#remember when u were like 'u should write me a starter' like a month ago? well. it's time

[ohfiendangelical]

It’s been quite some time since Ben darkened his door — and seeing him now, Zero almost doesn’t recognize him. He looms like an enemy, eyes shadowy and furious; there’s an eerie electricity about him, a vengeful readiness for violence. His rage is palpable, but incomprehensible. It makes Zero uneasy. 

          “You look angry, Benjamin,”          he says, playing it cool. Flashing a smile, he opens his arms to @undoctrine​.          “Why don’t you come in and we talk about it?”

Whatever it is. 

[blackcatrph]

** sour  sentence  starters.

brutal.

“  i think that i’ll die before i drink.  ”

“  i'm so caught up in the news of who likes me and who hates you.  ”

“  i'm so tired that I might quit my job, start a new life.  ”

“  they'd all be so disappointed  because who am I if not exploited?  ”

“  where's my fuckin' teenage dream?  ”

“  if someone tells me one more time "enjoy your youth," I'm gonna cry.  ”

“  i'm anxious and nothing can help.  ”

“  i wish I'd done this before.  ”

“  i wish people liked me more.  ”

“  all I did was try my best.  ”

“  this the kind of thanks I get?  ”

“  they say these are the golden years.  ”

“  i wish I could disappear.  ”

“  god, it's brutal out here.  ”

“  i feel like no one wants me.  ”

“  i only have two real friends.  ”

“  lately I'm a nervous wreck.  ”

“  i love people I don't like.  ”

“  i hate every song I write.  ”

“  i'm not cool, and I'm not smart.  ”

“  i can't even parallel park.  ”

“  got a broken ego, broken heart.  ”

“  i don't even know where to start.  ”

traitor.

“  brown guilty eyes and little white lies.  ”

“  i played dumb but I always knew.  ”

“  i kept quiet so I could keep you.  ”

“  ain't it funny how you ran to her the second that we called it quits?  ”

“  ain't it funny how you said you were friends?  ”

“  it sure as hell don't look like it.  ”

“  you betrayed me.  ”

“  i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.  ”

“  loved you at your worst but that didn't matter.  ”

“  guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor.  ”

“  there's no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly.  ”

“  ain't it funny, all the twisted games, all the questions you used to avoid?  ”

“  remember I brought her up and you told me I was paranoid?  ”

“  i wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.  ”

“  you gave me your word but that didn't matter.  ”

drivers  license. 

“  i got my driver's license last week.  ”

“  just like we always talked about.  ”

“  today I drove through the suburbs crying 'cause you weren't around.  ”

“  you're probably with that blonde girl.  ”

“  she's so much older than me.  ” 

“  she's everything I'm insecure about.  ”

“  how could I ever love someone else?   “

“  i know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one.  ”

“  i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.  ”

“  guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.  ”

“  all my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you.  ”

“  I kinda feel sorry for them because they'll never know you the way that I do.  ”

“  i still see your face in the white cars, front yards.  ”

“  can't drive past the places we used to go to because I still fuckin' love you.  ”

1  step  forward,  3  steps  back.

“  i called you on the phone today.  ”

“  all I did was speak normally.  ”

“  you got me fucked up in the head.  ”

“  like am I pretty? am I fun?  ”

“  i hate that I gave you power over that kind of stuff.  ”

“  it's always one step forward and three steps back.  ”

“  i'm the love of your life until I make you mad.  ”

“  do you love me, want me, hate me? i don't understand.  ”

“  maybe in some masochistic way I kind of find it all exciting.  ”

“  which lover will I get today?  ”

“  will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?  ”

“  it's back and forth, did I say somethin' wrong?  ”

“  it's back and forth, goin' over everything I said.  ”

“  i'd leave you, but the roller coaster's all I've ever had.  ”

deja vu.

“  strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two?  ”

“  i bet she's braggin' to all her friends, sayin' you're so unique.  ”

“  so when you gonna tell her that we did that, too?  ”

“  that was our place, I found it first.  ”

“  i made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you.  ”

“  do you get déjà vu when she's with you?  ”

“  do you call her, almost say my name?  ”

“  i hate to think that I was just your type.  ”

“  don't act like we didn't do that shit too.  ”

“  play her piano, but she doesn't know that I was the one who taught you Billy Joel.  ”

good  4  u.

“  well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily.  ”

“  you found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.  ”

“  remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?  ”

“  good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself.  ” 

“  i guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped.  ”

“  now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.  ”

“  well, good for you, you look happy and healthy.  ”

“  not me, if you ever cared to ask.  ”

“  good for you, you're doin' great out there without me.  ”

“  i've lost my mind.  ”

“  i've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom.  ”

“  it's like we never even happened.  ”

“  what the fuck is up with that?  ”

“  good for you, it's like you never even met me.  ”

“  remember when you swore to god i was the only person who ever got you?  ”

“  well, screw that and screw you.  ”

“  you will never have to hurt the way you know that I do.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional.  ”

“  your apathy's like a wound in salt.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional  or maybe you never cared at all.  ”

“  like a damn sociopath.  ”

enough  for  you.

“  i wore makeup when we dated because I thought you'd like me more.  ”

“  i know that you loved before.  ”

“  tried so hard to be everything that you like.  ”

“  i read all of your self-help books so you'd think that I was smart.  ”

“  stupid, emotional, obsessive little me.  ”

“  i knew from the start this is exactly how you'd leave.  ”

“  you found someonе more exciting.  ”

“  you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong.  ”

“  you always say I'm never satisfied but I don't think that's true.  ”

“  all I ever wanted was to be enough for you.  ”

“  maybe I'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before.  ”

“  you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more.  ”

“  i'd say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that.  ”

“  i don’t want your sympathy, i just want myself back.  ”

“  don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded?  ”

“  don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?  ”

“  don’t tell me you’re sorry, feel sorry for yourself.  ”

“  someday i’ll be everything to somebody else.  ”

“  you’ll be the one crying.  ”

happier.

“  we broke up a month ago. ”

“  your friends are mine you know.  ”

“  you’ve moved on, found someone new.  ”

“  i thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past.  ”

“  she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty.  ”

“  does she mean you forgot about me ?  ”

“  i hope you’re happy but not like how you were with me.  ”

“  i’m selfish i know. i can’t let you go.  ”

“  find someone great, but don’t find no one better.  ”

“  i hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.  ”

 “  do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?  ”

“  an eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean.  ”

“  remember when i believe you meant it when you said it first to me?  ”

“  now i’m picking her apart like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart.  ”

“  she’s beautiful, she looks kind.  ”

“  she probably gives you butterflies.  ”

“  i wish you all the best, really.  ”

“  say you love her, just not like you loved me.  ”

“  think of me fondly when your hands are on her.  ”

jealousy  jealousy.

“  i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room.  ”

“  all i see are girls too good to be true.  ”

“  i know their beauty’s not my lack but it feels like that weight is on my back.  ”

“  comparison is killing me slowly.  ”

“  i think i think too much.  ”

“  i’m so sick of myself, i’d rather be anyone else.  ”

“  my jealousy started following me.  ”

“  i see everyone getting all the things i want.  ”

“  i’m happy for them, but then again, i’m not.  ”

“  i can’t stand it.  ” 

“  oh god i sound crazy.  ”

“  their win is not my loss, i know it’s true.  ”

“  i can’t help getting caught up in it all.  ”

“  all your friends are so cool.  ”

“  you go out every night.  ”

“  you’re living the life.  ”

“  i want to be you so bad, and i don’t even know you.  ”

“  all i see is what i should be.  ”

favourite  crime.

“  know that i love you so bad.  ”

“  i let you treat me like that.  ”

“  i was your willing accomplice.  ”

“  i watched as you fled the scene.  ”

“  doe-eyed as you buried me.  ”

“  the things i did just so i could call you mine.  ”

“  the things you did. well, i hope i was your favourite crime.  ”

“  you used me as an alibi.  ”

“  i crossed my heart and you crossed the line.  ”

“  i defended you to all my friends.  ”

“  every time i siren sounds, i wonder if you’re around.  ”

“  you know that i’d do it all again.  ”

“  it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.  ”

“  i was going down but i was doing it with you.  ”

“  i say that i hate you with a smile on my face.  ”

“  look what we became.  ” 

hope  ur  ok.

“  his parents cared more about the bible than being good to their own child.  ”

“  wore long sleeves because of his dad.  ”

“  somehow we fell out of touch.  ”

“  hope he took his bad deal and made a royal flush.  ”

“  don’t know if i’ll see you again someday.  ”

“  i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  her parents hated who she loved.  ”

“  she was brought into a world where family was merely blood.  ” 

“  with the courage to unlearn all of their hatred.  ”

“  we don’t talk much.  ”

“  i miss you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  address the letter to the holes in my butterfly wings.  ”

“  nothing’s forever, nothing is as good as it seems.  ”

“  when the clouds are ironed our and the monsters creep into your house, every door is hard to close.  ”

“  i hope you know how proud i am.  ”

“  i hope that you’re happier today.  ”

“  i love you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”  

[district2001]

The Ring that bounds us together

PAIRING: SVT (Mainly Wonwoo) x 14th Member (female)

GENRE: Domestic SVT?

WORDS: 1.5k

Summary: Wonwoo lost his SVT ring and Y/N decides to be a useful maknae, for once

A/N: Took me a while but I’m back. Thought lockdon was the best time to start writing again. But this time about SVT, cos i have become a massive carat since i left. Please also lemme know if u hv any requests. Xx

Ok. So one thing Y/N hated was a mess. Sure she could handle a spill here and there, some clothes on the designated chair, and even could tolerate 2 day old food still on the kitchen bench. But what she couldn’t stand was not seeing the floor of her living room.

The culprit. The one and only Jeon Wonwoo. The only person who chooses to sleep in the living room so that their dorm could have a gaming café set up in his room. Questionable? Very. But Coups and him made it work, so no one ever complained about having a bed in the middle of their shared living space.

Until today, where Y/N had come from her daily coffee run to find Wonwoo, shirtless with a towel around his waist, flinging clothes out of his cupboard, throwing his somewhat folded clothes into a sea of mess.

“Wonwoo-Oppa?”

“What?” Wonwoo didn’t even bother giving Y/N any eye contact as he continued emptying his closet like his life depended on it.

“What are you doing?”

Wonwoo didn’t even bother replying this time, instead moving over to the neighbouring cupboard to ransack it instead.

Grabbing the hair tie from her left arm, Y/N quickly placed her hair in a high pony-tail. “Mingyu Oppa won’t be very happy to come back and see this mess. Remember last time with Seokmin Oppa didn’t pack up the pillows after making that fort?”

Nothing. No Response.

Y/N shook her head, something was indeed troubling her friend. So much so, that he wasn’t giving the maknae the time of day.

If Wonwoo wasn’t going to reply to her and show her respect, she would do the same thing back. Passively of course. She wasn’t evil.

“Wonwoo-ya, do you want some help, doing whatever you’re doing?” Y/N would be OFFENDED if she didn’t get a response, but she knew better than to constantly try to get attention when it clearly wouldn’t be given. Although she was very curious to figure out the cause of this weird cleaning phase.

Luckily for her, not showing respect to her elders always guaranteed in her being called out for it. And today was no different.

“Firstly, it’s Oppa. I’m older than you. Here in SK we show respect to our elders. So add that suffix to my name.”

Y/N dramatically rolled her eyes, something which was clearly Jeonghan’s influence. Nevertheless, she sighed, signalling with her hands for Wonwoo to answer her question.

“I went to have a shower, then realised I didn’t have my ring on,” looking at Y/N from the corner of his eyes, through his glasses.

Y/N clearly didn’t see the issue. “Just tell our designers you lost the ring. Problem solved.”

Clicking her heels together, she started walking towards her room. Shouting “Clean up the mess before Mingyu sees. He’ll be more mad then our team.”

She chuckled before adding, “and he’s cooking us dinner so don’t make him mad. I’m looking forward to taco Tuesday.”

“I lost our team ring.” Wonwoo aggressively whispered.

Y/N stopped right before entering her room.

Lost the SVT ring. The one just given a couple months ago. Had she expected this from the members, not really. Had she expected it from Wonwoo, definitely not. Mingyu and Jun, possibly. Maybe. She still didn’t know how they had managed to keep there’s this entire time.

Y/n quickly walked back towards the mountain of clothes, just narrowly avoiding stepping on a leather jacket with metal spikes.

“What do you mean you lost it?”

“I don’t know. I went to go shower, and I realised it wasn’t there.”

“When’s the last time you realised it was on your finger? Did you hear a clanging sound anytime during the day? Did you post a picture today? Could it have been on your finger when you did?”

Y/N started bombarding Wonwoo with questions, something she had learned from watching far too many episodes of Criminal Minds.

Although the case this time didn’t have to do with a murder, but instead a very valuable ring.

“Umm no idea. Am I meant to? Uhhh… what was the last one?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Have you asked the others?,” Y/N asked, despite knowing the answer.

“NO!” No member would admit to losing the ring, or years of jokes would be brought upon them.

She was sure that Wonwoo wouldn’t have told her, if he wasn’t in such a frazzled state.

Plus, she too had misplaced her ring for a day, opting to wear gloves so that none of her band-mates would catch her. Luckily, she found it between her bedsheets.

“Ok. Ok. Hmmmm. I’ll recheck the lounge, you go to the bathroom or wherever you’ve been in this apartment.”

Wonwoo trudged off, silently obeying the younger one.

The duo spent a good 2 hrs ransacking their dorm, trying to find the missing ring.

“Bro this is harder than finding a needle in a haystack… bro we should make a new saying,” Y/N groaned, falling back onto Wonwoo’s bed.

Wonwoo flopped beside her.

“You’re gonna get absolutely roasted by everyone. And I make no promises that I won’t join in”

“They won’t find out I lost it.”

“And how’s that? I might be an annoying maknae and tell them” Y/N smiled smugly.

“Well, for starters I could tell them that you’ve secretly been eating chips despite being diet buddies with Jeonghan”

“Pshhh. That’s nothing. Jihoon Oppa legit joined me last night. We ate his secret stash of snakes”

“Fine. I’ll tell them that you lost your ring aswell.”

“No I didn’t”

“Yes you did.”

“When did I? Have you noticed me not wear the ring? Don’t li-?”

“Firstly, you rattle on when you’re nervous.’ Y/N shut her mouth, before she could make her mistake more obvious, allowing Wonwoo to keep talking.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing gloves to practise. And ONLY on your left hand.”

“W-Wh-What?” Y/N Stuttered. Not sure if admitting her mistake or continuing to lie would be her best option.

She chose the former. “I’ll keep quiet about you, and you keep quiet about me.”

Wonwoo grabbed his gloves from the mountain of clothes, and quickly slipped them on his hands.

“Look’s like we got ourselves a deal.”

The mood quickly sombered up when Wonwoo did a deep sigh and asked.

“What actually happens if I’ve lost my ring?”

“You get a new one?”

“No. But like…”

He trailed off to collect this thoughts.

“Would I get in trouble?”

“I mean Pledis might be a bit pissed off cos they need to spend money on another ring. But I’m sure they’ll do it without a doubt. It’s our brand.”

“No not pledis. I don’t give a flying shit about them. I meant the others.”

“Who the members.” Wonwoo nods his head in confirmation.

Y/N leans her head against the crook of his neck, “You’ll get bagged for it. But they won’t take it too seriously.”

“But the rings a symbol of our friendship and trust.” Trust Wonwoo to go all literature on her.

“Exactly. A symbol.”

Wonwoo looked at Y/N, clearly not understanding the connection.

Y/N smiled, finally outsmarting the group’s so-called genius.

“It’s a symbol. Not the real thing. Think of the Jjapaguri in ‘Parasite.’ It’s a mix of aspects of poor and rich, but even if it wasn’t included, the characters would be struggling to act rich.” Y/n finished proudly.

“If you’re going to talk nonsense, at least talk to someone who believes you. Like Chan. He believes the chicken comes before the egg. Idiot.”

Y/N jumped up. “Well, if I’m such an idiot, you can deal with this ring situation all by yourself.”

“Wait no.” Wonwoo quickly sat up on his bed. “You’re a genius. Brilliant. Smartest member.”

He tilted his head, “Happy?”

“Very” Y/N replied.

“Can you make some ramen when I chuck my clothes back in the drawers?”

“Fine. We can fill their stomachs up so they don’t ask too many questions?” Y/N held out her hand and dragged Wonwoo up.

20 minutes later, a living room where the floor was visible and 10 portions of msg-filled ramen was placed on the table, to greet their 5 other roommates.

Soon the door banged open, and numerous sweaty man-childs came tumbling in.

“Wonwoo you absolute idiot. We’re never gonna forget this” Seokmin said happily.

“What?”

Hoshi stepped out behind him, proudly holding up his pinky.

“Soonyoung, don’t you have your own dorm to-”

Wonwoo squinted. On the Performance leaders left pinky were 2 silver rings.

Wonwoo would only sheepishly smile, while pointing behind him.

“Hey, I cleaned the living room.”

[oddcoupler222]

Merry Christmas! I’m a big TWW fan and in anticipation for the published version I was wondering if you could share us the scene in the epilogue where Marg surprises Prof Sansa mid lesson. I vaguely remember the funny twitterverse pic you made for this scene but would love a written version! 😊🎁

Merry Christmas back!

for reference :)

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

Eliza didn’t sign up for Women in Contemporary Westerosi Lit merely because Professor Stark was teaching it -- she wasn’t weirdly obsessed with the woman. But she wouldn’t say she didn’t jump at the class when she’d seen that her favorite professor was teaching it.

Even though this was officially Professor Stark’s first semester teaching, Eliza would never forget how she’d been the TA in her first year in university. Dr. Lannister had been a great professor but intimidating at times, whereas Sansa - as a grad student in her final semester - had always had time, patience, and a perfect way of explaining to 18-and 19- year old freshmen about how to go about analyzing literature.

And now, two years later, she was finding out that the internship or whatever, wherever Sansa had gone had made her teaching even better. 

Did you know that Colleen was in this class? Oh wait. Of course you did.

The note her friend, Sara, slid across their shared table jarred her out of taking notes as Professor Stark lectured.

She flipped Sara off as discreetly as she could even as her eyes flickered two rows ahead of her own and three seats to the left. And a wistful sigh escaped her. 

It’s not like she’d known Colleen would be in the class for certain - even though she had a work study job at the registrar office. But she’d thought it would be a pretty good bet, considering Colleen Durand had been in almost all of the social lit electives most semesters. She knew, because of all of these shared classes, that Colleen’s minor was in literature, just like Eliza’s was.

Though Colleen was an Anthropology major, unlike herself. She liked that about her, enough to have spent about two hours reading about what the fuck economic anthropology -- Colleen’s specialty -- was a year and a half ago, when they first shared a class. The first time she’d tossed back her honey blonde hair all perfectly tousled and readjusted her perfect posture as she sat in a front row seat and took immaculate notes -

(notes that Eliza had managed the courage last semester to ask to borrow even though she hadn’t needed them. Using it as a conversation starter was pretty much moot, though, when she then psyched herself out and like. She borrowed the notes, which meant that now, Colleen thought she was dumb or something? Like she couldn’t take her own notes? And then her dumbass roommate at the time had spilled coffee on her desk and got it on Colleen’s pristine notebook)

Peeking up to make sure she wasn’t about to be caught sneaking notes like she was in fourth grade, she scrawled back, We’ve been in class for three weeks and you’re just noticing?

Sara had no qualms about being caught. Well, unlike you, I don’t have a radar for her. It’s not my head that pops up the second she steps into the dining hall, like some bloodhound who caught a scent.

You make me sound like a stalker. Now shut up before Prof Stark notices.

Calm down. She’s chill as fuck. And you make yourself sound like a stalker. golden haired goddess. the light dusting of freckles on her nose. her cute cardigans. those perfectly elegant long fingers that write those amazing notes -

The last thing Eliza wanted was to lose any respect from Sansa and definitely didn’t want to get called out in front of Colleen, who most assuredly already thought she was a dumbass.

Even if she had 0 chances with that gorgeous specimen of a woman, she didn’t want her to think she was a true moron. Also:

YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD NEVER BRING UP DRUNK ELIZA’S POETIC WAXING

Shit u right. But I never promised I wouldn’t bring up drunk Eliza being upsetti spaghetti - “i bet shes probably straight. i hate that she prob thinks im dumb. i have an internship in the red keep!!!!! shes not the kind of person who would care about my twitter. i have over 10000 followers!! i am FUNNY! but she is too good for my dumb lesbian human humor!” what does that even mean -

Friendship canceled, thanks for your service. Your severance package is the nothing you deserve.

She turned to rip the paper away from Sara before she could write anything back, just in time to notice the back door to the room creak open. Which was kinda weird because -- what is the point of coming to class if you’re a half hour late?

She flickered her eyes to the front of the room, noticing that Professor Stark’s back was to the room as she wrote on the SmartBoard. This interloper was pretty fucking luck-

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide.

She started hitting Sara’s thigh under the table, in rapid succession. She and Sara met two years ago, when they’d joined the LGBT Alliance on campus and they’d bonded immediately. For several reasons, one of which being that they were both political science majors.

Political science majors who’d both moved to King’s Landing for college and met the year that Margaery Tyrell came out as a lesbian and won the Small Council election and announced very publicly that she was dating the very professor standing in the front of the room at this very moment.

To say that she (and Sara) spearheaded the online community when it came to freaking out over Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark’s relationship as two stunning, brilliant, fucking amazing women who were soft as fuck together, would be an understatement. And despite the facts that they lived in the same city, that she took a class with 1/2 of the ultimate power couple, and that she had an internship at the workplace of the other, she’d yet to see them in the same physical space.

Until now.

“Seven hells, what,” Sara hissed in a whisper as she grabbed the hand slapping her thigh.

All she could do was point behind Sara, as Margaery fucking Tyrell - as gorgeous as ever - slid discreetly into the seat in the back corner of the room.

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

Margaery had enjoyed King’s Landing University in her time here. She’d enjoyed her courses for the most part and some of her peers. Mostly, she’d enjoyed conquering college as a part of conquering yet another step on the journey of her life.

But for as much as she enjoyed her time here when she was done, she hadn’t looked back. It was a footnote on her way to the rest of her life, regardless of how fun or successful a footnote it was.

The first time she’d stepped back into the KLU campus had been almost three years ago, that first fateful time she’d tracked down Sansa after they’d had sex. Back when Sansa had been a TA stuck in her little office, looking unbearably hot and cute all at once in her glasses and sweater.

Now, Sansa was still looking hot and cute all at once, as she commanded this class. Her girlfriend stood in the front of the tiered seats and she no longer was flustered or seemed at all nervous about being in front of the group. No, she was in control, and the form-fitting black top with her hair pulled over her shoulder was just doing delicious things to Margaery.

She paused in the middle of her lecture to laugh at a comment made by a studious looking blonde sitting in the front row. And Margaery sighed, unable and unwilling to stop the smile that took over her face as she turned her head to watch Sansa.

Even though her girlfriend had been officially teaching at KLU for almost a month, this was the first time Margaery’s schedule allowed for her to witness it.

She’d seen Sansa pace around their apartment in the evenings before starting the 3 courses she was teaching, practicing bits and pieces of her analysis. She’d laid in their bed, stroking her hand over Sansa’s stomach, as her girlfriend had excitedly told her about her students and the insights they’d had.

Moving in together a few months ago was truly the most genius idea Margaery had ever had.

But today? Her Small Council meeting had been pushed back for two hours. Which perfectly opened up the time for her to witness the final hour of Sansa leading her Women in Contemporary Westerosi Lit class.

“Thank you, Jess, for bringing up Lauren Ambrose’s use of metaphor. I want you to break into your new groups that I emailed to you over the weekend and spend five minutes going over the notes you should have from last weeks reading to come up with any metaphors you found and then we’re going to play a little game with them. Eliza, Colleen, and Michael. Sara, Alysanne, Jon. So on and so forth.”

The students rearranged themselves as Margaery stayed hidden in the back of the room, watching with rapt attention. As Sansa turned from lecture to analyzing the text through a question-dodgeball type game she must have made up.

Even though Margaery hadn’t expected to be bored - because she could watch Sansa do anything and everything and not be bored. Even brushing her teeth, somehow. But she was actually interested in the material, the way Sansa spoke about it.

The hour flew by and at the end of it, as everyone was starting to pack up their belongings, Margaery made her move.

She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Professor Stark. Any homework?”

She was fairly certain she heard one student state, “I’m dying,” but she was mostly focused on the way Sansa turned, eyebrows already high on her forehead because Margaery knew she recognized her voice.

Gods, but she loved those blue eyes and the way they widened. She smirked as she saw the way her girlfriend’s lightly glossed lips parted in surprise.

“What...” Sansa held her eyes for a long moment before she shook her head. She ran her eyes over her students who were starting to depart. “Um - your assigned reading is online. You all know my office hours if you have any questions about your next paper. Thanks for the, um,” those eyes flickered back to Margaery’s and held, “The discussion.”

She waited a few moments, just watching Sansa make her hands busy by gathering her papers at the front desk, furtively throwing looks over at Margaery. She waited until the majority of the students were gone, with just a couple young women taking their time in the front, before she gathered her jacket over her arm and slid her bag over her shoulder and made her way down.

“What are you doing here? It’s Tuesday, you have your Small Council meeting at 10:30?” 

She never thought she would love having someone know her schedule by heart and check in with her about it. But damn, she loved that Sansa knew it all.

She loved knowing Sansa’s. She loved knowing she could look up at the clock on a given day and know, in general, what Sansa was up to. She even loved sharing a Google calendar.

“It was postponed, so I hightailed it to see my -” she slid her gaze to the group of students that she clocked as purposefully taking forever to pack up, and held back the myriad of adjectives that she would save for when they didn’t have an audience. It was something they were still getting used to. “- beautiful girlfriend. I just really wanted to see you in action.”

Sansa did that biting her lip and swaying a little closer thing that Margaery still adored, “What’d you think?”

She swayed a little closer and consciously lowered her voice. “I think... that I absolutely understand what exactly you meant when you say that watching me in action does something to you.”

Sansa, always genius, keenly caught on to keeping her voice so low and mirrored her, “Oh yeah? You want me to talk about metaphor in the bedroom?”

Margaery lifted an eyebrow, considering. “You know... I wouldn’t hate it.”

The giggle-snort that left Sansa made her stomach dip as she laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you have time for lunch?” Sansa reached out and tangled their fingers easily, Margaery’s hand instinctively turning to take her girlfriends.

It was the worst timing for her watch to beep, signifying the timer she’d left for herself in order to cut back through the city to the Keep in time for her meeting.

Genuinely regretful - they didn’t get enough lunches together lately - she sighed. “Not today. But dinner - I’ll bring it.”

Sansa smiled warmly at her, squeezing her hand. She gave her students a fleeting look, before she tugged Margaery in and pressed those soft, pink lips to hers.

She hummed in contentment as she pulled back. “I’ll see you at home, darling.”

She stole another kiss before she left with a grin.

[deer-mi]

4/18/2020

Dear Basil,

I know this is a terrible place to start an online journal. Why not write on an actual notebook meant for writing or continue using google docs? I have tried all of these solutions, as you may remember, but none of them really fit me. My thoughts were mostly drowned by my oncoming documents, and my terrible handwriting has made it hard for me to reread my thoughts and feelings. I know that I will probably forget to update this later but at least  where i write the thing will be consistent.

Its not like you will read this, anyways. You’re fake. Just a place holder for a person that doesn’t exist. I may look at this later and cringe but i guess that is just life. People change everyday. Good ideas are then reveal to be bad once the sun illuminates the room and sleep resets the mind. I will also shamelessly use purple prose depending on my mood.

Today I thought it would be a good productive day. I was supposed to talk with my friends in a hangouts meeting. We do this every two weeks since we aren’t seeing each other daily at school. Its nice hearing their voices but I really don’t know what to center our conversations on. If our conversation were recorded there would usually be times where the audio would be devoid of voices. Just the rustling sounds of paper, or vigorous typing. 

It frustrates me because whenever Joanna talks to her friends, their conversations are so natural. It flows so smoothly. One witty comment at a time. While I am busy trying to think up conversation starters, she’s busy chatting away for two hours.

I guess I am just not very good at conversation. A part of me just needs to be payed attention to, I think. When I was talking today, none of my friends could hear my jokes (which were more than half of the things we talked about) and I was mildly desperate for them to hear me. I interrupt people just to make a joke that overall seems out of place. I realized that I do this soley when I am talking to my friends. In person or not. Then when somebody tries to talk to me about a certain topic they find interesting I blank and respond awkwardly. Often, stopping the conversation as a whole. Lately, its been harder to think up topics. It would be easier to not talk at all, but I desperately miss their voices.

And then after that, I became irritated at everything. It first really began when I asked Joanna to wash the dishes. She reasoned that since she was planning to make cake it would be much more inconvenient to wash the dishes. I legit started crying. How pathetic. I then started to yell at every annoying thing thing. My mom even asked why it seemed I was frustrated at everything. Sucks right!

(not to mention that u just yelled at my brother, a few minutes ago when he demanded for the computer)

Washing the dishes wasn’t that bad. I analyzed myself during that time and may have come to a reason as to why I always feel bad about myself. A part of it is because my sister is always correct. I don’t know why that affects me so much. I think it is because I have always worshipped my sister in a way saying that if her opinion is different than mine then its not valid. Also that I was always wrong with everything when it came to facts and logic.

She made logical sense when she said that washing the dishes two times throughout the day would be less easier then washing her baking materials and dinner plates together. I didn’t feel it was fair though. I felt like I have done so many kind things and that she owed me for that. I knew this was a flawed way of thinking so I couldn’t even argue my way out of it. But it did make me feel stupid and angry. It  was just me make taking the situation personally.

A part of me also wants to say my PMS was a part of the problem. I haven’t had it in a month maybe. and this could be my first sign that it is coming soon. Maybe tomorrow I will wake up with a bloody pants.

I am trying to learn to not invalidate my negative emotions. And that the anger I at my sister should not be filed away at the back of my brain. it should be dealt with properly and healthily.

I am making the goal to have more patience when I am feeling this way. I already stop myself when I feel like I am snapping, but i need to think before I speak.

Today was a bad day. A pure 4/10 but tommorow will be better. I will make it a better day.

Sincerely, IANG (also find out how to make the read more header thingy)

[killcapitalizm]

the louvre (no tw); peter parker

request; can you do an imagine where reader has a crush on peter even though he and michelle were dating in high school (which makes the reader distance themselves from the group) and after they graduate, peter finds them and says that he and michelle didn’t work out? then the reader finds out it was because he liked the reader the whole time. sorry if this is confusing and super long!!

word count; 2,981

warnings; angst, this wasnt edited

a/n; SSCREAMS IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ugh im disappointed in myself.. theres gonna be more parts to this im currently writing the next one dw. listened to the louvre by lorde while writing this. love u

tags; @kaliforniacoastalteens

Your name: submit What is this?

You had supposedly gotten over Peter a few months ago, when you'd accepted the fact that he and MJ– or rather, Michelle, you remembered, she's Michelle to me now, isn't she– were dating and you'd finally ceased intentional contact with him after painfully long weeks of being too busy, too sick, too tired, too hurt; and you have yet to admit that last one. With Peter's absence of course came Michelle's, they were a couple and therefore somewhat of a packaged deal. That was no surprise to you, when you regretfully unwound yourself from Peter you had known that you'd lose Michelle, too. What you hadn't expected was the sudden absence of Ned– someone who you had grown quite close to. Even Liz was separated from you, so subtly you nearly hadn't noticed she was gone. In the first few seconds of hurt and loneliness and confusion, you were awfully lost. But then you considered: you met Ned and Liz through Peter and indeed they were closer to him than you'd ever be, ever been. And so you start from scratch.

You tried your absolute best to make some friends in each of your classes. You swallowed that familiar feeling of fear-filled blankness and managed to talk to one person in each of your classes. They all had their own pre-established friend groups that you knew you wouldn't be able to be a part of, but you gratefully settled for acquaintances that would give you a partner in class and someone to ask for notes when you were out for a day or two. You lived without a friend for the last four months of your senior year, right up to graduation where you saw Peter and Michelle kiss under the shade of a city tree in front of the school and then you caught Ned's eye later and his mirrored yours, but softer. Never before had you weeped over being unable to text a friend about how entirely shitty you felt because your mother was angry again and, more importantly, you missed them, but in that summer you stained your pillow at midnight as your back and legs and chest ached as if they were holding your bruising sorrows. Your parents weren't home that night when you were crying, crying for hours into the early, early morning. You cried until you had no more tears to cry, and you simply wailed to yourself, exhausted an drowsy but unable to sleep because you felt too terrible to be able to rest. Those kinds of nights don't happen often but you hate that they happen at all.

On your first day of your new job at a popular bookstore, you were glad it was chilly so that your red eyes and nose and cheeks were excusable. You brought eye drops and hoped the red would drain from your face before anybody noticed that it wasn't the cold causing it and you told yourself that if it did fade then you wouldn't have that night for another two months, and when you walked in you saw no one you knew until you turned your head and saw Ned, you saw Ned in the soft yellow light of the morning and you nearly cried because you saw him like that many times before, with Peter at sleepovers when you'd wake up early and again with Peter again when you'd walk to school with them. He saw you and smiled at you, and didn't look away in that don't-talk-to-me way but instead he glanced down at the empty area next to him behind the register then back up at you. You were terrified in that anxious, empty way but you yearned for a familiar friendship, so you walked over to him and spoke too much right away.

"I've missed you." You didn't sound polite or happy and that's what made it sincere.

"Oh, thank god," Ned says. "I thought it was one-sided."

"Is it?" You ask still, but you're smiling brightly for the first time since you cleared your phone contacts.

Ned snorts. "I would assume you'd infer from what I said that it's not, but whatever. I've missed you, too."

It was in that moment that Ned forgave you; in the same moment he realized there was anything to forgive you for. While Peter had dejectedly told him you were probably avoiding him because of something he did (Ned knew it was because he was together with MJ), he had still missed you without an answer, missed you in the same way you'd miss a friend the night after a sleepover, when you turn in your bed in heavy solitude and whisper to the wall that they hadn't slept next to, because if you'd look to the space where their mumbles had been then you wouldn't sleep all night. Your absence had him turn over to the wrong wall, and that hurt him.

You remember the time Ned had accidentally tripped you in gym class back in your junior year and you saw him nearly cry, then you spoke again. "I'm sorry." For what, Y/N? You try again, "I'm sorry for leaving you and not talking to you. That you had to miss me. I missed you a lot. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," says Ned, "I forgive you." He forgave you twice, because he hadn't realized how satisfyingly pleasant it feels when someone doesn't have to apologize but they do with their heart.

"Thank you," you say, because he welcomed you after you had cut him off for so long and he shouldn't have smiled so dearly at you, and you're grateful.

Ned helps you with your new job that day, then that week, and into the next week. You add his number back onto your phone and write it down in your journal that you've stopped writing in ever since Peter told you with so much joy and love that he was dating Michelle. You try not to think of them, just of how much you missed him and her each as their own. If you think of them, then that night you'd weep and weep until you felt so pained and sick that you shook, curling up and holding yourself as you hoped you'd fall asleep. You don't tell Ned about those nights and you don't ask about them, you don't ask about Peter at all but you know he's talking about him when he says "my friend," or more often, "a buddy of mine."

But Ned is smart, and he knows you had liked Peter back then and because you never ask about his friend (he knows that you know who he's talking about), he knows you like him now. He also knows that Peter and MJ broke up, he knows why and how and when and where and the boy was a boy of the Earth, he is rooted to the ground and because of that he knows it's not his place to tell you all of that. Ever-growing with the kindest smile, he knows that Peter needs to tell you himself if you're to ever know. And he wants you to know, so he decides that five weeks of talking daily with you, after reattaching yourself to him and him to you, that he'd start to reconnect you and Peter. He starts off conveniently.

"Look, dude, just get it over with and you'll feel better… What? Peter, no, you need a job, you're eighteen now–" Ned spots you walk in early one Thursday morning and talks just loud enough into his phone so that you could hear him say Peter. Surely enough, you duck your head as if you hadn't been listening. His name out of Ned's mouth, so bright like you remembered it, twists your heart. "Hey, man, I gotta go and you do too. You got this, I know you do. See ya'."

You stop beside Ned as he hangs up and tucks his phone into his back pocket. As always, you greet him with the biggest smile you can manage. These days, it's been some of your brightest, full ear-to-ear grins, but today you barely show your teeth. He notices and for a second he rethinks his plan, but you still love Peter and he knows he loves you too so he keeps going. "What was that all about?" You instantly regret that, but it flew out of your mouth before you could think of another conversation starter.

"Peter, actually," he does his best to sound gentle, but you inhale sharply at his name anyway. "He's going for a job interview later today and he's panicking again. As always. But I know he'll do just fine."

You were silent for a second too long, quickly spitting out something when you realized it. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, he was always like that… panicky. 'N stuff. Before things. He always did good and… yeah." You straighten your back and shift your weight from leg to leg, a poor attempt at looking casual that really just made you look just as nervous as you felt. You were looking down at Ned's shirt with a pleading gaze that he surely saw, begging him silently to just leave it be, to change topics, to not say his name again. He saw all of that, but he knew he had to.

He looked sympathetically at you as he spoke again, "Speaking of him, I think we should all meet up sometime or whatever. It's been a really long time since we hung out." He sounded like he was hurt, feeling awful for putting this on you but knowing it'll end up better in the end if you're willing to work with him.

You, on the other hand, sounded genuinely wounded. "Y-Yeah." You nearly wheezed. Unconsciously, your hand rested on your hip, angled so that your palm was more on the back of your hip. Ever since you could remember, emotional stress would center at your back and slowly start to crawl down your limbs. Always starting in your lower back, it ached with whatever you felt, then burned its way up, making the spot between your shoulders sore, then shooting down to your legs. If Ned insisted on talking about this for very long, you'd have to bring a stool to the register with you today. "I mean, I don't really think… he'd want to see me. After what I did."

"Actually, he really misses you." Gosh, he was trying so hard to be soft, but it felt like he was smothering you with a pillow. While he wasn't lying, he hadn't actually told Peter he's been hanging out with you. "He'd love to meet up sometime– I'll ask him later today. You can set the date."

"He…" misses me? you finish in your head. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, blood rushing up your neck and kicking your brain, then rushing back down before starting again. You were growing a bit of a headache, maybe from staying up late last night but maybe the aches were skipping your limbs today and getting right to your head, towards the back where it wouldn't let you lay down on your back later. "Uh… Yeah. Y-Yeah, I'll– I… Sure. Sometime."

Ned watched your discomfort with a wince that went unnoticed. He reminded himself it would get worse before it got better. "Anyway, we should start preparing. We open in an hour," he said, trying to edge you away from the topic, although it was too late to stop the images and memories of Peter from firmly planting themselves in your head. You nodded once, slightly, then again with more motion. That day, you made sure to never be seen without a water bottle so that you had an excuse when someone asked you why you were going to the bathroom so much. You'd go when your started thinking too much, to the point that it interfered with your ability to shelve books and even think to yourself a single, coherent thought. You'd excuse yourself, rush in, and find yourself gasping for air that you hadn't realized you lost.

You went home that day feeling more alone than not, despite the sudden vague reconnection with Peter. But you shouldn't be surprised, the thought of the boy has been a presence of loneliness for a while now. When you think of him, it's as if you're thinking yourself into a void, where you detach from the Earth, as if you exist in your body but your body does not exist in the world and it simply moves around in it. Sometimes you suspect that because you feel something so drastic and real that Peter wasn't the only cause of it, but it did you better to not think too deeply so that you don't return to work the next day with red eyes and darkish bags that hung underneath them. You went home that day and asked Ned to call you, because you hid your tears from him and knew that if he were with you in any way that you would be able to keep your promise of two months of freedom. When Ned was gone, you moved to the TV to distract you. Then you pulled out your phone and decided to read something, then opened up your laptop to watch a YouTube video, and after a minute you retrieved a book to read and a comic to look at– you were doing everything and nothing at once but what you weren't doing was sobbing and that was, in the end, what you wanted. You trembled a bit when you settled in bed that night, your body detached from the Earth for a while when you panicked in your (too) many thoughts of Peter and other things, although you don't remember what those other things are because its easier to just say one thing, despite him being the hardest thing to say at all. You had to stumble out of bed and lay on the ground– on your side because the very back of your head still hurt– look at things in your room one at a time, then listen to things outside one at a time, tell yourself what apricots and your favorite tea taste like before you could finally feel the carpet beneath you again. Your head spun with busyness and contradictions as you got back in bed, but you slept right away and that was all left to touch in the morning.

And Ned was true to his word; when he had to hang up to catch a bus, he made sure to text Peter when he got a seat. It took him ten tries, but he decided to bluntly tell Peter that he's been talking to you, and then gently ease into his proposal of hanging out again. Then, because he stayed with Peter in those months you were gone, he felt it was right to hook another text onto that one: he knew you felt something for him, and he told Peter that he didn't knew exactly what you were feeling (and that you probably didn't either) but that it was something reminiscent of strong love, broken love, fear, and a lot of missing him. You had looked bewildered at the mention of Peter, and he told him that, too. Told him that he should try with you. Told him that you needed him to try with you, or, at the very least, you needed him (not him, but him there, you needed his nearness, the familiarity Ned had fulfilled had to be filled by more than just him). And Peter answered with time, so he went back to the usual, being the Earth boy he always was, sleeping close to the ground on the first floor of a cheap apartment that looked magical later that week when he taped up all of his posters and switched out the bright, fluorescent white lights for the yellowed lights he always preferred because they look more like sunlight.

So Peter, in his dress shirt and nice pants and new shoes, sitting with his back straight against the wall near the entrance of his apartment, still sweating from the conversation that had happened hours earlier, closed his eyes and remembered you in the moonlight like you had remembered him and Ned in the sunlight, he remembered those many late night conversations he had with you in which he was filled to the brim with nothing but nerves and stress and anxiety, he remembered how you'd remind him all night and day and week that he was important and needed and okay and here, on this planet, in this town, living and breathing and growing and that he's not as small as he felt nor as big as he fears. He remembered how you'd call him sunshine, sunshine and he told Ned that he needs you because he wants to hear that again. A sky boy he was– he was constricted and bound by his own breathing so he threw off his clothes, pulled on his suit of red and blue, and sprinted across the roof of a long, tall building so he could jump off and then web himself to the next building. He toppled over and rolled along the hard surface of what was probably some apartment complex, he stared up at the last sky blues for the day and panted. His throat burned with his wheezes, but soon he smelled the city and smiled, deep in his mind he was sure that you'd call him sunshine, sunshine again soon. He slept long after you and Ned had fallen to slumber, after flying around buildings and waving at an infant and helping an older couple catch their bus.