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#fun fact i actually wrote this months ago and just found it in my drafts and realized i never published it
numbuh-7-knd · 6 months
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Random Naruto AU musings/fanfic ideas incoming:
OK so, I was listening to Naruto theme songs in my room via speaker to drown out the sounds of my mother/housemate having a private appointment downstairs via zoom. (As you do)
And I started to think of how Asuma's death kind of represented a turning point where the konaha 12 are not kids anymore, things are getting serious, main ensemble members are drying, ect.
And I thought, the other thing like that in the original series was the death of the third homage. Exept even that didn't hit as hard because he was old and stuff. Then I realized one big opportunity lost with his death: the person was likely to maybe someday tell Naruto the truth of his parents, especially since he's the one who made it classified in the first place.
Here's where the AU comes in: I was trying to think of scenarios in which the third would have allowed Naruto to know about his parents during the time before the thirds death, and had a thought: there's a bunch of fics out there of Wave having some connection to hidden Whirlpool village, Uzushio, either neighbors or even that they were protected by/allied with Uzushio before the village destruction.
So what if, during the wave arc, Tazuna and the other villagers reacted when they heard Naruto's last name, being overjoyed to hear that at least one Uzumaki survived. Being hush hush about it because they don't want Gato to know because having an Uzumaki present threatens his standing.
Eventually they get Naruto alone with some of the older villagers who express their relief and exitment that there are still surviving Uzumaki after the destruction of Uzushio.
Naruto is so confused, poor kid. These old people are almost acting like he's some long lost relative or something, something about his last name, the destruction of some place called Uzushio? And what's this about asking about his family? Are all these old people senile and mistaking him for someone else?
The villagers confirm his last name is Uzumaki, and that they are talking about his clans home village of Uzushio, which was destroyed during the last war. What do you mean you've never heard of it? Is your ancestral homeland surely your parents would have mentioned it.
And then they learn that he's an orphan left all alone in the world, nothing of his family save his name and the symbol on his back. He tries so suggest that maybe he's not related to those Uzumaki, only to be rebuffed by a team of geriatrics, each pointing out some innocuous feature they swear is an Uzumaki trait, from his speech pattern and large amount of Chakra, to his ears and his chin.
By the end a group of Wave villagers old enough to remember Uzushio in its prime have mentally adopted Naruto and started telling him stories of Uzushio and the Uzumaki Clan, even trying to determine who he might be related to.
Eventually an old woman remembers a friend of hers, who's daughter was sent away to Konoha years before the attack, to be a Konoha ninja. they figure that must have been his mother, and naruto puts together that he was born around the same time as the nine tails attack of the village and they come to the conclusion that his mother probably died in the attack, weakened from childbirth, maybe even dying to protect her baby, and that he must not have had a dad in the picture for him not to be claimed afterwards.
Maybe they even introduce him to a village elder who's actually an Uzumaki and married into Wave decades ago, even long before the attack, and as she took her husband's name and wasn't a ninja, no one caught on. Maybe it Turns out to be his great aunt or something.
I'm imaging the bridge being named something representing the return of the Uzumaki clan.
Also, when the missions over and is time to return to Konoha, the entire village of Wave tries to fight for custody, especially his Great Aunt, who insists on accompanying them back to Konoha to interrogate the Hokage as to her grand nephew's treatment.
Maybe his newly found great aunt or distant cousin decides to move to Konoha, maybe with a bunch of her kids and grandkids giving Naruto a bunch of cousins. Or maybe he just gains a single elderly Uzumaki refugee from Wave.
I feel like Sasuke would be pretty mad/offended on narutos behalf over having the knowledge of his family hidden from him, since at least Sasuke has his memories and his clans belongings.
It'd be pretty funny if however many Uzumakis end up in the village, they all more or less adopt Sasuke as well as Naruto.
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ashtraythief · 6 months
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Hey! So ive been a long time reader of ur underneath verse (since like.. 2018? Maybe even 2017?) and i just wanted to drop by and tell u how much im enjoying rereading ur writing! Like in general i think this is one of my fav fics series just bc its so extensive and well done and thought out and fleshed out so well it works so well? Like seeing all the different angles and the way u choose to frame things is really fun for me and kinda inspires my own writing in some aspects.
Ive never read the whole thing all in one go before so ive decided to do that right now and im just about done with the pied pipers song - more specifically willys chapter. And i kinda needed to let u know that ur series really stands out to me just bc of how many glimpses into other characters and all these different povs of the same thing like on it stands out on a technical level but then ur actual writing of these things is so good and compelling and like as an outsider pov bitch it hits the spot for me so well? Like ur writing is never stale and its always interesting.
I specifically wanted to take this time to mention that i really love willy and winstons characters and how u went about it. Like im ngl the way u wrote them kinda makes me want to cry tears of happiness for them bc they have found ppl who appreciate them and they have connections with other ppl but then the bittersweet tang of jensen and willy is kinda fucking me up rn /pos djjdjdjd like in general u really do the bittersweet jensen is stuck undercover angle really well and it HURTS so good
But yes i dont really have a good concise message or comment to leave beyond the fact that i keep stopping every few sentences to get up and jump bc im so excited about what im reading i need to get rid of that excess energy lol so sorry if this is all over the place and a really messy message! I just really wanted to let u know how much im enjoying reading it all rn. Thank you so much for sharing ur writing with us and for continuing to write for this series its so fun!
omg nonnie, I'm kinda speechless here (this is the second wonderful message in two days so I'm kinda overwhelmed. is it send wonderful messages week somewhere??)
I just am so grateful and this message made me so happy. never apologize for maybe not having a five point outline lol, this is amazing.
The underneath verse has always been my fandom baby, so praise for it is already amazing, but the pied piper fic and Winston and Willy epsecially, it just makes my heart so full. Ten years ago, they definitely started out as stock characters of mob drivers, because I didn't think this fic would get so big, but then it did, and Willy especially became a real character. a) because I knew he'd fall in love with Jensen too, as anyone does really and b) because I looooove the bittersweet undercover Jensen shtick where I write from other character's POV and the reader knows how wrong they're getting it but they don't *mu har har* (yeah I'm a little mean sometime. sorry?)
but in all seriousness, the Willy chapter, I'ev been working on that for months. And I kept adding things and rewriting things and trying to get it perfect even though I know that most people who read the story mostly care about Jared and Jensen (which is totally fair and understandable), but I care about him and there are a few people out there who do too (and I love you for it, so much), but with Willy, I just wante to do this /right/. I've come to love him so much, and he's come to be so important to Jensen, it felt like he and Winston really deserve their own story told even though that's kind of ridiculous because they're not real, but they're a little real to me now. All this to say, nonnie, this comment and your appreciation of Willy means so fucking much to me. And my poor alpha reader who read like four drafts of this (seriously, M. is a saint) and my beta readers who then had to beta four iterations of this. To know that this effort is appreciated this much honestly make me cry a little (I am not having the greatest time right now, so I cry easily but the point still stands. Thank you.)
This message was actually such an energy boost I'm currently trying to fix the next timestamp, lol so I'll have something to post next month. You're a true treasure, nonnie <3
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joannerenaud · 11 months
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Enchant the Heavens review
I've been revisiting a lot of my favorite old historicals since my beloved kitty Peggy died about a month ago, and one of them is Enchant the Heavens by Kathleen Morgan.
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When I was a college student I loved romance novels, particularly historical romance, even though most of my friends at the time thought it was ridiculous and made fun of me for reading them. It made me even more stubborn, and I clung to the genre like a barnacle onto the hull of a ship. However, there was one book at the time that was too cheesy even for me, and that was Enchant the Heavens.
I found the cover embarrassing. Look, my teenage self thought, the hero’s hands look like he’s about to crack the heroine’s skull! And the hero, Marcus, was so earnest. The book was so earnest. The culture at the time was saturated with snark and irony, and sadly, I was not immune. I set the book down.
Years later, in 2011, I revisited Enchant the Heavens, and I found myself… well, enchanted. I was swept away by the epic nature of the story and the endearing characterizations. And I reread it just a week ago. I admit, I was afraid the suck fairy might’ve visited it over the intervening years. But I found myself devouring it happily just as I did all those years ago. And it’s good.
Enchant the Heavens was the first novel Kathleen Morgan ever wrote, and it was a labor of love. It’s a big, passionate, visceral, breathtakingly earnest romance.The story involves a British chieftain’s daughter, Rhianna, and the Roman governor’s nephew, Marcus, during Boudicca’s revolt, and their love is an anguished, star-crossed love that takes a great deal of blood and tears and hard work to resolve. Unlike most romances set during this period, the Celts aren’t romanticized into nature-loving New Agers, and the Romans aren’t evil. And neither the heroine or hero give up their cultures or identities in the end; in fact they work on uniting their communities in the aftermath of war. It’s mature and refreshing.
The language does have a lot of archaicisms that kind of annoying. ‘Twould! ’Twas! Naught! Okay… You just have to run with it. But if you’re willing to dive in, there is a lot to love about it. Rhianna is not afraid of revenge, or using her sword, which is really delightful (to avoid spoilers, I won’t tell you who she kills). Marcus is a reasonable guy too, but there’s just the right amount of deeply felt angst that is perfect for a story about forbidden love. Sometimes I feel that Marcus and Rhianna verge on being idealized archetypes then actual people, but it kind of fits with how epic and operatic the story is. (It really captures the vibe of ancient Irish stories like Deirdre, which was the author’s intention.) The author walks the line of having them be larger-than-life figures, but they still grow and change, from a thoughtless girl and a career-driven aristocrat to a responsible, compassionate leader and a humbled man ready to sacrifice his dreams to help his lover and her people.
The research put into this book isn’t perfect— towards the end of the book, there’s an hummingbird, native to the Americas, in Rome — but it’s thorough and thoughtful, and I liked the depiction of the historical figures. For example, the depiction of Nero, who has a brief and memorable cameo, is almost miraculous in how… sensible it is (and ahead of its time given this was written long before the current reassessment of Nero and the 2020 show at the British Museum). There’s no orgies or lions or gladiators or martyred Christians or any other cliches that I’ve seen over and over again in the few historical romances set in this period. It’s astonishing.
Anyway, this book is long. It’s also epic and sweeping in every possible way, and I have a feeling a good chunk was left on the cutting room floor. I would kill to have the original, unedited draft. Rhianna’s relationships with her friends Eilm and Cordaella are given short shrift. Also I feel the destruction of Camulodunum, and Rhianna’s role in it, was also cut a lot. I would have liked to see more of that, and Rhianna coming to terms with how her actions affected innocent civilians.
But the pacing, given how long it is, is surprisingly tight. I thought the consistent themes of freedom, symbolized by the goshawk, was really beautifully done; not heavy-handed, but subtle; and the story really embraces the pagan religions of the time in a way that’s delightful. There’s so much I can’t get into, or this review would be twice as long. There’s battles, druids, psychic visions, continent-spanning political intrigue, murder, and possibly supernatural white boars sent by the gods.
And the ending is really satisfying. I wish it were 20 to 30k longer, but it’s great as it is. It’s an absolute banger of a story. It’s not perfect but I’d give it a 4.5 out of 5 stars.
Of course, what really sucks about it all is that this was going to be the beginning of a series, and the hero’s best friend Quintus was going to get a sequel.
There was, in fact, one sequel (Enchant the Dream) featuring the heroine’s brother Cerdic. But then the author converted to Christianity sometime in the late 90s, and her entire pre-conversion historical and fantasy backlist are completely unavailable. (Of course, her post conversion backlist is available.)
It pisses me off so much, because Enchant the Heavens is so good! And I wanted to see Quintus’s story! But that’s never going to happen. And there’s never going to be a legal digital copy of this book either, because the author has seemingly disavowed it.
But we’ll always have Enchant the Heavens, and even if Morgan wants to forget her pagan past, I am grateful she wrote this book. I highly recommend it.
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robthewischmop · 4 months
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Just normel shit I do
I have been sitting here for like 40 minutes trying to post something but when i start to actually write it just fells wrong and maybe I just need to post something to stop felling the dread of not having really posted any thing since the literal day that i made this account and just post some shit. But when ever i want to post some thing It just gets longer and longer until Its just a bunch of words that made sens a minute ago but now they just fell wrong [The fact that I go back when I am done and add my thoughts In the []things probably dosnt help with that] and I have no Idea what to do about this but to just make a post[That would have been a good idea six months ago because at that point I was just not using tumbler because If I actively used tumblet that I had to poste something and thats scary ] . Because it literally does not matter if or when or even what i post because no one I know even knows what tumbler is and even on tumbler almost no one will (probebly) see this and so anything that i do with this account really dos not mater. I think i just needed to hear/think/type that because I feel much better now. It is now 8.51 pm on the 25.05.2024(DD.MM.YYYY) I have been writing this since 7:45 pm or something (about 7pm if we count the 40 minutes) You dont need to read further anything under this isnt really important
First of all it fells so good to just type the last paragraph with the time and date again I will now try to compress every idea for a post that I had In those 40 minutes i mention into one or less sentences. Fist post idea I am have been executive dysfunctioning this account and originally wanted to make a post similar to this or my first post on the first of each month. [Just because you dont put a . or , in there dosnt mean its just one sentenc there are tow of them in there at least]
Second post idea My pc isnt good enough to run windows 11 and its sad about it
the 3ed post idea(how the fuck do you spell third (why do I know how to spell now and not like 10 seconds ago)) I have been here for a year now and I still have now Idea how tumbler works
fourth post idea how do I get other stuff than splatoon on my tumbler there is just to much of it[actually I lied to you this was a post idea that I had like 3 months ago its better now i fixed it]
Look what i found In my drafts before finishing up this post its such a nice small message that I wrote 10 months ago and if I actually remembered to post this the day after I wrote it maybe then I would have actually done what this draft says:
"Hello again people on the internet
I have bin here fore a month now and I think I really like it here . I still have no idea what i supposed to do so im just going to do something.
i will probably do something on the first of every month just because that`s when i made my first post "
I will hear by try to do that this year (this is not part of the draft anymore i will actually try to do this)
Its about 9:30 pm still the 25 of May now . it has just been fun to write all this stuff again
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asachuu · 3 months
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Hm…even without many details, this is quite personal, but it’s not like that really matters at this point, so I suppose I could chuck it to the wolves here. Non-fandom, and I swear I’ll draw something this decade, but only after rambling at 3AM.
I was just scrolling through my socials and I stumbled upon a post, under which someone in the comments described a seemingly very rare symptom/experience(?) of a disorder I most likely have almost perfectly, and to my relief (…as relieved as I can be when said symptom is…not fun whatsoever), I saw a few other people sharing their own experiences that all seemed as though they were in the exact same boat as me, and while I’ve already seen other posts I could relate to in the past— I even wrote an entire draft here about a YouTube video with a comments section that almost felt like some kind of veteran’s lobby a month or two ago, but one I’m so glad to have found because I really fucking needed to see it— this specific one I’ve come across was so, so unbelievably accurate, I thought I’d just tear up on the spot, because unless you’ve truly been there, you likely have no idea how it feels to get absolutely nothing from anyone for so long and believing you’re the one in the wrong if you can’t find anything about your issue anywhere, yet others do actually share your experience, even if in the far few.
Unfortunately, the dreadful reality hit me yet again, just like last time, after I spent more than two minutes scrolling through responses— none of these people had any solutions or help. There were only complaints and the same questions I would have, but it’s almost as if for half of them, nothing could be done, and the other half had gotten “help”— as much as the word applies here— due to having far worse outward conditions than myself which were the qualifier for them. Honestly, while last time, this sense of hopelessness did leave me with a harrowing feeling already, the fact of the matter is that since these comments were so much more accurate to what I’ve gone through, and they also have to do with…extremely serious matters that should require intervention, if only it was possible, it felt like direct confirmation that, without sugarcoating it, not only am I certifiably fucked, there’s also a whole group of people just like me who are fucked as well, but there’s simply not enough of us to be taken seriously or even have any real acknowledgment in the medical world, from what I’ve been attempting to search for ages now, and if we don’t have any other disorders, illnesses and whatnot to somehow “prove ourselves”, our form of help will not be the option to safely receive shelter and care from the state, it’ll be whatever we manage to scrape up ourselves if we even make it to that point (…as this issue, for practically everyone in that comment thread including myself, can become a direct threat to our lives), and if it’s going to be safe, that’s just between God and whoever we turn to.
It’s just…dreadful. I don’t know if it’ll be relatable to any stranger out there— not necessarily the specifics, just this…sinking, hopeless feeling of stumbling on your own community who’s just as lost as you, but it’s something I can’t even describe properly.
One extra thing I was going to formerly hide in the tags is that at least getting to see these people clearly existing in the same world as I do had made me want to try actively searching for them, but the thing is, in my case, we really are few, and everything that comes up for me when I attempt going online and taking matters into my own hands is exactly the opposite of what I’m searching for. It’s unfortunately something that gets conflicted with a very common human experience that there’s tons of research and help for, but none of it is anyhow helpful for my case or the cases of the few people out there whom I can relate to, and it’s so, so difficult to just…not even find a bigger community, which is a task beyond my mortal capabilities, but just be understood on a basic level of language in the first place outside of internet search engines, because if there is absolutely no research or readily available evidence of your condition you can show someone to explain things to them, they will never have heard of anything even remotely close to it and will either not believe you, or completely misinterpret you, regardless of what you say.
It’s just exhausting. To only find evidence of a tiny community once every couple of months in a random comments section. To have nothing written down in any record and have even professionals in the field confused, telling you they can’t do anything about it or staring at you as if you were insane. And to top it all off, to find literally no semblance of help other than “no one feels/thinks like that, get over it”, with the extremely rare discussion you sometimes find being mainly just people sadly high-fiving each other from the pits of Hell.
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fumbles-mcstupid · 2 years
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I found this in my drafts, written YEARS ago, that I’d been intending to post alongside that billyalan post that I ALSO had in drafts but never got around to and I’m so glad I wrote this down because I’d forgotten a lot of it and it’s nice to refresh my memory so I’m posting it now
not to get uh,, all gushy but, anyway-- that post I just reblogged to my sideblog? iconic and formative? still doesn’t quite cover it. It’s like looking back at an old familiar signpost that pointed me in a direction I’m glad I went. I remember first listening to the song Blue Driver (at that point it was pretty much less than two months after getting into billyalan, two MONTHS) and that night staying up and hitting replay a good dozen times or more, reveling in ship feels, and then clicking a recommendation on the youtube sidebar from the same artist and same album, the song Roll On Babe. It was slower, but also really good, and they were thereafter linked irrevocably in my mind, one following the next, and not through lyrics but by pure aesthetic association. They were, and still are, essential billyalan for me, highlighting a mood about the ship that has carried on, that I’ve carried with me, for years since. Only a short time after hearing Blue Driver, I had a 2am impulse to learn it on guitar, found the simple chords online, and quietly played it, and once I was eventually better at it? it was the actual first song I could play while singing at the same time, fundamental to making me into a decent guitar player, really just a baby step in the long run because at its heart it’s a pretty simple song, mostly E to A to E to A and to a form of B and so on. And that’s partly why the two songs go so well together, because they consist of the same two base chords, E and A, and Roll On Babe in its basic form is just a repetitive strum that has the beat of a train chugging along, reminding me of empty spaces and trains and the miles they cross, of lonely places like the ones Alan and Billy spend their summers in, how they’d listen to songs like this one and lean into each other....
Anyway, those two were covers by Vetiver and I read up and found their earlier forms, the original of Blue Driver by Michael Hurley (who lent his help to Vetiver in their cover, fun fact!), and the principal cover of Roll On Babe by Ronnie Lane & Slim Chance (banjo! harmonica!), where Vetiver took their cue from. All four tracks? super enjoyable for me in their own different ways.
The point is, I GUESS, is that any damn time I’m bored and I pick up my guitar, on a random day whether I’ve been thinking about billyalan or not, lol, those two songs are some of the easiest things to strum out, maybe hum, maybe sing, and I’m instantly taken somewhere else, somewhere on a sunny highway, somewhere in a truck, imagining Billy and Alan singing along, arms hanging out the window, carefree and very much in love
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joheunsaram · 4 years
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To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)
Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats
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THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.
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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.
word count- 5k
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- pg13 for now
genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers
warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy
a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.
Feedback much appreciated! 💕
taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut
-
Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.
Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.
In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.
As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.
When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.
He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.
He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.
Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.
“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.
“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.
“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.
“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.
“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”
“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!
“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.
Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.
Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.
As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.
Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?
Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?
Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!
Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?
Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…
Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.
Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.
Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?
Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.
The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?
The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.
After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.
“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.
“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”
“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.
“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.
“I’m good. Are you still at work?”
“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?
“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.
“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.
“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.
“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.
“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.
“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.
“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.
“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”
“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”
He had never been this excited to pretend to work.
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He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.
You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”
That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.
“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.
“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.
“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.
“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”
“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”
“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.
“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.
“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”
“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.
“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.
After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.
“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.
“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.
“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.
“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.
He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.
“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.
“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.
“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.
“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.
“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”
He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.
“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.
“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.
“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.
“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.
“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.
“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.
“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.
“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”
“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.
“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.
“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.
He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.
He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”
“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.
“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.
“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.
“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.
“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.
“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.
“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.
In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.
That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.
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dumb-dotcom · 4 years
Text
night sky | rewrite
pairing: Sam Holland x reader Harry Holland x reader
Summary: tonight is the night where you tell your friend how you've felt all this time.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: I wrote the first draft of this years ago, the original version is shorter and has less emphasis on Harry's feeling for the reader, but I like this version much better. Still if you guys want I can post the original.
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“When do you think you’ll tell him” Harrison and you sat on the front yard of Tom’s parents, the chill night of September night was young and the noise from the small gathering hosted by his parents seemed to agree, the whole family and closest friends were in town so it was the perfect occasion to a get together
“I don’t know mate... maybe today? I’m not sure“ A heavy breath left your lips as your shoulders dropped, maybe telling him wasn’t the brightest thing to do, but you trusted him, he had your back almost as a big brother would.
It was no surprise after practically being raised together thanks to your moms being friends and so you grew being really close to each other. But people grow and change, the years flew by and Harrison started hanging out with Tom which led to you finding out that the twins you’re your classmates. School could seem hard but it became so much easier with friends there for you and as Harrison became best mates with Tom so did you with Sam and Harry, distancing myself from Harrison.
“Are you telling Tom? I think he should know” you felt him staring which didn’t calm your nerves about the uncertainty of what was to come; your fingers ran my through your hair to keep it away from your face.
“No... I don’t- I don’t know Harrison!!” you laid on the grass closing your eyes, trying to avoid thinking about him, but no matter how hard the thought of him just came back, your nose was cold and so were your hands but you can bet he would still hold them without caring one bit.
The first time that you notice your feelings towards him was one day after school, no matter how much time it had been you still remember it clearly, Every day you would take a ride from them back to your home, even if your house was pass his, they still took the time so you didn’t have to go all the way there by yourself, but today Harry wanted to take some pictures before your daily routine continued so you and Sam decided to buy ice-cream while waiting for him, after a while of walking from the ice-cream place and eating a small rock made you trip, you’ve never felt more embarrassed as you wiped out the ice-cream from your face while Sam laughed, you were fuming at the universe for making you seem like a clown in front of your best friend so you jokingly pushed him
“Auch Y/N!” he said still laughing faking being actually hurt “Here, we can share mine” he handed you his ice-cream while holding your gaze, he cleaned a bit of ice-cream from your cheek “You missed a spot”
You weren’t sure if it was his charming smile or the way he said your name, but you knew you were head over heels for him
“Y/N!” Harry yelled from the front door, you turned to see him “Sam is looking for you, I think he’s in the music room”
Your heart skipped a beat to the mention of his name and the nerves rushed back, you sat again and felt Harrison’s hand on my back as he did when trying ease the bad thoughts
“Now or never” he said and he helped you get on your feet.
Truth is, even though you’ve known Harrison for all your life, you grew fond of the twins and the friendship became stronger a lot quicker, being almost bound to the hip. You all hung out whenever you could to the point of you staying over multiple times a week in their place when summer break came around, or travelling together on New Year.
You went up to Harry to say thank you and went in looking for Sam, the chattering from the families getting to catch up got louder as you entered the living room followed by Him and Harrison who went searching for Tom. You walked to the music room, you felt the cold sweat rushing through your back and tried to convince yourself that everything was going to be alright, hell you didn’t even know if you would actually tell him! But you couldn’t avoid thinking on all the stuff that could go wrong. You took a deep breath before walking into the empty room, to your surprise he wasn’t there, but the calm was short.
He entered the room with a glass of what seemed as red wine and smiled when he saw you there, you couldn’t help yourself but to smile as a fool and he knew it, he knew you thought he had a pretty smile but he didn’t know to what extent that was
“Y/N! truth or dare” you were there, at a classmates party that the twins invited you to, Harry was the one so insistent that you had to go, day and night trying to convince you that it would be fun, going to the extent of talking with mom so you would attend, they knew you weren’t a big fan of partying but honestly you wouldn’t miss out an opportunity to spend some time with them.
After hours of hanging out you ended up playing truth or Dare with a bunch of teenagers
“Truth” after seeing what they were daring each other that was the least thing you would want to choose, leaving you with the scary truth as your final option.
“What’s your... favourite thing about everyone playing?” that was an odd question coming from the most sober person around, if you recall correctly you knew this girl, she was nice and seemed to be having even less fun that you were.
“Well, you are really good at reading in front of the class” you smiled and proceeded to compliment complete strangers “... that’s a really cool shirt” after saying that to the last person that you didn’t know you stopped for a second, glancing at Sam and Harry, they were the last people that you had to compliment, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were slightly tipsy, you wouldn’t be able to even look at their faces “Harry I love your freckles and your hair is gorgeous.. And Sam, I love your smile”
He instinctually smiled, he made some space besides him for you to sit down on and so you did.
“I found you” he closed the door and left the glass on the nearest table, he hugged you, your heart felt like it was about to melt and you were sure your cheeks were bright red, he left you go “Do you remember when we watched the greatest showman for the first time?”
“How could I forget? Tom wouldn’t shut up about Zendaya and Harry almost choked on popcorn” you laughed just as the thought of Harrison trying to help Harry while the rest of us where laughing our asses off
“And you wouldn’t stop singing certain song for the rest of the month” He chuckled
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that” you shrugged and tried to avoid his gaze, you were nervous because when he saw him again, you knew today was the day “Sam I-“
“So I had to show you something” he rushed to the piano and he left a place for you to sit as he always did, so you followed him.
He started playing and the room was flood with the melody, a sense of nostalgia, longing for the years where he hadn’t to travel as much as he did and you could all hang out together, you saw his fingers run across the piano and you were certain everything was going to be alright. Your head rested on his shoulder and you closed your eyes starting to sing under your breath.
I'm trying to hold my breath
Let it stay this way
can’t let this moment end
You could hear your heart pounding against your chest, Why are you so nervous for? It’s not like your actually going to do it, are you?
You set off a dream with me
Getting louder now
Can you hear it echoing?
If it weren’t for the people from the other room and the sound of him playing he would be able to hear your heart almost bursting through your chest, and for a split second you think of all the good things that would happen if you tell him.
Take my hand
Will you share this with me?
'Cause darling without you
But it didn’t last long as you started to get nervous again, you could feel your hands sweating and really didn’t know where to put them, finally decided to play with the hem of your shirt.
All the shine of a thousand spotlights
all the stars we steal from the night sky
will never be enough
You opened your eyes and took a deep breath.
Never be enough
“I like you”
He missed a key and stopped playing all together.
You looked at him, searching for that sweet smile that would make all the fear and doubt disappear, but what you found instead helped me realize the huge mistake you just made, he was pale as a ghost and his eyes where avoiding meeting yours. Your bottom lip was shaking as you tried to find a way to get out of this situation; maybe say that it was a joke? No, both of you knew each other too well for that and he knows you wouldn’t lie about something like this.
“I- I’m sorry” he said as he stood up, even if you wanted to run from this he seemed much eager to get away and avoid this conversation.
You impulsively reached out for his hand, trying to stop him in his steps. He could feel your shaky hand, you knew it; he looked at it and then looked back at you, the sweet night that you expected seemed to turn bittersweet as the time went on.
“Sam, what are you sorry for” your voice was almost a whisper and it took all of you not to break in front of him.
“I met someone… I was learning that song for her”
And with that your heart broke completely, the tears started to fall down your face and before you knew it you were out of that room searching for your mom, after some minutes of searching you realized that she already left without you and started to look for your second best option, Harrison.
You turned around crashing into someone, after cleaning your face trying to hold back the tears, you gave him a quick apology and tried to move on but his hand on yours kept you from moving and there is when you saw his face.
“Harry, Can you take me with Haz?” that’s what you intended to say but the pressure in your chest was not helping. His arms wrapped around you tightly as you continued sobbing after he took you to the backyard where no one would see the mess that you were at the moment, his left hand played with your hair knowing it would calm you down.
“What happened love?” he gently rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, your eyes met; those eyes that looked so similar to the eyes of the person who broke your heart, they seemed hesitant, maybe you were too focused on the bad things or maybe the tears were blocking your sight, but if you took a moment to look at him you would’ve noticed how your y/e/c eyes captivated him
If he had to pick what he loved about you he wouldn’t know what to choose, he loved your smile, the way you spoke and knew about so many topics, even if he didn’t understand all of them, he loved how much you motivated him and asked him to show you the photos he took whenever him as his family travelled, but one of the things that he loved the most about you were your eyes, those full of happiness and excitement, the way they would almost close whenever you smiled. But he hated to see you like this, sad and scared; the only thing he wanted to do was help you make everything better but didn’t know how.
“I don’t want to talk about it” you bit your lip trying to push back that thing in your head that made the memory of what just happened, his scared eyes, the <<I met some else>>, the way he preferred to run away than look at you come back again and again. “Where’s Haz? I want to leave”
“He left early with Tom” he looked around and looked back at you “But if I can take you home”
After everything that went down tonight, all you wanted was to get to your flat, take a shower and rest; but the coldness of your bed was the only thing waiting for you back there, and going to your parent’s house as you originally planned meant having to explain to your mum why your eyes are all red and puffy, maybe staying was the only thing left to do or maybe..
“Yes please”
In the ride back your place he listened patiently to what went down and every time you seemed about to start crying again he placed his hand on yours rubbing it, letting you know he was there for you; he tried not to think about Elysia and how he knew about her and his brother. Maybe he would’ve warned you having he known your feelings for Sam, even if it meant seeing your heart breaking apart first hand. You tested your mum letting her know the change of plans and reassuring her that everything was okay.
When you arrived at your flat, harry gave you a one last hug before going back to the party.
“Wait” you said hugging him tighter when you felt him trying to pull away “could you please stay?”
He showed you a peaceful smile, one that you knew too well and one that seemed like home. He brushed your hair away from your face and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Of course darling”
You two stepped inside and while you took a shower he made himself comfortable on the couch, when you saw him you couldn’t help but smile for a bit; you felt really tired after crying and he seemed just as tired as you were,
“Harry, come get in bed you twat” you sighed and rubbed your eyes “I don’t want to be alone tonight”
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asleepinawell · 3 years
Note
How has poi changed your life? Genuinely curious, I love this show
I got this ask in May '20 and am only now answering it. :')
part of the problem with answering it is that half of the answer would be to the question of 'how has fandom changed your life' where poi is the fandom I've been the most active in and where fandom made the most difference. and that's a long story
my first draft of this was over 2k words long, and went back much further in time explaining how i had and hadn’t fit into queer spaces and fandom throughout my life. I edited it way back but it’s still long-ish, so you can read it below the break
many years ago, when I got my first full time job in my chosen industry my senior year of college I was so busy that I couldn't function. massive unhealthy amounts of overtime and a toxic work environment. (don't work at tech start-ups, kids!!!) my social life vanished. strikethrough on livejournal happened right then too and fandom, which i’d only been a silent participant in at that point, kind of went quiet for a while and by the time it started regrouping I was so busy that I didn't know about it. several awful years later I quit my job, spent several months in my room in my parents' house trying to recover from massive burn out (see my comment about tech start-ups), and then got a job on the opposite coast and left behind my whole circle of friends some of whom made up my entire connection to the queer community at that time.
making friends after college is very hard when you're an introvert and just generally don't like socializing that much. making queer friends can be even harder since there's fewer places to meet them and there's often an underlying question of dating/sex that hovers around awkwardly when sometimes what you want is just an absolutely no romo/no sex friendship. so while I did make a few queer friends eventually, I didn't have that same sort of community I did before I'd moved and I missed it
(I would be remiss in not saying that the queer friends i made in this time are all amazing and wonderful and some are still my close friends and very important to me. The thing I’m highlighting here was the lack of feeling like I was part of a larger queer community).
fast forward a bit. I get sick. like really really sick. I'm in and out of the ER, I'm missing tons of work, I'm mostly bed-ridden. I think after the last few years people can more easily appreciate how intensely lonely and surreal being stuck at home by yourself non stop can be when you're not used to it. sometime right before that I'd joined tumblr for the sole purpose of looking at cat pictures on my phone during boring meetings. I wasn't really aware that this was where fandom had migrated to (it was in fact possible to use tumblr without intersecting with fandom). but stuck home alone with time to kill I started looking for art and gifs of the tv and games I was consuming and stumbled into fandom tumblr and specifically queer femslash fandom.
I kind of poked around the territory and eventually fell into the carmilla fandom which became the first fandom I actually created content for. a few of my fics had a decent audience and while I was never part of the central core of the fandom I made some good friends there. some of y'all probably followed me back then. I eventually drifted away from carmilla for a lot of reasons I won't get into and stumbled right into poi. this would have been between seasons 4 and 5, late 2015-early 2016.
my health problems get more exciting and I end up in the hospital. I have vague memories of watching poi on my laptop in my hospital bed (vague because I was on a lot of morphine). I actually posted some fic while I was in the hospital (would have been the end of my carmilla run still).
and I get out of the hospital (early 2016) and am somewhat better but it's pretty clear that I'm going to have chronic health issues probably for the rest of my life. my social life, such as it was, was mostly dead, a lot of stuff I used to do for fun was much harder to manage. I'm still spending a ton of time at home (not even counting covid) and I have bad days where I feel terrible and can't do much. but I'll come back to that
I think most of us remember 2016. the year tv show runners fully embraced the bury your gays trope (and sometimes the fridging trope at the same time as a bonus!) and, by autostraddle's tally, 30 queer female characters in tv shows died. and then on top of that we had the actual real world tragedy of the pulse nightclub shootings. it was a massively depressing time all around for queer people
s5 of poi aired that year. I know people have different opinions on s5 of poi, and that's valid. I hated it. and I really intensely hated how it treated root and shaw. there aren't enough words to express how fucking angry I was after s5. or rather, there are 319,678 words.
I wrote a fic many of you may have read called sliding towards chaos that rewrote the entirety of poi from mid-s3 onwards. it got pretty popular lol. I put so much into writing it, too. it was basically a second full time job for me and a great way to take my mind off the fact I was still having health problems and all the crazy shit going on in the world (we had a presidential election in the US in 2016 :)))) it did not go well!)
i'm very proud of writing stc, and even if I think it isn't my strongest writing (which is good! improving over time is good!), it was what really connected me to a lot of other people in the fandom. I felt part of the fandom community in a way I hadn't with carmilla and it was an intensely queer community built around shared interests
one of the problems with finding queer friend groups out in the 'real world' is you're often gathering to meet based on the uniting factor of being queer, and your interests may vary greatly. fandom is amazing because it lets you find queer people who you share all these interests with and who you can bond with over them and collaborate with and that's just so so important. does fandom have a ton of issues and toxicity and bigotry? yes, absolutely. but it also has so much good to offer
through stc and later fics I became close friends with some really really cool people in the fandom (including my favorite writer and my favorite artist). these are people I'm still very close friends with. some of them I've hung out with offline and the ones I haven't are mostly because they live too far away. after years of not having my own queer circle of friends I have found one again and one I can usually participate in even with my health problems and that is such an important thing to me
on a creative front, the fic writing and the gif making I've done have both taught me an enormous amount and been a very positive part of my life. working collaboratively on comics has been one of the coolest things I've done. there is just so much good that came out of me seeing one shoot gif on tumblr dot com years ago and being like hmm looks gay I'm in
and in terms of the actual content of the show, I think a lot of the reason I was drawn to it (other than my lingering crush on fred from angel) was that root and shaw felt so uniquely and wonderfully queer in a way few f/f ships I'd seen had before. shaw being bi and reading as aro to me (I've talked about that here) and root being a chaotic computer nerd just felt so relatable to me and their relationship with each other made sense to me in a way that few others had. and the specific draw that they had for some fans probably has a lot to do with why I found friends in this fandom who I really clicked with
so yeah. I don't know how to sum this up. fandom can be a great way to find your people and engage your creativity and I think that's very sexy
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flowerpowell · 4 years
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The Royal Holiday Romance (Liam x MC)
EPILOGUE
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A/N: Ahhh the last chapter and the last peek into Victoria’s and Liam’s lives! I was supposed to finish this series before Christmas but... better late than never, huh? I hope you’ll enjoy the epilogue!
Rating: G
Tagging: @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @twinkleallnight @lodberg @sfb123 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @iaminlovewithtrr​ @kingliam-rys​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @gkittylove99​ @shanzay44​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ ❣
“Li, you sure you don’t wanna come?”
Liam nodded, assuring his friends once again that he made up his mind and wasn’t going to change it.
Maxwell sighed. “As you wish. You’re gonna regret it though. I even wore my squid suit! The one that made Hana fall for me.”
“Hana never fell for you, Maxwell.” Drake rolled his eyes. “She just said it was a nice suit.”
“Whatever. She invited us to that party after all!”
Liam looked absentmindedly at his friends. Hana and the rest of the crew finished filming a week ago and they celebrated it with a big wrap-up party. She invited him and his friends but Liam didn’t feel like coming. Mostly because he still felt bad for almost firing Victoria from said movie. But also because she wasn’t going to be there. There was no point for him to go.
When Drake and Maxwell left, Liam went into his bedroom and opened his laptop.
It was almost four months since he saw and talked to Victoria. She went home right before Christmas and it was already March. To say he missed her every day, was an understatement.
Not much changed for him; Liam kept himself busy with work and all his duties. He knew Maxwell and Drake were worried about him but he kept telling them he was okay.
He allowed himself moments of weakness only in the night. He would google Victoria’s name and read what she had been up to. After leaving Cordonia, she set up her own blog and started her film critic career online. Maybe because of the scandal but mostly because she was very talented, she soon found a big audience and started being invited to different events, premieres and interviews. Liam was very proud of her and very happy for her. But reading all of that, made him miss her even more. The fact that she didn’t want to come to the wrap-up party, as well as the Cordonian premiere in a few months, was a clear proof she wasn’t thinking about him the way he thought about her.
Liam sighed as he saw an article titled: Victoria Brooks refuses to attend the premiere of ‘Cordonian Christmas’ in the light of the scandal.
Even though he explained everything what happened, he still was guilty of causing the scandal. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t want to come to Cordonia after all that happened. And he wasn’t surprised she didn’t want to keep in touch with him.
It was all his fault.
~~~~
“Greetings from the wrap-up partyyyyy”
Victoria looked at the picture Hana just sent her. She and Maxwell seemed to have a lot of fun. Victoria even spotted Drake sipping on his drink. No sight of Liam, though.
Not like she would expect him to be there. Hana had told her that Liam avoided leaving the palace since… she left Cordonia.
Victoria blamed the scandal and all that negative attention that Liam got afterwards for his antisocial behavior but Hana straightforwardly told her that it was because he tried to get over her.
She wasn’t sure what to think about it. Were his feeling actually genuine? It wasn’t just a game? Was a King really… into her?
“Don’t go there,” Victoria warned herself. What happened, happened. It’d been almost four months since they spoke last. High time to move on.
So why did Victoria feel like there was something missing?
~~~~
Liam was playing with his phone after checking his emails. He looked at his drafts folder and sighed seeing at lest fifty different emails he wrote to Victoria. Wrote but never sent.
He wondered if she thought about him. Even if just for a second.
“If she did, it would be pretty negative thoughts, I’m sure.” He thought to himself and put his phone away. It was pointless. No matter how bad he wanted to forget about Victoria, he couldn’t.
He still felt just as in love with her as he was four months ago.
~~~~
Victoria was playing with her phone after reading comments under her newest blog post. She checked her emails but nothing new came.
What was she waiting for, though? For an email from Liam?
“He closed that chapter. You should, too,” she thought to herself as she put her phone away. It was pointless. No matter how bad she wanted to move on, she couldn’t.
For some reason, the butterflies she felt when thinking about Liam didn’t die even after those four months.
~~~~
“It’s so nice to see you, Liam.” Hana smiled and greeted the King. He nodded and shook her hand.
“Likewise. I’ve heard the wrap-up party was a success.”
“It was… nice. We missed you,” she said and Liam could almost hear that silent and Victoria too but he didn’t say anything. It was his fault she couldn’t even come here.
“Maybe you could talk to him, Hana. He said he won’t come to the premiere!” Maxwell chipped in and Liam rolled his eyes. Hana’s face softened.
“You really should. I mean, I’ll understand if you don’t but it’d be nice to see you there.”
“I’ll think about it,” he promised. When Maxwell and Drake entered the throne room, Liam followed suit but Hana stopped him, gently grabbing his arm.
“Can we talk? Alone?” She added.
“Is something wrong?” His mind immediately wandered to Victoria. Did something happen to her?
“No… No. But… I wanted talk to you about Tori, if I may.” She started and Liam’s heart began to race. He nodded.
“I don’t approve of how you treated her with your lies and dishonesty. And I don’t blame Victoria for being upset with you and wanting to leave. But… I also know you regret it. And I know that you didn’t want to deceive her. Listen, Liam. I’ve known you for many years now and I know you’re a good person. We all make mistakes. And you… already redeemed yours. And I think Tori would agree.”
“I am really sorry for what I have done. Truly. If I could turn back time—” Liam started. Why was Hana bringing it up now?
“I wasn’t trying to make you apologize for something you’ve already apologized for. I’m just trying to ask… why did you give up on Victoria?”
Liam was taken aback. He gave up on her?
“I don’t think I understand… I didn’t give up on her… She left!”
“Yes, but that was four months ago. Even very stubborn people like Tori soften in that time.”
“What… are you getting at?” He was confused and Hana shook her head.
“I’m saying… if you really like her, which I see you do, you should’ve fought for her. She forgave you a long time ago and she misses you just as much.”
“She told you that?”
“She didn’t have to. I hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes every time we talk. Just like I see you still love her in yours.”
Liam stared at Hana. “You… think… I should—”
Hana chuckled. “When Cinderella left Prince Charming in the palace after the ball, he didn’t just accepted his fate and tried to move on. He started looking for her and fought for their future. Because he truly loved her.”
“And Cinderella’s two sisters lost their feet in the process,” he added absentmindedly.
“I see Tori educated you too on original fairytales?”
“Yes.” he smiled. Victoria had a bigger impact on his life than he even thought.
“Then why don’t you just go for her, huh? She doesn’t have any sisters so don’t worry about that part. Call her, message her. Fight for her! I’m sure she’s waiting for it, too…”
~~~~
Liam stared at the ceiling, rewinding the conversation he had with Hana earlier that day. If Victoria really forgave him and was waiting for his sign…
Hana told him he should call or message her but Liam wasn’t sure it was a good idea. When it came to Victoria Brooks, he wanted to make it right.
And he could only hope it wasn’t too late.
~~~~
Victoria hit enter and her newest post appeared at the top of the blog. She quickly turned off her computer and decided to go for a walk. It was her routine. After posting something, she was too scared to wait for people’s reactions so she always went for a walk.
“What you’re up to?”
Victoria marveled at the message Hana sent her. It wasn’t the fact that Hana messaged her because the two women kept in touch, but it was four in the morning in Cordonia and Tori wondered why Hana was up.
“Just went for a walk. Wbu?” She typed and the answer came right away.
“Where?”
Victoria frowned. What was going on with Hana?
“That little forest a few minutes away from my apartment. Why are you asking?”
“Nevermind, enjoy your walk!”
Now Victoria was concerned. She tried to call Hana but her phone was turned off. Or she simply didn’t want to answer her calls.
She was walking in the forest, trying to call Hana from time to time but without success.
“Fine! Be mysterious!” She yelled at her phone after tenth time Hana didn’t pick up.
“Is that what actresses do? Talk to themselves?”
Victoria turned so abruptly that Liam had to catch her. Her eyes widened at the sight of Liam, King Liam, in a little forest in her hometown.
“What—what are you doing?” she asked, still in shock.
“You visited Cordonian forests and I wanted to visit American,” he replied calmly.
“Ha ha. No one ever comes here. And how did you—” she narrowed her eyes. “Hana.”
“Don’t be angry with her. I wanted to make sure I’d meet you. Poor Hana, I had to wake her up in the middle of the night.”
“Why are you here?” She asked, her heart and mind racing. She couldn’t believe he was here. Here in America. Here, for her.
“To see you. To talk to you. To tell you how much I miss you. Victoria, I—I missed you so much. I never felt this way for anyone else. And I am so sorry it took me months before I finally came here to tell you that. I wanted to call you every single day. I’m still…” he paused for a moment. “I’m still very much in love with you.”
“Liam…” she felt her eyes started to water. “I missed you, too. And I’m sorry for what I said to you before I left.”
“No, you were right. I made a mistake. And I promise to never lie to you again. What was between us… was real. And I want that. If you’re still interested.”
Victoria swallowed hard and felt tears running down her cheeks. “I’m still interested.”
Liam smiled and extended his hand. “Hello. My name is Liam and I am the King of a small European country, Cordonia. I love Baklava and I’ve recently started reading Grimm’s fairytales. I still think they’re actually thrillers. In my free time, I like to go for walks. Four months ago, I fell deeply in love with the most amazing woman. And you?”
She laughed. “I’m Victoria and I’m a movie critic. I have my own blog. I used to be an actress but it wasn’t for me. I’ve never had Baklava but it sounds delicious. I consider Grimm’s fairytales better than their Disney’s adaptations. I once traveled to Cordonia and fell in love with their King. Nice to meet you.”
Liam’s face lit up and she threw her hands around his neck. She didn’t know how they would make it work, what it would look like dating a King, what the people would say but she didn’t care.
For the first time in her life, she felt like the main character in her own fairytale.
---------------END----------------
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baodurs · 3 years
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i filled out this super cool button character profile by @extraordinarymage for sabrina! thank you for making this, it was a lot of fun to fill out <3 the bulk of it is under a cut and oh boy is it long !!!
Short, Quick Reference
Name: Sabrina Wiseman
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Love Interest: Kent
Main personality trait: Confidence
Secondary personality trait: Morbidity
Relationship with Nick: Full of love, haunted by unaddressed guilt and frustration. But mostly full of love.
Nickname for Nick: Saint Nick (used sparingly)
Resentful or accepting?: Slightly resentful
Main strategy (interpersonal, insightful, innovative?): Insightful
Ethical or expedient?: Expedient
GENERAL
Name: Sabrina Larkspur Wiseman
Nickname(s): Sab, used by anyone; Sabby, only Nick and Sally; and, of course, Button for Nick.
Birthday: I think I made her an October Libra for the purpose of a template I did months ago, but I’m not sure! No concrete birthday yet, I’m always very slow to nail down details like this.
Age: 20
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Hair color + style: Blonde. A little past shoulder length, sometimes wavy. Usually a middle part. For Aeon, tied back in a bun.
Eye color: Blue, entirely because of the section of Frank O’Hara’s “Meditations in an Emergency” that goes, “My eyes are vague blue, like the sky...”
Height: 5′5
Piercings: Multiple in each ear, but a couple have started to close.
Tattoos: None yet! Sab likes the idea of a tattoo but is worried about finding the perfect design, whether she’d end up hating it, that the pain might be greater than she expects and she’ll look like a baby in front of her tattoo artist. I’d like to think she eventually consults Sally and/or Glitch to come up with an idea that she falls in love with, but I haven’t come up with what that would be!
Clothing style: Mostly solid colors, not a lot of patterns. Nothing super bright, but a fairly varied mix of pastels, neutrals, dark colors, black. Partial to denim skirts and sweater tops. Ankle boots. Likes a good turtleneck. She’s bolder when it comes to formal wear, and especially loves suits. Big fan of silk and satin.
Since she has a pretty accurate face claim, I’ll link some gifsets I’ve rb’d for appearance ref if you are so inclined.
STATS
I’m always adjusting minor things and swapping scenes around, but these are from my most recent Sab run! Most scores hover somewhere around these values.
Personality:
Confidence: 53%
Humor: 5%
Morbidity: 22%
Resentful: 57% | Accepting: 43%
Strategy:
Interpersonal: 12%
Insightful: 50%
Innovative: 10%
Ethical: 43% | Expedient: 57%
KEY DECISIONS:
What is Nick’s nickname and why?: Saint Nick, used very rarely. It’s a joking reference to the time she thought Santa was an evil Ment out to ruin Christmas, and a point about Nick overdoing it with the cheer. “Saint Nick” is usually code for “I know you mean well, but please mind your own business.” Otherwise, she just calls him Nick.
What is their favorite type of cookie (and its name and why?): Salted caramel chocolate chip! No special name.
What was their initial reaction to Sally hugging them, as kids?: She just froze. That could just be me projecting adult Sabrina onto her childhood self; I don’t imagine that she was as uncomfortable around strangers or quite as cautious back then. But that’s what I’ll stick with.
How did they ace the ASE test?: The in-game option she takes is “My entire life has revolved around strategic avoidance,” but the one about being just plain smart also sounds like her. If Sab has the chance to thoroughly (over)prepare for something, she will do it. Her mind blindness also has her constantly (over)analyzing situations. So, hard work and relentless anxiety!
Did they manage to win their first assignment? How?: Yes, by having Sally block the door. I’ve headcanoned some slight differences in how it plays out, which I wrote about in-depth here. To summarize, Sab thinks of blocking the door as a desperate last resort, not a clever loophole, and she pushes back against Rosy’s praise because she wishes she could have done it the “real” way. Rosy goes from being impressed to being annoyed that she’s willfully missing the point.
What was the primary emotion Button felt during the Aeon bombing (love, gratitude, etc?): Guilt. She feels very guilty about how much Nick has given up for her in general, but I think that in the moment, it’s on a smaller scale. The fact that Nick was on the phone with her when it happened, coming to her rescue like always, becomes emblematic of their whole relationship for her, and she really fixates on that.
Who drove them home from the hospital from and why?: Glitch. Sab responds to her initial text with “Are you sure?”, and is relieved when Glitch takes that as “Yes, please.” She doesn’t relish the idea of being around someone more connected to her family or Nick at that point.
How do they feel about Nick riding around in their mind?: Worried, at first. Just because it’s so unknown and absolutely insane. After seeing Doctor Amari, she’s excited! Sab is thrilled to be a Pollard Five and intends to take full advantage of it. I am not looking forward to seeing how she reacts when that’s taken away from her.
Why did Button agree to do the undercover mission?: To prove she still deserves to be an MIV. Sabrina feels stupid and reckless for putting herself, Nick, and Aeon in this position, but she knows she’s smart, and she hasn’t worked this hard for nothing. She wants to prove what she could do with a normal Pollard Score and make herself too valuable to give up even when she’s back to Zero.
Told Glitch about your mind blindness?: Depends on the playthrough. I’m constantly going back and forth on whether Sab meets Glitch for coffee or wanders the city with Nick in her second chapter 5 slot (after trying to track down Kent). If she does meet Glitch, though, she absolutely tells her; with how touchy Sab is about privacy, she couldn’t stomach not warning Glitch that Nick could hear everything they said.
Figured out K’s secret?: Nope. She finds enough of the clues to be given the “I knew it!” option in-game, but she didn’t actually put it together. Sab is too angry and embarrassed by learning that Kent is an AMO to find any reason to interrogate it. “The random guy I met before school just happens to be a jerk” is a perfectly sound explanation to her.
Found Noh’s clues?: Not at the metro station. Sometimes she sees the Vengeance brooms in chapter 5 (again, depending on the playthrough), but that’s it.
ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:
Love Interest: Kent
Why them?: Sab feels an immediate kinship with Kent after learning about the NPO program. It’s kind of funny how quickly he moves from the least sympathetic position in her eyes (Ment who got past me and read my mind without my knowledge) to the most sympathetic (non-powered child of a prominent family aiming a league above where he “belongs”). A lot of new respect for his competence. Her fate is sealed when she realizes that his kindness at the hospital wasn’t him trying to make up for some wrongdoing, but just him being very sweet. (She had scoffed over “You needed help.” But now she’s like, “Oh. He meant that?! Fuck.”)
As they spend more time together, Sab realizes how weirdly similar they are in other ways, too. And she starts to feel safe/secure around him in a way that she’s extremely not used to. Growing up surrounded by Ments, Sab has a lot of issues about being too much, too difficult, needing to “be worthy” of love. So someone like Kent who is not a Ment, who has no “obligation” to care about her, and whose judgement she trusts implicitly? Being around him and being loved by him mean a lot, and I think will go a long way towards helping her reflect on her other relationships!
What are their first impressions of each other?: Okay, there are like 3 first impressions with Kent. First: he’s tall and handsome and secretly adorable, and they have similar career goals, so she’s drafting a five-month plan to woo him and get his number. Second: he’s a lying, self-obsessed loser who owes her many explanations. Third: oh no, the first impression was true! And he’s been continually, selflessly kind to her in spite of her overt hostility. Scratch the five-month plan, because the crush was only fun when it was entirely superficial; now she really, really likes him and that just sucks.
We know that Button makes a good impression on K by stopping for their dogs, but apart from that... I mean, the “we confused each other” from chapter 7 is very apt. Sab has lots of shifting personas, and Kent sees pretty much every one within 24 hours. The prevailing impression before everything gets cleared up is probably just that she cares a lot? About everything? Her stopping for the dogs, how seriously she takes the first assignment, the way she seems so deeply affected by something he said or did that morning. It’s a rare side of her to meet first because she usually pretends to be above everything.
What feature does your Button find most attractive in their RO (ex. appearance, personality, etc.)?: Probably his composure. And his... steadfastness? The way he seems unruffled by anything, his soothing presence. She really admires that about him and finds the calm contagious.
What do they do to spend time together?: Going on drives together! Kent driving while Sab plays songs she thinks he’ll like, talking or not talking. Cuddling on the couch while reading their own separate books. Museum dates. Walking the dogs together.
Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: I imagine that the first month or so of their relationship would be difficult, just because they’re both bad at expressing themselves and not used to relying on other people. Kent kind of negates a lot of Sab’s impulses to get defensive or hostile, so instead of arguments, I think there are more likely to be awkward periods where she’s just stewing in something without addressing it. Most of their fights would be, like, one of them becoming really distant for a concerning number of days until the other tries to awkwardly check in on them.
What does their future look like?: Uhh some random lore: I think eventually they do get married, despite neither of them caring that much about it. Sabrina would be excited to have something to plan, and she knows it would make the people around her happy. They have a long engagement; there’s never really an “official” proposal, just an acknowledgement that yeah, they’ll get married one day, and then eventually they get rings. The engagement is almost Sab’s favorite part, honestly. She likes planning and showing off her ring and calling Kent her fiancé, a lot of fanfare on her part for a wedding that ends up being very modest and chill.
OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)
Relationship with Nick: When I first started developing Sab, I thought that with as difficult/prickly as she can be, her relationship with Nick would be worse than it is. Never bad, but certainly strained, with more jealousy/resentment on her side. However, she rejected this. She is resentful, but never towards Nick—she internalizes the negative parts of their relationship so they manifest as guilt instead. And that’s the problem, not resentment. Sab thinks he’s overprotective, but that doesn’t make her angry; it just makes her sad. She wishes things were different and he didn’t feel so responsible for her, but she also doesn’t know how she could manage without him taking on so many of her burdens. So, guilt! So much love, but always looming guilt.
Having Nick in her head has helped. It’s added a new kind of guilt (“I’m a horrible person for being so giddy that people can’t hear my thoughts even though that requires my brother to be in a coma”), but getting inside Nick’s head for once and really feeling his love for her changes things. Makes her feel way more secure, I guess? It’s easier to see her brother as human person, a friend who loves her, rather than a perfect selfless paragon who sacrificed everything to raise her, which is an important shift.
There are also Things happening with self-presentation in the fact that they’re both models, and flirts, and pretend to be shallow. And the ways that they’ve responded to vastly different expectations. And selflessness versus selfishness. But I have no idea how to talk about that yet.
Relationship with Father: Strained and distant. Sabrina doesn’t necessarily blame him for leaving, but she hates how he’s handled it. She’s incredibly frustrated that John insists on keeping them in this miserable limbo of uncomfortable visits, even though moving away was (to her) a tacit acknowledgement that she and her parents are better off without each other. He’s trying to force a relationship that Sab thinks is ultimately harmful for everyone involved. For Nick’s sake, she’s willing to grin and bear the visits, but it never works because John can obviously tell it’s an act. He pushes her, she gets defensive, and so on to infinity.
Relationship with Mother: Like with John, Sab doesn’t resent Hope for the incident itself, or for leaving afterward. It was terrifying, and the idea of being around Hope makes her panic—but she thinks of that as just another irrational anxiety symptom, and she’s trying to work through it. What she does resent Hope for is letting it get to that point at all. Sab is incredibly bitter that Hope will suffer silently to the point of almost killing her (during the incident) and potentially herself (with the BRS), while Sab has no choice but to be completely open. Especially because they’re so similar in that way—she’s almost jealous. “Oh, so your silence is allowed to almost kill me and it’s ‘nobody’s fault’ but I can’t pretend to enjoy a single lunch with Dad without him calling me out for lying?”
And even though she doesn’t hold the incident itself against her, Sab is very hung up on “Why are you never quiet? Why are you always there?” She knows, on some level, that this was not a Personal Judgement against her. But because Hope keeps so much quiet, this is the only honest expression of her mother’s feelings that she can remember! It would take a lot for Sab to believe that Hope was really, genuinely interested in reconnecting with her, rather than just pretending to love her "enough” this time because to do otherwise would reflect poorly on Hope as a mother.
Relationship with Sally: Besties <3 Sally is the only member of the Wiseman inner circle that Sab doesn’t have complicated feelings about. They both have hidden morbid streaks that they bring out in each other, and can laugh about. They both have competitive streaks that work well together because they’re always on the same team. And their wants/needs from the relationship complement each other well, I think. Sally has always felt valued because she’s useful and not because she’s loved, while Sab has always felt smothered by love/care without feeling like she genuinely adds value to other people’s lives. So it means a lot to both of them that they’re able to help each other practically, while also genuinely loving and supporting each other outside of that.
Relationship with Gray: Full of trust and genuine care, but predicated on distance. Sab loves him a lot for being so careful not to cross any boundaries, physical or emotional, with her. She’s grateful that he’s there for Nick in a way that she doesn’t feel she can be. But "I like Gray because he doesn’t push me and is good to Nick” means that any hand he extend makes her defensive, because she’ll either view him as an emissary of Nick or start to panic because their normal routine is being disrupted (she doesn’t tell him about Hope in ch 3, for example).
They get along very well in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, and bond over being cautious counterparts to Nick. Also, Sab never had a crush on Gray, but she is not immune to tall superhero and thinks it’s fun to fake flirt with him. (You know Isabela’s “You have pretty eyes” routine from DA2? Sab does that to Gray when conversations steer towards things she’d rather not talk about.)
Relationship with Glitch: I’m really excited about these two! They click from the start, and Sabrina feels immediately comfortable around Glitch, which makes her feel distinctly uncomfortable whenever she catches herself. Externally, they have pretty different personalities, but they’re both perceptive and... socially manipulative? aware of their self-presentation?... in ways that they both pick up on right away. So it’s a lot of conversational maneuvering and trying to figure out what the other’s game is, while also genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
Relationship with Kent/Kenna: I could go truly insane here. See the romance section above instead.
Relationship with Kim: Sab wants him to like her sooooo bad. He’s one of the only people to ever really get through to her, re: my headcanon conversation after the first assignment. Authority figures tend to treat her as special, whether that’s negatively because of her mind blindness or positively because she’s such an overachiever. She had no idea how to respond to that not being the case (and didn’t handle it well at first), but chapter 6 solidifies her respect for him.
It also turns Rosy’s opinion of Sab around; he was impressed by her in class but left his office thinking she was self-absorbed and naive. But the bombing is a reality check, and her response is very measured and practical in a way that surprises him.
Relationship with Lev: She doesn’t mind the comparisons to Nick or the “maybe one day they’ll fix you” comments as much as you might think. They aren’t her favorite, but she prefers that sort of thing to the inspirational platitudes belied by coddling that she got from her family growing up. Sab has fond memories of Lev and is grateful that he’s always been kind to her, but doesn’t have any particular feelings apart from that.
Relationship with Clarence: Holds a grudge against him for causing a scene, making her late, and generally being a jerk. But she can’t fault him for being right, after what happened! Mostly she just wants to avoid him, but she’ll be thrilled to lord her success over him if/when she proves herself.
Relationship with Dean Branham: Like Rosy, another authority figure that Sab desperately wants to impress. But without the personal investment she has in Rosy’s validation, more “Oh, this person is in charge, so I should make her like me!” Despite Nick’s and Rosy’s reservations, Sabrina doesn’t really have a problem with being “strongarmed” or manipulated into cooperating; for now, she figures Branham was just doing her job and respects her tactics.
Relationship/attitude towards Ments in general: Mostly just uncomfortable and wary around them. Sab doesn’t want her mind read, and she figures that no Ment wants to be forced to read it either. So she has a pretty strict “no Ments” rule for close personal relationships (excluding Nick, Sally, and Gray, of course. But only Nick really counts because he’s the only one who can hear her thoughts whenever she’s nearby). Not out of hatred or resentment, just because she knows it will be easier for everyone in the long run.
Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): Not many, but yes! Sab dated around a lot in the 2 years before Aeon (more like year and a half, because she completely shut it down once she was more focused on preparing for the MIV program), but there are 2 relationships that were formative/important for her. A high school sweetheart, and someone Sab met through modeling. She doesn’t keep up with her high school ex, but the model is her best friend outside of Sally and Nick, and they still keep in touch! I’m still developing them/the relationships, and I’ll probably post more about them someday. They’re fun!
PERSONAL BIO
Describe their personality: Confusing and contradictory. She has two main modes that confuse people who meet both (e.g., Kent). She’s either cold, stuck-up, and sometimes hostile, OR she’s charming, frivolous, and sometimes flirty. Mode 1 is tense but stoic and inexpressive; mode 2 is seemingly relaxed but very posed and insincere. Mode 1 is for when she feels uncertain or has no agenda apart from “get to point B”; mode 2 is for when she’s more comfortable or trying to manipulate someone. Her actual personality is a bit closer to the second, but she doesn’t pretend not take things seriously or hide when she’s annoyed.
Strengths: Analytical, methodical, detail-oriented. Very driven and hardworking. May not always act like it, but does have social skills/charisma; a great liar, if you can’t read her mind. Unfailingly loyal and loving to her favorite people, so so so warm and affectionate and supportive if she really loves you. Very perceptive.
Weaknesses: Way too proud. Can be petty and vindictive. Self-absorbed (she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s hard for her to see past herself sometimes). Stubborn, hates being wrong. And... emotional isn’t the word, but strong negative emotions can really cloud her judgement. It ties into her being proud, petty, and stubborn; if she’s really upset about something, she can cling to that emotion instead of re-evaluating it or moving forward.
Phobias: From this ask about the phobias that are planned to show up in-game, there are a few that I could see fitting Sab, but I want to wait to see how they’re implemented before I fully commit. Which is very metagame-y, I know (and I am very metagame-y about IF), but “fear of X” is so broad that it really does depend on when/how it manifests in the text.
That being said, agoraphobia is almost a lock; crowds do make Sab very anxious if she can’t keep track of everyone within a certain distance, and if she can’t leave when she starts feeling antsy. Claustrophobia is a maybe. The choice that triggers it (in chapter 4, about hating MRI machines) suits Sab, but I’m not sure if she hates MRI machines because she hates tight spaces, or if it’s more related to her general anxiety about hospitals, medical tests, etc. Which she definitely has!
What activities/club did they do in school?: She avoided anything group-oriented as far as possible. She took piano (maybe violin?) lessons and did recitals, but wasn’t in orchestra. The one exception was maybe National Honor Society or some equivalent, which she would have joined for her resume’s sake. And I think she would have tutored!
Where do they escape to when they need space?: A little used library corner, where she can people watch without being seen/heard.
How do they feel about/cope with their mind blindness?: Sab hates it but tries not to dwell on it. She knows that it’s no one’s fault, and she mainly just tries to... minimize it? Drown out her thoughts, limit her contact with Ments. And, least healthily, very rigidly managing herself. Because there’s so much of her that exists outside of herself, without her control, she tries to either filter or completely suppress everything else. Part of why she got into modeling, she can perform and be perfect and have total control over the final product of her body in the photographs for whatever campaign. Some Day This Will Be Better. But definitely not where she is in current canon.
How has your Button changed since the Incident with Hope?: Developed many new anxieties and disorders and syndromes :) She also became way more self-conscious, as in literally conscious of and way more tightly monitoring herself, what she’s thinking, what she’s expressing, how she’s sitting, etc. Less emotive face, more rigid posture.
If they weren’t an Aeon student, what would they be doing?: Sab would have beaten herself up forever if she “proved everyone right” by avoiding Unity/Ments entirely, so she’d want to stay in the family business somehow. She probably would have ended up doing scientific research on mental agility. Maybe even working for Mirrortech or some other biotech company, which I imagine would have been an interesting conversation to have with the family.
RANDOM FACTS:
Zodiac sign: Like I said, I assigned her Libra months ago for the sake of a template. But I don’t know enough about astrology to commit. Libra or Leo, probably.
Hobbies: Music, reading poetry, “cooking” (i.e., sitting on the counter and not helping while Nick makes dinner)
Likes: Watching other people (Nick) play video games, dressing up, taking long showers/baths, dark chocolate with caramel, back hugs
Dislikes: Being patronized, hot weather, going to the doctor, driving, doing anything she is not good at
Type of bedsheets: Bamboo.
Drink of choice: Cucumber mint lemonade! For hot drinks, some kind of caramel coffee. For alcohol, she refuses to get drunk because she’s terrified of having even less control of her mental broadcast, but at home/around people she trusts she’ll have a glass or two of wine. Doesn’t know enough to be picky, but doesn’t like it too sweet.
Favorite food: Probably some pasta dish Nick makes with asparagus and tomatoes and a lot of garlic.
Favorite color: Like a light turquoise!
Favorite music: Music to her was another mind-shielding tactic before anything else, so she tends to like upbeat-ish electronic/pop stuff. Catchy and repetitive, and/or with lots of personality to drown out her own thoughts. On the other end of the spectrum, she does have a soft spot for crackly, lo-fi, old or old-sounding slow songs—something about fuzzy recordings simulating a weak telepathic signal.
Favorite season: Hmm, spring and autumn are both good. She likes either side of winter.
Anything else you’d like to share: My heart and a long, fulfilling marriage, with anyone who reads all this 💍
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mydearesthrry · 4 years
Text
places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker
summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?
word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)
pairings - peter parker x fem!reader
warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy
a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.
also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!
series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist
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(gif not mine!)
when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.
the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre. 
when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.
since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.
when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation. 
you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.
being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.
despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right? 
wrong.
when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.
peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought. 
little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?
your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.
“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open. 
“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.
-------
once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way. 
“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.
“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.
“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.
“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.
“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”
“pleasure to meet you too.”
“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”
“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers. 
“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.
“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”
“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you. 
“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.
“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.
“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.
“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion. 
“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them. 
“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj. 
“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.
“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless. 
“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.
“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.
“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle. 
“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.
“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.
“nice to meet you, parker.”
“you too, stark, my pleasure.”
----
after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.
as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.
“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit. 
“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.
“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.
“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.” 
“thanks parker.”
--------
once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.
“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.
“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.
“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”
“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.
“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.
“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.
“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.
“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.
“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.
“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart. 
“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.
“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.” 
“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.
“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.
“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his  pockets. 
once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.
once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,
“peter?”
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joheun-saram · 4 years
Text
To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02
Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats
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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.
word count- 5k
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- pg13 for now
genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers
warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy
a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.
Feedback much appreciated! 💕
taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut 
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Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger's house. 
Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.
In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash. 
As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year. 
When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.
He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.
He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.
Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.
“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.
“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head. 
“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.
“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.
“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”
“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous.
“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.
Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.
Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.
As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.
Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?
Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?
Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!
Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?
Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…
Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.
Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.
Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?
Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.
The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?
The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.
After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.
“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.
“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”
“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.
“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.
“I’m good. Are you still at work?”
“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?
“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.
“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter. 
“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.
“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.
“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.
“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.
“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.
“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”
“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”
He had never been this excited to pretend to work.
  ____________________________
He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.
You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”
That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.
“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.
“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.
“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.
“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”
“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”
“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.
“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.
“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”
“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.
“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.
After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.
“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.
“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.
“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.
“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.
He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.
“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.
“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.
“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.
“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.
“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”
He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.
“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.
“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session. 
“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.
“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.
“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.
“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.
“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.
“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”
“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.
“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.
“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.
He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.
He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”
“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.
“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.
“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.
“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.
“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.
“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.
“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that. 
In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.
That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.
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myriadimagines · 4 years
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End Of The Year Faves 2020!
Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!
i was tagged by the lovely @lxncelot & @musicallisto !!!
i’ve only written 10 one shots this year since i stopped taking requests rip. i only ended up picking 5 of them bc i didnt like the rest. also i love talking about the behind the scenes of writing like its just so fun. i literally went through my revision history in my google docs to see how i wrote these akjsdhasjd so literally........... if anyone wants to talk to me about a piece........... just shoot me an ask bc i will gladly tell u all about it
1. Lifetimes (Sebastien le Livre) 
this might be my number one bc it’s the most recent and i havent decided i hate it yet but wrote this as an alternative to therapy lmfaooooooo and it’s been a month but um. it still hurts. but anyway, i started off with the below paragraph:
And Booker has centuries of pain under his belt. Endless years of trauma that he cannot even begin to unpack. But you don’t have centuries. You don’t have lifetimes to reconcile with all the cruelty in the world  —  you just have one, and Booker knows he of all people should know just how much hurt one lifetime can contain.
and just worked around it, bc i was just really obsessed with the concept of having multiple lifetimes and all that, and just the fact that life has so much pain and hurt and it just sucks. i edited the first sentence for the final but otherwise it’s the same. i think i came up with some pretty good lines in this if i do say so myself, and i mentioned it in the a/n, but i intended for it to be longer but didn’t want to push it after i feel like i had written all i wanted to. i just wanted someone to hold me and comfort me clearly. 
2. Cursed Blood (Renfri)
i am obsessed with renfri as a character and her whole story, and the whole concept of her being cursed just felt like something that i really wanted to explore and write about. these were the first lines i wrote for the piece:
But every time you kiss her, you swear that it’s impossible her lips could be poison. Or perhaps you grew so used it, that the poison tasted sweet. 
i ended up editing this a lot for the final version, but a trend in my writing seems to be i always come up with how to end a piece and just work around it. i really enjoyed going into depth into renfri’s character and it kinda felt more like a character study than a reader insert? but eventually i found a way to work the reader in there and i liked where the story went, bc renfri deserves happiness and someone to be there for her.
3. Roadside (Robin Buckley)
still in shock at how many notes this one got and i am forever grateful to everyone who reblogged/left comments!!! this was for lacey’s ( @moonlit-imagines ) writing challenge, and idk why when i saw the prompt i immediately decided to use robin. for this one, i actually started with the beginning, which was the prompt, “Let’s take a walk. Just you and me.”
i mentioned this in the a/n, but i planned it to be a lot more angsty and wasn’t even planning on ending it on a happy note askjdhaksd the original plot i had in mind was that robin and the reader were into each other but were dancing around each other’s feelings. so one night, the reader drunkenly kisses steve at a party to try and make robin jealous, but it ends up just causing a rift between robin and the reader even after they confess their feelings. here is a part i wrote for the original plot before i decided to scrap it and go with the final plot.
“Look, I don’t even care if you and Steve get together.” Robin waves her hand, and you’re not used to seeing such disappointment on your best friend’s face as she lets out a shaky breath. She looks as if she’s struggling to collect herself before she asks, “I just… why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t.” you desperately blurt, and Robin’s eyebrows furrow. Shaking your head, you take a step towards her as you explain, “I didn’t lie, Robin, I swear. I don’t like Steve. What happened at the party meant nothing—”
Robin scoffs. “Then why—”
“—because I wanted you to see.” you finally confess, and Robin stares at you. You’re shaking, tears welling in your eyes as you continue, “Because I thought I could make you jealous, because I was just too afraid to make a move and wanted you too. And I know that’s silly of me, and I never meant to hurt your feelings—”
i changed the plot because i didn’t think i could pull it off, and i didn’t know how to fully end it. i liked where it ended up going anyway after the change of direction so all good!!
4. Games (Michael Gray)
so this was inspired by a gif imagine request that @fangirlsarah16 sent me, which you can find here!! you can literally see me already plotting for the piece in the tags aksjdha i just loved how angsty the situation was, and i love michael, so i decided to just run with it. i put what i had already written into a document and just pieced everything in around it. this is definitely one of my more dramatic pieces, but i just loved how the story came together and how all the other characters were included. 
i already planned to write a part 2 while i was still writing this piece, but obviously that hasnt happened yet. also i got discouraged bc i thought it would do better in terms of notes but oh well. i wrote around 300 words of where i wanted part 2 to go, and i still have it saved, but i dont want to share it in case i end up writing it. also, i have 2 plots in mind for where i want part 2 to go, and haven’t decided which one i want to go with. we’ll have to wait and see i guess >:)
5. Off Limits (Cassian Andor)
ah yes, the first in my rewrite project that is going along very slowly. basically, im planning on rewriting my super old one shots in hopes that i’ll like them. i swear i’ve got the next one shot in my drafts but i just havent had the time to finish it yet. anyway, the original piece, which i wrote 4 years ago (!!!!), was the piece that really got my blog started and helped me get activity/attention, and it has around 500 notes, which kinda makes the new version look depressing bc it only has 97 and it’s definitely a lot better in my opinion. 
i don’t really have a detailed process for this one, seeing as i was just improving upon an old piece, but one of the main things i did want to change was cassian’s characterisation. i felt like i just made him too mean in my old piece, and i wanted to loosen him up a bit. i managed to bang this one in one day and i just think it’s some cute content and i miss the rogue one squad!!
i’m tagging @moonlit-imagines @emcon-imagines @lotsoffandomimagines @dannyboy-writes @murswrites @randomfandomimagine @sonsofeorl @spxder-mxns & all other content creators that see this!! i’m definitely missing a lot but everyone should share their favorite pieces from this year :’)
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kidcataldo · 4 years
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Summary: Severus has a secret created by a lie. Now that lie is dead and the secret is on its way to Hogwarts.
I haven’t read the books since high school, but I just went on a harry potter movie binge and wrote this in my drafts for the fun of it. You can also find it here, or you can click “keep reading” and read it on tumblr.
Dead. He received the letter by owl over breakfast: "I regret"—I regret—"to inform you her state of mind has only gotten worse these past few months and it is expected she will die before nightfall." Malfoy thought he might like to know—how he found out, Severus hadn't a clue—but he had little interest in the matter; he preferred to forget her existence altogether. Beryl Bulstrode, ghastly woman: she joined the Death Eaters right after him—for him, in fact, he was told later. Her intentions were as clear as day to any seeing man, so Severus must have been blind his entire life and not realized it. She was a mad woman in her prime; he could only imagine what the Dementors created while she rotted in Azkaban all those years. Nothing pretty, and she entered looking horrid. Would he tell Dumbledore? Yes, of course he would—but nothing more.
Malfoy must have also told his son, for the entire school looked at him differently that day. He caught a group of third year Ravenclaw girls talking quietly amongst themselves on their way to the dining hall—they fell silent when he caught sight of their gossiping, and then they hurried away when he approached them. Minerva could barely look at him while Pomona kept sneaking glances at him. And his students were unusually quiet too. The misfits and troublemakers kept to themselves, hardly causing any ruckus at all. The Wesley twins in particular behaved uncharacteristically that day—obeying his every instruction, not attempting to blow up their potions for the joke of it, even referring to him as sir instead of professor, or not acknowledging him at all. It was quite nice, actually.
By dinner, everyone must have known. Sybill Trelawney was the only one brave enough to speak to him about it; he sat through a long ramble of hers throughout dinner, pretending not to hear her, as other professors and some students watched on in horror. Minerva tried to shut her up a few times, but the daft woman never caught on; "Oh, Severus, to lose a loved one so dear to one's heart," the loony woman said to him. "I can only imagine what that boy of yours is going through." The boy. It was always about the bloody boy. Albus's eyes briefly searched his own, and then Sybill was back to her babbling.
---
"You must tell the boy, Severus," said Albus. He was sitting in his chair. Phineas Nigellus's portrait hung above him, looking on as he reached for his bowl of sherbet lemons and offered one to Severus.
Severus shook his head and quickly turned away. "No," he said. "No—you've asked plenty from me already..."
"They may suspect something if you don't."
"And if they do?" said Severus. He turned back to the headmaster; his calm demeanor hadn't shifted, but the portrait above him was now empty. "Your plan was ridiculous from the start—it's a wonder how we've gotten this far without anyone realizing..."
Albus sighed. "If Lucius Malfoy, or anyone else, were to discover—" He stopped quickly at the sound of footsteps, and then they heard a quick knock on his door. "Come in," he said, turning his attention to the door.
Minerva entered the room with the confidence of a group of centaurs riding off to battle—or a strict transfiguration professor in need of a word with her superior—but she stopped and hesitated upon seeing Severus standing there. Again, as she had done throughout the day, she avoided looking at him. His past had odd ways of creeping up on the both of them.
"Yes, Minerva?" asked Albus calmly, bringing the attention back onto himself. Severus excused himself quietly just as Minerva announced the restoration of the girls' bathroom to its former glory, and then continued by questioning the whereabouts of that nasty troll. Severus was nearly out the door when Albus politely silenced Minerva and halted his departure. "Tell the boy, Severus," he said, and Severus slammed the door shut. That bloody boy.
---
How long had it been, he wondered, since they had seen each other last? Summer, perhaps. But he never kept track, nor did he care to do so. "Must you always mess with that thing?" The boy sat on his knees at the head of the table with Severus's enchanted red quill in his hands, attempting to tame the magical object; the more he tried to control it, the more it resisted his touch. With the wave of Severus's wand, it was out of the boy's grimy little hands and back in its holder. "It doesn't like you. Leave it alone."
He turned, his brown eyes showing no new change in emotion. "You're here."
"I am." Mrs. Cott let out a gentle snore in the rocking chair near the fire. He thought, or rather hoped, she had died and had been rotting there upon first entering the room—and to be perfectly honest, what a pity it was to learn that was not the case. Large wooden knitting needles moved mechanically in front of her, working tirelessly on a grey and green sweater.
He waved his wand again and the needles fell onto the old woman's lap. The old woman jolted awake with a loud snort. She remained still for a long moment, blinking her eyes and tasting her lips to adjust to her new wakeful state, until she caught sight of Severus and sprung out of her chair, letting the needles and unfinished sweater fall to her feet. "Severus, you're—well, I wasn't expecting you so soon."
"You're paid to watch him while I'm away, Mrs. Cott," he reminded her stiffly, "not lounge around like you're on holiday."
Her eyes searched the room, and then outside where it was dark. "Is it the holiday season already? So soon?"
"Leave us now," he commanded, again facing the boy. "I need a word with the boy alone." Her quiet footsteps hurried off through the kitchen door.
"What's happened?" the boy said. His hair was dark auburn, nearly brown—not like it was a few years ago. "Did Dumbledore die?" And those eyes, ordinary and brown, were far from exceptional. He had a mole below his left eye, just above his cheek. He looked and acted simply ordinary, like no one he had ever seen before.
"What makes you think that?"
He shrugged. "I dunno." His words were also never snarky, never trying to resist Severus's authority. But he was annoying with his questions, and he was hardly ever satisfied with the answers given to him. "You don't usually come back so soon, unless there's an emergency."
"Dumbledore did not die," he said. It seemed he always spoke in riddles with him—never quite finding the nerve to lie, just alter the truth.
"But someone did?" And he always seemed to catch on. "Who was it, then?"
Severus huffed. "The woman you call mother," he said, hoping he would understand.
"Oh," said the boy. He adjusted himself on the chair, sitting properly with his feet under the table. There was parchment in front of him and on it was scribbled a drawing—Severus couldn't make out what it was; it looked something like a figure. In the kitchen, Mrs. Cott could be heard moving pots and pans around, or something of that sort.
"Accio, pen," muttered Severus, summoning a normal, non-magical pen. "Here," he said, tossing it onto the table. "Finish your silly drawing. And don't even think about using my quill again." He turned to leave, apparate the hell out of there—back to Hogsmeade, back to Hogwarts.
"Was she also a Slytherin," he asked suddenly, and he turned back to him. "Beryl Bulstrode?" The woman he called mother.
"Yes."
"Do you think I'll be a Slytherin?"
"I doubt it," Severus said to him, and he apparated away.
A week later, he received a letter from the Ministry, asking about funeral arrangements—as if he owned the damn corpse. "The boy ought to see her be buried," Albus's voice rang in his ears. "It might give him closure." Severus hoped to burn the body; in front of the current Minister and all his minions, even. They all believed the boy was born in Azkaban—that was why he was so small and weak and fragile, they said; the Dementors drained both mother and son's soul for several months before it was discovered she was with child. Dumbledore and Bagnold knew the truth, of course—but they would take that truth to their graves.
Again, upon Albus's request, he visited the boy and prepared him for the woman he called mother's funeral. Severus, the boy, Mrs. Cott, and Dolores Umbridge, who worked close to the Minister were the only people in attendance at her funeral. She had other family—distant cousins, aunts and uncles—but none Severus was close to, and they never wrote asking to attend. When they arrived at the gravesite, the boy ran off to search the graveyard, leaving Severus alone with Mrs. Cott and Umbridge—the two most unpleasant women in the wizarding world. The boy returned before the closed—thankfully—casket made its descent with a handful of wild flowers, all uniquely styled, and placed them on top of the casket. Umbridge did not stay long; she offered her deepest condolences with a phony, sympathetic smile, briefly touched the boy's shoulder, which he shrugged away, and then left. Severus apparated soon after.
---
Winter came and it went. And by the end of the year, everyone seemed to put the Beryl Bulstrode business behind them, for other events surrounding the school distracted them. Students started behaving like themselves around him again, Minerva was no longer hesitant to speak with him, Sybill no longer tried talking to him during dinner; all seemed well, given the circumstance. And then it was summer, and the boy could not keep his mouth shut about Hogwarts, no matter how many times Severus told him to shut up. He wore the green and grey sweater vest Mrs. Cott knitted for him nearly every day; perhaps expecting to be sorted into Slytherin. Severus, of course, knew better. When his letter arrived one expected morning over breakfast, he made Mrs. Cott take him to get his supplies the next afternoon. Severus stayed behind to read a book. He arrived back with new robes, a wand, and a grey furry fat cat he named Gravy—a parting gift from Mrs. Cott, much to Severus's dismay. His books had yet to come in, however, so with great reluctance, before the start of the new school year, Severus took the boy back to Diagon Alley.
It was there he saw him, standing with the Weasleys, looking as filthy as a Weasley, and the Granger girl, along with her muggle parents. Gilderoy Lockhart was there as well, looking more doll than man—Severus felt his blood boil; why Albus chose him of all people, he would never understand. He could feel them all staring, but he refused to acknowledge any of them. "I thought he only came out of his coffin during the school year," he overheard one of the Weasley twins whisper to the other; Severus chose to ignore their snickering, but made a mental note to assign them both detention their first day back.
While he waited for the boy to retrieve his books, Severus found himself tangled in a brief conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Granger as Hermione Granger looked on with a mixture of embarrassment and concern on her face. Potter and Weasley observed the conversation as well, but their eyes were daggers; he decided to assign two more detentions at the start of the school year. Finally, Mr. Weasley guided the muggles elsewhere. Lucius Malfoy and his son arrived shortly after, looking on at the group with as much hate as Severus, but the boy had returned with his books before anything could develop beyond a courteous hello. But Severus noticed Draco give the boy a nod and a gentle smile as they passed him to leave the shop.
He wish he could say the start of the new school year was as smooth as the last, or the one before that, but the famous Harry Potter could not allow that to happen. He was proving to be more and more like his father each year, unfortunately. He was told he and Weasley didn't even board the train at platform nine-and-three-quarters—choosing to arrive by car instead—and at the start of the feast, before the first years were even sorted, he received word from Filch about Potter and Weasley's fashionable entrance, diving into the whomping willow head first in a blue Ford Anglia, a car belonging to Weasley's own father. The Evening Profit arrived soon after, and it was worse than Severus could have imagined. They both should have been expelled for their foolish behavior, and any normal boy would, but the Boy Who Lived always did have special privileges at Hogwarts, and everywhere else too—if Lockhart's story over staff breakfast had any merit. And if Albus was indeed correct about... his return, perhaps it was better Potter remained at Hogwarts, under his watchful eye.
A migraine blossomed while shouting at the pair and, by the time Minerva and Albus arrived, he was fuming. He stormed out with Albus following close behind, leaving Minerva to tend to their needs—they had missed the feast; if it were him, he might just let them starve, but Minerva conjured up some sandwiches the house elves made earlier that evening.
---
"The boy's sorting has surprised us all," said Albus, sounding slightly amused. They were walking the halls now; Severus had calmed some, but his blood still boiled. On their journey, they encountered a group of Slytherin first years being guided to their house's common room—coming at no surprise, the boy was not among them.
"Why? We knew he would be sorted into Gryffindor," said Severus casually as he nodded to the first year students. Albus gave them a gentle wave.
"He wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, Severus," said Albus—and Severus stopped, letting the first years pass.
He waited until they turned the corner before he asked, "Where exactly did the sorting hat put him?"
Severus had just always assumed he would be sorted into Gryffindor—with Potter and... the rest of them. He never really saw the boy as anything else; he never really cared to think of him as anything but a Gryffindor. "Florus Snape, son"—Severus flinched at the word while Albus remained unfazed—"of Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, was sorted into Hufflepuff this evening," said Albus. And he chuckled softly to himself. "I wish you were there to witness Pomona's reaction. She nearly flew out of her chair."
Somehow the man's words made him feel better, slightly less angry. Severus said his farewells to Dumbledore, and then quickly turned his heel and headed in the same direction as the Slytherin first years. He wasn't relieved, no. He never lingered on what house the boy might get into; he didn't know him well enough to do so, but he assumed it would be Gryffindor. Why should he care what house the boy was sorted in? Gryffindor, Hufflepuff... he was still—he still wasn't... It made no difference at all.
"You can't stay out here," said Draco Malfoy's voice clearly as he drew close to the Slytherin common room. "You have to go back to your own common room."
Severus turned another corner just as he heard Vincent Crabbe say, "Maybe the sorting hat was wrong."
"Not likely," said Pansy Parkinson.
"Look. It's not like Hufflepuff is a bad house—well, it's not good, but at least you're not in Gryffindor," continued Malfoy, "with Potter... and the Weasleys."
Malfoy and his gang stood outside the portrait of the serpent. "What's going on here? Why are you in the halls passed hour?" he said, and then he saw him, dressed in his Hufflepuff robes, eyes red and puffy from crying—he rarely witnessed the boy cry; he sniffed as Severus approached him. "Ten points from Hufflepuff—get back to your common room. Now."
"He's upset he's not in Slytherin," explained Draco. Severus glared at him, which made his eyes go wide in shock and he quickly added, "Sir."
"I'm sorry, sir," the boy cried out as he rubbed his watery eyes.
Severus felt a slight pain in his gut as he grabbed the boy by his wrist and pulled him away from the group. "That doesn't excuse your behavior." The pain in his gut only grew stronger as he stared into those unfamiliar glossy brown eyes, and he found himself loosening his grip on him. "Would you quit your incessant whining. Your mother wouldn't care which house you were sorted in. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, you could be in Ravenclaw and it still wouldn't matter to her."
The boy stopped crying. Looking up at Severus, he sniffed. "Really?"
And Severus realized his mistake immediately; he let go of the boy's wrist. "Yes, really," he said, reverting back to his sternness. "Now go. Before I take another ten points from Hufflepuff."
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semiconducting · 4 years
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just reflecting on some personal growth stuff from last year !
im actually. genuinely okay. like i think im starting this year feeling okay! which is atypical. 
i think i can attribute it to the enormous amount of work id put into myself over the past year...i remember one year ago being extraordinarily depressed and really just. high strung? incredibly anxious but exhausted. and i fell down a descent slowly from not eating, to getting really irritable and not handling conflicts with friends well, to actively self harming again, to the point where i remembered sitting in a coffee shop with one of my friends and saying out loud that i need to go to therapy. and that i was going to talk to a mutual friend of ours about how the therapy services on campus are. which was a huge step for me! ive always had trust issues with therapy services since i was 12 for reasons i wont go into, but im sure you can gather the point of.
and then, literally the next day after saying that, got news about campus shutting down because of the virus.
and i made all of the effort possible to reach out to my friends and get things figured out to weather the storm because i KNEW shit was going to get bad if i didnt. but only one of my friends was really keeping up, and thats because he and i do homework together so we were already in a rhythm of talking every single week no matter what. and thats not to say that im ungrateful for him or the fact that even still he was there for me while i was going through hell, i have this thing about Not Putting All My Problems On And Confiding In One Person And One Person Only. so i withdrew, i stopped talking to everyone, i stopped logging into my classes, i didnt do any homework, i didnt lead my workshops, didnt hold office hours...i was just wallowing in my own misery
and i made plans to kill myself. and thats like, i mean i could say that several dozen times over the course of a year since i was like 12, but i mean a legitimate walkthrough plan. had my hiking bag packed with everything i was going to use, decided where i was going to, and was going to prep myself for it. wrote drafts and drafts of suicide notes until i decided just leaving the contact info of people who needed to know asap was all i was going to leave. in addition to sticky notes on some stuff in my room for what needed to be returned to who, or if something should go to someone in particular...
and i acted as normally as i could around my housemates. attributed my not leaving my room much to being busy with classes. i have a rule to myself to always sleep at least one night before killing myself because if im really serious about going through with it it can always wait one day. this time i decided i was going to clean my room and leave it as pristine as possible. the last thing i had to do was a load of laundry, and then i was going to do it.
and then someone from campus showed up at my door. because one of my professors filed a report and i hadnt responded to any of the emails id received checking in on me.
so i readjusted. caught up on my schoolwork, just barely finished the semester and definitely didnt do it strong or well (god bless the pass/fail option bc of covid LOL), but i did it nonetheless. went home, started my internship, had a miserably mundane summer.
i grew bitter and apathetic. i was angry at my friends for not being responsive when i reached out to them to talk or hang out or do anything. i got tired of dealing with it. i was tired of feeling alone and like no one gave a shit about me except for when it was convenient for them. i decided that i wasnt going to deal with people who werent willing to put any effort into me, so i stopped talking to everyone and kept up with people who were willing to reach out after the fact.
it’s definitely not the best approach. it’s really unforgiving and it doesn’t give people a lot of benefit of the doubt, but i think it was necessary in some respect. i didn’t have any criteria for how people needed to reach out, or how long after, or whatever, just that they did. really needed people in my life who are willing to communicate with me. i was honest with how i was feeling and why i did things if they did, apologized for the shitty approach, thanked them for still being willing to talk to me, and worked out the best way for both of us to keep things going.
over the months i dont think i really regret the decision, because it’s been a weight off my shoulders. i feel a lot better. i’m far more okay with where i stand in all of my friends’ lives, even if that’s not as a priority and even if that’s as just someone to talk to and catch up with like a couple times a year. it took a bit for it to pay off but it’s nice to take a look at people i was putting far too much work into and upon reflection realizing that they only interacted with me when they needed something from me, and not for me as a person. i think there are still people where there are loose ends and i think i may try reaching out myself to tie those up at some point, whenever i have the energy and clarity of mind for it. but i guess at the end of the day i just decided that people who weren’t willing to communicate weren’t worth the time. i’m okay if that communication means i need to be the one to initiate conversations even! i just need to know that.
but yeah. i came back to ny and started the semester totally apathetic and angry. i was so fucking depressed and bored with everything even if i was keeping myself incredibly busy. the only thing that i found rewarding (and what was just barely keeping me going) was leading my workshop for the intro optics class. 
and then a friend -- the same friend i was at the coffee shop with -- reached out to catch up. and i was honestly really bitter and angry with him and was prepping myself to start listing out issues that i hadnt been able to address with him beforehand (side note, while telling friends the issues you have with them is important, listing shit out all at once is hardly ever a good approach especially without warning LOL) but ended up...just having a calming and comfortable conversation about what was going on in our lives since we last saw each other. 
n later that day i ended up reaching out to an old friend that i had been meaning to catch up with because we fell out of contact, but had just barely been trying to start talking again in the months before this but had kept missing opportunities to properly converse. but we talked again, and we set up a day to hike and catch up.
and he comes to my house and picks me up. and i get in his car. and its like, holy shit, its been almost a year since ive seen you. and we hugged. and just started to catch each other up on the mess that had been our lives since we’d actively been in contact. we hiked, he told me about the books he wanted to write, we talked about people we knew, we talked about politics, we talked about school, we talked about life, and it was just as comfortable as if not a day had passed...even though it was obvious that he and i were both changed people over the past year. nothing about our friendship was any different though.
we resolved to hanging out with each other every week. decided we both needed the interaction, appreciated having each other around, and had a nice overlap of free time in the week that worked well. friday nights unless otherwise specified.
it was totally unexpected. he’d always been a great friend to me, but i never expected us to get as close as we did. neither did he. he’s probably the first person in my life (or at least in a very long time, and certainly the only person at the time) that i’d been so comfortable with that i practically had no boundaries around. none that needed to be addressed, anyway, because the only possible ones to throw up wouldn’t even come up (but of course, i constantly reassured that as soon as anything came up i would let him know because early on he kept asking sjhdkjfh). 
he became something for me to look forward to in the week. towards the beginning he was a shoulder to lean on when i needed it and was willing to listen to things i hadn’t been able to tell anyone out loud. and he confided in me as well. it was comfortable. it was safe. it was a level of trust with vulnerability that i’d never shown anyone else. 
but it wasnt even just that! it was fun! hes so fun. we could talk about everything and nothing, and hes one of the only people where i feel like i have to keep up with him in conversation instead of the other way around. we’d jump from topic to topic so much faster than either of us could think and it was all always so interesting. littered with humour that was just dumb and simple. i felt comfortable just being an idiot with him. i felt like i had nothing to prove. 
for the past few years ive held to the sentiment that i like to hang around with people that make me a better person. but somehow, with him, its not that i felt like he made me a better person, but that he made me more myself. he saw who i was without any kind of fronts. and i always was afraid to show anyone that me because i always assumed that they would be depressing, loathsome, bitter, angry, and vicious.
but....i’m not. i learned that i’m incredibly loving. that i’d do fuckin anything to for my friends, but always in a way that was healthy and rewarding for both of us. i’m very light-hearted and my sense of humour is so stupid, but also very analytical and thoughtful. just a bit judgmental and pretentious, but always for things that people dont expect. totally open minded in discussions. an avid explorer, and a bit of a thrillseeker. and so, so, so affectionate.
i realized im. not as horrible as ive always made myself out to be. i accepted that i didnt need to punish myself for things beyond my control. i realized that i could believe people when they tell me that they enjoy my company, or appreciate things i do for them, or that they think i’m a worthwhile person to keep around. 
its not that i dont have my flaws, its not that there arent things that i have to work on still. but maybe, at my core, i’m not actually motivated by spite, i’m not actually a hopeless pessimist, and that i’m not...broken. i’m not some secretly irredeemable monster.
and for a period of time i’ve been in a place where i could say i was genuinely...happy! and i don’t think i’ve ever been able to say that. i’ve certainly been made happy by doing things with friends in the past, i’ve been through periods where i’ve been okay with where i am at in life, but ever since i was like 12 (but probably even before that) i’d never been able to say that i was happy. it’s not that i wasn’t stressed, it’s not that things in my life were all going perfectly....but they didn’t define my mood. they didn’t define my view of myself. school, despite being the primary focus of my life, wasn’t dictating how i was feeling. even when things were agonizing and depressing because of school, i was still okay. i was incredibly stable.
and i owe that all to him being there for me. and hardly any of these things were anything that he was really directly responsible for, like its not that he sat there and just constantly showered me in reassurance and praise or anything that changed how i view myself...it was just having his company. it was just being able to sit there and listen to him go on about some totally random thing that he was exceptionally knowledgeable about. it was exploring caves and climbing hills. it was cooking together. it was talking about science. it was talking about love. it was talking about music. it was just having a consistent presence in my life, someone that treated me like a priority but never at the expense of himself, and someone i didn’t have to walk on any kind of eggshells around. it was someone who trusted me and respected me not by anything id done to warrant it, but just because of who i was. 
it was a reminder that i can take care of my own problems, that i just need to be a good presence in someone’s life and for them to be a good presence in mine.
but also that i can accept help from people who genuinely want to offer it! and that that help doesnt always have to be direct. that sometimes helping me means i get to do something nice for someone else LOL
it was everything i ever needed and i wasnt even looking for it. he meant the world to me and i was so, so thankful for the circumstances that led us here because i was so happy to have him in my life again. i was happy that we were able to get closer because we’d only been able to interact in professional environments before.
and then i realized i was in love. and i had a sexuality crisis. but i didn’t recognize it until i fell hard because it was a different kind of love than i’ve felt for anyone before. it was intense but entirely too comfortable. but i knew that i cared about him, and that he cared about me, and that i really didn’t need anything about our friendship to change but that it had potential to be something even greater than it was.
and i resolved to tell him about it...until he told me first. and that moment was, as cheesey as it sounds, nothing less than magical. we were both so happy and giggly and it was so sweet and warm and i dont know if im ever going to be able to recreate that feeling because it was just so particular, so specific to being something between me and him. its not that i cant love anyone else as strongly or be as happy as i was necessarily, but it’ll never be that same kind of feeling.
but things happened. things got complicated. i think he panicked. and then things that happened just felt so dirty and hollow and dark. he hurt me really, really, really badly, and it managed to happen in the span of four days.
and i’ve spent the last <2 weeks dealing with it. i think he’s dealing with it in his own ways, but realistically i don’t know how because i havent seen him since christmas eve, and we were both definitely not being completely genuine that day. was at his house for a small family party and he and i were the only ones who knew what happened. it was too soon to have healed from it any, but we couldnt exactly be honest about it then either.
and im doing better. im genuinely okay now. and, interestingly, i think i owe it to the past few months of hanging out with him and how ive been able to come to terms with a lot of things about myself. ive been able to show myself compassion. its really ironic.
its a situation where i was desperately trying to throw blame onto myself for, because if i could then i could punish myself for it and use it to fuel that deep rooted self hatred and then i could fix it, because i’d be the one responsible for fixing it. but, and i’ve talked to quite a few friends about it trying to figure out who to confide in about it, everyone who knows about it insists that i cant blame myself for it. theres not a thing about the situation that i can blame myself for. and its so fucking weird, because i cant bring myself to fully blame him for it either, just because it was so ABSURDLY out of character that it doesnt feel like it was anything he could have done to me. it was a boundary that i wasnt ever supposed to worry about him crossing, because he’s just not that kind of person.
and it’s the type of situation that you’re supposed to totally be willing to cut someone off for but...i can’t. he’s genuinely remorseful and i think he doesn’t really know how to deal with it either. and despite it being a massive fuck up its still like...the first fuck up in our friendship from either of us. and i’m willing to see this through. i think it’s salvageable, even if it’ll never be the same as it was. i have faith in our friendship. i think we can make it work.
but no matter what happens. i owe him more than i’ll ever be able to repay him for. and i’ll never, ever be able to hate him because of that. i’m in a much, much better place because of him and for that i’ll always be thankful.
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