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#my thesis had me feeling guilty for working on anything else
mineshaft-birdie · 5 months
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Magic Malfunction
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certainwoman · 13 days
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difficult summer, beautiful ape photos and trying to fight self-destructive thoughts
I switched to an increased dosage of antidepressants at the end of May. It helped me a lot initially in terms of heightened energy levels and desire to focus on my aspirations. Then I got a call to apply for the same job position that I did in March. And then I was called for an interview again. I had no idea why the position was vacant again and as silly and naive I am still to the bureaucratic workings of academia, I imagined I had a real shot at my dream employment again. Well when I was interviewed on July 10th, I remember walking out and sitting on the stairs for a while trying to collect myself as I began to uncontrollably cry. I do not take disappointment well, I do not take stress well and I certainly do not bureaucracy well. As it tends to be, the original vacancy was announced again due to bureaucratic errors in their hiring process. After crying on the stairs, I went to an asian fusion restaurant and cried there too. I also cried because I was sort of struggling with my chopsticks (I am slavic!!! I use chopsticks at home sometimes but I think my fine motor skills have never been particularly strong. I also hold my pencil wrong. I learned there was no shame in holding my chopsticks wrong that day though when I googled it) . Days later, they announced that they hired a different candidate.
My therapist was on her summer vacation, I came back home, I was surrounded by my step father's family and it all added to the stress. I watched incredibly dumb tv shows (crime procedurals are unfortunately one guilty pleasure I do not speak about usually). Despite the meds, unemployment and disappointment of attending one pointless interview only intensified with struggles with depression and debilitating anxiety. When I say my anxiety is debilitating, I truly mean it. Filled with shame, I will admit I spent several years attempting to finish my two master's theses which I thought I would never finish because of classic boring exhausting imposter syndrome, perfectionist thoughts. I annoy myself. I had an incredibly devastating conversation with an ex boyfriend of mine recently and he called me an intense, difficult person. I am an incredibly intense, difficult woman and maybe I should embrace it. I do need to learn how to be a bit kinder to myself. So I did finish my master's program and in December last year, my thesis advisor told me to start working on adapting (shortening it + translating it from one language to another) it into a scientific article so I could add at least one notable publication to my CV (my career aspirations are academic, I am basically not good at anything else). I still haven't done this. Why? The same thoughts I had before. I have no idea why I feel like a fraud half of the time. I have extremely low self esteem. I fall in love with the wrong people and it emotionally shatters me. So summer was wasted. It was also extremely hot and I do not take the heat well.
I started daydreaming about hanging out with apes, gorillas, bonobos, chimpanzees, orangutans, the classics. Their images brought me such peace. It was an extremely romanticized idea that helped me amidst the despair of my every day life. I was just thinking however, even though due to all the difficulties I have faced with mental illness, various painful events throughout these few years, I did major in sociology because I truly love sociology. Even looking at simple cute photos of apes (who let's not forget can be also incredibly aggressive and difficult and intense but not in the same way as me), reminds me of environmental destruction and then I go back to the imperialism and the capitalism. The classics! Also interestingly enough, I never had a wannabe primatologist, biologist, even veterinarian phase when I was a child. I was obsessed with documenting birthdays in excel files and remembering various unimportant numbers and novels. Library was my favourite place. I think I wanted to be a doctor, a fashion designer, psychologist and then a sociologist when I was 16.
Today I decided to focus again on trying to get published. I will try to remember my mom believes in me, my thesis advisor thinks I could get published and also some other people hopefully also believe in me. Will I end up spending the day instead watching incredibly dumb shows and having negative thoughts about my own abilities to ever prosper? Probably! I also think I do not deserve films whenever I mess up and do not fulfil the obligations I have set for myself in my head. I have no idea where this came from? I was not punished as a child, I was just incredibly driven and competitive!
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kyriat-stories · 1 year
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- No-no-no, you are not ugly are you, Eira said with her sweetest voice. How can anyone say you are ugly! Look at that smile! Teteriu! Come and see! She is smiling!
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- Lovely!
- We gave her the right name, didn’t we, she really is the joy of the family, aren’t you Khará? Sometimes I feel a bit guilty for being so happy Teteriu. I can’t help thinking about the pain my sister went through, when she had her firstborn. First of all the terrible reason why she became pregnant in the first place, then having to quit school, the talk in the village behind her back, that was soo untrue and unfair, and she was so young!
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- Mmmm... yeah, these things...
- And our uncle always giving her a hard time about how difficult it was to find a good husband now, and him and auntie constantly fighting about this, and uncle had to sleep outside because Simadhne was so angry with him, and wouldn’t let him come inside.
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- Hmmm... well...
- And when Nashuja was born, she almost couldn’t look at him, and didn’t want to hold him or even try to feed him. It was terrible.
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- Yeah, it, well...
- Of course we all loved and cared for him, especially aunt and uncle, but even Noor in her own way. I think she felt that the best she could do for him was to keep away. But there were so many other caring hands, I don’t think that boy ever missed anything.
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- Hmmm, no he ....
- Uncle Itaja adores him of course and spoils him rotten. He is totally squishy about that boy! I’ve never seen him show tenderness for anything else actually, but he truly loves Nashuja, no doubt about that! And Nashuja loves him too, it’s funny how life takes a turn to the best. It’s like it was meant to be.
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- Well, talking about what was meant to be... Are you going to help me with that thesis for my presentation, or not?
- If you could stop talking, I would!
- What?!
- Just kidding! I’m on it. I’m putting Khará to bed and I will start working on it.
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...
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77pupu33pipo · 1 year
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so sorry feel free to skip, big rant ahead.. but good ending :)
i really hope i can get free university tuition for the next year.. there are two vacant positions atm and i think i have a great chance of getting one.. i enrolled last year with 50% discount based on exam results but this discount is only kept if you stay high enough in student ratings and it kept me awake at night throughout the year and feeling guilty, and the workload was completely draining, and i was physically unwell and um. 0 friends and so i had a complete mental breakdown at the end of the year + a failed class and no year-end thesis which meant i needed an individual plan for the next year which meant no discount AND additional pay for extra courses. Decided to drop out, but instead re-enrolled in the same program for the second time to preserve 50% exam discount which is still appliable. Asked for credit recovery for all of the courses i actually completed last year and bless the faculty office because they agreed and spent this year taking my sweet time recovering and attending uni 3 times a week for language classes and thesis. And funny thing is i did pretty well last year. But complete burn out and absolutely shattered mental health, i really couldnt do it anymore. and i don't think ive recovered from it completely, i now resent the thought of any kind of confrontation or trying hard at something or taking an additional interest in something because that just means more work and thought. none of it pays off. i now give up when met with the smallest inconvenience and pushing through with anything is too much. i played The Sims Fucking 3 University one time and got so anxious and mad because the memory was painful. And i dont even remember the stuff that happened during last year that well at all, its all a complete haze, like it never even happened, but somehow still had its consequences. but like pretty much everyone was going through the same stuff in the same circumstances, but i didnt see anyone else struggling that much so i ended up thinking i am a wimp just wasting our and others' time and money and didnt complain or express my worries to anyone. i didnt exactly have anyone to express them to but well....
on the bright side i think I have succeeded in developing a "fuck-all" mentality in the last year and i hope to utilize it next time i am met with the same workload. Plus my groupmates this year round are amazing. i struggle to form close friendships or acquaintences, but they are all very nice and sweet and supportive of one another, its really nothing ive ever seen of classmates or colleagues. And i also think i have made good progress in learning Finnish and have regained just a bit of my passion for linguistics, i wouldnt want to resent the field forever because if it comes to academics i dont think im suited for anything else. my mother has been nagging me about taking what is essentially a gap year, and saying i was making stuff up when i told her about my decision and that ive been really struggling for the past year, even though i was just wailing at the time. But its alright i guess, i don't take it to close to heart, although it does make me so mad sometimes.
im better off now, but im still so scared of plunging back into all that anxiety, restlessness, exhaustion, competition and feelings of stupidity and inferiority. I have mostly dealt with the last two, but i dont think i will be able to take the stress if it is the same as last year. If i stay on paid tuition, then i have to continue securing my discount. And that means extra work in every subject, because you can't get max and pre-max grade by just completing the course perfectly, you're required to do extra work for the last two marks. I realize and understand that this is a common system, but jesus fucking christ i want to be able to choose not to do so and still continue studying like normal, not be handicapped in learning stuff i actually have to learn in other subjects because of useless shit i need to waste my time on for that sweet sweet 9 or 10. and you're competing both with people like you on paid tuition AND with people on free tuition who have some issues i think as the difference between mark 8 and mark 10 is only seen in the student rating and not recorded in the diploma, and the student rating does not mean jack shit if you're on free tuition, literally no one cares for it outside of calculating discounts and transfering from paid to free tuition. I don't want to think badly of those on free tuition who choose to compete in the system, but i believe i have become too senstitive about this topic. I want to bonk them with a cardboard tube to make them change their minds and see the appeal of being free to fuck all when it comes to grades and just do what they actually enjoy in the academics field or on the side, but that doesnt happen.
and so i have a pretty good chance of getting on free tuition with my current grades. I worked my ass off last year with most of the courses, and i got a "great" on both language classes and thesis this year. As far as i know, im first in rating among those on paid tuition. im sending mind control waves to faculty so that they give me that free tuition. i promise i will get worse grades on purpose so that people who are still stuck in clinging to discount hell have a bit of an easier time. i'll read papers for fun and find joy in learning new things again. i will do minimum wage monotone work needed for dictionaries or corpora like all the cool kids. Fuck it, i will do some afterclass activities now that ill be able to afford to spend my free time on random shit. ill attend historical dance meetings regularly, its really fun. ill make some friends even. just PLEASE give me the free tuition. if i don't, i will sigh deeply and continue trying to grind, but ill be upset.
maybe i need to stop whining and just go on with it like everybody did, but pleaseeeeeee. I think i worked hard. I completed every assignment without taking a look at how much it weighed in the grade formula. I helped fellow students when they struggled with something. I had almost perfect attendance. THIS stupid thing will change my life, stupid thing being free tuition. i cant afford to not get a mind boggling cool education, my family will execute me. Please just let me get my stupid little linguistics degree (i mean it includes programming and maths so.) and go on with my life... ...
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ourtearsricochet · 3 months
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a silly little update of my life
sudden sadness hits me right now. i feel a lot of things at once from self-hatred, feeling like a failure, regretting a lot of things. and i hate my face too..
i feel unlucky in many things, especially academics. all my friends and people my age have already graduated, some even with master's degrees. meanwhile.. i haven't achieved anything in life.. i used to feel pretty smart, but since i started college, i feel dumber? i feel like i was forced to study things i'm not interested in and interact with people whose personalities are unfamiliar to me. i don't know what to blame, so i blame myself.
most of my classmates are about to graduate too. well, i'm happy for them, but when is my turn... it's not like i'm too lazy to finish my thesis, trust me, i've tried my best. it's just that i'm having difficulties in several aspects, and again, who else do i need to blame but myself?
i also have social anxiety. i remember when there was a group project to create an innovative product over one semester and i had no choice but to be with these two guys. one of them said say that our group would be a disaster because they were just two dumb guys and i was just a mediocre. i ended up doing all the work by myself because they were, ugh, useless.
so i'm the type of person who has a bit of difficulty communicating in public, whereas at the end of this project there was some kind of exhibition and we had to present our product. i swear i had already mastered the material and studied for the presentation while completing the project alone, but on that day, these two guys were more fluent in the presentation even though they didn't participate in the project that much. i felt really stupid at that time, especially since one of them once said that i was mediocre. i guess i'm not sad because they said that to me, but i'm sad because what they said was true. i felt so stupid.
we all got A at the end, though.
and i think I'm not enjoying my college years because deep down, i'm feeling jealous of my friends who get to study at the campus that i wanted, in a major they enjoy, the life i want to live in. i feel so out of place, like i don't relate to them. i'm easily offended and sometimes i project my insecurity to people i love. i know it's very annoying, i always feel guilty at the end and i wish i could undo that.
maybe of all my insecurities, this is the most difficult for me because it would cause harm and other things to people i love. i just hope i can accept it all, and things will get better.
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flowery-mess · 7 months
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GIRL IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO AMSWERR
ok but like the exam was... ok? I mean i need 16 right answer to pass so it either that or I failed with 15 right answers lmaoo.
But yeah, I study psychology, which is ironic if you think about the fact that I am in therapy due to anxiety and panic attacks
At one point, my anxiety was so high bc of the exams (the one I ranted about was the laast exam for the semester, I had 6 in total) that my sister was like " girls trip 👀?" - so yeah, now we're in Amsterdam.
But damn girl, the imagine was amaazing. Literally can't.
What about hotel room pt. 2? 👀
Oh let me know the result when you know it! I'm sure you got this!
That's SO cool, I wanted to study psychology too, but lot of people apply to that program in the city I wanted to go and I'm not like super study type, so I knew I wouldn't get in so I didn't even try lol, but I was always interested in working with kids. I tried getting into social work program twice and also didn't get in, but I'm kinda hapoy about that, cause I am so emotional I don't think I could do the real job. What year are you in?
And about your own mental health problems, I think at the other hand it's an advantage? Like you can feel more empathy for others and offer them what works for you. Even if it's getaway trip to Amsterdam, that is also really cool! I hope you have a great time, let me know how you like it😘
Thank you❤️ and Hotel room #2 is in the works, I started writing, but my bachelor thesis is due in like a month and I am not finished with it and I feel guilty writing anything else rn😂 but I promise it will be the first thing I look into after I'm done with the thesis
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losing Rome [IN PROGRESS]
in those days, there was a kind of feeling pushing me into the depths of the internet, from pixeladted photos and tv show recordings to university thesis repository sites and unaccessible film archives. everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close: the ideas I'd had for the studio project the past month had disappeared, my career plan was a dead end and the rent cheque was was killing me a little more each month. it seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer. the only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed, but for now the rest of the term stretched between me and that moment.
it was getting dark and windy outside. the constant white noise of the cars passing by on Schüttelstrasse filtered in through my living room window. laying on the couch I could hear my neighbor screaming as usual. on the other side, cats were meowing through the thin walls. I had no better idea then to start the treasure hunt again.
I found myself scrolling aimlessly through the fifth page of google search results.
______
I scrolled and scrolled, because there was nothing else for me to do, and by degrees the light began to fade. to my surprise, a new keyword led me into virgin territory -- I'd never seen these links before. names of more architects and their portraits, looking into the camera with serenity, black-and-white documentations of their projects, and drawings with lines so neat and bold, almost transcendental. suddenly tired, I stood up. I walked to the other end of the room, feeling like shit, but a sudden brightness caught my attention. it was coming from an image on my laptop, and for a moment I lost my thoughts in its unexpectedcted sharpness. I walked closer and realized I was lookong at a photograph of Rome.
I sat down. clearly, the photograph had been taken around 1977 next to the Basilica di Massenzio, facing Santa Francesca. it was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting in my living room, but the greyscale of the photo had occupied my whole visual field. if I looked hard, I could see the faint shapes on the white screen extending under one of the vaults. there was an enormous, shapeless crowd of spectators in front of the screen among the dimly lit ruins of the Basilica. the reflectors shined a sharp light on the ceiling of the other vault next to the screen. and yes, there were pale stars far off to the East that punctuated the dark summer sky.
______
when I look back at this there’s nothing to grasp, no starting point. I was inside an underexposed photo from 1977 but I was also sitting on the floor of my living room.
strongest of all was the feeling of 1977-ness: dizzy, illogical, as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet. I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back -- to school, the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my fathers's car. all gone, gone forever.
I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn’t bother trying to work out what was going on. I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted, which wasn’t for long anyway: the stars and the film on the screen disappeared as the computer's display dimmed. I got up and walked to the sink to pour myself a glass of fresh water. a bus was rumbling down the Schüttelstrasse outside my window, and I realized I wanted to go out after all.
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princepestilence · 2 years
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NYR: October in review
Post-October horoscope: “what’s meant for you will always feel natural, calm and clear, not forced, chaotic and confused.”
I live in our own house now. So that’s pretty cool. October has been by far the longest month of this year, and it feels like so much happened in only thirty-one days. Here’s some of it:
little holiday with friends -- was really, really great. So relaxing, so joyful. One of them sneaky proposed at another at the first winery, and it was very sweet. Very happy for them. Very happy for all of us, honestly.  
moved house! It was a full on few days of moving and cleaning and I’m only just now recovering from the sheer physicality of carrying so many things up and down stairs, but it’s been absolutely worth it. Still more to go as far as unpacking and set-up, etc., but we’re getting there. 
had a staff photoshoot for the new year at work. Not actually a big deal or anything, but it was validating to know that I’m going to pass my probation in a few weeks and be a full member of the organisation. It’s so nice to have a job I love this much.
saw some cool theatre! On the evening of settlement, we went to the ballet, and then last week we saw the opening night of a neat season show at work, and then were really good friends and watching a friend perform in The Crucible even though it started at 8pm and went for like three hours. (The play was actually good, but still. That’s so late. I’m old).
went to the slam. It’s been a few months since I’ve been, so it was great to go back and be a part of it. New poem went over pretty well. Very timely for Hallowe’en.
got broken up with. So it goes! I make a point of not being interested in people who aren’t interested in me, so that’s really for the best. Would have been preferable to happen sooner, really, but everyone’s got to figure things out in their own time, I guess. 
In November, I will:
finish moving in. That includes getting all the new furniture set up, arranging the nbn, unpacking the boxes, arranging the bookshelves, fixing up the wardrobe situation, start putting art up on the walls, general tinkering and improvements. 
poetry reading. One last month got cancelled for weather, and the other is actually this month in a couple of weeks. A bit nervous since some people way more known than me are probably going to be there doing their poetry, but that’s okay. 
thesis! Working on this chapter got absolutely trampled by the everything else of October, so I’m putting time in this month to get it finished. Then it’ll be the final chapter in December and time off in January. So close to the finish line, I can almost grasp it.
finish out probationary period at work. Five months went so fast. It’s funny how quickly it’s felt like I’ve always been here. A couple of coworkers mentioned it the other day, and I was so delighted that it felt that way for them too.
ttrpg writing & editing. It was just supposed to be editing but I’ve just been asked to write a starter adventure for the game, so that’s the creative goal for November. Needs to be done by the end of this month. 
medical appointment. It’s at least several months overdue at this point and I feel a little guilty because I knew that, but there just wasn’t a convenient time to be told something like, “you’re going to have to stay off your feet” or “we’re going to have to run tests etc. etc.” especially because that tends to get expensive when specialists are involved and, knowing my luck, specialists may in fact be involved, so I kept pushing through and ignoring the signs as much as possible. But regrettably I do have to face it and figure something out because based on the last... couple of years (?) but especially the last twelve months or so, it’s only going to keep deteriorating if I don’t. So I’ve booked the first step and we’ll go from there. 
my birthday! I’m twenty-nine in less than a week and I feel really great about it. Definitely viewing this next year as the designated victory lap of my twenties. 
start thinking about next year’s resolutions. It’s a little way off still, but it’s a good time to consider what the goals and dreams to strive for next year will be. 
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lo-frequency · 3 years
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Hiiii can I request a iida x chubby! Reader w/ some good good fluff please <3
Hello! Here’s that good good fluff you requested, enjoy 💕
Also, this kinda long, just as a warning...I got carried away as usual lol
Iida x Chubby!Reader
-Class 1A was pretty shocked to find out that their high strung class rep had an s/o. Much less someone as charming as you, but aren’t we all full of surprises?
-Yes, he saw your weight, but to him it was just one of your attributes. He didn’t view it negatively, but rather just a part of you.
-He thought it suited you, anyway, and quickly grew fond of your plump self. He began to associate it with all your other good points, so seeing you always lifted his mood, if his enthusiastic greetings were any indication.
-Thought he was slick, but it’s obvious that he tries to pair the two of you together whenever possible. When he gets called out he comes up with the worst excuses. “I-I have a special grouping system. This was the optimum pairing for us!!”
-Often consults/discusses with you for important decisions. Y’all will form a little huddle whenever something goes wrong and (loudly) whisper amongst yourselves before he turns back to everyone else to announce the new plan (as if they couldn’t hear y’all, lol)
-Was awkward about touching you at first, mostly because he wanted to but knew he had ‘impure’ intentions and felt guilty about it. He brushed your hip by accident once and apologized to you for 5 minutes straight, hand motions and all. (He couldn’t stop thinking about it later, tho 😏)
-Being the traditional gentleman he is, he confessed to you through an eloquently written love letter that he spent a whole week perfecting. Wrote a whole thesis on when he realized he liked you, why he liked you, all your good points, and why he’d be an ideal candidate for your boyfriend.
-Willing to win your heart too, if necessary. He understands his feelings may be one-sided, but he’ll work hard to earn your affection!
-Oohh imagine a kiss from Tenya Iida. He only kisses you when there’s absolutely no one around, and he usually goes for your chubby cheeks. For your first kiss, he was a lil nervous but wanted to be chivalrous about it and announced his desire to kiss you...with your permission, of course. It would’ve been perfect had he not bumped your face with his glasses. Afterwards, he just rests his forehead against yours (ooOoOhh Iida 😩)
-His favorite form of affection are hugs so tight your feet nearly lift off the ground. Sometimes he gets too enthusiastic, but he can’t help himself, there’s no better sensation than your softness against him. In moments of excitement, he’ll pull you into a hug and spin you around (again, while you two are in private lol)
-Likes to hold your pudgy hand too, and sometimes presses a kiss to your knuckles if he’s feeling especially sentimental that day.
-Compliments you all the time, he’s vocal about even the most mundane things you do, from how you pack you organize your book bag to what you eat for lunch. “Y/N, you eat an apple with your lunch everyday, you’re so diligent about getting your proper nutrients, I love you!!” Ok, not the last part, but same energy.
-Please praise him back, he’ll be feeling himself for the rest of the day. You said that about him? To Tenya, it’s the highest form of flattery.
-Cheers for you the loudest during training exercises, you can hear him loud and clear all the way from the stands. Gets you fired up every time lol.
-So proud of you, he talks about you to anyone who will listen. You’re his s/o, and you prove to him with each passing day that he has excellent taste.
-Understands how much of a struggle it can be to find clothes, considering his huge calves, so he’s very patient when you two shop together. Though, do be prepared for his opinion on your choice in clothes...even if you didn’t ask for it. He has good intentions tho, he’s just trying to help 🙃.
-Gets flustered when anyone at school mentions your relationship. He tries to remain ‘professional’ in front of his classmates, so he sputters whenever they tease him about you. (So please, hug him in front of the class and watch him fall apart)
-Despite how he acts at school, Iida is more relaxed when it’s just the two of you. He loves having intelligent (or goofy) conversations with you, and he often makes you laugh with his earnest answers to your silly questions.
-Imagine: Initially you two were just talking about hypothetical villain scenarios in his room, but somehow you ended up acting them out and now Iida was chasing you around the room as you scrambled to get away, squealing. “Foolish Y/N! Don’t you know running is futile? There’s no escaping me!” he yells, launching himself over his bed and tackling you to the ground, tickling you as part of his nefarious plans with a triumphant grin on his face at your laughter.
-He didn’t realize how loud he was until he, the class rep, gets a knock on the door and a noise complaint. Tenya is thoroughly mortified, and y’all keep the shenanigans to a minimum afterwards lol.
-Fussy, he will worry over your comfort constantly to the point where it’s a little overbearing. “Y/n, I really do think you should put on some socks, you’ll catch a cold!” “Here darling, put this napkin in your lap so you don’t drop anything on your clothes” “Are you sure you don’t want to rest a little longer? I don’t want your feet to hurt”
-Speaking of aching feet, imagine if Tenya gave you a piggyback ride to rest your sore toes...while using his quirk:
-“Come on Y/N, let’s head back to the car so you can rest,” your boyfriend said, holding your hand and tugging you along in his usual authoritative manner.
-“But Tenya, wouldn’t we get there faster if I just rode on your back?”
-“Hm” he said, holding his chin, “...I suppose you’re right, darling. Well, onto my back, then!” he says, stooping over and beckoning for you to climb on. Once he was sure you were secure (read: clinging onto him for dear life) he took off, faster than expected.
-Way faster than you could’ve ever expected. You’d never experienced speed like this before, and Iida was just warming up. At the sound of your excited whooping, Iida grinned and sped up until you couldn’t discern the trees from the ground anymore. You gave his shoulder a firm squeeze, marveling at your boyfriend’s power.
-Who needs a car when you have this big, strong man to take you wherever you wanna go? 💙
(Writing this made me wanna date Iida myself, sheesh 😩) anyway, thank for tuning in y'all :)
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I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤
SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING
I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).
The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.
Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 
Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 
Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 
I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 
Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 
*Breathes*
Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 
126 notes · View notes
neoculturetravesty · 3 years
Text
We met in online class - Part 3
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Image taken from here.
Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language, drinking Word Count: 5.2k
Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | You are on Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part
A/N: Happy birthday to Huang Renjun, the boy who lights up the world. Sorry for making him so angsty in this fic. Tried something a bit light for him on this occasion.
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You’re embarrassed beyond belief. 
You had expected maybe an awkward moment or two. But the look Renjun is wearing on his face as the two of you exit the restaurant is one that makes you queasy. You feel so bad. The poor boy had tried so hard to make this date special; and you’d done everything you could to make it cumbrous. You tried, you really tried to act naturally. But, everything about tonight had made your words get caught in your throat. The fact that he’d chosen your uncle’s restaurant of all places… the fact that he had prepared all that he had… the fact that he looked the way he looked tonight. All of it had you taken aback because you’d never been on a date this nice before. This boy had really put you off your A game.
Still, you didn’t like seeing him wear this expression. You weren’t sure what part had irritated him the most: that you kept fumbling over your words? He’d usually been kind and patient with you, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe his pride had been hurt by how it had ended? Renjun didn’t come across to you as a spiteful person but he had made so much effort on this date. Oh man, maybe he was angry. 
To be fair, the poor boy hadn’t said anything since you’d left the table. Perhaps it was in what he didn’t say that you felt most embarrassed. You feel so terribly guilty, but walking out into the fresh air helps you get your act together. You stride ahead and grab his arm. You two needed a moment. 
“Renjun, wait. I… I need to explain myself.” you begin but gauge his reaction first.
He turns to you and you can’t read the expression on his mask covered face. He doesn’t say anything, so he’s probably letting you talk. Whilst you can’t read him, you pull your own mask down so he would see you fully and understand what you mean.
“Renjun, I’m so sorry. When you texted the address, I thought about telling you to choose another restaurant. But I didn’t want you to think I was blowing you off or having second thoughts. I just… oh my God, I am so embarrassed and I just…” you take his hand in both of yours because you really want him to feel the sincerity in your words “... I’m so sorry. I just went along because I was really excited to see you… like this… on a date…” 
Renjun is looking at the ground, like he’s weighing your words, or thinking about what to say. You wait for a beat, or two or three. But on the fourth beat, you say,
“Tell you what, this date doesn’t have to end like this. I know you didn’t eat at all, and honestly, neither did I. My apartment is just around the corner. Do you maybe wanna come over for some ramyeon?” you look at him, your eyes hopeful. You really don’t want him to be mad at you. Your stomach feels uneasy, and you’re pretty sure the French food had nothing to do with it. 
“What, no condoms this time?” he finally looks up to ask and now, his eyes are smiling. 
“Huh?” you begin but then your eyes widen as realization hits and suddenly, you’re much too aware of his hand in both of yours. You drop it right away and you’re blushing intensely when you say “No, no condoms this time. I mean actual ramyeon.” you cover your face with your hands because yes, you’re embarrassed, but also, you’re grinning because Renjun is teasing you again and you prefer it way more than his silence. 
You hear the sound of his amused laugh and then feel his hands close around both your wrists, gently pulling them down. “I’d like that. Let’s have that ramyeon.” he says with a kind voice.
You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath till you let it out and give him a relieved smile.
“Great! I’m actually really good at making ramyeon. Don’t be too surprised when all other ramyeons are ruined for you forever.” you say just as the valet brings your car around.
“Honestly, Y/N L/N, after our French cuisine extravaganza, I’m pretty sure I’d thankfully eat sand if you cook it for me well enough.”
You laugh because you’re happy he’s talking again. You get the sudden urge to hug him, because you’re thankful he’s giving this date a second chance. You don’t, though. You’re not sure how he’d react and you didn’t want to ruin the moment when it had only just turned around.
So you choose to hop in the car instead, waiting from him to get in and put his seatbelt on. You pause for a moment after he’s settled in and then you turn to him.
“I, uh… I didn’t bring condoms on that day because like, uh, I was expecting anything or whatever. I just, um, my… my roommate. She put it in my purse as like a joke.” you feel so stupid having to explain it but you feel like you need to because ugh, ugh, ugh. 
Renjun is laughing silently and you get the feeling that this time he’s laughing at you. 
“I mean, it was pretty forward for a first date. And you know, I’m not that kinda guy.” He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, still laughing. 
“Ughhh.” you bury your face into the steering wheel but it only makes your head honk the horn, which makes you jump. 
“Hey…” Renjun reaches out his arm to touch your shoulder and you turn to peak at him, an embarrassed grin on your face. “I’m only kidding. But yes, the quality of my jokes is really going down because now I’m fully starving.”
“Say no more, Huang Renjun.” you say and put the car into drive.
It’s only a five-minute ride and you’re glad for it, because you really, really want to turn this day around. You just couldn’t have your first proper date end on such a sour note. You pull into your building’s garage and silently hope that you had everything you needed to make the perfect ramyeon. With Yeri stress-eating her way to her thesis, your stock would run out way earlier than either of you expected. If that were the case, you would have to very sneakily order some in; you mentally start to calculate how long it would take the grocery app to get you your stuff, given the time of day.
In your planning, you haven’t noticed that the two of you are already in the elevator and it’s Renjun’s voice that brings you back to Earth.
“You live in the penthouse?” he asks.
“Yeah. It was the only place they had available at that time. Super inconvenient. It was hell trying to move all our stuff all the way to the top.” you try to make small talk because the elevator seems to be going on and on. Why did you have to live so far up top? 
“Okay, here we are!” you say as you lead Renjun down the hallway and unlock your door. “Um… do you mind if I like… spray you down? My roommate is kinda really particular about having people in the apartment these days…” you ask apologetically.
“Oh, no, absolutely. Do what you have to do.” Renjun says, a bit absentmindedly. His eyes seem to be going past you and towards your living room. You pray to the heavens that it wasn’t a big mess. You had modelled way too many outfits for Yeri before you had left the house.
“Okay, here you go.” you hand Renjun a pair of lounge shoes as he pulls his mask down. “Close your eyes, please. Yeri made this concoction with Lysol and sanitizer and God knows what else.”
Renjun closes his eyes obediently and stands in a T-pose and you can’t help but smile. By the time you’re spraying him, you’re fully giggling. 
He giggles back and peaks with one eye open “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. You’re just. You look so cute, Huang Renjun!” you almost squeal and fuck, you can’t stop giggling.
“Heyyy!” he groans and grabs the spray bottle from you and aims it at you. You shield your face with the backs of your hands while Renjun attacks you. “I’m not cute, okay? You’re the one that’s cute.”
“Okay, that’s enough! I think I’m as sanitized as I will ever be.” you squeal and start to move away but Renjun grabs your waist and sprays you some more. He’s basically drenching you to death, and it’s just as well, because your breath has once again been caught in your throat. He is close to you, too close. Suddenly, your heart is thumping in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.
He notices your stillness, looks at you and pauses. Like he can feel the electricity in the air. Everything stills and your throat is dry, because your freaking breath won’t let out. You think you’ve forgotten to breathe; almost as if the Lysol is creeping down your airways. He’s holding your gaze and you can swear he’s moving closer. But your stupid throat won’t stop bothering you.
All of a sudden, your head turns out of it’s own accord and you’re clearing your throat into the abyss. Renjun straightens up, his hand leaving your waist. Dammit. Maybe it was all that damn Lysol that was choking you, after all. 
“Let’s make that ramyeon.” you choke out, turning your back to him and heading in.
“Yep, ramyeon. Lets.” Renjun nods his head like you’ve said the most logical thing in the world. The two of you pretend like nothing even happened.
You lead him into the kitchen. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got soda, beer, soju.” you say as you open your fridge and do a quick inventory.
“I’ll just have a coke.” Renjun says and you nod. You grab a couple of cans and your ice box and set it down for him on the island. 
“Have a seat because what you’re about to witness is pure magic.” you tell him as you grab your apron and suit up to impress the boy in front of you. Renjun runs his fingers through his hair and gives you an expectant smile and your brain choses that exact moment to tell you that your crush is at your place. For the very first time. And the two of you are all alone. You turn around before he can see you blush and you get to work.
“Those are big words, Y/N L/N. I hope you won’t be eating them. I’d much rather have you eat the ramyeon with me.” he snarks as he sits on the barstool on the kitchen island, sipping on his coke. 
“Oh, I just love the cynics of my cooking. There aren’t many of them left in this world, so it’s nice to meet the survivors.” You mean business, so you’ve already tied up your hair and laid down your pots and pans. All the time you’ve spent watching Masterchef auditions has prepared you for this moment. You’ve put the noodles to boil and are already heating up a sauté pan. You throw in mushrooms and look up to see Renjun studying you in amusement.
“Damn, you’re not playing around.” Renjun says and you could bet money that he almost sounds impressed. “Hey, be careful with that.” his tone is one of worry now as he watches you chop up some more vegetables.
“I’m always careful, Huang Renjun.” you say as you work the chef’s knife across the bok choy, peppers, ginger and tofu. You throw them in the pan one by one, trying not to be too distracted by the fact that your crush was worried about you. “Can you handle a bit of heat?” you hold up the spicy sauce that Yeri’s mom would always bring for you. 
“I can handle it.” he cocks an eyebrow and you grin.
“I’ll keep it mild because I don’t wanna take any more food risks today.” you laugh and add some broth to your noodles.
“That’s fair. It smells amazing already so my expectations have really skyrocketed, by the way.” Renjun tells you, licking his lips. 
You grin as you set down two bowls. If the boy didn’t like you after this, then he was probably a really tough cookie to crack. “Honey, you’ve got a big storm comin’.” You mimic as you ladle in the broth over the noodles and start arranging your vegetables in the bowls. You slice your boiled eggs and mutter “Success!” as they come out to be the exact texture you were looking for. You top everything with some sesame oil and sesame seeds. You step back to look at your work. It looked like the most Instagramable bowl of noodles you’d ever created, if you said so yourself. 
You lay some side dishes on the counter then proudly set your creation before the artist. If anyone knew how to appreciate aesthetics, it was probably him. You look up at him, expectant. Waiting for your result.
“Whoa.” is all he says, almost like he’s taken aback.
“I think this might be my magnum opus.” you say, nodding seriously as you sit on the barstool next to him.
“This looks like it came straight from an anime.” Renjun makes an impressed face and picks up his chopsticks. He takes a bite and for a moment says nothing. “Oh my God.” he turns to you.
“Oh my God?” 
“Y/N L/N. You’re gonna have to marry me now. There is no other way around it.” he says deadpan.
You grin and punch the air with both fists like you’ve won a Michelin star, not just the Masterchef audition. “Huang Renjun, I don’t mess about with ramyeon.” You say and begin to eat. Your eyes close as you let out a satisfied moan because yep--you’ve really done well. To be fair, there was a lot riding on it. You had to perform well today, of all days.
You both eat comfortably and deeply, a striking contrast to how you’d eaten at the French restaurant. Renjun gives you more compliments as he eats and you keep grinning like an idiot, heart exploding with joy. At one point, you have to tell yourself to chill out, to not let a boy’s compliments make you feel so validated. But how could you not be on cloud nine when the boy in question is cute as fuck and you’ve just cooked for him for the very first time? So you just smile wide at him and hope he can’t see the hearts in your eyes or the victory in your attitude that you’ve really managed to turn this around. All the awkwardness from earlier seemed to have evaporated. 
“Okay, Y/N L/N. You were right. This is the best ramyeon I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.” he admits and you’re way too happy to see that he’s basically licked his bowl clean. 
“Oh man, Huang Renjun. I thought you were a survivor. But here you are, another cynic that I’ve managed to convert.” you say proudly.
“Yes. Here I am.” he smiles at you. 
And there it is again. The electricity in the air. Because Renjun is holding your gaze and once again, you become much too aware of his proximity. Were your bar stools always this close? Maybe you had to talk to Yeri about remodeling this area. You’re turning toward him and he’s sliding off the stool, his eyes never leaving yours. He comes closer and your heart thumps against your ribcage again. Your mind is clouded by his perfume because he’s so close that your hands find home on his shoulders. You forget to think for a moment; your blood throbbing hot in your ears as he leans in.
“I’m hooome!” 
The two of you jump, your heads turning in the direction of the loud voice. You turn back to look at each other, then you jump away from one another, almost as if the spell has been broken and you’ve realized how close you were and how dumb an idea this was. 
You lament your luck. You can’t believe you’ve been cockblocked out of your first kiss with Renjun by your stupid roommate. 
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It was almost a week later that you heard from Renjun again. Not that you hadn’t really talked in between. If sending one another memes over Instagram counted as meaningful communication, then yes, you’d been in contact. But then a couple of days ago, he had texted you more than a full sentence:
“Hey! Remember the 127 party Donghyuck (Haechan) talked about? It’s this Friday. Do you maybe wanna go with me? If you don’t want to hang out with frat boys on your Friday night, I totally understand! We could hang out some other time.”
Sometimes, you really wondered if you had any sort of an inkling of pride within you at all, because you didn’t even wait another second to reply:
“You know I wouldn’t miss a single chance to hang out with Haechan. Text me the address and I’ll be there! (Also, what sort of a party is this? I don’t want to be underdressed like last time hehe.)”
Turned out the 127s were hosting some sort of an outdoor Sports Day, except with drinks a plenty so everyone would be knackered as they played. The setup reminded you of every ill-fated Sports Days you’d ever been to at school, except with a lot more booze than you remembered. The two of you had barely walked into the grounds when Haechan jumped in to greet you with the same unrestrained energy.
“My friends! The Coronial lovers! Mr. Huang Renjun!” Haechan had leaned in to kiss Renjun on the cheek but he had really skillfully dodged it, like he had predicted what he would do. “Ms. Y/N L/N.” your reflexes hadn’t been quite as quick as Renjun’s because you had ended up with a mask covered smooth on your cheek. It made you cringe and laugh at the same time. Haechan had very animatedly told you of all the games they had planned for today and had pushed you in, forcing you to mingle with the rest of the crowd. 
Renjun was currently being swarmed by the group of rowdy boys and you were watching with an amused expression on your face.
“Embarrassing. Some people should just not be let out in public.” you hear a voice just above your shoulder. You turn around and chuckle.
“Hendery. Didn’t think you were the kind to kick it with the 127s.” you chuckle.
“Neither did I. They’re cool I guess. I like Haechan. More people need to be as shameless as him.” he comments, knitting his brows together.
You smile wide. “I like him, too. He really keeps everyone together, doesn’t he?” you muse as you watch the boy work the room (or playground), currently attacking everyone with more cheek kisses. “Hey, who’s that boy over there? The one in the blue-ish shirt?” 
“That’s Kim Jungwoo. He graduated a couple of years ago but he keeps coming to these parties.” Hendery says, scrunching his nose.
You laugh and then let out a long sigh. “I don’t blame him. When I start thinking about life after graduation, it makes me want to fail my courses just so I could repeat them. The future is scary.”
He nods knowingly, then says, “Hey, speaking of which. I heard we’re going to be partners in the SMK Trainee Drive.” 
Suddenly, you feel your belly do a summersault. Whenever your college hosted a recruitment drive, SMK was always the hardest to get in, especially for business majors. Not only was it super competitive, but people dreamed of getting chosen because it almost always guaranteed a job once you had graduated. 
You blow air from your mouth and square your shoulders. “Wong Hendery. Let’s show them how it’s done.” you hold your hand up to give him a high five but he grips your fist with his and puts his game face on.
“We’re going to crush the competition.” He declares and you feel reassured. You felt way more driven with a partner than working solo, anyway.
“Hendery, don’t waste all your arm energy now, save it for the wrestling match!” Haechan interrupts, thumping him on the back. “Go find your team, we’re about to start! 00 liners, this way!” he says, throwing an arm around you and walking to your team. You look over your shoulder and give Hendery a thumbs up. 
You join the 00 liners and look at Renjun amongst them. He looks the most uninhibited you’ve ever seen him. He’s smiling without concern and seems to be enjoying himself. You get the feeling that he’s surrounded by friends he trusts and it fills you with warmth. That boy deserved the world as far as you were concerned. 
“Okay, team. Here we are. The moment of truth. We can sit around like a bunch of shmucks or we can leave this ground knowing that we owned this fucking school! So what are we gonna do?” he yells like a sports coach.
“We’re gonna stop being embarrassing.” Lee Jeno gives Haechan a death smile and Haechan thumps his chest.
“That’s right brother! Okay, first order of business. Everybody take a shot! No one enters the battlefield sober!” He gives his commander’s speech and passes around bottles of something. You’re not sure what it is but it smells strong. 
“Down on 3. 1, 2, 3!” he yells and without thinking, you down whatever you’d been handed. You groan out as it hits and look up to realize that your groans are harmonizing with the others. 
“Ohhhh yes! Now we’re ready! Okay, second order of business. We need an entrance song. I was thinking, Girl’s Generation…” Haechan goes on and you see that it has made Renjun laugh. You laugh along as Haechan makes the team learn the cheesiest dance moves. A boy in a headband you’ve never met seems to be fully into it; a few girls seem to be tagging along amused. Na Jaemin looks like he’s humoring his friends at best.
“Okay! Let’s get ittttt!” Haechan drags the last part and leads the charge towards the center of the ground for an arm wrestling battle. There is excitement in the air now, and you have a feeling that it has less to do with the match itself and more to do with whatever liquid courage Haechan had injected in everybody’s veins. You find yourself walking at pace with Na Jaemin.
“You doing alright there, buddy?” you ask him because the poor boy looks like he was once again dragged out here.
He gives you a kind smile “Yep. I’m all good.”
“Not really your scene, huh?” you ask empathetically.
“I mean, I’d much rather stay indoors but Jeno said I needed some fresh air. Renjun was going to stay in with me but he betrayed me last minute by deciding to be social.” He notes, throwing some kind of a look your way.
You give him an apologetic grimace. “Oh man, I’m sorry for ruining your plans. But where’s your girlfriend? Why didn’t you invite her?” 
“She’s quarantining.” he tells you patiently.
“Oh no! Is she okay?” you look at him, almost stopping in your tracks.
“She says she’s mostly all the way okay now, though she still doesn’t have her sense of smell back. But I guess any day now.” he nods, looking ahead.
You look at this profile and your heart goes out to him. “Hey, I know of a place that’s making these really cute care packages for people that have been affected. They’ve got a super safe system of delivery as well. I can hook you up if you like. They’ve got the cutest things for you to choose from.” 
He looks at you and gives you a genuine smile. “That would be great. She’s probably tired of all the soup I’ve been leaving at her doorstep.”
You give him a fond look. “Okay, cool. I’ll help you put it together and everything.”
“Thanks, Y/N.” he says before you are interrupted by a loud cheer because the first match has begun and it’s between the boy with the headband and someone else you don’t recognize. The match doesn’t last a full two seconds before the boy with the headband is defeated. Haechan plays up looking crestfallen and “lunges” at the opponent but is playfully stopped by Renjun and the defeated boy. You throw your head back and laugh out loud. You were maybe enjoying these dramatic antics a little too much, but also, it was nice to see Renjun letting loose like that.
Haechan is up next and is defeated just as quickly and you soon realize your team stood no chance. A couple more boys from your team go next and it’s a bloodbath. No matter how much you cheer your teammates on, they’re dropping like flies. By the time Na Jaemin walks up to the stand, you’ve all pretty much accepted your fate. 
But then. Jaemin’s arm slowly starts crossing over the midline and then the 00 liners are on their toes jumping up and down, cheering on top of their lungs and before you know it, Jaemin has earned you guys your first victory.
“Go Nana!” you hear people scream followed by a chanting of “Superstar! Superstar!” 
You cheer along and watch as Jaemin-the-dark-horse defeats two more opponents in a row. And when he earns yet another victory, the 00 liners are going berserk, with Haechan yelling “Victory shots!” making you guys chug down whatever drinks you’re holding. But that becomes your undoing because Jaemin finally loses to Lee Mark, a senior boy.
A few girls from each team have their go and there’s an uproar when it’s pointed out that the boys were letting them win. It’s a loud, drunken commotion now and you don’t realize it is Rejun’s turn till Haechan points it out for you and much to your amusement, he’s up against Hendery.
“Go Renjun! I believe in you!” you cheer at him as he takes his place.
“Go Injuniee!” Haechan yells and you all watch for a moment with bated breath; but as soon as the match begins, you’re all doubling over, laughing. Renjun is no match for Hendery and he knows it, which is why he’s taken the opportunity to turn this into a comedy show. You laugh as Renjun hangs onto Hendery’s arm and wiggles his legs animatedly. But Hendery holds his ground well and let’s Renjun put on a show for everyone before he puts some girth in his hold and flattens Renjun out in one. Renjun walks back defeated and you welcome him back just as dramatically, like he’s a soldier returning from war.
“You did well, Injunie.” you put an arm around him and tell him and he grins at you before he is swarmed by the rest of your team. Your opponents are declared the winners but you guys do your Girl’s Generation dance anyway and take more victory shots.
You guys have no idea how you make it through the rest of the day because by the time you’re on your last game (a strange relay race that involves complicated costumes and eating donuts hanging from strings), you’re stumbling and being rowdier than usual. You’re yelling at one another, trying to get Yangyang (as you’ve learnt is the name of the boy in the headband) in his many legged costume but it is more complicated than usual because none of you are in your right mind. You, in fact, don’t remember the last time you got this drunk... Yeri would be proud. 
There is more commotion and many more arguments over what the actual finish line is, because by the end, even the self-appointed referees are knackered beyond belief. You don’t know how it happens but all of a sudden, Kim Jungwoo has been declared the winner of tonight, though all the games you played were in teams. But this funny result is agreeable to everyone because Jungwoo is being tossed in the air and being presented with a mini beer keg. Turns out, there wasn’t much that college students wouldn’t celebrate... if you’d put enough drink in them.
You find yourself jumping up and down along with the rest and you don’t realize that you’ve stumbled till Renjun catches you and you’re smiling at him so widely. You’re pretty sure your face is flushed a bright, drunk color because Renjun is looking down at you with an amused smile.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You alright there?” he asks and you loop your arms around his neck till you’re basically hanging onto him.
“I’m having the best time ever, Injunie.” you tell him but your words are coming out all sloshed so you try to make yourself clear. “Best time. Best time. Why does it sound so funny in my mouth? Best time. Best time.”
Renjun raises his eyebrows but his smile keeps growing. “Okay, time to take you home.”
“Nooo, Injunie, but Haechan was going to show me how to make his death cocktail and I have to help Jaemin make a package for his girlfriend and I’ve made a new friend and her name is Lia and I can’t leave now!” you whine at him, grabbing a fistfull of his hoodie. Damn, why do your words keep sloshing around in your mouth like that?
Renjun loops an arm around your back and starts walking you “Okay, you can just take a quick nap at home and then when you come back you can do all of those things, okay?”
You consider his words and realize that your eyes were droopier than usual. “You’re a genius, Huang Renjun. I guess I could take a little, itsy bitsy nap.”
The next thing you know, you’re in the back of a cab, your head resting on Renjun’s shoulder. He feels so nice and warm and you feel so damn comfortable. You cuddle closer to him and turn your head to look at him just a bit. “I’ve got such a bad crush on you, Huang Renjun.” you tell him and you see his head snap in the direction of your voice and you want to keep talking to him but your eyes are closing again. 
When you wake up in the morning, you have no recollection of how you got back home but Yeri’s making you her hangover tea and telling you how proud of you she was.
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grittyreadsfic · 3 years
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hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.
now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!
so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers
i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.
therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around
manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding
jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood
catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it
hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention
canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing
and now, for the fic recs!
to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles
summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.
why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other
last ones standing by makeit_takeit
summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.
At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.
“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”
He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.
Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.
why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally
motivation by connectknee
summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.
why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication
a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre
summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.
why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish
meet me at my window by springsteen
summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.
(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)
why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic
body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents
summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”
Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.
“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”
What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.
why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling
rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers
summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.
TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."
"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.
Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.
why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics
in the dark of any town by mengetpegged
summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.
“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.
“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”
(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)
why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched
lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping
summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.
But he does feel guilty about it.
or
TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.
why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)
you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide
summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”
“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.
Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”
+++
OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.
why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)
you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne
summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.
The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.
“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”
why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish
thrills and grills by bitter_leaf
summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.
__
Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.
why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!
nothing but room for you by fightingfuries
summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.
Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.
why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way
a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal
summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.
why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*
all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor
summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!
It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.
Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.
Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.
why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion
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plenaurum · 3 years
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What Love Is: Pt 2/2
Might be an epilogue after this. I just wanted to get this out. Sorry it’s so long. Antoine Dawson. Word count: 3k. Part 1 here. Enjoy! Feedback appreciated but not required.
It has been over a week since she cut him loose. Throughout the week, she has had to dodge phone calls, FaceTime requests, text messages, direct messages, even comments under her Instagram posts from Antoine.
Funny how he gives a damn now.
Refusing to entertain him any longer, she avoided reading any of his messages, cutting her eyes away from words like “Y/N, I’m so—”, “I love—“, “Please can we ta—“, before she could get too far and let him pull her in too deep. Again.
So she blocked him. On everything. She unmatched him on Lovelink, blocked his phone number, his e-mail, all of his socials, even going as far as to private her social media accounts. She didn’t want to give him any wiggle room to slide back into her life.
And she refused to let the pain of having to let him go, of not being able to talk to him again, to see his face again, to hear his voice affectionately call her name in a way only he can, get in the way of her anger. Because she is angry. And heartbroken.
She would weather any internal storm if it meant not having to go through heartbreak like that again.
So she persisted.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be ok?” Jake asks.
They have just finished up a movie night with their friends Grace and Jasmin. They insisted that they have one because “you can’t spend your life wallowing over a fucker that couldn’t appreciate a bad bitch when he had one,” Jasmin said.
They’ve been pretty damn upset with Antoine, and make their disdain known whenever his name is brought up. Jasmin especially.
“This too shall pass,” Grace said ominously, curled up on the floor with a cup of toffee ice-cream.
“Is that Shakespear?” Jasmin looked over at her curiously, licking the remnants of the popcorn from her fingertips.
“It’s from the Bible!” Jake exclaimed. He was sitting on the floor next to Y/N’s legs, head leaning against her lap like a cat. Y/N let out a chuckle, a grin pulling at her lips as appreciation for her friends welled up in her chest.
It’s been about 20 minutes since Grace and Jasmin took off, Grace having to work on her thesis and Jasmin having a meeting with her model agency in the morning. They each departed with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. Jake stayed behind, however.
“I’ll be fine, Jake.” Shaking off the memory, Y/N gathers the rest of the dishes into the sink. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
Jake leans against the counter next to her, a friendly warmth radiating from him. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your friend, Y/N.” He begins to help her with the dishes, their arms occasionally brushing against each other as they move in-sync. Y/N felt a rush of affection at him for being so kind.
Jake. Always such a softy.
“Besides, I don’t have my date for another hour, so I don’t have to leave just yet.” Jake turns his head and quirks a smile at her, eyebrows dancing playfully. “I could always kick your ass in another round of Uno.”
Y/N can’t help but laugh. “You know damn well it’ll be the other way around, Romeo.” Jake shrugs, a triumphant grin still on his face. He doesn’t really care about winning so much as he does about making that sad look on her face go away.
“Besides, shouldn’t you be preparing for your Juliet?” She says teasingly.
Putting away the last dish, Jake avoids her eyes, a blush dancing on his cheeks. “They’re not Juliet. They’re just helping me film.” He mutters.
Another giggle bursts out of her chest. “You mean they’re not Juliet yet.” He rolls his eyes, a bashful grin breaking through.
“How is it going with them by the way?” She asks.
He perks up adoringly, jumps to sit on top of the counter, eyes shining. “It’s going so well!” He says excitedly. He goes on to talk about the person he met from Lovelink, ironically the same site that she met Antoine on. She listens to him talk, feeling the heaviness from her chest lighten up a little at how happy he is, how utterly smitten he is.
At least one of them can have their happy ending. She smiles softly, a little sad. “I’m really happy for you Jake.” She says sincerely. “You deserve this.”
He stops talking and just looks at her, a soft look on his face at her tone. “You deserve it too, you know.” She just smiles at him, a faraway look in her eyes.
“I’ll get there eventually.” She affirms. He slides off the counter and pulls her into his arms. She didn’t know how much she needed a hug until now. Burying her face into his neck, she sighs, the heaviness in her chest lifts significantly.
“I know you will,” He whispers.
They stay like that for a few moments until they hear a knock at the door. They pull away from each other, looking at it quizzically. “Are you expecting anyone?” He asks.
“No. It was just you guys.” Besides, it’s almost 9pm. There’s another knock at the door, this one more persistent. Jake furrows his brow. “Are you gonna get it or should I?”
“No, I got it.”
Letting go of his hand, she goes for the door, and opens it without even looking through the keyhole, curiosity getting the better of her. “What can I do fo--” Her eyes lock with Antoine’s icy blues.
An icy feeling shoots it’s way through her body. She’s frozen, staring at him, heart beating out of her chest. She can’t breathe.
Then she feels a presence at her back and Jake’s hand on her shoulder. She lets the warmth of his hand spread through her body, soothing her. He knows who it is, if the pictures are anything to go by.
She watches Antoine’s eyes shoot to where Jake is touching her.
Everybody’s frozen, waiting for someone to make the first move. Then Antoine clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “Um,” he stammers, face reddening. “Is this a bad time?”
Jake stiffens, face hardening a bit. He shoots a look at Y/N, who turns around to look at him. They seem to have a silent conversation, his eyes saying are you sure about this? To which she replies I’ll be fine. I got this. He nods.
“No. I’ll see you later Y/N,” She hears him say, still staring at Antoine. He meets her eyes, his own unreadable. She nods at Jake, turning to give him a weak smile. He returns it, then parts with a quick peck on her cheek. He shoots a sly look at Antoine, and says, “See ya.” Then, brushing past Antoine’s tense body, he’s off.
Taking a deep calming breath, she pulls herself together enough to say “Do you wanna come in?” He gives her a smile and nods. Stepping aside, she lets him in, making sure to press herself against the open door to prevent any contact between them.
Closing the door, she turns to look at him to see that his eyes have been on her the entire time, seemingly drinking her in. Ignoring the tingles that spread through her body, she crosses her arms and fixes him with a hard look.
“What are you doing here, Antoine?” She thought he was in Nepal. Probably chasing some baby animal and getting himself stuck in a cave, she thinks bitterly.
“I wanted to see you,” he replies. Giving her another once over, he smiles softly at her. “How are you? How have you been?”
“Fine. Good.” She says sharply, ignoring his flinch. “What do you need?” She repeats.
Hands shoved into his pockets, biting his lip, he looks toward his feet, obviously unsure. “I deserve that,” he mutters to himself.
Deciding to cut him some slack and be a good host to an otherwise unwelcome guest, she clenches her jaw and bites out “Do you want a drink?”
His shoulders fall away from his ears, hope all over his face. “Please.”
She says nothing else and instead, giving him a wide berth, walks to the kitchen. It must be obvious that she wants her space, because Antoine keeps a careful distance between them, following her lead. He doesn’t want to set her off and kick him out when he misses her so much.
Yanking out two glasses, she pours a glass of one for each of them, ignoring his watchful eyes, filling her own cup to the brim. She passes the other to Antoine, his fingers brushing against hers when he takes it, almost as if he can’t help himself. She yanks her hand back and takes a long sip.
She decides to take a seat. No use being uncomfortable in your own damn house. She fixes him with another hard look and says: “Sit down.” He obeys, taking the seat across from her at the counter. He hasn’t taken a sip of his drink yet.
A few moments pass in tense silence. She has a lot of questions for him that she refuses to ask out loud, like Why did you insist on keeping me around if you were just gonna keep running from me? Was I not enough for you? Why would you say one thing and then do the complete opposite? Why? Why? Why? But she won’t ask. She’s done looking weak, being weak for him.
She feels him staring at her. Looking toward the ceiling to keep the tears at bay, she takes another long sip of her wine, reveling in the warmth settling in her belly.
“Why are you here, Antoine?” She asks again quietly, looking down at her drink.
“Who was that?” He blurts out instead of answering the question. He looks almost guilty, like he knows he should’ve kept to himself.
“Who was who?” She says cooly.
“That—that guy. Is he—? Are you—?” He’s stammering, tongue not cooperating with him.
She looks at him incredulously. Is he serious?
She’s silent for a moment, wanting to be petty and reply with what’s it to you? We’re not together anymore! I’m not even sure if we were together at all! But instead, allowing herself a moment of weakness and not being able to bear the pain of him thinking that she’s moved on so fast, she just says: “That’s Jake. Remember?” She’s told him about her friends at the beginning stages of their relationship, making it clear that while she and Jake are really close, they’ve never thought about one another that way. Besides, they’re both in love with other people.
The relief he feels is painfully obvious. “Oh.” He says dumbly. “Oh.” He repeats to himself. He lets out a breath, as if he’s been holding it in anticipation of her answer.
She doesn’t say anything back.
He tries to catch her eye again. “Listen, I want to tell you something.” She cuts her eyes back to him. “And I know I’m not in a position to be making any demands right now, but I just need about five minutes, okay? Then I’ll go, no problem.” His eyes are wide, almost pleading for her to listen.
She grinds her teeth, wanting to be difficult, but also wanting all of this to be over already even more. She nods once. He sighs again, nodding to himself.
“I’m sorry.” He says softly. She tries not to scoff, head shaking tiredly. He stays strong, however.
He sets his glass down and leans closer, all of his focus on her as if she’ll disappear at any moment. “I’ve been stupid. And selfish. And an asshole.” He sounds angry with himself. Well, no shit. Good on you for realizing. I guess. She takes another gulp of her wine in response.
“Y/N, I turned it down.” She almost chokes. He shoots up and would have ran to her side if she didn’t put a hand up to let him know that she’s ok.
He sits back down gingerly, still gazing at her worriedly. “And I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t turn it down just to get you back. I mean—it’s part of it. But it’s not the only reason.”
“I love my job. I love what I do. I love being able to see all of these new places, to have all of these new experiences. I do.” Unshed tears well up in his eyes. “But I realized—none of it matters if I don’t have you.” Screwing up her face, she shakes her head in disbelief, trying to stop the tears from falling.
“No. No—”
He shoots up and speeds around the counter to kneel down next to her, looking up at her and taking her hand.
“Please listen.” He goes on further. “When you left me, I was angry at first. Frustrated. But it was with myself for—for hurting you so much. For being so selfish and not seeing what I was doing.”
“I’ve been running from my problems, Y/N. I felt like if I didn’t keep moving, that I’d—I’d spiral. What happened with my grandpa in Alaska really shook me to my core. And I noticed that whenever problems arise, I run away. I avoid them.”
“But at the same time, I met you, and I knew that I wanted you in my life. That you’d be it for me. You are it for me.” His voice shakes, but he runs a thumb over her knuckles, eyes roaming her face reverently. “I want a life with you. I do. More than anything, I want you.”
Her heart slams against her chest.
He sighs. “And I didn’t want to admit it but, that scared the shit outta me.” He sniffs, tightening his hand around hers. “I knew that one look at you and it was over. That I wouldn’t be able to run anymore.”
“Is that why you were so adamant about leaving?” She asks weakly.
He shuts his eyes, squeezing them tight. “Yeah. I—I didn’t know how to deal, Y/N. I wanted to run as far as possible, to keep going and to keep focusing on my career so that I didn’t have to.” He opens his eyes again, tears falling down his cheeks. “That’s why it was so hard for me to fly you out to see me in Columbia.”
“I thought you just didn’t want to see me.” She utters.
He shakes his head frantically, squeezing her hand so tightly it almost hurts. “No. I wanted to see you. More than anything.”
She tries to pull her hand away. “You’re confusing me, Antoine. That was the problem—”
“—Wait! Wait! Please!” He goes for her hand again, and she lets him, though she keeps her grip loose.
“I wanted to see you. But I was genuinely concerned for your safety. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He grimaces, letting out a hollow laugh. “Hell of a job I did at keeping that from happening, huh?”
“And I didn’t want you to leave again. Because I knew I’d try to follow you. And I almost did. You don’t understand the pull you have on me—I wanted to be with you more than anything, more than I wanted to run. So I pushed back against it. Tried to ignore it. Threw myself into my work so I didn’t have to face it. Because facing you, in my mind, meant facing what I’ve been through.” He tentatively reaches a hand out, gently cups the side of her face, wiping away a tear. She has to keep herself from nuzzling into his hand.
“I can’t run from you. Yet I kept trying. And I was a fucking idiot for it.” He grits his teeth, the anger at himself glaringly clear.
“Because throughout all of this, I never communicated what I was feeling with you. I didn’t try to get over my fears for you. I was only thinking about myself and what I wanted. And you...” He slides his hand under her chin, leaving a trail of fire burning on her skin.
“...You tried to keep me happy. You followed me on my whims, you let me take the lead while I made decisions about us without ever consulting you. And I hate that I made you feel like you had to do that.” She feels her face burn, more tears spilling onto her face. His breath catches at that.
“Baby, can I hold you? Please? I can’t—”
She throws herself into his arms, full on sobbing now. He catches her, tucking her face into his neck, making shushing noises despite him having a few tears of his own, as he holds her tight, stroking her back. She feels him bury his face onto the top of her head. He continues. “I’m so sorry. It took that conversation and being without you for me to realize what an ass I’ve been. I’d love to keep you with me but more than anything I want to keep you happy.”
“I’ve scheduled my first therapy appointment.” He admits. “I’m not just doing it for you but it’s also for me. It’s for us.”
She pulls away, and at first he tightens his hold around her like it pains him to let go, but he eventually lets up. “If we get back together, you better be doing all of this for yourself. I can’t be your—“ she swallows, “—your emotional crutch. Not anymore.”
His eyes are understanding, earnest. “I know that. I don’t want you to be. I’m doing this because honestly…I need it, after what went down. And I want to make you proud. I wanna support you, too. To be here for you.”
She feels her heart swell in her chest despite herself. The last of her walls crumble away, and she’s left looking at him with an admiring, but stern, smile. “I’m not going through that shit again, Dawson.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I don’t hurt you again,” he promises, holding her hand over the strong, steady beat of his heart. She knows he’s telling the truth.
“Y/N—” She cuts him off with a kiss. He starts, but soon returns it, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap, hands gripping her waist. It’s painful, longing, loving--everything that they feel for one another poured into that kiss. She pulls away, but not too far, leaning her head against his. He shifts so his lips are a whisper away from hers, sneaking in a few more kisses.
“Y/N. I love you.” And she finally believes it. “And I’m done running. Will you be with me? Please?”
Her heart flutters. “I love you too.” She feels his heart speed up where it’s pressed against her chest. He hugs her even closer. She smiles against his lips. “You have me.”
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captainscanadian · 3 years
Text
Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Vaaranam Aayiram)
MY MASTERLIST
Series Masterlist
Summary: This night was surely a dream come true. 
Word Count: 2000+
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader, Sam Wilson
Warnings: References to Hinduism, Death, PTSD, Civil War & Endgame References.
A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles​‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana. Pic from Pinterest! <3 Divider by @whimsicalrogers​!
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Back in the 1940s, Bucky had always made it a habit to check out the Stark Expo. Having been interested in the sciences from a very young age, he had often been rather fascinated by the genius of Howard Stark - at least, until things had taken a turn for the worst once he had joined the war. He still remembered the last Stark Expo he had attended. It had been the night before he was to be shipping out to England for the war, and he had dragged Steve out to celebrate; he had also invited two girls to be their dates. 
Seeing Howard Stark present a prototype of a flying car that night had been quite the surreal experience. Sure, the Barnes family had been wealthy enough to own a car during the Great Depression and all. But nothing could ever live up to the sheer excitement of witnessing a flying car.  
Well, almost nothing. 
“You never mentioned that you could drive a flying car…” The man teased as he saw you enter the pocket park after parking Lola. 
“You never asked.” You responded, a cheeky grin plastered across your lips as you made your way over to him. 
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” 
“Me?” You quirked your eyebrow at his words. “Are you seriously telling me that I’m the one who’s full of surprises? You’ve been full of surprises all day, Bucky.”
“Guilty as charged.” Bucky beamed, stepping over to kiss you on your cheek. “You look lovely, Y/N. Let me guess, a new dress?”
That cheeky bastard. 
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You commented, having noticed that he had finally managed to cut his hair off, and he was dressed in the finest velvet suit that matched the blue of your dress. “I’ve got to admit. You clean up really nice.” 
“I’m glad you could make it.” He told you once he pulled back. “Welcome to the Stork Club.” 
You could not help but let out a soft giggle at that. When Sam had told you to ‘follow the music’, you had not understood what he must have meant at first. But it hadn’t taken you that long to realize that Bucky had referred to the music that had always been playing in your heart. You had followed your heart, and it had led you right towards Paley Park. 
“So, this is where the playboys of the 40s used to dance the nights away, huh?” You asked him as you stepped towards him, gently throwing your arms over his neck as you took it all in. 
It was a rather warm summer’s night, and New York City was as busy as ever. But with the noise cancelling atmosphere in this pocket park, you somehow felt at ease. It felt as though you were standing on a piece of history, as the Stork Club had been one of the famous clubs during the time of the Great Depression and the years that followed. But being here with Bucky was the most surreal experience of all. Perhaps this was how calming Radha had felt when she followed Krishna’s music out to the forest - calm, relaxed, and madly in love with the man who had led her there. 
“Yeah, this is it.” Bucky responded with a chuckle, his metal hand resting on your hip while his other hand moved to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “So, may I have this dance?” 
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And so, the two of you had danced the night away, under the stars in a rather tiny pocket park in Manhattan, to the music that played in your hearts. While it was not the most romantic first date out there, it was more than enough for the two of you. You had to have your own Rasleela with the man you had fallen in love with, and Bucky had finally taken a girl out to dance as he did during the 1940s. 
The two of you returned to the compound just around midnight, having strolled around Manhattan for a little longer, and taking in how busy it was in the city that never sleeps. Bucky had spent most of the night spitting out historical facts about the multiple buildings you’d walked past, and you could not help but admire the fact that you were indeed on a date with a historical figure.  
If Natasha were alive right now, you were sure that she would have teased you about your obsession with history, and how it had caused you to date the man you had written your thesis on. Perhaps if the rest of the team found out about it, they too would refuse to pass up the chance to pull your leg about it. 
Thankfully, by the time you had returned, they were all asleep. It was just you and Bucky, alone in the common kitchen, just like the many nights you had shared together before. But this time, it was not because you could not sleep through the night. It was because you did not want to sleep, or accept the fact that this night had to come to an end somehow. 
Once this night ended, you knew that you had to return to reality. The reality of leading the Avengers until Nick Fury decides to return and free you from your duties; whether he was returning was still a doubt. 
The reality was also working with the newly established GRC to deal with the many individuals who had been displaced due to the Blip. While diplomacy had always been your first choice in your career, it was safe to say that you were starting to enjoy working amongst the earth’s mightiest heroes once again. 
And speaking of diplomacy, there was something else that you really needed to get off of your chest... something that you had been meaning to tell Bucky for a while now. 
“I wish my father could see me right now.” You told him with a sigh as the two of you snuck into the common kitchen to finish up some of your leftover dosa batter. “I wish my father could see that I’ve managed to make a life for myself after he left me.” 
Bucky nodded as he sighed, understanding all too well about the loss you had been dealing with. “I’m sure your father’s watching you from wherever he is, and he’s proud of you for being the best boss lady the Avengers have ever seen.” Mixing up the batter as you wait for the pan to heat up.
You could not help but chuckle at that. “It’s funny how you say that.” Seriously, it was ironic. 
“Do you miss him a lot?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I do. I miss him… every day. He wasn’t just my father, you know? He was my role model, my mentor. I looked up to him. I wanted to be like him.”
“How did he pass?” He asked. “If you wouldn’t mind me asking…” There was a slight hesitancy that he noticed when you turned your head away from him for a moment, and he could not help but wonder why. 
Sam had mentioned to him that your last mission with the Avengers had been in Lagos, and that you had left the compound soon after, as your father had passed away around that time. 
“The bombing in Vienna.” You muttered, feeling your eyes glaze over as you remembered that dreadful day. 
It did not take that long for Bucky to put two and two together. He was well aware that your father had been a diplomat, so it made sense that he would have been at the United Nations conference to sign the Sokovia Accords when the bomb had gone off. “I… I���m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know...” He told you as he frowned, now understanding why you had given your kind regards to the Wakandan royal family. 
It was for the role they had played in putting Zemo behind bars.
“N-No, Bucky… it wasn’t your fault.” You told him with a sigh, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck. “It wasn’t your fault. I know that now.”
That last statement almost came out as a whisper. After all, you had blamed him for your father's death, along with the rest of the world that had accused him of bombing the United Nations conference. Hell, you had even fought with Steve because of it. It was a time you did not want to recall, as you now knew that you were in the wrong. 
“You thought I killed your father, didn’t you?” He asked you, his eyes glazing over as he remembered those days. Although Shuri and her team had managed to remove HYDRA’s programming from his mind, all of the memories, the trauma and the guilt were very much there for him; he was yet to start working on them. 
You could not help but nod in response to his question. “I did. I… I didn’t know then that I had been wrong about you. Steve and I… we were close. I was one of the first people he befriended after coming out of the ice. Every mission, every battle he fought… I was there every single time to fight alongside him. Even when Steve opposed the Accords, I agreed with him. I was even willing to go against my own father. Hell, I even tried to talk him out of signing. I tried to stop him from going to Vienna, but he wouldn’t listen. He…”
Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you as he let out a sigh. “So, is that why you left? Because opposing the Accords had cost you your father’s life?”
You nodded as you rested your head against his shoulder, letting out a sigh as you accepted his comfort. “Yeah, I did. I left because I didn’t see a point in fighting anymore. I couldn’t do it, not when my father was dead. I felt like it was my fault. I could have tried harder to talk him out of it. I could have stopped him from going to Vienna, but I didn’t… and now he’s dead.” You explained. “I never even got to say goodbye to him.” 
He continued to hold you for a moment as you cried, knowing that you must have been holding onto this guilt for several years now. If anything, he understood that guilt himself. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” He told you once he pulled back from the embrace, his thumbs brushing off your tears.  
Wiping away the remainder of your tears, you turned over to pour the dosa batter in the pan. “Yeah, well… that makes two of us.” 
He wrapped his arms around you once again, resting his chin against your shoulder. “If it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t your fault either, okay?” 
You nodded. “Yeah…” You agreed, for you knew that he was right. “You know, for the longest time, I believed that you were the guy who killed my father, that you were the reason why I fought with Steve, that you were the reason why my life as I knew it was gone…” You admitted, grabbing the oil and drizzling it in the pan. “But now I know that I got to know you, I know that you’re… you’re not who HYDRA had made you out to be. Under all of that brainwashing and… pain, you’re a really nice guy, Bucky. You’re kind and thoughtful. You’re…” 
“The Krishna to your Radha?” Bucky cut you off with a soft chuckle, his metal hand rubbing up and down your arms.  
You nodded as you laughed. “Yeah, that you are.” You admitted, not just to him but also to yourself. 
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Eventually, that night did come to an end. After all, the two of you were exhausted from your date and having stuffed yourselves with a late night snack, it was only fair to retreat to your respective living quarters. 
It was the first night in a while that Bucky Barnes was able to sleep in his own bed without any nightmares, as he was now dreaming of the life he would get to live with you. 
You had  a dream that night too. A dream that Andal had described that she had of when Lord Krishna had come to marry her:  
Vaaranam aayiram soozha valam vandhu,
Naarana Nambi nadakkindraan yendredhir,
Poorana pokudam vaithu, puramengum,
Thoranam naatta kana kanden thozhi, naan. 
The only difference was that it wasn’t Krishna who had come to marry you in your dreams. 
It was Bucky. 
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stories-by-rie · 3 years
Text
Chapter 2 - Heart of Silver
Four years before Evelyn gets herself cursed, she meets Ariel for the first time; and a second time, featuring a stinky Mare.
words: 2665 || masterlist
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It had all started in a club. It was a tiny one, close to the university, with mostly students working and partying there. For many, it was both a good way to earn a bit on the side, and to get the mind off nearing exams. The music was mostly pop, with some nichey songs in between, mixed in a way where no one could really complain.
    For Evelyn, it simply was too loud. She could feel the bass in her heart. The room’s air was hot and heavy, and smelled like alcohol and sweat. People were screaming over the music, laughing, possibly also being aggressive. 
    Her phone buzzed in her hand.
    Mareike wrote, just leave, come over to mine instead, we’re having chocolate cake and watching old horror movies.
    With a sigh, Evelyn typed her answer, I promised Kyla, I should at least stay a full hour. She held onto her first beer, but people pushed from all sides, so she slipped up anyway and felt the grip on her bottle lessen. Really, in such situations one had to set priorities, so she focused on the bottle, stumbled over someone else’s foot, and saw her phone fall to the ground. Over the loud noise, she didn’t hear it hit the ground, but she flinched nonetheless.
    “Very sorry!” she yelled to whoever she had run into without even looking up, eyes on the ground. As she reached out to it, she saw her hand shaking slightly. Too much noise and too many people.
    Her phone buzzed on the ground, the blue light showing her just where to reach.
    “Broken?” A voice asked and when Evelyn looked at her phone, it indeed had a thin line running through the display.
    “Just the display, I hope. Sorry, again.”
    “No problem. You should have stuck with simple mobile phones, they don’t break that easily.”
    Evelyn finally looked at the person who held a flip-phone in one of their hands, an alarmingly blue cocktail in the other that was only overshadowed by the bright blue of their hair.
    “That’s so 2009,” was all Evelyn could say which was not a good thing for small-talk, but she blamed it on her anxiety or the alcohol.
    “You don’t look like you want to be here,” the person said, tilting their head in a way that made the colourful lights reflect in their glasses for a moment.
    “I really, really don’t want to be here.”
    “Then why are you?”
    “My… my friends are somewhere-” she pointed in the general direction of the dance floor where it was impossible to single out any familiar faces in the mass of dancing people.
    “Ah,” was all the other said. For some reason, Evelyn was certain she was understood despite her stammering.
    “I’m Evelyn,” she mumbled, ignoring the buzzing in her hand again. She wasn’t sure if she would meet the other again, if in any way exchanging names would matter. But she felt compelled to.
    “Ariel. I use they/them pronouns, if you were wondering.”
    Evelyn replied with a smile. She had been wondering.
    “That’s a nice name.”
    “Thanks, I chose it myself.” Ariel grinned and drank a bit of their cocktail.
    And -- really, this could only be blamed on Evelyn’s anxious state paired with the alcohol -- she blurted out, “Ariel as in the Little Mermaid?”
    Ariel nearly choked on their drink and shook their head. “Curses, no!” Even if they looked a bit amused and somewhat quieter, though enough to be heard, they added, “Ariel as in the Sylph in The Tempest by Shakespeare.”
    Evelyn smiled and put the phone in her jeans pocket, held onto the bottle in her hand instead.
    “Why are you here?” she then asked, even if it was probably a dumb question. Most people did come to party after all, but Ariel seemed to have come on their own and at least that was a bit unusual. 
    “I am glad you asked. I heard there’s a Mare living in the air vent in the restrooms. I came to kick it out.”
    “By yourself?” Evelyn nearly dropped her beer again.
    “Well, I hoped I would run into someone who is better with those creature thingies than me, but if this turns out to be fruitless, I am willing to drag the Mare out with my own hands.”
    “Don’t do that! A Mare is much stronger than you and would cling to you instead! You would not even notice, just feel the pressure on your chest and suffer tremendously from bad dreams every night- that’s- that’s really not how you’re supposed to handle Mares!” Evelyn had spoked too fast, stumbled over her own tongue in haste to keep Ariel from making a mistake, and only now that she saw their -- victorious? -- grin, did she notice what she said. It felt as if she had walked straight into a trap.
    “Sounds a bit like you know your fair share.” The way Ariel said it, they did not sound in the least surprised.
    “You knew.”
    “What are you in for again?”
    “Psychology.” Evelyn took a step back, clutching her beer tighter.
    Ariel followed her, narrowing their eyes. “Liar.”
    “I studied Mythology and Mystical Practices before, but I didn’t graduate, so it doesn’t mean anything.”
    “You still have the knowledge, though.” Ariel looked smug, sipping on their cocktail and Evelyn knew that they wouldn’t relent. But it really was not in her place to help.
    “If there is a Mare in the vent, you should notify the building’s janitor, so that they can then call a company that specialises in this. The insurance might not cover the victims’ therapy if the whole situation isn’t handled following the book, so. Please, really, don’t mess with it. Sometimes it’s better to just leave these things alone.”
    Nausea spread in her stomach. It was time to go. She really had indulged her friends for long enough, wherever they might be amusing themselves. Her heart beat in an unsteady rhythm, calling for sleep or distractions. She turned around, looking at the green exit sign, but Ariel kept talking. 
    “I already did notify the janitor, but he didn’t take me seriously. So I then contacted the owner, but he would not even talk to me. That’s why I decided to take the matter into my own hands and you will help me.”
    “I absolutely will not.” The thought alone made her skin itchy, made the air in the club even harder to breathe. She looked down at her phone, several messages demanding to be read. She quickly unlocked it and opened the group chat.
    I’ll head home, hope you still have some fun! Had a nice evening ^^
    To Mareike’s messages of, r u home yet? just send an emoji that ur fine, she replied with a sparkles emoji.
    “I’ll go,” she said, looking up to Ariel, but they were already gone. A hint of guilt crept into her bones – maybe she had been too harsh? But her heart beat so fast it made her cheeks feel hot, so she really needed fresh air. She put down her beer on a nearby table and fought her way through the sweaty bodies until she saw the night sky above her. The summer heat was not much better.
    The second time she met Ariel was roughly two weeks after their first encounter, on campus during lunch time. Ariel was sitting – lounging – on a bench under some birches. The small leaves were barely enough to provide shelter from the staggering sun. Evelyn really just noticed them because their iced coffee fell right out of their hand, rolling all the way down to her feet.
    “You lost something,” Evelyn said and held out the cup to them. She felt more than uncomfortable the longer she stood there, but she had started it now, maybe feeling still a bit guilty for the last time. The lid had kept most of the coffee inside but some of the cold and slightly sticky beverage still dripped down her fingers. Ariel pushed up their heart-shaped sunglasses, their own glasses underneath, and looked at the cup quizzically. Since they had last met, Ariel had gotten deep shadows under their red-rimmed eyes.
    “You look awful,” Evelyn said, forgetting about the existence of her verbal filter.
    “Thanks, it’s the exams.”
    “What do you-”
    “Doing my Masters in Curses.”
    “That’s a thing?”
    Ariel froze a bit and then mumbled, “I am sort of making it a thing?”
    They finally took the iced coffee out of Evelyn’s hand, took off the lid, chugged it all at once and threw it into the bin next to the bench.
    “Sounds very cool. And useful,” Evelyn mumbled and nearly missed how Ariel’s eyes shut again, only for them to flinch back awake. “You seem incredibly tired, though.”
    “It’s the stress, don’t worry. It’s giving me bad dreams, is all.”
    They looked each other in the eyes, communicating silently that they both knew that the other knew. It was Evelyn who finally broke it.
    “You can’t be serious. You really went into that vent to get the Mare alone? You can’t just do that.”
    Ariel just shrugged and let the sunglasses drop down again. “Well, actually I could. It wasn’t even hard. I just climbed from the toilet seat to the air vent – which is much smaller than it looks in movies, by the way – and crawled through it following the snoring sounds. Then I saw the Mare – which was the ugliest thing I laid sight upon so far, by the way – and hunted it through the maze. Just that I kinda lost it after ten seconds or so. I swear I could still hear it, but it was just too dark and I didn’t really think to bring a flash-light. Damn, it really scared the shit out of me, because I kept turning around? But there was nothing.”
    “That’s because the Mare climbed onto your back and stuck to you then. I told you that would happen, but you didn’t listen. So of course you are tired now, you’re haunted by it.”
    “Ah, right. You did say that.” Ariel rested their head on their hand and pouted. “That’s the bad dreams then.”
    “Yeah. Mares eat good dreams, so you only have the bad ones, and more of them to fill the blanks.” Evelyn sat down next to them, a little helpless.
    “I never have good dreams, though. Just weird ones. The kind where a giant slug comes and eats my master thesis and I give it strawberries as a thank. I miss the slug, I used to call it Bob.”
    Evelyn raised an eyebrow at them, uncertain if they were being serious, joking, or if it was the lack of sleep.
    “Well, maybe you will get lucky and the Mare will lose its sanity and leave you alone soon.”
    “That can happen?”
    “No.”
    Ariel groaned and stretched, only to slump down again. “What do I do now?”
    “Hire a company to get rid of it. Just know that no insurance company is gonna cover it, because you dragged the Mare into your bedroom yourself. You basically asked it to come inside.”
    Ariel pulled a face and sighed heavily. “I can’t afford that. Can’t you come?”
    “If you study curses, haven’t you covered mythological practices in your bachelor's too?”
    “Not really. Just in theory. In more practical terms, I already only focused on curses back then. I want to be a curse-broker, so I never bothered with anything beyond ghosts. You seem to be able to, though. You never once mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to help me, just that you didn’t want to.”
    Evelyn didn’t answer. They were right, of course. She had learnt everything she needed to know long before she had entered uni for the first time, growing up as the daughter of the owners of a company specializing on mythological creatures. Studying that at uni was supposed to only give her the licence to work in the field, she hadn’t gained new knowledge at any point.
    “Have you ever considered that I might really suck at dealing with creatures? I might make the situation worse for you,” she then mumbled, staring at the blue sky behind the birch leaves. She said it barely loud enough to be understood.
    “Do you?” Ariel worked through their bag and pulled out two lollies, offering one to Evelyn.
    “No,” she replied truthfully. “I am really bad with curses, though.” She unwrapped the lolly and put it into her mouth. “Curses are more my sister’s expertise.”
    Something in her voice must have betrayed her feelings. The hurt, the anger, the resentment. It was all she had to say to be understood. Ariel stayed silent for a long time as they sat on that bench, letting the lollies turn their tongues green. When lunch break was over, students walked over the campus to different buildings, but they stayed seated. 
    “She’s not dead, tho, is she? Wait! Did a Mare kill her?” Ariel then suddenly asked, their voice a bit shrill that it made Evelyn giggle.
    “Nah, don’t worry. Mares aren’t high class enough to kill you. Maybe the after effect of the insomnia would in due time, but I don’t know many cases in which it went that far,” Evelyn explained and bit on the lolly stick after the sugar had dissolved inside her mouth. “My sister’s fine. She went abroad.” Evelyn then frowned as the trees’ shadows moved with the sun, the bright light blinding her now. They had sat there for a while. “To the USA. I haven’t seen her in a while, it’s been one and a half years.”
    “You were close?” Ariel asked softly. Evelyn heard how they were more serious now.
    “Yeah. I mean. I am pretty sure that I am always closer to people than they are to me. But we got along well. We were a good team. She got this really good research opportunity in Philadelphia though. It’s good she went.”
    “But you still miss her.” Ariel handed her a new lolly with a grin and she accepted.
    “Yeah, I do. Of course, I do.”
    “Hm.” Ariel unwrapped their second lolly as well, eyes still droopy from their accidental nap. “Is she the reason you don’t go in the field anymore?”
    “More or less,” Evelyn started, and the fear of oversharing hit her. But Ariel had asked, in some way at least. “After she left, I tried to make up for the gap she left behind. It did not work out well. I messed up this one job and no one got hurt, but it just reminded me that I was kinda raised into it all and it felt wrong so I left.”
    “Huh. So you dumped your whole study subject?”
    “Yeah. I worked without a license. My parents covered it all up, which just felt even more wrong. I should have had to face the consequences, or at least my parents. I should have gotten banned from field work anyway, so leaving was the only choice to make.”
    “Do you miss it?”
    “Sometimes. A bit.”
    “I have just  the thing. Back at home there’s a Mare that I can’t afford to kick out professionally. It’s kinda stealing my sleep.”
    Without Evelyn noticing, they had come closer, a slightly mischievous grin on their lips. There really was no way to say no to them now. At some point she must have said something close to a yes, because Ariel was dragging her down the stairs towards the town and their apartment where the Mare occupied their bed. Evelyn wondered every now and then if all that conversation had been some detailed plan to lead her into that trap until she followed Ariel home to help them with the creature. But then again, she somehow had also followed Ariel into that new, quite weird friendship between them, so she did not actually mind that much.
----
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xaphrin · 4 years
Text
Maybe I wasn’t going to use my hand.
Raven woke from her dream with a start, the book on her chest sliding down to the floor with a smack. Afternoon sunlight slid through the crack in her curtains, and delicate, dulcet tones of Bach were playing softly from the speaker on her nightstand. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she lay on her bed, carefully shifting her still-injured leg as she tried to wipe the cobwebs from her memory. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her mind felt like it was racing as she tried to both remember and forget the dream she just had. 
Deep, olive skin pressed against her own. 
Soft, dark hair. 
Even softer lips… 
...buried between her thighs.
Raven groaned and she shifted her legs under the covers, biting the inside of her cheek. Her skin felt tight and itchy, like she needed to be touched or she might split open and all of her secrets would come spilling out. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching for the book on the floor. She couldn’t let the dream rile her up like that. She had far too many things to be thinking about - her senior thesis, her grad school application, her finals in two weeks. Sex was not one of the things she needed to be thinking about right now. Especially not sex with Damian. 
She ran a shaky hand through her hair and opened up her book, her eyes becoming unfocused as she tried to read the words on the page. Her body hummed, reminding her that it had been a long, long time since she felt the sweet release of orgasm. Of that bone-deep exhaustion that left her feeling like fog drifting on a still pond. 
No. She had important things to think about. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, but her body pulsed again, so eager for something it was almost painful. Raven’s resolve felt weak, and with an embarrassed flush she fumbled in her nightstand drawer and pulled out her small vibrator. She turned it onto its lowest setting and shoved it under the covers and under her clothes, pressing it against her clit.
Oh. Yes. That was exactly what she needed.  
Raven sucked in a soft breath and settled back against her pillows, closing her eyes as she felt the sweet, sharp pressure build inside her. Immediately, her mind was suddenly filled with all the images of her mid-afternoon dream. Damian’s too-green eyes watching her as his tongue traced her, lapped her up, enjoyed making her squirm. He bit her thighs, hummed his pleasure, told her how fucking good she tasted. He curled his fingers inside her and pumped with quick, hard, angled strokes that left her feeling utterly breathless. Her neck against the pillows and Raven sighed again, turning the vibrator up a little higher, clenching her teeth as pleasure continued to radiate through her. 
She wished she could say this was the first time she had a sex dream about Damian, but it wasn’t. This was a dirty little secret she could barely admit to herself. She had been having these dreams for years, but only since their date last week that the dreams had started coming with more frequency and vibrancy. This last one was vivid, and it made her feel like she’d lost control of everything, until all she wanted was to tumble into Damian’s bed and let him fuck her into oblivion. Raven reached over and turned up her speaker a little louder, Bach now drowning out the sound of her vibrator.
Raven thought back to their kiss, and let go of another sigh, her stomach tightening. He tasted like the wine from the restaurant and mint chapstick, and she realized she could have spent all night kissing him. He was stupidly good at it, and he tasted delicious. She bit into her lower lip and slid a hand under her shirt, her fingers teasing her nipple and imagining it was Damian’s hand on her breast. It hadn’t been the fumbling touches she had gotten used to from her previous boyfriends, but something sure and possessive. It felt as though he branded her as his and his alone. 
I want to make you come.
Raven pinched her nipple and her back arched as she felt electricity pool beneath her belly button and deep between her thighs. Her breath was short and shallow, and she could feel the siren’s call her release tightening in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t feel like any time she’d masturbated before. This felt like something wholly different. She swallowed a low moan and clicked the vibrator up as high as it would go, leaving her twisting underneath the sheets, letting the sensation take her off this plane of existence and somewhere else. Her skin was slick with sweat, her breath short and staccato, and her mind was filled with every image of Damian she could conjure. His eyes, his smirk, his too-full lips, his low voice, his hands on her body, and-
Raven came suddenly and without warning, barely muffling her moan with the back of her hand. Her whole body seized up as she lay there and let wave after wave of pleasure pull her deeper and deeper underwater. Colors seemed bright and sounds scraped against her skin, her senses muddled and messy. Finally spent, she lay there, drenched with sweat and twitching, but actually satiated for the first time in months. Her hand fumbled for the off switch, and she turned off the vibrator, letting herself bask in the afterglow of her orgasm. 
Holy hell. 
It took a few moments for her thoughts to congeal back in her head, but she felt… good. Far too good. She sighed and stared at her ceiling, her mind remembering their date and flicking through the moments we spent together. It would have been easy to continue to dislike him if he’d been the jerk she always expected him to be, but he wasn’t. He was surprisingly sweet in his own way, almost charming, and damn if he wasn’t a good kisser. He played her like a finely-tuned instrument, and she loved it. 
Raven sighed and pushed at her hair, chewing on her lower lip as she thought for a few, long minutes. This was not how her senior year was supposed to go - falling for her arch-rival. Who she was pretty sure wanted to sleep with her, and she definitely wanted to sleep with him.   
A knock came from her door, shaking her out of her thoughts. 
Raven sat up, trying to shove her hair back into a bun so she didn’t look like she’d just been masturbating. She cleared her throat and called out. “Come in?” 
The door opened to reveal Damian with a stack of papers and a bag from her favorite burger place on the other side of town. She felt embarrassment darken her face, as though he could somehow sense that she’d just been pleasuring herself to thoughts of him. She tugged at her shirt and adjusted the blankets over her legs, feeling her vibrator rest against her thigh. Damnit. At least it was still off, so he wouldn’t have any idea of what had been happening in her room just minutes ago. 
Without her consent, her stomach growled furiously, but he just laughed and walked in, closing the door behind him. “I take it you’re hungry?”
Raven tried not to look guilty, and she shrugged. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw Donna in the Rec and she mentioned you hadn’t been able to get on campus for a while, so I picked up your papers from your American Lit class and your Baroque Lit class. I wasn’t sure if you needed any of it for your senior thesis.” He shrugged and handed her the papers. “And I grabbed notes from a classmate for you. And lunch for you too.” 
Raven blinked as he set the papers down next to her, and the bag of food on her nightstand. There was a long, slow pause before she spoke. “Who are you, and what did you do to Damian?”
He lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Would you rather I treat you with cold indifference? Because I will gladly eat that burger-”
Raven snatched the bag off the nightstand and glared at him. “Don’t you dare.” 
He let go of a low chuckle and sat at the edge of her bed, glancing around her room. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
“I can see that.” She reached into the bag and shoved a fry into her mouth, never looking away from him. “I just don’t understand what would make you stoop so low.”
He shrugged, but she could see a shadow in his eye, as if there was something he was trying to keep secret from her. “You told me to keep making you change your mind. So… here I am, trying not to make your life a living hell.”
“That’s so kind of you.” She ate another fry. “But I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. You want something, don’t you?”
There was a long pause and Damian sighed in defeat, casting a sideways glance at her. “I need an out.” 
Raven unwrapped the burger and took a bite. Heaven. He even knew how she liked her burger? Who was this man and how did he know her so well? She wiped at her mouth with a napkin and pitched forward an inch, her eyes searching his profile. “Sounds suspiciously like you need a favor.” 
“I… might have told my father that I was helping an injured friend to avoid going to a gala tonight.” He scratched at his chin and glanced away. “Father said send proof.” 
“You want to take a picture of me and my sprained ankle to get out of a gala?” She took another bite and chewed slowly, watching him through narrowed eyes. If she had only known this burger came with caveats, she would have never eaten it. Maybe. Raven swallowed, still staring at him. “And you’re trying to bribe me with food and kind gestures.”
“Just the food, actually.” Damian shrugged. “The kind gesture really is to get you to change your mind about me.” He smirked and leaned closer to her, meeting her stare. “As long as it works.”
Raven watched him for another long moment before rolling her eyes and sighing in defeat. “Fine. You can take a couple pictures. But you owe me. And I don’t want your family to start thinking we’re dating or anything.”
“I wouldn’t dare subject you to that shame.” He laughed and rearranged the books on her lap and easing her sprained ankle out from under the covers. He propped up her foot with a pillow and rearranged a few things, making it look like she was desperately needing his help, before taking a picture. “Ah. Looks good. You look so helpless and buried in homework.”
She narrowed her eyes. “The entire Wayne family better not think I’m some helpless, vapid sorority girl.”
He picked up a particularly thick book on her lap and snorted, looking at the title. “Not with these kinds of books surrounding you.” 
Raven watched as he moved to the other side of her bed and sat down next to her, resting against the headboard like he was helping her out with her homework before taking a selfie of both of them. There was some clicking as he wrote a message, and then he sent it off to his father. Damian looked down at her with a teasing smile, but didn’t move off the bed. He looked content enough to sit there forever, and Raven was inclined to let him. As silly and foolish as that sounded to her. 
“There. Now, he stays off my back, and I owe you a favor.”
“A favor from a Wayne is like a golden ticket.” Raven reached for her unfinished food and glanced over at him. This felt intimate, the warmth of his body pressed against her own, while the soothing sound of Bach filled the small space between them. Her heart climbed into her throat and beat out an increasingly frantic rhythm, as Raven realized she had no idea how to handle this. The last time he was in her room, they ended up making out on this very same bed and he told her he wanted to make her come. She shivered and closed her eyes, trying to keep her mind from wandering. 
“The frat is throwing a party after finals.” Damian picked up a book and paged through it, as if he suddenly needed something to do with his hands. “You should come and hang out. Hopefully your ankle will be all good by then.”
She shrugged, picking at her food. “Sure. I know Donna and Karen will be there.” 
Damian nodded, and there was another long stretch of silence between them. He fidgeted with the book, and Raven could feel the tension start to spike between them. There was something building inside him, and this forced silence was only going to make it worse.  
Raven sighed and gave him a flat stare. “Whatever you want to say, say it. Because this awkward silence is starting to freak me out, and I don’t know what you want.”
Damian searched her eyes for a long moment, leaning over towards her side of the bed. Oh. Oh. With a mental slap to herself, Raven realized that he was moving towards her as if he wanted to kiss her again, and she desperately wanted to return it. The back of his knuckles slid along the line of her jaw, and she found herself tilting her face up towards him, closing her eyes and waiting for the world to stop. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to do far more than kiss, but she’d let herself be content with just this. 
He moved closer to her, the sound of her covers shifting mingling with Bach. She could feel his heat and smell his soap, and it all felt too real and too much. Damian leaned over her, his thigh pressing against hers through the blanket, and-
The room was suddenly filled with a very distinct hum.
Her vibrator. 
He accidentally turned her vibrator on. 
Raven froze, as if she thought she might be able to disappear into the floorboards in order to escape this moment. Damian pulled back, pressing his lips together as he fought back a laugh. Raven reached beneath the covers and found the vibrator, fumbling to turn it off before she shoved it back into her nightstand drawer. Heat stained her face and Raven sunk down into the bed, pulling the covers up over her head, hoping he could just forget all of this.
“So…” Damian’s voice was low and teasing. “I have about forty very curious questions.”
“Please shut up.” Raven wrapped the blanket tighter over her head and groaned. “Can you just… go away and let me die in peace?”  
“If you want.”
She could feel Damian moving off the bed, taking a moment to gather his things. The door opened, but he didn’t step out. A second passed and Raven stole a glance over the edge of her blanket to see him standing there, staring at her with a bemused smile on his face. 
“You know it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Raven buried her head back under the covers. “Please. Just go away.” 
She heard him walking back to her, and felt the press of his lips against her head through the blanket. Heat filled her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pretend that none of this was happening. 
“Next time let me know…” Damian’s voice was pitched sinfully low, like a warning rumble of thunder. “...I’ll be more than happy to help.”
Raven’s eyes slammed open, and she sat there, frozen under her blanket, listening as he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. A whole, silent minute passed as she let his words slide over her again, burying deep into her brain. 
Wait.
What?
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