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cinnaminsvga · 2 months ago

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25 | valedictorian!namjoon

25. ❝ things you said in front of other people❞ genre: angst // words: 2.3K a/n: happy belated bday to joonbug... keep healthy and stay safe, many people are rooting for you (that's @ you, my dear reader)

The truth of the matter was that… Namjoon was stupid.

It was an undeniable fact that he has lived with for the entirety of his life so far. He could read hundreds of books on every topic under the sun, but it would never erase the cloying idiocy that seemed to cling to him like the plague.

No one could ever tell he didn’t try, though. He studied hard, from mathematics to poetry, in hopes of honing his skills. He asked to be enrolled into the Kumon program when he was six, for crying out loud. When other kids his age were collecting Pokémon cards and watching Dragon Ball, he was sharpening the blade… of his mind. It was nerdy, loser-like behavior, but he didn’t care. Or at least, that’s what he convinced himself to believe.

It was easier to swallow the pain of a lost childhood to academics when he could trick himself into thinking that he wanted to become smarter, that’s all. Perhaps it was this fallacy that led him down this road of stupidity, but Namjoon didn’t want to think too hard about it. At least, not anymore. It felt like it was too late to cry over spilled milk at this point.

After all, it was his last day of university, officially. He was one step away from entering the gates of adulthood, his shoulders already sagging from the idea of being an overworked salaryman. He was sitting quietly outside the graduation ceremony hall, watching as classmates that he’s known for the better part of four-ish years walked around campus in their sweeping black togas. Occasionally, echoes of “congratulations!” and “you did it!” were directed towards him as they sent their regards. Their gaze would then sweep down to the semi-crumpled piece of paper in his sweaty hands, which held the words he would utter in front of the entire student body in just a few short hours.

He hadn’t seen you around yet. This year’s graduating class seemed larger than ever, though Namjoon suspected that his growing nausea had more to do with the speech than the actual number of students. The thought of public speaking had never unnerved him before—years of debate club had strengthened his resolve and decades of bullying had hardened his heart. He would never quiver before a crowd, but today was different. Today, you would be there. You were always the difference when it came to him.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to see you before the ceremony. If you had walked up to him, smiling and effortlessly bright as always, all the nerves he’d painstakingly held together over the past two weeks might have crumbled right there. For some reason, you made him so damn stupid, but he could never fault you for that. It was definitely a skill issue, as his friend Jungkook liked to say.

It was funny, in a tragic sort of way. This was the first time in his entire life that he regretted studying so hard. If he hadn’t been so obsessive about his grades, then perhaps he wouldn’t have become valedictorian. Then, he wouldn’t have been approached, no, forced by the school dean to have the honor of delivering the graduation speech this year.

He’d always been fascinated by the butterfly effect—small decisions creating ripples with larger consequences. It was poetic in theory. In reality, it was nothing short of brutal. If he hadn’t spent his whole life focused on books and tests, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up here, teetering on the edge of a confession he wasn’t even sure he was brave enough to give.

Because of course, it wasn’t the crowd he feared. It was you.

You, with your easy smiles and the way you always managed to be in the right place at the right time. You, who had been there for him since freshman year, had quietly burrowed a space inside his chest and decided to call it home.

Namjoon had never been good with people. Socializing was an art he couldn’t grasp, a dance he didn’t know the steps to. But you made it look so effortless. And for years, he had told himself that he couldn’t risk it—that he couldn’t jeopardize what little connection he had with you by saying the wrong thing, by stumbling through a conversation the way he always did.

So he stayed silent, letting the moments slip by. And now, it was too late. You were both graduating. He’d spent all this time standing on the sidelines, watching as life moved forward, always assuming there’d be more time to figure it out.

But the end was fast approaching.

In a matter of hours, you’d both walk across the stage and into lives that likely wouldn’t intersect as easily. This graduation could be the last time he saw you, the last time he’d have a reason to talk to you without it feeling forced.

He knew he had to say something, anything. He had spent too long letting his feelings fester, too long hiding behind his books. This speech, this moment, was his last chance to tell you how much you meant to him. Even if you never understood the full weight of his words, he needed to say them. He could act like a fool in front of the entire world for all he cared. He just needed to know that he tried.

He could feel his neck growing hot as the volunteer ushers called for everyone to take their positions as they all prepared for the procession. He was placed near the front of the queue as expected, given that he’d need to sit right at the front to make it easier for him to take the stage. He was surrounded by more familiar faces, their lips curved into smiles despite the way their eyes were digging daggers into his chest.

But Namjoon was undeterred. In fact, their jealousy only fueled his determination.

You were likely somewhere behind him, just one face among a sea of hundreds. He probably wouldn’t even be able to spot you from his seat, nor when he would go to stand in front. It’s for the best, he argued to himself, but a small part of him wished you were by his side, much like how you always had been.

The blaring, triumphant procession music sounded like static in his ears as he robotically made his way to his assigned seat. His parents were somewhere in the stands, but he didn’t have the willpower to look around for them. He was dead set on calming his thundering heart, and seeing the mildly impressed expression of his Korean father wouldn’t exactly be the boost of confidence that he needed.

It will all be over in no time, said the hopeful part of himself. It sounded strangely like your voice.

More like I will be over in no time, said the self-sabotaging part of himself. This one sounded just like him. The one who put him in this mess in the first place.

The president of the university was giving his well-wishes. He stood and clapped and bowed when instructed, but he was focusing most of his brain power trying not to vomit and die. That wouldn’t be a good look, even for him. The world was growing hazy and unfocused, and it felt like the ceiling was going to come crashing down on him. He would welcome that ending, at this point.

Namjoon swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the bottle of water he’d drained before the ceremony. He could feel the weight of the folded speech in his clasped hands, the corners pressing into his palm like tiny daggers. He wasn’t sure what was more terrifying: standing in front of hundreds of people, or the fact that his heart was laid bare between the lines of his carefully constructed words.

The applause died down. He faintly registered that the university president was calling his name. He stood, legs shaking, and made his way to the podium. The walk felt endless, each step dragging him further into the spotlight, further into the unknown. He couldn’t run now, not with the eyes of his peers, professors, and—you—on him.

He adjusted the microphone, his hands trembling as he unfolded the speech. The words blurred momentarily, but he forced himself to focus. He took a breath. And then another.

“I…uh…” He coughed, clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, everyone.”

The crowd was silent, waiting.

“I stand here today, not just as a student, but as someone who’s grown alongside all of you. We’ve faced challenges together, celebrated victories, and somehow survived the never-ending deadlines. Dear god, the deadlines…” Namjoon started, hazarding a tentative smile.

A few chuckles echoed back at him. He felt a sliver of relief, but it wasn’t enough to ease the squirrel doing jump-and-jacks in his stomach.

“Today is supposed to be a day of closure, a final chapter before we all move on to new beginnings. But I think… not everything in life wraps up so neatly. Some things, the things that matter most, tend to linger with you. They stay in your mind, in your heart, even when you’re not sure how to express them.”

He shifted slightly, his grip tightening on the edges of the podium.

“I’ve learned a lot over these past few years—about hard work, perseverance, and how to navigate life’s uncertainties. But perhaps the most valuable lesson has been about people. About the quiet impact someone can have on your life without them ever realizing it. How sometimes, you don't even realize it yourself until it’s too late.”

He paused, the words feeling heavier than they had in his rehearsals.

“There are moments that leave an impression on you. A smile, a shared laugh, a conversation at just the right time. These things can change the course of your day—maybe even the course of your life. And we don’t always get the chance to say how much those moments meant.”

Namjoon’s gaze swept the crowd, but for a fraction of a second, his eyes landed in the general area where he thought you might be sitting. He quickly looked away before anyone could notice.

“So, while this is a time for celebration and new opportunities, I’d like to encourage everyone to remember the people who’ve helped shape who we are today. After all, we are nothing if not a sum of all our parts. All of us were built by every shard of wisdom and experience that have been gifted to us by our professors, our esteemed staff, our classmates, our family… and our loved ones.” Namjoon’s voice nearly cracked at the end, his throat seizing with unspoken emotion. He shook his head imperceptibly, pushing himself just a little more.

I’m almost at the finish line. Find courage, Kim Namjoon.

“As we reach the end of our journey, wherever the rest of our lives may take us, we must never forget to thank the ones who were there quietly, maybe when we needed them the most, even if we never said a word. They’re the ones who matter most in the end.”

A soft murmur rippled through the crowd, but Namjoon pressed on, his mind spinning as he forced himself to keep going.

“We may not always get the chance to go back and say the things we never said. But if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll find the courage to express what’s been in your heart before it’s too late.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, hoping that somehow, in the sea of faces, you would understand what he couldn’t quite say aloud.

“Thank you, to all those people. You’ve made all the difference.”

Namjoon descended from the podium with shaky legs, the sound of polite applause blending into the blood rushing in his ears. He returned to his seat, barely registering the congratulations from his classmates. His chest felt tight, his heart still racing from the speech. The words he had rehearsed so many times now echoed in his mind, and for a moment, he wondered if anyone—if you—had understood what he really meant.

The ceremony continued, speeches blending into each other, names being called in a steady rhythm. Namjoon tried to focus, but it was as if he were outside of himself, watching everything from a distance. His own moment to receive his diploma passed in a blur—the walk across the stage, the handshake with the university president, the obligatory photo—he barely remembered any of it.

But then, as the procession continued, he heard your name.

It was as if Namjoon’s world had tilted on its axis. His fingers gripped the edge of his chair as he watched you make your way to the stage, your calm, steady steps betraying none of the nervous energy he felt. You looked poised, composed—everything he wished he could be.

When you reached the podium, your eyes scanned the front of the crowd. You knew where he was seated, it would only be a matter of time until you—And then, for just a split second, they found his.

The world seemed to slow down. The noise of the crowd, the hum of the microphone, even the faint breeze of the air conditioner rustling through the venue—it all faded away. Namjoon felt his pulse thunder in his ears as your gaze held his, steady and unreadable. He felt faint, like a sudden gust of wind might push him over. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and that terrified him.

He was certain it would end there, just a fleeting moment of eye contact that would leave him overanalyzing for days, wondering what you saw when you looked at him. But then the photographer said something Namjoon could barely hear, and you turned away to take your diploma.

"Smile for the camera!" the photographer called.

You turned back, but not toward the camera. You smiled—not a polite, rehearsed one for the photo, but a soft, genuine smile that lit up your face. And it wasn’t for the photographer. It was for him.

Namjoon’s breath hitched, his mind scrambling to process what had just happened. His heart was pounding again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was something else. Something warmer, something that made the world around him fade even further.

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, but all Namjoon could see was you.

#hi happy weekend i miss namjoon #i wrote this thing in 2.5 hours can you believe that #sometimes i get possessed and go on writing fugues #i come out a littler battered and bruised with a barely coherent story left as my only evidence #perhaps its because i drank coffee for the first time in a while #my caffeine sensitivity has been off the charts ever since ive abstained from them #i have them like twice a month now and every time i do... i start growling like a rabid dog #hence.... this thing i suppose #i designated this drabble with the genre angst but ngl aint it kinda fluffy.... idk its hard for me to tell sometimes #sometimes i say my writing is fluffy and ive received asks in the past telling me i baited them when i didnt mean to ;w;#i guess this drabble is not feel good fluff by definition... it makes me happy tho :D i love pining :D #ANYWAY GOTTA BLAST #icymi

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months ago

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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

#i still keep up to date with sbj's more than human #which she started... in 2009 i think? thats more than a decade ago... i started reading it in 2013 when i was 13 #and you will not believe the scream i let out when i saw she updated a few weeks ago after a two year hiatus #tbf her updates come every few years ago so its always a surprise when she updates and i still eat it up every time #ive grown up with her story for real. and we dont know each other but i care about her #not parasocial btw LMAO but more like... i wish her the best #i want her to be happy and her life to be filled with good things #just like how she made me happy with her words #its so awesome seeing a fanfic author be so... longlived?? when so many of us tend to leave for greener pastures #idk its something to behold!! something to cherish!!!#fanfic writing is sometimes the greatest type of love a person can have. its a love enduring.#abt

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months ago

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Happy Birthday, Namjoon! ♡ (1994.09.12)

#knj #gif

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months ago

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(be BTS' leader, they said...) it's gonna be great, they said.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the most beloved leader, KIM NAMJOON ♡ cr. jung-koook, 0613data

#knj #gif

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months ago

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Happy birthday, Namjoon (12.09.1994)✨

#knj #gif

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months ago

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25 | valedictorian!namjoon

The truth of the matter was that… Namjoon was stupid.

Because of course, it wasn’t the crowd he feared. It was you.

But the end was fast approaching.

But Namjoon was undeterred. In fact, their jealousy only fueled his determination.

It will all be over in no time, said the hopeful part of himself. It sounded strangely like your voice.

More like I will be over in no time, said the self-sabotaging part of himself. This one sounded just like him. The one who put him in this mess in the first place.

He adjusted the microphone, his hands trembling as he unfolded the speech. The words blurred momentarily, but he forced himself to focus. He took a breath. And then another.

“I…uh…” He coughed, clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, everyone.”

The crowd was silent, waiting.

A few chuckles echoed back at him. He felt a sliver of relief, but it wasn’t enough to ease the squirrel doing jump-and-jacks in his stomach.

He shifted slightly, his grip tightening on the edges of the podium.

He paused, the words feeling heavier than they had in his rehearsals.

Namjoon’s gaze swept the crowd, but for a fraction of a second, his eyes landed in the general area where he thought you might be sitting. He quickly looked away before anyone could notice.

I’m almost at the finish line. Find courage, Kim Namjoon.

A soft murmur rippled through the crowd, but Namjoon pressed on, his mind spinning as he forced himself to keep going.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, hoping that somehow, in the sea of faces, you would understand what he couldn’t quite say aloud.

“Thank you, to all those people. You’ve made all the difference.”

But then, as the procession continued, he heard your name.

When you reached the podium, your eyes scanned the front of the crowd. You knew where he was seated, it would only be a matter of time until you—And then, for just a split second, they found his.

"Smile for the camera!" the photographer called.

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, but all Namjoon could see was you.

#bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts angst #namjoon angst #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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