug after coffee mug, you were exhausted and a little shaken.
So when he stops staring at things for extended periods of time, when he starts to go back to reading and scrolling the internet and bingeing all the completed shows that Netflix and Amazon had to offer, you're grateful for it. He still occasionally tests it out; he's always subtle about it, choosing to stare quietly until you notice and make whatever it is float around for a minute. Once you wandered around looking for him - a feat in a studio apartment - and found him just sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at a shampoo bottle.
You'd like to say that you don't move things entirely because he wants you to. It's a good test of your abilities and how far you can push yourself until it becomes too much, and it's always nice to have actual evidence that you still exist - in some form, at least - in the world. The validation that comes from seeing him smile every time you lift a pencil or slide a coffee mug to the side, it's not for any reason but the satisfaction of knowing that you have some kind of existence. Some kind of impact on the world, even if you can't be seen and can't leave the apartment.
It's part of why you start moving things around yourself more often; you're hoping he just blames it on his overactive 'abilities' if he notices because you really aren't sure what he would think otherwise. But you also know for a fact that just seeing that you have some kind of sway over the world still - over the things inside this tiny apartment - makes you feel just that bit better about being dead.
Which is why it's such a fucking shock when the door to the apartment slams open one evening just for Namjoon to slam it closed again and announce into the air, "So I know you're haunting me, please don't try to deny it, I only want to talk to you."
You freeze where you are, halfway through the closet door from where you were reorganizing his clothes because they made no sense and you were bored. He's looking around the apartment, almost desperate in the way he's searching, and you can't bring yourself to move. It's obvious he can't see you, and you aren't even sure if he's being serious, but the way he huffs and clenches his jaw before moving into the kitchen tells you that he probably is.
You follow him, curious, and watch as he pulls a small package out of his bag and starts ripping it open. You float the remains of what looks like gift wrap over to the trashcan, because you know Namjoon will forget, before going back to watching him. He's only a little careful as he cracks something in his hands and then slaps it onto the fridge, and you peek around him to see that it's some kind of words or something. There’s a wide variety, with no clear theme to them, as well as at least one of each letter of the alphabet. It's then you remember the throwaway comment Yoongi made during that night - "You need, like, poetry stuff, like those magnets that go on the fridge that people write that deep shit with, y'know? I'm gonna buy you one," - and realize that he'd followed through on his vow.
"Alright," Namjoon says, leaning against his kitchen counter and staring at the magnets. "First and foremost, am I really being haunted or is this some kind of hallucination?" His gaze never falters, doesn’t ever drift from the magnetic words now spread across his fridge doors. It takes several minutes to build up the energy and the courage to move closer to the fridge.
You don't look at him as you move the words around, but you can hear the sharp intake of breath. That's likely all the confirmation that he needs, but still you clear a spot and let the words ' I am here ' sit where he can see them clearly. You wrinkle your nose, disliking how formal it sounds, but you have to make do, you suppose.
"Okay," Namjoon breathes. "Okay, prove it. My brain could work this into a hallucination. How do I know you're really a ghost?"
"Seriously?" You huff. "What the fuck am I supposed to do that wouldn't work into a hallucination, dude?"
He gets fidgety in the few minutes that you spend wondering how the fuck you're going to prove that you're a real actual ghost to someone who clearly doesn't believe in them. His foot taps at the floor and he scratches at his hand, which only makes you want to wrap your own hands around his until he stops, much like your best friend used to lay her legs across your lap to get you to stop shaking your knee.
The realization comes in a flash, and you're moving letters around before you can stop yourself.
Face book, Park Jihyo, best friend.
Namjoon stares at it for a long while before he brings his phone out of his pocket and begins to tap at the screen. You don't get too close; you've got a history with shorting out electronics, and you aren't sure you want to know what your best friend is up to without you there with her.
"Okay," Namjoon says. "Okay, I've never seen her before, so I don't think my brain could work her into a hallucination. Okay. Alright. I'm being haunted. This is fine."
"Calm down, I'm haunting the apartment, not you." He doesn't react to your words, as usual, but it still makes you feel the slightest bit better. He stares at his phone for a little longer, and the curiosity burns under your skin, but you resist. You know from experience that if you try to get too close, his phone will stop working. Just like TV, the stereo, the laptops, everything. You've had enough experience with that kind of thing to know what will happen.
"Okay, Casper," Namjoon huffs out after several minutes of waiting. He looks up and his eyes dart around the apartment, and you wonder if he's just nervous or if he's trying to spot you. "Where are you right now? Can you make yourself visible? I mean, I know you're a ghost, but it feels rude not talking to you to your face."
You huff a laugh but reach for a coffee cup. You know you can't just make yourself visible at will; you've only done it a couple of times, to your knowledge, and none of them have been on purpose. It's even more difficult to make yourself corporeal and physical, harder than just manipulating objects, but you did it once. Back when the single mom still lived here, when her toddler was falling and you had no way to cushion the fall except with your own body; you still aren't sure how it happened, but you remember being able to feel the floor against your back and the warmth of the baby on top of you for a split second before you were gone again. You won't forget that any time soon.
You float the mug towards where you stand, holding it in front of your face long enough that when you pull it away, Namjoon's eyes don't follow it. It's a strange feeling; you know he can't see you, can tell by the way his brow furrows and his eyes slide around the space, but it feels like he's looking straight at you. It feels like you're being seen for the first time since you died.
"So, where are you from, Casper?" His tone is forcibly conversational, as if he's trying his best to keep himself calm. You roll your eyes and move the magnets to show ' here ' and he nods. "You're not gonna try to possess me, or kill me, or run me off, are you? No offense or anything. I figure you would've already at this point, but...cover my bases."
No. Am nice. I think.
"You think? You don't know if you're a nice ghost?"
Does anyone truly know if they are nice? You frown, trying to figure out how to say what you want to say with the limited words available. I can only try. It's still not perfect; there's more that you want to say, more that you want to be heard, but this has to do for now.
"I can accept that. Alright. Just talking to a ghost in my kitchen. Okay. This is totally normal." He rubs a hand over his face, and you're a little impressed. Everyone else that's lived here has freaked when presented with the knowledge that you're a ghost. Namjoon looks very much like his world is exploding, but he doesn't have the same fear and apprehension in his eyes. He's certainly coping better than the single mom.
"Are you the only ghost? Here, I mean, are you the only ghost here?" He breathes a sigh of relief at your 'yes.’ "Can you see other ghosts? Do you know any other ghosts?" The 'don't know, no' that you move around on your fridge seems to unsettle him a little, but there's a curiosity burning behind it that makes your skin tingle.
Can't leave, is what you say next, cutting off whatever question he was about to ask.
"You can't leave at all? The building, or the apartment?"
The second.
"Wow. You're really stuck here?" He looks around the apartment as if seeing it for the first time and sucks in a breath. "What do you do all day?"
Watch. He cocks a brow. You are... You hesitate. The word you need isn't there, everything that comes to you is too poetic or corny for you to actually say, but the weight of his eyes is heavy on your hands. Fun is what you settle on, but it's not right either. 'Interesting' isn't there, nor is 'fascinating' or 'lovely,' and you don't want to scare him off by telling him that part of the reason you watch him so much is that he's so full of life that you feel less dead when he's around.
He laughs at your words though and shakes his head ever so slightly. "Alright, well, I'm gonna shower, so just, don't...watch that?" You squawk at the insinuation that you would, quickly rearranging the letters to spell ' privacy' and making a large angry face out of the rest of the words. He's already turned away, though, and it makes you angrier.
You don't want him thinking that you would peep at him. You already make sure that you're facing the windows when he finishes showering, you've been determined to not be creepy since the day he moved in, and to have him think otherwise is like a slap in the face. You slam the mug against the counter and he startles, turning to gape at it. You carry it to where your words and make-do emoji sit waiting for him to notice them.
"Okay," He says quickly. "Okay, privacy, yeah, got it. You respect my privacy. Appreciated."
"How fucking rude," You mutter as you set the mug back down. You don't adjust the magnets as he disappears into the bathroom. You want him to see them, want him to be reminded of the fact that being dead doesn't mean you don't have basic decency.
You can't get him to shut up now that he knows you're there. He still forgets sometimes, mostly when he's talking to his plants or narrating the way he carefully constructs some origami creation, but more often than not, he's talking to thin air. He spends a lot of time perched on his counter, watching you move magnets around his fridge through the thick lenses of his glasses before he spouts off some other question for you to answer.
He covers the basics first: how old you were when you died, when your birthday is, your favorite color, what you were studying in school, and of course your name, though he insists on calling you Casper. You aren't sure why but you also don't get a chance to question it, because he hits you with more and more questions every day. Sometimes you don't answer because you can't, too limited by the poetry magnets to be able to really converse; sometimes you just don't have the energy to move the magnets around, but those are days are rare. The only times you use the tired magnet are when you find your limbs too heavy to move, weighed down with the memories of what it meant to be alive.
Those are the bad days, but his questions make them just a little easier.
"How do you move around? Do you just float everywhere?" Walking, but different. No weight. Soft.
"How are you able to manipulate things in my world? Are they different from things in your world?" Focus. Takes time. Same.
"Do you sleep at all? Do ghosts dream?" No sleep. Just existing.
"You don't eat, do you? Should I be stocking up on snacks for you?" No. Save your sustenance. "What was the last thing you ate?" Don't remember. "Huh. I hope it was something good." Same.
"Were you ever in a relationship?" Once. A long time before. "Do you miss them?" Not anymore.
"What did you do while you were alive?" School. "Oh, really? Do you remember what you studied?" Boring. Important then, but it made me forget to live. Not important now. Namjoon goes quiet for a long moment after this one, staring out the window at something you can't see. He nods but doesn't ask any more questions, and he reads for the rest of the night.
It only takes a couple of weeks for both you and Namjoon to get tired of standing in his kitchen fucking around on the fridge. His legs get tired and he gets distracted by his thoughts, and you can barely keep up with the rapid-fire questions you get.
So Namjoon buys one of those cheap cookie sheets with the slightest lip at the edge and dumps the magnets on that. He leaves it on the coffee table, usually, there for you to pick up if he asks something but out of the way for when he stretches out to nap lazily in the afternoon sun.
You like the cookie sheet more than the fridge. He watches you as you work out your responses, can see the way you start to move one word before moving another instead; it makes it feel more like a conversation.
It becomes a favorite pass-time of Namjoon's, curling on the couch and putting some sort of music on in the background and just talking to you. A lot of nights his questions stop with a lingering silence from one or both of you; yours because you don't have the ability to share the words running rampant through your mind, and his for reasons still unknown to you. Still, you've missed it. You've missed talking to someone, being heard when you speak, having someone ask how you are at the end of the day.
It's the little things.
"You said you can't leave, right, Casper?" Namjoon's curled up on his couch, tucked into the arm with a blanket thrown over his lap, a mug of something warm in his hands to combat the chill of the season, and some R&B track playing lightly from his phone. You knock your fist against the cookie once - a sign for yes that you'd both agreed on. "So, are you just always here then? You don't go anywhere else?"
"Fuck, how do I explain this?" You mutter. You stare at the magnets in front of you for a long time before rearranging them. Not always. Tired sometimes, disappear.
"Disappear?" He reads. "What do you mean? You just, what, stop existing?"
Don't know, you respond. Only happens when tired. When used too much of me. He hums an acknowledgment, eyes focused on where the cookie sheet sits on the couch between you. You? What entertains you?
"Everything," he answers without hesitation. "I'm trying to work through my stack of books I want to read and finish all the shows I'm interested in, but the guys would have my head if I didn't get out and do things like a normal person."
That's where you leave to?
"Yeah." He sets his mug - now empty - on the coffee table and settles into the blankets. He looks cozy and soft and you would wrap yourself up with him if you could. "I take a lot of walks, and bike rides. I like to see the river, the trees, all the animals that live there. The beach is always fun, I get to see all the crabs and whatnot that wander in and out of the ocean."
"I wish I could go with you," you whisper.
Fun is what you spell on your sheet.
"I guess," he mutters. "It's enjoyable, at least. I'll bring you some souvenirs, or pictures next time."
You let the sheet settle on the couch as he turns the TV on, setting up a drama that he's on recently. He doesn't say anything else for a few hours, waits until the sound of rain hits the windows and stifles the apartment in an otherworldly haze.
"How long have you been dead?" His voice lingers in the air. You've been expecting these questions, and you're honestly impressed he's held them back for as long as he has. That angsty teen hadn't hesitated a single second to start asking you questions.
A while. Years. I think .
"Do you ever get tired of being a ghost?" There's something in his voice that you can't place, something that tells you this is more than just his usual morbid curiosity. Every part of your soul - whatever's left of it, anyway - is screaming at you to lie to him, to tell him that no, being a ghost is great. You've never wished he could hear you more than this moment, when all you want to is wrap your arms around him and ask him why he looks so much older than he is.
Sometimes, you tell him. It is lonely here, and boring. Fun to be unseen, but unable to do much more.
He nods like that makes all the sense in the world to him, and he brings the blanket up around his shoulders. "Do you ever miss your friends, or your family?"
Would you not? He huffs out an unamused chuckle, nodding again.
"Yeah," He says softly. "Yeah, I would. Do you want me to help you check on them? See what they're up to?" The single knock that echoes in the room is deafening to you, filled with a hope that you haven't felt in years. You've never let yourself think about them for long; if you did, you don't think you'd be able to come back from whatever that place is that you disappear to when things become Too Much.
Namjoon pulls his phone closer and starts fiddling with it. He doesn't hesitate when he types in your name, and you feel an emotional blush fill you when you see that he doesn't even have to finish typing for your profile to pop up. You glance at him, the way his brows are furrowed behind his glasses and his tongue pokes into his cheek just a little while he concentrates, and you wonder how many times he's looked at the pictures of you when you were alive. How many times has he scrolled through, reading the words people shared after you were gone, scrolling through the grief and loss to get to the words you posted yourself, the little snippets of your daily life that you would give anything to be able to relive?
"Do I still look like that?" You wonder aloud. As expected, he doesn't react, just continues tapping at his phone.
You two spend the rest of the night like that, each curled at opposite ends of the couch while Namjoon slowly looks up your friends and family and updates you on each of them. Jihyo got married, to someone she'd gone on a date with a few weeks before you passed, and she's apparently trying to start having kids; Your mother and father aren't very active, but they never were. They both share pictures of you when you were a baby each year on your birthday, and more recent photos of you on the anniversary. They have a dog now. It's cute. You wonder if it helps them cope with the loss.
Your other friends are doing well, too; most of them are still figuring out their lives, but it seems like all of them are settling in their skin and finding comfort in who they are. They're out there, navigating the world and doing things they enjoy, meeting new friends and making new memories.
You stand by the window for a long time, cookie sheet of magnetized words pressed against your chest as if you can feel the cool of the metal against your skin, and watch rain drip down the panes as you imagine what your life could have been.
You can always hear Namjoon before you see him. He whistles as he walks down the sidewalk, his small way of letting you know he's on his way back from wherever he's gone that day, and today isn't an exception. Relief sags through you and you move away from the windows, let your fingers trail against the ceramic of the newest succulent he'd bought, and head towards the kitchen. The kettle is turned on and heating a few moments later while you pull a mug down from your cabinet and set it carefully on the counter where Namjoon will see it.
It's a regular routine, for the two of you. He heads out, usually in the early morning after turning on some music or a show for you, and when he comes back, you make sure there's hot water for his tea or cocoa or whatever he feels like drinking that day. The sound of his whistling gets louder the closer he gets, a simple way to let you know he's safe and he's home. You glance through the cabinets and quickly make a note on the fridge that he needs to buy more of his special tea blend soon.
The lock turns and you smile, waiting patiently as Namjoon saunters into the apartment. He sets something down on the kitchen counter just as the kettle starts to scream, and you wait while he pours the water and gets it ready.
"The cherry blossoms bloomed," He says. You grin. "They look great. I got some really nice pictures while I was there, I'll show you tonight. I was thinking we could try to finish Voltron tonight if you want. We'll have to go back an episode though, I think I fell asleep during the last one." You knock once against the counter beside you, and he turns with a wide grin to glance at the spot where you stand.
It's ridiculous for your heart to speed up in your chest, for the hair on the back of your neck to rise, for breath to catch in your throat; you don't have a heartbeat, you don't have breath, you're a shadow of the person you used to be, and yet...
And yet, seeing his dimpled smile focused so naturally on where you are, as if it's just second-nature, is like a breath of fresh air after years underwater. It smells like flowers, like dirt and earth and a new beginning. It feels like you're alive again, and you don't want it to end, but too soon he's turning away to finish steeping the tea. Something lingers in the air for a moment after but it's gone too soon for you to place it.
You both settle on the couch, Namjoon tucking whatever he brought home with him under his arm, between his body and the arm of his ratty old couch. Your cookie sheet is in its place on the coffee table, unneeded at the moment. You can't help the glare that you give it; the things you would give to be able to just speak and be heard are endless.
It rattles a little and you look away.
Namjoon is quiet as the show plays. He doesn't react when you move to turn the oven on, but he does laugh quietly and thank you for it when he goes to put his dinner in. He eats and you don't bother him, though the way he keeps his little package hidden away makes curiosity burn through you. Eventually, once he's eaten and washed his dishes and laughed at the way you rubbed them dry before setting them carefully in their places, he settles back into his blankets and turns on the music he loves so much.
He's got a book balanced in his hands and your cookie sheet rests on the coffee table, and you both just sit like that for a long while, enjoying existing.
"You remember your life, right Casper?" You thump lazily against the wall in response, eyes drawn from where you watch the gloomy sky slowly get lighter with the dawn. He isn't looking at his book anymore; he probably hasn't been for a while, based on the way the pages have migrated around his thumb, too busy staring at the wall across from him. "Do you remember your death?"
You hesitate. You've tiptoed around the subject before. He's always been too afraid to ask directly, and it's too painful for you to offer it freely. You thump against the wall once more, and he nods like he already knew the answer.
"Are they very different?" His glasses are falling down his nose and your fingers itch to push them up. Instead, you reach for your cookie sheet. He makes a sound in the back of his throat when he sees it moving, reaching under him for his package. "I forgot, I got you this. Thought it might be easier."
He sets it down and you slide the contents out of the wrapping easily. Inside is a small dry-erase board, complete with markers and eraser, small things that should be easy for you to manipulate. You beam at him; he can't see it, but you think he might be able to feel it because he perks up and smiles a little.
"You don't have to answer," He adds. "I was just curious to know if being dead is really as different as everyone makes it out to be." You nod and thump once against the board before you uncap a marker and start writing.
It's a bizarre feeling, after so long. The muscles in your hand don't ache, no matter how much you write, and you can't feel the smooth surface of the board under your fingers or the weight of the marker in your palm, but it glides against it cleanly and leaves a thick black streak behind.
It takes you a minute to write everything out, get it worded how you want. Namjoon doesn't interrupt you, just watches the marker move against the board and smiles every time you go to erase something that isn't right. Eventually you show it to him.
There are similarities. I'm still me, I still enjoy TV and music and books. Things are duller now, like there's a filter over them, and it's harder to do things. Like when you're in water, or mud, like that. Resistance.
"Oh," Namjoon replies, "That's not what I expected. It makes sense though I guess." His hand moves against his chest, rubbing lightly as he looks over your words again. "Is there anything you actually like about being a ghost?"
"Well, being invisible is pretty cool," You say, writing the words as you do. "And it's actually really fun being able to walk through walls and stuff, even if I can't go anywhere outside of the apartment."
"I'm sorry you're stuck here," Namjoon says. You startle a little, looking up at him. You think he actually heard you for a split second, but his eyes are locked on where you're writing your words out on the dry erase board.
"Yeah, me too," You tell him. He stares at the board for a long moment, chewing nervously on his bottom lip as he does. "Ask what you want to ask, Joon," You write as you say it.
"How did you die?" He blurts. You sigh and he jumps a little, looking fully at where you sit. You're shocked; you know that sometimes little noises cross over, like when Jin heard you laughing, but it's still rare. You can't figure out how it works, but you want to.
You write for a long time, letters small so they fit on the board. The whole thing is crowded together, looks like one long string of letters instead of the story it is.
There's a lot of violence in this neighborhood. You probably know that by now. People are always getting robbed or mugged or something around here. Someone tried to break into my apartment by banging the door down. It didn't work, luckily, but I got really paranoid afterwards. One night I was cooking, and someone's door slammed really hard. I spilled the water I was boiling, slipped. Blacked out after a while, and when I came to, there were police everywhere. I guess I hit my head harder than I thought, because they carted me away, and I couldn’t follow.
"I'm sorry," Namjoon says softly. "You deserved more time."
Yeah. The universe had a different plan, I guess. He smiles at that, and it settles the anxiety thrumming under your skin. Wouldn't have met you, so I guess that's a bonus. He rolls his eyes at you but he laughs softly, so you consider it a win. You doodle on the board then, simple little designs that don't mean anything beyond being able to see your effect on the world.
Namjoon sucks in a breath beside you and you look up at him. He's always been good about looking towards where you are, doing his best to make eye contact with someone he can't see, but he still always tends to look through you.
Not this time.
This time, electricity sings through the air as your eyes meet his. You don't know how, but you know he can see you. His eyes roam over you, taking in the crumpled sweater you were wearing with the stain you like to think is pasta sauce on the arm, the hair you can't ever really tame, the way you sit cross-legged on his old thread-bare couch with a dry erase board in your hands.
Neither of you moves. He looks torn between fear and amazement, every emotion in between flitting quickly over his features, and you're terrified that if you move, whatever spell that's been cast will fade. It had been so long since you talked to anyone when Namjoon slammed those magnets on the fridge, and the conversation has been a reprieve, but to be seen for the first time in years...
It's invigorating.
Watching Namjoon just look at you is something you won't ever forget, not for as long as you exist in the world. He looks at you like he's memorizing every detail, every hair and wrinkle and pore, and just knowing that he can see you fills you with something new.
"Namjoon...?" You call hesitantly. His eyes fall on your lips.
"Again," He says. Your brows must furrow, maybe you frown, you don't know because it's been so long since you've needed to pay attention to your facial expressions, but he notices your confusion. "Will you say something again?"
Breath you don't have catches in your throat, wraps itself around a heart that doesn't beat, but you smile a little. "I'm glad I met you."
Namjoon smiles. It's big and blinding and knocks everything out of you except for that emotion that's been sitting in your chest since the first time you watched him talk to his plants. You lean forward, and you can tell the exact moment you disappear, because his smile falls and his eyes unfocus. A whimper leaves your throat, but he doesn't react, and that may be the most painful thing that's ever happened to you.
"Can I feel you?" His voice is hushed but the words reverberate in your head. His eyes dart around, looking for any glimpse of you, and your hand trembles as you reach out.
Goosebumps raise on his cheek where your hand touches him and his breath stops for a moment, but he smiles again and leans into the chill. You bring your other hand up to cup his other cheek, your dry erase board lying forgotten on the ground, and Namjoon's eyes flutter closed.
"I think I might love you," You say quietly just before you press your lips to his. He doesn't react to your words, but he lets out a soft sigh at your kiss. Thunder cracks through the apartment, a torrent of rain unleashed on the windows, but you don't move.
The two of you sit like that for hours, until he starts shivering and his nose turns red, like it does when he forgets his scarf on the cold days, and his breath puffs in the air. When you finally pull away from him, he smiles, and the blush on his cheeks has nothing to do with the cold air that makes up your form.
"Yeah," He says softly, voice nearly drowned out by the storm raging outside. "Yeah, I can feel you."
If you expected things to change much after that, you were wrong. At least a little. Namjoon still disappears to go on his walks, you still start the kettle the second his whistles drift up to the apartment. He still asks you a million questions, but they're more normal now. Your favorite music, color, what you wished you'd done with your life, if you've been able to corporealize again recently, what you wanted to watch that night.
"Come on, Casper," Namjoon groans. "I promise you can do it." You huff and he smiles, clearly having heard it. You're tempted to just disappear somewhere, rattle some pipes in the bathroom or the kitchen so he thinks you're in there and leaves you alone, but he smiles at you again and you're weak for that dimple.
You grip the watering can again, doing your best to lift it and manipulate it the way you need to. It's heavy, and something about the metal makes your skin itch, but the more you struggle the more you're able to pour the slightest bit of water where RJ - a giant plant that you don't even know the name of - sits in the corner of the room across from Namjoon's bed. It's the twentieth-something time you've tried this today, and you're ten seconds from just giving up completely, but you can tell this is important to Namjoon.
He's been talking all week, between the late nights where you lay over his blanket-wrapped form and the mornings where he ducks out with a soft goodbye. He's told you everything about his plants that you think he possibly could, teaching you about them and showing you how to care for them. It's interesting, you won't lie, and it's always fun to see him light up when you recall something he's told you, but you're exhausted and every part of you is shaky, and you're more than a little worried of what might happen if you push too far again.
Still, Joon hasn't looked great lately, like he might be getting the flu, and you want to be able to help him with all the things he does in the house. You've already started doing the dishes and folding laundry, since those were the two things he was the absolute worst at, but you feel like you should be doing more.
"Good job, baby, I'm proud of you!" You grunt and let the watering can fall back to the ground with a loud thump that almost definitely has the downstairs neighbors cursing Namjoon's name. "See, and now we're done for the day! C'mon, we can put on Sens8 and cuddle."
He's on the couch before you can stop him, wrapping himself in blankets except for one lone hand that sticks out, expectant. You roll your eyes and sit beside him, close enough that if you had a body you would be cuddling instead of just sitting awkwardly beside him.
You know that this is just going to make your hand all pink and gross, right?
He just smiles when the board flips around to reveal itself and wiggles his fingers. "It's worth it," He says. "I'd rather be pink and gross than never get to hold your hand at all."
You can't even feel my hand, Joon, there's literally no point to this. He huffs and wraps his hand around the marker in your hand, shivering at the chill that runs through him when he does. He grins and gestures down to where the tips of his fingers are already turning red.
"Clearly I can feel it, Casper."
You're glad he can't see you, that you don't have a heart that beats or blood that runs, because if you did, your face would no doubt be red. You have no doubts that Namjoon would tease you about it.
He's quiet as you both watch the show; he makes the odd comment here or there, but his mood seems to have calmed some. When he first got back from whatever place he visited that day, he'd been anxious and jumpy and entirely too on edge.
"Hey, Casper?" He asks quietly. You slide a hand against his cheek to let him know you're there, and he leans into the chill again. "What do you think about me?"
You don't move for several seconds, hand still poised around his cheek.
"Like, your feelings. What are they? Will you tell me?" You knock once on the wall behind the couch. Your hand stays poised over your board for long enough that Namjoon starts to get a little restless. Words refuse to come to you. Every time you start to think you have a way to describe to him what he means to you, they disappear as quick as fog on a summer's afternoon. Frustrated, you let the board fall to the couch and scrawl a quick 'hold on' so he knows you aren't just ignoring him.
It's been weeks since you've seen what you're looking for, your cookie sheet with the word magnets having been basically forgotten in lieu of the more personal and convenient dry-erase board, but right now you know that if words won't come to you, you'll have to go to them.
You finally find it, shoved under several encyclopedias and magazines, and the noise you make is so triumphant that even Namjoon hears it. You curl back up beside him, careful to make sure the blanket is wrapped tight around him, and make sure he can see the words as you move them. It still takes a long time, constantly changing and rearranging and stacking to make sure it conveys the things you need it to convey.
You are like music. A symphony of summer days and peach skies with soft rain. You are a storm in the moonlight. I'm not lonely when I have you pouring around me. You make me feel alive again.
Namjoon is silent for a long time, and you wonder if you've gone too far. It's more poetic than you'd like, too frilly and fancy and emotional than you usually are, but they're the only words you have.
After too long, he exhales. It's heavy and deep and it feels like he's trying to expel more than just air from his body.
"You make me feel alive, too," is all he says, whispered into the softness of his blanket in a voice too small for his long limbs. He shivers, and you hear him choke down a cough, and then he disappears into the bathroom for a long time. When he comes back out, he doesn't say anything, just slides into the mass of blankets on his bed and lays his arm out across the mattress. You spread out across from him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he looks through you and out the window where the rain is letting up.
"Looks like the rainy season is gonna last longer than everyone thought." You slide your hands around one of his large ones and just hold them like that. His eyes sink closed and something like relief stands on his face for a moment before it's gone, swept away by the peace of sleep.
You wonder what it is that he sees when he looks out the window. If it's the plain brick wall and windows of the building next door, or something more.
You aren't sure you want to know.
Namjoon's flu only seems to get worse. He leaves early in the mornings, as if he thinks you might not notice the way he coughs into his scarf just because the sun hasn't risen fully yet. He stays gone most of the days, and even when he apologizes quietly during the twilight when he slinks back in to the sound of the kettle screeching on the stove and his tea already waiting to be steeped, he still doesn't stop.
You've taken to playing blues while he's gone, mostly the old school stuff, digging out the vintage record player he has buried in the closet and setting it up on the coffee table. It’s the only technology you can use without shorting it out. You don’t know why, but it makes you grateful the record collection Namjoon keeps tucked away inside the coffee table that you’ve learned is in fact an actual steamer trunk that he salvaged and restored himself.
The music fills the apartment, distracts you from the oppressive weight of his absence. He knows you wait at the window for him, you told him that back when the two of you were first getting to know each other.
You're so fragile, you had told him. He had laughed at you, quiet and fond, and waited for you to explain further. You're so full of life and breath and possibility, and the world is so big and so dangerous. I'm scared you won't come back.
"Of course I'm going to come back," he told you. You didn't even need to tell him that you're afraid of what being alone might do to you, now that you're so used to his presence. You're being heard again, sometimes even seen, and you don't know if you can go back to the stagnant depression of solitude. "I'll always come back to you."
That was the first time you thought you might love Namjoon. The feeling has only gotten stronger, and now that you wait at the window with your eyes focused on that tiny section of sidewalk you can see at the end of the alley, it threatens to consume you whole.
You wait at the window for hours. You know because you glance at the clock every minute and a half, mocking you with every tick as it hangs limply on the bathroom door. The sun sinks below the horizon, the moon rises to take its place, and they switch again while you wait. The dawn paints the sky in beautiful shades of pink and red and orange and the faintest purple, but you can't appreciate any of it, because you're too anxious.
He could be hurt. He could be gone, and you wouldn't ever know until his friends came to pack his things. He could have left, too; maybe he finally decided that living with a ghost was just too much for him and just ran. Maybe he figured out that you love him, that you would move heaven and earth if it meant he was safe forever if only you could leave this apartment, and it was too much for him.
What if he knows about how you lay beside him every night? How you tuck the blankets tighter around him, cover him in warmth and comfort before settling on top of them and closing your eyes and pretending that you can feel his arm draped over your waist and his breath on the back of your neck. What if he felt you, that night you wandered into the bathroom while he was showering to write on the steam-covered mirror that he needs to buy more eggs soon and got distracted by the way he looked stepping out of the shower? What if he knows your stomach flipped at the long limbs and the hidden muscles and the sheer size of him? What if he knows the real reason you were quiet that night, the way you kept replaying the moment in your mind and wishing you had a body so you could have just touched him, at least.
It's closer to noon than midnight when his whistle echoes up through the window.
"Hey, I'm home," He calls as he enters the empty apartment. You're upset, but you're more filled with relief than anything because at least he's safe and he's here now. He makes a beeline for where the kettle is just starting to whistle, already reaching for the honey and the tea you set out on the counter for him, and you do your best to calm the storm of emotions inside you.
Did you have fun, wherever you were? You ask him, floating the whiteboard in front of his face so he has to acknowledge it.
"Yeah, I did," he responds as he stirs his tea. "Jin invited everyone over for some end of summer thing. I didn't feel too great at the end of it, so I just spent the night there."
Don't party too hard, you might remember how to have fun, you joke. It falls a little flat based on the grim smile Namjoon gives you. Are they gonna come over here again anytime soon? I've missed scaring Hoseok.
He lets out a real laugh at that. "I don't know, maybe. My birthday's coming up, after Jeongguk's, so they could definitely be planning something. I'm heading over to Yoongi's later to help plan for Guk's party. I might stay there tonight, so try not to worry, Casper."
I'll try, you tell him. You both know you'll stand at the window every second he's gone, but you don't want to tell him why. You don't want to tell him that you love him through a dry erase board, or some fancy poetry magnets. It doesn't matter that you may as well have already said so by telling him that he makes you feel alive again; you haven't said the words to him, he hasn't seen 'I love you' in the messy scrawl that is your handwriting on some stupid board, and therefore he doesn't know.
You don't know if you want him to.
He stays gone that night, as he said he might, and reappears the next day to shower and change before he vanishes again. The next time he shows up, he takes a bag with him when he leaves, which only worsens your fears. He stays gone for three days this time, doesn't apologize when he turns up again and just mumbles a soft hello into the air before he makes tea and sags into his couch. He's asleep in seconds, and as much as you want to scream at him, you can't bring yourself to disrupt how peaceful he looks.
When he wakes, he takes a shower and ignores the ' can we talk ' you scrawled in the steam. He packs a bag of fresh clothes and doesn't say goodbye when he leaves, just disappears and leaves you standing at the window with the pail in your hand, caring for the plants he isn't. The slam of the door sounds like nails in a coffin and breaks what little was left of your soul.
He shows back up nearly a week later, and the relief at seeing him again is overridden by the sheer anger at being left in the first place. You don't start the kettle when you hear his whistle, the quiet and hoarse tune of a familiar song barely reaching the window, but there's plenty of noise when he enters.
The cabinet doors are quaking with your fury, the lights flicker and threaten to burst, and Namjoon just leans back against the door. He’s soaked from the storm thundering outside, even his jacket plastered to his skin, and he’s shivering slightly, but you can’t see anything past the rage.
"Where the fuck were you?" You demand; there's no point, it's not like he can hear you, but the way he sighs makes you feel like he can, so you continue anyway. "It's been almost a week, you didn't even think to stop by for ten seconds so I know you're okay? I thought you were dead somewhere, you could've been, like, shot, or something, I don't know, just bleeding out in some ditch, and I wouldn't know! And what about all the plants? I know how to take care of them, sure, but do you know how hard it is for me to do it?"
Namjoon sighs again, the breath catching in his throat and coming out in a cough, but you don't pay much attention to it.
"Why would you act like this, Namjoon? What did I do, is it because of the things I said? Do you not want me to feel like this about you? Because this a damn good way of making sure I don't, I assure you, so by all means, just keep disappearing and leave me alone with the plants you decided to rescue and save!"
His cough gets worse and he just shakes his head, covering his mouth and making his way towards the bathroom.
"If you want me to hate you, it's too fucking late, Joon!" The slam of the bathroom door punctuates your sentence, and you quiet at the sound of continued coughing. You knew his flu was getting worse, but it's never sounded like that. Even when you were alive, you knew that the wet sound that's muffled by the bathroom door isn't what a cough should sound like. The lock of the door clicks, and it shocks you into movement because he's never - never - locked you out of anywhere. He knows it wouldn't stop you, knows it as well as you know that you'd respect that boundary if he set it, and yet here he is, locking you out even as he coughs up what sounds like a lung in the other room.
You hesitate at the door, torn between respecting his boundaries and knowing what’s happening. You want him to trust you, always, and yet you find your hand disappearing through the door before you can stop it. You stand like that for a long moment, just listening to the sounds of his wracking coughs; the sound of a crash echoes through the apartment, though, and you’re through the door completely in the span of a heartbeat.
Nearly everything that had been on the counter is scattered on the ground, Namjoon himself gripping the sides of the toilet as if he would fall apart otherwise. A single glance tells you that the crash happened as he turned from the sink to the toilet, and if his jolting shoulders didn’t tell you why, the sounds of his retching would. That isn’t what fills you with dread though; the disorientation, the vomiting, all of it comes with being sick sometimes, but the red staining the bathroom sink?
That’s not normal, and you know with every part of you that it’s the reason he’s been gone so much.
The temperature in the apartment drops with the sun, but your arms surround Namjoon as best they can. Goosebumps break out on his arms, shivers run down his back, but you don’t move away from him; he doesn’t say anything, just sits there with his forehead pressed against the cool of the porcelain. He stands eventually, ignores the way he passes completely through your body to rinse the sink and brush his teeth.
You let him stay quiet until you’re both on his bed; you’re pressed up against his side and running your hands along his forearms, idly wondering if you would be able to feel his heartbeat if you were alive.
“It’s not...it’s not gonna get better,” He says eventually. “There’s not a cure, just some things to draw it out and give me a little bit longer even if they come with more pain. I go once a week to see if it’s gotten worse, check how much longer I have. It’s why Hobi let me move in here rent-free. He pays the bills, says it’s the least he can do. I wanted to be closer to him anyway, so that’s a bonus, I guess.”
“I’m so sorry, Joon,” you whisper. Your board lies forgotten, somewhere on the couch maybe, you aren’t sure and can’t be bothered to pull yourself away from him long enough to find it. You don’t need it right now, though; he knows what you mean by the way the cold presses against his bicep with your palm.
“I didn’t want you to know.” You’re not exactly surprised at that; you’d figured as much. You just don’t understand his reasoning. “I didn’t want you worrying about me, or anything like that, like the guys do. They always look at me and it’s all they can see. Like they’re already mourning me, even though I’m still here. I didn’t want to feel like that with you.”
“I know,” you say. You don’t, not really. Your own death was sudden, a shock to everyone you knew; you didn’t get the luxury of saying goodbye, didn’t have the burden of knowing you would be gone soon.
The two of you sit in silence for a while, until you can feel Namjoon’s chest quivering under your palm. When you look up, he looks at you, really and truly at you , and he has tears in his eyes.
“I don’t want to die, Casper,” He whispers. You suck in a breath because he can see you, and you don’t even know why, but you don’t want to lose this moment. “I don’t want to leave all of this behind. I don’t want to leave you.”
“It’ll be okay,” you say softly. His brow furrows and a tear slides down his cheek. “I promise you it will be okay, Namjoon. It gets easier, and people remember but they aren’t stuck forever. And I…” You falter, and it takes his eyes meeting yours to make you realize he can hear you. And there’s only one thing you’ve ever needed him to hear.
“I love you,” You tell him. “I love you, and I will never forget you.”
He surges forward, lips meeting yours in a rush of air. You moan at the feeling of him against you, realizing that for the first time since you died, you can feel something under your fingers. His skin is warm against your fingers, his lips soft against your own, and when he reaches up to cup your jaw with his hand, he doesn’t pass through your form. Instead his hand settles heavy against you, and he moves your head to lick into your mouth.
Tears that won’t fall prickle at the back of your eyes and you climb into his lap before he can stop you. He’s still crying so you wipe away the tears before they can fall, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his dimples, his nose, every bit you can reach. A question sits at the back of your mind, and you can see it lingering in his eyes, but neither of you asks it.
“You’re so cold.” His whisper is nearly lost amidst the thunder that shakes the apartment, but it makes you smile a little.
“Warm me up?”
His chest is still quivering with unspoken sobs, but he nods. “Always,” he tells you. “I’m always going to be here.” It doesn’t take long to pry him out of his clothes, takes even less time for him to sink into you. It feels just like it did when you were alive, only magnified; you can feel him hot and warm inside you, can feel the beat of his heart in the firm muscle under your hands. His moans are quiet and hoarse but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
He keeps one hand on your waist and the other on your neck, holding you close enough that he can kiss whenever he wants. “You’re beautiful,” He whispers. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” You just press another kiss to his chapped lips and let him dig his fingers in hard enough that it would bruise if it could. When he’s close to his peak, he stops thrusting, just sits inside you as he grinds your hips down to his, and presses his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” He tells you, lightning casting his shadow across the wall for a brief moment. “I love you, I do, I wish-”
“I know,” you tell him before he can continue. “I know, Namjoon, I know, and I do, too. I love you, too.” He comes a few seconds later, the warm seed soaking into his sheets because it has nowhere to go. His warmth disappears from under your hands and his arms fall to his lap when the only thing holding them up is gone. All you can hear is your quiet sobs mixed with his and the rain against the window, and for the first time since you came back, you really, truly, wish you had died. There’s no point in being a ghost when you can still feel your heart breaking in your chest.
“Casper, are you ever scared?”
It’s the middle of the afternoon. Namjoon is sprawled across the couch wrapped in blankets while Lucifer plays in the background and you doodle aimlessly on your board. You don’t need it as often now; you’ve gotten better at focusing your energy into being heard, though being corporeal still eludes you. You don’t know how you did it that night, but you’re grateful for it.
“Of what?” You ask, looking towards him. He’s not looking at you or watching the show, just staring at the ceiling. He focuses at your words, lifts himself up into a sitting position. A shiver runs through him when his legs move through you, and you settle a weightless hand against his knee out of habit.
“I don’t know,” He replies. “Just...whatever comes next. If there’s something that comes next. Being forgotten. Being stuck here forever.”
You aren’t stupid; you know why he’s asking. The question lingers in the air, colors all of your conversations now, but the truth is that neither of you has the strength to ask it and neither of you knows the answer.
“Sometimes,” You tell him. “Sometimes I wonder what Jihyo is doing, if she ever had a baby like she wanted to. I wonder if my parents are still alive, and what they say if they visit my grave, what they tell me now that I can’t respond to them.”
Namjoon nods like he’s already thought of that, and he probably has.
“Most of the time I try not to focus on it, though. It’s not helpful, it only upsets me, and I don’t…” You trail off, unsure of how to word your thoughts. “I don’t know what might happen if I only focus on the negative. I don’t know anything about what’s true about ghosts and what isn’t beyond that I exist now, and I can’t risk becoming something bad. So I try not to focus on it. It’s easier when you’re here.”
He grins and blows a kiss in your general direction, and you pretend not to notice the blood on his cracked lips. He’s quiet for the rest of the episode of half of another.
“Have you ever seen a light?”
“What?” He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you repeat your question on your board for him.
“A light,” He echoes. “Like, the light.Y’know, the light at the end of the tunnel, ‘don’t go into the light,’ that thing.”
You hesitate at that. You knew what he meant, what he actually wants to know here. He’s easier to read now than he was in the beginning.
You watch him as he watches the space where you sit, curled up beside him on his couch. He can’t see you, of course, but he can see where the board rests in your hands. His gaze is heavier than it was when he first moved in; his cheeks are hollower, skin more gaunt with a grey tint that’s only made worse by the constant rain. The sun is just starting to break through the clouds, a brief reprieve after weeks of the dreary stone-colored clouds. It casts shadows along the walls, reflects off something in the window across the alley, and backlights Namjoon beautifully, casts a halo of light around the brittle brown hair you love.
Once, you tell him. Just once.
“Why didn’t you go to it?”
There are so many things you could tell him, so many different ways to answer such a simple question, but you find yourself lingering on the one thing you know is the ultimate truth.
Because I love you.
September comes with even more rain and a bittersweet atmosphere. Jeongguk spends his birthday at Namjoon’s apartment and then comes back a little over a week later, surrounded by the other guys and carrying enough food to last a few months. You stay curled on the bed, one of the only safe places for you to not mess with anyone or anything. Your board is tucked into the blankets, ready to be used but hidden from view just in case. You watch as Namjoon sits on the couch, tucked between Taehyung and Yoongi with both of them leaning into him as much as possible, Yoongi’s hands wrapped in one of his and Tae’s head on his shoulder.
The other’s aren’t far, leaning against the back of the couch and on beanbags they’d brought with them, all laughing as Hoseok does his best to act out whatever he’d been given in charades. He’s not bad at it - you’ve guessed the last few he’s done - but he is utterly ridiculous in his mannerisms. You know why; it’s the same reason everyone kept smiling when Namjoon refused all of the food he was offered, why Seokjin would crack a terrible joke whenever it got too quiet for too long, why everyone is resolutely ignoring the growing pile of tissues on the table.
It keeps a smile on Namjoon’s face, though, and a laugh in his eyes, and you can’t ever be anything but grateful for that.
Hoseok stumbles, nearly falling and whirling his arms to catch himself before eventually falling anyway. You laugh along with the others, grinning at the way Hobi pouts and rubs at his hip. You’re focused on the way Joon laughs, the way it lights up his face and brightens the entire room, which is why you see it first.
The tickle at the back of his throat quickly becomes a cough, wet and wheezing and enough to make him throw the blankets from his lap and stumble to the bathroom.
You’re there before he is, helping him slide the door closed and locking it behind him as he bends over the toilet again. The six of them are quiet in the main room, speaking in hushed whispers that neither you nor Namjoon wants to hear. You turn the knob on the sink, wetting a towel while you drown out the sound of voices, and letting a hand run over Namjoon’s back.
“I’m okay,” he mutters. You ignore the way his voice shakes, the way his lips are redder than before, the way this happens more often than before. Instead, you just press the damp rag to his neck and watch his eyes close in relief. When he stands and flushes the evidence away, you already have his toothbrush ready and waiting, and you stay as close to him as you can until he takes a deep breath.
“I’m okay,” He repeats. “I’m okay. It’s my birthday, and I’m okay.”
He goes back out with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice, teasing Hoseok about the way he fell and reenacting it, even. When he settles on the couch, he urges the others to continue the game. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Jimin declares that he’s next and pulls something from the bowl on the table.
You know you aren’t the only one that notices the way Namjoon’s eyes linger on the six men around him, but you are the only one that notices the way they also linger on his steamer trunk, the shelf with his books, the TV, the record player, the scrapbook of his life that they all worked on and Taehyung pieced together over the months, the plants on the wall that he had cared for. He looks around his apartment as if he’s looking at it for the last time.
As if he’s already planning who’s going to get what.
He finally asks the question you both have been thinking about, nearly two months later. His breathing comes in ragged pants, his lips stay chapped, and he keeps several blankets around him at all times to try to hide the shaking of his body. Your soft sobs echo through the apartment constantly; while you reheat the tea he doesn’t drink for the millionth time, while you quietly water and prune the plants he’s saved from death the way you wish you could save him, while you sit curled around him as he sleeps, soothing his coughs with quiet whispers.
Night has just begun to fall, the rain of the day turning into a soft drizzle, and you stare at him blankly, unsure how to process what you’ve just heard.
“Do you think I’ll come back?” He asks again, slightly louder. As if you hadn’t heard his shaky voice the first time. It’s not the question that floors you. You’ve been expecting this for weeks, months even. You’ve wondered it yourself as you prepare tea and ignore the sounds of him vomiting blood in the bathroom, as he disappears to the hospital and returns with a worse prognosis than before, as you’ve adjusted to the idea that you are dead and he is dying and you cannot do anything to help him.
You never would have expected the hope that his words carry though.
“Why does it sound like you want to?” You ask. Your voice is clear in the air and you’re glad for it, because this isn’t something you want to talk about through your board.
“Because I do?” His response is delayed and sounds more like a question than a real answer.
“Why?!” You demand.
“Are you serious, Casper?” His brow is furrowed as he sits up and lets the blankets fall away to sit haphazardly off the couch.
“Are you? Joon, why would you want to come back?”
“You’re seriously asking me that question? Why would I not? I’ve got so much I still want to do, I never thought I’d get the chance to after I got the diagnosis and now I might be able to. Why wouldn’t I want that?”
“Because it doesn’t work like that! You don’t get to just wander the world and fuck around, Joon, you’re dead.”
“Yeah, but you can still read and write and everything. I’d have all the time in the world to read the books I want to read, watch the shows I want to watch, write the music and stories and lyrics that I want to write.”
“Yeah, so long as it all stays in this apartment!” The light in the room flickers slightly with the force of your irritation. “You can’t do anything that isn’t in this room, Namjoon, you can’t use any of the electronics, you can’t read a book unless it’s here, you can’t write music unless it’s on actual paper, you can’t do anything.”
“Yeah, and I could make that work. Why are you so upset about this? I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy? You think I’d be happy that you’d be stuck in these four walls forever, too? Why would that make me happy?” Namjoon stands, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.
“Because I’d be with you! We’d be together, forever! Do you not want to be with me?”
“Of course I want to be with you, Joon, but not at the cost of you being stuck here. I don’t want that for anyone, certainly not the man I love.”
“And what if that’s what I want? What if I want to spend the rest of time with you? I’m already spending the rest of my life with you, I’m in love with you, I don’t want to leave you.”
“And I don’t want you to go, but Joon, why would I want you stuck here, too? This isn’t something fun. This isn’t anything that I enjoy.”
“Oh, so you regret it all then?”
“I didn’t say that, I just don’t want you to be stuck in a shitty studio apartment for who knows how long when you can’t fucking do half of the things you love! You wouldn’t go on walks, Namjoon, you wouldn’t go with Guk and Jimin to the movies, you wouldn’t get visits from Hobi, you wouldn’t get to shop with Taehyung or Jin, you wouldn’t get to drag Yoongi away from his thesis or celebrate with them when he finishes it! It’s not like being alive, Namjoon, you’d be dead and alone and in hell!”
“Whatever,” He mutters, shoving his arms into his coat. “Why can’t you understand for one fucking second that it wouldn’t be like that with you? I’d rather be stuck here forever than have to die in some shitty apartment and not even be able to touch the person I love.”
“Why can’t you understand that it’s still death? You’d be dead, Joon, your friends would go to your funeral and disappear from your life, and you’d be stuck staring out that window at that shitty alley for the rest of time. You don’t get it, you don’t how terrible it is to be stuck here and watch life pass you by.”
“Then why the fuck are you still here?” He asks. The door slams behind him before you can answer him, and your scream shakes everything in the room. You just barely catch one of the plants in the kitchen, a brown-potted one with ‘Shooky’ scrawled in Yoongi’s familiar handwriting, before it crashes to the ground. You return it to its place gently and huff another frustrated groan.
You wish you could explain it better, but you know he wouldn’t get it even if you could. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be trapped between four walls and unable to do anything without massive amounts of effort. And he won’t, not unless he experiences it himself.
You’ve already watched him wither away. You’ve watched him become thin and sallow and a shadow of the Namjoon who first moved in, and you don’t know what you would do if he came back. You wouldn’t be alone anymore, of course, and you’d have him here with you, but at what cost? Namjoon was built for cherry blossoms and sunshine and the riverside. He would hate being trapped here even more than you do.
Still, you could have been more understanding of his view. You can admit that even being stuck in a shitty apartment wasn’t so terrible when you had Namjoon there to make you laugh or watch TV or read to you. It may even get better if he turned into a ghost; maybe you could hold his hands in yours, could feel him wrap his arms around you, could press kisses to his skin again.
You move to the window and stand there waiting. It’s not good for him to be out, even if the rain had stopped a few days ago and the forecasters promised it was the end of the downpours. He was still weak, you’d be surprised he even went anywhere to begin with but you know he likes to walk to calm himself down.
You worry for what feels like hours. You can’t focus on anything, not the way the sun starts to set, not the sound of cars passing or the neighbor leaving. You’ve worked yourself into knots by the time you hear his whistle echo up through the streets, nearly lost in the sound of some argument in the alley below you. You catch a brief view of his coat and smile when you see that he’s got some half-dead plant tucked under an arm. There’s the briefest glimpse of what looks like a Ca scrawled onto it, and your heart jumps in your throat.
You make your way to the stove, turning the heat up slightly too high so that it’ll be ready when he comes in. The arguing outside gets louder but you pay it no mind, pulling the honey out and setting it next to his favorite mug. You’re reaching for the tea when you hear something else. It definitely sounds like Namjoon’s voice, but it’s not in the hall or at the door like usual. It’s raised, like he’s yelling at someone, like it was just a while ago when he was fighting with you. A crash startles you and before you can even reach the window to see what’s going on, there’s a deafening bang.
You slam your fist against the window, watch the red mix with dirt, and the kettle isn't that only thing that screams.
“I think that’s the last of it,” Jeongguk says. His voice is scratchy and quiet, but it’s deafening in the silence of the apartment.
“Yeah,” Hoseok replies. His eyes are rimmed with red and his hands shake as he slides the last mug into a box. “Thanks for the help, Guk. I don’t, um.” He sniffles. “I don’t think I could’ve done it myself, y’know?”
“I know,” Jeongguk agrees. They’re quiet again, adjusting the things they’ve boxed and avoiding finishing what they’re doing.
“Oh, can you get that?” You don’t have to look to know what Hoseok is talking about. Jeongguk grunts an affirmation and makes his way over. It’s a strange feeling, having someone pass through you again for the first time since. His hands fly into the air as he tries to lift, clearly not having expected it to weigh anything.
His reflection in the window frowns, and he tries again, tugging on the pot.
“I can’t get it,” He says. “Do you think he glued these things down or something?”
“No,” Hoseok replies as he wanders over as well. “He used to pick them up to re-pot them, remember? And the others came up with no problem.”
“Well it’s stuck or something, you try.”
Hobi takes Jeongguk’s place and pulls hard at the plot, but your grip doesn’t waver. He huffs and disappears. When he returns, he’s got a butter knife in one hand that he does his best to slip under the pot. He tries hard to pry it up, so hard that you almost want to give in. You don’t though.
The knife clatters to the floor with as much force as Hoseok can put behind it, a curse following quickly behind it.
“Fuck it,” Hoseok says. His voice is shaky and you know he’s near tears again. “Just fuck it.”
“But that was-”
“You can try if you want, Guk, but I just-” He chokes back a sob, shaking his head and moving to pick up the boxes he’d set down. “I just can’t, okay?” He disappears out the door in a hurry, and you wish you could follow after him.
Jeongguk looks down at the small plant, with its painted periwinkle pot and soft leaves. He runs a quivering finger over the leaf and sniffles. He doesn’t try to lift it again, just stands and lets his tear soak into the soil.
“I wish you could come back to us,” He whispers. “We thought...we expected more time. It’s not...it’s not really fair, y’know? So if you can hear me, if you can come back to us, please do. Please.”
He turns and leaves, the apartment door slamming behind him like the lid of a casket. Your grip on Mang loosens now that you know no one’s going to try to take it. You’d watched them pack everything else up; you’d let them take the steamer trunk full of records, the shelf full of books and movies, the collection of mugs, the soft blankets, the ratty couch, the rest of the plants he’d cared for so tenderly.
Piece by piece they had packed Namjoon up and walked him out of the apartment, but this was the one piece they couldn’t have. This was his favorite and none of them knew how to care for it like you did, and you had to. You owed it to him. He deserved to come back to at least one familiar thing, never mind that you woke up not even a day later and it’s now been weeks. If there was one thing you wanted him to see when he got back, it was his favorite of his plants.
The sun glares into your eyes from where it shines down on the city. It reflects off something in the window from across the alley, would be blinding if you actually had eyes. You pay it no mind, focused instead on the remains of the broken brown pot down in the alley, the way you’ve pieced them together in your head a thousand times just to trace the word Casper with your eyes. You can almost hear his voice saying it, even now.
You whip around, eyes darting through the empty space of the apartment as your hands tighten around Mang.
All that rests there is empty space, mocking in its loneliness. You remember when he moved in, remember how it felt to test the boundaries of the apartment and wish you were free. The want is still there, to leave and never think of it again, never think of him. You know better, though. You could never escape the memory of him, the way he laughed and smiled and spoke. You could never abandon Mang. Not when he said he’d always come back to you.
You turn back to the window, cursing the sunlight with every other breath. It fades, slowly, into the black of night, before returning again, and again, and again. Days pass, each one feeling like years. Hoseok doesn’t appear to show the apartment, no one comes to collect the small periwinkle pot between your palms, and the ghost of his laugh echoes around you.
The sun blinds you again. You don’t even know how long it’s been, just that you’ve yet to move. Light glints off whatever hangs in the window across the alley. That's when you see it, a vague reflection in the weathered glass of a dimple and a grin, and warmth surrounds you.
“I told you I’d always come back, Casper.”
#namjoon fanfiction#rm fanfiction#bts fanfiction#namjoon smut#namjoon x reader#namjoon angst#rm smut#reader insert#rm angst#rm x reader#namjoon fanfic#rm fanfic#bts fanfic#love yourself collab#ghost reader#clumsy namjoon#unspecified gender reader#bts angst#major character death#fic: forever rain#ddaenggtan
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Don't Love
Pairing: Sirius Black x reader
Word count: 7,392 (Woah)
Warnings: Alochal, smoking, talk of sex.
Request: Hiii! Could I request a Sirius x reader imagine where the reader is like the girl version of Sirius. She wears her own leather jacket, and she’s basically a heartbreaker. Like Sirius, she doesn’t really believe in love, she believes in lust and attraction. Until She meets Sirius and starts falling for him and she’s super confused bc she’s never felt love before and Sirius starts falling for her and he’s confused cus of the same reason and it’s just super cute and fluffy 🥺
A/n: A few things: Number one. I am so incredibly sorry that this took me like 2 weeks to write. I had some pretty shitty crap go down and it just sorta fucked with me and I couldnt write. Number two. This is a little less fluffy than I wanted it to be but it still has a fluff ending. And Number three. To all the people who have sent me requests. I am going to start writing regularly again now so, I will probally have one out at the end of the week and another out around sunday or monday. Thank you so much for you patience.
You had officially decided that there were two types of boys in this world. One would scream and yell at you when they realized you were only in it for one night, while the other would beg for a chance that you were never willing to give.
Conor had opted for the latter.
“Y/n, please” He begged, his eyes were wide and pleading, he was desperate. Desperate for you to stay, he just wanted a chance.
You sighed taking a large swig of your coffee, it was too early for this shit. “Conor how many times am I going to have to tell you, it was a one time thing.” your voice was monotone, as if you were bored, which was quite honestly the case. Have the same conversation over and over again tended to do that to a person.
“Please y/n, I swear you wont regret it. Just one date.” The Huffelpuff begged, he gasped your hand in attempts to gain your attention. He did not succeed.
You let out a stiffened groan, the conversation had become increasingly frustrating, the fact that most of the school was listening in on the exchange of words definitely didn't help. “Conor,” you spoke slowly, praying that he could get the information you were about to give him though his thick skull. “Friday night was fun.” you watched his features brighten, his sky blue eyes filling with momentary hope. “But that's all it was, Friday night and fun, so please leave me alone, you're giving me a headache.”
You heard the gasps and felt the glares, Conor was popular, he was also nice, and from what you heard extremely sweet. So as he slunk away from you head hung, tail between his legs, you could feel a good dozen people glaring daggers into your back.
“Note to self: dont fuck popular people.” You mumbled quietly knowing you would never follow through with the rule.
You looked back down at your eggs rolling your eyes when you heard an all too familiar voice shriek in rage.
You along with everyone else in the hall turned to a furious Marlen Mckinnion who was practically dragging a smirking Sirius Black from his seat.
“You son of a bitch!” She shrieked, tears of fury and sadness leaking from her cheeks.
“Well my mother is a bitch.” He shrugged a cheeky grin pulling his lips apart.
She shrieked again, making you grimace.
You tunned out of her pathetic argument and opted your attention to the book resting at the bottom of your bag. You were about a chapter in before you got sidetracked by Marleens redicoulsly high pitched blubbers.
“How could you!” she sobbed behind you. God she was so loud. “You knew how I felt and you still fucked another girl!”
You weren't sure why but this sentence made you snort. You attempted to muffle the giggles slowly evolving to laughter, but they poured passed your lips like an overflowing sink. Those close to you gave you angered looks, but you didn't care, you received enough of those already. It didn't take long for Marleen, to halt her reckless cries and turned to you with a fiery rage.
She left Black standing where he was, her attention now focused purely on you.
“What do you think is so funny y/l/n?” She hissed tears still sliding down her flushed cheeks, her mascara trying her face into an angry blackened mess.
You snorted once again “I'm sorry.” You wheezed out unable to contain your laughter, “I don't mean to offend you or anything,” You lied not even bothering to trap your giggles anymore. “It's just…” You burst into another fit.
The hall had gone quite, they wanted to see what was going to happen almost as much as you did. “You're telling me you actually believe that he cares what you felt?”
He face flashed with surprise, you heard a few fellow Slytherins and even a couple Ravenclaws let out short bursts of laughter.
“How dare you!” She screamed, her voice shaky, hands bawled at her side.
“Look, it's nothing personal.” You shrugged calmly, "It's just ridiculous for you to overreact every time he sleeps with someone else. What did you expect?" You could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, they were thirsting for chaos, something about the way Marleens face twisted at you words made it seem like there was a strong chance of their thirst being quenched.
"Maybe I expected him to actually give a shit about somebody for once in his miserable life!" She yelled turning around to see the dark haired boy biting his lips to keep in a laugh. "For him to actually love me the way I loved him."
You scoffed rolling your eyes, "You don't actually believe you were in love do you?"
"Of course I do." She hissed back tears still leaking from her blackened eyes, she had now taken a few steps toward you
"Love is bullshit. And if you belive you were actually in love with Black after sucking his dick once, than you just as stupid as you look." You smiled sickly sweet at the girl as she began towards you, her wand suddenly clenched in her right fist.
"You worthless WHORE!" Her voice rang clear through the hall.
You didn't move, you didn't even flinch because the second she raised her wand it was flying from her hand landing in Avery's, who then muttered a spell that froze her feet into the ground.
You sent him a cheeky smile and a wink before gathering your things and standing from your bench. You stood in front of the girl, just out of her reach. She was shrieking and crying and over all just a mess.
"Salazar, your pathetic." You murmured in disgust.
She yelled something at you couldn't understand, not that you cared to, you were pretty sure it involved the words slut and whore multiple times.
"Well I best be off" you smiled, "As said in Shakespeare's Coriolanus, Act 2 Scene one, 'More of your conversation would infect my brain.'" And with that you turned on your heel and left the room, green robes billowing neatly behind you.
A few days past, and as much as you tried to hide it, your world collapsed. Of course this had nothing to do with Marleen or any of her prideful, idiotic friends, this didn't have anything to do with school at all.
It had to deal with your home. You had officially decided that being pure blood sucked. Your whole life had been planned out for you and you didn't want to do even one thing on the pre planned timeline of your life.
The first thing directly after graduation was marriage.
You had been attempting to put this one off the longest, you were definitely not the type to settle down and start a family. In fact the idea made you gag. You didn't even like the commitment of a date, let alone of a marriage certificate.
So when you mother sent you a letter containing a list of names. Your heart sunk to the floor.
The top of the letter read, "My dearest daughter, as you know you are set to be married soon after graduation. Many young men have asked for your hand, me and your father picked the best of the best for you to choose from. I hope all is going well." And then a list of 11 names, some you had never heard of and some, you sat next to during your meals or studied with after class.
The thought of marrying any of them made you feel empty inside. You didn't love any of them and you weren't sure you would ever be able to love any of them.
But you said it yourself, love is bullshit.
This fact didn't stop you from being pushed into a dark hole by your mother's words. She wanted an answer by Christmas break, and hell, you hadn't been able to make a stable decision since you received the letter.
It started with a party after Slytherin beat Hufflepuff in quidditch. That also happened to be the day you were sent a reminder of your impending doom. So alcohol solved all of your problems for a couple hours and you woke up in the bed of a Ravenclaw you didn't recognize.
The next day you had an exam you failed which resulted in a mental breakdown that left you dehydrated with a migraine.
You had downed seven Advils and passed out on your bed by eight.
The next day your headache had progressed, you had taken an absurd amount of medication to ease the pain that day, you ended up in the locker rooms with a Gryffindor beater.
And now here you were already a quarter bottle deep of firewhisky staring at the list of names scrawled neatly on the tear stained parchment gripped tightly in your hand.
You glared down at the grounds so far below you, wondering what it would be like if you just jumped. You wondered who, if anyone, would actually care. You wondered if Marleen and her bitchy friends would laugh, you wondered if, some would say you deserved it. They probably would.
This brought a bubbly giggle to your lips, before the bottle you were holding drowned them.
You glanced back down at the list. So far you had crossed out two names you would never marry even with a wand held to your neck.
One was Lestrange, the other Malfoy. The thought of their hands touching you, lips on yours, made you gag.
You glanced back down at the list circling your current top choice, you would have to do some research on the names you didn't recognize, they must go to a different school.
You brought the cool glass of the bottle back to your lips, sighing slightly at the burning taste it brought with it.
You let a few more tears slide down your cheeks, one dripping lazily off your chin, you watched it disappear into the dark grounds below. For just a second it shimmered in the moonlight appearing to be a drop of pure silver, before it disappeared into the night.
You let out a heart broken sob before letting the stars see the bottom of your bottle.
Just then you heard a short cough.
You turned to see Sirius Black, he was adorned in a pair of black ripped jeans a queen t-shirt matched with his signature black leather jacket.
You glanced down at your own appearance, black skinny jeans, tares in each knee, white t-shirt that read "Fuck Off" in black letters and of course your signature black leather jacket.
He so seemed to be eyeing your appearance. Yiu suspicions were confirmed when he spoke, "I see you've copied my style y/l/n."
"You wish," you laughed, "I'm pretty sure your the one copying my style."
He rolled his eyes before walking to your side and staring down at the shimmering of midnight dew on frosted grass.
"What is Sirius Black doing alone up in the astronomy tower at night?" You asked curiously, offering him your bottle which he took, downing a quick swig, grimacing slightly.
"I could ask you the same." He huffed glancing at you, taking in the wetness of your cheeks and red tinge in your eyes.
"Well I asked first." You pointed out before glancing at him as he brought the bottle back to his lips.
Sirius shrugged passing the liquor back to you. "I guess I just needed some alone time."
"Guess I ruined that, didn't I." You smirked lazily.
"Nah," Sirius sighed waving your comment away with his hand, "I didn't have a fire whiskey anyway." His smile was dopey, his hair drooping in front of his stormy grey eyes.
You let out a giggle, taking another swig from the bottle.
"So why are you up here." He asked teasingly.
You grimaced taking another sip.
Sirius waited for a response for a minute but as he watched you avoid his gaze he realised you weren't going to answer. He sighed sadly, "Come on, you gotta be drowning something with that shit." He motioned to the bottle your lips were closed around.
You chuckled lazily, "Myself I guess."
He let out a snort, something you've never seen him do, you simply assumed it was the alcohol getting to him.
Sirius glanced at your paper and before you could whip the list away he gasped.
"Why is my brother on your list!?" He asked in alarm.
You said nothing feeling tears reach your eyes, the last thing you wanted was someone you barely knew knowing what was slowly tearing you apart.
"And why is his name circled!?"
You cringed tears pricking your eyes, Sirius glanced at you, flushing a bit at your glassy eyes, you weren't one to show emotions, seeing you smile alone was a rare opportunity, that was if you only counted sincere grins, not deadly smirks. But crying, he couldn't recall seeing you crying or hearing of you crying from anyone, he figured that you had about the emotional range of a teaspoon.
But here you were tears sliding solemnly down your cheeks, moonlight causing the drops to shimmer like rare gems.
"Is this some sick kill list or something?"
No response, just tears, leaking silently from your deep y/e/c eyes.
"Because if you mess with him I swear-"
A choked laugh escaped you crimson lips, your tongue swiping some lipstick from them. "I'm not going to hurt you brother." You then handed him the note and turned, your back facing the window you were gazing from and sliding to the floor.
Above you Sirius eyes widened as he read the note left by your mother before processing the list below.
He glanced down at you, your mascara was leaking slightly from the corner of your eyes, your hair was a bit tangled, your hand wrapped around the neck of your bottle as you brought it to your lips, leaving a bit of deep red lipstick on its rim. He recognized the look on your face. It was completely vacant, despite the tears, no emotion lived in your features.
Your eyes blank and staring, mouth a straight line, not turning up or down. Your whole face was simply empty. Sirius remembered seeing that face in his mirror after he received a letter from home. And he knew that you felt how you looked. Empty.
He sighed, sliding to the floor beside you. Your long black nails came to your face furiously wiping at the tears on your cheek, refusing to meet his eye.
"I know this doesn't matter to you but 11 guys wanting to marry you is pretty good." Sirius shrugged attempting to lighten your mood
You emitted what was either a sob or a laugh, he couldn't tell, "There were more, my mom cut out the ones that she didn't think were 'acceptable'" you made air quotes with your hands.
"Damn." The Gryffindor huffed, "What does the circle around Regs name mean?" He asked he didn't want to push you but he had to know. Because for some reason, he didn't want it to mean what he thought it did.
You fidgeted with the end of your jacket, leaning your head back against the rock wall behind you. "He's my top choice." You mumbled, blushing a bit, another thing that Sirius had never seen you do, even when your sex life became everyone's life.
Sirius cringed, feeling dread soak into his bones and fill him to the brim, the idea of the y/h/c in front of him marrying his younger brother made him sick. "W-why?" He stumbled lightly over his words as they seemed to get caught in his throat.
You finally met his eyes, they seemed to swirl with different shades of grey like a hurricane with a black eye.
"I don't know." You voice was rough, sounded like it was a tap away from breaking, "Hes nice, polite, attractive. He's not a complete perv."
Sirius now wore a sly smirk, the corners of his lips curving up neatly, "You think Regulus is attractive?"
You rolled your eyes, "Yes, of course I do, jawline like that don't grow on trees."
Sirius let out a barking laugh, you could feel his shoulder shake beside you.
You exhaled loudly rolling your eyes again before handing the bottle to Sirius. He glanced at the almost empty bottle than back at you eyebrows raised in a silent question.
You shrugged, "High tolerance."
"You know that isn't good right?"
"No Black," you drawled sarcastically, "I'm as stupid as you are."
He smacked his hand to his chest and mimicked a shocked expression you felt your eyes roll instinctively in their sockets.
He dropped the act and chuckled finishing off the bottle with a final swig. "So if you think my brothers hot, where does that leave me?"
"God Black, don't you think your head is big enough already?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Humor me." He smiled pulling out a pack of smokes.
You took a cigarette, holding it out for him to light, "Fine, yes you are extremely attractive."
He flashed a set of pearly straight teeth, the warm orange light from his lighter reflecting from them as he lit the smoke you held out to him.
"How bout me?" You asked after taking a huff and watching as the smoke from your exhale trailed away.
Sirisu hummed in confusion.
"You know, humor me, how attractive am I?" You asked nonchalantly.
Sirius suddenly felt color rise to his cheeks, he hoped you would blame it on the alcohol. The truth was no girls really asked him what he thought. Well that's a lie, they ask if he thought they were pretty all the time. Asked if he thought they were good enough. But never like this. They all cared, they would burst into tears if he answered wrong. They would hate him for an answer and love him for another.
But not you. You didn't care in the slightest. He could have said he would have rather fucked a lizard than you and you would have shrugged and continued with the conversation. And something about that made Sirius flush.
"Well? Don't tell me I'm that bad." You giggled, although your tolerance was high, the alcohol was definitely getting to you.
Sirius quickly gained back his charms, "My dear y/n, trust me you are gorgeous."
"Thank you." You smiled suggestively adding a wink that made Sirius stomach fill with wings.
There was a long pause, the sound of crickets and small frogs chirping faint in your ears. Smoke drifted from the room as a crisp chill filled the air.
Finally Sirius spoke, "So your really gonna marry my brother?"
You cringed at the word marry scratching at your wrist nervously, "I guess so. What other choice do I have?"
"You could leave." Sirius muttered putting out his cigarette on the wall behind him.
"No I can't." You all but whispered.
"Yes you can y/n, no offense but your parents are assholes, you don't need them."
"No Sirius!" You yelled voice loud and echoing off the open room, "I can't." Your voice had dropped once again, your words almost inaudible."I can't." You repeated face once again empty of emotion. He watched in horror as you put your smoke out on your own skin. He could hear it sizzle in protest for just a moment before the small orange glow disappeared.
"Why?" He asked annoyed, "What are you scared?"
"Yes!" You shouted. Sirius' eyes widened in surprise and for a brief moment fear as you turned toward him in anger. "You wanna know why I can't leave? Because last time I tried to leave I almost died!"
Sirius eyes filled with guilt. His annoyed look turning to one of pity.
"You think I haven't tried to leave? I have! The second my mom mentioned marriage I packed my bags! But when my mother and father caught me trying to sneak out they used two of three of the unforgivable curses on me to get me to stay!"
Sirius winced, feeling the pain from far away memories returning to him.
"So I can't leave. They'll kill me. I know they will."
Sirius said nothing. He simply sat staring straight ahead. You expected him to say some inspirational bullshit or just tell you to go for it, but he didn't. He just handed you another cigarette and lit it for you.
Your face had been sucked of all signs emotion except for one tear rolling slowly down you right cheek. It had cooled from the midnight air and now felt like a drop of ice slowly melting down your warm cheeks.
You could feel the alcohol slowly affecting you as if it was finally catching up with you. You could feel the rational parts of yourself drift away and just then it was occurring to you that you had been irrational since the long haired boy walked in. You turned towards him, head fuzzy, stomach buzzing, and he turned to you.
Your eyes locked grey staring into y/e/c as y/e/c stared into grey. You blinked twice, attempting to make a decision. All you could think about was how empty you felt. How much you wanted to feel something. Sirius could do that. He could make you feel something. Something.
Your lips connected with his sloppily, your nose bumping his, as you dropped your smoke, hands connecting with his hair as he fought for dominance in your mouth. You didn't taste anything but fire whiskey and cigarettes, nothing different than what you tasted of. His tongue explored your mouth as Sirius pulled you onto his lap. You felt his hands roam your body enjoying they pressure they held on your hips as his lips passed down your neck. Seconds before your memory fade to black, you remembered thinking how much different Sirius' hands felt on your skin than anyone else.
You woke to a familiar sight. Well by familiar you mean unfamiliar, but unfamiliar had become familiar to you. You could feel a warm arm wrapped around your bare waist, your head pounding behind your eyes as a bare chest pressed to your back.
You could also hear whispers. They were hushed and quick, you could only make out a few words.
"How did he-" a pause of mumbles
"That's so-" more incoherent words, "I mean what about the…" the murmurs sunk to low for your ears to pick up.
You opened your eyes slowly opened, you turned to see three boys who you recognized immediately staring at you. They all flushed realizing you were awake but before they could speak you brought your finger to your mouth.
"Be quiet." You hissed dangerously, wincing at the sudden stab behind your head.
They all nodded slowly, wide eyes trading for confused ones. You slowly slipped from the bed, doing everything in your power to not wake the boy sleeping next to you.
You let out a sigh of relief hearing Sirius snore quietly, something you found yourself thinking was adorable. You turned to see the three boys staring at you in awe, shot them a smirk as you gathered your clothes sliding on your panties and bra. You could feel their eyes follow you around the room, honestly you didn't mind in the slightest.
You turned after grabbing your jeans they were all bright red, James smirking as the other two refused to meet your eye. You felt your lips twitch into a wolfish grin.
"Enjoy it while you can boys, this will be the last time you see it."
James let out a hearty laugh as Peter looked away Remus blushing amazingly red.
"Except you." You pointed at the werewolf "You might see this again." You winked as he sputtered for words.
You slid on your t-shirt snatching your jacket from the ground. "Hopefully I'll see some of you again very soon." you winked, eyes locked with Remus as he grew impossibly warmer.
You then walked promptly from the dorm room, earning a few glances, but you didn't care, you walked swiftly to your own common room, muttering the password and entering. A few first years looked up before whispering to each other. You rolled your eyes heading to your dorm. You were greeted by a pissed off pair of deep brown eyes adorned in yellow robes.
"You said you would study with me this morning!" Harper scrolled you.
"I can still study!" You fought back, calling on to your bed.
"Please." Your friend scoffed, "Your hung over and what ever boy you got back from fucking is going to wake up and look for you."
You laughed, "Please."
"They always look for you because your too pussy to tell them you only wanted to get laid."
"Trust me this guy is not going to look for me." You assured her as you stood rummaging through your things for something to dull the pain in your head.
"They always look." Harper said with a roll of her eyes.
"This guy won't." You promised tossing back some advils you found.
"Is he dead?" She asked sarcastically.
"No."
"Then he'll look for you." She stated matter of factly.
"Look its Sirius Black he's not going to look for anyone." You sighed, and for some reason this realization brought you nothing but pain. The idea of him not caring hurt. But you weren't sure why. It's not like you cared.
"You slept with Black?" Harper gasped.
"Yes" you rolled your eyes, "Half the school has done it, it's not that big of an accomplishment."
Harper let out a magnificent laugh, "That's true. Now come on, if you can study, let's study."
It was in your firm belief that Sirius would not look for you, talk to you or even mention you, but boy did you wish he would. As you walked down to the library you found your self craning your neck to catch a glimpse of his glossy black hair or his dashing grin. But you saw no such thing, he didn't care. You reminded yourself, and neither do you.
You had run into the younger Black brother though. He had greeted you and Harper politely despite the Hufflepuffs half-blood status. He had even carried the books you had been struggling with for you. He walked you to the library sharing a small conversation before heading to breakfast.
"Are you gonna choose him?" Harper asked, "He gives off like a mysterious, proper sorta vibe."
You darkened slightly at the memory of choosing your betrothed, making Harper regret her decision on topics of decisions, mumbling an apology.
You waved her off, "I don't know." Your awnser was honest, you had no fucking clue.
"Well, I think Black is a pretty good choice, he's nice, he's polite, not to mention really hot." She shrugged attempting to lighten the mood.
"Yeah he is." You hummed thinking of a different Black.
Harper didn't miss the distance your eyes held. Something was up with you. Not just the shit with your family but something else.
But before she could ask a booming voice called out your name.
Both girls turned to meet eyes with four boys. Two hanging back slightly as the other two headed straight towards your table.
"They always look." Harper mumbled beside you, but you couldn't hear her over the rushing in your ears. Your heart began to speed as the pair of grey eyes you had looked for this morning shined brightly at you.
"Yes, Black?" You asked casually as if you didn't feel like suddenly throwing up.
"Left quite early this morning." He sneered playfully plopping into the chair next to you.
"Well your snoring woke me." You lied turning back to your work attempting to ignore the pressure his stare held on you.
"Also gave the boys quite a show." He shrugged, "Didn't know you were into Remus."
You ignored Harpers confused glance and Remus' flushing face behind you.
"Please." You scoffed, "We all know I'm flirty by nature."
Sirius felt his heart squeezed, he really didn't mean anything to you. Who cares you didn't mean anything to him. "I guess we do." He huffed feeling suddenly overwhelmly sad. He glanced up at you, your y/h/c hair framing your soft face, y/e/c eyes glinting your pretty pink lips pulled to a lopsided grin. God how he wanted to feel them against his skin again.
"Is there a reason for your visit?" You asked impatiently, not liking the queasy feeling that his presence gave you.
"Oh, umm y-yes." Siriua stumbled on his words. "I have your jacket." He shoved the leather jacket he was holding at you. "I think you have mine."
You flushed, "Oh, sorry, it's in my room. I can go get it I'd you-"
"Its fine." Sirius assured you, placing his hand on your shoulder. The touch felt electric, like a spark that will set off a bomb. Sirius eyes roamed you landing on the dark marks he left on the open skin on your neck. You bathed in crimson when you noticed where his eyes lingered.
"Sirius!" James voice brought him back to reality. The boy removed his hand from your shoulder and snapped his eyes back to your own.
"I'm, I'm sorry." He stuttered scratching the back of his neck.
"It's fine." You smiled weakly.
"So um I'll, I'll just go." He tumbled banging his knee as he stood, he swore as James let out a barking laugh.
"Wait what about your jacket?" Harper called after him.
"Just bring it to me whenever." He spoke hurriedly, he needed to get out of there.
You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding when he exited the room.
Harper looked at your eyebrows raised.
"What?" You asked attempting to turn your attention back to your essay.
"You're blushing." She pointed out, "You never blush."
"I am not blushing." You huffed angrily even though you could feel your face glow.
"Yeah sure." Harper drawled eyeing you skeptically.
"I'm not!" You exclaimed.
"Totally." She said narrowing her eyes.
"Stop saying it like that!" You shouted.
"Like what."
You let out a frustrated whimper grabbing your things and heading for the doors. "I was not blushing!" You added quickly before retreating to your common room, cheeks still burning.
The next week was weird, it was like someone had flipped a switch to make you like everyone else.
Suddenly you became awkward and clumsy, you blushed and stuttered when you were nervous. It was all so strange and awkward and it was all because of him.
Sirius Blafk had done something to you. You didn't know what it was and you did not care for it in the slightest. Every Time you saw him you hated the way you looked. You suddenly began to wonder if your makeup was too dark or if your hair was too messy. When you passed him in the hall, you felt your throat close and your stomach do flips.
In charms you couldn't focus anymore. He was alway right across from you laughing with his friends and playing pranks on Snape. You were now constantly biting your long nails, something you had never done before, you had begun to find your mind wandering subjects you didn't want it to. It was if you had lost all control of your thoughts. And you had.
Sirius found himself in a similar situation. Suddenly your image planted itself into his brain and your voice rang in your ears. He saw you everywhere. The more he tried to get you away from him, the closer you became. He had become moody, everything would make him feel something, every little thing made him fight with an emotion, he wasn't accustomed to so much ... feeling. It was like someone had turned into a fourteen year old girl. It was terrible. To make things worse you were always with someone else, something that made him feel unexplainable fury. Every Time he saw you giggle with Avery or smile at Diggory his heart would clench, pausing slightly before he continued on, his mood soured. To make things worse Regulus never seemed to leave your side. He was carrying your books to class, sitting with you at meals, studying with you in the library. Why did Regulus get to do all that? Why did his little brother get to bathe in the light of your smile so often? That wasn't fair.
The rest of the marauders had noticed the long haired boys sudden mood changes. They had first though he had just had a bad day, but when a day stretched to a week, they had grown concerned. Remus was of course the first to identify the cause, with James lost in emerald eyes, and Peter busy being about as observant as a brick wall, it was pretty much his obligation to do so. He noticed the way Sirius's eyes lingered on you, how he soaked in your form as you passed in the corridor. He saw how Sirius would glare at boys you spoke to, specifically his little brother who seemed to be near you at all times. It didn't take the young werewolf long to put two and two together. Upon his new discovery, he began to pay more and more attention to you.
He noticed how you avoided Sirius at all costs, he saw the way you blushed when Sirius laughed around you. He also caught you staring across the charms room at the long haired boy when he wasn't paying attention. Everything you did confused him. Because while Sirius seemed head over heels, you either hated him or loved him. It was hard to tell.
But it wasn't for Harper. She knew you were in love with the older Black brother the second he walked into that library. You didn't even have to do anything. You simply looked at him and she could tell. It was like some alarm going off in her head, telling her what was up. When Harpet first realized this, she attempted to tell herself that she was wrong, it was silly, you didn't 'love'. But then she watched as you blushed and watched and avoided, and she knew you were deep in it. Harper was terrified to bring it up with you. She knew that in a way you already knew, but if she brought it up, made you truly realize, things could get ugly.
But she couldn't wait any longer. You had to see what was in front of you or you would only get hurt.
So now the burnet Hufflepuff, paced nervously in your dorm waiting for you to come in. She had a plan in her head, but it still didn't change the fact that she was a nervous wreck.
Most people would constantly tease their friend if they believed them to be in love, but with you love wasn't an option, you had obligations, not feelings. In fact, you didn't even believe in love. You treated it like some superstition. It wasn't real to you. Not like she could blame you, you were going to be forced to marry some guy you definitely didn't want to at age 17, your parents the same way, and their parents and their parents and their parents. It was a never ending cycle of loveless life.
Harpers frantic thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump. The girl turned to see you ditching your bag on the floor and huffing to your bed. You fell on to your mattress blankets ripping slightly like someone had tossed a pebble into a smooth lake.
"You okay?" Harper asked cautiously.
You sat up meeting the pair of green eye scanning you in concern. "Marleen is such a bitch." You stated beginning to pick at your nails.
"Can't disagree with that." Harper chuckled, "What she do now?"
"She said I was Sirius 'sloppy seconds' which makes literatly 0 sense. And now she's pinning after him again." You seethed angrily.
"You're in love with him aren't you?"
Harper's plan just crashed through the window.
"What?!" You exclaimed."In love? With who? Black!? Never!"
"Y/n/n, it's not a bad thing to be in love." Harper spoke calmly attempting to soothe your fury.
"I'm not in love! Love is bullshit!" You had how risen from the bed, your hand clenched into fists beside you.
"Y/n I see the way you look at him I'm not blind! You love him! You get all flustered and weird around him, and I know you know what's going on, you just are too scared to admit it."
"I'm not scared of shit. I know who I am and what I feel and I'm going to tell you this one time. I. Don't. Love."
"Everyone loves y/n!" Harper heaved, her eyes desperate for you to understand. How could you not see what was in front of you. But she knew you were blinded by fear. Fear of what most craved.
"What the hell would you know about love?!" Your voice echoed off the stone walls of the small room, reminding Harper of a jail cell.
"Clearly more than you!" She huffed back anger sewn delicately into each word she spoke.
"You will never know more than me you worthless HALFBLOOD!" You spat the last word of your damaging sentence as if it were a bitter taste you were attempting to ride your tongue of.
Harpera eyes flashed with fear. Not fear of some asshole who you had to kick the shot out of, not of Malfoy, not of one of one of the boys who had suddenly become aggressive in there chase after you. But fear oif you. She was afraid of you.
The fear left her eyes and was replaced by fury and disgust in a second. Harper walk straight to you practically shaking with rage and she slapped you across your face. You gasped head turning from the impact of her hand. When you turned back she was already practically out of the door. You felt tears slip from your eyes and you shrunk to the floor clutching your cheek.
It wasn't the pain that hurt. Well it was but it wasn't the pain from the slap. It was the pain that the look in Harpers eyes sent through you. It was the pain from the momentarily fear that ripped through her. It was the pain of you realizing you had just lost your only true friend.
Your body shook with sobs, the force of your tears making breaths hard to gather. Suddenly the door to your dormitory burst open.
"Holy shit y/n/n."
You could hardly hear the voice over the echo of your own sobs. But soon a pair of arms wrapped slowly around you lifting you slowly from the floor. You buried your face into the cloak of the boy who now held you in his arms. You took a sharp breath of alcohol and smoke, with an undertone of chocolate.
(Well fuck I hit the word limit. Click THIS for Ending.)
Taglist
@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @songforhema
#sirius black imagines#sirius black x oc#sirius black x reader#sirius black#sirius black x marlene mckinnon#sirius black x remus lupin#regulus black imagines#regulus black x reader#remus lupin imagines#remus lupin x oc#remus lupin x reader#sirius balck x you#marauders imagines#marauders au#marauders era#marauders roleplay#harry potter imagine#harry potter#harry potter imagines#harry potter au#remus x sirius#remus#draco imagines#draco x reader#draco malfoy imagines#draco x oc#draco malfoy x reader#fred weasley imagines
808 notes
·
View notes
Note
thoughts on alec? since this is mainly a magnus blog i guess i'm curious.
kfjlkfgjd thanks for resending sorry tumblr’s a bitch ily
eh i feel like generally i talk mostly about magnus bc Every Other Blog (not literally obviously but like, in general) talks about Only Alec just like…..24/7
so while i like him fine, he’s like, mostly Magnus’s Love Interest on my blog lghjflgkhjfgh but honestly just generally while i do like him i honestly don’t find him that….interesting, individually, i guess? i mean he’s not quite boring, but he’s not a character i really relate to
so the reason i don’t really write alec-centric stuff is like. 1. i just don’t find him as interesting (although i’ve had a few ideas, they’ll likely never be published thanks to…) 2. Spite
aka the alec stans suck. the Alec Stans™ to be clear, the ones who suck, not everyone who likes alec. but like, yeah
anyway let’s not just talk salt and me being petty, despite alec being not my fave i can afford to answer one (1) ask without my entire blog crumbling down and revealing i’ve been an alec stan this whole time without me even knowing it
ok so alec headcanons i guess
1. alec was a chatty kid. not what you’d think, right? but then like, he was taking care of izzy, bc she’s his baby sister and Protective, and jace wasn’t really the type to listen to him. like, ever. alec would suddenly realize jace hadn’t been listening the whole time pretty much every time he tried to have a conversation with him or talk about things he was interested in, even when he listened when jace talked about his latest crush or whatever he was interested in. alec started abruptly going quiet before his sentence was finished, and jace didn’t seem to notice or was just like oh good you’re finally done talking, here’s what i was gonna say. eventually alec gives up. he still talks to izzy but she’s so little it’s a lot slower paced and he usually pays more attention to her than what he wants to say bc Baby Sister. by the time izzy’s old enough to like, properly, hold a conversation (she is also pretty chatty) alec’s already gone a lot quieter. by the time we see him, he basically doesn’t initiate conversation on things he’s interested in that aren’t work-related. he does still sometimes talk to izzy, but it’s hard to get the words out and get everything sounding right, so he gets annoyed with himself. it doesn’t come as easy anymore.
and not to show my magnus stan roots but magnus is kind of similar, albeit way less clear cut, he tends to ramble and talk a lot about his special interests only to shut himself up when he realizes he’s definitely boring whoever he’s talking to (he isn’t, necessarily, but after enough times being told to shut up when you get excited you believe everyone wants you to shut up.) and then he was trying to keep up the whole classy unaffected stylish “def not an adorkable disaster bi nerd, i am dangerous deadly unaffected lothario man who has never even heard of star trek or whatever” facade, and rambling about whatever interested him didn’t really fit that. so he retreated more into himself, too. he did have his friends to talk to, but catarina is so busy and he doesn’t want to bother her and raphael doesn’t want to hear his foolish old dad ramble on, does he, and ragnor–he’d always put up with magnus’s babble, and listened, but magnus felt like he was boring him and then ragnor was–well.
anyway so to united these, then, they met each other. and it takes a while, but they get comfortable with each other. magnus goes on a long ramble about a potion he’s been trying to get just right and then cuts himself off, embarrassed, and apologizes for probably boring alec, and alec’s like what? no, that was really interesting, i was listening, can you explain the thing with the mandrake root? and magnus is like…oh.. (also side note: magnus is incredibly cute when rambling about things he’s interested in, he waves his hands a lot and his eyes are all excited and warm and he’s so lively, and clearly passionate, that it’s engaging and pulls you in. like a really good professor. and sometimes he starts talking about something way above most people’s heads without realizing how Smart he is, but if you ask him to clarify he’s like, totally non-condescending and explains it in creative and understandable way????? sorry im in love with adhd magnus thanks to someone anyway)
and then vice versa, alec slowly feels more comfortable talking about things that interest him, like a book he’s been reading and how it’s so fucking stupid the heroine went for the “blonde bad boy” when he’s such a dick to her, or whatever, like it starts as an angry rant about something but before he can cut himself off he realizes magnus is listening. like, actually listening. and like, if it’s appropriate, magnus will ask questions, engage in what alec’s talking about, and alec finds himself getting better at putting to words what he means and magnus is never mean about it, always patient and understanding
2. as a kid alec read romance novels. cheesy shitty fun romance novels. especially the ones that are like, written by women (or better, queer people, but that’s later) and aren’t weird? you know what i mean? and he loved them. romance was something young alec dreamed of a lot, even if he tried to ignore how he preferred tall, dark, and handsome to the main character, or the kind man the heroine fell in love with to the heroine herself. he hid trashy romance novels like most teen boys his age (including jace) hid porn magazines or whatever. he eventually maybe found some queer lit, but he didn’t dare to bring those back to the institute, instead choosing to go to the library the few times he had free time to sneak out (aka when he wasn’t working, sleeping, training, or watching izzy and jaces’ backs when they snuck out to clubs and shit.
also: 3. also i stand by the fact that alec wasn’t in denial about being gay. he wasn’t repressed, he knew exactly what he wanted and who he was, he just didn’t think it was possible for him to be with a man and be happy.
4. alec isn’t a sweet innocent baby boy!!!! he’s seen porn, he knows how sex works, he’s masturbated, and honestly i know the show said otherwise but i find it hard to believe he never once fooled around even a little bit. just a little bit. no actual dating? not hard to believe at all. even being a “virgin” despite how outdated and terrible the concept is, not unbelievable. plenty of “normal” people reach college-age without ever having had sex, let alone shadowhunters raised to be demon-fighting soldiers. but like. look. he has the Energy. alec….Alec Fucks. also just something about the whole like, his siblings are always sneaking off to clubs and he follows them to watch their backs (is this canon or just common fanon? i honestly don’t remember) just screams to me hey, he may or may not have made out with an adventurous seelie or a mundane with eyes. or maybe a blowjob or a handjob, who knows. i’m JUST SAYING. i know this isn’t canon but i don’t care. alec lightwood has seen a dick
5. alec is ridiculously protective of people he loves. especially family (both in the sense of literal family like izzy, and family in the sense of “making your own family” like magnus) like he’d kill for them, he’d die for them, he’d live forever for them,
6. alec can and will become immortal for magnus. and not just literally only for magnus, for himself as well–like he doesn’t have to spend the rest of his life being a tool for the clave, he can work for better relations between downworlders and shadowhunters, and like accords that aren’t shitty, and he can be more than just another soldier or even head of the institute, he can be more and have time to actually spend time on himself, like it doesn’t have to be training-work-protect his siblings-sleep-training, and then one day he gets married and has kids and dies. he can actually experience the world, do things he enjoys, spend time with his husband, and most of all, he can spend the rest of his life with magnus bane, the love of his life, his husband, someone he loves so much. he can make sure magnus’s heart doesn’t get broken again by falling in love only to lose him. they get their happy ending, you know???? we stan
7. alec would be a great dad i dont know what to tell you he just would be
8. one of the first kinks alec realized he really had like. with magnus. was office sex. yes im a slut what about it
this is bc he was minding his own business, doing paperwork at his desk, and magnus maybe sent a flirty text and alec was like mm i want to fuck him right now. and then he was staring at his desk thinking mm i want to bend him over this desk, sweep all this paper off the desk and rip off his clothes, take off his panties last and then lick his pussy until he’s begging for me to fuck him then press his chest down against the desk and fuck him until he screams. maybe i could tie his wrists behind his back with a tie. like i’m his boss? oh my god magnus in a secretary outfit. shit. he gets no work done that day. it’s just a rabbit hole of one thought to another until he’s like. sitting there hard and unable to focus on his work bc the mental image of magnus bent over in a skirt over his desk keeps playing his mind and he doesn’t want to do this paperwork he’d much rather be doing his husband.
9. alec loves making out with magnus on the couch like they’re just chilling and watching a movie and cuddling and alec loves to pull magnus into his arms and just make out. like literally not even “this ends in sex and gets hot and heavy” literally just magnus in his arms. and they kiss a lot. it’s soft and warm and relaxing tbh
10. magnus!!! and alec!!! cuddling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! they both love it!!!!!! they’re both lowkey touch-starved!!!!!!
11. alec’s a dom top and that’s that my dudes
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
REPOST DONT REBLOG
FULL NAME. Rosa Sabina Hauley
NICKNAMES & ALIASES. Isabelle, Lily, Abigail, Morgan, Summer, The Snake, The Ghost, The Trash Queen, R.S. Hauley
GENDER. cisgender woman
HEIGHT. 5′6″
AGE. 15 - 38+
SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, Latin, Sumerian, Hebrew, can understand Arabic but can’t speak it conversationally. She can read in and somewhat write in a wide variety languages for magical research and ritualistic practices, can recite important magical documents and texts in dead languages, and given enough time and with enough patience, she can roughly and brokenly translate a large majority of languages and symbols with her academic background & study of linguistics and cultures.
𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !
HAIR COLOR. Deep chestnut brown
EYE COLOR. Hazel brown
SKIN TONE. Fair
BODY TYPE. Slender yet soft bellied
VOICE. Melodic, lilted. Almost sing-song.
DOMINANT HAND. Slightly stronger left, ambidextrous
POSTURE. Meticulously curated ahead of time; carefully planned body language with meanings implied
SCARS. Deep pink scarring under her left breast from a sigil tattoo that started affecting her attempt at a mundane life and was forcibly removed by herself, minor palm scarring from repeated spell casting rituals, likely future scarification symbols.
TATTOOS. Previously had an Ottastafur sigil tattooed to strike fear into her enemies hearts under her left breast, has a black floral piece wrapped around and creeping up her shoulder and a tiny knife on the side of her finger.
BIRTHMARKS. The occasional mole dotting her skin like midnight stars
MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Her eyes. She may blend into a room amongst the crowd with her urban camouflage, but you can feel her eyes on you from a mile away. You can feel yourself being watched, only you don’t know by who. It’s far too easy to get lost in those large calculating depths of hers, impossible to tell if their wildness speaks of naive, wide-eyed innocence and eagerness or cold and calculated cruelty. They’re encapsulating, and you can’t seem to look away.
𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !
PLACE OF BIRTH. Denver (Aurora), Colorado
HOMETOWN. Bennett, Colorado
PARENTS. Thomas Hauley and Lauren (nee Pyror)
SIBLINGS. James and Elizabeth ‘Eli’ Hauley
𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !
OCCUPATION. witch, sex worker, an anthropology/archaeology student & researcher, contractually an agent of hell / working succubus, essentially a mercenary of magic, con artist, thief, briefly both a bank teller & salesman
CURRENT RESIDENCE. In her younger years she lived in a small apartments in varying cities for months at a time. In her mundane university years, she lived in a small manufactured home in a college town while she got her degrees, and in her mid to late thirties and on, she owns a large foreclosed house she’s refurbishing in the woods in an undisclosed location with plenty of closed off rooms for locked off magical objects and ritualistic projects in progress.
CLOSE FRIENDS. She would say her bigger sister if they still had anything left in common. “Close friends” to her means the small handful of contacts she’s collected favors for over the years that have a working number of hers who she doesn’t think actively want her demise. Real human connection with someone she’s not actively trying to get something out of is rare. She doesn’t trust you, she rarely lets people in, and if you’re smart you shouldn’t trust her any farther than you can throw her. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.
RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single, briefly engaged to a badge-heavy police officer in college don’t hold it agaisnt her.
FINANCIAL STATUS. A large amount of maxed out credit cards, but handy enough to use her skills for a surplus of cash when she really needs it. She’s probably banned from a few high stakes casinos across the US, she prefers to live the high life and will do whatever for some petty cash.
DRIVER’S LICENSE. Yeah, she mostly rents cars under multiple of her names.
CRIMINAL RECORD. Officially? Her records pull up prostitution, possession and felony assault. …Unofficially? — What are you, a cop?
VICES. Hard drugs, hard cash, sex, stealing, smoking, hard liquor, lying, cheating, manipulating, breaking the law, pushing the very real, raw magical boundaries of what is allowable in the universe, killing and sending shitty men to hell for more power. Anything she can do to make herself not think about who she is and the fact she’s actively choosing to be a shitty person and has the power to stop but wont is a good idea in her book. We’re all gonna die, why die living a boring and shitty life of work and monotony?
𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual
PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch
PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch
LIBIDO. High
TURN ON’S. Choking, scratching, biting, pushing, pulling. If sex doesn’t actively feel like a fight or power, what’s the point? Surprising her, kissing her neck, having sex under the influence.
TURN OFF’S. Purposely taking advantage of vulnerability, being talked down on.
LOVE LANGUAGE. prefers and is comfortable with physical affection, gets uncomfortable because of the meaningful intensity of words of affirmation (She’s happiest to wrap her body around yours and feel you there with her, to just run her foot down your leg in true affection lazily to show her love, but to hear love from her partners lips makes her uncomfortable only because it means the most to her and she’s not used to it and doesnt know what to do with that affection, she gets to be a big emotional baby to be put on the spot like that.)
RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Hard, intense, fast moving until she gets bored and moves on. Or she puts up a wall and dates them only for the hell of it, for the fun, for a way to pass the time. Usually seen as a target or entertainment, not generally a real human connection because she doesn’t think people will get it, understand her, or even like her if they knew who she really was. Leaving people and burning them before they get the chance to reject her first is the name of the game.
𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !
CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. Blood On My Hands - Danielle Parente
HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Reading up on the research papers on magic by her peers in academia, reading of cultural revelations, having her nose buried in and analyzing and trying to cast spells and rituals in any grimoire she can get her hands on to push the boundaries of magic and personally experience it, hunting down the latest magical relic locations, schmoozing with the rich, pulling cons, and screwing anything that moves.
LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. Left
PHOBIAS. Being just one of a million others - being replaceable, forgettable, a grey face among the many. Being a no one, a nothing, someone easily discarded and tossed to the side, people she loves sacrificing her, abandoning her or leaving her behind
SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. She pulls in with a confident smile and a plan but that starts going to shit and she becomes desperate quickly when called out. She can feign it until things get serious. Up until that point she’s confident and sure of herself.
VULNERABILITIES. No longer fitting in to her own family, her dad not wanting any part of her anymore, her inability to let people in, and people not caring about her or what happens to her, and how she should feel guilty for everything she’s done.
tagged by : stolen from @scouscr
tagging : @whcwashe, @aloneinxthenight, @youstolemycoat, & anyone else who wants to!
1 note
·
View note
Note
98 91 80 79 71 59 58 56 55 50 49 48 46 45 44 43 40 39 38 37 36 3130 28 25 2218 17 14 9 6 5 4 3 1
1. What is you middle name?
Elizabeth
3. When is your birthday?
March 7th 2002
4. What is your zodiac sign?
Pisces but I’m not really into astrology stuff
5. What is your favorite color?
Probably purple or black
6. What’s your lucky number?
7
9. How tall are you?
5 feet and really trying (Doctor’s words not mine)
14. Are you psychic in any way?
Nope, not really into that kind of stuff
17. Who would be your ideal partner?
Oh god Im about to write a romance novel. Someone that sees below the surface and asks questions, someones with a love for history, art music and human creations, someones to talk about space and history with that listens just as much as they talk. Somebody that loves unconditionally and makes me wonder in heavan is real just because there’s an angle lying beside me in the grass. Someone to hold my hand as we walk around the cemetary reading headstones and letting cigarette smoke curl around us. Someone that makes me laugh and cry and feel like everything is going to be alright. Someone that will travel the world with me even if its just within the confinds of our minds. Someone that will see me without a wig and love me just the same. Someone to look at like a god while the stare at the stars. Someone that will look at the night sky and see the same beauty and serenity as I. ……… damn I hate admitting it but I’m a hopeless romantic. I can’t help it I hust want somebody to love
18. Do you want children?
idk
22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?
No but there’s been at least a couple close calls where I almost was cought doing something illegal, I trespass often and can hop a fence in 30 seconds
25. What color socks are you wearing?
One pink, one dark blue
28. What type of music do you like?
I’m really bad at describing generes of music but I guess glam rock, classic punk, classic rock, gothic rock, metal, new wave, deathrock and um disney music and I have a soft spot for cheesey/ shitty pop and anything with guitars. I really love concrete blonde, queen, metallica, david bowie, nirvana, hole, joy division, green day, sex pistols, evelyn evelyn, motly crue, echo and the bunnymen, the smiths. I could go on but um, we would be here all week as I will start gushing about certain songs and artists. I don’t really understand music on any kind of techniacl level but love talking about it as an art form.
30. How many pillows do you sleep with?
1
31. What position do you usually sleep in?
Kinda curled up but sometimes I straightnen out kinda. Idk im normally asleep while sleeping so dont really know
37. Favorite swear word?
Fuck because its versitile
38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?
3 ½ to 4 days, don’t ask
39. Do you have any scars?
Yeah but they don’t really have interesting stories or anything. Ive got a burn on my hand from a hot glue gun
40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?
Doubt it
43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?
I am terrible with accents in every way imagineable
44. Do you have a strong accent?
I don’t think so
45. What is your favorite accent?
46. What is your personality type?
48. Can you curl your tongue?
I am the only person that cannot fun fact
49. Are you an innie or an outie?
innie
50. Left or right handed?
right
55. Most used phrased?
I have no idea, how do you determine something like that
56. Most used word?
Its probably realistically the, it , a or and.
58. Do you have much of an ego?
I try not to
59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?
Suck then bite
71. What makes you nervous?
Everything and nothing. Im chronically nervous so most things make me nervous but its just sort of always there
79. Who was your first real crush?
Can’t remember
80. How many piercings do you have?
One in the left side of my lip, both my ears with just the standard lobe piercing, i used to have the right side of my lip but that one fell out. And I wear a fake nose ring that is sort of extremely stuck so I might as well have my nose done.
91. Do you like your own name?
Sort of. I love the story and history behind my name, the story of my parents choosing it and my mom finding out it was taken from a vampire book. But the actual name itself I’m neutral about, I don’t absolutly love it but I don’t hate it. I view it as both wholey important but also kinda pointless. Its a name that just happens to be mine. A rose by any other name is still a rose and all that
98. Do you have any scars?
Think I already answered this but yeah. Just a few random ones accuired from boring means and me being dumb. I have one scar on my elbow that I noticed in the 4th grade and don’t know the origin or when I got it so I would imagine reasons why it was there. Imagine sledding accidents, falling from trees and animal bites but never knew why it was there.
**************
Woah that was a lot of questions, you now know more information about me than almost anyone I go to school with. thanks for the asks my dude
1 note
·
View note
Text
100 Scariest Movie Moments
Me
Evening, Jalaperilo human!
Jalaperilo
Evening!
just us?
Me
At the moment.
Jalaperilo
cool cool. hope the usual suspects turn up. i could do with a laugh
Me
You too?
Jalaperilo
yup. must be cause its halloween. makes everyone really shitty
even though its the best holiday of the year, apart from pancake day
Me
There we are!
Jalaperilo
yey!
Jalaperilo
If you're interested in horror and havent seen it yet, 'A History of Horror with Mark Gatiss' is a very good series from the BBC
Me
I think I absolutely need to see this.
Jalaperilo
he has a love for hammer horror and its fascinating to watch him go in depth on early horror
Me
Your horror scene fascinates me. You do so much with so little.
Jalaperilo
urgh
Me
As you do.
Jalaperilo
i love the birds
Me
Frightening and plausible.
Birds are loveless beings.
Jalaperilo
they are
Jalaperilo
they threw brids at tippy hendren
Me
Just chucked them.
Jalaperilo
how did this beat out 28 days later?
Me
Gross injustice.
Me
So their eyes are cortical patches, basically.
Jalaperilo
haha. if only shockwave had made something already creepy even fucking scarier
Me
Give him time.
Jalaperilo
please lock him up haha
Me
Oh, Argento films.
Jalaperilo
your fave
Me
Well, maybe you should have been a better kisser.
Jalaperilo
it was really her, she just got bored of pretending he was good
Me
Hah!
Me
How did *this* beat out 28 Days Later?
Jalaperilo
right? weird. its not scary
i love the wizerd of oz
Me
"Those terrible little vests."
Jalaperilo
what is it about british children that other countries think are creepy
all the kids i know are little shits
Me
I've always wondered about that one myself.
Jalaperilo
I wonder if Alien is gonna be on this list, cause that is quite horror like
Me
Do you want me to tell you if it is?
Jalaperilo
sure. i dont think im gonna last the full 3 hours lol
Me
It is.
Jalaperilo
\O/
Me
I didn't expect anyone to! I intended this to be one of those things people can drop in and out of, but no one else is dropping in.
Jalaperilo
cowards
Me
I thought she was going to leave it at "Don't buy a house."
Jalaperilo
hahah
i thought all of the USA was built on indian burial grounds?
Me
True!
Jalaperilo
i love how Bela Lugosi's accent influenced all future instances of dracula
Me
You just can't improve on it.
Jalaperilo
sings is a stupid film
signs*
Me
It has a terrible ending.
Jalaperilo
it just doesnt make sense why the aliens would come to earth
Me
The dimmest aliens in the history of the universe.
Jalaperilo
lol
tony todd!
what a voice
Me
It's a *very* nice voice.
Jalaperilo
urg
WHAT
Me
And this beat out Bees In the Mouth.
Jalaperilo
god people will say anything as a talking head
Me
They don't even show it, like they're properly ashamed for including it.
Jalaperilo
haha. i watched that film multiple times as a kid and it never scared me
Me
The only human horror film I've ever been frightened by is The Brave Little Toaster.
Jalaperilo
understandable
all the cybertronians i follow or seen have expressed a dislike for that film
Me
It's just not necessary.
Jalaperilo
this is the only shyamalan film i like, but my dad did spoil it for me so i knew everything already
Me
And the twist is basically everything.
Jalaperilo
ikr? what a twat
Jalaperilo
reanimator!
my fave of all time!
Me
Isn't that the one where one of the humans sounds eerily like Ratchet?
Jalaperilo
yes! and he messes around injecting green shit into things as well!
Me
Ratchet's no longer allowed to judge me.
Jalaperilo
i think the cat scene should have been the example. the swinging light makes it so much scarier
Me
I don't think that's making love.
Jalaperilo
it still gets me
Me
Although she doesn't seem to be tied down to anything.
Jalaperilo
also her dad's zombie corpse is also in the room
its so messe up but so much fun
Me
Kinky?
Jalaperilo
im kinkshaming
Me
Ooh!
Jalaperilo
i havent seen this film
looks intereszting
Me
I'm very tempted to stream it someday.
Me
I can understand why humans cringe at this one.
Jalaperilo
bones and teeth are awful
blood and guts im fine
Me
That sound would bother me too if I only got one set of teeth.
Me
More teeth.
Jalaperilo
wasnt there a recent story of an old dentist office that was being redeveloped and they found thousands of teeth in the wall?
Me
That's even worse.
Jalaperilo
ikr?
why keep them?
its like you keeping used transistors or something
Me
Exactly. There's no non-horrifying reason for it.
Jalaperilo
whoa! r-word!
Me
But the corpse head was lovemaking. Seems legit.
Jalaperilo
but what could have been the difference!
Me
We'll just never know!
Me
Hello there, Nickel!
Minibot-Nickel
Heya knocky~
Jalaperilo
yo!
Minibot-Nickel
Heya~
Me
I like how the rabbit is the line.
Jalaperilo
animals are where we draw the line. fuck other humans
Me
It's a reasonable line.
Minibot-Nickel
people in animal suits freak me out
Jalaperilo
*insert furry joke*
Minibot-Nickel
*shudders*
Me
There really isn't.
Minibot-Nickel
you know... hearing my tea maker brewing is probably not helping with the scary aspect of the show XD
Jalaperilo
haha
Me
Oh, I like The Vanishing.
Jalaperilo
mark kermode is one of our greatest film critics
he's the only one i'll really listen to
Me
He seems like he knows his scrap.
Minibot-Nickel
*holds out rust sticks* want some?
Me
Thank you!
Jalaperilo
he's incredibly fair in his critiques
Minibot-Nickel
so THAT'S mr. del toro~
Jalaperilo
one for you ko!
Me
Indeed!
Me
That seems short-sighted.
Jalaperilo
the oldies are the best
Me
No arguments here.
Jalaperilo
ok.im tapping out. enjoy the rest of the countdown!
Me
Good night, Jalaperilo human!
Jalaperilo
ill have to look up what number 1 is
Me
It's...a movie, to be sure.
Jalaperilo
good night knockout-cybertronian!
no way!
good night nickle!
Minibot-Nickel
Night, night, jalaperilo-firend~
Me
And he just casually props them up. That won't go wrong.
Minibot-Nickel
This halloween, i want to give myself nightmares~
Me
'Tis the season.
Minibot-Nickel
if this doesn't do it, then i'm gonna watch ghost stories/adventures/hunters tomorrow~
Me
And even if it does!
Minibot-Nickel
i'll drink to that~
Minibot-Nickel
phone just rang and scared the hell out of me
Me
Rude of you, phone.
Minibot-Nickel
on the up side, mun's going swimming tomorrow
Me
He just toddles out the door.
Minibot-Nickel
i'm curious what the hell it was
Me
You're not the only one.
Minibot-Nickel
(red, white, blue, finials and a judgmental stare)
Minibot-Nickel
i've always wanted to see the hills have eyes
Me
It's a rough one.
Minibot-Nickel
oh?
spoilers?
Me
This happens, for starters.
Minibot-Nickel
OAO
Minibot-Nickel
now this sounds fun
Me
That human has a fun job.
Minibot-Nickel
i wonder what would happen if a realistic zombie movie was made?
Me
28 Days Later was fairly realistic.
Minibot-Nickel
oh~ i'll have to look into it.
though i can say with confidence than zombies wouldn't last long in florida
Me
Florida, where no one should ever be.
Minibot-Nickel
the hell state
Minibot-Nickel
what was that one movie about the haunted big rigs who menaced the humans looking for fuel?
Me
That's the one!
Minibot-Nickel
which one? i've seen it, but can't remember the name
Me
Duel?
Minibot-Nickel
oh~ i'll haveta rewatch it
Minibot-Nickel
kill it with fire
Me
Kill it with extra fire.
Me
I think it's fairly obvious he wants to frag him.
And also ruin his life.
Me
No, no. You knew exactly what their relationship was.
Why are humans like this?
Minibot-Nickel
what did i miss?
Me
The Hitcher, the big gay horror road movie.
Also The Fly.
Minibot-Nickel
the big gay horror road?
Minibot-Nickel
children are demons confirmed
Me
Human ones especially.
And yes, The Hitcher's a very twisted romance.
Minibot-Nickel
human children.... why do they exist?
Minibot-Nickel
one nearly busted my audials...
Me
How did that happen?
Minibot-Nickel
teen sex SHOULD be met with carnage
and i think the kid didn't get a sweet they wanted at a checkout line
Me
I do love that movie.
Minibot-Nickel
if ya wanna do a movie night one day, i'll make the sweets and some high grade drinks~
Me
Sounds lovely!
Minibot-Nickel
it'll be so great~
Minibot-Nickel
i wanna see this
Me
I like the title.
Minibot-Nickel
that guy has an unfortunate last name
Me
Which one?
Minibot-Nickel
rockoff
Me
Hah.
Me
Well, good luck, kids!
Minibot-Nickel
*chinhands*
Me
HAH!
Today
Me
Who sleeps with a single light shining on their face?
Minibot-Nickel
no one sane
Me
Nothing of value was lost.
Me
HERE WE ARE!
Minibot-Nickel
i bet you anything, soundwave'd do that XD
Me
I'd believe it.
Minibot-Nickel
vos did that to me once and i couldn't sleep for a week after
Me
Oh, yes, yes, this is what I love.
Best of movies, best of humans.
Minibot-Nickel
humans really have a wide variety of ways to kill each other
Me
Well, so do we.
Minibot-Nickel
true.
very true
Me
Astrotrain?
Minibot-Nickel
astrotrain?
Me
"Lie down and the devil will come have sex with you."
Minibot-Nickel
did astro fuck unicron?
Minibot-Nickel
we're at jacobs ladder
Me
I think so?
Me
There we are. Apologies for that.
Minibot-Nickel
it's no prob~
Minibot-Nickel
"torture is love"
the djd's motto
Me
I see why you're so popular throughout the multiverse.
Minibot-Nickel
believe it or not, but i got the hell out of dodge
Me
Really!
Minibot-Nickel
yup. i'm a free range medic now. the others are either smeared or atomic dust now
Me
Worse things to be than a free range medic.
Minibot-Nickel
true. might open up a bakery
Me
Ooh!
Minibot-Nickel
yep~
roll out the sweets~
Me
The noblest profession.
Minibot-Nickel
and of course, in the back room come the medicinal sweets~
Minibot-Nickel
i have an uncle named damien
Me
It's a nice name, honestly.
Minibot-Nickel
scream sounds funny
Me
You know, I've never seen it! But it does.
Me
This one *technically* has eye business, heads up.
Minibot-Nickel
wanna wait for it to buffer for a bit?
Me
But no damage to the eyeball itself, if that makes a difference.
Minibot-Nickel
i wanna see this so bad
Me
It's a good one.
Minibot-Nickel
love the pun you made earlier
Me
Not the eyeballs. The area around them.
Me
I do my best.
Minibot-Nickel
oooooo top ten~
Me
Starscream, hello! You're just in time for the final stretch.
Minibot-Nickel
hello screamy~
Starscreamapillar
Excellent. I was hoping to not miss the whole stream.
Me
Sproing.
Starscreamapillar
The scariest thing in the world is the neighbours. Not inaccurate...
Me
Not at all.
Minibot-Nickel
(i was too oblivious to notice highschool hell XD)
Minibot-Nickel
there's nothing more frightening than an expert weilding powertools
Starscreamapillar
You mean a medic?
Me
I was about to say, I take offense.
Me
Look at that rowdy old man go.
Starscreamapillar
These descriptions, without having actually seen the movie in full, make it sound very bizarre, but not scary.
Me
I found it bizarre, but not all that scary.
Me
Why would you follow a sound? Ever?
Starscreamapillar
Why would you follow that sound, in particular?
Me
Natural selection, presumably.
Starscreamapillar
That is not the best way to stab someone.
Me
Just wave the knife around and see what happens.
Starscreamapillar
Also not how to correctly fall down the stairs.
Me
Poor marks, stairs human. Go back and do it right.
Starscreamapillar
Dull surprise.
Me
Except for that.
Minibot-Nickel
XDDD
Me
Good for the mother. She's living her best afterlife.
Minibot-Nickel
it's what i wanna do in the afterlife
Starscreamapillar
Space crackers. They contain more sodium than earth crackers.
Me
And more space.
Minibot-Nickel
OAAAAAAOOOO
Starscreamapillar
They really think that a fish is the scariest?
Me
They thought Willy Wonky's boat ride was worse than 28 Days Later.
Starscreamapillar
. . . This list seems highly flawed.
Me
Maybe that was their logic. Give the first place to something no one would agree with as the scariest.
Me
Oh, no! A shark is doing shark things in the only place on Earth a shark lives!
Starscreamapillar
The horror!
Me
"But statistically speaking, almost surely won't!"
Me
Alright! It's late, but just one more for the road.
Starscreamapillar
Excellent.
Minibot-Nickel
one more three hour movie thing?
Me
Yes, Nickel. One more three hour movie thing.
Me
Still scarier than Jaws.
Starscreamapillar
It truly was, David S. Pumpkins.
Minibot-Nickel
true
Starscreamapillar
Absolutely.
Me
Well, on THAT note, I'm off into the dark to see what made our power glitch.
Where nothing can possibly go wrong.
Starscreamapillar
Try not to be eaten by scraplets.
Minibot-Nickel
i'm gonna ty to not murder the neighbors~ they have their music blaring. it's midnight
Me
Just make sure to dissolve the spark chambers.
Good night, everyone! So glad you could make it!
Starscreamapillar
Good night, and thank you for the nonsense, even if I missed most of it.
Minibot-Nickel
*hugs the knocky and screamy*
Me
You caught the choicest part.
1 note
·
View note
Note
I just read your ask thing about Izaya and I'm super interested in what you had to say about Izaya in fanfiction! I'm not sure if you've written fanfic and if you have please point me to it, but if not do you have any how would you write him? Any ideas you're willing to share?
Oh, hey! That was really kind of you, to have an interest on that! First of all, no, I dont write fanfic. English is not my native language and I’m pretty awkward at it. =/
But I think you basically asked me if I had Izaya headcanons and how I would write him and here they go!
- Izaya probably has read Russian literature, since he needed some use for that language other than to throw small provocations at Simon. He can probably talk really seriously about Russian Literature, the literary divergences that stems from it, the philosophy imbued on it. Its a heavy subject, full of contradictions and I can see Izaya having a fun time with it. Folks, Russian literature is The Real Shit, I know very little about it but its fun. (and depressing but ya know thats a whole other thing)
- I really, really love all of the potential that Izaya has with his little sisters, like??? It used to surprised me how little of it was explored on fandom and mostly on fanfics. I understand that everybody has their little headcanons about that, but I have no doubt those are siblings who deeply hurted each other and, yet, still profoundly love each other.
- Think about Orihara Twins sticking their noses on Shizuo/Izaya’s relationship. Think about them asking out loud Completely Innapropriate Questions, like “So did you guys had sex yet?? Kuru-nee and I were talking, right Kuru-nee?? And we got to the conclusion Shizuo-san definitely needs to get laid” and making Izaya Want To Jump from the window.
- LIke, my take is that he tries, but he cant mantain his composure At All in front of them and thats why I think they would have so much potential. I think this is why they lack scenes on canon; we inevitably learn too much about Izaya everytime the Orihara Siblings interact. Sad this isnt explored on fanfics, regardless of the plot.
- Its canon that he cares deeply about them and its canons he also cares about Shinra. And its not like this kind of thing isnt explored on fanfics, but??? Its always like “Izaya is so bitter and lonely, he’s trash hahahaha”, for once I would like to see or read some situation in which Shinra and Izaya would confront each other about the shitty friends they were for each other, and with the admission that Shinra is Absolute Trash too. And like, it doesnt have to be emotional. Just a step on their mutual character development.
- Guys I love Shinra but he is. He is Trash on Izaya’s level. Super weird this is never adressed too?? Narita himself indirectly addresses a bunch of times, but playing with the fact is Shinra’s relationship to Celty that makes him so likeable. But Shinra would be Just As Lonely if it wasnt for Celty (People werent on that hot pot because they were friends with thim, my buddy. LIke, how come??)
- And Izaya and Shinra would be, you know, rational about it?? And sarcastic little shits but they wouldnt get emotional over it. This is interesting too, their unspoken camaraderie.I really would like to read they being able to slowly rely on each other.
- People usually ignore the DRRR!! Characters background as, ya know, japanese people that live in Ikebukuro, and they forget they can talk about this?? Not talking about traditional aspects, of course. Just…
- Is Izaya good at arcade games?? If Shizuo and Izaya are together, whos better at videogames and at getting prizes out of the claw crane machines?? (We see Chikage and his girlfriends having a scene close to one of those stores, at some point in the novels) Who get super competitive playing silly nintendo games?? (Both, its both of them). Which one of them reads mangas the most, and buys it every week?? Who are their favorite characters?? Do they have a favorite series, a favorite TV Show?? (We know Celty has fave tv shows, as an example) How come Ive never read a fanfic in which Kadota, Chikage, Shinra, Shizuo and Izaya embarass themselves at the Karaoke?? How would an Actual Date between Shizuo and Izaya be, in Ikebukuro?? Why must you people fail me like this??
- And since we’re at it, give me established domestic Shizaya; who does the laundry, who makes tea?? It doesnt have to be boring, with them it never is. Would they have a cat?? How would they name it?? Would they fight about having the cat and naming it?? The answer is yes.
- I can see they slowly reaching a routine together, only just having small arguments over every step of the way and that’s where the potential for nice scenes lies, I think.
- Izaya has problems to go to sleep at the right time and Shizuo tries to find a way around fixing that. Shizuo is super shy when the Twins or Celty come to visit, Izaya teases him about it and tries to find a way to make him relax around others. There, we have little conflicts and ways to solve them! And it can be solved with snarky remarks, sarcastic answers, a little dose of sincerity and genuine care for the other, and look! We have a shizaya fanfic that its not a trainwreck.
- They really just need… good dialogue between them. Seriously, that’s all there is.
Second of all, I absolutely admit is very arrogant of me to criticize other people’s writing when I very much… Dont Write. I’m doing this right now since I got this ask, but as an artist I recognize the guts it takes to post your own work out there for the internet to see. Is very assholish of my part to just say I have a problem with it.
But well… I… do…. Its hard to say with which element I have a problem with cuz I honestly believe every plot can work, as long as well-written.
But I think I have a prolem with the whole takes of either “Izaya is trash he sucks LMAO right??” or “Izaya has XXX disorder and his entire live is Pure Misery”.And when it comes to Shizuo is either “Hes brutal and hurtful and makes Izaya’s mental state worse, by never caring about him or treating him right” which honestly just fucking hurts. to read. Or he’s a uncaring friend or a uncaring boyfriend for plots sake in order to make Izaya hurt more like I’m tired, Canon!Shizuo is not an uncaring person, why cant I just have a fic in which they bake cookies with Akane or work out their issues or both!
But if it helps or makes any better I always make a point to leave comments and reviews to fics I like, I am a Good Citizen who leaves reviews! I just…. havent left reviews in a while because its been months Ive ever read any drrr fanfic. if you folks have recs, I’m really happy to hear about it.
#shizaya#durarara!!#orihara izaya#heiwajima shizuo#bad-romance-ships#long post#text heavy#the otp#otp talk#drrr talk#isa talks headcanons
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
I had died every day waiting for you and it scarred me, and you too from what you’ve told me. I’ve loved you for thousands of years and all along I believed I’d find you. The one, the TRUE one. You’re the one I was always searching for by not settling for anything less than love. Like shit, I didn’t know what love was at the time but I went through trial and error figuring out what it wasn’t. I spent countless months to years afraid of settling for anything less than pure magic in such slim hopes to one day find the one with the other half of my heart or die completely alone. I’ve believed there was that ONE in this world of 7 billion with the other half of my soul/heart since I first learned what “love” was and that’s my idea of a fairytale because what are the odds? I was going to find that one or die trying. Because that’s always been the driving force to get me to keep standing, because everything else in this life seems so empty if there’s no one there to speak your language, view the world through the same eyes. Find interests and passion in the perfectly right things. Someone that will never let you feel alone in this full but yet so empty planet. How did you manage to fill all the missing pieces in my heart from the moment I met you. It wasn’t simply hope because that isn’t promised and Personally it would be a disgrace to try to explain the way it felt to meet my 1 in 7 billion with emotions. Because it isn’t a fleeting feeling when you meet the one. It’s a feeling that will never leave. People talk about what’s inevitable but the only thing In this whole life I’ve been 100% sure of is the moment it turned from grey to color. I’ve done almost every drug out there but none could replace the feeling I feel in her presence when she would laugh behind that beautiful voice while saying something along the classy lines of “go fuck yourself” and close in on me reminding me with her brushing touch that comforted me in new weirdly odd fulfilling way like a small healthy meal that fills you up better than a heaping load of junk food can. I’ve never experienced physical comfort like that because I’ve always hated hugs since I can remember. With a look in her eyes that spoke to me in a language only I was built to decipher to read “you are home ” because I’ve come to learn that actions speak louder than words ever will. I can now start to understand looking back, she loved me way more than I realized. Because the whole time its all really up in the air we all know the best moments are the ones that are happening without knowing
Or putting a title on it, and when we met and starting talking a huge sign didn’t appear in the sky saying “YOU FOUND YOUR SOULMATE” that would of made it too easy and it just doesn’t work like that because it would mess up a huge section in the journey and steps of passion we experienced like a game of “poke the bear” okay alyvia did have some bear alpha energy but probably not the best simile but we can just say we’d both been in constant back to back to back “relationships” that were truly nothing ideal to the romance we have had imagined and dreamed of growing up watching lion king and Cinderella, where there’s no cheating, no lieing , no abuse just pure faith and trust and fun in the one who caught their eyes and it was truly a remarkable beautiful story.
Welllll I wanted that faith and trust love story shit since before I could even remember
I was I true romantic inspired by the one and only Taylor swift.
But through the years I just loved and loved and poured every ounce of my faith in a girl and in return I got zilch, given up on, bored of , felt as if I was some freak show for conveying real emotions feelings and care.
So I learned after the third strike out and crying my eyes TF out in my dads basement at 16 after visualizing a whole 30 year plan talking getting married and kids and the house with a girl that barely knows my last name…
Heartbreak hurts when it’s the first pretty girl that you thought was out of your league gives you a chance has a car and even gives you your 2nd kiss and totally just disappears when I thought we were gonna get engaged and be high school sweethearts. This generations majority became to shy away from the high school sweethearts thing so they could just have a free for all “having fun” to find their spouse in college so it’s “less work more fun”
As for me, I wanted my princess. The one that would commit & follow our dreams happily together no questions. It doesn’t have to be that hard right? Just find a pretty girl and be cool enough for her to want to stick around.
I tried that andd I found out I love wayyyy too hard . I would date girls that I didn’t think were all that great but I had hope, like no butterflies in any sense. No connection just a beginner at this “I’ll be your Prince Charming stuff” and I thought every guy just picked girls they saw potential in and they both just grew together from scratch as long as they both agree to commit and work on it it’s gonna go somewhere.
Welp I found out pretty fast i didn’t feel like Prince Charming regardless how hard we worked on the relationship like it was a boat we each took turns working on and both hopped in. anything deserving to be called Romantic was all just for the movies at this point in my life because I would Find myself either bored out of my mind with a girl that I didn’t vibe with In any category expect the fact She was a girl I was a boy. Gave up on the L train it became just a waste of time and was pretty draining.
And on the other side of things I go for a girls just for their looks because I didn’t really understand personality and morals back then so I’d get totally turned inside out by some girls who were totally lost for love because james kissed lainas best friend in 5th grade now she doesn’t trust fuckboys” and hooks up with any male or female that gives her attention that one night and THAT SHIT starts a domino effect of everyone wants to have fun but not get close to anyone so they’re heart won’t get broken, the first few hookups might get hooked but male or female will just move on within the hour or week with someone new because one “just wasn’t feeling it”
I saw this all play out before me before I had ever “Hooked up” (had sex) with a girl and I swore I wasn’t going to be like any of them because I’m a romantic and I’m gonna “fall in love” with the girl I first have sex with like how could I not. So skip the bs I date a girl she’s never had sex just like me. So she’s head over heels for me and I think she’s beautiful but she’s just different, like we gotta different vibe going on internally but since we’re both 8s and we could atleast look romantic together we’re just gonna look like hoes if we breakup and move on to someone else.
Also this is my first real intimate gf that’s on the same energy as me and attraction that I’m not scared of or bored she just looks good and we had an alright when we’d hangout, but my shitty ass friends at the time got it stuck in my brain I had to have sex soon with someone or I’ll be the “loser” so my eyes were on one prize and that’s where I lost my dignity I believe. We ended up getting closer and closer to booking up every time and then finally did, on the floor so my bed wouldn’t squeak with my stepmom upstairs and the door open. It was pathetic.
Felt good for a second but I was pictured it being so much better than, that…
So the people I was hanging out with at the time made fun of me for talking to that girl so what does any 17 year old do trying to have a reputation for a bunch of nobodys that think they can run other people’s lives morals and fantasies by embarrassment.
I break up with her. find a new girl bring her to a kick back and take her upstairs to this old
Guys water bed and have a 8 sec ride looking back it felt like 8 minutes 😂😂 but hell naw it was 8 pumps if that 😂 we go back downstairs and I expect to chill all night with this girl w her on me at the party like she was my date. But naw she hooked up w one person I came with in less than 30 seconds of me coming down stairs with her. That doesn’t feel good either…
Plus one more guy after him…
I had it, I was done feeling with my heart and thought it was time to just feel with my you know what, so since I left my morals on the floor in my basement I would wait for any people I would hangout with to bring a girl around and I’d swoop her up because it had been done to me.
I came to realize some shit doesn’t feel good regardless if there’s a reward with it.
Because now that I’m texting my homies date behind his back that made my conscience eat at me twice as hard and then I got my turn and fell for the girl who was obviously for everybody but i was new so I believed whatever her preying cute face would tell me and get me to do for her. Because this generations relationships became a scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours till we get bored type of deal and you dont want to be caught dead as a hopeless romantic in this fucked up society of hos and manhos or you’re gonna go under and never come back because drinking is a high school over the counter medication for depression or sadness, and if you were cool enough you’d do coke once or twice then three times and shit I’ll do four and five I already came this far anddddd then a gram a night then an ounce and then selling the cocaine and it’s a lot bigger deal than realized and jail happens. Then it’s a spiral of fucking bullshit.
From friends dying of overdoses to getting clamydia to being insecure about what the people at school heard about what happened over the weekend. The people who said They had you forget when your face down in the dirt and they talked you into doing drugs that would start a new chapter of my life
Called love isn’t real ,fuck bitches ,be broke and homeless with three new addictions and no sign or thought of a future because I just want to get fucked up to not feel sad anymore cause of that girl and my I thought all bestfriends/ brothers just did me sideways for the 20th time I was so obvious that some people really aren’t genuine and don’t even know what a real friend is because all they know is the next face is either a liability or an asset. I hate it. I can say I played a part in the dumb shit and wasn’t the true me and looking back now I was very lost and that’s why I decided to start keeping record of the ones who do the things that friends don’t do and mark em off the list regardless of who they were because I was so ready to live a real life with real friends because I’ve only been surrounded by traiters and I’m not buying it anymore, only very strong willed people can become something better then the way they were raised up and the morals that were put in place and I haven’t really met many at all so I just am gonna take the easy route this time and gonna stay away off in my own lane.
I shoulda done it way earlier, coulda learned from j cole 3 times and fuck the peace sign.
I just wanted some friends cause there was no family for me at home regardless of what I did.
Never good enough , got what a thought was a dream girlfriend who was my ride or die for 5 years but did things out of spite to me like hookup with my friends I called brothers literally. I don’t think I ever loved her truthfully she was just really pretty and chill kinda just rode with the good but didn’t have too much of a plan or dreams like I did and that is another sign I should of taken more serious, because one thing I’ve learned is no one ever grows from the way they came so don’t wait for someone to go back to the way they were because it’ll never happen everything In this world is either evolving up or there are things diminishing down if someone has changed the chances of fully restoring them after life experience it’s a absolute 0% unless you have a memory eraser device but even then if there’s a change there’s no way we can go to exactly exactly the way it was, even the world is evolving every moment, so if someone misses the “old you” that was a thought of you just a mere figment of their imagination. Its better if you move to bigger and better things and if you wish for them to be in your life don’t dwell on it too much because if they are good for you and that means they believe in the best you, they’ll take the step forward to initiate the relationship again, but if you’re doing great and they still can’t find the peace of mind to love you exactly for who you are it’s time you get what you’ve always deserved and put your focus forward or your blessing that is twice as worth the time than your backwards or you’re gonna lose them all going back down to who you evolved from!
I finally found closure when she reminded me of my dad. Not on my team and just a boring ass time anytime we’d be together she literally was just pretty and that’s all she was to me, she didn’t know how to entertain or have a relationship, there might of been some downs but if you love someone you adapt to whatever situation conflict and confession then I met this girl who interested me and I spent a lot of time with her but the fact she wasn’t willing to put her pride aside fucked with the relationship, I was used in ways by her and she was caught up in another guy when I confessed that I was really really into her but the sad thing is she just didn’t respect her self enough, and I was on and off with her for a while and she fucked with my heart because it was my first try at something real after a while of being scared of commitment and being totally played by the long term ex, then one night the newer girls friend maya decided to link me with her friend in Denver so we could go to her boyfriends work and we pulled up at her house in bfe Denver to me at the time
And it’s hard to remember all the full details of the night but I remember that I was single for once in my life like actually single and committed to being that
but then I met her…
right now because mine read those words only to her and it feels as if these eyes were made for the sole purpose of .
0 notes
Text
Beginning
So I guess for starters Im gonna say i am probably going to remain anonymous for a while. Also this stuff might get deep and personal so ill change all names. Since freelytinystudentblog is ridiculously long im just going to go but Eve because why not. Im not trying to look for attention posting all this stuff but i need an outlet and what better way to do it than anonymously on a website where it probably wont get read. So if you do happen to stumble onto this page then welcome. Hopefully you wont get bored. I guess its time for me to start with the beging which would be about 3ish years ago when I was a wee little lass and believed that because i was 13 i was basically the shit(which i obvously wasnt). I had moved a total of 3 times which doesnt seem too bad but it was always when i got really attached to people we moved and i never spoke to them again. This time was no different. We moved from one small town to another. Being one of the only mixed kids there besides my brother was surprisingly positive and annoying. Why youre probaly not asking? Well because my hair was everyones interest. A big ball of poof i always threw into a pony tail because honestly there wasnt much else to do with it. Everyone wanted to play with it or see how much stuff i could hide in it. It was fun at first but quickly got annoying. While there was that downside to the town it also had some positives. For example it was there that i realized that i was bisexual. To be honest i never thought about liking girls until my boyfriend at the time and his friend were talking about how they were both Bi and i said it to fit in a little. I didnt actually believe it until i realized the way girls made me felt. How i always caught myself looking at their chests and their butts, and how i fell for my friend Taylor. She was my first offical girl crush. Anyway this is getting a little off topic though it was important. Like i said there were many positives like the cool friends i got to meet, I got into blood in the dance floor and had a little emo phase and met a guy i thought id be with forever. That all sounds good but with all positives comes negatives. I began to get super depressed and even cut a few times. I felt trapped in my relationship with Damien. Whenever we fought hed threaten to kill himself or say stuff like “without you id kill myself” which is a shitty thing to say to someone in my opinion. I started doing things id never do like sneaking my boyfriend over and all that. But the biggest neutral that happened was me losing my virginity. No big deal it seems but i was freshly turned 14 and he was 16. We werent safe there was no protection. I know losing your virginity is supposed to be meaningful but i dont remember it. I wasnt drunk or anything so i dont know why i dont remember it. Anyway a couple weeks later i snuck out and walked around town and ended up having sex again in the graveyeard(insert judgement here) I knew something was wrong soon after. I felt sick so i told him i thought i was pregnant. He paled and asked if i was would i abort it. I instantly said no because i dont believe in abortions. After that night things got weird. Me my mom and my brother went to Tennessee. Driving up the mountains i felt sick to my stomach which i brushed off as carsickness. We get back from our vacation and i started craving the weirdest shit like frozen hot pockets, whole packages of cheese ect. I caught myself randomly thinking about having a baby and got scared. I ended up having my older family friend get me a pregnancy test and surprise surprise i was el prego. I cried for about 5 minuets before shutting down. I didnt know how to feel i was only 14. I called and told Damien that night and he was as shocked as i was. Later on he told me he started crying after we hung up. So a few days later i went home and told mom. She wasnt as mad as i thought she would be. She refused to let me give the baby up for adoption because it was my mistake and i had to live with it. I dont think i couldve done it anyway. No one really understands how attached you get to the little baby inside you. I believe the same day i told the rest of my family. My grandma didnt talk to me for a couple of months. I had an aunt who told me i needed to give it up for adoption because i was gonna ruin the babys life.I had another aunt not let me see my cousin Bri for atleast 6 months which hurt so much. Me and bri are like sisters we’ve been almost inseperable ever since we were little which is funny since shes younger than me. Damien was determined to stay in the babys life and not leave no matter what. Me being pregnant at such a young age wasnt easy. I lost most of my friends and began homeschooling which was terrible. The nine months of me being pregnant was basically filled with me fighting with my boyfriend getting insanely jealous, cheating, and more sex. We shouldve left each other months ago. Looking back i shouldve left sooner. It was a toxic relationship for both of us. 9 months later my baby boy was born. Mister Phoenix. My angel. It was kind of ridiculous damien and i fought even in the hospital. We brought phoenix home and i was hoping the relationshup would get better. It didnt. I caught him sexting his ex and swore to break it off with him. I didnt. I swore to myself i wasnt going to let my baby grow up without a father. In july 2015 we moved 45 minuets away. Damien came on the weekends because my mom picked him up and took him home. That laster all summer until school started and he couldnt anymore. It seemed like us being apart made us fight even more. By november he broke up with me. Now i was 15 and a single mother. I was devasted. I had no one to turn to since i didnt have any friends in my new town. I was alone and began eating my depression away. Every month on the 11th i would sit down and cry. I wasnt in a good state. By 2016 i swore to myself id move on from Damien and become an amazing mother but it was so hard He kept popping in every 3 months or so flirting with me making me fall for him over and over again only to get crushed over and over again. It was a hellish cycle but honestly im glad i went though it. Why you ask? Well simply because every time he left itd give me more reason to stop liking him and even hating him. Now he texts me and i just roll my eyes. Going through that definately helped me move on. He wasnt there for any of the birthdays and i honestly am glad. I understand its my kids father but i grew up with a dad who lived in the same city and still couldnt come see me. I dont want my baby going through that. Once hes older i plan on explaining everything and giving him a choice of whether he wants to get in contact with his father or not. Itll be completely up to him. Now before you start judging me to hard think about this. I became a single parent at 15. The father never visted his son or even asked. Hell this january was the first time he saw phoenix in Two years. Two thats ridiculous. After the very awkward encounter he hasnt bothered asking to see him since. Its hard for people who dont have kids to understand this i know but i know what im doing is for the best. This sunday is going to be his 3rd birthday and his father came up with stupid excuses as usual. Now i know i left out some stuff but some of it is hard to put into words plus if i added anymore itd be unbelievably long. So this was the begining and current i guess. 14 and pregnant. 15 and a single parent. currently almost 18 and still doing it bymyself just a little better. Thats all for now. Ill probably make another one soon about relationships while being a single parent so yeah. Peace.
0 notes
Text
Feeling like I’m having a nervous breakdown
Hey guys so ok this is gonna be a very long post ‘cause I’m having a nervous breakdown and I dont think I can keep going like this.
From where do I start?
I’m listening to “Fuck you” so probably I should start by speaking about Federico. Federico was my ex boyfriend and we were together for about 4 months (you may think it’s not so much time but for me it is). So you know how we broke up? No? Well, me neither. I was just getting very annoyed by his attitude and he gradually stopped asking me to hang out. So one day I called him and he didnt answer. After that day we didnt see each other anymore. That sucks right? No it doesn’t because I am a fucking strange person that can’t prove normal feelings.
I just let it go. That’s the end. And when I see him around the city with his friends, I’m only able to complain about them being all FUCKBOYS!
I FUCKING HATE FUCKBOYS
You wanna know where my hate comes from? All the guys I meet in this fucking city (which is making me wanna throw up so bad) anyway, all the guys just wanna fuck me and I’m fucking fed up! I deserve love and emotions and all those beautiful stuff that you get when someone CARES. I feel like no one cares, so why should I?
I went on a therapy till december, then I had to stop taking ZOLOFT ‘cause it was giving me more anxiety. So I started another therapy. On my own. I started building self-confidence. And now I seriously believe that I’m worthy and that I am unique and that no one can put me down. I SERIOUSLY believe that I’m an amazing creature with all the right stuff in the right place. So where’s the point?
The point is that I’m fed up of being forced to separate sex from emotional commitment: SEX IS EMOTIONAL COMMITMENT, YOU STUPID HYPOCRITES, IF YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE OTHER PERSON IS LIKE YOU’RE MASTURBATING WITH A DOLL YA KNOW.
But that’s not the end of my relationships’story: ever since I lost virginity I only ended up with guys who wanted to have sex without using fucking condoms. That’s thei point of view: OK YOU KNOW GIRL YOU’RE AMAZING BUT I CANT TAKE ON COMMITMENT CAUSE I’VE LOVED TOO MUCH IN MY LIFE SO JUST LET’S HAVING SEX! AH BUT SWEETIE I DONT USE CONDOMS: I CANT FEEL YOUR VAGINA, YA KNOW. BUT DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT: I CAN CONTROL MYSELF!
YOU KNOW WHAT? NO YOU CAN’T CONTROL YOURSELF! NOBODY CAN! Your fucking penis produces seminal stuff even BEFORE and DURING sex!
What about getting sick??????????? Syphilides? HIV??? FUCK YOU ALL!
This year I had to take 3 (THREE) day-after-pills... Which is like killing your uterus.... I was stupid but what else could I do? Ya... maybe being more conscious and force them to use condoms... But you know, when you fucking hate yourself you don’t care much about future and consequences... You’re just not able to think critically. You do the bad things, you choose bad.
All I thought about ever since a while was being high...
So now we get to another big point of this overwhelming situation: PARENTS... Ya it seems like I got the perfect family: mum’s lawyer, dad’s a doctor... What could be wrong with ita? Just another bored girl complaining about not getting enough attention. NO
I mean, I’m aware of the fact that my life is not SERIOUSLY bad, but anyways: my parents are divorced, my dad is still a fuckboy. He got used to living alone so he does whatever he wanna do, he goes wherever and whenever, without caring about two daughters’ real problems. What if my mum wants to leave for a weekend and leave my little sister with him? She couldnt because “HE’S GOT PROGRAMS”. FUCK I GOT A PROGRAM TOO: I WANNA GETAWAY FROM HERE RIGHT NOW!
Anyway there we get to the other big problem: MY MUM... She’s been developping anorexia’s mentality since a couple ago, she doesn’t eat (like 1 coffee and half of a zucchini during all day, when she gets really depressed)... Oh, depression... Ya, a single mum with two problematic daughters, a private career (which is falling into pieces) and other shitty problems CAN GET DEPRESSION. It’s easy, though... But the bigger matter is that she denies it and she gets worse everyday ‘cause her situation gets worse (my grandma is sick, one of my mum’s best friends got cancer and she cant sleep because of worrying too much)... And when I told my father, he said I was wrong after she immediately denied.
Ah, my little sister gets mad with me when I tell my mother to eat. She’s like: “stop telling her what to do she’s an adult, she can take care of herself”
FUCK NO SHE CANT STOP SAYING THAT! SHE’D DIE IN A COUPLE OF MONTHS! SHE SUFFERS OF HEART RATING PROBLEMS! IF SHE DOESNT EAT AND KEEP GOING THIS HARD ON THINGS SHE WILL DIE! FUCK YOU STUPID TEENAGE GIRL
So I’m under pressure. I’M UNDER PRESSURE OK! MY MOM IS NOT ABLE TO GROW MY SISTER UP LIKE SHE DID WITH ME! SHE DOESN’T GET ANY RULE! I DON’T GET ANY RULE! Ok I’m 18 so I can understand when it’s time to stop a little back but SHE CAN’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHEN IT’S TIME TO TIDY UP HER BEDROOM! She never does it cause nobody tells her! Nobody ever told her! And that’s a stupid example.
Ok, so I’m 18 right? And I got no rules ok? Yeah... cool... I can avoid sleeping, eating and going back home and living properly... I got sick for a week this summer and had to stop smoking.. But then I got better and kept smoking and drinking. Yeah maybe it’s not because I got no rules but because I like it and because it’s the only way to have fun and enjoy your time out in this fucking deserted city full of fucking bastards.
Maybe smoking and drinking arent an issue apparently. But what about taking care? That’s the issue. Here nobody teaches you how to take care of yourself.
So I feel like falling down... And it’s a fucking fast fall. And I get fucking blamed for this.
“You don’t help enough. You’re never happy. Everything someone does for you is shit. You always blame others for your faults. Don’t you think that maybe I’m so tired and depressed because of you, do you? You make me worry so much.”
That’s what my mom keeps repeating. And I keep feeling terribly guilty. For what? For being an adolescent and for having my mother tired to death... I’ve always paid attention to other’s feelings and conditions... I can’t help with this.
I CAN’T HELP WITH THIS OK. STOP. SAYING. THAT I AM. A. FUCKING. MESS. ! Cause you know what, mother? I’M NOT! I’M SUPER COOL AND I NEVER DISAPPOINTED YOU! I WAS PERFECT AT SCHOOL, I GOT THE BEST GRADES IN MY CLASS AND EVERY FUCKING TEACHER COMPLIMENTED! WHAT DO YOU WANT? I’M ONLY 18 AND I’VE ALREADY WRITTEN A COUPLE OF BOOKS! I GOT PLANS FOR MY FUTURE!
SO WHAT? I’M DEPRESSED? I SMOKE? I DRINK? I AM NOT EMOTIONALLY BALANCED? I AM NOT GOING TO APOLOGIZE FOR THAT. NEVER.
IT’S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT! I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO BE CONSTANTLY SAD AND TIRED! ! IT’S NOT MY FAULT....
(My mother doesn’t eat at all when I don’t want to eat... I can’t help with this... Sometimes I just cant think about eating...)
AND FUCK YOU NEVER APPRECIATE MY GOOD MOMENTS AND PERIODS! Like when I’m on top, when I feel like I can do everything.... You never get that.... FUCK YOU!
So being in this fragile situation gives me a lot of stress and anxiety... Luckily I finished school so now I can focus on things I like (and even there, when I wanna do things that I like, there are always problems)..
FUCK THIS CITY FUCK PEOPLE WHO LIVE HERE FUCK MONEY PROBLEMS FUCK FAMILY FUCK MUM FUCK EVERYBODY I WANNA SET YOU ALL AND MY FUCKING LIFE ON FIRE
So you’re reading a lot of anger in my words.. Your’re right, but anger is the only true feeling for me... Sometime I imagine really bad things (like tonight I started thinking about me being raped by my ex’s friends... with my ex being there knowing everything) just to check whether I’m still able to feel sorrow or not.
I often imagined my parents dying... Just for curiosity.. So I think about my feelings: how would I feel? How much would I cry? Would I cry??? What about my sister??
And sometimes I can’t answer, like if there was absolutely nothing in my soul...Just darkness and perdition.
I know it sounds so stupid and pathetic but that’s how I currently truly feel.
Lost.
I used to be really sensitive and cry for everything but then I stopped. Now I am just disgusted. DISGUSTED.. By humanity, first of all.
Lost and disgusted: is there any remedy?
Maybe being high and drunk all tha way.
I fucking hate this place and wanna go away.. Still have to wait for october for university... but actually I just wanna getaway.
The most important thing for me is living a pleasant life and never regret anything.... This city and this situation and the people surrounding me are making me regret a lot. They are making me live with anxiety etc..
SPLEEN. ok? Maybe spleen is my problem.... That’s all.
Fuck. Thank you guys for reading
I just want to let you know that if you read all this you’re my super-heroes.
Thanks, seriously
xx
theechoofadistanttide
#sad#depressing thoughts#life#problems#bad#evile#smoke#weed#alcochol#zoloft#therapy#discussions#vintage#talk#anger#pink#i'm sorry#green
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
signs as people I know (check moon and sun signs)
aries: passionate about finding new ways to show love and create love with others, willing to put themselves down so others feel better, warm hugs, prefers music without words because they understand the message better without words telling them, will drive you to IHOP at midnight because you forgot to eat dinner, they care about literally fucking everyone, easily accept that change is unavoidable, their exuberant energy can seem very intimidating, outgoing, try to do the right thing, excessive with literally everything (its okay ily), ardent, hate waiting for shit to happen, want the quickest and easiest way out of everything, their passion can be destructive and actually detrimental.
taurus: art is abundant in their safe place, trying their best tbh, will put aside time that they need in order to help someone else, dislikes close minded people, sleeping prolly, has music too loud but they will tell you its not loud enough, thinks a shit ton about wether or not people like them but will never tell you that, actually very confident people, dont really care about what people think of them but also cares a shit ton about what people think of them, so fucking loyal and expect nothing in return, can complain a lot actually, loyaloyaloyal, hate it when others see them cry, tries to ignore their problems because they dont have enough time to deal with them (get it together, hoes), need more time for self-reflection
gemini: can make anyone easily laugh, knows whats in and whats out, veryyyy generous people, pretty smiles, has good music taste because they listen to all types of music, relatable, seems very unattached to reality at times, doesn;t give up something/someone if they really love them, will cook for you willingly, they are too cool for drama but typically start drama, will spend their whole night talking to you about future goals they have and the most random shit, life of the party, if you want to instantly laugh hang around a gemini, don;t consider other people in their decisions sometimes, will remove themselves of negative situations because there is nothing they hate more than negative people;
cancer: hold a very warm and gentle soul, can push people away because they tend to be very possessive but that is how they show love, they need a two year break, tries really hard to be relatable, let people walk over them without realizing, they love to pamper themselves to show love to themselves, you feel safe in their home, trusts people really easily, can get very broken and in a bad place if you betray them so please don;t honestly, when they;re angry it can show physically (red face, angry tears, etc), can be very dramatic, try to help others with confidence and self-esteem, will be there for you even if you arent there for them, oblivious to shitty people sometimes which results in trust issues;
leo: can be independent when they are comfortable in the situation, want the best for everyone, will defend you when you’re not there, will block you if you annoy them, just want someone to chill with, flirty!!!!, easily get excited over the smallesttttt things, knows when to change the subject, beautiful souls, these are the type of people you should go to last minute plans with (concerts, road trips, etc), just wanna have fun and look amazing while doing it, need/deserve love and attention from loved ones, gives you food if you forgot your lunch at home, makes jokes out of their pain, pure beauts with good hearts that will try to believe in the best of everyone, not afraid to be petty, main hoes.
virgo: will try to avoid being honest with you because they don’t want to hurt you, is taken advantage of too often, will bring you a cookie if youre having a bad day, courteous, organized, the person that always smiles at strangers just because, not really sure what they want out of life, can be very whiny, always want to be doing something to pretend like they have it together, if they are your friend please take advantage of how supportive they are to you, will very randomly give you compliments that can literally save your life because they;re always very thoughtful, amazing listeners, capable of fulfilling their dreams if they believe in themselves too, having boundaries is okay and you deserve to respect them if you want to;
libra: passionate about making others lives better, cuddle bugs, energetic, gives their time to anyone who actually listens to them, thinking outside of the box, probably really pretty, kind souls but a tough exterior, wears sweats to the store because who honestly cares, makes jokes with people on line at checkout, they probably have a tradition to cook breakfast on saturdays, knows how to look good and feel good, once they find their self-worth not a fucking bull-dozer can take it down, please try to fight them on facebook because you will lose, gentle people and will try to make you feel at home (problem: they don;t know how), quiet but their minds are spinning, need to learn to say no;, stop worrying about what others think of you (who gives a shit??), hate silence and being alone, queens.
scorpio: very honest but also very petty without shame, fun and funny, blasts old jams in their car while trying their very best to avoid accidents, hates high school and loves college, just want to find a group that they fit in with, will try their best to make your birthday amazing I swear, open minded to literally everything honestly, critical friend, will tease you about something that happened five years ago, a total nerd about things they really like, very smart and efficient if they are motivated by their passion, unique style in all ways, beautiful minds, they can come across as two-faced but they are very indecisive when it comes to opinions, embraces new experiences, secretive;
sagittarius: flirty and prolly is dating someone right now, wants everyone to be happy but forgets about making themselves happy, cooks pancakes for you at midnight on a Wednesday night, will almost cry but then remembers a funny video they saw and starts to laugh, hates themselves but shows themselves a lot of love, makes jokes out of their pain, lovable, look intimidating but are actually very welcoming, hides emotions like a pro, very optimistic about literally everything, if they get bored or annoyed they will move on from you, need to believe in themselves, don;t express gratitude but they really should, seemingly perfect(?), can sometimes compare themselves to others in order to make themselves feel better (stop.)
capricorn: doesnt study (yes I'm onto you bitch) for tests but still gets amazing grades, can be very fake but honest with people they are close to, traditional without trying, will be there for you, they are very observant and will remember if you did something that meant a lot to them, honestly needs a hug and affection a lot more than they say, takes long hot showers to make up for the lack in physical affection, lovely people, good people to sit with in the back of the movie theater so that you can talk the whole time, will accidentally spill tea and start drama, trying their best, work well with people who have a good drive for things they are passionate about,doesnt express emotion unless they cant hold it in any longer
aquarius: so fucking funny, constantly trying to be a better person in order to make up for the shitty world, watches documentaries about the sex industry, sticks to their morals, thinks a lot about life and the meaning of all of this, thinks (knows) the government is hiding something, will kill you if you hurt an animal, super chill and loves music, passionate, indecisive to the extreme, smokes weed to see if food tastes differently, interesting individuals, if they don't open up to you it's because they don't know how, if you mean a lot to them they will try to protect you from the world, is hard on you because they want you to succeed, moves from one passion to the other (you guys are super adaptable if need be), an amazing friend if they choose to put effort into the friendship
pisces: very confused about life and that makes them very sad, easily unstable, cries about failing a lot, not judge mental, hates it when people accuse them of something they didnt do, beautiful people with caring hearts that let in people who shouldnt be let in, offer you a hug if they see you upset in any way, wants people to like them, trying to find who they are, tend to let people laugh at their pain, shuts down their feelings when they feel attacked, doesnt purposely hurt anyone, will change themselves in order to be accepted,these people lose themselves too easily, once they find out who they are they are very stable and more content
#zodiac#astrology#Aries#taurus#Gemini#cancer#leo#libra#virgo#Scorpio#sagittarius#Capricorn#Aquarius#Pisces#the signs as people I know
19K notes
·
View notes
Text
I can read through the convo I’ve had with that boy for the past month in the same amount of time it takes me to read through a day in the summer
He actually asked me questions and kept the conversation going and joked with me so reading through any given day can take upwards of 10 minutes. And most of those days we had half of the conversation via Snapchat that I can longer see
It takes about 7 minutes to read what is me just me talking and him either not responding or giving one word replies or reluctantly a few sentences after I’ve nagged at him about it :(
Yea yea. Take the hint. From November to now (March) exact same day too... he’s never wanted to talk to me
There’s literally been two instances that he talked to me normally and I melted for the rest of the day. Not long either. Just him texting me first to just tell me something. So short that I’d even wondered those times if he accidentally texted me instead of someone else.
I’ve asked every question except for “do you actually want to talk to me” because as he said yesterday. The answers no. I knew it was no. That’s why I’ve stressed over everything else. Because I knew this whole time he hasnt wanted to talk to me. And I’ve asked every question
Why are you ignoring me
Why are you talking to that girl
Why don’t you treat me like you treat them
Why didn’t you look at my picture
Did you like my picture
Do you still think I’m pretty
Am I annoying you
Who are you texting
What are you doing
Any question around the focus. Do you WANT to talk to me.
No.
He doesn’t care about me at all.
I hate that he has options.
It sucks. Because if he didn’t have options. I know he’d like me. He did before. He got bored and there’s always someone else willing to be there for him so he can drop any of those feelings and leave
Me though. I don’t have options. No one I ever legitimately like reciprocates those feelings.
Years go by intbetween the times someone I truely want to be with comes along and shows interest.
If I had options and he wanted me I’d choose him and that’s what sucks. Because he won’t choose me and I don’t have other options.
It’s not like I haven’t been open to guys advances. But no one ever does. I’ve become interested in boys I didn’t find physically attractive but who were nice to me and acted interested. And then they were even meaner to me.
I’m fucked up. I’m miserable. I’m a shitty person when I’m upset. But I always meet these guys when I’m feeling ok. I don’t show that side. I do everything right.
There’s a legitimate attraction. We talk about our lives and interest. We joke and laugh together. We show interest in each other. I don’t flake on people even when I really want to but everyone I’ve ever met had cancelled on me at the last second. And with these dudes that do that (with the exception of the college dude) I’ve always been a normal understanding person who goes - that’s ok! You do what you gotta do we can reschedule if you want!
I don’t understand. I genuinely don’t understand. I’m not trying to make myself look good by any account when I say I literally have no clue what’s goes wrong every time.
NO ONE. WILL. TELL. ME.
It’s been happening my whole life and I started getting mad about it come college. I started demanding to know. Ive started acting like the crazy person when it happens. And. It doesn’t lead to answers
To be fair I started off just nicefully asking. All that got me was ‘what are you talking about? I didn’t stop talking to you! We’re talking right now’
When when I started pointing out that we are because I tracked them down I get ‘I’m sorry! I’ve been really busy!! I didn’t even realize’
Pointing out what it is they’ve been doing that show they no longer want to talk lead to people reacting the same way as if I went insane on them. I literally haven’t recieved a different response to me politely and thoughtfully going
‘hey. Idk if you’ve meant to do this. But it feels like you don’t want to talk to me anymore. You’re responses have been shorter and we don’t talk much anymore. You don’t seem to find my jokes funny anymore even thought they’re the same as before. And you haven’t reached out in a while - it’s just been me. Maybe you’re busy with (insert whatever thing I knew they were up to a month ago) and I’m sorry if I’m bothering you if that’s the case. But I was just wondering if I did something wrong’
That would lead to the same ‘OMG YOU EXPECT SO MUCH FROM ME!! I HAVE MY OWN LIFE AND DONT HAVE TIME TO PUT UP WITH YOUR BS!! I HAVENT BEEN IGNORING YOU IVE BEEN TIRED AND BUSY.’ —- followed by being personally attacked with whatever it is that person feels (whether it be projecting. Bringing up something small from months before they stopped talking to me. Or whatever nerve I touched during my message or speech)
I’ve literally gotten the same response from doing that as I’ve gotten to say.... going to their house and confronting them at an inconvienient time.
Both generally followed by ‘you always play the victim’ or ‘ you do stuff like this so that’s why’
These same speaches come from people I’ve known as little at a week to people I’ve know for 10 years.
It sounds as thought I’m hiding something. I just act like this psycho person all the time probably right. It’s not like I can prove that’s not the truth..... it sucks.
I hold so much hate still toward my freshman year roommate because she reacted to me this way and I know for a fact I never did anything wrong to that girl. I consciously every second of the day made sure to be nice and considerate and positive. And when she left and told the world that I was the devil. The only things she said that actually happened were
1) I raised my voice. I did whine loudly that one time at the like 3rd time her and her bf tried to have sex in the bunk bed above me I let out a loud whine and in the same pitch said “please stop I’m trying to sleep”
2) I had a dusty fan. You’re right. I should have cleaned it. It only blew on me but that’s my b. It didn’t occur to me that it was a problem but I would have cleaned it if she ever told me it bothered her
3) one night I got irritated and yelled at my printer and hit it. Yes. I did that. It was quite late but she was over on her computer and all the lights were one. I got stressed out that my printer stopped working and in a louder tone went something to the effect of “what the fuck you stupid thing!!” My friends earrring had dissapeared inside of it a few days prior. We looked for it but the printer ate and hid it somehow. I hit the printer in frustration. And then it began to work and in a happy voice I went “oh cool that worked” according to her that incident made my fucking psycho.
4) not in her list of complaints to everyone as to why I was the absolute worst were. One time I walked in and didn’t see her sleeping. So I turned on the light as I talked to my friend. I felt really bad when she sat up very disoriented and apologized and turned the light back off and left. Another time I walked in while her and her bf were in the middle of fucking and backed back out of the room.
One time when I was going to a party my friend said I should have my roommate do my makeup - while she was sitting there. I was already getting vibes the girl didn’t like me and so I didn’t try to talk to her unless she talked to me - keep it polite... I... didn’t actually admit to myself that she didn’t like me but I did try to give her as much space as you can in a dorm. She’d go to the library all day to be away from me so when she’d come back to go to sleep I’d go to the common room till I was ready to sleep. Stuff like that. But my friend saying that right in front of her I went with it and excitedly went - you’re right she does do great makeup and asked her if she’d like to do my makeup for me. She said ok. And when the day came I texted her and asked her if she still was ok with doing my makeup. She said she was busy studying and went that’s ok! I didn’t tell my friend that I thought she didn’t like me or anything. I just stayed surface level and said she’s busy studying! That’s ok! I don’t think my face is a good canvas for her preferred makeup.
I have literally never tried harder in my life to be good to someone. And that girl fucking despised me. She didn’t just dislike me but she wanted EVERYONE to hate me. And she went out of her way to make that happen.
And that’s what’s devastating about it. Not that she was a great person. She wasn’t. She said things that disturbed me all the fucking time and I would be positive and compliment her on something that’s going well for her or that’s she’s doing good now. I successfully for the first time since elementary school stayed positive with someone who tried so hard to make me say something mean. And instead of anything good was punished for it.
And she did what she sought out to do. My friends stayed on my side and told me how they didn’t understand why she disliked me so much. But I could always see them wondering - it’s it true? She’s actually insane to be with too long isn’t she? So many things for the next few months that they didn’t just tell me she was doing. They waited to see if I brought it up myself. Like I told my one friend days later that I asked someone on my floor if they knew why she had moved out. If she said anything specific about what I’d done. And he told me he didn’t even know she left. That’s when my friend spoke up and said - no she tagged him on fb and said thanks for helping her move out. No one told me toll the next year that she had added the boy I liked on fb. Not till once again I said I was talking to him and it was good at first but then he suddenly pulled away and idk why. Then suddenly - oh yeah! She added him on fb btw - they’re friends.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
