ugh i felt this in my soul

3

Falling in love starts with, “Who the fuck is this?” - Louis CK

Tumblr prompt ( jimin * OC)

can I have a jimin angst(and maybe smut) where oc and him are in an arranged marriage but they were childhood bestfriends so oc thought their marriage won’t go so bad but jimin became a cold reserved guy who doesn’t like oc? + plus happy endings cuz your angsts break me everytime 😭

Part 1/?

AU : Mafia Au [ because I miss writing Mafia AU.]

Warning : implied bullying, violence, some political bullshit, implied blackmail .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your husband loves you. it’s obvious in the way he stares at you. “ the woman was tall, svelte and dressed in rich browns and reds. i stared at her briefly, watched the way her eyes lingered on the breadth of jimin’s shoulders, the crisp cut of his clacks, the lean trim of his wiast in those perfectly tailored pants and the curve of his smile as he laughed with his friends. 

The club was almost empty , except for Jimin, Jung kook and Yoongi standing near the bar . The woman’s husband, a Lee Kung Min, was sitting on a huge couch in one of the raised platforms, two pretty little things on either side of him. his wife seemed completely unaffected by the way the girls were gyrating on his lap , too busy ogling my husband. 

“Yes.” I said softly, staring at the man who held so many bits of me that I’d given up on trying to get them back. He looked breathtaking in the dim lighting of the club, his hair styled and his fingers tapping restlessly on the lapel of his jacket. 

i felt the familiar fear and panic bubble and had to struggle to tamp it down.

 i knew what he was feeling underneath the expensive fabric of his jacket. the leather holster with his trustee gun : A 9 mm Glock with a sleek granite body that looked gorgeous in his hands. compact and deadly : just like jimin himself. 

“So, it’s odd, the two of you. the daughter of a Minister and a low level CEO…. how does that happen…”

how indeed? how did that little girl who loved colors and art turn into a pawn lost inside  the most violent criminal enterprise in the country. how did a girl who hated the very sight of blood marry a cold blooded killer? 

 “Tell me. How did it begin?” She repeated insistently and i gave her a little smile.

How did it begin? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It began with the letters .

I was seven years old when I  received the first one. it was written on a scrap of paper, tied to a smooth pebble, like the kind you could find at the bottom of a lake and the string was strong and ruby red. i remember playing in the yard of my father’s huge bungalow, using a metal fork to dig up a bit of mud in an attempt to build a moat for the imaginary castle where my princess would be.

i’d just finished pouring a bit of water into the pit  when the pebble came sailing over the high cement fencing, landing with a thud on my moat. Looking back, i was lucky it hadn’t just hit me in the head. i pulled open the string tie and found myself staring at the tied up string and with all the innocence of a seven year old, i opened the letter and found myself staring at an almost illegible scarwl.

i lyke yu ~ park jimin.

meet me outsyde the gayt

And as i naively went outside to meet my mystery suitor, my life changed forever.’

And that’s when i first met him, a twelve year old kid with a swollen eye, messy hair and a smile that made his eyes disappear. He gave me a grin and held his hand out. 

“Hi, i’m jimin.” He said firmly and I grinned back. 

jimin had been the epitome of quiet and friendly and cuddly and adorable and he had this way of looking at me like i was the most important thing on the planet. He was also incredibly sweet and it was obvious that he just enjoyed having someone to play with, even though he was five years older than me. 

“how’d you find me?” i said curiously, that first day, when he took me to a secret clearing in the woods, showed me how to catch tadpoles from the small brooke. 

“all the kids said that you’re a princess. that your father keeps you captive in the tower of your house. “ 

i smiled a little.

“Daddy says, if i go out, people will try to steal me away…”

Jimin hummed. 

“i won’t steal you. i just want to be your friend.” He grinned. 

“Okay. “ i said easily, not even questioning the why of it. 

For the next five years, I met Jimin everyday outside the huge wrought iron gates of my home and we would explore the woods around our property, digging through dirt, going on faux treasure hurts and catching tadpoles in the small ponds littered across the woods.

Right up to the day he moved away, when i was twelve and he was seventeen but he had promised to stay in touch. 

And i fully believed him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

freak. short. ugly. pushover. doormat. look at her with those slouched shoulders. ugh, she disgusts me honestly…just because her father has a bit of money…. she thinks she’s better than us but she’s actually the worst.

the words felt like little shards of glass, tearing through my skin and embedding themselves inside my soul. i hated school. i hated life. sometimes i just wanted to lie down, shut my eyes and never wake up.

why did these people hate me so much? i wondered miserably. the words were repetitive and monotonous, yet somehow managed to retain their power, not fading into the background the way they ought to, instead just scribing themselves ont he insides of my brain,

. i was a pushover. i was spineless.

I wasn’t a fighter. i certainly wasn’t good at confrontation either. Everytime i got into trouble with someone i quickly got away from that place to avoid an argument. it was instinctive at this point, the need to stay away from any kind of conflict.

And if it weren’t for the fact that i had my own future planned out, i wouldn’t be even alive at this point. i glanced at the clock, remembering how excited i used to be about 5.00 PM , when i’d been a  seven year old. 

i was still excited. albeit for different reasons. jimin had kept his promise . although we hadn’t met or talked to each other he had written letters. Just silly everyday things that helped me get through life, simple because they told me that even if no one else did, he cared about me. 

But I would get it back, i thought defiantly, staring at the huge bulk of envelopes, hidden deep inside my closet : a collection of his letters to me written over the period of ten years. Right from when he’d first moved back home to Busan when he was seventeen and i was twelve, to last month, when he had sent me the sweetest proposal ever.

The letter had come with a package : a small velvet box with a startlingly blue sapphire ring.

My engagement ring.

i was engaged to Park jimin. it wasn’t really and earth shattering surprise, i thought with a giggle. Even as a seven year old, i’d known that i would spend the rest of my life with Jimin. 

Sweet, kind and beautiful jimin. 

And if everything went right, by next month, i’d be free from the living hell that was my college. i could continue doing art, which was what I wanted to do anyway. that and be the best possible wife park jimin would ever have ( not that he would have any other) and repay him for the years of companionship.

But it seemed a pity that all this love i’d carried for him, all these years, would be forever lost between folds of paper. I sighed. it wasn’t the time to moan lost time. I was going to marry him. i would have him for the rest of our lives . that was what was important.

“Y/N!!” My mother’s voice made me jump a little. i grinned and grabbed the shawl from the closet, draping it over my bare shoulders and fluffing my blonde hair just once. I’d put my make up on earlier and I shifted a bit from one foot to the other, excitement coursing through me.

He was famous now. Handsome, successful and rich. Would he think i looked really different? I supposed so. the last time he’d seen me, I’d been a petite, awkward twelve year old. i was still awkward, although the years had added a little bit of flesh to my spindly frame. i wasn’t curvy but i was borderline feminine, if i put on one of those padded bras.

Humming, i stared at the small framed photo of him, that stood on my nightstand.

“well, I’m finally going to meet you. After so many years. in person. Don’t kiss me in front of everyone , okay? Wait till we’re alone..” i whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to the picture, before walking out of the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow…you’re.. you look different. ” i laughed nervously, staring at the stranger in front of me.

 Gone was the slightly chubby, slanty eyed boy of my childhood. Park Jimin looked nothing like the boy of my memories, his face angular and handsome, jawline so sharp it looked like it could cut and lips plump and soft : unsmiling .

i remembered how easily he used to smile, years ago and this gruff, serious version of him was oddly disturbing.

“Your father told me you’re changing colleges, after marriage?” He said briskly and i blinked.

“oh.. yeah. I thought it would be hard if i went to college here in Seoul when you’re in Busan and …”

“there are colleges in busan.” He said blankly, staring at me with a frown. i swallowed, surprised by the tone.

“of course, i mean.. yes, but i was hoping that …”

“You’re an art major, right?”

i nodded.

“you can get your credits transferred to one of the universities in Busan. pick one and let me know.”

there was something careless and intimidating about the way he said , pick one : like he was offering me the choice of candy in a shop as opposed to a seat in a prestigious college and i wondered , what it was that he did. But there were other more pressing things at hand. 

i stared at him, torn .

i didn’t want to go to college, for a number of reasons. I’d been studying art on my own, had even done commissions for a lot of people. i really wanted to study it formally but without having to mingle with people. And i was bad at the whole trophy wife thing : bad at making friends , bad at standing up for myself , just bad at socializing in general. 

But the park jimin in front of me looked like he didn’t really care what i wanted. i stared at him, searching for the boy i remembered but there was no warmth, no affection , not even the casual friendliness one might offer a complete starnger.

He was hostile and i had been surrounded by hostile people so often and so much that i recoiled instinctively, confused and hurt but too scared to voice out my thoughts.

he’s been a busy guy. just because you spent the last decade thinking about him everyday, doesn’t mean he did too… he’s probably really shy… just let him start this in his own pace….

i swallowed and managed a smile.

“i really loved the ring.” i said softly, holding my hand up to show him the sapphire stone.

He stared at it for a second and then gave me a small smile.

“i’ll let my secretary know. i’m pretty sure she’s the one who picked it out for you.”

It was a struggle, keeping the smile in place , but i managed.

“will you.. will you be here to plan the wedding? i was hoping we could visit the venue together and -”

“It’s already done.” He said casually, finally looking at me, his gaze lingering on the edge of my neck. I raised my fingers up instinctively but his hand shot out , gripping my wrist so hard that i flinched. 

“what is that?” He said , the first hint of emotion in his tone and i blinked foolishly, not sure what he was referring to. 

“What -?”

And without warning he reached out, forefinger pressing against the curve of my neck and digging in , the sting of the touch making me wince. 

“This mark… it looks like a bruise, how the fuck did you get it?” He said softly and the words were saccharine, almost cloyingly sweet but there was something in the  tone  that made me pause and I went perfectly still, not sure what to say. 

“it’s…” i thought about the senior who had yanked on my bag when i’d walked past him in the cafeteria. The strap on my shoulder had rubbed against my neck, hard enough to leave a small abrasion that had bloomed into a bruise. 

“Nothing.” i said finally, staring at him in worry . 

He stared at me for a second and then hummed. 

“I hope you have a good enough reason to lie, because after we’ve married if i find out you’ve been sleeping around behind my back, i’m going to be pretty mad….” he said casually.

the syllables strung together into words , reached my brain rather sluggishly and it took me a few seconds to fully comprehend that he sounded annoyed. 

 sleeping around…he thought the bruise was a hickey? 

“i’m not.. i never…” i stopped, not sure what i was trying to say. not sure why i sounded so defensive  when i really had nothing to be defensive about. We hadn’t seen each other in ten years and honestly, the letters were hardly a symbol of any commitment. Technically he had no claim on me till after we married and so the look on his face and the words on his tongue were both out of place and unfair. 

But i was an idiot and i didn’t even put up a fight. just nodding mutely. 

But then his next words made my entire being freeze. 

“I’m not saying you have to be faithful to me. it’s not about that. I have a public life. it’s important that you stay discreet because because i can’t have scandals popping up so close to our marriage. They’re going to carefully examine your social life, and if there’s anything indecent that you would rather hide, better let me know now, before it affects both of us. “ 

i stared at him. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t intend to stay faithful to our marriage?” i said in disbelief. He gave me a blank stare. 

“If you want to put it that way, yes. i’d rather say, pursuing our own interests. There’s no reason a stupid contract should stop us from living our own lives. “ 

 Stupid contract… living our own lives…

 “Are you kidding right now? is this a joke?” i said shrilly. 

he frowned. 

“What?”

“You.. You’re… that’s not what you said in your letters… You..” 

“Letters? what letters?” 

I stared at him and slowly, the truth dawned. A slow simmering bit of comprehension followed by burning humiliation. The letters…. he hadn’t written them. 

it made sense, now. 

My father had always been the one to deliver them. 

They never carried any postmarks. 

Jimin hadn’t written those letters.

 My parents had. 

 what a fool, you’ve been. 

My father : always with the kind , “Y/N  See, he hasn’t forgotten you! ” a gentle coaxing tone to make me feel loved when in fact it had all just been an elaborate lie. 

a lie to hide the insidious truth of what this marriage was : a complete and utter sham. 

“you’re… you don’t even remember me … do you?” i said stupidly. 

He gave me a blank stare. 

“we’ve met before?” he sounded genuinely surprised and i felt hysteria build up inside me. 

i tamped down the urge to sob and swallowed . 

“i… no. I must’ve mistaken you for someone else.” i said stupidly. it wasn’t a complete lie. The man in the letters was not the man in front of me. And maybe the man in the letters did not exist at all. 

“You know why we’re marrying right? “ he said suddenly. “ Your father wants my … support for the coming elections and i need him to help me out with my … business. That’s all this is….“

I smiled pleasantly, hoping that the crack in my heart wasn’t too obvious. 

“of course.” i said softly. 

A month later i’d married him.

 And on our wedding night, watching him shrug on his jacket, light a cigarette and then give me a smile with a careless, i realized that all he was willing to say was an indifferent, “ I’ve got some stuff to do. Don’t open the doors till i get back, alright?” 

No promises of a rosy future. No dreams to be lived together. No love . No family. Just him getting whatever it was that that my father had sold me for. 

Just me sitting with my back against the hardwood headboard staring into the wall and trying to understand what had gone wrong and how. 

And that was that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then that night, two weeks into our marriage , when he had come home drenched in blood and then he’d taken one look at my ashen face and said something that was both terrifying and calming.

“The blood isn’t mine.” 

i had stared at him, too stunned to respond. He shrugged off his jacket and there it was , a leather strap on across his broad chest, with a holstered gun resting just below the curve of his pecs. 

i stared at it in fear , disbelief and horror. 

“You… You’re…” 

“ I’m going to tell you this just once : what i do outside in my own time is none of your fucking business. You’re my wife, yes. But only when we’re in public.”

“Jimin….”

“Do i make myself clear?”

“……..”

“I SAID, DO I FUCKING  MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


i’d woken up to the sound of running water. After weeks of sleeping alone in the apartment, i’d become ridiculously attuned to the slightest sounds. not that i had to be. Jimin had guards all over the place. 

But i slipped on my peachy fuzz slipper and tip toed to the hallway, catching a glimpse of him , hunched over counter. 

“What … what are you doing..?”

He looked up from where he was bent over the kitchen sink, watching a huge curved knife, the water turning murky brown like ketchup gone bad as it went down the drain.

“The less you know, the better….”

“You’re not… you’re not just a CEO are you?”

He gave me a slow smile. 

“No, i’m not…”

“Are you….. Do you kill people?”

“Go back to bed, Y/N….”

“Jimin.. that’s not right… I can’t… you can’t…”

“I’m heading back out. go get some sleep.” 

i stared at him and it suddenly made sense. 

“this is it , isn’t it…. This is why you married me… As my husband you get immunity…” i laughed in disbelief. “ no one’s going to arrest the Minister’s son in law…” 

He looked up then, brows raised and lips quirking up in a soft smile.  

“Aren’t you a smart little cookie..?” he sneered. 

“you’re a murderer… You disgust me.. You…” i was shaking in disbelief. i was married to a murderer…. 

He huffed in annoyance and rounded on me, eyes blazing. 

“Your father was the one who paid me to do it. the guy i took out today? He’s the one sponsoring your father’s political rival in the next election. i’m just doing my duty as a filial son in law… “ He smirked. 

i swallowed. 

“That’s.. That doesn’t make it right.. you can’t just…’

“Well, isn’t it great then, the fact that i don’t give a flying fuck about what you think. “ 

I stopped short, glaring at him. 

“what happened to you… the jimin i knew would never hurt a fly.. why are you so…”

“the jimin you knew?!” He laughed. “ you mean the snotty nosed kid who trailed after you like a dog? panting for the smallest glance you’d deem to throw at him? you want me to be that kid again?”

i stared at him, feeling my heart turn over. 

“So , you do remember me.”

Something flashed in his eye , gone before i could fully grasp it. 

“ To answer your question….That boy is dead. this one here” he pointed a finger at himself. “ Doesn’t give a damn about you.” 

and then he was turning on his heel and walking out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the clink of glasses drew me back to the present. 

“That’s a really long story, Ms. Lee. Very boring too. Why don’t we go get another drink?” i said easily and the woman smiled, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from jimin to look at me. 

“I think you’re husband wants you…” she said with a little smile and i turned around. 

Jimin was leaning against the wall, his pose specific and clear. He had his eyes trained on me, his lips parted slightly , his eyes boring holes into my head and i felt my throat go dry. 

This was my cue.

i turned to the woman and gave her a small smile. And then i subtly knocked my elbow till the glass of wine tipped over, splashing over both our dresses in a crimson wave. 

“Ms Kim, i think I need a little help.. Could you?” I said softly, pointing out the restroom and she blinked but readily agreed. 

once we were in the ladies room, it was easy. i kept her distracted, helping her get the worst of the stain out and then letting her do the same for me. 

about five minutes in, the fire alarm began to ring and I grabbed her hand. 

“oh…. we need to get out…” i said urgently. 

She looked surprised and then the fear seeped in easily.

“My husband… he’s out there…”

“He’ll get out… come on… we need to leave!” i said urgently. 

She looked torn and then took my hand, gripping it hard and we began running out of the room and out into the hallways which was already filling with smoke and people. the dancers, some of the escorts, the bartenders from the different floors, the guards… everyone was piling into the hallways and the chaos would give Jimin enough cover to do what he had come here to do. 

kill my companion’s husband. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When i stood underneath the shower that night, I scrubbed harder on my skin, wondering if perhaps that man’s blood was on mine as well. 

 Blood of my Blood . flesh of my Flesh.  

Jimin had made that vow on the day of our wedding and i wondered if that translated to his sins. did they rest on my fingers too ? Was it a sin, loving a man who took someone else’s right to live? 

i turned the water on hotter , turning my face up into the spray from the showerhead , so lost in the feel of the running water that i didn’t even hear the door opening. 

it wasn’t till i felt the press of his chest against my naked back , that I realized that he’d slipped into the shower with me, the unwelcome presence making me jolt as i screamed. 

“shush…” He whispered, lips trailing over the edge of my ear before pressing down on the curve of my shoulder. “it’s me. You were so perfect tonight  ”

i stiffened. 

“Get out..” i said unconvincingly, my voice weak. 

He hummed, before wrapping an arm around my waist, palms trailing up over the wet skin to lightly shape my breasts, drawing out a startled gasp out of me. 

“i think not….Tonight went flawlessly. His wife was the only problem in the whole thing and you helped get her out of the way.  I appreciate the help…. ” 

I turned around in his arms, stifling the sheer visceral pleasure just looking at him gave me. if Park jimin in a suit was a visual treat than Park jimin out of his clothes was a whole other level of sin. 

i gave him a push. 

“i only did it because you threatened to kill her too.” i hissed. “ you’re a heartless bastard and i hate you..” 

“You’re my wife…” he began and i laughed. 

“now you remember?! Get out…” i said angrily. 

“Your father wants a grand child.” He whispered, gaze heavy and I felt my heart swoop down to my knees. 

“what?”

“you heard me. i think he has a point. Some of the investors in my company are starting to wonder too. They want to know who’s going to take over the company after me. ” 

Wow. Wow. 

i stared at him in disbelief. 

“i can’t  believe this….You… My father said he wanted a grand kid so you decided you can just walk in and… After everything you did to me.. Get out…!!” i screeched, fury bubbling through my veins like acid.  i shoved him , hard and he grunted in annoyance. 

He stumbled a little, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist before glaring at me. 

“this isn’t over. You’re my wife. Technically, you  cannot keep me out of your bed….i fucking bought that body when i married you…. ” He whispered, eyes trailing over my body as i hugged myself. The water had long gone cold and i was shivering. 

I glared at him. 

 “i won’t be another whore in your bed. “ i hissed and he actually laughed. 

“ You think i want you to be one? . You’re not good enough to be my whore.”   he snapped before stalking out of the bathroom. 

i glared at the closed door, shaking a bit as i sunk to the floor. 

God damn you, Park Jimin. 

Why couldn’t he just feel the same?
Why did the universe have to be so cruel to let me fall for someone who can never feel the same?
The torture of having such strong feelings for someone who you barely mean anything to.
And to think that I was so careful as to who I fell for cause I thought that what they felt would actually last.
I wish all my feelings towards him ended on the very first good bye.
Then I wouldn’t have spent years feeling so stupid and hating myself because I can’t control how much this means to me.
I wish I had moved on then, like they did.
At least the situation would’ve been fair.
The fact that this has been one-sided from that day aches my soul just thinking about it.
When will this feeling of unrequitedness end?
—  I’m so tired

so, you know how most of the new chapter was all about this reiner/eren/falco “i can relate, dude” dynamic and shit?

and THEN when falco went on about how he didn’t want gabi to inherit the armoured titan, eren (aka mr. kruger) immediately asked if she was a girl and falco blushes violently (which, was extremely cute why aren’t we talking about this???) and i just got this low-key eremika vibe?????

ok see, i have a solid ongoing problem in which i overthink pretty much everything (specially when it’s about my otp), but JUST HEAR ME OUT ALL RIGHT

ok so putting the whole “grrrrr i’ll exterminate every single titan from the surface of this godforsaken planet grrrr” thing eren has going on, what is the next thing our boy has always wanted to do?

the way i see it, he’s really fucking protective torwards mikasa and armin. but, yeah, mostly mikasa since (as we all know) hes totally smitten by her…………..ok but i feel like i have to be impartial so jokes aside, his mother DID asked him to look after her and he always felt so frustrated that she was stronger than him and anyway he could barely take care of himself, you know?

he did say he would protect her - and have - multiple times, tho

WHAT I’M SAYING IS eren totally understood™ falco’s dilemma whereas he went through the same stuff with mikasa. you know, since this whole exchange really was about reiner identifying with eren’s struggle and then the same between eren and falco, it just makes sense for me that little part of their pep talk showed eren eventually felt the same “there’s this girl i really like that i want to protect with all my soul but i just cANT UGHH”

i don’t know if i made any sense tbh
i may or may not have made some mistakes with my english… oh well
that’s why i usually never post the stuff i’m thinking in this site ugh
maybe someone has already posted something like this and i haven’t seen it yet…
sorry about all that
i just needed to get out of my system

but man,
what a great chapter

Why now? - Another Saeyoung Angst Fic

Title: Why Not?
Rating: Mature, includes death and shooting
Genre: Angst, all the angst
Game: Mystic Messenger
Characters: MC, RFA and Saeran
Description: MC loves Saeyoung and wants to tell him, but it’s too late, he’s found someone else, what’s MC to do?

Hey my lovely lovely followers, been wanting to do an angsty fic for a while and I wanted to do an MM one, I was inspired by this prompt, so enjoy :D

How long had I known Saeyoung for? Too long. How much had I been through with him? Too much. Ever since I had joined the RFA nearly two years ago, I knew I had felt something for the infamous hacker of the group. We had such amazing banter on the group chat, he constantly made me laugh and brought light in my life more than I thought a guy could ever do. Every time I logged in and he was in the chat room already, we always greeted each other with such love and admiration for one another, it felt good. More than good, amazing, fantastic, brilliant, any kind of positive adjective you could think of.

After the first few days of being part of the RFA, getting to know everyone, it didn’t take me long to realise I had feelings for him. The trip to go save his brother, Saeran, kind of just confirmed my feelings. My problem was, I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.  He kept talking to me throughout his troubles, we even shared a few moments between us whilst Saeran was still healing. He would hug me just a little tighter, our fingers would brush against each-others and he would purposefully do it again, we even almost kissed one time but Saeran had woken up badly from a dream breaking the moment. I didn’t blame him, not in the least, but I genuinely wondered what would have happened if he had continued to sleep.

Zen was the first one to notice how I felt, and naturally Jumin was the last. It was during a meal that Zen and Yoosung asked how I felt whilst Saeyoung was on the phone checking on Saeran at home. Of course, I couldn’t deny it, and thankfully they were more than happy to hear about it.

“Oh my God, I’m so happy for you!” Yoosung grinned like a child.

“You two would make such a good couple, honestly, you’ve been through so much together” Zen grinned too “you going to tell him?”

“I’m not sure, I mean, Saeran comes first right now and he’s doing so well, I don’t want to mess that up, you know?” I said.

“No, of course, but do you want to tell him?” Zen asked.

“I do, not sure how but I do” I smiled, the blush on my cheeks flaring up.

“We’ll help you figure something out, I bet if you do something romantic and slightly geeky, he’ll have to tell you how he feels and you’ll be together forever, and and….”

“Zen, calm down” I chuckled, shushing him when Saeyoung came back and sat next to me.

“Saeran’s ok, had another nightmare but they’re getting easier so, all’s good in the hood!” he grinned, digging back into his food.

“I’m glad he’s ok, like I said, if you need anything again in the future, I’m there” I offered.

“Thanks! I do appreciate that!” he said, giving me a quick hug and we all continued our meal.

Keep reading

Always happy

Request: Because “With bright smile” broke my heart and I’m a Bitch for happy ends I would love if you write a second part. Where Strange is trying everything possible to get the readers memory back, till the point where she finally remembers him, nice and fluffy please, love you <3

Originally posted by delfranz

Through the whole time she was in hospital, (y/n) was sure she was able to make a completely perfect definition of annoyment. The whole situation was really working on her nerves. Canadian doctors were constantly checking her brain for any trauma or other injury that might have occurred after the car accident she was told she had, her mother was by her bed all the time, and this weird man. He was like a lost puppy for her. Never leaving her room, asking her questions about situations she had no idea about, and always trying to at least hold her hand. “We know each other” he said “We were a couple” (y/n) only wanted to scoff at this. This could’ve been yet another attempt of her mother to find her a ‘proper man’ as far as she knew. Why would she trust him on the first place? Because of those deep eyes, which were looking right into her soul, or maybe because of his British accent? Speaking of witch, her mother should’ve known by now, that (y/n) hated the British accent…
“Here, I brought you coffee.” Said man walked into her hospital room, two cups in his hands. He looked different than the first time she saw him. His hair were washed and nicely done, he also shaved and changed his clothes.
“Thanks.” She murmured, taking cup from his hands and taking a sip… furrowing her brow she looked at the cup and then at man. “How did you know how I like my coffee?” He smiled sadly, looking at his hands.
“Two sugar, maple syrup, milk and just a touch of vanilla syrup.” He chuckled. “After year of watching you doing that, and mess in my kitchen, I had no other choice as learn how you do it.” She furrowed her brow. Yet again he was telling her they lied together.
“Listen. I appreciate the coffee and the fact that you are still trying to, ugh I don’t know what you are trying to do, but can you please stop? I’ve lost three years of my life, I’m bald and in hospital. So whatever my mother told you about me is not true. You were here for month, trying to tell me that we know each other, and I still don’t believe it, so please just go.” She felt weird, seeing how light in his eyes dyed. It looked as if she crushed his soul or something like that. He cleared his throat and slowly got up from his chair, his hands were shaking and he avoided looking at her, as if afraid that she may see something on his face.
“I…” His voice broke a little and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. All this situation is really hard for you, and I’m not helping at all. I wanted to tell you that I have to go back to New York anyway, so… I- I won’t bother you anymore.” All this time he wasn’t looking at her, and when he walked out of the room, through the window, she saw how he spoke to her mother, whom hugged him and patted his check before he walked away. Sighing (y/n) leaned against her pillow and took another sip of her coffee.He didn’t showed up anymore. (y/n) was happy with that and didn’t seemed as annoyed a she was previously. After another week of hospitalization, she was finally let go home, which made her even happier.

Everything in her parent’s house were different than  she remembered it. Her brother was out in Denmark, now living there, they had dog now, and her room was redecorated and there were two big boxes in there.
“Erm… mom, what are those boxes?”
“Your things are in there. They came through mail few days ago.” Furrowing her brow (y/n) nodded and walked to one of the boxes opening it. Clothes she not only don’t remember buying, but also wouldn’t buy, even if they would  pay her for it. Has her taste changed this much over those three years? Opening anther box, she smiled at the sight of a small, old teddy bear she had since she was a little girl. There also were more clothes, ones she actually liked, books and… a photo album. Sitting cross-legged on top of her bed, (y/n) opened the album watching the photos inside. There were few with her family and friends, some of them she couldn’t recognize. Smiling slightly she changed page only to look with wide eyes at the photo of her, with the man from the hospital, both dressed in winter clothes, kissing, with statue of liberty behind them. What was that? Scanning through the other pictures, she was shocked. At most of them she was with this man, laughing, kissing, hugging, in other various positions and places, but always happy. At one they were even dancing, holding each other close. With shaking hands, she took the picture from album and looked at it closely, he looked as if he was whispering something to her. Turning the photo around she found that there is something written on it. “I can’t smile without him” Furrowing her brow, she lowered the picture. What was that supposed to mean?

Every day without (y/n) in his life was like a living hell for Stephen. He woke up in empty apartment, now emptier without (y/n) things, went to work, and get back to said apartment in which he ate late dinner and went back to sleep. He was living on autopilot now, not knowing what to do with himself. He never got any news about his love’s condition from her mother, maybe she too thought that without him, (y/n) would be better.
After washing his hands after an operation, man sighed and walked to his locker to change into his clothes. His shift was over for this day, so he might as well get back home and drink some whisky for easier sleep. On his way out, Christine stopped him, offering him help, now that (y/n)’s gone. He pushed her away, rather harshly commenting on how she was pretending to be (y/n)’s best friend, now trying to get in her place. Woman slapped him for that, saying that he wasn’t the only one missing the woman, and that she only wanted to help.
After this incident, Stephen got back to his house in really bad mood. Yet it changed when he opened his doors, to find whole apartment lighted by candles, warm dinned on the table, and a silhouette hanging pictures on a wall, dark jeans perfectly hugging the long legs and backside of a woman, her short (h/c) hair standing wildly around her head. Stephen gasped at the sight of a woman in front of him, turning with that her attention to himself. Her (e/c) eyes shone at sight of him and wide smile appeared on her face.
“There you are. I’m glad to see you.” She walked to him, but he backed slightly, still shocked at the sight of her.
“(y/n)… what?” She hugged him nonetheless, happy sight escaping her lips when her head rested against his chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I remember you.” She grinned at him, showing the slight gap in between her front teeth. “I remember everything, and I’m so sorry, for what I said in the hospital. I had no idea who you were and…” He bowed his head down, kissing her plump lips for the first time of what he felt was an eternity. She shivered at the feeling of his lips, her hands automatically going to tangle in his hair and pulling them slightly, at which he pulled her closer to himself than she already was.
“I-I missed you. So much. Every day without you was like hell for me.”
“I’m sorry, Stephen. I’m so, so sorry.” She looked in his eyes, tears already running down her face. Stephen bowed his head and kissed them off.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. Your brain was damaged. I’m just so happy you are here.” She smiled at his words, backing slightly and pulling him to dining room. When they walked closer to the table, strange heard song coming out of the speakers. He furrowed his brow.
Can’t smile without you, by The Carpenters, recorded in 1976 and released in 1977…” He looked at (y/n) who smiled at him.
“It’s our song. You told me you love me, for the first time, while we were dancing to it at one of the galas you dragged me to.” She took his hands in hers. “Actually I remembered everything when I heard it, few days after they released me from hospital.”
“And I still love you, even more than then.” He pulled her to himself and started singing slightly, dancing with her around the table, in direction of their bedroom.
“What are you doing?” She giggled, looking at him. “The dinner is getting cold.”
“I’m in mood for something other than dinner. I want to cherish you.”


@leylanesobsessions

Daenerys’ Horrid Writing and Mediocre Portrayal

Okay I have a lot of problems with Daenerys as a character in terms of her entitlement and the way she feels that she is a good ruler solely because she freed slaves and fractured a society and pretended to have complete control over it. BUT many other people have have dug into the detail of her fervent narcissism before so I won’t go into it here (even though it’s roared her ugly fire breathing head a LOT in this past episode). I wanna rant a bit about Daenerys’ writing as a character. It seems as though D&D have written her to have either a tabla rasa stare with little to no movement or a contorted face of indignance that I can’t help but want to slap. I don’t understand why they write her with the personality of a chamber pot: she’s full of shit and waxes poetic about helping slaves and common folk but turns around and screams about she deserves loyalty and love while burning people alive or threatening to. Where the fuck is the consistency? How are you gonna give monologues about caring for people when you bring armies of rapists and pillagers to conquer them if they don’t want to humiliatingly bend the knee to someone who could barely rule over a room of toddlers??
But anyway, I’m straying from the original point of this post. To talk about Daenerys’ writing. Now I’m writing this post because there’s just something amiss about Daenerys’ portrayal and I’m pretty sure that something is a personality. Even though I’ve only ever seen Emilia Clarke in one other production (Me Before You) I thought her acting was stellar. I completely forgot that I spent years watching her play a silver-haired dragon bitch on GOT and really fell in love with her character in the film. I believe that’s because Louisa Clark in ‘Me Before You’ had a personality that Clarke could add depth too. Daenerys’ Targaryen on the other hand? She has no set personality (and currently no personality at all). She makes her loaded threats and bold declarations about her birthright in a unbelievable monotone that lends nothing to the character or her story and I believe it’s because she’s being written that way. I feel as though D&D are telling Clarke that Daenerys has to be emotionless and empty inside and I’m just like oh no baby what is you doing?? In previous seasons, Daenerys had depth: she cared about people and taking care of them and creating a better world for them and over time, D&D have dwindled her sincere warmth and compassion and replaced it with a scorching harshness that will scathe anyone if they dare cross her. And I am fine with that! A similar characterization has occurred with Cersei in which the motherly side that humanized her has been buried with a hardened heart, but you can see it. D&D write her with such depth that you can see that she still carries the pain of her past. She also has a facade of charisma and confidence. Daenerys doesn’t have ANY of that. She shows no strong emotions or attachments to her history until it’s convenient for her to whip out her backstory  for a rousing speech or quick persuasive zinger and that’s it. And she is the EPITOME of insecurity and self-doubt because she can’t go FIVE FUCKING SECONDS without reminding anyone within hearing distance that’s she’s the rightful queen with three goddamn dragons. Daenerys never SHOWS any of her confidence and security in her titles, she just YELLS in the most boring way possible. If Daenerys was charming, kind, mysterious, funny, genteel, bold, or SOMETHING that doesn’t depend on the plot, her character would be more compelling and I’d like her a lot more. I’d still hate her entitlement but at least it would be coming from a more likeable place. And I don’t think this is completely D&D’s writing as many other actors have been given much less to work with and they do a much better job but I think it has to do with a lot of it. Emilia Clarke does also demonstrate trouble with translating the character with awkward delivery and improper tone of voice for some parts but damn it is it a lot of D&D’s fault.

I don’t know it’s just that as the show progresses I feel a considerable drop in quality Daenerys’ portrayal and characterization (not that there was much there in the first place) and I feel like it’s reached its lowest point in 7x03. There are many more times in the recent seasons where I’ve felt this way but I feel like I should end this here. Just some of my thoughts on Daenerys and wondering why people lose their fucking souls over her. What is there to like besides the dragons, the titles, and the mediocre white wigs?

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Giggles (Tim Drake x Reader)

requested by @loudmouthwally

The sky was a dark cloudy gray, the sound of bustling cars and road rage sweeping through the crowded streets of Gotham. The quiet and crisp air lingering around the manor was tantalizing; disturbing, even. I looked over from my desk chair at the girl sitting on my balcony, her beachy waves cascading down past her shoulders. The night was fast approaching, but she drank her lukewarm coffee anyway, peering down at the lonely garden, her eyes wanting, waiting for something. She was beautiful. I could see her sparkling (E/C) eyes roam over the green grass as the rain pattered down to the ground, forming puddles on the walkways below. She was protected by the roofing above her, but I knew she wouldn’t mind her hand resting on the rail, feeling the tiny drops on her skin.

I ran a calloused hand over my face, brushing my hair back and off of my forehead as I stood abruptly, adjusting to the sudden shift in blood flow. The sliding door was open, allowing the crisp air to blow through. I noticed (Y/N) shiver, and I picked up the red hoodie on my bed, walking out onto the platform, “Hey.” I whispered breathlessly, handing her the big hoodie as I sat down beside her.

She looked over, setting her mug on the bistro table, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “You’re a little late to sunset, Timothy.” She smirked, the slightest upturn in her lips setting my heart on fire.

I looked away and towards the fluffy clouds, finding myself unable to hold myself together when I saw her, “What’s a sunset?” I suppressed a smirk, knowing full well she was going to take the question seriously.

“Are you kidding me, Timmers?” Her voice was of disbelief, and it wasn’t any surprise.

I laughed at her reaction, although it was totally expected, “No, (Y/N), I’m adulting you.”

(Y/N) let out the faintest ‘ugh’ sound as she punched my shoulder. She wasn’t very strong by the means of her fist connecting with that of my arm, but she was the greatest force by the act of her soul attaching itself to mine. “Cruel!” She claimed, immediately recovering from my Dick Grayson style comeback, “You’re the most incredulous boy I’ve ever met.”

I felt a tinge in my heart surge with emotion, “You love it.” I smiled uncontrollably, turning to see her eyes lock with mine, “Don’t you?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed, her beautiful eyes never leaving mine. God, I couldn’t look away. She’s the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world, and it seems that I’m head over heels for a striking young woman that couldn’t possibly love a boy as helpless as me.

She laughed lightly, the softest giggle, and it was the most angelic noise I’ve ever heard. She was gorgeous, her head thrown back as she expressed her happiness, her perfect teeth a shiny pearly white, her hair a disheveled beauty of (H/C) locks. I couldn’t contain my feelings any longer, or else I’d explode. She’s my perfect girl, my perfect flame, our hearts ringing in the most perfect peaceful harmony, “I love you.”

Her lovely, easy grin remained on her face as her piercing, compassionate gaze met mine once more in the purest form of innocent affections, “I love you too, Timmers. More than you could even imagine.”

Between being sick and being busy, I felt like I haven’t had time for much.

But I still want to say that my least favourite inconsistency in BtVS is the fact that some vampires (Like Angel) are like two different people with and without their soul and some vampires (like Spike) are not.

I’m so blind in my eyes, I can not see what others see in me, I never felt sexy, or cute, the guys toy with my heart and mind, the women’s ( girls) picks or talk down on me cause I don’t care for the conversation about sex or love.
But when I look at this picture of me all I can say is ’ Grace an Mercy’. A peace of mind, a heartfelt soul, sassy with southern class, soft to the touch. Why do I always meet to butt hole of the land. Ugh! ..

anonymous asked:

Can I bitch about how much I hate how Neil is written in fic? They make Neil to be this weakling who can't blink without Andrew there and I hate it. Trash talking Neil Josten has a spine and as much as we know he loves Andrew we all know he's not going to let Andrew just rule him. Stop writing as if Neil is subservient to Andrew. I know why they do this. They need to "feminize" one of the characters and since they can't do it to Andrew it goes to Neil ugh I hate this fandom.

uh!!!! idk who you are but i love you for sending this to us because i agree 100%!!!!

literally, i felt this whole ask in my soul. under the cut i give you the ways in which the fandom treat neil like nothing more than a piece of meat only living to get fucked by andrew.

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reymanova  asked:

if you're feelin it, i would love to see a fic where bi!fitz and bi!daisy find out about each other's sexualities :)

AN ~ I’m always feeling Fitz & Daisy *insert bruce banner face here*. This is set during 1x20/1x21-ish, post-Ward reveal & Daisy rescue, at that motel. Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!

Rated light T, for some swearing, & (anti)-Ward mentions.

Read on AO3 (~700wd)

-

Today was the longest day ever, Skye decided.

The sun was taking its time to set and she was taking her time to ignore the rest of the team before dinner – and even that, she was tossing up on. She sat by the pool, kicking her feet lazily in the water and watching the light refractions sway and bend. She hadn’t expected a California motel to be this dead, at this time of year, but she was glad for it as she drifted in the silence and her own thoughts.

After a while, she was interrupted by a crunching sound - of ice or glass or gravel – and the appearance of a bottle of beer in the corner of her vision. She turned toward it hesitantly, and found that it was attached to a hand, and the hand was attached to Fitz. Pressing her lips together, Skye offered him what smile she could manage.

“Come to crash my pity party?” she wondered.

“If you’ll have me,” Fitz offered. Skye nodded at the patch of pavement beside her, and Fitz sat, and began unlacing his shoes. Skye almost felt like laughing; just as she almost felt like wrapping her arms around him - for her own comfort or for his, she wasn’t really sure. She settled for cracking the bottle open instead, and returned her attention to the gently swirling water before her. Fitz sat beside her in silence for a while, until he gently asked:

“How’re you doing?”

Skye sighed, long and deep and bitter, and scratched at the label on her bottle with a thumbnail.

“I just feel so… fucking stupid,” she muttered. “I should have seen it. I don’t know how. I should’ve…”

She shook her head, and Fitz hummed in sympathy.

“He’s a master spy, though,” he reminded her. “He’d have to be, or- or they wouldn’t have sent him. You’ve only just started learning all this stuff. We’ve been in it for years and didn’t bat an eyelid. Even May, and if May didn’t catch it, none of us had a snowflake’s chance. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I guess.” Skye snorted, laughing ruefully before taking a swig of her beer. “Still, I could have at least picked someone fucking normal to – to -“

“Fall in love with?” Fitz suggested.

“If only.” Smiling a little pitifully, she sighed again, and this time felt some weight actually leave her shoulders. “I always fall for fucking useless guys. I just never thought I’d go for that- Hydra- Nazi- monster. I feel like washing my whole soul out with soap. Ugh. I just wish I could go back in time and pick someone else. Jemma, d’you think?”

Fitz spluttered, choking on his beer, and Skye laughed a little; this time for real.

“Shit, sorry!” She slapped him on the back as he recovered. “Guess that hadn’t come up, huh?”

“Nah- no – it’s just –“ Fitz’s voice rasped, and he struggled to get it back under control. “It’s just – your boyfriend, I sort of assumed –“

Skye shook her head. “I’m bi. It’s a common mistake though, cause I do tend to go for guys.”

“Me too.”

Skye started before she could stop herself, and Fitz blushed.

“I mean – I don’t go for guys, not really,” he explained. “I don’t go for anyone that much, to be honest. But I meant, I’m bi. I liked you. I liked…”

“Ward?” Skye met Fitz’s eyes with sympathy. “Fuck hot people, am I right? Man, if I ever figure out that soul soap, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” Fitz was still blushing, though, as he shook his head. “Honestly, I’m just glad he didn’t pick me. I don’t think I could’ve done what you did. That was bloody brilliant. Smart as hell, but I couldn’t have thought that fast. Or acted that well.”

“Well, thanks, but shitting your pants really does a lot to get the old neurons firing. I think you’d surprise yourself, Fitzy-boy.”

“I think I’d rather not get the chance to, if we’re being honest,” Fitz confessed. Skye grinned, and tapped the neck of his bottle with hers.

“I’ll drink to that,” she declared. “No more adventures for a while, huh?”

“If I ever have an adventure again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Here here.”

Ever felt so lonely?

Ever felt so lonely it physically hurts?
Felt your own heart breaking beneath your shirt?
Heard the ambulance sirens?
Wishing you were inside?
Running and running with no place to hide?

Felt the blood flow from your veins?
Symbolising the emotional pain?
Seen the tears roll down your cheek?
Planning your exit from the bleak?

Watched the life leave your eyes?
Heard the laughter turn to sighs?
Felt your patience grow thinner?
Along with your body since you skipped dinner?

Stood upon a building tall?
Borderline praying to fall?
Dived into an ocean deep?
Dreamt of drowning in your sleep?

Found life so painfully dull?
You felt like drilling a hole in your skull?
Felt your soul grow so numb?
It’s like it’s always been but without the fun?

Ever felt so lonely it physically hurts?
Felt your own heart pounding through your shirt?
Heard of horrors on the news?
Wishing the victim had been you?
Felt yourself grow emptier by the day?
Begging to go some place far away?

holy fuck so i have a story in case any of you care, so tonight i went out with that guy i mentioned earlier the hella hot one, and we went to this party at this bar and it was amazing and we hung out the whole time and he kept smiling at me and he’d like put his hand on my back when we walked through the streets and it was so cute hELp and so we were there until like eleven thirty until we realized it and i was low-key freaking out cause that’s when i was supposed to be back at my dorm which was like four blocks away but i didn’t wanna like be lame and suggest we go so i just kept my mouth shut until he noticed that it was like almost midnight and he goes “holy shit we’re screwed,” and he started laughing and it was the hottest yet cutest thing ever i cry. and so he like says goodbye to like the people he knew and then literally just went and grabbed my hand and we straight up ran through the streets of New York at miDniGhT. and when we got back and snuck up to the doors he grabbed my face and kissed me before smiling and going. “goodnight gorgeous,” and then he just walked off leaving me there a fucking mess. I’m dying so now i’m sitting in my dorm annoying the fuck out of my roommates bc i’m typing this out and i’m so giddy and happy and i haven’t felt butterflies in god knows how long bc i dated my ex for nearly a year and we stopped caring a couple of months ago and idk it’s weird but i just uGh i’m happy :-))

My heart wants you dead - P.2

x Min Yoongi (Suga)

ANGST/Supernatural (Demons & Angels)

Masterlist || Words: 1301 || Part 2/? || [1] [2] [3] [4]

“No one expects an angel to set fire to the world.”

Originally posted by yoonkooks

Suga was seated on the sofa as you received the take out from the delivery boy.

“Thank you very much.” You smiled and grabbed the bag from him.

“No problem hot stuff.” He smirked. “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t know you had a-“

You turned around and saw Suga standing behind you, his eyes looking at the bag of food.

“Uhm, bye.” You said and closed the door. “That was awkward.” You laughed.

This was the fifth time Suga was at your place this week and you really enjoyed his company, when he left every time you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. He felt like a best friend already.

Suga took the bag from you and laid up the food on the coffee table in the living room.

The evening was over quick and Suga was going to leave. You honestly didn’t want him to leave, you wanted him to stay. But you knew yourself that you had the next days filled with a lot of work.

You stood in the hallway and watched him with a sad expression as he put on his jacket and tied his shoes.

“Hey?” He said, making you look up at him instead of the floor. “What’s wrong?”

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Making Amends

Description: A smutty part two to “Imagine finding out about soulless!Sam…”

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Reader

Warnings: smut, little bit of sad shit, 

A/n: I’m gonna try to pump out as many fics as I can this week cause pretty soon here I’ll only be able to post on weekends, so if you have any requests at all, nows the time to send them in!

Originally posted by samhellbound

I drove all day, ending up in some shitty motel in Wisconsin. I settled in, trying to calm myself down a little, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t help but think about people that I loved and trusted shut me out the way they did. At least Sam didn’t have a soul, so he probably didn’t really care about anyone, probably no real conscious either. But Dean? His soul was definitely in tact, but he still didn’t even try to get a hold of you except for when he needed help. The tears rolled freely down my face as I broke out in sobs, feeling weak and vulnerable. I walked to my bed, curling up in a ball. The sobs shook through my body, and before I knew I had even fallen asleep, I was waking up to knocking on my door.

“Give me a minute, here!” I yelled at the door, rushing to the bathroom mirror to wipe away the smeared mascara from the night before. I rushed over to the door, smoothing my t-shirt before opening the door and almost slamming it shut right away.

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6

What If Kara Had Arrived To Earth On Time? 5/?

The night of Cat’s date arrives and she’s surprised to find Kara also on a date

I need to punch something. 

I need to find something to unleash my wrath on before a poor soul crosses my way, and I end up tearing them to pieces.

I don’t even know what I’m so angry about, I just know that my blood feels like it’s boiling inside my veins.

What was she doing there? What was she doing with him? With that poor excuse of a man? Ugh! The way he kept ogling her was sickening. I felt violated, and his stare wasn’t even directed me. How could she stand him?

He just kept talking about himself. He wouldn’t even let her speak, and she just sat there smiling at him like an idiot! What is wrong with her?!

He was just so wrong for her. Sweet, trusting Kara. He probably just wants to sleep with her. I shudder at the thought.

I almost got up from my chair a couple times when he got too close. She just kept leaning into him and his cheap cologne. One more roll of my eyes and I would’ve had a stroke. 

At one point he leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek, and when I scoffed indignantly the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, as if she could hear me. Which would be impossible since we were on opposite sides of the restaurant.

I just- I had to leave. Before I did something stupid I would regret later. 

Now I just feel… down. I’m always a mess of new, scary feelings when it concerns her. I’m confused, and lost… and I just can’t tell where is up anymore.