my heart woke me crying last night how can i help i asked my heart took me by the hands and pleaded return to Him for this guilt, it kills me these sins, they blacken me this distance, it tears me my heart said with tears streaming down it’s eyes return to Him so we can both be at peace
Disclaimer: This isn’t a request, but an idea that came to me a while ago, and I felt I needed to complete it. Fighting and fluffy smut ensues, enjoy 💙
It’s a silence that takes shape around you like a fog, thick and unforgiving. It causes you to think, your mind utterly wild and roiling like a tsunami tide. “This is it Y/n. I can feel it.” Bill never says the same thing twice but every single time it’s a variation of the same sentence.
You’d been to fertility clinics all over the country and it was always the exact same story: “I am incredibly sorry to tell you this,” The doctors sullen voice cuts through the stillness like a shrill bell. “But it is virtually impossible for you to conceive children.” Bill squeezes your hand under the mahogany table like a vice grip, as if his strength will lend itself to your irreparable uterus and the next day a baby will be found there. You watch, bleary-eyed as the doctor leans back in his leather chair, pushing his wire rimmed glasses farther up the bridge if his nose. “There are other options…” He drones on, over and over, a broken record playing in the background of your mind like a dismal soundtrack.
You think you’re all cried out until you’re stopped at a red light and Bill turns to you to say, “He’s right love, there are other options.” You knew there were; you weren’t blind to the notion that there were plenty of adoptable children, plenty of women willing to home your baby in their belly for nine months… you just couldn’t comprehend the fact that you couldn’t give Bill the one thing he had pined for from the moment you said I do. They are silent, wracking tears. Rivers of saltwater cascading down your face and before you know it, your nose is running without pause, you can’t breathe and you’re hyperventilating. Bill is silent, he’s been down this road time and time again and he’s been turned away at the chance of being a father too many times to count. The anguish in that revelation itself is visceral.
When you have composed yourself enough that you can halfheartedly get a breath of air in, you simply say that you’re sorry.
A/N: This story is inspired by ‘I Need You’ and ‘Run’ This story will contain fluff, smut, drinking, drugs, and angst. No, this story will not be exactly like the MV’s but I have used some scenes.
Summary: Jung Hoseok knew you like the back of his hand, and you were almost certain you knew him just the same; but when you meet his friends and watch in shock as everything you knew about Jung Hoseok was only the half of it, you realize just how wrong you were. Jung Hoseok and his friends had completely flipped your world around.
“I’ll meet you at the diner in twenty, I have to go pick up some things from Minho’s house.” You smiled at the thought of your wonderful boyfriends name. Hoseok chuckled on the other end of the phone causing you to break out of your drooling. “Y/N yall better not fool around like last time! I waited for forty-five minutes for you!!” He huffed.
“Calm down hobi, he has work today; and I already told you how sorry I was for that!” You laughed softly, reassuring your best friend that you would meet him in twenty.
When you arrived at Minho’s house you noticed his car was still in the driveway. Minho must have taken off work today. Sorry Hoseok, I might run a little late… wink, wink. You thought to yourself as you unlocked the door and walked inside being greeted by a lingering smell of apple cinnamon house spray.
“Minho?” No reply.
You set your keys on the table near the door and made your way to the room where you had left your charger a few nights ago, causing you to use the shitty emergency charger you had found in one of the junk drawers of your kitchen.
Your hand reached out for the door handle, quickly freezing in place before you could turn the knob. A soft grunt escaped through the door followed by a loud moan. Another moan met your ears along with a women screaming out Minho’s name, causing your heart to beat so loud you were surprised the neighbors couldn’t hear.
Without even thinking you opened the door to find Minho pounding into a girl you had never seen before. His lips were latched onto her neck the same way they were latched to yours a few nights ago, his hands tightly gripping her waist just he had done with you. His moans grew louder as she begged him to go faster causing you to finally make your presence known, without being fully aware of your actions.
“Y/N!?” Minho shouted as he pulled out of the mystery girl and quickly tugged his boxers on. Ignoring his plea’s and shouts you grabbed your charger, your extra toothbrush and the few clothes you had kept there for nights you stayed with him. For the nights you slept in that very bed he had just had sex on, that very bed where he decided to betray your trust.
“Y/N, please let me explain!” He grabbed your arm stopping you from leaving, forcing you to look up at his soft brown eyes. A river of tears fell from your eyes the minute you looked at him, remembering every memory, every kiss and intimate moment the two of you had together; when he reached out to wipe them away you pulled away in disgust.
“Don’t touch me Minho. Don’t fucking touch me.” You cried reaching for the door in a desperate attempt to leave the house now full of haunting memories.
“Y/n listen to me please. I’m so sorry..”
“Who is she?”
“I said, who the fuck is she?” You shouted, ignoring the very noticeable crack in your shaky voice. He hesitated a second before telling you all the things you knew you didn’t want to hear but felt the need to know. Most of the story went in one ear and our the other as you stood motionless staring at the man you had loved so dearly. You looked at his slightly swollen lips and down his exposed chest thinking back to the time when you thought it was only yours to touch.
“I gave you everything..’ You said barley above a whisper. “I gave you all of my love, I worked my ass off make sure I had enough money to pay my rent and still have extra on the side for us to do things. I loved you so much.” As if someone had just flipped a switch inside you, anger started to build up inside causing you grab the picture (it was a photograph of you and Minho at the carnival the fall of '15, it was the year he told you he loved you) hanging on the wall and smashing it to the ground. “Go to hell Minho.. and for your sake I hope you take your slut with you. Wouldn’t want you to be lonely”
“Maybe you should just talk to Lisa and tell her you cant work today, I’m sure she will understand y/n. I’ll take you out or we can have our infamous movie nights.” Hoseok whispered to you while played with your hair in the comfort of yalls favorite corner booth, as you cried shamelessly in his chest.
Hoseok was always the friend that would drop anything and everything he was doing to race to you the minute you needed him; yalls friendship was the kind that you knew people had to be jealous of. He held your hand in such a platonic way just because he loved having you by his side, he loved hugging you the minute he saw you, sometimes even picking you up in the process. He stroked your hair until you fell asleep on tough days, occasionally he would stay the night, and on these nights yall would face each other and talk until the wee hours of the morning. A loose strand of his black hair would sometimes fall into his face and as though it was a duty of yours, you’d softy tuck it away. You studied him like he was the greatest subject in school, and he studied you just the same; he was the greatest thing you ever had and the only thing you truly needed. 'Friends will come and go, boyfriends will come and go, but no matter what changes in your life you can always count on me to stay here right by your side. I’m your hope and you are mine.’ He once told you during one of your infamous sleepovers, Hoseok was the best friend you could ever ask for.
“I cant miss any more days Hobi, I am already two months behind on rent; but aside from that I’m glad I have you. Thank you for being the only guy to never do me wrong,” You smiled weakly at your best friend and placed a small kiss on his jawline. “I love you so much Jung Hoseok.”
“I love you so much more Y/n Y/l/n.”
We said our goodbyes and you watched him walk through the diner doors sneaking quick glances at you before he was out of sight.
You painted a fake smile for your costumers but unfortunately the slightly runny mascara and your noticeably puffy eyes gave away your act. Your current state gave you a few apologetic looks and a few eye rolls, a few costumers even gave you a bigger tip almost as though they were saying sorry for something they had no control over.
By the end of the night you had made a total of 175 in pity money, not nearly enough to make any difference in your rent situation. The drive home was silent until your mind decided to speak up.“Her name is Jisoo, we’ve been seeing each other for… for about two years now.” His words kept repeating in your head until finally the tears began to fall. “She is twenty two..”Twenty two.. her age becoming a tattoo on your brain, the entire situation rang through your ears and replayed in your head like it was some kind of movie you couldn’t seem to turn off. He likes younger girls? You thought to yourself as you quickly examined your face in the rearview mirror. Do I not look young enough? Was I not good enough? Was the sex bad? All the possibilities ringing in your ears making the tears fall even harder almost blurring your vision. 'You were always working, and anytime you would finally come to see me you just wanted to sleep.’ You clutched the stirring wheel until your knuckles turned white, you opened your mouth and let out the most blood curdling scream you could possibly make. A string of profanities left your lips as you screamed in anger allowing yourself to fall apart.
Slamming the car door behind you, you made your way up the cement staircase to your apartment door only to find your day was only getting worse.
EVICTION NOITCE: Dear current tenant, you have one week to collect your belongings and turn in your apartment key. Any further questions please contact the leasing office.
You were 2 months late on rent and it wasn’t the first time this had happened either. You worked your ass off but it wasn’t enough, you knew you living alone was going to be difficult, you had wanted to move in with Minho but he had never asked.
As if your hands had a mind of their own you dialed Hoseok’s number and waited for him to answer, it wasn’t until after the fourth ring he answered.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” His words dripped with sleep and worry.
“Um, I am getting evicted.. I have a week to move out..” The thought of asking the man who gave you everything for a place to stay made your sick to you stomach. The walls felt like they were closing in on you and a loud sob erupted from your lips without warning.
“Well dear, its time you finally came to my place and met my roommates. I’ll send you the address. I love you, see you soon.” And with that the line went dead and in a matter of minutes you received a message.
Hobi: 3523 Midrow Ave. Just let yourself in, my room is the second door on the right on the third floor. Be safe, we can go back to your place tomorrow and start packing.
Third floor? He lives on the nice part of town in a three story house? How many roommates did he have? Why did he never tell me any of this? The subject you once studied so diligently turned out to be a lot more complicated then you anticipated.
you’ll have to read it to understand the purpose of this one. it’s called At Peace. you can read it here
“Mmaaaattttt,” Pidge groans in her seat. Her and Matt had been telling each other stories about the adventures during their time apart, until they came across an asteroid field they couldn’t get around. You see, although they’d rescued Matt months ago, they had such little time to reconnect and actually talk.
The ex-green paladin let Matt concentrate though and in turn gave in to her heavy eyelids. She had been so excited to get back to Earth she couldn’t sleep the night before.
But now Matt had successfully gotten through the field, and Pidge was wide awake. “Kaaaatiiiiie,” her brother replies in a teasing tone.
Pidge wrinkles her nose in disdain at that.
Matt chuckles at her reaction. “Would you prefer I call you Pidge?”
The small blond nods enthusiastically at the suggestion, “Just for a little bit if you’re not comfortable with it.”
The older sibling clicks his tongue at his sister’s unsure behaviour. “Pidge, don’t worry about that, I’ll call you chicken wing if you ask me to. It’s all up to you. But don’t forget you’re a Holt.”
“You have a message,” spoke Pidge’s watch. A second later, Matt’s watch let out the same robotic tone.
The two siblings look at each other before looking back to their watches, Matt putting the pod on auto-pilot first, of course.
“It’s a video from Lance,” Pidge notes. Matt nods his head in agreement.
Suddenly, both teens gasp upon noticing a small detail in the file’s thumbnail. The older teen speaks up first, “Is he… crying?”
This looks serious, Pidge thinks to herself. “Let’s use headphones just in case we have different videos.”
Matt nods and hands his sister a pair; two sets were placed in his lap as soon as he saw the tears in the ex-blue paladins eyes. Pidge pulls up a holographic screen from her watch, in the corner of her eye, she sees her brother do the same. She takes a deep breath as she connects the Bluetooth of the headphones to her watch.
As soon as it’s finished loading, Pidge hits play. The screen is black at first. A few seconds later, Lance’s face comes into view.
He looks like death. Tears stain his cheeks in a steady stream, the bags under his eyes were deeper than ever, and his cheekbones were poking out more than usual. Immediately, Pidge’s sibling instinct kicks in, as her and Lance were the closest on the team, next to Hunk of course. I knew you weren’t okay, and I tried to help…. but you weren’t this bad. Lance, what happened to you?
“Hey, Pidge. O-Or Katie? I’m not sure what you prefer after you’ve reunited with you brother,” Lance chuckles sadly in a shaky voice.
Pidge’s face is already wet with tears. How could I let you fall into this state?
“Either way, I want to say thank you. Next to Hunk, you were the biggest support system to me. You were there when I needed you,” the Cuban takes a deep, trembling breath. “And I don’t want to die with you thinking it was your fault, or that you could have done something to help. Oh, that sounded worse. Just. This isn’t your fault Pidge.”
What isn’t my fault? But Pidge doesn’t fool herself. She knows exactly what Lance is talking about. Sobs racking her body, she reaches out to her brother, who simply lets her fall onto her chest and hugs her tight.
Lance scratches at the back of his neck. “Agh, this already sounds bad. Pidgeon, I’m going to be honest with you. You’re the first video. You’re the first person I made a video for. And I’m sorry to say, I’m not sure why. But I know you’re important to me. And I wouldn’t want you to think otherwise.” More tears fall down his face and a sob escapes his mouth, but he’s able to keep himself contained. “Pidge, in case you haven’t figured it out already, which I doubt, because you’re an extremely smart young lady. I’m going to kill myself.”
A sob takes over Pidge’s entire body as she finds herself pausing the video. For a few minutes, she lays curled up in her brother’s lap sobbing loudly and ugly, her entire body twitching with each breath. Her brother continues watching his own video, quiet tears falling down his cheeks, his mouth left agape.
After fifteen minutes of crying to herself and sinking in the fact, Pidge decides she’s not ready to continue watching -and she never will be- but she knows she needs to finish the video.
The blond girl wipes her eyes and replaces her glasses on her nose. With a small sniffle, Pidge presses play.
“Now, don’t freak out,” it’s a little too late, “I’m not doing this over any event in particular. And don’t bother trying to stop me, by the time you’re watching this it’ll be too late. I’m just. I’m tired, Pidge. I’m tired of lying. To you, your brother, Allura, Keith. Myself. Truth is, Pidge, you know that picture you saw of my family?”
“Yes,” the vulnerable girl answers even though she knows he doesn’t hear her.
“Well, it’s a fake. I don’t really have a family to come back home to. You guys were the closest thing I had to a family, the paladins of Voltron, Allura, Coran, you were my family.” Lance sobs again, this time a bit longer. “I have no one else, no one to go to, and you guys were all heading somewhere, with some place to be. Remember when I said I was going to confess to Keith? Tell him I love him? Start a family with him? That was my last resort, Pidge. No, it wasn’t Keith’s fault, there’s nothing wrong with him finding someone who loves him. I know it’s cowardly, and I’m sure if it was anyone else, they would have held on to hope and find someone who would love them. But I’m not someone else. I’m not strong and I’m me. I’m Lance. Nobody needs me. I can’t hinder someone like that.
“I love you, Pidge, all of you, but I can’t stand living like this anymore. I can’t stand being by myself, looking for purpose, looking for a reason. A reason to stay. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on longer. Don’t feel guilty, Pidgeon. In fact, you can feel happy, happy that I’m gone, and at peace. Peace with my decision, and peace within the heavens. I’m not holding anyone back anymore. I’m free. So don’t feel sad, Pidge. In fact, my funeral should be festive. Play some Beyonce at that shit, get all the single ladies on stage,” he chuckles sadly. “All laughs aside, I’m glad you were my friend, Pidgeon. I’m glad you were there for me, and I’m happy that you let me be there for you, too.I’ll miss you, Pidge, and I hope you’ll miss me too.” Lance gives a small wave before reaching forward and the video stops.
And time along with it. The pod is silent. Matt’s video was apparently shorter, because he was already staring into space, his grip on Pidge strong and weak at the same time.
“Is he really gone?” the shrunken girl asks in a small, raspy voice. Tears continued to pour from her eyes like rivers, each dropping falling bringing her closer to the cold realization.
She felt her brother nod softly and press a kiss to her forehead. They cried there, together, for hours. Each trying to put on a brave face, be the strong sibling.
Well, that was absolute shit.
I wish I could supply you with a better version, but this is basically the best I can do. Hopefully the other videos will be better.
I started reading I Bloomed for You a while ago because you posted it a while ago (I saw you posted about the update today which was sO GOOD??!? im in tears halp) so thank you so much for introducing me to it!! Do you have any other kookie angst of hurt/comfort fics you've read that are good? I'm having trouble finding good fics. Thanks!!
OMG I’m so glad you liked it! Come cry with me T^T I haven’t cried over a fic in a while but the angst is really freaking real and I will cry you a river. I feel like I’ve read a lot of hurt/comfort fics but I’m totally blanking out on a lot of them. But here are some I remember!
This Series AO3, Ongoing, I remember I read these series of Taekook fics awhile ago and they were like really smutty but near the newest installments, it got really freaking angsty and I’m still waiting on that comfort.
Red AO3, Oneshot, Yoonjin, basically a twist on the red string of fate au and I loved the angst
Fic Request: “It is 1:48 AM and I just woke up from a very weird dream. I only remember bits and pieces of it, and basically Anti saved me from Dr. Schneeplestein and its pissing me off bc I know it was really good if a little gorey but I can’t remember it 😠. Could you maybe write something for it? I know your swamped but holy Hell, I can’t recall anything more to save my life and its going to be the death of me…”
In recent years, a quote from Captain America (written by John Michael Straczynski) has become popular. It was popular at first because it embodied a specific sense of the hero as a man. Now it’s becoming popular because it has suddenly turned important in this day and age, and that’s terrifying.
Here’s the quote:
“Doesn’t matter what the press says. Doesn’t matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn’t matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: The requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world – “’No, YOU move.’”
I know a lot of people who love to quote that, who have pictures of it on their facebook wall, who proudly call themselves fans of Cap. Good on them, be a fan however you want to be.
But before you start lecturing me on how punching a fascist is wrong, please consider the following: What happens after Cap says “No, YOU move” to the person he’s standing up to?
Kumbayas? Hugs? A montage where the bigot cries a tear and changes his mind? The swelling of orchestral music as the whole middle America small town moves to stand with Captain America and the fascist shamefully hangs his head and walks away?
He’s saying “No, YOU move” because he’s not going to be the one to give in. And planting yourself like a tree beside the river of truth does not mean standing there and politely asking the fascists to stop being mean. It means you fight for the position you’re holding. It means you dig your heels in and you don’t move.
If you quote Captain America and you love that line, please consider for a moment that what comes next isn’t a happy acceptance and end to all bigotry. It’s usually Cap punching a Nazi in the face.
I know she won’t be perfect every day, but she will try her hardest to smile even if she just cried for a few hours.
She’s an ocean of worry and the only lifeboat that might appear is you.
She will smile when it matters,
when it counts.
Please, don’t take her for granted.
She is no longer a flower,
I made sure of that.
I ripped through every petal
searching for soil
that we once stepped on,
I tried to search for the seed
of love at first sight
and I’m sorry,
I scratched the veins and she
will probably wither in your palms.
She no longer acts crazy,
I made sure of that.
I judged her for who she was
and who she wasn’t.
She won’t show her true colors yet,
she’s testing you,
you’re on trial.
She’s watching you,
and you’ll feel like
there’s gasoline in her saliva
and her kiss might be the spark
to set you on fire.
She won’t spam your text messages,
she won’t write you cute letters,
she won’t write short stories,
and she won’t blow up your phone.
I made sure of that.
I know you won’t love her on some days, I know she won’t always be kind when you whisper a slick remark, I know she won’t enjoy long walks because she’s always exhausted, she’s always too tired and she won’t always be fun, but you have to bear with her,
be gentle with her,
be loving to her,
be the net for her stomach butterflies,
be the cloud to hold her tears,
she knows how to come around.
Some days she might be emotionally destroyed because of something I said to her a few years ago, I’m sorry about that too.
Some days she might be smiling from out of the blue and it might be spring and you’ll ask, but she won’t tell you. I’m sorry about that too.
Some days she’ll be clingy, wait, she might be like that all of the time, shit, I’m sorry about that too.
You see, emotional and physical trauma comes in many forms and the people we tend to love can hurt us in the most messed up ways.
I was that person,
don’t be that guy.
Don’t pick up poetry,
you’ll make her cry.
Don’t have sex with her just to have sex with her, don’t. Notice her smile, notice the way she undresses her blossoms, take notes of the way her lotus tattoo breathes into your skin, pay attention to how her slow breaths can spell out your name, don’t be caught up in the euphoria of the sin, be caught up with her body language and how she wants you to feel and it’s not that simple to move her heart, you must pay close attention to that one detail, do not let her stray, watch her eyes, grip her hands and speak lightness into her ears.
Anyone can have sex,
not everyone can make love.
That is a truth I had to learn
after five years with this person.
And some days she’ll cry,
and she’ll cry, and she’ll cry,
and she’ll cry, and she’ll cry,
and she’ll cry, and she’ll cry.
Dude, it’s that time of the month again.
Fucking hug her. Send her cute text messages. Give her belly-rubs. Bring her food. Give her fruits. Watch a show with her. Kiss her cheeks. Kiss her forehead. Kiss her fingers. Kiss her hands. Kiss her palms. Kiss her stomach. Kiss her arms. Kiss her lips. Kiss her heart. Kiss her soul. Kiss her.
And if that doesn’t work?
Hold her. Hold her body like you were the big spoon made for her. Hold her like the stars grip the night sky. Hold her hands like her fingers could feel safe when they trace their owner’s name into your back. Brush the tears from her cheeks and make sure they don’t get away, make sure she feels that you care. Grab her heart and let her know that you love her even if all she did was cry today about how random she’s being, how emotional this shit got and how real it got. Make sure you let her know, let her know that she is loved.
You don’t have to be like me.
You don’t have to write a thing.
You just have to love her.
Love her like how I couldn’t.
You don’t have to be perfect.
You just have to treat her perfectly.
You don’t have to be amazing.
She just has to feel amazed.
And I know, you’re probably thinking, what do you know? You’re just an ex-boyfriend, there’s a reason why she left you. Hey, wake up. Don’t be selfish. This isn’t about me or you. This is about her. You listen real good here, some people aren’t meant to be together for all of eternity. It doesn’t happen. It doesn’t. We change. This is how you love her right. Treat her with respect, love her ways even if it doesn’t make much sense, and I know she might set you on fire and I know she might make you passionate about everything, but that’s how she is.
A sapphire among rubies.
A cloud in the volcano’s steam.
A sunset swimming in the ocean.
A rose in a garden of forget-me-nots.
A blood drop in a glass of water.
A tear drying on lit cigarettes.
A fox howling with wolves.
A heart found near the river bank.
A girl who just wants to be loved.
And I know she isn’t perfect,
I know she won’t always be yours,
I know she won’t be the best,
I know she cries a lot,
I know she isn’t from magazine covers,
I know she can be a handful,
but I promise,
if I know one thing.
One thing at all.
It is that she is worth it.
Please, make her smile because she didn’t smile enough when I held her, because she didn’t feel loved when I kissed her, because she felt used and I’m to blame, because she deserves happiness and well, so do you.
This is how you love her
and what’s that famous quote?
Author’s Note: happy birthday week @kpopfanfictrash welcome to fantasy land <3 Pairing: Jongin x Reader (oc; female) Genre: Time Travel!AU; fluff; angst Summary: Jongin has been traveling throughout time and finding every version of you - loving every version of you. He’d like to tell you about you. Rating: R Warning: explicit language; implied sex; mentions of violence and blood Word Count: 3,070
It’s taken me six hours to figure out how to start this. The thing is that, no matter where I begin the ending is always going to be the same. It’s important that you hold on to that, okay? Hold on to that and don’t let it drift, ever. Remember that the ending is always going to be the same, in every iteration.
Can you please write Nessian with the post "I wasn't that drunk" "You asked if he was single and he said no" "SO?" "You cried" in mind? Drunk! Nesta please!!!
This is more on the side of a drabble, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! Also Amren makes a cameo. Because who better to tell you about your drunken night of chasing your own mate than her!
Nesta rolled over in her sleep. But instead of soft sheets underneath her slumbering form she was met with open air and nothing to stop her from tumbling off the chaise lounge.
Immediately she startled awake in a tangle of limbs and a thick blanket that smelled faintly of Cassian.
A glance around showed that she was at the House of Wind. And that Amren was smirking at her over a cup of hot tea.
“Rough night?” Amren asked.
“I wish I could tell you, but whatever drink Mor gave me last night has made me…forgetful.” Nesta rubbed her eyes as a headache pounded in her skull. “What the hell did she give me?”
“Something that makes even the most rigid of fae loose their inhibitions for a night of fun,” Amren flicked a page over in a book that rested on her lap. “And for you it was quite a night.”
Nesta stilled at Amren’s tone. When she looked up the dark-haired female’s eyes were glinting with humor.
“What happened?” Nesta asked. Her thoughts turning over everything that she could possibly remember from a night of celebrating with the Inner Circle.
“You were trying to hit on Cassian,” Amren took a sip of her tea.
“I punched him?” Nesta asked incredulously.
“No,” Amren chuckled. “I meant that you were flirting with him. And trust me Nesta you were trying your hardest to get him to come home with you.”
“I couldn’t have been that drunk,” Nesta refused to believe what Amren said. Surely she was stretching the truth or trying to make her nervous.
“You asked him if he was single,” Amren said flatly.
Nesta blinked. Her and Cassian were already romantically involved. Was whatever magical concoction that Mor gave her that strong enough to make her completely drunk?
“So? Perhaps I was just testing him to see if he was too drunk to remember we are mates.” Granted Nesta hadn’t fully accepted the bond since she and Cassian wanted to wait until they were married by human standards. That was something Nesta was adamant about.
Nesta reached for the other teacup that Amren slid over to her. Just as the warm brew touched Nesta’s tongue Amren spoke again.
“Cassian told you that he was already taken. And then you cried enough tears to fill the river.” Amren smiled as Nesta choked on her tea.
“You lie,” Nesta coughed and tried to think back on last night, but her memory was still cloude.
Amren shrugged. “Believe what you will. Eventually Cassian had to fly you back after you tried to dance on one of the tables with Mor. Apparently he wasn’t too fond of you taking off some of your clothes for everyone to see.”
“Mother save me when I have to face him,” Nesta groaned into her hands. Cassian would no doubt tease her about this for years – centuries even.
Amren tilted her head. Watching Nesta drown in her mortification.
“I understand you feel embarrassed, but just keep this in mind,” Amren paused until Nesta looked up at her. “Cassian will tease you. There is no doubt about that. But just know that he brought you up here and even as you begged him to take you to bed he wasn’t going to let that happen. And trust me when I say he would have been more than happy, but he wouldn’t do that to you when you clearly influenced by the alcohol.”
“He did that?” Nesta looked down at the chaise lounge. Hands tightening on the blanket that had provided her warmth last night. “Did he put me here?”
Amren nodded. “He would have put you in bed, but you kept trying to follow him and tug off his pants.” Amren chuckled at the memory of Nesta chasing Cassian around the halls last night. “So he finally brought you here to rest and stayed until you fell asleep. He then locked himself in the bedroom.”
Whether to protect himself from Nesta or perhaps the other way around was to be debated. It was clear by the end of the night that Cassian was struggling not to give into temptation that Nesta offered.
With a heavy sigh Nesta stood up. “I should go tell him that there is no need to use a wooden door as a defense anymore.”
Amren gave her a light wave. As much of a goodbye as Nesta would receive.
Nesta walked away with the blanket still draped around her shoulder toward the bedroom she knew Cassian would be in. But not before stopping in the kitchen and making Cassian a cup of tea as well. He no doubt deserved it after watching over her last night.
And if he decided to tease her about what happened then perhaps that hot tea might accidentally land in his lap.
Jared took your advice. The next weekend he went home, and the boys spent time with his parents while he tried to work on things with Gen. Again. When he came back, you could tell it hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped it would. You had passed him in the lobby, and gave him a reassuring smile on your way out.
He was tired, and drained. Between work, and trying to make things work with everyone, he felt like he was running on empty. He came home after work that Wednesday to a note taped to his door that simply said “downstairs.”
With a groan, he headed down and knocked on your door. You answered, and a wonderful smell hit him. “Come on.” You smiled and led him in, letting him shut the door behind him.
Fuck Mediocrity and My Mental State (If I Should Die Tonight)
If I die tonight, put me in khakis, vans, my real friends sweatshirt and a beanie. If I leave this world tonight play neck deep and the new seaway album and my funeral. You’d like the songs. If I die tonight write my eulogy. Try to say good things that you remember about me… if there are no good things to say, make some up.
If I should die tonight, take my birth certificate, my debit card, and my social security number because I won’t be needing them where I’m going. Become a better version of me maybe the best version of me, something that I could never give to you.
I if I die tonight cremate half my body. Burry one half in the ground and let it create something meaningful. Food for worms or a tree or some grass or a bug. Something then the sack of shit I become at 3:30 am. Cremate my legs. I want everyone to know I’m really dead when they look at my face in my casket. I wonder if you’ll still see the oceans in my eyes. Take my ashes and scatter them across meaningful places. I want some on my high school soccer field. Some in my old freshman locker with a hole in the back wall. Put some of me in a river. In a forest, in an ocean, in the mini golf course where we had our first date. In the rental house we we fucked. In the coffee house where you fell in love with me. In the tears you cried when you couldn’t explain how sad you were.
If I should die tonight, know that it’s no ones fault. I just got tired of life and too stressed with the empty feeling of missing you in my chest. I got too angry with myself and this body I despise and my tendencies to fuck up any good thing I find. Remember, you were my good thing.
If I die tonight know that I spent way too much time writing this down. I wrote this entire thing at 4 am because you stayed up the night I made the wrong choice. Know that I know my poems don’t mean anything to you anymore. That you’ll always be angry. Know that my mom wants to know how you’re doing more than she wants to know how I’m doing. That I’m still waiting to get coffee. Know that I miss you.
If I die tonight…. just finish this poem because I don’t know if I can. Write me a better life. Write me a news article about how interesting I was. You won’t write my obituary because I will live forever.
Prompt: A sequel to Color. Lin grieves over the death of his wife.
Pairing: Lin x reader
Warning: angst and mentions of death
A/N: Here’s a sequel that no one asked for. Inspired by With You from the musical Ghost and Lin’s recent interview for the Olivier Awards. I didn’t proofread, I was too busy crying lmao.
Hello, Mrs. Miranda. This is Claire from Blanc Dry Cleaners. We still have a few of your blouses ready for pick-up. It’s been a few days since we’ve first called and you’re usually prompt with pick-up so I wanted to give you another reminder that they are ready…
Lin didn’t know how or why, but he found himself standing in front of the counter to Blanc Dry Cleaners. His feet felt like lead, but somehow he dragged himself out of bed after hearing the voicemail from Claire. The customer in front of him finally turned, arms full of clothes wrapped in garment bags, and exited the store.
Claire’s brown eyes widened once she saw him. “Mr. Miranda, what a surprise! I never see you alone, are you here to pick up for the missus?” her lips pulled up into a grin, “what a sweet husband you are! I’ll be right back, ok?”
He watched as she disappeared into the back, her ponytail swishing behind her. He didn’t know why he put himself through this torture – it’s been weeks since she… He swallowed thickly, eyes trained to the ground as fresh tears clouded his vision. The wounds from his loss were still raw, and he knew that coming here wasn’t the best idea.
“That’s three blouses for your wife, clean and ready for her to wear! Say hello to her for me, will you Mr. Miranda?” Claire chirped.
Here’s part’s 1 and 2 for my No Strings Attached series!! I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it!
It’s entirely too early for you to be awake and functioning, but you just can’t help it. Ever since you woke up to an empty bed in the middle of the night and you overheard the conversation Luke was having with his girlfriend, you were having a hard time settling down.
You roll over and look at Luke with his amber curls in a mess all over his forehead and his skin spotted with freckles. You’re drinking in every inch of the piece of art work in front of you. The sun was peeking through the windows and kissing his skin in ways your lips could never. He was literally glowing. Thus further confirming your beliefs that he’s not human but an ethereal being.