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wroteasongabouther · 3 years

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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 2

a/n: thank you all so so sooooo much for the love on the first part of cstsyl ❤️ i hope you guys like part 2 just as much, and please reblog/leave me any feedback if you can as if really just makes me smile and helps with the engagement and blah blah blah u know the drill lol

and thank you to the lovely jill @havethetimeofyourstyles, jess @arrogantstyles and wendy @bookwormandtea for beta reading for me!

word count: 15k

warnings: mentions of death, couples fighting, awkward silence in elevators, and addicting candy cane pretzels.

fic page // let’s chat! // cstsyl playlist

They were fighting again. Y/N’s voice was booming through the walls, her boyfriend’s echoing after hers. Harry tries his best to focus on anything but their voices, but he can’t. It doesn’t make him feel all that great listening to the girl he had only seen smile and had been making laugh over the past two weeks, now yelling on the other side of the wall between them.

Harry plucks a soft melody on his guitar as he lounges on his couch. His hands absentmindedly playing the four chords that have been stuck in his head all morning while he attempts to write lyrics to the melody. Only, he was having a bit of trouble doing so as he listened to Y/N’s voice again.

“Honestly, Mark! Really?” Y/N’s shouting is muffled, but Harry hears her still. “You really think that it doesn’t bother…” The rest of her words are a bit harder to hear as she quiets her voice. Harry never imagined he’d hear her raise her voice like that. That soft, sweet and gentle tone that he has spent dreaming about for weeks now.

Harry’s still plucking the chords he’s grown obsessed with, humming along while zoning out on the blank tv in front of him. He feels selfish, and rather ridiculous too, not wanting to imagine Y/N with another man. But he also feels selfish that he’s not upset over the fact they’re fighting for the third time in two days. Harry shakes his head and scolds himself for the thought. Regardless of his feelings, he shouldn't want Y/N to feel this way. He can tell these couple days must’ve been hard on her, working all day and then coming home to only end up in a yelling match with her prick of a boyfriend.

Harry rolls his eyes and notices that the shouting has stopped. The silence of his apartment, aside from his guitar, only makes him feel a bit sadder.

“I’m selfish, I know,” Harry sings, “but I don’t ever want to see you with him.”

Suddenly, his phone chimes from where it’s sat on the table, signalling an incoming phone call from Mitch. A picture of the two of them together in the studio last spring shows on the screen, Mitch tucked under Harry’s arm as they’re both slouching into the couch they sat on. Harry reaches for his phone and swipes his finger across the screen to accept his call.

“Hey,” Harry mutters into the phone, focusing on getting together his notebook and cleaning up the few torn crumpled pieces of paper littering his coffee table.

“Hey, you leaving your place soon?” Mitch asks. Harry can hear traffic in the background, meaning that he had already left his place that's located much closer to the studio than his own apartment is. Moving his shoulder up a little, he holds his phone between his ear and shoulder in order to use both hands as he sets his guitar into the open case that’s sitting on the chaise lounge of his couch. Then scrambling around to gather the scrap paper and glass of water he had, standing up with his trash in hand to throw away and glass in the other to put in the sink.

“Just about to,” Harry answers honestly, making his way into his kitchen to clean up. He sighs after clearing his hands and returns his phone to his left hand to hold now.

“You get busy with that neighbour of yours again. Got a new crush, H?” Mitch teases him. Rolling his eyes, Harry brushes a hand on his light wash jeans before patting his pocket to make sure his thin wallet was still there.

“No,” he mutters, obviously lying to his best mate - which Mitch is very aware of as he hums in response. “I’ll be there in, like, 20 if the tube isn’t a horror show.”

“You’ve lived here for nearly 3 years now, think you can call it the subway yet?”

“Nope,” Harry sighs. There were a few things his British instincts kicked in for; many different phrases and words he knew would stick in his vocabulary despite how many years he’s been in the U.S. Harry’s grabbing his green winter coat and slipping on his boots as he holds the phone between his shoulder and ear again. “Should I grab the gang some coffee on my way? Seeing as I’ll probably be the last to arrive,” Harry says in a tight voice, his annoyance from hearing Y/N and her boyfriend still clear even in his phone call with his mate.

“Don’t count on it. Tom hasn't answered his phone all morning, so something tells me he’s preoccupied,” Mitch suggests. Harry recalls the text he had gotten from his friend Tom, saying that he and the Missus were planning to celebrate their anniversary early this year. Mitch seems to be hinting that their celebrations have fallen into the morning too. Harry bets that Tom being MIA was because of his two children. The two of them knew how to gang up on their dad already at a young age—he couldn't imagine how they’d be when they grew up.

“He’s a dad, Mitch, that's probably what he’s preoccupied with,” Harry states. After putting on his coat, he walks over to clasp the case for his guitar closed and heaves it up before heading for the door.

“Point being, don’t bother with coffee. I’m in line at Starbucks anyways. Did you want anything?” Mitch asks.

“A slice or two of the banana loaf, please,” Harry requests, his stomach growling at the thought of food. Time had slipped by him this morning, listening to Y/N and her boyfriend argue, and he hadn’t eaten more than an apple for breakfast.

Harry double checks the lights are off in his apartment before shutting the door behind him, setting his guitar down to rest on the wall to his left, and locking it quickly. Mitch is complaining in his ear about some Karen at the front of the line. Harry chuckles at his friends colourful words and picks up his guitar, not sparing a glance at Y/N’s door as he walks to the elevator and hits the down button to call it to his floor. Not even a ten seconds go by and he hears someone exiting their apartment behind him. Harry doesn’t want to look over his shoulder to check, not wanting to see Mark and Y/N walking hand in hand towards him. So, he keeps his eyes trained up on the red numbers rising above the elevator doors, signalling it’s arrival, soon hopefully.

“Hey, Harry right?” Mark questions, pointing a finger at Harry as him and Y/N stepped up to the elevator. Y/N tries her best not to frown. She hates the way Harry doesn’t smile at her first before meeting Mark’s eyes and nodding.

“Hey,” Harry says. He turns his head and catches Y/N’s gaze. “What are you guys up to?”

Y/N knows he’s simply being polite, something Mark wouldn’t care to be - seeing as he’s already got his phone out of his pocket, and is staring at the screen as he answers. “Y/N’s driving me to the airport,” he states.

Harry looks at Mark, anger bubbling inside of him as he clutches the guitar case in his hand. The elevator doors open then, a light bing! coming from inside. Mark enters first, not even bothering to look at Y/N or Harry, but then Harry waves his free hand in motion to let Y/N walk in before him. She smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she walks into the small space and stands beside Mark.

“Thanks,” she says in a soft voice as Harry hits the button for the lobby. She takes note of the guitar case in his hand. “Are you heading to the studio?” She asks, pointing to the bulky item he’s carrying.

Harry looks down at his guitar case, “yeah, last day before everyone gets their break.”

“No more counting down the days then, huh?” She asks, mentioning their previous discussion about how people typically countdown the days till they have time off - her included this year. But Harry had mentioned that he wasn’t looking forward to his days away from the studio. He didn’t think she’d remember that.

“Counting the days till I’m back in the studio now,” Harry says. Y/N smiles and Harry’s heart bursts at the sight. Having heard her raised voice earlier today, being sure a scowl was etched on her face, he was glad to see her lips turned upward. Mark clears his throat then, causing both Y/N and Harry to quit looking into each other's eyes and step back into reality - her boyfriend was right beside them.

“Studio? What are you, a singer or something?” Mark asks Harry. His eyes catch sight of Mark’s arm snaking around Y/N’s back, resting lazily on her left hip as they stood there. Harry licked his lips and almost nodded, but was quick to catch himself and shook his head instead. “What kind of studio then? Movies?” Mark continues to question him.

“A music studio, I’m just a musician,” Harry answers.

“Oh,” Mark says, “cool,” he adds with a shrug. The elevator doors open and Mark guides him and Y/N out of the small space. “Well, see ya around, ‘Arry,” Mark says with a smug look, trying to mimic his accent. But he butchers it, of course, sounding more like Hagrid from Harry Potter. Mark then waves and turns himself and Y/N to the right of the lobby that leads to the stairwell that went down to the underground parking lot.

Y/N only gets to give Harry a quick smile before Mark turns her away. She wants to apologize for Mark’s ridiculous behaviour, feeling embarrassed by it. She also wanted to say that Harry wasn't just a musician, he was a songwriter too, which therefore meant he was a storyteller, and in her eyes songwriters were some of the most creative and talented people. Y/N wanted to shut Mark up and start bragging about Harry, like he was her boyfriend and Mark was just some dumb prick.

Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and licks them, glancing quickly over her shoulder before getting to the door. Her eyes meet Harry’s intense stare, him looking over his shoulder at her too, and her stomach erupts with butterflies. But then it flips and flops with nerves and her hands suddenly being tugged on by her boyfriend, holding open the door with his hip as he walks them through the doorway and out of Harry’s sight.

Harry finds himself thinking about Y/N the whole way to the studio—as if he hasn’t stopped thinking about her and her boyfriend over the past couple days anyways. Did she ever mention being in a relationship, even in the most subtle way? Did he misinterpret her kindness for flirting like an absolute idiot? These questions were on a loop inside of his head until he walked into the studio, flashed the front desk his ID badge, and headed to studio B where he and his mates would be working today.

“And he’s made it,” Mitch announces as Harry pushes closed the door and walks the few steps to his left where the brown leather couch was against the wall. Adam is sitting on the couch, the phone in his hand chimes as he types on it quickly, merely giving Harry a quick smile before looking back at the screen. Mitch is standing by the switch board, leaning back against it as he stares Harry down. Next to him is Tom, sitting in his chair and facing his many computer screens as he gets everything up and going for the day.

“And I see we were both wrong and Tom beat me,” Harry states. He sets his guitar down, leaning it against the side of the couch before sitting himself down beside Adam.

“I wasn’t answering my phone because I was already on my way over here way before any of you slowpokes, and then I turned off my ringer once I got in here,” Tom explains, leaning back in his chair while his eyes stay on the screen. But then he twirls around, facing Harry and Adam, and gives Adam a bored look. “Like we all agreed to do, right Adam?”

“Relax, I’ll do it after I send this last text,” Adam says.

“Sure,” Tom mutters, swivelling his chair back around and grabbing the mouse to continue his set up.

“Jeez, Tommy,” Mitch chuckles, “did you not get any last night or something? What’s got your panties in a knot?”

Harry’s eyebrows pull down as he takes in his friends stiff posture as Mitch’s words seem to sink in. “Wasn’t it your anniversary date last night?” He questions, keeping his voice light and not as daunting as Mitch’s had been.

Tom turns back around to face the boys and makes a big show of rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it was supposed to be, but then our babysitter called and was all freaked out and of course Jenny got all freaked out too. I tried to tell her it wasn’t that big of a deal and they could handle it, but we still ended up leaving our hotel room at nine o’clock and dealt with our two crying children who just missed their mommy. I was in bed by eleven.” Tom explains his night, ending with rubbing a hand up and down his face as he was clearly annoyed by the whole situation.

“That’s just life as a parent, man,” Adam states. “Emi and I didn’t have a single date night till Spike was five,” he adds with a shrug.

“Yeah, I get it but it’s just upsetting to have this whole night planned and then it not happen,” Tom says. Harry knew that feeling; he may have not had a full anniversary night away planned like Tom did, but the other day he was racking up things to do with Y/N before he was introduced to her boyfriend.

Harry zones out, eyes glued on the coffee table in front of him as he sighs softly, leaning back into the couch as he was getting wrapped up in his thought of Y/N, again. I could still be her friend, he thinks. Even though it’d hurt to see her with her boyfriend, to hear about a date night or see them kiss. The ache already begins in Harry’s chest as the mere thought of it, and he finds himself bringing a hand up and rubbing over his heart subconsciously.

“Harry,” Mitch calls, forcing Harry to snap out of his thoughts and look up at where he stood. He raises his eyebrows, making Harry think that he had said his name more than once but was ignored.

“What’s going on?” Tom asks Harry.

“He’s probably thinking about his latest little crush,” Mitch smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who is it this time?” Adam asks in a monotone voice.

“His new neighbour. Supposedly, she’s rather beautiful in Harry’s eyes,” Mitch teases.

“Not just in my eyes,” Harry mumbles, looking at his lap and picking off an invisible piece of lint.

“What do you mean?” Tom questions.

Harry hears Tom’s chair squeak suddenly, making Harry assume that he must be leaning back in it again. Harry looks up to see he’s right - Tom’s got his arms crossed at his chest like Mitch while they’re both staring him down. Harry lets out a sigh and shakes his head, leaning further into the back of the couch while he licks his lips and looks anywhere but at his friends’ faces - not wanting to see their taunting looks when he tells them.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Harry says in a low voice.

Mitch inhales a sharp breath, hissing through his teeth as he walks over and clamps a hand down on Harry’s shoulder. “That’s tough man,” he says.

Harry shakes his head again and sits up, causing Mitch’s hand to fall off his shoulder. “It’s not just tough. I get I have these crushes on people a lot, but I don’t know, there was just something different between us. We really clicked and I just thought we’d at least get to go out a few times,” he speaks softly into the quiet room,the support of some of his closest mates surrounding him.

“Have you written about how you’re feeling?” Tom asks. Harry nods and reaches for his guitar without a second thought, taking it out of the case and positioning the instrument in his lap.

“This is gonna be good,” Mitch nods his head and rolls over the second chair that occupied the room. Harry shakes his head at his friends comment.

“I’ve just had this tune in my head for a couple days now, and I’ve only come up with a few lyrics really, so I don’t know how good it will be,” he explains.

Harry plays the song he’s been playing all morning for the other three in the room. The soft acoustic guitar fills the silence, the twang from his guitar strings echoing off the walls. Harry shuts his eyes and lets his voice build up as he sings the two lines he’s been thinking about for a few days now. He feels it deep in his chest, the truth behind his words. Suddenly, more lyrics filter out of his mouth that hadn’t come up before.

“I’m selfish I know,” he sings, “I’d tell you but I know you’d never listen.”

It’s not entirely the truth, because he’s sure that Y/N would listen to anything he had to say. He’s also sure that if he walked up to her right now, ran out of this studio and back to the apartment and waited outside her door, begging for her to break up with him, that she wouldn’t listen. Harry believes that she’s a better person than that - that regardless if she felt what he had over their past few encounters, she wouldn’t listen to what he wanted and would figure things out herself.

“I hope you can see, the shape that I’m in,” Tom suddenly sings along to the tune that Harry’s still playing. Harry opens his eyes in a flash and looks at his friend, but Tom’s back is already to him as he’s facing his computer again. “I have the perfect piano and drums mix for this. I’ve had it kind of hidden away for the right time and I think this is it.”

And that’s when the magic happens. Harry puts down his guitar and gets right into the lyrics, pouring himself into yet another song. He lets his feelings out about the situation he’s gotten himself into with Y/N, and mixes it with some poetry he’s written previously in his journal. You flower, you feast, is something he’s had for quite some time but had never felt it really fit into any of his other songs. And yet somehow in this song full of duck noises, a guitar solo, and many lalalala’s, it somehow found its place.

Not to mention that Mitch absolutely murders the guitar solo. His long hair acts as a curtain as he sways to the music and lets himself go. Nearly every time that Mitch goes in for a solo, he doesn’t remember what he plays because he’s in such a trance, so Tom has to play it back for him if he needs to fix anything up. Overall, the song inspired by Y/N and her shit boyfriend is pretty great.

“Anything else you’ve got to bring to the table, Harry?” Tom asks after nearly six hours of working on perfecting their new song ‘Woman’ - named solely because of the repeating of the word in the course, which was chosen because he felt like he was calling out to Y/N in this song. Saying woman over and over again at her in hopes to get her attention. He simply shrugs and stretches back into the couch, sprawling his legs out in front of him while staring down at his journal that’s sitting in his lap.

“I’ve been writing this one based off a man I see everyday during my breakfast at the cafe down the street from my apartment,” he says. Harry clears his throat and sort of talk-sings what his idea of the melody is with the lyrics he’s got. “Nine in the morning, man drops his kids off at school. And he’s thinking of you, like all of us do. Sends his assistant for coffee in the afternoon, around one thirty two.”

“Alright, I like it,” Adam nods his head.

“Who’s he thinking of?” Mitch teases, “like all of us do,” he adds with a smirk. His lips then wrap around the straw that was in the can of Pepsi he had gotten from the mini fridge a while ago. Harry rolls his eyes and kicks out his foot in order to nudge Mitch’s leg from where he’s sitting in the desk chair he’s gotten comfortable in.

“Shut up,” Harry grumbles. Adam, Mitch and Tom all chuckle at their friend’s pout, which just makes him smile. He knew that coming into the studio and writing and making music about his situation with Y/N would ultimately make it feel even a little bit better. During the making of their newest song, his friends did give him some advice.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out, H,” Adam had said with a smile.

But there’s no way of knowing how he’ll feel when he bumps into her again, whether she’s with her boyfriend or not.

It’s been a tough few days for Y/N. Not only has work been crazy because not one, but two interns got sick with a stomach bug; meaning she was currently filling their job on top of her own and running around the city - but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry.

She is in her own head again as she walks into the Gucci store on Fifth Ave. for the third time in two days. As Greg approaches her, she appreciates his light pink suit with a white ruffled shirt underneath. His bald head shines under the lights of the store, but that smile was much brighter and obviously, professionally whiten. Greg gives her a kiss on the cheek, saying they are a bit behind with her packages since it’s such a busy time for them as well. Y/N just nods and gives him a smile, accepting the flute of champagne as she takes a seat and waits. This is honestly the first time she’s gotten a chance to sit all day, but of course, she spends it zoning out on a sparkly dress hung up a few feet away from her as her mind begins to think of anything but work.

Mark and her started dating only a mere four months ago. After meeting at a bar in the Upper East Side, he practically stalked her - which isn't too hard considering her social media following - and sent her flowers to work for three days straight till she agreed to go on a date with him. Turned out that he wasn’t just some business man out on the town with some work buddies, but an heir to one of the country's biggest companies. Therefore, meaning that when the gossip started of the two of them seeing each other, Y/N’s mom was the first person to call.

“You hit the jackpot, baby!” She basically screamed into Y/N’s ear.

Y/N only rolled her eyes at her mothers words. Her mother was the typical New Jersey girl that grew up with big dreams of pinning down a wealthy New York City man - and kudos to her for doing it. Her dad, bless his heart, was an older naive man who somehow managed to fertilize her mother’s gold digging eggs and voila, Y/N was born. But with that being said, Y/N was lucky enough to have family money, so she never felt the need to be in a relationship just because a man had more in his bank account. She also had better morals than her mother, and knew that money wasn’t a factor when you really loved someone. So no, Mark was not the jackpot because of his bank account. Y/N just thought he was really nice and attractive too, so she agreed to be his girlfriend those four months ago. But it wasn’t till a month ago that that nice streak ended.

All of a sudden Y/N’s cell phone is ringing. She blinks out of her daze to realize she’s finished her glass of champagne while so deep in thought. Pulling out her phone, she looks at the screen to see it’s Mark calling. His ears must be burning, Y/N thinks.

“Hey,” Y/N answers softly, crossing a leg over the other and resting her elbow on her knee as she holds the phone to her ear.

“Hey, babe,” Mark sighs. Y/N knows right away what he’s about to tell her, all by the tone of his voice and the use of that nickname. He used it when he asked her to drive him to the airport yesterday, which he forgot to mention he needed her to do till an hour before he had to leave - resulting in Y/N being very behind on work for the day.

“How’s Arizona?” Y/N asks politely anyway, mentioning the state he was in for business this time around. He was always traveling for work; his father wants him to know all the branch executives, so therefore he’s been to pretty much every state in the country over the course of six months. The moment they started to date Y/N knew he’d be working a lot, but she didn’t expect him to be working all over the country. She’s lucky if she gets a weekend with him, and honestly, she was looking forward to the almost two weeks work free they’d be getting together. But something told her that was not going to happen.

“It’s good, hot,” he says, seeming distracted by something in the background to which he moves the phone away from his mouth to respond to someone around him. “No, no, not those, the red ones,” he orders.

“Mark?” Y/N questions, keeping her voice down as Greg and one of his associates come from the backroom then with a few boxes in hand. “I’m just a bit busy with work, was there a reason for you calling, hun?”

“Right…Well, unfortunately my time at the Arizona office will be extended. So, I’m not going to make it back to New York before Christmas,” Mark explains. Y/N frowns at his words even though it’s just as she imagined when she answered his call.

“When will you be back?” She asks, her eyebrows pulled together and lip pouting out slightly.

“That’s the thing, there’s really no point in me flying back to the East Coast so close to the holidays when I’ve got to be in Los Angeles for my family’s big festivities.”

“Oh,” Y/N says. She’s only sad for a moment, noticing that Mark is distracted by something in the background once again as his voice is muffled. “So when exactly are you planning to come back to the city, Mark?” She asks as she sits up and projects her voice louder into her phone. Greg and his associate seem to notice Y/N demeanour change, his baby blue eyes widening slightly as he sets the boxes down on the couch beside her.

“I don’t know-”

Y/N doesn’t let him speak, though, her anger getting the best of her for what feels like the millionth time since she began dating Mark. It’s so unlike her, she thinks. She shakes her head and says, “you don’t plan to come back to New York and spend any part of the holidays with your girlfriend? Your girlfriend who very much loves the holidays, by the way.”

“I’m aware of your love for the holidays, Y/N, little hard to not know when your apartment looks like a four year old decorated it with all that crap,” Mark huffs into the phone, his voice matching her tone.

“Oh my god, whatever, Mark,” Y/N snaps in a low voice, having to take a deep breath as she stares down at the floor. “Just go and have fun on the West Coast, don’t worry one bit about me ‘cause it seems you haven’t bothered to to begin with,” Y/N finds herself seething into the phone, keeping her voice low before pulling her phone away from her ear and hanging up before he can say one more thing to upset her.

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. Focusing on making her heart beat slow down and her hands to stop shaking. Did she just break up with him? No, no I didn’t say the words, I didn’t say it’s over and maybe I should have, Y/N thinks while letting out another short breath through her nose. She did not deserve this and she knew she didn’t, and yet she keeps putting up with his extended work trips and him disrespecting her opinions. Mark wanted a woman like Y/N’s mother. One that didn’t have her own hobbies and her own dreams, and who just wanted to be on his arm and live with whatever he put them through. Or did she even give him a real chance? That little voice in the back of her head, the one that was planted by her own mother, asks her.

“You look like you need another glass, mi amor,” Greg says softly, bringing her to open her eyes once more and realize that she did in fact just have a fight with her boyfriend over the phone in public. In front of a supplier too. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Thankfully, she thought of Greg as more of a friend than in a professional view. She smiles at him, forcing it, while he holds up the bottle of champagne and fills her glass.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“You’re welcome,” he nods, turning to his left to grab the second tall glass and fills it as well. Y/N chuckles as he brings it to his own mouth and has a sip. “What? The holidays are stressful, I deserve a glass too every once in a while.” Y/N only laughs again and raises her flute, Greg lifts his own to cheers her before they both take a sip. “Did you want to talk about it?” He asks after a beat of silence.

Y/N licks her lips, tasting the expensive champagne all over again. “It’s just,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair before she continues, “I thought that Mark was different when I first met him. He sent flowers to my work and took me to nice restaurants. He seemed to be really into me, and now, he’s really into his work and he thinks my love for the holidays is childish, and that my opinions and my time don’t matter. So, I’m starting to think I jumped into this relationship, maybe a bit too fast all because my mom approved of his last name and Sammy thought he was hot.” Y/N rants in a rush of words, bringing her flute to her lips afterwards for another sip.

Greg doesn’t respond right away, instead he too sips his champagne and looks around the room they sat in. He sighs and brings a hand down on Y/N’s thigh, causing her to look at him. He smiles and gives her a comforting pat.

“You are a young woman in New York City who’s really got her shit together, you know your worth, Y/N,” Greg says. Y/N mirrors his smile, feeling the back of her eyes threaten with tears at his sweet words. “You’ll know what to do about this man,” he adds with a wink. Greg removes his hand and lifts his flute to finish off his champagne. “Plus, men are trash anyways,” he mutters as his eyes wander around the room that’s quickly filling up with customers.

Y/N laughs, “yes, Greg, they can be.” She agrees. But there’s one man that comes to her mind. One with enchanting green eyes, beautiful dimples, a contagious laugh, and a certain swoon worthy accent.

And yet, Y/N is not surprised when her thoughts drift off to Harry again. In fact, she thinks about him the entire way back to her office, the few boxes from Greg in her arms as she travels on the subway and walks carefully on the slushy shovelled snow that covers the sidewalks. What is he up to today? She thinks, knowing that he must’ve gotten home from the studio late yesterday - maybe even this morning. She worked late on emails last night, only having her Christmas playlist playing softly from her TV, and she didn’t hear him get home. She wonders if he sleeps in when he does that, or if he still manages to get up early and do whatever it is he does every day. She doesn’t know his daily routine, but she admits to herself that she’s curious.

Having done the errands that were needed for the day, Y/N ends up sitting at her desk for the remaining three hours of her work day. Her and Amanda go over new interns to hire, seeing as Y/N’s boss doesn’t want her away from the office doing intern work forever. And then she and Sammy are walking out of the building together at five o’clock sharp. They endured yet another eleven hour work day today. And this was one of the easiest days this week, since it was spent shopping around and organizing the office. Tomorrow there would be two A-list clients coming in for their last styling of the year, both finalizing their outfits for the upcoming Grammy awards too.

“You seem off today,” Sammy says as they walk down the stairs to the subway.

“I, um,” Y/N licks her lips and narrows her eyes at the screen that reads when the next stop would be. She looks at her friend and sighs. “I got into a fight with Mark earlier,” she states.

“Another one?” Sammy questions, raising a brow and giving her a look that said ‘really?’.

“Yup,” Y/N says, rolling her lips into her mouth and nodding. “He’s too busy with work to come back to the city for the rest of the month, said he doesn’t see the point in coming back even for a day before he has to go back home to the West Coast. So, I ended up yelling at him in the middle of the Gucci store.”

“Are you for real?” Sammy asks in shock, his eyes widening as Y/N explains what her boyfriend had told her earlier.

“Yup,” she repeats, nodding her head again too. “Oh, and he said my apartment looked like a four year old decorated it and it looked like crap,” Y/N chuckles, realizing now how stupid Mark’s fighting words were.

“Y/N,” Sammy sighs, “dump him,” he says while placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile. “I get that you wanted to give this guy a chance, but all you guys ever do is fight and I don’t want to say it but I’m going to,” he sighs again dramatically, “I’ve seen you smile over that new neighbour of yours more than Mark in the past few weeks. That’s a sign.”

“But what if I didn’t give Mark a real chance? And what if I’m just playing Harry up in my head-”

“No, none of that,” Sammy shakes his head and stares deep into Y/N’s eyes. “You are the most polite and sweetest person I’ve ever met. There’s no way in hell you didn’t give Mark a chance, hell you gave him a million chances, let’s face it. And as for Harry, you’ll never know unless you get to know him.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as Sammy drops his hand and tilts his head to the side. She notices the platform getting busier and louder then, as the subway makes way towards them from the North. This was her ride, while Sammy had to wait another ten minutes for the one that went to Brooklyn. Y/N thinks about what Sammy had said. Maybe she did give Mark plenty of chances and maybe their time was up, but that doesn’t mean she feels comfortable jumping right back into the game of dating with Harry. Plus, how bad would that make her look. Harry would probably think she didn’t care about relationships and typically shuffled around boys, which was so far from her case. In fact it was why she was so hesitant to date Mark in the first place - she didn’t like to give her time and love to just anyone. It’s just too bad she didn’t realize that Mark wasn’t worth it sooner.

“If I’m just getting out of this relationship with Mark, I can’t just start dating Harry,” Y/N exclaims to Sammy.

“I didn’t say date him right away, I said get to know him,” Sammy states, “hang out, be his friend, and if things happen then they happen. The world works in funny ways,” Sammy says matter of factly, pointing a finger at her while she starts taking a few steps towards the subway that’s coming to a stop. “We’ll talk later! Dump the fucking guy though!” Sammy shouts as Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes while getting into the mass of people cramming on the subway.

“Yeah, dump the son of a bitch,” a croaky voice startles Y/N as she gets through the door. An elderly woman is smiling back at her, her yellow teeth contrasting against her dark skin as she smiles wickedly at Y/N. She chuckles awkwardly and nods, walking across the space to an open seat.

Opening her purse, she finds her Airpods and puts them into her ears. They connect to her phone automatically and she begins to tap on her phone, deciding on which playlist she wants to listen to on her way home. Once she clicks shuffle on her ‘girl freaking power’ playlist, she turns it all the way up and lets the anger in Halsey’s voice fuel her own anger towards her shit boyfriend. She thinks of their fights that have happened recently the whole ride on the subway, then she thinks if it’d be too cruel of her to break up with him over the phone as she walks the few blocks to her apartment building. If he broke up with me over the phone I’d be a little upset, Y/N thinks with a frown as she walks across the lobby to the elevator.

Y/N, who was so in her own world with her music still turned up all the way as a new song by Olivia O’Brien, doesn’t even realize when Harry walks up beside her. He can hear her music blasting through her earphones. He leans forwards a bit, hoping to get in her line of sight. But she is still focused on the elevator doors, nodding her head to whatever song she’s got playing. Harry’s lips tug up into a smile. When he first saw her standing there when he entered the building he got a little nervous, unsure how this interaction between them would go. Should he apologize right away for not knowing she had a boyfriend and asking her for dinner?

“Hello?” Harry sings. “Y/N?” He calls in a normal voice. This time she seems to notice that someone is beside her. She jumps slightly, placing a hand over her heart and reaches up with the other to take out an Airpod which causes her music to stop completely.

“You scared me,” she breathes out.

“Sorry,” Harry says, giving her a timid smile. “I tried getting your attention a few times, it must be a good song.”

She looks down at the earphone in her hand and nods, “uh, yeah, just really into empowering female music today.” She states.

Harry hums and nods, then the elevator opens, revealing a few people inside which causes Y/N to step towards him as they move out of the way. If he hadn’t taken a step back fast enough she'd practically be right up against him. He breathes in and smells her perfume, the intoxicating scent of rose filling his nostrils with her being so close. Y/N gives a quick ‘you’re welcome’ to the people who step out as they thank them for moving before they both step into the elevator together. Harry was too busy thinking about how close Y/N had been to step up and hit the number six button before he could. He gives her a smile in thanks.

The elevator begins to ascend as the space falls into silence between them. They’re both overthinking. What should I say? Is what is on both their minds as they pass the first floor, and then the second. Harry lets out a short breath through his nose before leaning his back against the railing.

“I’m sorry for being so clueless,” he states, pausing when Y/N’s head whips up and her eyes meet his. “I didn’t think you’d have a boyfriend and I just didn’t think twice before asking you if you wanted to get dinner,” he says, finally getting the thought off his chest.

Y/N furrows her brows, “and why did you think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend?” She asks, teasing him, but Harry’s face falls and he stands straight once again, bringing both his hands up and waves them in front of himself as if in surrender.

“Not that you’re like not pretty enough for a boyfriend, or nice enough, cause to be quite honest I would be surprised if you didn’t have a boyfriend cause you are like the prettiest girl I’ve ever met and not to mention really nice and super cool too-”

“I was just teasing you, Harry,” Y/N stops him. But his words had caused quite the feeling inside her stomach, butterflies were multiplying like it was nobody's business while she swore she felt her heartbeat in the soles of her feet.

“Oh,” he breathes out, “right. Well, still, I’m sorry.” He casts his eyes down to the floor, feeling his cheeks warm up from embarrassment. The elevator sounds a quiet bing! as the doors open for them on the sixth floor. Harry lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s once more, motioning with his hand for her to exit first. She smiles and walks out with him right behind her.

Y/N doesn’t say anything till she’s at her apartment door, her key in the lock, and she notices Harry is at his door a few feet away. She sighs and stops twisting the key, letting her shoulder sag as she looks over at Harry.

“I’m sorry too, by the way,” she says. Harry looks up at the sound of her voice, thinking she was simply going to take in her apology and go about her merry life with Mark. He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips as she leans into her door. “I should have mentioned Mark, even just in a quick comment, but honestly our relationship is sort of new and even a little non-existent at times, it seems, so I guess I was just enjoying making a new friend. I didn’t even think about it,” Y/N explains herself.

Harry takes in her words; that her relationship is new, and non-existent? He wonders what she means by that. But he can’t help but smile at her mentioning that she enjoyed becoming his friend. Harry nods his head and let’s his smile grow wider, knowing his dimples would show.

“I’d like to keep being your friend,” Y/N adds, “if that’s okay?”

“It’s totally okay,” Harry nods. Y/N smiles and nods back.

“Okay,” she says softly.

Harry fits his key into the lock without looking, keeping his eyes on Y/N’s as he notices her cheeks glowing a shade of pink. “How about a movie night? Tomorrow? If you’re not busy, of course,” Harry suggests, twisting his key and unlocking the door.

“I think I’m free. It’ll have to be Christmas themed, of course,” Y/N says, narrowing her eyes as if to challenge Harry to fight her on it - like Mark would.

“Well, yeah,” Harry scoffs, eyebrows pulled together and head shaking in faux disbelief. “Wouldn’t have it any other way during the month of December,” he adds.

Why couldn’t I have moved in like six months ago? Y/N thinks to herself as she smiles at Harry. She finds herself liking him more with every word that comes out of that pretty mouth of his. If only she had met him before she met Mark. Things would be easier, that’s for sure.

The two of them agree on a time for tomorrow, six in the evening, before saying their goodbyes and walking into their homes that were side by side. After Y/N takes off her shoes and coat, she walks towards her bedroom to get changed into some workout clothes for a quick at home video before she ate dinner. Just as she’s changing she hears the muffled sounds of Harry’s guitar - something she’s grown fond of hearing through their shared wall. Maybe she’ll get him to play her something tomorrow, she thinks with a smile.

Y/N makes her way back into her living room and starts up her workout video. She does some jumping jacks to get her warmed up, but honestly, her heart is already pounding in her chest from her interaction with Harry and the plans they have made. Without a doubt she knows she’ll be counting down the hours during her work day tomorrow till six o’clock.

Elf or Polar Express? Both were very different Christmas movies, and they were the two she was torn between taking over to Harry’s. They hadn’t talked about who’s apartment they would hang out in, but as it was ten minutes to six, she hoped to get out the door and knock on his first, in order to get the chance to ask him to play his guitar for her maybe. But that’s not how it’s going to work out because Y/N’s too busy being stuck between two of her favourite movies when suddenly, there’s a knock at her door. She frowns knowing that it’s Harry and wouldn’t get to hear him play guitar, but gets up from where she was sitting crossed legged on the floor to answer the door.

Her fuzzy socks pad across the hardwood floor as she walks to her door, peering through the peephole quickly to double check to see it was Harry. She smiles at the sight of his floppy brown hair and unlocks her door before swinging it open. Harry looks up as she opens the door, meeting her gaze for only a moment before he watches her take in his apparel.

He had thought about it for way too long, what he was to wear to hangout and watch movies with the girl he liked, but ended up staying dressed down as he was all day. Y/N liked how the plain white shirt he wore fit him, only a small brand logo that was over his heart, but she really liked the pastel rainbow coloured sweatpants he wore too. He looks comfy and ready to lay back and relax for a few hours with her. He’s not wearing any shoes though, which makes Y/N furrows her brows for a second.

“I didn’t really see any point in putting on shoes for the few feet out of my apartment,” Harry states quickly to let her know. Y/N nods, chuckling under her breath, but understanding what he means. She steps back and lets him into her home.

Harry takes in the atmosphere of Y/N’s apartment for the second time now. The glow from her many Christmas lights makes him feel warm inside, and her Christmas tree was the focal point of it all. He likes the odd ornaments that are littered among the branches, and he can’t quite make out what they all are, but something tells him that they each hold a special meaning to Y/N. Maybe some from her childhood, others from some trips she’s had - he could see her collecting them from anywhere she’s travelled to. Harry makes a mental note to ask her at one point.

“I was thinking of making some hot chocolate, and I have a bag of, like, this candy cane and white chocolate pretzels that I’ve been obsessed with lately and was going to munch on that during the movie, but I have a bunch of other snacks too, honestly,” Y/N starts to explain to Harry. He turns on his heels to see she’s already locked her door and is now moving into the kitchen.

“I’m cool with some hot chocolate,” Harry nods, “and I’ll give the pretzels a try, they sound good.”

“They are so good, oh my god,” she moans at the mere thought of eating them. Bending down to open her bottom drawer, she reveals a well organized array of munchies that looked like a stoner's heaven.

As she’s ruffling through the drawer Harry takes in her outfit. She’s got on a pair of Christmas themed pajama bottoms with little snowflakes scattered along the dark blue material that matched with her plain dark blue shirt. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun, wispy hairs falling around her face as it looks as though it’s been up all day and she hasn’t cared to fix it. Overall, she looks comfortable and at ease - as she should be in her own home. He had wondered if she ever dressed down, seeing as he had only ever seen her after a day of work dressed in trendy high fashion, but somehow casual clothing. Christmas pajamas suit her, he thinks with a smile.

Y/N gets a hold of the bag of pretzels she’s talking about and opens it, taking one out for herself right away to bite down on before turning to Harry who’s standing in her kitchen. She smiles at the pretzel and lifts the bag to him. Harry takes a few steps towards her before reaching into the bag and grabbing one for himself. He brings it to his mouth and Y/N watches for his reaction. His jaw flexes as he chews down on the sweet yet salty treat.

Harry hums and nods, reaching into the bag again, “not bad,” he says before chewing on another one. Y/N smiles and passes him the bag all together, turning towards the stove top to turn on the kettle already filled with water.

“Can you find two mugs in that cabinet?” Y/N asks Harry as she looks to her left and sees him standing in front of the cabinet that held her many mugs and glasses. She points to it and Harry nods. He puts the bag of pretzels down after sneaking one last one into his mouth, and opens the cabinet door to reveal Y/N’s collection of mugs. He goes for the two at the front, which were Christmas themed, of course; one shaped like the Grinch and the other like Santa. As he sets them down on the counter in front of him, beside the bag of pretzels that he sticks his hand into again, he notices a glass container full of brown powder that he assumes is her hot chocolate mix.

“Is this your hot chocolate mix?” He asks, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, “I honestly make myself a cup almost every night during the colder seasons.”

“Are you a coffee or tea person?” Harry asks, keeping his eyes on the container as he twists it open and sees a metal teaspoon measuring cup inside already. He starts to scoop some into each mug as he waits for Y/N’s answer. Although he is very aware of her possibly liking coffee, considering how he’s seen her with many Starbucks cups before.

“Yeah, I enjoy both too. I have way too much coffee during my work days, and tea reminds me of the days at my grandparents,” she explains, watching Harry scoop her preferred amount of mix into each mug without even asking. She smiles softly, seeing him reach for yet another pretzel too.

“Are you saying tea is for old people?” Harry questions, raising a brow as he peers at Y/N in the corner of his eye. Y/N rolls her eyes, a smile still on her lips. Her kettle begins to squeal into the air, but she’s quick to turn and take it off the heat. She turns off the stove and uses a tea towel to bring it over to the mugs - Harry steps back out of her way, but not before grabbing the bag of pretzels.

“Old people and the British too, of course,” Y/N teases.

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says in agreement. He waits till Y/N fills the mugs and sets the kettle back down on the stovetop before he steps back to the counter and wraps a hand around the handle of the Grinch mug. Y/N is quick, stepping towards him and gently slapping his hand.

Harry flinches his hand away and raises a brow at Y/N, jokingly taken back by her action. Y/N bites down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from giggling over how cute that look on his face was.

“I have whipped cream that’s in a can, but it’s still good,” Y/N states, giving him a look that said ‘back off and let me do this’. Harry only chuckles again and nods. “Also slow down on the pretzels, if I don’t get any during the movie I’ll be very upset.”

“They’re addicting, sorry,” Harry mumbles through his mouth full of pretzels, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Trust me, I know. That’s like my fourth bag this week, I swear,” she states with a chuckle.

As Y/N walks to her fridge Harry steps up to the mugs once more and takes a chance on the drawer directly under them for a spoon. His instincts are right as he pulls the drawer open to see her utensils; he grabs a teaspoon in order to stir the hot chocolate. Y/N turns back from the fridge with the whipped cream can in hand, turning around to see Harry focused on the mugs. She smiles, tilting her head as she watches him nudge the drawer closed with his hip, and begin to stir the contents of them till the powder was all mixed in with the water. Look at them being all domestic, she thinks. Licking her lips, she shakes her head a little and walks up to Harry, shaking the can of whipped cream and waits for him to finish stirring. He sets the spoon in the sink and watches as Y/N tops off the mugs with a heap of whipped cream.

“You better actually eat the whipped topping this time,” Harry says to her teasingly, referring to when they had hot chocolate in the park, and she let her whipped cream melt. Y/N chuckles and brings the tip of the whipped cream can to her open mouth.

She puts pressure on the top again and makes the sweet cream pile into her mouth as she tips her head back, the aerosol can is the only noise in the room as Harry watches her do it. His breath catches in his throat and he blinks several times as he imagines an entirely different scenario with this whipped cream can and her mouth. Y/N brings the whipped cream away from her mouth and swallows, watching Harry do the same thing - did she make him feel uncomfortable? She thinks to herself as she licks her lips and looks down at the ground. Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it, she thinks while walking back to the fridge to return the whipped cream to the shelf. When she turns back, she sees that Harry has both mugs in his hands.

“Maybe I should just have both of these, since you’re probably full from that mouth full of whipped cream,” Harry teases her, bringing both mugs to his lips, acting as if he’s going to slurp up the whipped topping that’s nearly flowing over the side.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N gasps, reaching forward quickly for the Grinch mug, but Harry moves it out of her grasp faster.

“I want the Grinch one,” he says with a slight whine to his voice. Y/N can’t stop the giggle this time, blushing afterwards as she thinks of how freaking adorable he is.

“Fine,” she sighs and takes the Santa mug from him instead.

Harry grins and lets her lead the way back into her living room, the bag of pretzels in his other hand. Y/N sets her mug down on the coaster on the coffee table, just like she had with her glass of wine the last time Harry was over. He watches as she sits cross legged on the floor in front of her tv stand. Y/N grabs the two movies she was debating over earlier in each hand and lifts them up for Harry to see. He loves them both of course.

“Which one? I can’t decide,” Y/N states. Harry hums and lifts his mug to his lip to slurp up some whipped cream.

“Elf,” Harry answers, “I’m in a Will Ferrel comedy kind of mood,” he adds.

“Alright,” Y/N chuckles under her breath and turns away from Harry to open her DVD player and then open the case for Elf. He liked that she had the movies on physical DVD, not just clicking away on a streaming app. She places the DVD in the player and then closes it again before standing up quickly and skipping over to the couch, plopping down excitedly but gently that Harry isn’t even scared that he’ll spill his hot chocolate.

“We can watch the other one next time,” Harry suggests, feeling brave in the moment as the trailers start to play softly on the screen and Y/N is reaching for the remote that sat on the coffee table. She looks at him and smiles.

“‘kay, yeah, next time,” she pauses but then points the remote at Harry. “But next time you’re hosting, I feel like we should switch it up sometimes,” she adds and waits to see Harry nod with a smile before she turns to the TV and gets to the main menu of the movie.

“Fair, I just think my place lacks the holiday cheer that we would want,” Harry explains. Y/N stops her from hitting play right away and leans back into the couch, flopping her head to the side to look at Harry. He’s still holding his mug, which reminds her that her own is sitting there untouched, so she sits up again and grabs it.

“Well you know what would fix that?” She questions, bringing the mug to her lips and slurping up some of the whipped cream that was in fact already melting. Harry watches her as her eyes are glued to her mug, focused on not spilling it over the sides it seems.

“Decorations?” He asks, still watching her. He smiles as she licks her upper lip that’s covered in melting whipped cream.

“Exactly,” she nods enthusiastically. She takes another few sips of her hot chocolate before leaning back into her couch once again, getting all snuggled up before lifting the remote to the TV and hitting play.

“I’m not really good with decorating - my sister and mom did my apartment to be honest,” Harry admits. Y/N watches the opening scene of one of her favourite Christmas movies, feeling all giddy inside as it’s the first time she’s watching it this holiday season. She gets like this every year with every holiday movie.

“Well, I can help you out. Maybe we can do a little trip to Target before our next movie night. Then do a quick set up and then watch the movie after,” Y/N suggests, nervously peering over at Harry over the rim of her mug after. She doesn’t know if she’s crossing a line or anything. She just wants to spend more time with him, even if it’s just as friends.

Harry gives Y/N a half smile, one of his dimples making an appearance as he looks into her eyes. He would love that, honestly. The idea of them wandering through the Christmas isles at Target as she gives him advice on what decorations would go together and fit his apartment style; they would set up the decorations after and he’d watch her be in her element. Maybe he’d put on some Christmas music and hope she would dance around. Harry gives Y/N a short nod.

“I like that plan,” Harry tells her.

Y/N smiles and nods back at him. “Then it’s a deal, we’ll set a time after the movie. It’s about to get good,” she says, looking back at the TV screen again as Will Ferrel’s character makes his appearance.

“The whole movie is good,” Harry states.

“Shh,” Y/N hushes him, taking another sip of her drink and keeping her eyes on the movie. Harry smiles and watches her watch Elf. He notices her hand gently tapping the cushion between them after a moment. Harry chuckles under his breath and nudges the bag of pretzels open, taking a few for himself before facing the bag her way. Once she’s got one between her teeth she feels completely content.

She’s got a cup of yummy hot chocolate, her favourite snack, Christmas lights are twinkling around her, one of her favourite Christmas movies is playing, and she’s with good company too. In fact, she finds herself not once thinking of Mark the rest of the night. Even in her dreams, it’s Harry, again.

They exchanged phone numbers. It’s not a big deal, Harry thinks to himself as he gets a third text from his newest contact in his phone. But it felt like a big deal; it was an easy way to get a hold of her whenever he needed to or wanted to even. Not that he would just bother her for no good reason. As much as he’d like to text with her all day, he knows that they really just exchanged phone numbers in order to plan to hangout easily. Like for today, Y/N had a long work day, but still wanted to take Harry Christmas decor shopping, so she was asking him if he could just meet her at the closest Target.

There’s one a few blocks away from the apartment, I’ll send you the location, are you able to meet me there? She texts along with a Google Maps link to the store. Harry tapped out a response right away, letting his focus sway away from the TV show he had on when her name lit up his screen.

Sounds good to me, what time? Harry hits send and notices the bubble with three dots pop up right away. She must have a moment at work right now; he checks the time to see it’s just past noon, assuming she’s on her lunch break.

I should be leaving the office by 3pm today, then it’s like a 15 minutes subway ride and 5 minute walk to get there for me. So like 3:30ish, is that okay with you? Wait. Are you busy today? I didn’t even ask if you were working too, sorry. She sends the texts in a few separate bubbles, realizing that she didn’t even ask if Harry was working or not today. Y/N has no idea what the schedule of a songwriter was like. Harry chuckles at her little panic and types out his response.

Super busy…. Watching mindless TV shows on Netflix. He adds a laughing emoji for good measure, to which Y/N replies with some of her own laughing emojis before saying God I wish that was how my day was going.

Y/N ends up texting Harry her whole lunch break. He asks about what she’s been doing today, his responses seeming very interested in the adventures she has had in the office being a stand in model since her measurements were close to a clients. She then asks what show he’s watching, to which he tells her about this Netflix baking show called Sugar Rush and he tells her about the challenge the contestants on the most recent episode endured. Y/N finds herself smiling at her screen, nearly forgetting to even eat her lunch. Sammy clears his throat just a few minutes before their time is up and causes her to look up at him, raising her eyebrows at his own.

“What?” She asks, stabbing her fork into the salad she had Sammy pick up for her earlier.

“Nothing,” Sammy hums, Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just noticed you’ve been quite busy on that phone of yours for the past, oh, I don’t know, twenty five minutes,” Sammy teases her, eyes widening slightly and motioning his hands in the air with his words. He did that a lot, talking with his hands, that is.

“So?” Y/N tries to brush off her friend's pushy behaviour.

“So? Really? We’re just going to act as if you’re not giggling at your phone screen like a little school girl?” Sammy questions.

“I am not doing that,” Y/N huffs.

“Yeah, sure, sweetie and I’m straight,” Sammy rolls his eyes dramatically and then pouts while shaking his body in his seat. Y/N furrows her brows at his behaviour. “I live off your love life. Please give me something, anything. Please just tell me that you’re talking to that hot neighbour of yours and let me continue on my merry little day knowing that your love life is about to be thriving while mine is dead.”

Y/N sighs and tries to ignore as her phone vibrates again, signalling that Harry had texted her back. She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over his chest, covering the deep v-cut of her black body suit that she was wearing with a pair of red slim legged slacks, and a matching red blazer that was currently laying over the back of the chair she sat in. Amanda didn’t have any sort of dress code for work, merely to come in looking professional and stylish, which for Y/N, meant a good pant suit moment every once in a while. But with still keeping it sexy and young by pairing it with a bodysuit.

“Fine, I’m texting Harry,” Y/N tells Sammy, feeding into his gossip need for the day. “We actually hung out two night ago, he came over for a movie night-”

“What?! Why am I just hearing about this now?” Sammy questions, sitting up quickly and throwing his hands in the air. “What happened? Touching? Did you kiss? Oh my lord, tell me what his peni-”

“Sammy! Oh my god, relax, please,” Y/N cuts him off, putting a hand up to stop him from talking. “Nothing happened. Sorry to disappoint, but I am still in a relationship with Mark. Harry just came over, we made some hot chocolate and polished off a bag of those delicious candy cane pretzels.”

“Those pretzels are good,” Sammy nods in agreement.

“Yeah,” Y/N nods, “but anyways, nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen. We’re just friends, and I enjoy being around him a lot. So, today after work we’re going to Target to buy his apartment some decorations, then we’ll probably order in some food and watch another movie.”

��Sounds pretty couple-y to me,” Sammy says in a high pitched tone. Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her friend again.

Y/N couldn’t lie, though. The few hours later in Target, they looked like a couple. Harry pushes the cart down the aisle while she tilts her head and debates which tinsel really fit Harry’s aesthetic. She brings the Starbucks cup to her lips and sips the warm caramel flavoured latte. Y/N was pleasantly surprised when she saw Harry walking up to her outside the Target with two Starbucks holiday cups in his hand. He gave her a timid smile and explained what both of the drinks were, saying he hadn’t tasted either and wanted to see what she wanted first before taking the other for himself. It was unexpected and ridiculously sweet of him to do.

“I think red would look really nice around your apartment, kind of spice up the place a little,” Y/N explains, her free hand skimming over the many different tinsels that were hanging up before her. Harry agrees, red would look nice in his apartment and spice things up a lot, except his mind is thinking of this red pant suit she’s wearing right now. He thinks it would look rather nice on his bedroom floor.

When she walked up to him and he took in her outfit, he nearly tripped over his own feet and spilled the two coffees he brought with him. But he kept himself together, well, sort of. He stumbled over his words, rambled like a fool about why he got the two coffees for her, but they finally got into the store, which now, he’s just been checking her out as they walked to the Christmas section. Get it together, Harry thinks to himself.

“Red’s nice,” Harry says, his voice cracking slightly. So, he clears his throat and steps away from the cart to pick up a piece of tinsel that Y/N was looking at. “I like the bit of silver mixed in too,” he comments.

“I was thinking the same thing,” she says with a smile before grabbing four more of the same one and adding it to the cart. Harry does the same with the one in his hand and then puts his hands on the cart once more, pushing it back and forth just a few inches. Harry can’t stop himself from admiring that suit once more as she bends down to check out the many different boxes of tree ornaments.

“Which ones?” Y/N asks, quickly turning her body. Y/N catches his gaze on her body, but Harry blinks quickly and meets her stare. The corner of her lips tug up into a smug smile at the thought of Harry checking her out.

“The ones in your, uh, your right hand,” Harry answers her questions, clearing his throat again and watching as she stands straight before putting the ornaments into the cart.

They continue their way through Target, still looking very much like a couple as they grab a few bags of the candy cane pretzels that Y/N got Harry hooked on the other night before heading to the check out. Harry insists on paying for the few little items of Y/N’s in the cart, telling her over and over again that it wasn’t a huge deal. He almost doesn’t let her carry a single thing, but she quickly gets a hold of a standing Santa decoration that was too big for a bag and hugs it to her chest their whole walk home.

Harry unlocks his apartment door for them, noticing how their neighbour Mr Matthers is opening his at the same time to peer out and see who’s in the hallway. Harry holds open the door for Y/N, she thanks him in a small voice and smiles at him. Looking back out into the hallway, Harry waves at Mr Matthers, who simply returns it with a scowl on his face before Harry steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Suppose their neighbour is a bit jealous of Harry, he’s seen the way he looks at Y/N. Hell, especially today in that suit, everyone on the street was looking at Y/N with wide eyes and big smiles - Harry felt like quite the lucky guy, little did everyone know they were in fact not together. Just friends, Harry reminds himself for the millionth time.

“Oh, I love the tree,” Y/N states, her voice bringing Harry back to Earth as he locks the door and walks over to his coffee table to set down the many bags in his arms. Y/N is still holding the Santa decoration to her chest, looking at the fake Christmas tree he had purchased on Amazon yesterday on a whim. He was thinking about them decorating together again, and thought that it wouldn’t feel right if he didn't have a tree too. It’s a good thing he told Y/N over text, otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten ornaments or anything for it.

“Yeah, I just got the first one that included lights on Amazon, to be honest,” Harry tells her. Y/N chuckles and walks over, setting the Santa decoration just beside the tree gently.

She brushes a hand over the tree and smiles, “it’s wonderful, really pulls the whole festive look together in my opinion.”

“I agree,” Harry nods. He grabs for the TV remote and turns it on, quickly turning the volume down before he sets it up to the music channels - clicking on the Christmas tunes without a second thought. Y/N watches Harry, her heart hammering in her chest as the soft sounds of Michael Buble fills the room. Mark would never do any of this - he wouldn’t voluntarily put on Christmas music, ever. In fact, he shut off the station in her car on the way to the airport. And he definitely wouldn’t decorate with her either, seeing as he thinks that her apartment looks childish. She pouts at the thought of her and Mark’s phone call the other day. He hasn’t called or texted her since.

“Did you not want to listen to Christmas music?” Harry asks suddenly, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts and turns to look at him. He’s taking off his jacket, revealing a white shirt underneath with a bumble bee and some blue writing around it, paired with his purple trousers and a pair of white socks on his feet after slipping out of his shoes too. Y/N loves his simple yet not basic style.

“No, no,” Y/N assures him, finally unbuttoning her blazer now and taking off the mittens and beanie she had worn in the cold. She stuffs them into the blazer pocket and slips out of it. “I love Christmas music so much, honestly maybe a little too much, Mark hates it,” she admits.

A shiver falls over her body as she realizes then she’s simply in the rather thin bodysuit that also dipped very low in the front. Y/N doesn’t look at Harry as she feels her nipples harder from the coolness of his apartment, embarrassed as she didn’t prepare for her attire after going out. Harry suddenly lifts up a hand, his pointer finger up as if to say ‘one second’, then he’s walking down the hallways and returns not even a minute later with a black sweater in hand.

“It’s clean, just washed today, I promise,” Harry tells her, holding out one of his favourite jumpers for her. He had been given a few merchandising pieces from the label over the years and this plain black jumper that read ‘Columbia’ on the front in white has been in his possession for a couple years now. In his opinion, it was very comfortable due to how much he’s worn it.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly while taking it from him.

She puts it on and is immediately warmer. Her hands cover completely because of how long the sleeves are and it falls down past her bum too, due to the large size. She looks good, Harry thinks as he takes in her wearing his clothing. Y/N smiles and turns to grab things from the Target bags they had just brought in.

“Okay, let’s begin with the tree then,” she says excitedly, trying to clap her hands together but just ends up smacking the sleeves of Harry’s hoodie together.

It’s just as Harry imagined it. The soft lights from the Christmas tree glow over the shadows of Y/N’s face as she wraps the red tinsel around the base of it before passing it to Harry in order for him to reach the taller portion of the tree. She dances when Jingle Bell Rock plays on the TV, his jumper swaying around her body because of how big it is on her. They’re both smiling and singing along to the music, jokingly of course. Harry wasn’t about to show her all his little secrets and start belting out White Christmas along with the singers of Wham!

“Can you pass me a couple of the silver balls?” Y/N asks Harry, her eyes on the tree as she put the last red ball ornament she had grabbed onto a branch. Harry raises his eyebrows in a joking manner.

“The what?” He questions, but still making his way to where the array of different coloured ball ornaments laid on the couch.

“Like two of the balls,” she says again. Harry laughs, his eyes crinkling up and his dimples fully showing as he does. Y/N furrows her brows, but then gets why he’s laughing. “You’re a child,” she scolds him playfully.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry states, grabbing two of the ornaments she’s asking for and passing them to her.

“Thank you for the balls, Harry,” she says. They both end up laughing this time, she can’t help it. His laughter is contagious with how his eyes squint up and his dimple somehow deepens, not to mention the little vocal ‘aha’ he does before laughing. It makes Y/N’s stomach ache, not from laughing too, but with the butterflies. Those stupid little butterflies that have made a home inside of her stomach since meeting this kind, handsome, British man.

Once the tree is done, Y/N beats Harry to ordering them food. They decide on getting sushi, which is something she could never order with Mark since he has this personal vendetta against seafood for some reason. But Mark isn’t on her mind for long. It’s all Harry, all the freaking time. She likes how he beams a winning smile at the delivery guy and thanks him three times in the sixty seconds he’s at his door, and how he barely pays his phone any attention the whole night besides when it chimes with a few texts that he explains is his workmates group chat. Now, she can’t stop watching him chew his food; how his jaw flexes with each bite and how his eyebrows furrow when he can’t get the chopsticks to grab the California roll he wanted. Why do I find him eating so attractive? Y/N shakes her head slightly and forces herself to look back at the TV that’s playing the Sugar Rush show on Netflix that Harry was texting her about earlier.

Harry collects their take out containers after a few moments to ensure that Y/N is done, asking her just to be sure she doesn’t want the two pieces that are left over. She thanks him, but says no, and he manages to grab all five containers in one trip to the kitchen. His mom most definitely raised him well, Y/N thinks as she lays back on his couch and watches the TV show. It suddenly hits Y/N, his brows pulling together as she pushes herself to sit up and turns her body to look behind her through the open concept to look at Harry.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” She asks him. Y/N assumed home was England, besides obvious factors, but she remembers him telling her about driving in London once. Harry brushes his hands on a tea towel that's hanging off his stove before turning to walk back into the living room.

“Um, no, not this year,” Harry says.

“Oh, do you typically go home and visit your family? You mentioned your mom and sister had decorated this place though, do they live here?” She throws the other questions his way as he walks around the couch and sits in his spot again.

“They all live in England, yeah,” he nods, “my mom, my step dad, older sister and her boyfriend all flew out here with me to help me settle in the few years back when I got my job. But I do usually go home for holidays, or just casually during the summer. Earlier this year I had to make an unexpected trip,” Harry pauses and clears his throat as he looks away from Y/N as he feels that familiar pain in his chest, “my step dad passed away. So it just took a bit of money out of my account, I decided not to fork out the money for expensive flights during the holidays.”

Hearing that Harry had lost his step dad recently torn Y/N’s heart in two. She frowns, taking a deep breath before reaching over and placing a hand over Harry’s that rested folded in his lap. Harry looks at where their skin touched, it felt like his hands were vibrating under her touch. She swipes her thumb over his knuckles, the touch so soft like a feather just barely skimming over his skin. Harry has to stop himself from flipping his hand over slowly and intertwining their fingers together. She has a boyfriend, she’s just being a good person and comforting a friend.

“I’m very sorry to hear about your step dad, Harry,” she soft and gentle voice, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his knuckle again as she watches him inhale deeply through his nose.

Harry clears his throat of the threatening tears and shakes his head slightly, a piece of his hair falling onto his forehead as he does. He takes one of his hands and lays it over Y/N’s, giving it a few pats. Tonight had been good

and fun, and he didn’t want to go ruining the mood with his tears. So, he lifts his head and looks at Y/N, finding her somber eyes staring at him already. He forces a smile, licking his lips before clearing his throat again.

“Thank you,” he says, “I don’t want to make this good night all emotional now, so yeah, the short answer is I’m not leaving the city for the holidays this year. I do have a trip planned in March to see my mum for mothers day though,” Harry explains, rubbing Y/N’s hand that’s between his.

Y/N mirrors his smile, although it’s not as full as usual, a bit sad still as she thinks about what Harry and his family must’ve gone through this year - and that his mother won’t see her son her first Christmas without her husband to top it all off. Maybe she could buy his flights? But no, no she couldn’t, she thinks sadly. They sit there like that for another moment, her hand between his much larger once, and they stare at each other. Finally, Y/N lets out a sigh and tries to get out of her head before she ends up crying. Harry lets go of her hand slowly, and she brings both hands to her face to brush back her hair. Harry does the same to get the strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead back into place.

“Well I’m glad you can go see your mom for mothers day, at least,” Y/N says, looking at the positive. Harry nods and then leans back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch to stretch out.

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees, “she’s already telling me all about the plans she’s made for my trip and talks my ear right off as if it’s happening tomorrow.” Harry tells Y/N with a chuckle.

Hearing his little laugh brings a real smile to her face this time. “I’m sure she’s counting the days till you fly in,” Y/N says. She is starting to feel a little tired as she lays back on the couch, laying her legs out on the chaise. Harry watches as she pulls the sleeves of his jumper back down, she had rolled them up while eating so they didn’t get in the way, but he likes the sweater paw look on her as she snuggles into the couch.

“Do you spend Christmas at home still?” Harry asks her, keeping his voice soft as he realizes it’s gotten late and both their eyelids are getting heavy.

“My parents have something on Christmas Eve, sometimes I spend the night, other times I make my way home,” she exclaims vaguely.

Y/N doesn’t love her times at home anymore; she finds her parents ‘I’m too rich for anything' attitude to be tiresome. As she grew up into her own person, she realized the privilege she had with the wealth she grew up with. She started to see how pointless some parties her mother threw, and how little she would have to try to just coast through life. Y/N didn’t want to grow up like every other bratty kid on the Upper East Side, so she moved out right after graduation, got into fashion school, focused on herself, and earned her own money - all while learning of how to use her privilege for good, like donating her time and money to good causes. Something her parents only did to look good within their social circle.

So, going back home for over the top holiday parties, getting gifted a new car every year, and seeing her parents throw their money at whatever, really only bothered her more than anything. Y/N would simply stop in for Christmas Eve, enjoy a few hours with family and then go home to her own world again.

A yawn slips past Y/N’s mouth as she’s deep in thought, which then makes Harry yawn as the both of them bring their hands to cover their mouth and then letting out soft laughter afterwards. Y/N sits up and stretches both arms above her head. “I guess I should head home,” she says before standing up slowly.

“Yeah, you’ve got a long way to go,” Harry jokes.

“Oh yeah, it’ll take me ages,” Y/N adds onto the joke with a smile. “Thank you for having me over, I really enjoyed it,” she says.

Harry nods, “well thank you for helping me with all this,” he says, motioning to the decorating they had done. They both glance around the room then at their work. The red and silver decor matched Harry’s aesthetic perfectly, just as Y/N thought it would.

“We didn’t watch Polar Express,” Y/N realizes suddenly, pouting.

“Next time, Y/N,” Harry chuckles. She huffs and lets out a sigh, muttering a quiet ‘fine’ before making her way towards his front door. Harry follows behind her, planning to lock the door and listen till she gets into her own apartment before getting ready for bed.

“Should I text you when I’m home safe? It’s just so far away,” Y/N continues to joke around, causing Harry to smile as he watches her grab her blazer and slip into her shoes.

“You never know, Mr Matthers across the hall could intercept you on the way home and kidnap you. I wouldn’t sleep till I got that text knowing you got home safely,” Harry says, half joking. Cause you never know with Mr Matthers, he thinks. Y/N laughs and hugs her blazer to her stomach while standing beside the door, reaching for the handle but keeping her gaze on him.

“Mr Matthers is harmless,” Y/N says.

“He’s obsessed with you,” Harry counters back. Y/N just rolls her eyes and unlocks the door before swinging it open.

“Goodnight Harry,” she says sweetly.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry says back with a smile. She mirrors his smile and then walks off into the hallway. Harry watches the door shut behind her and walks over to lock it before turning off the few lights in the living room and entryway. As he is turning off his TV his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

Made it home safely and in bed! Sweet dreams read Y/N’s text sent seconds ago. Harry breathes out a chuckle as he walks down the hallway to his bathroom to begin his nightly routine. As he turns on the light for his bathroom he types back a response. Cheeky.. Sweet dreams Y/N. He turns off the screen before he stands there and waits for her to reply with anything, his heart would even flutter over an emoji.

He was so far gone for this girl, he couldn’t stop himself from falling any longer - but it had felt inevitable from the moment his eyes had met hers in the elevator.

>> part three <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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keytomythoughts · 3 years

Text

Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually.

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu)

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

Funny

Yk I can’t move out, at least not on my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

What about Jaehyun?

Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

They’re just hell-bent on me getting into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

Me crying and stuffing myself with pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

And that’s bc you were there dumbass and half of the time ur either in oppa’s room or out somewhere

Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

I miss y’all :’(

Ok I should be there around like 5 ish so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol

See? My point exactly

Your fAcE scared off every girl in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

I almost feel bad for them, u little heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

Rlly?!?

YAH

U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

U JERK HOW COULD U??

Those poor girls omg

Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

Can it u demon

Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated.

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends.

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side.

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another.

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?”

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.”

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.”

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away.

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.”

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.”

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation.

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide.

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?”

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!”

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail.

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul.

What can I say? It’s a talent.

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder.

“Good to be back,” I whisper.

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment.

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat.

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

#moonbin x oc #moonbin ff #moonbin fic #moon bin #cha eunwoo #jung jaehyun #astro #nct #fanfiction #my writings #mine

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

When Naruto let go of that pitch, Sakura knew their school had won. She hugged Hinata who was also overjoyed, and she turned to her side to give Sasuke a high five then she realized he was still not back.

As she moved along the bleachers, she rallied her schoolmates to give a resounding yell routine. Disappearing within the noise, she moved along the halls below the benches, and there she found the group.

When the fist made contact with her face, she almost blacked out. The pain came rushing in after a few seconds of numbness, her sight a complete blur, a slight disorientation, and her hearing muffled. The scuffle played out before her as her eyes refocused, Sasuke kicking and punching the goons on the stomach, but it seemed she got it wrong when Kakashi’s eyes drifted to her as a pair of glaring daggers.

His one foot was on the wrist of the guy who punched her. When the blood finally dripped from her broken nostrils, Kakashi broke the guy’s hand, thankfully echoed by the screams from the bleachers. “You’ll get expulsion and multiple restraining orders just for the hell of it.”

While Kakashi called the security, Sasuke went to Sakura’s side with a mix of an irritated but worried look on his face. Ah, he was wondering why.

“I’m okay,” she tried to say despite receiving no question, but the words came out wrong. Oh my gods, are my teeth broken? How embarrassing?

As if summoned by her thoughts, he stood before them right after the guards took away the passed-out bullies. “Let’s get you two to the clinic.”

--------------------------------

“I can’t call Naruto. I left my bag with Hinata,” she tried to say again but the words were coming out jumbled like I con kor Nar-u-o…I re ma ba wi Hina-a…

Kakashi was trying not to laugh as she communicated with Sasuke who was on the other bed, being checked by a doctor with curtains drawn. The school clinic recommended them to go directly to the hospital.

“He would have to wait for our congratulations,” Sasuke replied.

“I see you wincing in pain, young man. That’s a broken rib right there,” the doctor noted from the other side. When the curtains were swept to the side, Sakura saw her raven-haired classmate clutching at his side. When his eyes opened to find hers, he glanced away and let go of his pained expression.

“Ms. Haruno, I will be referring you to our plastics. Would be a waste if your student council president loses her pretty face.” The doctor tapped Kakashi’s shoulder as she walked out of their ward.

“Thanks, Nohara,” he called out after her.

Sakura deduced he was friends with the doctor, but she could ask him that some other time. She looked a bit older than the Math teacher so they might not be together. Regardless, shouldn’t she be more engrossed of having a crooked nose in front of Kakashi than his personal love life? When he turned her attention to her finally, she instinctively covered her face with her hands.

“Sakura, you should tilt your head upwards, just a little bit. You had a nosebleed earlier, didn’t you?” She did what he said, but gods, this was so embarrassing. She tried to look at him through her fingers, and his beauty mark moved as he chuckled. Ugh, why is he so perfect?

His phone suddenly pinged, and he took a moment to read the message. “Hmm. I need to leave and go explain things to the board. Nohara might advise bed rest and school leave for at most three weeks so get well soon, all right?” Then, he turned to Sasuke. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Sakura wondered if she should ask a favor from Kakashi. Asking him to stay was a tad too much, and asking him to contact the council would be too irresponsible. Maybe she could sneak out after his exit and find a way to contact the council. She should also call Naruto – second on the task list. He would be devastated without their congratulations.

A hand on her head stopped her thoughts. “Stop thinking at hundred miles per second, and rest. I will take care of the council and inform Uzumaki of your situation. I assume you three are friends?”

“No.” “Yes.” Sasuke and Sakura answered respectively.

Kakashi smiled, finding amusement in their dynamics. “See you soon.”

“Shi yo,” she muttered through her broken nose, unaware of her fingers already fidgeting the rubber band on her wrist.

--------------------------------

She was back in the hospital the following week. While Sasuke was advised to be confined, she was sent for home care. The mandated rest did not even last a day because she needed to show up to her shifts in the café and showed up she did in some elaborate mask to cover her bandaged nose and a sketchpad for conversations. To appease the constant nag and flood of messages from her councilmates, she stopped showing up in school for three days and turned the tables on them by doing all the nagging and demanding daily updates.

On the fourth day, she was up and running through the school halls to reach the board inquisition in time. She gladly accepted an annoyed litany of precautions and reminders from Kakashi.

“I never thought you could be this stubborn, Sakura.” He was visibly exasperated. “I can’t tail you every time and remind you that you’re injured.”

But you could. “I’m sorry, Sensei. I promise to not push myself so hard for the next days.” Sakura gave him a peace sign which he jokingly waved away.

“Pull your energy back, like 60 percent of it.” He patted her head softly, like an adult would to an unreasonable kid, and never have she felt more insulted. “If only I could take care of you.”

Like a babysitter would? She immediately put distance between them, feeling angry for no reason, and she stormed off, leaving him clueless in the middle of the hallway about her sudden rigid behavior.

Now she was back in the hospital after a week of mild recuperation. When she went to check on Sasuke, she found him asleep, probably from the sedatives. It amused her that even in slumbers, his brows would furrow, yet a part of her worried that there must be something looping him in nightmares. She left her presence with a basket of fruits and a medium-sized carton of tomato juice which Naruto mentioned was his favorite. Several juice boxes of the same flavor were stacked on the other side of his bed and a plastic bag filled with instant ramen bowls. She would ask the maintenance staff later to take out the trash.

When she finally reached the door of Dr. Aki Nohara, her assistant gestured for her to wait for a while outside. She figured she can loiter in Sasuke’s room and have one of the nurses get her until she heard Kakashi’s voice inside the room.

“I know you literally accelerated throughout school, but you need to act more like your age.” Her doctor scolded her teacher like an old friend. She was aware of her eavesdropping, but she hoped to learn more of his life. “I’m saying you should visit Rin.”

“Does she miss me?” It was and wasn’t his voice. She didn’t hear his usual nonchalance when he blurted out those words. Ah, a weird ache was forming in her chest.

“Do you even need to ask that from me when the answer is already so obvious?”

“Hmm. I’m just not ready….yet.”

“Well get on with it and put a ring on her finger or others will!”

Ah, her sensei was apparently planning to get married? So he had someone after all, someone named Rin. Sakura felt the room crowd her in, almost suffocating her, and she accidentally bumped into a passing staff and a tray cart of medical supplies.

Her small disturbance brought the occupants outside the room. “Ah, Ms. Haruno, you may come in now. You look pale, dear.”

Kakashi waved at her, his teacher persona already up in arms, then he turned to Dr. Aki. “Your medical advice for my heart is noted, but not now, maybe in the far, far, far future.”

Dr. Aki tsked at him. “Off you go Hatake. I have a patient waiting. Oh thank heavens, the color is returning to your face.”

He’s not marrying her……yet. Would it be silly to think I have a chance?

--------------------------------

A whole two weeks have gone in secluded rooms – a week alone in a hospital room because of Itachi’s connections and another week alone cooped up in his apartment. He got radio silence from his brother, and he almost wished he gave him an earful of insults instead – many of which should have called out his cowardice, especially when the clash had an avoidable casualty. He looked so stupid next to cool Kakashi, Kakashi who was only five years older than them, Kakashi who smoked and read with baseball playing on the background, Kakashi who took on all four people at once with no scratch on his body, Kakashi with his silver hair being friends with doctors and bigshots, Kakashi with his beauty mark laughing at Sakura.

If there was any further downside to this, that was also the angry flood of texts he got from Naruto the night of the game, and then nothing. He was too drugged with sedatives he didn’t have the right mind to reply and process them. He was too drugged to wake up with a clear mind even. He didn’t bother to text or call back. Whatever, whatever, whatever. He took a look again at his phone, checked the time, found no new messages, and put it back on his side table.

His past self would have enjoyed this momentary social isolation, but he couldn’t help the nagging feeling of missing company however, he can’t bring himself to admit this aloud.

The next time he opened his eyes, he scrambled out of bed in panic and cold sweat. Someone was incessantly ringing his doorbell. When his eyes tried to find the clock, he found that it was already eight in the evening. He was sure he wasn’t expecting any guests tonight.

He trudged on to his door and mustered some strength to look through the peephole. Blue irises looked back at him, moved away a few steps, and struck a pose with a pink-haired girl with bandages still on her nose. The door never opened so quickly during the length of his stay.

“Are you stalkers or something?” were the first words he spat.

“Dr. Aki Nohara said it’s okay to visit you now!” Naruto whined. “And Sakura brought food!”

Sakura presented several paper bags. “It was Naruto’s idea actually. He nagged me for a week.”

“Yeah and I couldn’t understand her in the first few days,” the blonde said, rather straightforwardly.

Sasuke held back the urge to slap his hand on his forehead, but he moved to the side as he allowed them to venture inside his apartment. On second thought, did he put his underwear on the laundry basket?

“We figured you didn’t have dinner yet,” Sakura told him as she laid out the food containers on the dining table. “Mind if we use your utensils?”

“I forgot to say please make yourself at home,” Sasuke snapped sarcastically.

“Eeew, you’re still in your pajamas.” Naruto made a face at him while he opened his fridge and scoured for water and fruit juices. “That makes the two of us who didn’t shower!”

“You idiot. I showered this morning.” Nevertheless, Sasuke sat on the seat beside Sakura, allowing her to give him a bowl of ramen and some serving of okonomiyaki. A large platter of takoyaki was placed in the center of the table, first to be consumed by impatient hands and hungry mouths. Sakura had one hell of an appetite and fast metabolism to boot.

“Anyway, congratulations idiot,” he said while munching on the last piece of takoyaki. “Aren’t you supposed to travel to Fukuoka for the semis?”

“Yeah, next week! It doesn’t start until next month, but Captain Haru said we need to train,” Naruto replied as he proceeded to open a bowl of instant ramen. “The board also granted us exemption from exams. My brains are saved.”

“Your training camp really coincided with the school field trip,” Sakura noted. “Maybe we could visit you in between?”

“That would be the best!” Naruto grinned sheepishly, but Sasuke swore there was a tinge of red in his cheeks.

Finally rid of all food and dishes, the three lounged around in his living room, browsing titles in Netflix – Sakura wanted gore, crime, and horror while Naruto wanted adventure and fantasy films.

“What genre do you want, Sasuke?” Sakura asked. She was in possession of the remote and was seated on the other end of the couch. Naruto was on the floor with an open packet of chips and soda.

“And if I said romance?” he chided, weirdly enough to catch them offguard, but Sakura landed on the Twilight series and pressed play without second thoughts. “I was joking.”

“And it’s now starting,” she said back.

“How long are you gonna stay here?” He lost track of time – not the first instance this happened but the first occurrence without the burden of something heavy. “It’s past midnight.”

“I thought I was slow but you’re actually slower,” Naruto teased. “We’re staying over, grumpy.”

“I would love for a vampire to bite me,” Sakura quipped out of context.

Sasuke figured he didn’t have the energy to refute their uninvited sleepover at his unit. By the time New Moon played on screen, Naruto was sleeping on the floor with his mouth hanging wide open, and Sakura was lying fully on the couch, her feet stretched out on his lap. He slid out of this awkward entanglement and strode quietly to his drawers where he took out spare blankets to cover them with. On his bedside table, his phone lit up with a message notification.

Happy birthday, Sasuke. – Itachi

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 6

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #kakasaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #team 7

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moonshineholland · 4 years

Text

Never Let Me Go / T.H. x reader

R E Q U E S T: Hi! Saw that you’re taking requests and i was thinking maybe i could get some imagine? One where tom took his stress out on his girlfriend causing them to have this huge fight the night before they have to spend time with both of their families and of course, the whole family knows something’s wrong because both of them are not in the mood and the two mothers of both sides decides to talk to them separately and then making them make up? Thank youuuu in advance! Hope you can see this! 🥰

A/N: It’s been so long since I've actually sat down to right something so I hope this is half decent! Shoutout to @cumholland for reading through this and helping me out💖

W A R N I N G S: Kinda angsty, I guess you could interpret the ending as being a little suggestive *wiggles eyebrows*😂

W O R D • C O U N T: 2.8k

The silence in the car was killing you and you were 99.9% sure it was killing Tom too. The atmosphere was tense, even as you pretended to be busy counting the trees, but neither of you were planning on being the first to apologise, you’d gone all morning hardly uttering a word to each other and you weren’t about to give in and be nice to him, especially with the way he had treated you this morning.

You’d both woken up when Tom’s alarm went off at 7:30. Usually, he’d wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, yet today there wasn’t even a “good morning darling” which, of course, stung. Tom rolled out of bed and you just pulled the covers up further, staring at the wardrobe as he got ready, you thought about turning over whilst he was picking his clothes out but then you realised just how petty that would be so you averted your gaze, the wall suddenly becoming much more interesting.

“We’re leaving in an hour.” And with that, Tom had left the room, shutting the bedroom door behind him. You could feel the tears prickling your waterline, the first thing he’d said to you in over twelve hours and it couldn’t have sounded more bitter, like he didn’t want to go, especially not with you. You sighed, throwing back the covers and trudging into the bathroom, coming to stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. Normally you'd be stood with a smile on your face, having just shared some loving moments with him before forcing yourselves to get up, you’d brush your teeth in a comfortable silence, sneaking side-eye glances at him that he would always, always catch, wiggling his eyes brows at you before turning to rest his back against the counter. This morning you brushed your teeth alone, sadness hanging in the air.

You made the bed, picking up the stray cushions that were strewn across the floor, they’d usually get stacked neatly to one side before the two of you got into bed but not last night, last night you’d thrown them angrily, not caring where they landed just so long as you could curl up in bed and fall asleep before Tom came up. The sun was shining when you opened the curtains, a pleasant change from the gloom of yesterday, it gave you hope that you would still have a good weekend at the beach house, with both of your families, regardless of whether you and Tom were on speaking terms or not.

Sifting through your side of the wardrobe you decided on your favourite red sundress, decorated with tiny daisies and frills underneath the bust, one of Tom’s favourite dresses, not that you were dressing for his pleasure. You grabbed your denim jacket from the back of the door and your small suitcase, taking one final glance at the picture of the two of you that sat on the desk, it was taken on a double date, you’d scooped some whipped cream from your milkshake onto the tip of his nose, his mouth hanging open and feigning shock, whilst you were caught mid laugh, you never laughed as hard as you did when you were with him.

You made your way downstairs, lingering on the middle steps. You still had twenty minutes left, did you really want to sit in an uncomfortable silence with your boyfriend? But you definitely needed a drink so you continued your decent, breezing right past Tom, who was watching the football highlights and into the kitchen. Coffee brewed, you sat at the kitchen table scrolling through instagram, pretty much losing track of time as you came to the end of your drink. You hadn’t had any breakfast and you knew that if you rushed to make something it would only piss Tom off even more, so you picked up a banana, you’d eat it in the car.

“You’re not eating that in my car.” He’d noticed the banana in your hand straight away, almost as if he was waiting to find something to start an argument about. You didn't even know whether to respond, at first you thought he was joking but when he walked out of the house, not even offering to take your bags, you knew you wouldn’t even be getting the chance to retaliate. That was enough to turn your sombre mood into that of a sour one and without even thinking twice you threw the banana through the kitchen door, straight at the unsuspecting washing machine.

And now here you were, driving to Cornwall, hungry and slightly angry, hangry. Tom had never really cared too much about you eating in his car just so long as you were careful and, considering you weren’t a child anymore, you generally did a really good job of keeping your food in your mouth and not anywhere else. Yes, Tom had gotten his car cleaned a couple of days ago but that had never meant you couldn’t eat a measly banana in there, he was doing it just to spite you and you hated it. When did the two of you ever get like this? Yeah you’d ‘bicker’ here and there but it never lasted more than ten minutes and always ended in an apology.

About an hour into the trip you’d popped your headphones on. The quietness of the car was getting to be too much, so you’d decided that listening to some of your favourite songs would put you in a better mood, hopefully. It certainly helped to pass the time because before you knew it you’d pulled up to the row of beach houses and before you even had time to register that you were here, Tom was out of the car and already making his way inside with his bags, having tossed the car keys onto your lap, he obviously didn’t feel like waiting for you to struggle stuffing your headphones into your backpack. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closing so as to stop those pesky tears yet again, thinking about the time the two of you spent here last year.

Last year was your first time at the beach houses, having only been with Tom for four months, he’d invited you so that he could spend his time off with both you and his family, it had been the most amazing three days. You spent the evenings cuddled up next time him on an outdoor daybed, drinking wine and combing your fingers through his hair, having known just how jam-packed his schedule had been, it was nice to see him relax, enjoying the company of his family and even though he knew he’d be back to work soon he never dwelled on those thoughts. On your last evening in Cornwall you'd stayed awake until everyone else had gone to bed, staring up at the stars and finishing off the last of your rosé, he’d buried his face in your hair and whispered, “I love you.”

You sighed, grabbing your bag from the footwell and opening the car door, you thought about getting your bags from the boot, but ultimately decided that you really couldn’t be bothered, all you wanted was to go and lie down, the bags could wait until later. With the car locked you made your way inside, your mum quick to pull you into a hug, seeing her face provided you with a sense of relief and you let out a sigh, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. It was Nikki’s idea to have your family come down to Cornwall this year, she knew how much you were missing everyone since moving in with Tom, it was such a sweet gesture that you had cried when she told you she’d arranged everything with your mum.

“What’s wrong?” your mum was sure to keep her voice down, making sure only you heard as she still held you in her arms.

“Nothing.” You mumbled.

“Come on, a mother can always tell when there’s something wrong with her child.” She wasn’t letting up but you really didn't have the energy to talk about it.

“Why don’t you ask him.”

“Trouble in paradise?” She pulled away slightly but still kept one arm around your shoulder, both of you watching on as your dad was busy chatting with Tom and Dom.

“I guess you could say that.” You sighed, a deep sigh that came from the bottom of your lungs. You wanted to be stood with Tom, resting your head on his shoulder. You wished it was like last year, full of love, excitement and lust. Looks like the honeymoon period is over, huh?

Nikki’s voice cut through everyone's chatting as she stood with the keys to the houses, explaining who would be staying where along the row of beach houses. Harry, Sam and Paddy had their own place, next to them Nikki and Dom and your parents had decided to share a house and yours and Tom’s house was just a little walk away. No-one had really noticed that anything was wrong with either of you until Nikki had handed Tom the key to your place, watching as you approached him without a word, without even a smile and took the key out of his hands. You picked up his bags and headed for the front door, as much as you loved spending time with his family and as much as you missed yours, it was all a bit overwhelming and kind of painful, the majority of the people in the room were related to Tom, you really just needed to get out of there and catch your breath.

“Where are you going?” Tom’s voice followed you outside, closing the wooden door behind him as he stepped onto the path.

“To our place.” There was more you wanted to say but kept it to yourself, you didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You did want him to, deep down but you couldn’t let him think everything had blown over just because you were in your little paradise.

“No,” you weren’t looking at him, your eyes were focused on the beach, the soft waves that lapped against the shore, but you could practically see the frown on his face. It made you feel bad instantly. “I’m gonna go for a lie down, so there wouldn’t be much conversation anyway.” You looked back at him over your shoulder, forcing a half smile onto your face before heading to the house.

•••

Tom had been trying to distract himself since you’d left, fiddling with his phone in his hands whilst he tried his best to pay attention to his brothers’ conversation about their game of golf last week, something he’d usually be very interested in but all he could think about is whether he should text you, make sure you’re ok. He looked up at the sunset, thinking back to last year when the two of you had no worries. You’d sit outside for hours and hours laughing and chatting and then he’d watch your face light up in awe at the pretty colours that spread across the sky, lifting your phone to capture a picture.

“Tom?” His mothers’ voice eventually caught his attention as she peered her head through the sliding glass doors, “can I borrow you for a second?” He stood up, sliding his phone into the pocket of his dark wash jeans, grabbing his beer from the table as he made his way inside, following his mum into the living room. He sat across from his mum and yours and he was pretty sure he knew where this was going.

“What’s going on?”

He sighed, sinking down further into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I-, I’ve been a dick,” he said with an even bigger sigh. “We had an argument last night, it’s my fault, I’d had a really shitty day at work and I took it out on her, which I know is no excuse and I don’t know, we were pretty horrible to each other.”

“And have you apologised?”

He shook his head, looking down, almost as if he was ashamed. His mum had always told him that no matter what, he should never go to bed on a argument and last night he did. Not only did he feel like he’d let you down but his mum as well and yours. “I guess I was just being too stubborn,” he scoffed, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes diverting to the kitchen.

“Tom,” your mum started, “if there’s anything I can tell you about her, it’s that she loves you more than anything, she never bloody shuts up about you!” that made him smile as he looked down, a compliment that filled his heart with warmth. “She’s told me a million times that all she ever wants is for you to hold her and never let go, she’s never said that about anyone,” your mum had tears in her eyes, “so please don’t let go, especially over something so trivial.”

She was right, in the grand scheme of things it was trivial, sure both of you might’ve said some mean things but Tom knew it was definitely in the heat of the moment, he’d come in and taken his stress out on you, which wound you up, it was only fair you’d be angry but he missed you. Not talking to you all day or holding your hand or kissing you had really taken it’s toll on him, he felt ten times more stressed than he did yesterday.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, to both mums, he truly appreciated their intervention. He had worried about whether he’d let his stubbornness take over, he’d wondered just how long it’d go on for, would he be sleeping next to you tonight? Or on the couch?

He pulled out his phone, he wanted you to come over here, spend time with everyone but he knew what he had to do first. He started typing out the message:

Please come over, we need to talk, miss you xx

•••

You’d been sitting at the kitchen table doing absolutely nothing but drinking a cup of tea when Tom’s text flashed up on your phone and you’d be lying if you said that you didn't smile at it. It was finally going to be over, you hoped. Surely you couldn’t argue anymore, right? You finished off the rest of your cup before slipping on your shoes and rummaging through Tom’s bag that you’d discarded on the couch earlier, pulling his pale blue hoodie out and shoving it on.

When you entered the house you were met with complete silence, you assumed everyone was in the garden but when you entered the kitchen you saw him sat there with his head in his hands. At the sound of your footsteps and your hand on his back he bolted up. “H-hey.” His voice was soft, you could tell he’d been crying. You let your hand trail from his back, down his arm and to his hand, letting him pull you gently into his lap, wrapping your arm around his neck as you perched. He looked up at you, his eyes red and puppy-like. “I’m so sorry darlin,” his voice broke slightly as he pulled at the strings of his hoodie, the smallest of smiles making it’s way onto his face as he noticed you were wearing his Suspicious Antwerp hoodie.

“No I'm sorry, I should’ve just understood that you’d had a hard day and let it go.” You apologised.

“But how were you to know? I shouldn’t have had such an attitude on me,” he brushed some hair out of your face and kissed your cheek delicately “I love you and I don’t ever want to let go of you.” He mumbled, looking intently into your eyes. “Well, we’ve missed the sunset, so how about, we take this bottle of wine,” he leant forward and picked it up off the table, it was your favourite, “and have a bath? And I'll make it up to you, let you know just how sorry I really am.” His lips were pressed delicately against the skin under your ear, the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle of wine was rubbing soft circles on your skin under his hoodie.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, please never let me go.”

#feedback appreciated!#tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland moodboard #moonshineholland writes #moonshineholland fic #moonshineholland moodboards

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purecamp · 3 years

Text

2020 Review

I don’t usually do these, but it’s safe to say this year warrants a lot of change. There’s been some good, plenty of bad, and I think I just want to be frank and get some feelings out while we’re still here so I don’t have to carry it all into 2021. (Once you’re past the nice bit you’re under no obligation to keep reading haha)

First, some positives:

@artificialortega - My rock. I never understood that phrase but you truly are an immovable force of love and an endless talent. You inspire and motivate me so much, and I love you to the ends of the earth. @djoodimattel - Beauty! I met you this year! You were every bit as beautiful and charismatic as I knew you would be and I’m so thankful for your friendship. @awk0beauts - Miss loved up I am so happy that 2020 has brought you so much love, you deserve every single bit of it. @bethany-alic3 - You’re not on here much so I will tell u so in the groupchat regardless, but our little creation remains one of my proudest achievements and you’re such a hard worker and a beautiful person inside and out, I want to be just like you when I grow up (which I almost have). @pianowired - You already know how much I love you but I’ll say it here again just in case you missed it. @veronicasanders - I didn’t know you very well before this year but you’ve been such a big help to me during some of the worst times and I appreciate you very very much. @fab-wolf-in-the-gloom - You never fail to respond when I need somebody and I hope you know I’ll always do the same for you, your love and support means the absolute most. @meluisart - After nearly four years, our friendship still holds up. I’m so glad to have found you way back when, I love you.

This year I realised some things about myself that I started to work on, reflect on, and accept. I did online schooling with slightly lowered but still high grades that I can be proud of, and I sent off my application to do a Creative Writing degree at university hopefully starting in Sept/Oct 2021, if the world permits. I submitted to AQ seven times, despite the long long gap between June and December.

I’ve been trying to look on the brightside because frankly, this year was going fine for me until the end of June. Covid was scary and still is, but since I was able to do school online and stayed home otherwise, I was lucky enough that it was background noise in my life.

Little rant coming now, sorry. Heads up, I’m gonna be talking about Sharon.

I have the memory of finding out about everything literally burned into my brain. I was watching a film with my sister and I checked twitter, saw some stuff about a document, skimmed through without paying much attention in a pretty light-hearted mood. My heart dropped, I carried on watching the film and didn’t react. When I went back to my room, I reread everything and cried until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

Since then, I’ve had to grieve, cope, reflect, rethink, and more. And my opinion is constantly changing, and I never know what the right thing to say is. If I’m honest, I’ll receive buckets of anonymous hatred. If I plan my words carefully, I’m not saying the whole truth of what I think.

I will say that since the document’s deletion, the false accusations and the accusations involving/pertaining to others, I’m a little more comfortable in doubting the claims. I have never nor will ever defended Sharon’s problematic actions in the past, because I’ve always been well aware of her transgressions, but I’m still unsure of where I stand at the end of 2020 other than that I miss her, and I selfishly wish all of this could just be fixed.

The world is not as black and white as it seems in most cases, but again, I don’t want to subject myself to the hate I got before. It wasn’t as much as I expected, but with the situation already taking a huge toll on my mental health this summer, that still remains, it was soul-destroying to keep receiving messages. I think I’m past it now, but I’d like to not test the theory.

From 2021 I just want to have a little bit more peace. I would like to keep writing if I can (I still write for another fandom, but AQ is my home), I would like to be able to enjoy the things I love, and I would like to enter the newest chapter (turning 18, going to university) without the trauma of this year.

If you got this far, first of all why, and secondly, thank you. I hope every single one of you has a better year ahead than this one has been.

#2020 thoughts #personal

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msjr0119 · 3 years

Text

Birthday One Shot

A/N1: So it’s my girls birthday today. My favourite drunk partner. Hope you have had a fabulous day @drakexwillow !!! I can’t wait to have an alcoholic drink with you and fall asleep again 😆

A/N2: Some of the dialogue used was actually texts between us. I’ve rushed this as I’ve been busy passing out all weekend - bypass any stupid grammar mistakes 🤣

A/N3: Thank you to your other half, ‘Beany’ for helping me out with some things- I hope he didn’t spoil it for you ❤️👍🏼

Book: The Royal Romance (A/U)

Pairing: Drake Walker (Michiel Huisman) x Willow Downing (Jessica Lowndes)

Song inspirations:

Gun Machine Kelly- Drunk Face

Gun Machine Kelly- Hangover Cure

Mood- 24kGoldn and Ian Dior

Warnings: Adult language, mention of sex, mention of being drunk.

Tags: Thinking of those who like Drake x MC especially Willow- don’t feel obliged to read if you don’t want to 😊

@drakexwillow @burnsoslow @axwalker @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @bascmve01 @yukinagato2012 @lodberg @cordonianroyalty @texaskitten30 @nomadics-stuff

****

Drake Walker had been dating Willow Downing for many years now. Every birthday that came around he always struggled with new ideas about what to do for the love of his life. At times he was tempted to ask for advise from his closest friends Maxwell and Sophie- however, if he did that he knew that it would just end in a disaster. A big drunken mess. He would usually impersonate a babysitter for the three of them, especially Willow. Thinking back to past birthdays, she wasn’t a bad drunk. Or was she? There had been times when she would get the ‘munchies’- gather food everywhere then not clean up after herself. Rice. That was the worse time for this common food reoccurrence. If it wasn’t the issue of food, there was the spilt drinks residue surrounding the place instead. Which Drake had to clean up. One of the worse ‘Willow moments’ since they had began dating had been when she vomited in their bed- and all down herself, Drake had turned into a domesticated goddess for the night. Stripping the bed, before assisting her in the shower. Oh, then there was the time when Maxwell and Willow had gotten matching tattoos of a peacock with the words ‘House Beaumont Rules’ sprawled underneath it. That night was karma in Drake’s eyes. Regardless of her drunk past antics, he loved her with all of his heart and wouldn’t change it for anything. She was the one.

****

🎶Why you always in a mood?

Fuckin' 'round, actin' brand new

I ain't tryna tell you what to do

But try to play it cool

Baby, I ain't playing by your rules

Everything look better with a view🎶

“I’m not in a mood!” Drake defended himself- as his other half entered the kitchen singing. Yes, he was known to be the moody one. The one that always wore a scowl. But for once he wasn’t ‘in a mood’. Not for now anyway.

“Sometimes you are. But no, it’s a song. You really need to get down with the kids Drake and watch TikTok.” Snuggling behind him, it was the best option as she knew exactly what his expression would be like. Hearing a heavy sigh escape from him- soon she felt him relax, both feeling content.

Fucking TikTok. He muttered to himself. The social media app had become his worse nightmare recently. When they laid in bed on a night, she would promise him that she was only watching it for five minutes. That five minutes soon turned into an hour, which then elaborated into sometimes three or four hours. By that time he had fallen asleep. No intimacy. It’s a phase- she will soon get bored. Again, he wouldn’t change his relationship with her.

****

Later on that night after they had eaten, Drake had put one of Willow’s favourite TV series on. Usually she would be ‘glued’ to it- no matter how many times she had seen this specific episode.

“I thought that you’d want to watch The Office? But instead you’re just listening to that garbage. Can’t we just have one night with no TikTok or listening to him?” After his original snappy attitude, that turned eventually into a plead- Drake attempted to make eye contact with her. Knowing full well that she wasn’t fully listening to him.

“But, he’s amazing. Gorgeous. Sexy.....” Swooning deep down inside as she expressed this, Willow eventually locked eyes with a now pissed off boyfriend. Before TikTok became a ‘thing’, she was in a similar situation whenever a new game for the PlayStation was released. Karma at its best.

“Obviously not as sexy as you though Mr Walker.” Attempting to redeem her previous words, Drake responded with only an eye roll. Maybe she was slightly addicted to Machine Gun Kelly and TikTok. In all honesty, lockdown was to blame for this ‘addiction’. Being stuck in the house. With nothing to do. Well, there was other things to do. Most time spent to begin with was the two of them entangled in each other.

“I’m sorry, Drake. Allow me to listen to one song, then we will watch this- no phones. Just Drillow time.” A smile finally crept upon his face. Finally she was cooperating with him in his mind.

“Sounds like a good deal. Which song are you going to choose?” He asked, not that he was bothered or interested. Just eager to spend time without any distractions.

“I like too many songs- I’ll try and pick a favourite...’Drunk face’. It’s off his new album. ‘Hangover cure’ is also a good one by him.” I bet it is.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t listened to it.” Faking a sincere yet interested tone of voice, Willow was still debating which song to hum and listen along too. Just hurry up and chose one.

“I can’t believe he’s with Megan Fox and he keeps using her in his music videos it’s so cute.” Getting easily distracted again, Drake bit his lip as she did this in a silent frustration.

“I thought that Megan Fox was still with Brian Austin what’s his face?” Surprisingly, he wasn’t aware of their unexpected split when it was breaking news in the show business world.

“No they split up the start of the year I think it was....I didn’t think they’d look that cute together and pictures of them together he towers over her and it makes them look adorable.” Like us, Drake compared the celebrity couple to themselves as he always towered over a ‘shorter’ Willow.

🎶Wake up, still drunk from last night

The first dates are always uncomfortable

Stayed up, I couldn't sleep last night

I'll admit, I'm a little dysfunctional

Are you okay with the fact I'm a little off track, to be honest

I've been through relationships, I've never been in love, but I want this 🎶

“Anyway, let’s finish watching this before my birthday tomorrow.” Finally placing her phone out of reach, Drake couldn’t quite believe that she had detached herself from it. Almost hallucinating due to the fact.

****

The two of them didn’t quite finish watching the episode. One thing led to another. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, before Drake had carried Willow bridal style to their bedroom. The rest of the night was bliss, an early gift for the birthday girl. Walker style.

Knowing that it was now officially her birthday, she snuggled into the soft warm sheets with a content feeling. Subconsciously she had dreamt about how Drake would make her day special. As he always did. Rolling over, there was no sign of him. Blinking her eyes she believed that she could possibly still be half asleep- that was until the realisation of the sun peeping through the cracks of the blinds. Forcing herself out of bed, she searched the house for Drake with no avail. Wondering what he was upto, she put those thoughts to the side for now and got ready for the day. Her day. A day that she had planned to be filled with fun and laughter with the people closest to her. He will be back before I’m finished.

An hour later, the wanderer still hadn’t returned. Willow had become slight panic stricken before the banging on the door distracted her pondering any further.

“Happy birthday!” The two friends shouted enthusiastically before pulling her in for a group hug. A hug that could have potentially suffocated her. “Where’s Drake?”

“I... I don’t know. It’s not like him to leave without saying goodbye at least, Soph.”

“Well it’s eleven o’clock. Never too early for a birthday cocktail. It’s the evening somewhere in the world. Maxwell sort the birthday girl out with a drink.”

“Yes ma’am. Come on, Lo.” Sophie watched the two of them disappear out of sight before dialling the number on her phone.

“Drake. Where are you?”

“I’m just getting Lo a present, I’ll be back soon Soph. I promise.”

“A present? How long have you been together? You should be more prepared Drake! You know it’s her birthday. This is not the time to go awol, Walker. Or at least explain to her where you are going!”

“Sophie, just please.... just distract her with some shit off of TikTok. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

An hour or so later after Sophie’s and Drake’s brief conversation- there was a quiet knock at the door, which made them all question who it could be. They had arranged to have a quiet time together as a foursome. Threesome at the moment. As far as they was concerned in the morning; the three of them didn’t want to wake up still drunk from last night. They were still young, wasting their youth. Promising to grow up next summer. They didn’t want Drake to always be in a mood.

“You girls carry on drinking, I’ll get the door.” Maxwell suggested as he leapt off of the bar stool.

“May I help you?” Maxwell questioned as he peered through the peep hole with one eye shut and the other attempting to examine the mystery person. In all honesty, it didn’t help that he was already slightly tipsy. He would be useless as an eye witness.

“It’s me you idiot! Are you going to open MY door?”

“You sound like Drake, but you don’t look like him. How do I not know that you’re here to rob us by impersonating my bestie?”

“One. Do you think that I’d dress like this if I was going to rob you? Two... you are not my bestie Beaumont!”

“Wow! You’re really good at this whole Drake Walker act.”

“Just fucking let me in Maxwell, before I throttle you!”

“How much is Drake paying you? He would actually say something like that to me... okay, I’ll ask you a couple of questions. If you get them right you can come in Drake.” Empathising the name, Maxwell still wasn’t convinced that it really was Drake. His drunk mind wondered why he wouldn’t just use his key and allow himself in.

“What’s my middle name?”

“Percival.”

“Lucky guess. What’s my peacocks name back home?”

“Petunia. Now get the chain off and let me in!” Oh that’s why he couldn’t get in. I forgot that I put the chain on when me and Sophie first arrived. Doh! Safety first!

“Drake it is you!” No shit Sherlock. “You look a complete knobhead by the way. Welcome to Chateau A La Walker.”

“Leave the French talking to someone who can actually express the language, Max.”

“Colson?” Drake sighed looking at Willow. Knowing how ridiculous this whole situation was. “Drake?”

“Tonight Matthew I’m going to be Colson Baker- Machine Gun Kelly. I’ve even got some nail varnish so you can do what Megan does to him in that music video. I’ve got red, pink, purple, black........”

“Drake... I like him and his music. But I love you. I love you for you... why are you doing this?”

“Do you love me more than him and TikTok?” Now that is a predicament to be in. Hmmm...

“Of course I do, you idiot.”

“Thank fuck for that! This wig was itching me too much.” Relieved to finally take it off, he flung it onto the floor- not caring how much it had cost him to recreate somebody else’s look.

“You don’t suit blonde hair anyway. These tattoos are so realistic.” Willow smiled softly towards him.

“Erm....”

“Erm?”

“Well... the reason... that... they look so realistic.....”

“Oh my god you didn’t!”

“Well these ones are just stick on ones. I did have one done this morning- hence why I’m late. I’m sorry.”

“I NEED TO SEE THIS!”

“You will later..... I promise.”

“He’s probably had it done on his arsehole or something? Can’t be as bad as Maxwell’s ‘Turn Back Now’ Pennywise balloon tattoo above his ass.” Sophie suggested and explained with an oblivious Maxwell not understanding why suddenly he was the clown of the group. Drake couldn’t help but blush thinking about his surprise tattoo, in his mind it was ridiculous- he had regretted it as soon as it had began.

“Drake? Are you going to show me? It is my birthday after all...” Fluttering her eyelashes, he was done for. Simple gestures such as these turned him into a big ball of mush.

“Follow me to the bathroom. I’ll show you....” Stripping off out of the ‘rapper’ clothes that he had borrowed to complete his MGK look- he wrapped a towel around him in a flash. Not wanting to spoil the surprise immediately.

“So... don’t laugh, Lo. On the count of three- okay?” She couldn’t contain her excitment, being too eager and intrigued about the tattoo- she quickly whipped the towel away.

“Oh my god. You had a tattoo in honour of me.... Don’t you ever, criticise me for getting a tattoo. The peacock one- I was drunk. You had no excuse to get this. I might actually cry- with laughter. I love you, Drake Walker. Best birthday present EVER! I’ll get us both a drink. Come back into the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Not so little Walker- property of Willow ⬇️

Those words would now be permanently written across his pubic bone. Yes, it would be humiliating if anybody other than Willow found out the true extent of this tattoo. But what would be more embarrassing was if she was to reject his second surprise of the day now her name was on him for life.

#choices trr #theroyalromance #the Royal Romance a/u #drake walker #michiel huisman #drake walker x mc #drake x Willow #drakexwillow #birthday girl #birthday one shot #tw adult language #tw mention of sex #tw drunk #maxwell beaumont #oc Sophie #Maxwell x Sophie

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today-only-happens-once · 4 years

Note

Have you talked about your DnD PCs before? Can you talk about your game on tumblr? What's all been going on last few sessions :o

ANON you are one of my favorite people today this ask made me so freaking happy. (So is @psychedelicships who said I had an invitation to ramble about my d&d campaign) Sorry for my excited gushing and rambling slkdfjdsklfjskldfj

My D&D Player Character

So my current D&D PC is named Kyssarda. She’s a half-elf neutral-good monk. I’ve rambled about her backstory before but the condensed version is that there’s a pattern of people leaving her/abandoning her in her life. Her parents died in a fire that her older brother rescued her from when she was four. She passed out on the way out, and when she woke up, she’d been told that she’d been left on the doorstep of the temple. Her brother was no where to be found. When she eventually made her way back home, her home was ash. Monks trained her, but they weren’t really equipped to raise a small child, so Kyssarda had a very lonely upbringing. The monks follow Sehanine (d&d deity), so she was raised on the tenants of her teachings and the teachings about following your own path led to her eventually striking out on her own. As a result of her upbringing and past, the people in her life (i.e. the party) are super important to her, because they are the first friends she ever chose and in some ways, they’ve chosen her too. She has abandonment issues up the wazoo, and hoo has she been reminded of that in recent sessions.

She’s very... empathetic and soft. She pays close attention to the mental/emotional state of her party members. Part of that is just who she is, but a lot of that is informed by her own loneliness. She doesn’t want others to feel like they’re alone, because she knows very intimately how much that can suck. Her loyalty and protectiveness of her friends leads her to sometimes not make the most tactically advantageous decision in combat, and also means that she has basically no self-preservation instincts (which is the main reason I’m pretty sure she’s gonna die before the campaign is over).

Campaign Stuff/Ramblings (under a cut because I’m literally just never going to shut up lets goooo):

So the original party consisted of a Teifling Paladin, a Wood Elf Rogue (who is multiclassing in monk), a Leonin Blood Hunter, and Kyssarda. We met during a fighting tournament and was contracted by the king to retrieve something for him. We teamed up for that, and convinced the king to come along too. So we traveled to some ruins, fought some stuff, and found the relic the king needed. We ran into a Jotenheim giant and fought that. In the process, the Leonin ended up attacking Kyssarda (cuz he’s basically a werewolf lion, and when he goes to his hybrid form and drops below half-health, he has to save on a wisdom saving throw or he just attacks the closest figure which happened to be meeee).

Later on in a different fight in the same place, Kyssarda freaking died thanks to 2 chain lightnings (I took damage while unconcious and then rolled a Nat1 on the death save). But the king we brought along was a cleric who had what was needed for revivify. So Kyssarda came back, with a withered left hand. The Leonin felt responsible for her death because he’d attacked her earlier, and vowed to help her fix her hand.

I forget exactly when, but during this journey, Kyssarda and the Leonin learned that there was a war brewing between two different kingdoms and that the Elf Rogue seemed to have a personal (but vague?) stake in the outcome of that war.

but ON OUR WAY BACK to the city, we got side-tracked with a quest to help a little girl rescue her family. So we also fought a troll and a hag. And when we were getting her family out, we also found (Surprise!!) the estranged (kinda) sister of the Elf Rogue.

This lead to some downtime back at the main city. Kyssarda got her hand fixed at a temple. We got the sister of the Elf Rogue healed up at the same temple. The Leonin had a hilarious and embarrassing fight with a creature I can’t remember the name of. And lots of research was done by all about various things. Kyssarda did the most research, as she grew up working in the library section of the monk monastery so she’s always curious. So she starts looking into things about the war going on, and learns that Mr. Elf Rogue is in fact ROYALTY. He’s a prince of one of the countries at war. And we had learned already that he had fled the city with his siblings but not that he was royalty?? So that was a trip to learn.

Meanwhile, Kyssarda is also helping the Teifling Paladin with some research because he’s been having weird dreams. And while they’re chillin’ in the library, the Paladin finds this book and gets sucked into it. Like. One minute he’s there, one minute he’s not and the book is floating before it closes and slams on the table. So Kyssarda (Ms. Abandonment Issues and also Freshly Traumatized By Havivng Died) panics and takes the book and runs. Our Paladin is still in the book. We sent him a Sending Scroll asking if he was okay and he basically said “Yeah im fine I’ll be back eventually”. Kyssarda also had a nice heart-to-heart with the Elf Rogue about the reemergence of his sister and told him a little about how her own brother abandoned her and encouraged him to just be patient with her (because the sister is not happy with him).

But the show must go on, and our Elf Rogue really wants to get back to his home and help in the war effort somehow, plus find his brother who also is MIA. So Kyssarda, the Leonin, the Royal Elf Rogue, his sister, AND another human PC (a guy who helped sneak the Elf Rogue and his siblings out the city all those years ago and was being played by the guy who used to be the Paladin) all travel out headed towards the Elf Rogue’s homeland.

But we get to the border at a bridge, and the party finds themselves facing down some harpies, some marrows, and a water elemental. In the fight, Kyssarda casts silence to help against the siren song the harpies were singing. Which was mostly a good thing. The water elemental was something else though. It engulfed both Kyssarda and the Elf Rogue, and Kyssarda was down to 1 HP when the Leonin yanked her out. However, because of a REALLY unfortunate roll by the human pc to save from a drop into the river (rolled a 2 and had a minus 2 on the modifier), he was unconcious and drowning. And none of our characters knew because. y’know. Silence. He kept drowning as the fight went on. And he eventually got washed up on some rocks and could make one death save after two failed ones. And he failed. And we had no cleric, and besides... it was more than a minute before we found his body down river.

And all of our characters felt terrible. Kyssarda has a tendency to take blame for things that maybe aren’t strictly her fault, so she definitely feels a weight of responsibility for complicated reasons. The Leonin expressed that he felt some level of responsibility as well, and also hesitation about going forward with the journey though some conversation between Kyssarda and him lead to him continuing on regardless. The Elf Rogue was pretty torn up about it.

We got some Elf Rogue backstory that addresses the fact that he was royalty (which was something Kyssarda had thought about asking) and more explanation of what’s been going on with him and his connection to the land we’re heading towards. We run into a fey creature that was an old ally of the Elf Rogue and Teifling Paladin, and we agreed to help him.

Cue the session last night.

We go to get some stuff of his back from an Incubus/Succubus pair. And sh!t hit the fan. Our Elf Rogue rolled really high stealth and decided that was a fine reason to dive through the broken window. Meanwhile, we were going on this side-quest with a half-orc barbarian (played by the guy that’s usually the paladin and who had the first PC death of the game the session prior). And the Incubus and Succubus can each essentially mind-control people, or try to. And both our barbarian and our Leonin Blood Hunter failed their wisdom save and so our two biggest heavy hitters were mind-controlled by the enemy. THAT went about as well as you’d expect.

Over the course of the fight, the Leonin went unconcious twice. Kyssarda once. The Elf Rogue twice. And the barbarian would have gone unconcious but thanks to relentless endurance, he was brought back to one HP. In fact, we reached a point towards the end where the Leonin, Kyssarda, and the Elf Rogue were all unconcious and our barbarian was the only one standing...at one HP. That’s when the incubus (we’d killed his mate by then) took the Elf Rogue’s sister and made a break for it. The barbarian brought me back first (because I was dying in acid and therefore automatically failing death saves). Then I brought back the Leonin and we got the Elf Rogue up too. We managed to chase down the Incubus and save the sister as well. but HOLE. EE. SH!T. Most terrifying, stressful D&D combat of my LIFE. Kyssarda came very, very close for two rounds to offering herself up as a willing victim/slave/whatever if they’d let her friends go. She didn’t because the tide was starting to turn by then in the fight but it was a ROLLERCOASTER.

Before we closed the session, we went back to that fey guy and got paid though Kyssarda stormed off kind of? She didn’t vibe with the guy because she almost lost her friends over his stupid book and she was shaken and upset. But she had a conversation with the Leonin at the end of the session just kinda... dealing with the trauma of the past few days in-game. It was actually a really nice moment. I think my favorite RP moment for Kyssarda so far.

So yeah! If you read all of this, I’m surprised and touched. Heh. I literally love D&D so freaking much, and I’m especially attached to this party and this character... though her lack of self-preservation does have me starting to plan for another back-up character just in case. ^u^

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

So Close - S.S. XXXIII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 33

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: i would like to personally thank every person who got bored during quarantine and found my blog. i see you. i love you. thank you for reading and sticking around💕

The McCalls and the Stilinskis had always been such close parallels of one another that you’d gotten used to your families doing things together and making progress at the same time. Scott and Stiles started school at the same time, you never very far behind. Claudia died before Raf left, but it felt the same in the long run. Family dinners every Thursday, Noah teaching each of the kids to drive in the Jeep, and Mel helped you all with your homework.

Two families, but not really.

That’s why it was so weird that Noah was going out on a date. His first date in maybe ten years. With Lydia’s mom.

“Oh, I should’ve gotten a haircut,” Noah mumbled as he checked himself out in the mirror.

“Well, you know, someone your age should be happy you still have hair to cut,” Stiles said, pushing the mirror down so Noah would pay attention to him.

“I think you look great,” Scott said.

You took a step forward and fixed Noah’s tie for him. With a smile, you said, “Yeah, like a silver fox minus the silver.”

“Well, thank you, children I should have had,” Noah said pointedly.

Two families, but not really.

Stiles kept trying to pry information out of his dad so you moved out of their way as they bickered. At least that wasn’t changing anytime soon. You and Scott were still making jokes about how long it’d Noah to reach his limit and leave for his date early when you heard some yelling from the bullpen. It was so venomous that you thought your ears would bleed.

The four of you left the privacy of Noah’s office to find Parrish and Clarke holding back some kid who was trying to make a run for the office. The kid was threatening to kill Noah.

“Donovan, if you think that shocks me, remember that it was well-documented in your Anger Expression Inventory,” Noah said, clearly unfazed by the death threats. “Deputies, escort the prisoner out.”

“No, I’m not angry like I’m gonna throw a brick through your window,” Donovan said, still trying to break through the deputies’ grip. “I’m angry like I’m going to find you, like I’m going to get a knife, and like I’m going to stab you with it until you’re dead. And when you look at me and you ask why, remember right now. Because this is why.”

His heart rate didn’t rise or drop as he threatened. It was steady the entire time; like a drum keeping time to a death march. He wasn’t bluffing; Donovan really believed that he was going to kill Noah.

“Wow, that was awesome,” Stiles said next to you. He had his arms crossed in front of him and was wearing the least interested, most sarcastic expression in his arsenal. But his heartbeat said something else. “That was awesome, really. That was great. Wanna do one more?”

Donovan’s heartbeat was starting to rise.

You put a hand out to catch one of Stiles' gesturing hands to get him to stop. It's not that you were afraid of Donovan, but everything about the situation felt wrong. His hand was moving so you settled on the top of his arm. “Stiles-”

“Come on, give us another one,” Stiles went on. “Maybe like Christopher Walken this time, you know?” He finally noticed your hand and folded his hand over his chest again to hold yours. “Okay, you know what? It’s fine. You’ll have plenty of time to work on it when you’re in your tiny, little cell. You know? Just stuck there. Forever.”

Donovan faked turning around for a second before doubling back and lunging for Stiles. You pulled Stiles behind you as Scott and Noah moved in front of him and Parrish and Clark restrained Donovan. He was still yelling about how he was going to kill Noah as he was being dragged out of the station.

You hoped he’d rot.

The three of you weren’t even five minutes out of the station when Kira called about Lydia finding a body. Stiles made an only-slightly illegal u-turn and drove you guys to the scene - Donovan’s police transport van. Your blood ran cold as the bodies were wheeled past you and you reached for Stiles’ hand.

Noah waved you guys over to him. “Scott, you saw this kid - Donovan. He … he wasn’t like you, right?” “I don’t think so,” Scott said.

“Unless he knows how to hide his scent,” Stiles said.

“Well, human or otherwise, this kid might have just murdered his lawyer and mortally wounded two officers,” Noah said. Deep frown lines were already etched into his forehead, despite only being at the scene for five minutes. “We’ve got an APB out on him, but you think you can find him faster?”

“I can try,” Scott said.

“I’ll stay in case he doubles back,” you said, with a nod in his direction.

Something caught your eye in the rafters of the alleyway and you busied yourself trying to focus on it amidst the flashing lights and police chatter. It felt familiar, sinister. But it disappeared before you got the chance to find it.

Stiles touched your arm lightly, drawing you back to all the noise. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. “Just a bit on edge. It felt like …”

“Like what?” Stiles asked.

You looked back up to that spot in the rafters. “Like Theo.”

---

“Tracy wasn’t just having trouble sleeping,” Lydia said for the second time. “It was a real disorder. It was night terrors.”

“Right, well, now she’s the night terror,” Stiles said. “Especially since no one can find her.”

“Okay, I know we’re all tired and miserable-” Scott paused to look at Mason, who was completely enthralled by the conversation. “Except for you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is all just mind-blowing,” Mason said. He looked over at Kira. “You’re a Kitsune. I don’t even know what that is!”

“I’m still learning,” Kira said with a smile.

“Liam, we said you could tell him, not invite him to the inner circle,” Stiles said.

“Uh, I’m in the inner circle?” Mason asked.

It made you laugh. Mason reminded you of a much sweeter, much more curious version of Scott when he was younger. Also much less annoying.

“No!”

“Look, guys,” you said, putting your hands on the bus as you thought over how to phrase it. “Tracy is dangerous, no doubt, but she’s a lone wolf. Lone wolves don’t survive. We have to find her.”

“One lone serial-killing wolf,” Malia said

“Uh, she only killed one person, you know,” Stiles said, tilting his head. “The other two were just mauled.”

“So what do we do once we find her?” you asked.

“I say we put her down,” Malia said, almost without hesitation.

“No way,” you said. “Tracy isn’t in control. You guys didn’t put me down when I wasn’t in control.”

“Uh, I tried,” Malia said. “Remember?”

“Vividly,” you said in a low voice.

“Woah.” Mason’s sweet little voice broke through the tension. “Intense.”

Yeah, that was one way to describe it. It was intense as you butted heads with Malia and intense when Liam pulled the fire alarm so you could get Tracy out of the school. Intense when something metallic started pouring out of her mouth.

“Now, this silvery substance at her lips ...” Deaton said quietly. “It’s not something I’ve seen before. It looks almost like mercury.”

Tracy started moving on the exam table and everyone took a step back except for you.

“Can’t you just give her a shot of something?” Malia asked.

“She doesn’t look to be in any pain,” Deaton said.

“I meant a shot to kill her,” Malia said.

You turned your back on Tracy so you could get a good look at Malia before you started arguing. “Would you stop talking about killing her? She's not that different from you.”

“Exactly,” Malia said. “She wouldn't hesitate to kill me.”

“Regardless of intent, I generally prescribe to a code of ethics that frowns upon such measures,” Deaton said.

“Yeah, Malia, you know we’re not going to do that,” Scott said.

“Well, how do you guys know she’s not gonna kill us?” Malia asked.

“She makes a pretty decent point,” Stiles said hesitantly. He went on, despite your protests, “Either way, eventually I’m going to have to let my dad know she’s here.”

“Agreed,” Deaton said. “And while I may argue against euthanasia, I’m not opposed to a little …” he took a bottle off one the counters and unscrewed the lid. “Extra protection.”

You watched Deaton scatter the mountain ash and your breath hitched. This was your first time actually having to worry about the barrier; your first time being trapped by it. You tried to ignore the trapped feeling as Malia moved around to investigate and just focused on Tracy. You wiped some of the mercury off her chin.

Deaton called you and Scott to hold Tracy down for him so he could try some more tests. He used a scalpel to slice into her arm like you’d seen him do with Derek all those months before, but nothing except Tracy’s breathing changed until the scalpel snapped.

“I think you’re gonna need a bigger blade,” Stiles said, taking a step toward the table.

Scott took a break to check his messages and you helped Deaton flip Tracy over when he found something in her neck. Scott was talking about the condition of the driver from the attack, but you were too focused on Tracy to pay attention to him. Her back seemed fine - until something started moving around her spine.

“I think I know what she is,” Stiles said.

“Would you care to enlighten the rest of us?” Deaton asked. “Because this doesn’t look too good.”

The others came closer as Deaton prodded the movement under Tracy’s skin. It was sickening to look at but you couldn’t look away. And then it burst open, spraying blood all over the room. It was electric. Metallic. You were too busy trying to scrub it off your face to notice what everyone was staring at on the table. And then you got sliced across the face by a tail.

You tried to grab Tracy’s ankle as she landed on her feet, but the paralysis came too quickly. All you could do was watch her break through the mountain ash barrier and run out the door.

“How did she do that?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. Being paralyzed was horrible, too close to not being in control of your body. You hated it.

“I don’t know,” Deaton said. “It’s a barrier no supernatural creature should be able to cross.”

“Scott did it,” Stiles said.

“Once, but it nearly killed me,” Scott said.

“We should’ve killed her!” Malia growled.

“Meanwhile, she’s probably on her way to killing someone else,” Stiles said.

“Can you guys, please, stop talking about killing people?” you asked. Your breathing was labored. You needed to move.

The blood on your face didn’t do anything to ease your panic, but at least you weren’t the only one freaking out. Scott and Deaton were both telling Malia to focus on healing, and she was getting just as angry as you were anxious.

The nerves faded, slightly, as you listened to Deaton explain how to focus your healing. Again, the only thing that put you at complete ease was listening to Stiles’ heartbeat - which was sky-high. It crashed in a few minutes, despite the uncomfortable position he was in, giving you a small sense of comfort.

When Jackson was still the kanima, Derek had started training the wolves to heal from paralysis. Pain was the key. Using Stiles’ heartbeat to drown out the noise, you focused on shifting your claws, and - if that didn’t hurt enough - sank them into your side. If you remembered right, the fraction of time this shaved off the wait wasn’t even worth all the effort, but you had to do something.

Blood, sweat, and tears aside, you weren’t the first one to start moving. Malia was. First, it was the tips of her fingers and then the rest of her hand, movement slowly snaking through the rest of her body. It made you feel dangerously jealous, but it also made you fiercely protective. You wouldn’t let Malia kill Tracy.

Stiles was yelling at Malia to wait for the rest of you, and Scott was reminding her to save Tracy. You were still trying to move but that didn’t mean you couldn’t let Malia know that there would be hell to pay if she killed Tracy.

Malia ignored you as she dragged herself out of the animal clinic.

The minutes that ticked past until you could move again were dreadful. You’d finally started moving again when Theo showed up. He tried to pull you up and you slapped his hand away, telling him to get Scott so you could get Stiles.

It was still weird having the strength to lift him. Your whole body ached from the paralysis, tingling and full of static, but you could still hold up all of Stiles’ weight in your arms like it was nothing. The tear on his chest looked painful. He was struggling to stand, his face accidentally knocking into the side of yours as the two of you slumped over to the exam table.

“How did you find us?” Scott asked.

“‘Cause you work here,” Theo said. “I heard about Tracy. I’ve been looking for you.”

When Stiles could lean against the table on his own, you moved over to help Deaton up. “Why did you look for us?” you asked

“I want to help,” Theo said. No one said anything but you did exchange some looks. “Let me help. It doesn’t have to mean I’m a part of the pack or that you’ve accepted me or anything like that. It just means I can help catch this girl.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Stiles didn’t make the same efforts. Scott, on the other hand, was actually thinking it over.

“Scott,” Theo pushed. “I can help you.”

“Scott, you can’t seriously be considering this,” Stiles said.

“Guys, whatever we’re doing, we need to do it now,” you said. “Tracy isn’t in control and Malia is … a wildcard, okay? We need to go.”

“She’s right,” Scott said. It sounded like he was still in pain. “We need to go. Now.”

Stiles got to the station as fast as he could, but you still felt like it wasn’t fast enough. Scott led you guys through the already ajar door to the bullpen. All the blood inside sucker-punched you. The lights were out and deputies were strewn across the office space. Scott rushed to where Clark was checking on Noah and Stiles and Theo rushed to the office where Lydia and Kira were. For a moment there was too much happening for you to think.

Then something clicked and your legs started moving for you.

When you got to the basement, Malia was standing over Tracy’s body and you had her up against the wall in an instant, one arm digging into her neck and your other hand pinning her down.

“It wasn’t me!” Malia wasn’t even trying to fight back. “Y/N, I didn’t kill her.”

You pushed forward reflexively before letting go and letting out a frustrated breath. “Then what the hell happened?”

You knelt down to check if there was anything you could do for Tracy, if there was any hope that you could save her. She was still warm, but her heart wasn’t beating and she wasn’t breathing. Mercury was on her lips.

“There were these people-” Malia sounded confused, like this was something that happened years ago instead of seconds. The others came rushing in while she was trying to think of the words. “They had masks. Um, there- there were three of them. I think there were three.”

She thought there were three? Malia seemed too distraught to be lying, but you honestly weren’t sure anymore.

All you were sure about was Tracy lying dead on the floor, scales on one side of her face and claws on her hands. She should have started changing back like the wolves did.

“She’s not changing back,” Deaton said, coming to the same conclusion you did. “We need to get her out of here.”

“What- Hey, absolutely not,” Noah said as he came closer. “This is a crime scene. We wait for the coroner.”

“I think the coroner might be very confused by this girl’s severed reptilian tail,” Deaton said.

“I don’t care.”

“You should,” Deaton said. “Unless you’re prepared to hold a press conference announcing the presence of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills.”

“Dad, he’s right,” Stiles said.

“Maybe at the clinic we can figure out how to change her back,” Scott said. “Then we call the coroner?”

“There is a line- There’s a line that we have to draw,” Noah said, shaking his head.

“Dad, you’ve already crossed it,” Stiles said. “More than once.”

Deaton tried again and between him and Stiles, something got through to Noah. He said you could take Tracy. Scott scooped her up in an instant and Stiles took your hand in his as you rushed out behind him.

You didn't want to leave Tracy again, but she was dead and Lydia was dying. Lydia would always come first. The five of you got to the hospital as soon as you could, but Lydia was already in surgery. Kira made sure that your mom knew that Lydia had been cut by Tracy’s tail, but then it was just the waiting. And Malia bringing up the men in masks again. Who may or may not have been made up.

Eventually, any chance of you being able to see Lydia passed and you all went home for the night.

Stiles wanted to add the day’s event to his conspiracy board the instant you got back home, but you dragged him to the bathroom to clean up that cut on his chest. All you needed was for him to get a chest infection on top of all this. He took off his shirt while you dug around for the first aid kit.

“Honestly, it’s not that bad,” Stiles said as you turned around. “Your boy Lahey’s done way worse … Hey, what are you- what’s that look for?”

You knelt down in front of him, hand touching his stomach lightly. There was a scar nestled between two birthmarks, long and thin, only an inch or two long and jagged at the sides. The kind of scar you get when someone stabs you.

“Oh,” Stiles said softly. “You know that’s not your fault, right?”

“I never actually said sorry for that.” Your thumb traced the pale line. “I’m really sorry, Stiles. For all of it.”

He gave you a sad smile and covered your hand with his. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it. “I know.”

“How about we get you cleaned up, huh?” you asked.

You disinfected the wound and put a bandage over it, to which Stiles told you you were being dramatic and you told him to take it up with management. The two of you fell into your familiar routine of getting ready for bed to get some sleep in before Melissa came to get you on her way home from work. Every night you hoped she’d forget and you could just stay here.

“Hey, you still awake?” Stiles whispered after half an hour of lying in the dark together.

You rolled over so you were facing him, almost nose to nose, and searched for his hands under the covers. “I might be.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what happened today,” Stiles said. He lifted his hand to the side of your face and ran it through your hair. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I know. Tracy and Malia …” You sighed and shifted around where you lay. “It’s crazy. That thing about men in masks? I don’t think she killed her but-”

“Hey, we had demons in masks trying to kill me like a year ago,” Stiles said. “I guess crazier things have happened.”

“I guess,” you said softly. “I have a feeling this is only the start of it though.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Stiles moved closer and kissed your forehead. He cradled your head and you moved in closer. You fell asleep like that, tangled up and addled with too many thoughts in your head, but at least you felt safe for the first time all day.

Part 34

Tagged: @ietss

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles slow burn #so close #mccall!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite

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panharmonium · 4 years

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@merlinobsessionist you understand me on a spiritual level

[putting the rest of this under a cut because it just ended up being me grumping at length about fandom trends - which, yes, i am well-aware is a silly endeavour in all cases, but sometimes you just gotta have your little grump regardless, you know, for health reasons. X) and in this particular case the grumping is probably relevant/entertaining only to myself, and you, and one or two other people here, so, tucking it away to spare everyone’s dash :) ]

the other day i was exploring the mostly abandoned wasteland that is the merlin fandom on livejournal (since that’s my original fandom home and obviously i missed out on being involved in that particular niche of lj when merlin was active, so i was feeling nostalgic and kinda curious as to it had looked like) - i stumbled over a merlin fic-finders comm and looked up my boy william just for kicks, and surprisingly, a couple of the old requests sounded like maybe i WAS involved in the merlin fandom on livejournal back then and i just don’t remember it

i think i wrote this in a past life

this is an eleven year-old comment in a mostly defunct fandom community but i felt it in my BONES

oh, my dear commenter from 8 years ago, i WISH XD

it made me laugh, and then it made me grumpy, because obviously there were very few suggestions offered in response to these asks - the fics just don’t exist, not in any numbers.

and like, the thing is, i don’t particularly care about the shipping side of things for the most part; i always lean towards gen and that’s mostly been it, for me; that’s always been my MO in every fandom i’ve ever participated in, but - look. if i have to witness (*checks ao3*) 23,830 (twenty four thousand. twenty four THOUSAND!!!!) instances of merlin getting together with arthur hecking pendragon, over and over and over again, in every AU configuration under the sun, then you had better believe i am ready and willing to plead the case of the only person in the merlin-verse who did not think arthur pendragon deserved merlin’s entire life.

and of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with arthur and merlin as an item, obviously (i mean, i can name a few things about it that don’t appeal to me personally, but that is not the same thing as a value judgment) and everybody should have fun with their own ships, always - but for me, personally, there is just...enough of that out there. i have seen Enough. it’s hard for me to even determine where the rest of the fandom is, under the ever-present spread of merlin/arthur content; a picture of merlin/arthur should literally be next to the dictionary entry for steamroller.

and of course, i knew it would be like this from the beginning, and i know complaining about the ubiquitousness of a particular ship in fandom is utterly silly, in the end, because it’s not like there’s anything wrong with something being ubiquitous - the whole point of fandom is to make what you love, and if that’s what everybody loves, well, hey, that’s just how it is! that’s what people should be making - the stuff they love! that’s what fandom is here for! i only mutter to myself in the bubble of my own blog because the ubiquitousness makes it almost impossible for me to find what *i* love, because i don’t want to read about arthur/merlin in the first place, no matter who else appears in the fic, and also because my fave minor character, while he gets a pretty good amount of fannish screentime for someone who showed up in one episode, also suffers from the curse known as “virtually everything he features in is actually about merlin and arthur getting it on”

like - by the numbers, when you exclude merlin/arthur from will’s character tag, will retains less than 20% of his fics, some of which are already like...you know, he’s dead, or just mentioned, et cetera.

and his poor ship tag...he and merlin have 136 fics in their tag, and at first you wanna look at that and be like - ‘hey, not bad, pal, that’s p. good for a rarepair!’ but in actuality, less than 20 of those fics are actually about him and merlin. like...12% of his own ship tag actually belongs to him, and the rest is him being used as a plot device to get arthur and merlin together.

and i am sure that a lot of other side characters probably suffer from this, too, given the general fic distribution in this fandom, though the only person i’ve looked at for comparison purposes is freya, who is a (mostly) one-ep character like will. she, despite that, doesn’t appear to get hit quite as hard - she seems to keep more of her fic for herself, which is nice (when i exclude merlin/arthur from the freya/merlin search, freya still retains about 65% of her fics, as opposed to will’s sad little 12%). i’m glad for her, though - she of all people does not need to be losing fic to arthur; she has suffered enough.

to put things in perspective, though - merlin and uther have more fics in their ship tag that earnestly focus on the tagged....hnhhmgnhn i can’t say it...relationship than merlin and will do - even filtering out every instance of dubcon/noncon.

(and yes, i did in fact want to die when i had to actually click the merlin/uther tag on ao3 in order to check that factoid, thanks for asking.)

so, that said - i don’t generally read canon-era fic anyway, when i’m actively writing for a fandom, but since the merlin fandom sometimes feels like it consists solely of modern AU’s anyway, all i am trying to say is that it would be nice if i could pick up an AU including a character i enjoy without seeing him constantly reduced to:

merlin’s loser ex

merlin’s abusive ex (w h at)

merlin’s ex who’s kinda sorta tolerable-ish, maybe, if you squint, but just ultimately Not Right for merlin - holding merlin back, or being too overbearing, or too pushy, or Just Not Enough - or being someone who merlin stays with only bc he’s familiar and merlin’s settling for something safe and unrisky and stagnantly unfulfilling

the dude who merlin cheats on to be with arthur

the dude who cheats on merlin, bc the fic needed a reason to break up merlin and will so that white-knight!arthur could swoop in (cue me shouting ‘IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO YOU THINK WILL WOULD EVER - ’)

the dude merlin “makes mistakes with” when things with arthur aren’t going well

the friend-with-benefits who’s apparently chill with a casual arrangement, thus keeping himself conveniently out of the way of the oncoming merlin/arthur train

the friend-with-benefits who’s secretly NOT chill with a casual arrangement and who’s pining for merlin, except we all know that ain’t ever going anywhere because arthur exists, and in the meantime merlin only ever gets together with will to try and forget his problems

the friend-with-no-benefits who’s still pining for merlin (which situation, i might add, would be read completely differently if it were arthur in will’s shoes, because if that were the case then the audience would 100% be rooting for him)

the “best friend” whose only purpose in fic is to provide space for conversations/debriefs about merlin’s relationship/pre-relationship with arthur (like - i’m sorry, but there desperately needs to be some type of bechdel-esque test for will; e.g. do will and merlin have a conversation about something other than arthur pendragon? if yes, u win, u may pass go, collect 20 dollars, congratulations)

the friend whose dislike of arthur always, ALWAYS ends up being framed as a mistake. as will’s stubborn unwillingness to give arthur a chance, until at last will sees the light and succumbs to the irresistible beauty of merlin and arthur’s eternal love. -_- there is vanishingly rare acknowledgement in fic of the fact that in the canon universe, all of the criticisms will makes about merlin and arthur’s relationship are not only accurate, but made in merlin’s best interests (and also, ultimately, proven right, by the end of the show - merlin tanks his whole damn life for a series of empty promises prophesying arthur pendragon’s future potential, and he gets NOTHING for his devotion. merlin is more alone at the end of the show than he was at the beginning, when his only dream was to be loved and accepted by more than the two people who’d comprised his entire life up until that point. and he spends at least half a decade in between the show’s hopeful beginning and its miserable end being told that he’s evil by the very person for whom he is expected to sacrifice his future.

so what, exactly, makes will so wrong to be wary? who among us wouldn’t be angry if we saw somebody we loved being forced to sacrifice themselves on an unforgiving altar like this?

i don’t know the answer. i’m not sure what it is that earns will his spot on the “destined to be shafted for arthur pendragon” list. i don’t know if it’s an unconscious backlash to will’s refusal to hop on the arthur/merlin train, or if it’s just a superficial understanding/lack of genuine interest in his character, which, in that case, sure, i’ll give people that one, in all fairness; not everyone has spent a year picking his character apart (though i still don’t think it justifies tossing him in there just because the fic needs a random insert who can be positioned as inferior to arthur’s gloriousness). either way, the end result is that we usually end up seeing a will who has very little in common with his source material, or who needs to ultimately step aside to make way for arthur - arthur, who never displays the same level of care toward merlin in canon that merlin shows toward him, and who actively oppresses merlin’s people for the entire duration of their relationship.

like...it’s all just fic, obviously, and we can make characters as OOC as we want; have fun; go wild. but at the same time, it’s impossible for me not to balk at how arthur in some of this fic is just - utterly unrecognizable. in comparison with fic!will, arthur is the most Solicitous, Gentle, Understanding, Deeply Concerned, Invested-In-Merlin’s-Welfare-and-Inner-Thoughts creature you ever did see, and I’m just over here like - it is not like that! it is NOT LIKE THAT! IT HAS LITERALLY NEVER BEEN LIKE THAT. arthur pendragon in fic sometimes interacts with merlin like - he tilts his head and listens like a therapist and affirms absolutely everything merlin says and tells him ‘gosh, i understand. tell me more. how can i help you’ - he goes about his day thinking about merlin and putting merlin first and i just - i literally have never seen this person before in my life. who is this man? who is this unbelievably attentive paragon of caring? i’ve never met him before.

the entire running problem with merlin and arthur’s friendship in canon is that arthur, while he absolutely does care about merlin, tends to take merlin for granted. merlin is just another feature of arthur’s landscape, until something dramatic happens and arthur has a little scare and saves merlin’s life, and then things go back to the way they were. arthur doesn’t See merlin the way he should, not in the ordinary moments. merlin goes home and spends his evenings thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person and to keep arthur safe and happy, but arthur just goes home and eats supper with his wife. arthur does not go home and spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life. he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’ he never feels like he’s supposed to be half of some two-sided coin. i know people like to give arthur this quality in their fic - and that’s totally fine, of course, it’s fic, have as much fun as you want - but in canon, that is just not something arthur pendragon does. it’s not who he is shown to be.

and yet almost every time when i go to explore fandom, i find that the person who does put merlin first in canon is perpetually elbowed aside for this extremely generous interpretation of everyone’s favorite prince.

and i just...i always try to find the good bits in everything, and i am sometimes willing to overlook a ship i don’t personally enjoy if there’s something else about the piece that i think is great, but there’s only so many times i can read the sentence “merlin had never felt like this with anyone, not even will” in fics where merlin and will are supposed to have been dating or even married/engaged, or “will was merlin’s best friend, but he just didn’t understand” (not like arthur, of course, who merlin literally just met a week ago), or “will was great, but there was only so much of him merlin could stand in one sitting/will was great, but he was best enjoyed in small doses.” there’s only so many times i can read a hundred different variations of that before i start to get real grumpy. and that’s not even touching the fics where will’s portrayed less favorably than that, even.

so, you know. i feel grumbly about it sometimes, how this particular character is trapped in a perpetual net of always being less-than, when one of the nicest parts of fandom for me is that every character/ship can have an infinitude of possibilities, even the ones i personally think are unbelievably bizarre (which category merlin and will do not even fall into, like - it’s not an incredible leap. merlin/mordred is a leap, okay; mordred is like seventeen years old! leon/morgana is a leap - how on earth did that become so popular??? - but will and merlin? that’s not a leap.)

what is it about will that makes him so tempting to trample over? will’s only sin in canon was to look at arthur pendragon and pronounce himself utterly unimpressed. his only crime was to tell merlin ‘this dude isn’t good for you,’ about which fact he was CORRECT, by the way - he is the first person who ever chooses to care about merlin, the first person merlin ever chooses to trust, the first friend who loves real!merlin without needing to be coaxed and convinced and taught that it’s okay. he is the only one who ever tells merlin ‘you deserve better than this mess,’ the only one for whom merlin has always been priority number one and in whose eyes arthur isn’t even on the map. merlin’s friendship with will (and lancelot, afterwards) is the healthiest one merlin ever gets to experience, and i wish more fannish material acknowledged it as such, as opposed to using will to set up merlin and arthur’s epic romance.

all of this, i suppose, is just a very long way of saying that now that i am no longer avoiding spoilers and have actually started testing the waters of the wider fandom, i have come to the obstinate, utterly inflexible conclusion that will deserves his own collection of happy endings, and i don’t care if i have to write them myself. i’ve already got the gen angle covered. and even though i’ve never written ship!fic in my life, the fact of the matter is that spite can be a hell of a motivator, and i will bite the bullet and learn how to do it if i have to. if people can really be out here tagging their merlin/uther fics as “schmoop” (YES. REALLY.) then by GOD, i swear, there are no excuses - this fandom can accommodate literally anything; there’s no reason it can’t accommodate stories where will wins. let this kid have his good ending. arthur pendragon can fall in love with merlin 23,830 times despite his and merlin’s ship flying in the face of canon, and that means will deserves his own tiny handful of stories to be actually about him, without his and merlin’s relationship being used solely as a stepping stone on the way to merlin and arthur’s 23,831st triumph.

i am just saying - if uther pendragon can fall in love with merlin and have it tagged as ‘fluff,’ then for the love of all that is good, we can give will his moment. let will enjoy the respect he should have earned from us when he died saving both merlin and arthur’s lives. let will be a person in his own right, instead of a plot device sacrificed to the (in)glorious altar of merthur. let will have an inner life of his own. let will have a best friend who doesn’t treat him like an accessory to The Greatest Love Story Ever Told. let will himself live out The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, for once. let will get his guy. i may tend to focus on friendship in my own work, but there are a lot of universes out there, and when it comes to someone who has always been so alone, and so singularly focused on merlin’s wellbeing, i’m not entirely sure if friendship even feels anything different to “in love” for will at all, in at least some of these places.

let will have his happy tags. he’s been on his own for so much of his life - let him have his simple ‘friendship’, his ‘platonic love,’ his ‘found family.’ let him have his lovestruck ‘pining,’ ‘friends-to-lovers,’ ‘angst with a happy ending,’ too, and let him keep those tags for himself. let characters who aren’t arthur pendragon have their love stories.

i may not care much for shipping, and i would rather read gen any day of the week, but let me tell you right now, i would rather write will and merlin settling down in a haze of domestic bliss 23,830 times before i would ever want to watch merlin ditch him yet again for a dude who never matched merlin’s level of caring and investment in the canon ‘verse.

#the once and future slowburn #no kings no masters #fandom #thank you for coming to the extended version of my ted talk #ultimately i know it's silly to be so invested #in something this small #and i constantly struggle with feeling...bizarrely self-conscious about like - even writing things like this because #it's so inconsequential and then i feel silly for being so interested #and using so many words for such a little thing #you know like when you're young and you get embarrassed about being so passionate about some niche interest #i feel like someone is looking at me and being like 'BOY THAT GIRL IS STUPID'#(why you ask???)#(i don't know; it's ridiculous!)#but then there's like another voice in my head yelling 'THAT IS LITERALLY WHAT FANDOM IS FOR'#'fanatic domain'#you're SUPPOSED to be fanatically obsessed about something; that is literally the point #people devote whole blogs to their tiny niche interests and their favorite pairings and they post incessantly about one thing #and i never think that's weird #that's just fandom #so i just have to like - chill out about myself lol #i am allowed to make innumerable posts about something only i care about #and i am allowed to be as passionate about tiny niche things as i want #that is literally the purpose of fandom and i just have to keep reminding myself of that #i have no trouble remembering it when it comes to other people's interests #but i always get self-conscious about my own #ANYWAY I'M WORKING ON IT #but in the meantime i'm having fun #which is the entire point of being a fan so #all is well #:D

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mirrorballparkers · 5 years

Text

little star - part two

[peter parker x reader]

[ read part one ]

summary: the sweetest, most patient of best friends; what happens when it sparks into something more?

authors note: after months and months, i’ve decided to continue this series, regardless if people want me to because i love this concept so much and i wanna share it w all of u. i hope u enjoy it. more to come. <3

warnings: omg kinda angst but fluffy nonetheless

pairing: peter parker x reader

~ best friends to lovers troupe ~

word count: 1.9k

peter figured most of this was his fault, not having enough time for each other. he was the one who had the entire world on his shoulders, being a super-hero part time, there’s no excuse for him not to be there for his best friend. absolutely no excuse. still, you were there - you always there. you were the first person he’d come to for anything.

every single night after patrol, you’d keep your window open, awaiting your best friends arrival in his red spidey suit, here to pick up any broken pieces. because you know it was a lot. peter was just a seventeen year old kid; this was a lot to handle and the best thing you could do was be there for him.

he was there for you, too. you were one of the most hard working, kind, yet very broken souls he’d ever known. tough, definitely a tough one, but all because you were broken inside, and he tried so desperately to get that side out of you so you could feel better and more at peace, but it wasn’t always the easiest.

thankfully, peter was patient. he was always patient with you.

the next twenty-four hours for Peter were nothing short of pure anxiety and fear; how could he of all people think that he could sing, let alone dance and act - at the same time. he spent the next day only with you, singing almost non stop and having to be calmed down by you many times. peter assured you that he wanted to do this; he wanted to spend more time with you, he just wasn’t so sure this plan was quite sufficient.

but, he requested you more than anybody. and he’d do anything for you, his best friend. that sometimes gave him a pretty gross taste in his mouth, not because of you; you were perfect. but, that was the problem, you were only his best friend. not his girlfriend, not someone he could kiss and live a real-life romance novel with. maybe he was a fool for believing in love, but that wasn’t something he thought was necessarily a problem, persay.

you had been best friends him ever since he shared his pizza lunchable with you in the second grade, and when you defended him at recess when flash and a few other kids were picking on him — you threw sand at them. and you definitely got in trouble, but peter liked you. he definitely liked you.

after that, you shared everything together. laughs, hugs, pizza at two am on the roof of his apartment building, and nothing but loyalty.

you were his person, and he was yours.

“just like that, lift your body up as you try and hit that high c.” your hands graze onto the piano keys, awaiting peter to do what you asked, some vocal exercise that he was definitely having a difficulty with.

“is there a way i can just....not suck? like, skip all of this weird vocal technique thingies and just become, like, beyoncé or something?” peter frowns, rubbing his stomach as he was desperate to figure out whatever it was you were talking about. all this geeky stuff about singing and music was cute and all, but he didn’t get it. there was so much more to singing than just sounding like a goddess, and peter did not sound like one.

“no, silly. it takes time. now, breathe in and out slowly through your diaphragm. come on, just like we practiced.” you motion your hands towards him and turn back to the piano that was sat in the middle of your living room, the sunlight shining on the sheet music making it just a little difficult to see the notes.

peter was a little distracted, for the sun was also framing your body perfectly. it was..pretty, ethereal. but he needed to focus, auditions were in less than 24 hours and he felt like he was getting nowhere.

“ready?” you ask sweetly.

“mhmm.” he responds, remembering everything you taught him within the past hour and a half of singing and breathes through his diaphragm, just like you taught him to.

surprisingly, he slides through the little exercise perfectly, and can’t help but smile at his progress.

“there you go! see, you’re getting the hang of it.” you cheered, turning around so you were fully facing your best friend. “that sounded so nice!”

peter giggles and bows his head, trying his best not to blush, but to no prevail.

“i’m a work in progress,” he says.

“aren’t we all?” you teased.

you glance over at your phone, eyes slightly widening at the time. you were really nervous that you were pushing peter too hard, but he assured you many times that he wanted to do this with you and that he would tell you if you were. so far, nothing but peter being absolutely sweet and patient with your teaching and rehearsal methods. sweet and patient as always, that’s who peter parker was — your peter.

“we should stop for a while, i don’t want you to strain your vocal chords.” you get up from the piano bench, shutting it slightly as you cross over to the couch, plopping down and patting a seat for peter to sit down.

“man, is this what it’s like to be on broadway?” peter asks, letting out a loud, tired sigh as he sits down next to you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“slow down, weirdo, we’re not broadway bound yet,” you laughed, nudging his side.

peters eyes grew soft as he looked up at you, his chin still resting on your shoulder. “but you will be someday.” he spoke with sweetness and reasurment.

your heart fluttered, “you really think i could make it to broadway, peter?”

“i know you will, you’re so talented. it’s insane how talented and driven you are, y/n/n.”

peter has never met anyone as hard working and determined as you. there wasn’t a time he knew you were you weren’t constantly on your feet, doing something that made you happy or something that you strongly felt for. you were hardly ever resting, which also worried him. you could never catch a break. nonetheless, he wanted to be there for you through it all.

and he would be, he promised not only you but himself that he would be there with you forever — and peter parker never breaks a promise.

you smile sweetly at your best friend, words fail to come out.

“say something, dork.” he teased.

you both laugh heartily, something you did quite often together.

“thanks peter. i really don’t know what i’d do without you.” you respond after a tiny fit of giggles filled the air.

“probably suck at life, i dunno.” peter jokes, giving an attempt to wink.

“shut up, nerd,” you scoff, laying your head on his lap, peters hands automatically going to your hair as he begins to massage your head gently.

a moment of comfortable silence filled the air, only hearing the metronome on the piano and peters steady breathing. worry started to fill his chest as he began to think about tomorrow; what if he messed up at the audition?

what if all this time and effort spent on you coaching him was an absolute waste. peter was not a performer - that was more your element, he was a nerd who loved the stars and comic books - that was his.

“something wrong?” you quipped, knowing that the sight of his eyes growing more ire wasn’t avoidable.

“what if i don’t make the show? i-i mean, you spent all this time and effort on helping me prepare, what if it’s not worth it? what if i can’t do it?”

“the last thing i wanna do is be the boy who disappoints his best friend.”

you sit up from peters lap, positioning yourself to where you were fully facing him, assuring him that you were listening and that you were there.

“look at me, pete, yeah?” peter does as you say, his puppy-like eyes dazzle over your skin.

“you do know i would never ask you to do something for me if i didn’t think you could do it, right?”

he nods and you continue to speak, “so i know you can do this, pete. i know you better than anyone, i know your heart and it’s full.”

“i know yours too. and it’s much fuller than mine, like hella full.”

“you’re being dorky now, stop it.” you nudge him.

“hey, but i’m your dork, remember?” peter playfully winks.

you tilt your head slightly, fully aware that peter parker was your best friend and always will be.

“no, you’re also my best friend.”

a hard, cold, pain hit peters chest - something that’s never occurred before. it was weird, it hurt: he didn’t like it at all. somehow, it only happened when you said the words ‘best friend’. you were his best friend, he couldn’t ask for a better one, but what if he wanted something more?

don’t be an idiot, parker. he shook off.

“best friends forever.” peter smiles through the broken heart, but held your hand anyway against his heart, that you somehow healed each time it was broken with that graceful smile of yours.

taglist: @lovelyspidey @akaspiderman @spiiderman @naturallytom @sunshinehollandd @plushparker @cutesparker @spideykiddo @spideyflicker @t-oodles @peterplanet @raspberryparker @sun-flowerparker @sunshinehollandd @underoos-shield @maryjparkers @curlytoms

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emeraldwaves · 5 years

Text

Title: A Dragon’s Magic Epilogue (FINAL CHAPTER) Pairing: Kacchako Rating: M Word Count: 2,673 Summary: Uraraka Ochako has always believed in dragons, though she was constantly told they were long since extinct. Now an adult and professional mage, she’s ready to help her parents as a healer for their village. The last thing she expects is for her beliefs to become a reality, but when a dragon attacks her village, she learns there’s more to magic than she ever could’ve realized. Read on AO3 Thanks to @its-love-u-asshole and @amaisenshi for reading this ahead of time. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SUPPORTED AND READ THIS FIC! I APPRECIATE IT <3

"You look absolutely beautiful, Ochako," her mother said, cupping her cheeks.

"It really does suit you! I can't believe you're going through with this," Mitsuki sighed. "My idiot son better know how lucky he is."

Ochako turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her stomach was completely exposed, her upper half covered by traditional dragon garb. The edge of the wrap was covered with fur and the long skirt she wore was also lined with fur. A necklace made of dragon scales sat around her neck and her boots were covered in scales as well.

Somehow, the traditional wedding garb of the dragons oddly did suit her.

"My perfect girl... I never thought I would see you again, and here you are about to get married!" Her mother pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

It was strange, a few months ago, her mother had hugged her before sending her off to take her magic proficiency test and now they were practically reliving the moment. Only, Ochako's life was going in a very different direction.

"I'm so happy you came, Mom," Ochako whispered, wrapping her arms around the woman.

Even after only a few months, so much had changed. Magic had mostly returned to the dragons, their current flowing like normal, and Ochako and Bakugou were finally getting married.

"Sweetheart, you know your father and I wouldn't miss this for the world," she said.

After returning the magic, one of the first things Bakugou and Ochako had done was go visit her parents. Though she wasn’t supposed to return to her village, her parents were on the outskirts enough they could hide for a short period of time.

"Thank goodness you’re okay," her mother had said, wrapping her arms tightly around her daughter. "Though I am surprised to see you still with the dragon who almost destroyed our village."

"I know it’s strange," Ochako had admitted, "but I promise, he’s not a bad person… er… dragon..."

"I fucking love your daughter," Bakugou had blurted out after that. Leaving both of her parents dumbfounded at the outburst.

It was strange, Ochako had expected her parents to be angry she was choosing to marry the person who had almost destroyed their village, but upon more conversation, they were mostly happy.

Her father was a little concerned, frowning at Bakugou through the majority of the conversation. But while Ochako told them of all her adventures, his face grew warmer.

She had explained the bond to them… how she had helped dragons find their magic again. It was so different from anything her parents had ever done, the two of them had been completely enthralled by the tales of her adventure.

"I guess I can’t complain if you’re taking good care of her," her father said.

"I already told you, I fuckin’ love her!" Bakugou snapped, folding his hands over his chest while Ochako wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Don’t worry I think they know that," she giggled.

The two had agreed to travel with them to dragon island to watch the marriage ceremony; Ochako’s mother was more than thrilled and had jumped into celebration planning with Mitsuki. Her mother was of course, going to make the cake.

Currently, her mother was trying to convince her father to move to the dragon village so they could be close all the time. Talk of babies had come up, and though Ochako wasn’t against the idea… it did seem a little soon. There were more adventures to discover.

As excited as her parents were, Iida and Deku, had been a little more difficult to convince. They were her two best friends though, and Ochako wanted them to be there.

"He's the dragon who almost destroyed our village!" Iida had proclaimed loudly.

"Y-You're going to marry him!?" Deku had looked pale.

Of course, Bakugou didn't do much to help his case when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and got a little possessive despite Ochako mentioning multiple times Deku and Iida were simply childhood friends. "Hell yes she's going to marry me, nerd!" he had snapped.

"O-Of course! R-Right!" Deku flailed, obviously not wanting to get into a fight with a dragon.

Regardless of their slight reservations, Ochako was happy Deku and Iida had come to watch the ceremony. She had missed them and was happy to share this occasion with them.

The door to the room creaked open, bringing Ochako back from her thoughts. "Knock knock!" Mina's cheerful voice called out, and her, Momo, and Kyouka peeked their heads in.

"Girls!" Ochako smiled. "I didn't expect you to come back here."

"Well, we're not the groom so it's allowed!" Mina said, stepping inside. Her pink robes were wrapped tightly around her swollen belly. Her and Kirishima were expecting their first child in the next few months, but Mina was still so full of energy. Kirishima seemed stressed she wouldn't calm down a little.

"Actually we didn't bring any of the boys," Kyouka chuckled. "I wasn’t going to let Denki in here even if I have been watching his every move." It was true. Ever since they’d returned, Kyouka had barely let Denki out of her sight. He had been forgiven when he had profusely apologized, especially since the magic was slowly returning. Still, he was doing everything in his power to not piss anyone else off, and Kyouka was making sure he stayed in check. She rarely left her mate’s side.

"Shouto wanted to come but I figured we shouldn't let any of them see you just in case," Momo said. Ochako was happy to hear she was finally calling him by his first name, especially since they were going to be completing the magic ritual in a few short weeks. "We were going to sit down first, but we wanted to come tell you how excited we are!" Momo continued.

"And maybe sneak a peek at how cute you looked!" Mina cheered excitedly, rushing to her to squeeze her hands.

The four girls had grown extremely close over the past few months and Ochako was grateful they had been so welcoming despite her being a human. Especially now their magic was back and no one was trapped in dragon form or forced to show their scales, everyone was in a much better mood.

Things on the dragon island had mostly returned to normal.

Which was why Mitsuki insisted Katsuki go through the traditional marriage ceremony. They did however compromise about reading aloud long vows, since the two of them had already done so privately during their magic ritual. Admittedly, Ochako wouldn't have cared if she had to say them again, but Katsuki much preferred to be private and Ochako was happy to oblige.

"You girls are too good to me," she giggled. She really was grateful to all of them for being so loving and welcoming.

"The outfit suits you so much!" Momo said, her eyes scanning her.

"Really? You guys don't think I look silly?"

"Well, normally we have our scales out a bit more, tail... or wings..." Mina hummed, "but since you don't have those things, there's no reason to feel silly."

"Okay..." she mumbled, knowing that was impossible for her anyway.

There was another knock at the door and Masaru peered in. "Hello?" he said, a smile pulled across his face. "Katsuki is ready for you! Just thought I'd come over and let you know." Masaru was a kind man, one Ochako had enjoyed getting to know since he had returned to his human form. She could understand why Katsuki would fight so hard for him. She was happy to see he was doing well.

"Ready?" Ochako squeaked. "He's always so fast!"

"Mhm..." he nodded. "Don't worry, if you need more time he can wait."

"Damn right he can wait! Ochako is too good for him," Mitsuki repeated, snarling as she stepped towards the door.

"Oh my gosh! We gotta go sit down!" Mina giggled. "You look perfect Ocha!" she said, waving her hand through the door as she and the other girls headed back out to the main hall.

"Good luck!" Kyouka teased.

"It'll be so beautiful," Momo sighed.

The room was oddly quiet, leaving Ochako with her mother alone. She chose to have both her mother and father to accompany her down the aisle, but for now, she didn't mind being alone with her mother.

"You seem... so much happier here, Ochako," she said, taking her hands.

"I really am," she whispered. "I never expected to... meet dragons and help them find their magic and... fall in love."

"You know the day you finished your magical test... feels so long ago," her mother sighed. "You had a look on your face, after everything was all said and done... and I knew," she said, gently stroking through the small side pieces of her hair, so not to ruin the small crown Mitsuki placed atop her head.

"You knew?" Ochako asked, tilting her head.

"Mhm. I knew you were going to find an adventure... something bigger than our small village. I was very right."

"You were," she giggled. "I blame Grandma."

Her mother let out a soft sigh, cupping Ochako's cheeks again. "She would be so proud. So excited to see you marrying a dragon."

"I wish I could tell her she was right... After all these years, she knew."

"I'm sure she knows she was right. I think she always knew."

"Me too," Ochako nodded.

Well... are you ready?"

"Mhm," she nodded. "Let's get Dad."

The two stepped outside of the room, her father was waiting by the exit. "There's my girl," he smiled. "You look stunning."

"Thanks," she said, blushing as she linked arms with both of her parents. "Are you sure you're both okay with this?" she asked, looking at both of them.

"I don't care who you marry as long as you're happy," her father said, gently tapping at her hand.

"I am. I'm so happy," she giggled, and she took the first step forward, opening the door.

"I think we can see that," her father chuckled.

Music began to play as she proceeded down the aisle with both of her parents. Deku and Iida both waved, smiling at her. Mirio, Tamaki and Nejire had even decided to join, despite Tamaki being terrified to interact with other dragons. The girls were bouncing with excitement. Todoroki was sat next to Momo and he nodded when Ochako walked by, a small smile on his face as well. She knew there was a part of him that, like her, still couldn’t believe this was real. However, he seemed much happier here as well.

Having all of her friends there made her want to cry. This was her life now, and she'd never felt more lucky.

Her gaze then fell upon Bakugou Katsuki and where he stood at the end of the aisle. His pants were heavy, and his boots were thick, lined with fur. His shirt was tight fitted and of course, his cape was draped over his shoulders, fur lining the hood. His wings stood proudly behind him and she could see the golden scales glistening on his cheeks. He looked similar to how he had when she first met him and it made her heart skip a beat.

He was looking at her too, his red eyes following her every move. It made her heart throb, and her stomach wiggle. She was excited and he was too, their bond deeper than ever before. She could even tell Katsuki was in the mood just from looking at her. It filled her heart with a little extra pride.

When they made it to the end of the aisle, Ochako turned to kiss her mother and then her father on the cheek, smiling as she let go of them to stand in front of Katsuki.

He smirked when she stepped in front of him. "Lookin' good, Cheeks," he muttered.

"Thanks," she giggled softly, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek. "I missed these."

"It's.. just tradition or whatever," he scoffed.

"They look nice," she said.

"'Course you think that," he teased.

"Hey-"

"Morning Ladies and Gentleman!" the head dragon began. He spoke loudly, interrupting Bakugou and Ochako's conversation. Not that she minded, she couldn't keep bantering with him, as much as she enjoyed it.

She took her hands, wrapping them around Bakugou's and his fingers squeezed hers. She glanced at him, her brown eyes wide and full of excitement. His red eyes stared at her with an intensity she knew well. She could feel how much he loved her.

"We’re gathered here today to officially proclaim Bakugou Katsuki and Uraraka Ochako to be mates. Though this woman is a human, she has agreed to share in our customs and our rituals and the magical bond these two already share is nothing to scoff at.”

Ochako’s chest felt warm, buzzing with excitement and it was a mixture of his joy and love and her own. She glanced down at his chest, wondering if he felt it just as much as she did.

It was strange, even knowing she wasn’t a dragon… this moment felt perfect, comfortable. Like she was meant to be here. Fate had finally led her in the proper direction.

The dragon head turned to both of them. "I suppose this whole thing might feel a little strange, since you two have already mated and bonded but… let’s do this the proper way shall we?"

Ochako nodded quickly. There was nothing she wanted more, and though Bakugou rolled his eyes, Ochako could see the red on his cheeks dusting over his scales. He was always so damn stubborn.

"Do you, Bakugou Katsuki, choose Uraraka Ochako to be your mate? Do you promise to protect her and care for her and never break this sacred bond you two will soon share?" The lead dragon spoke, turning to Bakugou first.

With a long huff, Bakugou nodded. "I swear I will," he stated, his eyes burning bright. "I love her."

Her chest felt warmer.

"Do you, Uraraka Ochako, choose Bakugou Katsuki to be your mate, despite being human? Do you promise to care for him and never break the sacred bond you two will soon share?"

"We already share a sacred bond," she whispered. This only made it better. "I promise. I love him with all my heart."

The leader smiled. "Perfect. Please seal your bond with a kiss, the final ritual will take place in private amongst you two, but let it be known to your friends and family you two are now mates, the strongest connection dragons can share, and no one can break the bond tying you two together for eternity."

Katsuki stepped forward and wrapped his hands around her cheeks, pulling their lips together. He kissed her gently, sucking softly on her lower lip. She let out a quiet hum, excited for later when they could have the private time the leader spoke of.

The entire crowd cheered and Katsuki pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Cheeks," he muttered, soft enough that only she could hear, private words just for her.

"I love you too, Katsuki," she said, knowing she meant every word. A smile pulled across her lips. "Should we go... celebrate?"

He took her hand in his own. "Hell yes!"

They were mates now. Officially together forever, though regardless of the ceremony, Ochako knew Katsuki would never leave her side, just as she never wanted to leave his.

As they ran down the aisle, hand in hand, Ochako just knew there were going to be many more adventures for them in the future. She had no idea where they would go or what they would do, but she had a feeling she was going to love them all almost as much as she loved Bakugou Katsuki.

Together, they would always be by each other's side; connected by their hearts and their magic.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #fantasy au #final chapter #<3

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weretheones · 5 years

Text

Just Go- Daryl Dixon

Plot/Request: Your first solo run with Daryl was supposed to be quick and easy, but it ends up being quite the opposite. When Daryl ignores his only exit to run back and save you, you can’t help but wonder why. (Set in early S3, before the Governor)

Word Count:  3,142

Warnings: swearing, rusty writing skills lol

Note: i haven’t written something like this is over a year... sorry if its not great. luv u all <3 part 2 will be up probably sunday (unless i get impatient and release it tomorrow...) and more fics are coming soon! ;)

—————————————————————————————

You awoke to the sunrise, the rays falling against your pillow. Your eyes burned as they fluttered open, craving more sleep. With a grunt you rubbed them softly, propping yourself up on your right elbow and cowering from the bright light.

When the memories of the night before popped up, you felt your stomach knot. Rick had asked you to go for a quick run with Daryl, just to an abandoned strip of stores nearby. It was simple enough, in and out, grab whatever supplies you could find on the trip. It wasn’t the run itself that made you nervous, it was Daryl.

The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but you made a great team. You constantly bickered, teased another, yet a walker didn’t stand a chance against you two. Perhaps that's why Rick chose you to go with Daryl, or maybe he was punishing you for embarrassing him the other night in a game of cards. Whatever the reason, you were stuck with it. With him.

You groaned again, sitting up fully and stretching your arms above your head, loving the feeling of the bones in your back crack. You were thankful for the comfort of the prison, having your own cell, your own bed. You really were, but hell did you miss having a nice bed. Maybe you should check for a mattress shop, you thought, then chuckled at yourself.

Now standing up, you walked over to the small mirror over your sink. In the sink, which didn’t actually work, you had a small orange bucket filled with water. You splashed it up to your face, then pat your skin dry with the lower hem of your shirt. Looking back up to the mirror you took in your appearance. The grease in your hair was slowly caking your hair, but it was nothing a shower couldn’t fix. There was no use to do it now, you’d probably just come home from the run dirty again. Other than that, you looked, for the most part, normal.

For the most part.

You grabbed the hairbrush from your shelf and brushed your hair back into a low, but tight, ponytail. You stepped back, grabbing your knife and gun from the chair beside your bed.

Before you left your cell you grabbed a thin sweater from the edge of your bed, throwing it on as you left. As you walked along the quiet hall of the prison, you hugged yourself, loving the warmth it created.

Walking into the common area you quickly grabbed a granola bar and an apple, slightly tossing the apple in the air. You began to step away but looked back at the last minute. You had a thought to grab another for Daryl, just in case he hadn’t eaten yet. You knew the archer well, regardless of your rocky relationship with him, you knew he would skip meals often.

A sigh left your lips, grabbing a second granola bar and holding it in your other hand as you ate the apple. You walked out the prison, assuming Daryl was probably outside already.

You opened the door with a loud creak, noticing Daryl’s head turn back to you as you did so. You started walking faster to him. He turned back, looking out on the horizon as the sun finished rising. You noticed a cigarette in his fingers, it was almost finished.

"Hey,” You nodded, he grunted with a nod back. You sat down beside him, finishing your apple as he finished his cigarette.

“You watch the sunrise?” You asked, looking at him. His blue eyes flickered to yours, the cigarette still in his mouth.

He nodded again, removing it from his mouth and softly mumbled, “Yeah.”

You took a bite of your apple, letting the two of you slip into silence.

But then Daryl groaned loudly, “Can ya eat that thing any louder?”

You glared at him, swallowing the chewed apple in your mouth. Was he serious? It was a fucking apple, it crunches. But you knew saying so would only aggravate him.

You sighed, “Can we not do this today, I mean, we already have to spend the next few hours together. We might as well do it not fighting.”

He only scoffed, “Fine.”, then turned back to smoke.

After a few moments, you’d finished your apple (thankfully without hearing about it a second time from Daryl), throwing the core to the grassy area of the field. He took one last drag, finishing his smoke and flicking it to the ground before standing up from the bench to stomp it.

“Ya ready?” He asked. You noticed two backpacks on the bench, one for him, one for you. He grabbed one, throwing it over his shoulders and held out the other for you.

You grabbed it and nodded, “You know where we’re going?”

“Yeah, Rick gave me a map.”

Quickly peaking inside the bag he’d packed for you, you noticed a water bottle, almost full, and a small bag of peanuts. You threw your granola bar inside, grabbing the one from your pocket and extending it to him.

“Here.” You mumbled, barely making eye contact. He eyed the bar, shaking his head.

“’M good, thanks.”

You sighed, “Daryl,” Looking at him sternly now. “Cigarettes aren’t breakfast. You need to eat.”

“Said ‘m good.” He grunted, walking past you.

You knew how stubborn he was. Telling him to eat again would only make him refuse it more. Plus, as you’d said earlier, you didn’t want to fight with him today of all days.

“Whatever you say, Dixon.”

“We’re takin’ my bike.” He nodded to it, propped up against the fence. “Quicker, easier.”

“Louder.” You countered, an eyebrow raised. He ignored your quip, instead standing his bike up and kicking up the stand. He was right, it was much faster. Plus it was better to leave the car for the group to use in case they had to.

He sat down on the bike, scooting forward to make some room for you. You sat behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He tensed at your touch, and you suddenly realized this was much closer than you’d thought. You could feel his muscles underneath his shirt. Your chest pressed tight to his back...

The rumble of the engine starting pulled you from your thoughts. He pushed off the ground, letting the bike move down the path where Glenn, who was on watch duty by the front gate opened it for you two. You nodded at him as you rode past.

The ride left you with time to think. You couldn’t really talk to Daryl over the sound of the engine, not as if he’d talk much anyways. Instead, you let your mind wander.

You’d been with the group since the farm. Being one of the Greene’s only surviving neighbours, you were lucky to be able to seek refuge there. Your own farm had been taken over by the dead. At first, you didn’t think much of Daryl. There was no doubt he was interesting, but nothing to obsess over. But as time passed, as you watched him get hurt over and over again searching for a little girl, you finally realized how special he was.

You’d never admit it, at least not to Daryl, but behind your witty snarks and remarks was deep care for the man. To put it simply, you had a crush. Though you weren’t sure if it was merely that anymore.

You sighed, resting your check against Daryl’s vest. Normally, you never would’ve done so, he never would’ve let you, but you were tired. You didn’t care. The seams of the angel wings on his vest tickled your skin, you didn’t care about that either.

You weren’t completely sure how long had passed, maybe an hour and a half, maybe longer. As you lifted your head, resting your chin on Daryl’s shoulder, you noticed a blur of buildings becoming clearer and clearer. It seemed like a small town, with this mall strip at the edge of it.

You thought perhaps you could scavenge the homes too, they might have food. But as the buildings became clearer, you noticed they had been destroyed. It seemed a fire had taken over the town, leaving only the mall strip standing.

Daryl slowed to a stop, letting you hop off the bike before he kicked the stand down, sliding off next. You adjusted your backpack, looking over the stores before back at him. There were only four, two convenience-type stores, a pharmacy, and a clothing store.

He walked ahead of you a few steps, then looked it over himself. After a moment he pointed to the furthest end, “We’ll start there, make our way back.”

“Gotcha,” You mumbled. You walked, straying a few feet behind him, to the furthest store. It read ‘Jimmy’s Convenience’ above it.

The first two stores were easy enough, in and out, kill any stray walkers and grab what you can. So far you’d picked up some toiletries, a pack of bandaids and some warm water bottles. You’d seen Daryl grab two packs of pasta and two cans of corn and a case of six energy bars. He’d emptied it out, throwing the single bars in his bag to save space.

Considering you still had two stores to go, you were feeling hopeful.

The next store was a clothing store. You felt excited at the thought of new underwear, socks and if you were really lucky, a new pair of jeans. The pair you had now was ripped, stained with blood and dirt and loose around your body.

Daryl walked in first, crossbow raised high as he searched the store for any walkers. You followed suit, your knife held high, ready to stab anything that came your way.

He looked back to you after noticing the store was empty and nodded. You nodded back, sliding your knife back into its spot on your hip. You relaxed slightly at Daryl’s look then began looking around for anything useful.

It was somewhat hard to see around, the windows had been covered with newspapers for the most part. It seemed that three-quarters of the way up they’d ran out. Lucky for you, it allowed some sunlight to sneak into the store, so you weren’t completely dependent on your flashlights.

The two of you took an aisle at a time, checking for anything warm or valuable. You knew some of the group’s sizes, but it didn’t matter that much. Whatever you found would be good enough.

As you looked through the second aisle, you found a plaid long sleeve that looked particularly warm. You glanced back to Daryl, who continued searching his area. It looked big enough, you thought and stuffed it in your bag. If not, you could just give it to Rick instead. As you reached the end of the aisle you saw it.

Daryl approached you, a plastic bag full of clothes. “Find anything?” He asked crossbow slung over his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. I did.” You smiled largely, chuckling at the sight. In front of you was possibly the ugliest shirt you’d seen. You dashed to it, ripping it off the rank to hold in all its glory. It was a combination of, god, you couldn’t say how many patterns and all the colours of the rainbow.

He scoffed at you, shaking his head. He was hard to read, you couldn’t tell if he was completely fed up with you, or slightly amused. Probably a bit of both.

“Looks about your size, Dixon.” You winked, ripping it off the hanger and throwing it at him.

He shot back, “Stop fucking around.”

“I’m serious, I think you’d look hot.” You teased, eyeing him up and down for a split second before looking back around the store. You kicked the fallen shirt to the side as you walked past him. He gave you a lingering stare as you walked by. You tried to ignore the feeling it gave you, how your cheeks became pink, your body hot.

“Shut up.” He huffed loudly, now mostly annoyed by you.

You looked up at him, noticing his jaw clenching and deciding to ease up on him. “Ok, fine, sorry.” You mumbled half-assed. “Find anything yourself?”

“Yeah, socks, shirts.” Daryl raised the bag slightly with his answer.

“Alright, I’m gonna check the women’s section, then we’re done.” You said to him, turning back around, mumbling under your breath, “I hope they still have jeans.”

"Ain’t nothin’ wrong with yours.” He scoffed.

“They’re disgusting.”

You half expected him to comment about you acting like a ‘princess’, but he said nothing in return. He followed you as you made your way to the back of the store. As you walked, you noticed a door. You made a note of it in the back of your mind, reading the ‘EXIT’ sign above.

You gasped softly at the sight of a jean rack, picking up your pace. He watched you jog across the store, like a kid at a candy shop. For a split second, Daryl felt his heart flutter at your excitement. It was something he’d been feeling more often lately, but couldn’t explain why... He didn’t understand it.

You yelped, “Yes!” as you noticed they had a pair in your size. You smiled largely, stuffing it in your bag as you searched the rest of the area. No more uncomfortable, ugly jeans, you thought.

After a few more moments, grabbing a pack of underwear and some sweaters for the others back home, you looked to Daryl. He was leaning against a shelf with his elbow resting on the cold metal, his right foot crossed over the left. In his hands he fiddled with something, you weren’t sure what. It didn’t matter.

“Done shoppin’?” He quipped.

“Yeah.” You nodded. He turned cooly, not giving you a second look and began walking to the front of the store when a loud slap against glass sounded. The pair of you stopped immediately, your knife and his crossbow raised. He looked back to you, giving you a sharp look to stay behind him. You nodded swiftly, following him. When you turned the corner to face the windows of the store your heart dropped.

Although the newspaper covered your view of them, you could make out the outlines from the sun behind them. Walkers were pressed against the glass, smacking against it with their boney hands. Daryl motioned you to turn and get out the back. You dashed through the store, him closely behind you.

When you reached the back door, you tried opening it slowly enough to check if it was clear but noticed there was something pushing against it. Something too heavy for you to push out of the way.

“Daryl,” You snapped, gaining his attention to you. He’d been watching the windows, hoping they’d hold out long enough for the two of you to make it out. “I can’t get it open. There's something in front of it.”

“Move.” He grunted, throwing his crossbow back over his shoulder and pushing with both hands. He groaned out loud, the sound of glass cracking making the both of your hearts speed up. He stepped back for a moment, unsuccessful.

He smashed his body against the door again, pushing with all his might. You watched the window with panicked eyes, glancing back and forth between it and Daryl. His feet scrambled underneath him as he continued to push.

Then the sickening sound of glass shattering, then overlapping groans filled the store. Your heart stopped, watching at the further window collapsed, allowing the walkers to flood into the building.

“Fuck it, Daryl, we have to find another way.” You grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away. Urgency was thick in your voice. The walkers weren’t far, but Daryl was determined.

“Come on.” He groaned under his breath, slamming his shoulder against it. A glimmer of hope filled both of you as it budged forward slightly. With the budge, you heard the sound of loud metal scraping against the ground. That was only sure to draw in more walkers.

Your eyes snapped back to the front of the store. The walkers, they were too close. You’d have to fight them.

You approached the first one, driving your knife into its skull quickly. Then the second. Then the third. But when you came across the fourth, another was quickly behind it. You stabbed the first one, kicking in the kneecap of the second. But your knife wouldn’t budge from its spot in the previous walker’s head. And then two more approached.

While you’d been fighting, Daryl opened the gap enough to just squeeze through. He looked back at you, then the door. More walkers flooded throughout the backfield, quickly blocking any and all exits.

You noticed too. But you were still stuck fighting off the walkers inside. He’d have to leave you to get away in time. There was no way there’d be enough time for you to get away too.

“Run!” You yelled, the lower walker grabbing at your legs. You looked back to it to kick it away, screaming back at Daryl again, “Just go! Leave!”

He stared at you for a moment, panic in his eyes. You looked away, continuing to fight the walkers in front of you. Finally, your knife came loose from the walker's skull, so you continued fighting. Then you heard the door slam close, you couldn’t tell if you felt heartbroken or happy. At least Daryl would survive, at least he’d get away.

Then one of the walkers to your right collapsed, an arrow lodged in its eye. You snapped your head back, eyes wide, seeing the archer stand there.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” He yelled, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the walkers. Daryl remembered a closet at the back of the store from where he was scavenging, he lead you there. It was far enough for the walkers to lose sight of you too, at least long enough for you to hide in time. The door swung open easily and he jumped in, pulling your body quickly inside too. He shut it softly, as not to alert them.

You breathed heavily, body pushed against his. The room was smaller than the average supply closet. There was barely enough room for you to move from Daryl, nonetheless fight walkers if they barged in.

They stumbled along, the groans and moans louder and louder until they lingered just outside the door. You felt panic begin to sweep over you until you noticed Daryl’s touch.

His hands hadn’t left your shoulders yet, his fingers pressed into your skin gently, almost soothingly, as he watched the door, silent as could be. You relaxed into his touch. Your heart rate slowed slightly, but then you wondered...

Why didn’t he save himself?

part two

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead one shot #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon fic #norman reedus #daryl / reader #daryl dixon / reader #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic

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rkxblue · 5 years

Text

happy #rkfifth !

i told myself i wasn’t going 2 do this b/c ... i’m lazy bean, but here we are anyway! let’s get it!

but anyways starting off rookies was kind of like a vacation to me, rp wise. before rk i had my own rp that lasted a while but during 2013, there was just some drama between members that i constantly had 2 deal with and honestly it was like ... dragging me down, making admining seem like a chore and i loathed logging on to the main b/c i knew there would be some shit w/ these certain people that i had to deal with. so seeing rk in the tags being a different kind of idol roleplay ( and shout out rk for being a trendsetter ) /and/ the fact that reserves were filling up so quickly for a new rp, i quickly sent in a muse.

and it was a little ... idk at first. i did feel out of place considering most came from a different rp in the beginning and i wasn’t, and on top of me being v awkward w/ talking 2 people on instant messengers, there was a bit of time where i felt like i didn’t fit in and almost dropped like 2 weeks after i joined, LOL. luckily at the time a lot of things were going on which helped w/ plotting and meeting new muses, and everyone was super friendly and nice and that’s what kept me here!!!

so then rk turned from a vacation you didn’t want to leave from -- i ended up slagging off p majorly on my responsibilities as an admin at my own rp for a while because i was having such a good time at rk -- it rly brought back my love for rp and muse and tbh if you look back at rksunyoung’s archive back in 2013 - early 2014, i don’t think i’ve ever written as much on tumblr as i did back then, LOL. rk has definitely had it’s ups and downs and i’ve dropped both of my muses before -- but it wasn’t too long before i was bringing them back because there really isn’t a place like rk within krp. that, along with the dedication between both members and admins, is why it’s lasted so long and is still thriving with a super active dash after five fucking years. that’s crazy!! i think i remember mei saying something similar on twitter -- but when i see old rp friends and they ask “omg ur /still/ at rk???”

so it’s obvious to see why this rp went from feeling like a vacation to a home, right?? it’ll always have a special place in my heart ♡

anyways moving on to my characters too -- when i first brought rksunyoung, now miss rkxblue, i never thought that she would last more than a couple of months, much less be involved with so many things within rk’s history!! it’s ... p wild to think about, especially since i’m someone that has a hard time committing to hobbies and such. it’s been a fun ride watching her go from someone who was wild and reckless and had a problem with love and a little bit of anger issues to someone whos a lot more well rounded, a soft idiot LOL. she even finally got herself the sweetest boyfriend after four years of being shipless on the rp, which i still can’t wrap my head around because denying herself love and believing that it doesn’t exist was one of her /things/ for the longest time. the list of stuff she’s done is so long and now that it’s lead to her finally debuting it’s ... scary yet exciting for her, to be honest, she thought she’d be a trainee forever!! i’ve had a lot of ups and downs with her muse as well, to the point where there was like years ( i think ) of inactivity on my end and she should have 4238972389 more points than she does atm because of that. i do feel sorry for her b/c that was just me being lazy ofc, but in the end i’ve gotten my shit together on her and have been pumping out replies p consistently this year and plotting w/ trainees which has done wonders for her muse. and although hyomin was literally /the/ perfect fc for her considering her personality, the fc change 2 yura has also helped majorly with my muse and it’s been so much easier to plot and reply and even with her characterization too.

as for miss rknvna!! she hasn’t had as much development as sun, aside from her tumultuous rls with a former song minho and being a royal trainee during her first run, and that’s mainly been due to my laziness again jfkafl;a. the good thing tho is that i’ve finally been able to experience life as a rookie with her, considering the times my girls have become trainees were v quick ( sun’s first time was like a week or two after the rp opened, then 3 months after i rejoined w/ her, and nana became a trainee only a month after she joined the first time ) so it was nice to experience the freedom that came with being a rookie!! since 2018 has been sun’s year, i’m going to focus on nana for 2019 so that she can branch out more!!

i guess before i move on i should give shoutouts to all my other rkmuses throughout the years whose lives were so short that i can’t even remember their urls LOL -- my song jieun, park kyungri, goo hara, and choi jinri muses!! i’m sure there’s at least one more that i’m forgetting, but they all lasted around 2 weeks so...

but i also want 2 thank rk for allowing me to be more social as well!! i’ve said this in the last anniversary post i wrote 25238957 years ago but i used 2 have a phobia of sorts when it came 2 instant messengers, so i didn’t rly have one when msn was popping and therefore, didn’t talk 2 many people ooc wise in rps. i made an aim when i came to rk and just ... diving in and talking to people helped out a lot with that, even if i do still get anxious from time to time w/ just simply messaging people. :(

i’m a shy individual ( and for some reason its only exacerbated online??? idk fam ) and unconsciously rather private as well, so that definitely hinders me from making friends as much as i would like to, but it’s a day by day process!! it’s something i’ve come 2 terms w/ as of late and will seriously work on within the next year! but even w/ me being the way that i am, i’ve been able 2 meet a couple of people that have made my experience in rk just a little bit brighter so a ( very brief ) shout out 2 them ~

to maria ( @rkjinkis ) : my sweet angel!!! i’m so glad that rk brought us together because you’ve honestly become one of my closest friends from this rp and in general tbh!! ur so super sweet and caring and a blessing 2 my life, just as much as jinki is to ahyoung’s!! i’m sorry that sun is too independent for her own good but she’s working on it okay!! baby steps!! i love how genuine u are and how we can rely on each other through thick and then, and honestly i want the world for u and more. i love love love LOVE u so much, and i’ll make sure u never forget it!! thank u for being my friend and my source of happiness!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

to hamin ( @rksoohyun ) : despite the fact that we knew each other from snu it was rk that actually got us 2 start talking and i’m so grateful for that!! u literally are the cutest girl in the entire world and ur just as outgoing irl as u are online; seeing morning musume ( a group i thought i would never see live ) w/ u was truly a highlight in my life!!! and ofc soohyun will forever be nana’s fuckin child and she’ll always be rooting for her happiness!! i love u u sweet buttercup and i can’t wait until ur back so i can talk 2 u again!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

to mei ( @rkariel ) : man i admired u for the longest b/c i’ve always loved the way u write and ur characterization of tiffany / ariel, so when years ago nick told me that u were actually paying attention to the minana plot and threads i was so shook i nearly tripped over myself LMFAO. i’m happy that we actually started talking b/c of that tho!!! it’s so easy 2 write w/ u and i honestly have so much fun regardless if we’re just talking about our characters, getting carried away on dash or twitter, or hurting each other w/ headcanons!! ariel has become nana’s rock p much and w/o her i’m not sure how she would of fared her time w/ mino w/o her and their discussions!!! i hope that we can become closer in the future!!

to razel ( @rkcheri ) : hiya boo!!! ik we don’t rly talk anymore but i still wanted 2 mention u b/c u were one of my first friends in rk when i felt kinda lonely, and that was definitely one of the reasons i was able to stick around!! i loved writing w/ u b/c ur writing style was always so unique that i could actually point u out whenever we were in past rps together and it’s an honor 2 even write w/ u fjkalf;a. i’m sorry that sun is such a shitty friend and i’m looking forward 2 the day jihyun kicks her ass about not telling her about jinki b/c she deserves it LOL. but just, thank u!!!!

to amy ( @yienrk ) : are u surprised ur on here?? HAHA we don’t talk too much either but i do appreciate u checking up on me whenever i’m down and just generally being supportive and nice!!! also i’m in awe about how knowledgeable u are about idols in general ( i remember one of our first convos being about how sixteen came 2 be and the collapse of all of jype’s trainees and such ) and i love yien and nana’s supportive relationship too!! i can’t wait 2 see how they develop, and i hope 2 get closer 2 u in the future!! ; u ;

to eclipse girls ( @rkariel , @rkaudrey , @rkhaseul , @rkjennie , @rkyeri ) sun couldn’t of asked 2 debut w/ a better group of girls and i’m so glad that they harmonize w/ each other so well!! i’m excited 2 see what debuting brings for them!! ♡ ♡ ♡

and a shoutout 2 snu crew too ( piper / hoonji, nanu, @rksang, @rktomu, @rksoohyun , @rkjinhwan94, @rkpcy ) : even tho ik majority of u probably won’t see this i’m still tagging and talking about y’all anyway!!! i have so much fun reminiscing w/ u guys whenever we can, and i’m happy that i’ve grown closer too u all as well!! i’m sorry i was such a shit admin back in the day, and what brought y’all together was bad circumstances, but i’m glad it’s something that we can all look back on and laugh at now. i miss being together w/ all of u at once but i hope y’all are doing okay!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

and naturally, the admods too!!! thank u guys for putting up w/ all my shit whenever i was in a slump or i sent in points late or fucked up the points ( honestly kyle u are such an angel for real LOL ), and for just keeping the rp in tip top shape!!! ur the back bone of rk and we couldn’t of made it this far w/ each and every one of u and ur contributions and dedication 2 the rp!!! i’m super proud of u guys and am proud 2 call u my admins!!!! ♡

and ofc shoutout 2 everyone that i’ve ever plotted and threaded w/ in the past and present -- i’m super shit at replying 2 those in general so thank u for being patient w/ me even though i don’t deserve it. i don’t know how else 2 end this b/c i’m also super shit at ending things so uh.... happy fifth year anniversary rk!!! here’s to many more!!!

#❛ ▼ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‹‹ misc • OOC ››#rkfifth #* this is a hot mess but i hope y'all can follow fjkalfja;

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outrowings · 7 years

Text

five ways to say “i love you”

(my gif)

description: the one where taehyung learns about love

genre: fluff with lil tidbits of angst, best friend!au, friends to lovers!au, high shoool!au, college!au

pairing: reader x kim taehyung

word count: 4,306

warnings: brief mention of blood

inspired (oddly enough) by this fic by @lthyl ; (i’m not entirely sure how, they’re completely unrelated, regardless u should read that fic its amazing!) special thanks to @lyselena for helping me edit and for her love while i was writing this

1. band-aids

Your foot caught on something. Most likely it was a bit of raised tarmac on the uneven playground you spent nearly every day of your summer on. You landed hands and knees first, the ground scraping your skin and the sun heated blacktop searing you. You felt tears prick your eyes before you felt the pain in your limbs.

“Are you okay?”

Taehyung stood over you at 3 and a half feet tall and 7 years old, but the concern in his eyes and his voice was far beyond his years. Your game of tag was long forgotten, though you half expected him to poke your shoulder with a cheeky grin on his face and speed away from you.

You rolled onto your butt to survey the damage to your knees, but before you could so much as glance at the wounds, a terrified gasp left Taehyung’s mouth.

“Stay here, Y/N! I’ll get our moms!” he yelled with urgency and ran off just as you had expected him to, but with a much different purpose. You could taste iron in your mouth at the sight of your bloodied knees. Glancing up, you saw Taehyung sprinting to the other side of the park where your mother and his were taking a stroll. For one day this summer, you were thankful that your best friend was a fast runner. The other days that you spent playing tag and chasing each other rather than wounded on the ground, not so much.

The tears streamed freely down your cheeks as you saw the two adults hasten on their way to you, Taehyung dragging them by the wrist. Your mother pulled alcohol swabs and band-aids out of her purse and you grimaced at the materials, familiar with the sting that the medical supplies indicated was imminent. Taehyung saw the look on your face and his seven year old mind told him that his best friend was scared.

With all the grace of your own fall, he dropped his butt on the hot blacktop beside you and laced your fingers with his own. Taehyung gripped your hand as fiercely as he could, hindered only by having the strength of a child, but aided by his need to see you unafraid again.

Your mother dabbed at your knees with the swabs and your grip on Taehyung’s hand tightened, your knuckles turning white along with his. But it didn’t hurt Taehyung. What hurt Taehyung was seeing the tears stream faster down your face and not being able to do anything about it. Taehyung didn’t understand love, not completely, not yet. But he knew that love was the concern in your mother’s eyes when she saw your scrapes. He knew love was the way his own mother looked at you with sympathy as if you were her own daughter. He knew love was being unable to see his best friend hurt.

2. baskets

The scoreboard was lit up in red, as if the sheer size of it on the gymnasium wall and the fact that your team was losing by a point with little time left wasn’t discouraging enough. Seven seconds on the clock and you stood in a huddle with your teammates and coach as he ran you through the strategy to winning the semifinal round of the middle school basketball playoffs.

Your sweat held your jersey to your skin and you resisted urge to pry the itchy material away from your body and rip it off. The broken air conditioner in the old gym didn’t help your situation. Neither did the fact that you were at your opposing team’s school with most of the crowd cheering for them.

What did help was seeing your best friend, your mother, and his mother in the fifth row of the bleachers cheering for you and your team. Taehyung held a sign that read “#23 is my best friend” in messy writing with a giant heart beside the word friend. The sign itself was in an obnoxiously bright orange color and he waved it around reminding you of the crossing guard you always saw on your way to school. It was almost as bright as the smile on his face, visible to you even from the court.

You moved to take your spot at the baseline, the timeout being called to an end, but not before hearing “Go Y/N!” and “Go Wildcats!” in the voice of your best friend. But you were much too worried about the bright red numbers on the scoreboard telling you that you had seven seconds to score two points to make it to the championships, so you couldn’t be embarrassed by Taehyung’s enthusiasm, even given that you were playing on an away court with a crowd of aggressive parents cheering for the other team.

The referee handed the ball to you at the base line and you rolled it to your teammate, hoping to preserve as much time as possible. You ran ahead of her to meet your defender on the opposite end of the court. The silence in the gymnasium only aided the deafening tension you felt in your stomach. Your teammate picked up the ball at the half court line and the clock began to run. The chanting of the audience counting down the seconds was drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in you ears.

Six!

Five!

You sidestep your defender.

Four!

You call for the ball.

Three!

The ball lands in your open palms and you turn towards the basket.

Two!

You bend your knees and elbows and launch the ball from well outside the three point line, the shot a risky one that has your coach, your teammates, you mother, Taehyung, and his mother all crossing their fingers and the opposing team expecting a celebratory pizza party.

One!

The ball moves towards the basket faster than you expect. You are not ready for your season to end.

You can’t hear the crowd but you can hear the sound the ball makes when it moves through the net.

Thunk!

You hear the ball hit the wooden floor and the buzzer ring, but both are drowned out by the yelling from your team suddenly surrounding you. You don’t see, but Taehyung gets down from the fifth row of the bleachers in a single leap. He fights his way through your teammates just to place his own hands on your shoulders and pull you into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N,” he whispers into your ear so no one can hear, because it’s just for you, his best friend. He picks you up and spins you around, though it’s difficult because you stand half a head taller than him.

Your smile cannot grow bigger.

Taehyung still doesn’t understand love, not at thirteen with a curious and undeveloped mind, but he does understand friendship and he knows there isn’t much of a difference. He knows love is how his mother attends all of your basketball tournaments with him, the fondness on her face obvious throughout each game. He knows love is the way your mother will hug you just as tight whether you win or lose a game and tell you what you need to improve on whether the night ends in victory or defeat. He knows love is the pride that swells in his chest when you, his best friend, scores a basket and demonstrates to the world (or in this case, middle school parents) your talent and passion. He knows it’s when you lose the championship, but he feels the same pride despite the defeat because he saw you play with everything you have.

3. bad dates

The music sucked, but that was to be expected given your school’s low budget and poor taste in DJs. Of course what sucked worse was seeing your date grinding with another girl on the dance floor while you were sitting at a table, fiddling with the cheap white cloth that covered it and sipping water from your tacky plastic wine glass.

He had been a perfect gentleman, dancing with you, opening doors for you, and complimenting you, right up until after the first slow song twenty five minutes into prom. He had removed his hands from where they were resting on your hips and told you (not even asked), “I’m going to dance with other girls.” So here you were, looking pretty and sad in your beautiful gown, corsage on your wrist matching a tie on a boy that was currently nowhere near you. You weren’t crying (yet), but you were pretty close. The only thing holding back your tears was the cheesy summer bop playing that annoyed you too much to allow you to cry.

“Hey best friend,” you heard from beside you and your eyes moved from focusing on a stain on the tablecloth to meet Taehyung’s.

“Hey,” you said dejectedly unable to hide your feelings. "Where’s your date?“ you asked, and by that he knew you meant, "Is your date any better than mine?” and “Why are you hanging out with me when you’re at prom with a girl you’ve been crushing on?”

He pulled out a chair next you, letting you know silently that you looked bummed and that he was here to help. "She’s dancing with her friends because she got bored of me. You know, I think I like her better in my head and also I don’t think she likes me very much,“ he says oddly happily.

"That sucks.” Your monotonous tone had him raising an eyebrow. "I seriously mean it, I’m sorry,“ you try again with a little more emotion.

He sighs. "Nah. I’m mostly okay with it.”

The tears pool at the rims of your eyes. "Hey wanna leave?“ he asks suddenly. You nod as quickly as you can. "Okay let me just tell my date I’m leaving.” You nod again and watch as he disappears into the bodies on the dance floor.

Taehyung reappears within moments and grabs your hand, helping you up.

“Wait,” you tell him, stopping him by tugging on his hand. He turns to look at you, the strobe lights decorating the high school gym illuminating your face in flashes of blue. Taehyung sees the sadness in your eyes and it unknowingly reflects as worry in his own orbs. "How do we get past security? We’re not supposed to leave before it ends.“ you point out to him.

At this, he shows you his signature square smile. "Why m'lady,” he begins, his voice adopting a poorly imitated British accent and his hand pulling you closer to him. You can’t help but roll you eyes at this. "Through the locker rooms of course.“

Taehyung leads you past the dance floor where you catch a glimpse of your date and a girl who was apparently now his date and your heart sinks a little more. But before you know it, you’re in the dark in the boys locker room adjoined with the gym and Taehyung is fumbling with his phone to switch on the flashlight option. He leads you through the cold room dotted with the smell of sweat and out into the night, the stars shining radiantly above you as if to light up the way to parking lot.

You follow him to his dad’s car, loaned to him for the night so as to impress his date. "Are we going home?” you ask.

He looks at you as the two of you climb in the car and fasten your seatbelts. "Depends. Do you want to go home?“ he asks, softly, as if he’s afraid to break you.

You look forward, set in your decision not to shed a tear and voice hardened, "No. Let’s go to McDonald’s.”

The car roars to life, masking his quiet chuckle. "That’s more like my best friend,“ he says to you, as he pulls out of the parking lot.

You eat your chicken nuggets with him in the brightly lit restaurant, talking about nothing and everything, except prom and your date and things of that nature. He knows not to say anything because despite the smile on your face, he can see tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to spill.

His pink tie clashes with your green dress, both now visible in the light, but his black suit jacket, which he places over your shoulders as you are leaving the McDonald’s, matches your shoes perfectly. When he starts the car, the dashboard display reads 11:43, telling you that prom is long over and that you spent almost three hours in McDonald’s, in your heels, full length gown, face full of makeup, hair done, and with your best friend instead of your date.

When he turns to look at you, his face is serious with no trace of his smile left. ”You deserve better, Y/N,“ he tells you in a quiet yet firm voice, as if it is an undeniable fact.

He pulls you into his chest over the center console and comfortingly rubs your shoulder as your tears and mascara stain his dress shirt.

He drives you to your house and follows you inside, sending a quick text to his mother letting her know that he will be spending the night with you. Your mother welcomes him from her place on the couch, but her face expresses her confusion at you storming up the stairs without a word to her.

"Prom kind of sucked,” he tells her and she nods understandingly.

“We can talk in the morning,” she tells him and he moves to the stairs, the routine of your sleepovers familiar to him. Your mother calls out a goodnight to him and he returns it.

When Taehyung is in his pajamas that he conveniently leaves at your house and you are bare faced and in warm clothes, laying on his chest, he can feel your tears wetting his cotton t-shirt. He smooths his hand over your hair again and again until you fall asleep, wishing he could do more to ease your pain.

Taehyung doesn’t fully understand love, not yet. At eighteen, he understands infatuation, especially what he felt towards his prom date, or the idea of his prom date. But he knows love like a sixth sense, like intuition. He knows love is his mother’s smile when he showed her pictures of the two of you throwing up peace signs from what you had dubbed the, “Ultimate Best Friend Prom Outfit Photoshoot Extravaganza.” He knows love is your mother’s eyes twinkling when she saw you in your prom dress when he picked you up for the photoshoot, the look on her face ringing nostalgia from her own days and pride at your beauty. He knows love is the anger he feels towards a boy he doesn’t know because of what this boy did to you, his best friend. He knows he loves his best friend and his best friend loves him and that this is the only love he needs.

4. bagels

The only thing between you and Taehyung is the stupid rule at your university that said boys and girls couldn’t share dorm rooms and a single wall that made you neighbors instead of roommates. That and finals week looming in the near future that has you shut in your room, smelling of coffee, and away from your best friend.

The knock on your door leads you to look up from the floor where you sat surrounded by your laptop, an empty mug stained with coffee, textbooks, loose papers, and various writing utensils, up to your alarm clock that told you in bright red numbers that it was far past your bedtime. "Yeah?“ you answer weakly to whoever was at your door. You suspect it’s your roommate ready to scold you for staying up, but when the door opens you see a face that makes you let out a soft sigh.

"I missed my best friend,” he says with a frown as his way of hello. You can see he looks worried when he glances at the mess around you. "It’s 3 am and you’ve had too much coffee.“ You’re about to refute this statement when he interrupts your scoff, "Your roommate counted the number of times you left your room for a refill. She’s pretty sure your blood is half caffeine right now and you’re like one cup away from an overdose.”

He sits beside you and you admit defeat by letting yourself fall into his chest and allowing your eyes to close for just a moment. "Your breath smells like coffee,“ he tells you and you slap his chest at the comment but smile nonetheless.

"I know. I’m just… I’m so tired, Taehyung,” you tell him. And he knows you don’t mean that you’re just tired in this moment. He knows that you mean that everything feels so heavy and you’re tired.

“C'mon,” he says and stands up, the warmth he held around you disappearing. You look up at him quizzically and you note that his plaid pajama pants look really comfortable. "I know you haven’t eaten yet. Let’s go. I’m buying you bagels.“ You sigh, but oblige, taking hold of the hand he held out to you and hoisting yourself up. Your hand in his, the two of you match in your attire of sleepwear and flip flops.

The 24 hour cafe on campus masks your coffee odor with its own scent, but not before Taehyung says, "It smells like you here,” with a cheeky grin that has you rolling your eyes, but laughing at his poor jab. As promised he buys, four bagels to be exact, “Two each of course,” he tells you, knowing that his own large appetite was a mirror of your own since the early days of your friendship.

You eat your bagels largely in silence, too preoccupied with the way your stomach feels empty and your shock at not noticing it before. You don’t see the way Taehyung is looking at you, scanning every inch of your face, half with fondness and half in confusion. You don’t seem to pick up on the inner turmoil he is suddenly experiencing as you are too engrossed in your bagel.

Taehyung still isn’t entirely sure he understands what love is. He knows it’s how whenever his mother calls him, asking about his health and his grades, she always asks about you as well. He know’s it’s the way your mother’s eyes were filled with tears when she said goodbye to you on parent’s day despite your reassurances that you were only a two hour drive away and the fact that this was her third time doing this since it was your junior year. He knows it’s the worry he feels when he sees the bags under your eyes and the tremor in your voice when you say you are tired. He knows it’s when you were seven and he held your hand because you got hurt and you were scared of disinfectant. He knows it’s his heart swelling when you score a basket in your middle school gym, your jersey clearly uncomfortable and a tad too small, but a smile on your face nonetheless. He knows it’s how he wants to protect you when you cry into his chest in a beautiful green gown, sitting in his dad’s car in the parking lot of a McDonald’s.

But what he isn’t sure of is the way his heart flutters when your cheeks are puffed out, stuffed with the bagels he bought you, and looking content for the first time in weeks. But Taehyung doesn’t have time to understand why this love suddenly feels different from all the times before. He doesn’t have time to think about why his insides feel like a mess when you are just sitting across from him in your pajamas, cramming your mouth with bagels like there is no tomorrow. Because finals are next week and understanding love takes time, and if he couldn’t figure it out in the last twenty years, then he’s not going to figure it out within a week. And he was okay with that because he decided a long time ago that how he loved you and how you loved him was all he needed.

5. i love you

As you turned in your paper at the front of the lecture hall to your professor who was playing Tetris on his phone, you had five thoughts in your mind.

First, your hand was seriously cramping. Second, you weren’t really enjoying the way you smelled in your sweats at the moment. Third, you really needed a hug. Fourth, you hadn’t seen Taehyung in over a week. And fifth, you could really go for a nap.

You stepped out of the hall and the white winter sunlight combined with the sensitivity of your eyes from your lack of sleep was enough to blind you momentarily. In the brief moment that your eyes took to adjust to being outside, you felt a pair of arms wrap around. If they hadn’t been accompanied with the familiar smell of your best friend, you would have been yelling and jabbing at the body that had engulfed yours. Instead you stand with your head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, absorbing his warmth and comfort.

“You’re done. You made it,” he tells you. You almost let out a laugh in relief, feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

Instead you pull away and tell him, “Taehyung, I smell really weird right now.”

“I know,” he says, he lips turning up in a familiar smile. But despite his response, he pulls you under his arm for the walk to your dorm building.

You roll your eyes at him and he can’t help but feel his heart flutter at how familiar the gesture is. "How long did you wait for me?“ you ask.

"I don’t know, like an hour?” he half asks. You can feel his arm around you move as he shrugs. "I finished my last final next door and I remembered you had this class so I just stuck around.“

"An hour? You’re crazy!” you tell him. When you look up at his face to see his reaction, he’s just looking ahead, smiling. "It’s so cold outside! You could’ve have gotten sick.“ You tell him. At this he pulls you closer, but says nothing more. You resign, knowing Taehyung won’t change and definitely will not apologize. Not that you’re complaining wholeheartedly. Leaving that room, a hug from Taehyung was just what you needed.

Taehyung waits for you to finish your shower from where he lays sprawled on your bed playing sudoku on his phone. You return to your room, wet hair framing your face and looking refreshed yet sleepy. You dove into Taehyung’s waiting arms and turned to face the screen he held above his face.

"Hair!” he tells you, his voice muffled.

“Deal with it,” you tell him, tone completely serious, but you move your damp hair away from where it lay covering much of Taehyung’s face. You move around to get more confortable and end with your head on Taehyung’s arm which wrapped around your shoulders, his hand fiddling with your own. You knew his limb would go numb sooner or later and he would complain, but for now you could enjoy it. His other hand held his phone in the air, still moving numbered tiles onto the nine by nine board it displayed. Your free hand moved to stop him from making a wrong move.

“No you already have a two in this row, dummy,” you tell him, moving the appropriate tile yourself. "There,“ you say, having corrected his error.

You can feel Taehyung’s whole body stiffen at that word, his fingers no longer playing with yours, but now locked with them instead.

You still your movements too, unsure of what is happening.

"Y/N…” he begins. He can’t seem to find the right words and resigns himself to saying exactly what is flashing in his brain as you are laying in his arms. "I didn’t really understand love. But I always knew one thing for sure.“ He stops.

Your heart stops too, or it’s beating too fast for you to process. You’re not sure because all you can feel is his body beneath yours, his arm around you, and his fingers tangled with your own.

You look up at him, half expecting to see his eyes closed. Instead they’re looking into your own, more familiar to you than everything else you know. Taehyung isn’t sure if the goosebumps sent racing down his arms are because of the movement of your damp and cold hair with the turn of your head or because of your eyes locked with his.

He looks at you, your face a little red from the hot shower you took, the bags under your eyes dark and matching his own, and your eyes.

In your eyes he sees the fear of alcohol swabs and the pain of scraped knees, he sees the joy of winning a basketball game and the wholehearted love you show anything you do, he sees the pain of a first heartbreak and the loss of innocence, he sees the exhaustion of a college student and the endurance it takes to hold the weight of the world, the weight of his world. In your eyes, Taehyung sees your mother and his mother watching the two of you play as children and grow as adults. In your eyes, he sees himself and the two of you. In your eyes, Taehyung sees nothing but you.

Taehyung can feel you holding your breath just as he is, but he finally releases it. After twenty years, he finally understands.

"I love you, Y/N.”

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