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qslovebot · 4 years ago

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Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #emily prentiss #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer x y/n #cm #aaron hotchner #mutual pining #romance #spencer reid fandom

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spacedlexi · 3 years ago

Note

What are your thoughts on Clem getting a new girlfriend in the graphic novel?

dont talk to me about the comic it doesnt exist

but to honestly answer your question: it pisses me off. for a few reasons:

violet is SUCH a perfectly written match for clem that i cant see either of them with anyone else. i didnt think the writers would Ever be able to write a good love interest for clem esp after s3 but im not kidding when i say violet and her are a perfectly written match. violet is very similar to s3 clem with her trust and abandonment issues, the angry loner who cares but pretends not to to protect themselves from the grief of loss/pain of being left behind, and so they put up walls and push people away. theyre both natural leaders who never wanted that position. loyal. fiercely protective. where javi helped clem learn to trust people again in s3, clem helps violet learn to trust people again in s4. clementine can see herself in violet (the "i know where youre coming from" line), and they help each other. which leads into my second problem with the new comic romance

violet has SEVERE trust and abandonment issues (even more than the other kids who all by default pretty much have trust and abandonment issues), which is obvious even without letting her get taken by the raiders (and is only made that much worse if you do). i cant imagine what it will do to her emotionally to wake up and realize clem is GONE without even SAYING GOODBYE. thats gonna hurt her so bad regardless if you romanced her or not. like clem is their leader now and shes just...leaving?? without telling anyone?? EVEN AJ???? HER ADOPTIVE CHILD??? fuck this stupid ass comic it is SO OUT OF CHARACTER for clem for like a million reasons. like skybound/tillie are saying theyre excited to focus on clems sexuality (which :/) but like to do it theyre really damaging representation that was already THERE and GOOD.

like way to just rip away really nice wlw representation just so you dont have to worry about determinant choices. (violentine is my favorite wlw rep in media theyre just......so nice. so cute but like so natural?? they are so in love and the writing just feels like it really came from the heart like the writers really cared abt their relationship even if it WAS a little rushed but like s4 was rushed in general) every scene they have together just makes me 😳😭😭🥺💕💕💕 no matter how many times i see it

another reason it pisses me off is that like everything else about this comic feels like a cheap rip off of s4!!! like theyre just sweeping s4 under the rug (which imo is the best season) just to rehash it again but BADLY. apparently theres gonna be "evil twins" now theyre REALLY going all in on the s4 rip off

ALSO i just love violet!!! shes a GREAT character. shes funny and mean but meaner than she intends to be. thinks shes not great with people but is a great leader. cares so much even though she pretends not to because shes afraid of being hurt. so she puts up walls to keep people away and it ties into her coming off harsher than she means to, but also longs for connection. also shes better with people than she gives herself credit for esp her interactions with aj so cute. LESBIAN!! got a bit of a gnc thing goin on i love it. her little rainbow pin and untied boots with different colored laces. her voice gideon i love your voice So Much 😳💕

s4 was the perfect end for clementine, and the writers of the last season INTENDED for that to be her ENDING. thats where she spends the rest of her days, surrounded by her found family who love her, safe at the school. shes DONE RUNNING she literally hung up her hat like shes DONE. she NEVER wanted to be on the road shes always longed for a place to be safe with aj and she has it she would never leave.

so yeah this comic is not canon in my eyes and apparently for a lot of other people as well. im just trying to pretend it doesnt exist i wish people would tag it because i want to block it. im glad not many people are even gonna be aware of its existence i wish i was one of them. let me eternal sunshine this shit away please erase it from my mind.

they didnt even draw clems peg on the right side :///// theyre making her grow her hair out :/// fuck off

#you got me rambling lol sorry i just Love violet #and violentine #twdg s4 writers you really made violet one of my all time fave characters in less than 4 episodes shes amazing #the moment she stood between aj and her friends protecting him with her cleaver i fell in love and that was only EPISODE 2 #and the first like 5 minutes of it too shdfjksd i love her #this isnt anything against louis i love him i just think hes a great friend for clem where vi is a great partner #the 3 of them together being best friends is great theyre a great trio #twdg #skybound x #i need a tag for comic talk so i can keep it separate/ignore it #replies with lexi #incognito

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Concubine nhs pt6 / on AO3

��What if you lived here,” the emperor says as he peppers with kisses the crook of Nie Huaisang’s neck. “I could arrange to give you quarters of your own. You’d get to spend your time as you please, you’d only see the people you want to see, and it’d be easier to be together.”

Nie Huaisang hums, tracing patterns on the other man’s sweaty back, enjoying the warmth and closeness. He’s never actually complained against Nie Funyu, but the emperor might have picked up on his reluctance whenever it’s time to go home. Or maybe he didn’t notice, and just wishes to have him more at his disposition. They’ve counted themselves lucky when they could see each other once a week in the nearly two months since they’ve become lovers. The emperor is often busy during the day, and worries too much about Nie Huaisang’s reputation to make him stay at night. He doesn’t want the Nies to get the wrong idea, he’s explained, even if in this case the wrong idea would be the right one.

It’s sweet of him. The emperor would probably be horrified to learn that Nie Funyu has given him spring books, ‘for inspiration’, and encouraged him to ask for advice to Meng Yao, whose mother was a courtesan.

There are many things the emperor doesn’t need to know.

At least, the war against the Wens seems to be going well. Nie Mingjue has captured a strategic city already… though the Wens apparently have shown signs that they might attack the lands under Jiang Fengmian’s protection, and if they succeed that could be a serious threat to commerce. Nie Huaisang has spent a couple of sleepless nights peering over maps, trying to guess what his brother’s strategy might be. They might need to rely on the armies that are under Jin Guangshan’s command, which won’t be pleasant because he’s a prick and difficult to work with, but his son is engaged to the young lady Jiang, so maybe…

“Huaisang, what do you think then?” the emperor asks, rising on one elbow to look at his lover’s face. “About living here?”

“I think your uncle won’t like it.”

“This isn’t about him, and I’ll deal with him if needed. Do you like it?”

A home of his own wouldn’t be unpleasant, Nie Huaisang figures. It would make it harder for people to order him around, and he wouldn’t have to report everything he does when he’s alone with the emperor. On the downside, it means being forced to follow protocol and learn a whole new set of rules to avoid getting in trouble in the imperial palace, where people are ever so attentive to rank and constantly plotting for their own schemes. It also means losing Meng Yao, the only friend he’s managed to make since coming to the capital.

“I don’t want people to think of you badly,” Nie Huaisang says, and means it. He doesn’t like hearing the emperor insulted. “They’ll say you brought in a servant’s son as your whore when you won’t even take a wife.”

“I don’t want a wife, I want you,” the emperor replies with such sincerity that Nie Huaisang can only smile at him and steal a kiss. The emperor allows that kiss, but ends it before it can turn heated, an air of concern on his face. “If you don’t want to live here, just say no.”

“Hm.”

“But if you’re scared of what people might say, then I’ll make this as official as can be. I can’t take you as my wife, but there have been male concubines in the past. You’d have every honour that I can bestow upon you, a monthly allowance, your own quarters, as many servants as you’d like… People would owe you the same respect they’d owe anyone else in my household.”

That’s probably not as much respect as the emperor thinks. Having lived so much of his life as a servant, Nie Huaisang has overheard a lot of gossip and is only too aware of what people say about that sort of situation. He’s heard his father chat with his guests about the many whore of their good friend Jin Guangshan, or share stories about the old emperor and his tragic romance that elicited more laughter than compassion.

And that’s just what nobles share among themselves. Servants are just as ruthless when talking about their masters. Nie Huaisang knows what people said about his father for taking a pretty servant girl into his bed a whole winter, even talking about marrying when she became pregnant, before eventually sending her back to her old job after deciding he didn’t want to divide Nie Mingjue’s inheritance. If Nie Mingjue himself hadn’t become fond of his bastard brother and insisted on seeing him legitimised... and people gossip about that, too.

People are mean.

“What if you change your mind about me?” Nie Huaisang asks.

The emperor looks sad and brings a hand to Nie Huaisang cheek, caressing his face with unbearable tenderness.

“I won’t. I’m sure about the way I feel.”

Nie Huaisang says nothing. People are always sure at first, always ready to say whatever it takes to get a pretty little thing in their bed, until someone prettier comes around and catches their attention…

But the emperor isn’t people. He’s someone who means what he says, and his every action make it clear that this isn’t just about sex. He’s so genuinely happy when they’re chatting, when they’re playing a game, when he gets to make Nie Huaisang try some new food. Even today the emperor was more interested in painting together, and they probably wouldn’t have made love if Nie Huaisang hadn’t seduced him.

Nie Funyu scolded him after the one visit that didn’t end up in bed, accusing him of not putting in the effort, of being selfish, of risking his brother’s life by not giving in to the emperor’s every whims. So now, Nie Huaisang is careful, even though he’s half sure he doesn’t need to be.

The emperor is not like other men.

It’d be easier if he were. It’d be just a transaction, which Meng Yao says is the best way to deal with those situations. When feelings get involved, things become messy, he said, and made Nie Huaisang promise not to do something stupid like falling in love.

It might be too late for that, but Nie Huaisang promised anyway.

“If you don’t want to live here, it’s fine,” the emperor says when Nie Huaisang has been silent for too long. “Just know that I’m willing to give this to you. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“I want to run away with you,” Nie Huaisang replies too fast. “Far away from here, and hide from everyone we’ve ever known.”

The emperor sits up, a sad smile on his lips. It’s unfair that he’s beautiful even when he’s sad.

It unfair that Nie Huaisang can’t have the only thing he really wants.

“What about your brother?”

Nie Huaisang stretches, and wrinkles his nose. It’s getting late, he realises, looking through the window. He needs to wash and get dressed so he can leave. He doesn’t want to.

“I guess Mingming is allowed to visit us sometimes. But only if he’ll keep the secret.”

With a short laugh, the emperor takes Nie Huaisang’s hand and helps him sit up as well, before stealing a kiss.

“And my brother?”

“I don’t know. Would you miss him?”

“Very much so.”

“Then he can visit as well,” Nie Huaisang generously allows. “In fact, he can even live with us, but he’ll have to do his share of work. Can he hunt?”

“Wangji is a strict vegetarian.”

“So what? Plenty of people eat meat who can’t hunt. He could hunt and not eat meat. I’ve heard people say he’s amazing with a bow. If he lives with us, he can go hunt for rare furs, that will make us some nice money. I can sell my services as an accountant or something of the sort. And you… well, you can just stay home and write poetry, you’re good at that.”

“A kind way to say I don’t have any useful skill!” the emperor complains, pulling him close for a kiss that’s more laughter than anything else.

For a moment, Nie Huaisang thinks that the kiss will lead to more, but the emperor is too serious and reasonable for that. Instead he gets a soft towel to clean Nie Huaisang’s body until the only traces of their lovemaking are a few red bites. They both have other things to do. The emperor must lead his people, and Nie Huaisang must humiliate himself by sharing more than he’d like about his intimate life with his father's cousin.

As they both get dressed, the emperor chats quietly, trying to figure out when they might be together again. There are some important celebrations coming up, and he needs to hear the grievances of a great number of officials and supplicants because of the trouble caused by the Wens. It probably will be two weeks before he can make time again, if not more.

Two weeks feels like a very long time. Not only will Nie Huaisang miss the emperor, but he’ll have to deal with his cousin’s temper, who is sure to be upset by this long pause in their acquaintance.

“Xichen, I’ve decided what I want,” Nie Huaisang says as he finishes tying his robes. The emperor looks at him with a puzzled air, as if he’s already forgotten what they were talking about. Then, as he remembers, his expression turns hopeful, so much that Nie Huaisang can only smile. “I want to live here, with you. As your concubine, your servant, your whore, I don’t care, I just want…”

He can’t finish, because the emperor crosses the distance between them and kisses him as if his life depends on it.

They do end up making love again after all. The entire time, the emperor swears he’ll take care of Nie Huaisang, that he’ll protect him, that he loves him, that they’ll be happy. Life isn’t that simple, but Nie Huaisang can pretend that it is. It’d be nice to be happy.

In his next letter, Father says that the emperor has written to him about taking Nie Huaisang as his concubine, and sent a contract draft regarding that offer. Father then congratulates Nie Huaisang for tricking the emperor so well, and forcing him to make his support of their family as official as if he’d married one of their daughters. That praise leaves him feeling dirty. The emperor is a good man, who doesn’t have to be tricked into doing what he thinks is right, and Nie Huaisang hates that this is how others see their relationship.

The best thing about going to live in the imperial palace, Nie Huaisang decides, is that Father won’t be able to write such cruel things anymore for fear the emperor might see it.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #concubine au #I think I'm getting to the end of my burst of inspiration for this au #mayyyyyybe another chapter in the coming days? But I can't even promise that #oh well it's been fun while it lasted #I guess painful cramps are good for something: they make me write angsty shit

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stina-is-a-punk-rocker · 4 years ago

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jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

#love lessons #jacqueline wilson #teacher #teacher crush #teacher x student #anti ezria #ezria #pretty little liars #aria montgomery #ezra fitz #when i kissed the teacher #book review #books

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blueberry-sunghoon · 4 years ago

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"meet me at the ice rink after school" | park sunghoon

words: 5.3k

genre: high school romance, fluff

warnings: none that i can think of

i hope you like this story :))

☆September 2013☆

One late summer afternoon, you and your best friend Sunghoon were at the ice rink, your all-time favorite hangout spot. Of course, your skating skills weren’t nearly as stunning as Sunghoon’s, but throughout the years he had taught you enough so you could manage yourself on the ice. Sunghoon liked to show off new moves he had learned every time he saw you, and he loved to see how your face lit up with amazement when he pulled it off perfectly.

You mainly liked each other’s company, though. When you both were skating with each other, you were free to tell each other everything from your joys to your worries, trusting that the other would laugh with you or be there to comfort you. To each of you, skating with the other felt like home. Today especially, you both needed that. It had been a long day for the both of you; it was your first day of fifth grade, which also happened to be your first day of middle school.

“Today was rough,” you said as you skated alongside Sunghoon.

“Yeah. I didn’t think we would end up not having any classes together. Being apart from you for the whole day… ” Sunghoon sighed before he finished his sentence, “that’ll take some time to get used to.”

“By some miracle, we ended up in the same class every year from kindergarten to fourth grade,” you replied. “Obviously I didn’t think we would have every single class together until 12th grade, but I didn’t think about how hard it would be to be without you.”

“Me neither,” said Sunghoon. "After we got off the bus in the morning and I said goodbye to you, I only saw you once more the whole day. Unfortunately, we were in the hallway and you were way too far away for me to say hi to you. But sitting through eight classes without you in any of them felt really weird, like there was something missing.”

“I didn’t see you at all. All I could do was sit through all my classes, lonely because I barely knew anyone. I missed you, Sunghoon. I don't know how I’m going to do this,” you said with a cracked voice.

Sunghoon noticed you were about to cry, so he stopped skating and hugged you tightly. He let you rest your head on his shoulder as you cried. “It’s okay, y/n, don't cry.”

“It’s not okay!” you retaliated. “How am I supposed to survive middle school without you?”

“We won’t be without each other,” Sunghoon assured you. “I’m still alive, you know. We can still hang out like this after school. And once school clubs open up, we can find one we both like. In the meantime, I’m sure you’ll make some new friends; you’re good at that. You won’t be lonely for long, I promise.”

There was something so reassuring about Sunghoon’s voice that made you feel better. He was right; he wasn’t going anywhere. Even if you couldn’t be together in class, you would still see each other all the time. “Thanks, Sunghoon,” you said softly.

“Mm-hmm,” he said as he pulled away from the hug and wiped away one last stray tear from your face. “Are you good to keep skating?”

“Yeah,” you answered, and the two of you continued to skate. The two of you were quiet for some time, and then a lightbulb went off in the boy’s head.

“y/n, what’s your locker number?”

“56. Why?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon said slyly as a sneaky smile crept up onto his face, “I was just curious.”

~~~

The next morning in second period, you were daydreaming instead of paying attention to the teacher. Among many other things, you were thinking of why Sunghoon wanted to know where your locker was. I’m sure it was nothing, you reasoned, but for some reason you couldn’t push the thought away.

After what seemed like forever, the bell rang and the class was dismissed. Your locker was right outside of that classroom, so you went there to switch out your things. As soon as you opened your locker, however, you were surprised to see a sticky note posted on the inside of the locker door. You were more surprised to see Sunghoon’s handwriting on it. Sunghoon had written you a note. It read,

What do you call a factory that makes okay products? Satisfactory!

You playfully scoffed at the joke before you continued to read the note.

Now you have this corny joke to remember me by all day so you won’t miss me as much. I’ll see you after school :)

From, Sunghoon your favorite person

P.S. My locker number is 179. Do what you will with this information ;)

You were so happy that your best friend had done something that special for you. You took the note and carefully placed it inside the cover of your binder so you would never lose it.

179, huh? You made sure to write Sunghoon a note in reply and put it in his locker before the day was over.

And so began a tradition between you and Sunghoon. Every day you would place a note in the other’s locker, whether it was a corny joke or a word of encouragement if one of you had a big test or a blank note on April Fools day. You never skipped a day; the only way one of you wouldn’t receive a note was if the other person wasn’t at school that day. This continued far beyond the fifth grade. You kept this up all the way through middle school, and now, almost all the way through high school.

☆March 2021☆

You and Sunghoon were now high school seniors, still each other’s closest friend.

Friend. You now shuddered to think of the word. You didn’t regret being by Sunghoon’s side for as long as you both could remember, but over the last two or so years you had developed feelings for him. You wished so badly that you could be more than friends, but you never brought the subject up to him because you didn’t want to risk what you’ve had since you were babies. The sophomore version of you figured that it was probably just a phase, that soon enough your little crush would go away and you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

How you wished that was the case.

Instead, your feelings were stronger than ever, and you found yourself constantly worrying. High school graduation was only three months away, and after that, the two of you were heading off to different universities. Would I have missed my chance by then?

Sunghoon, who was sitting next to you in history class, tapped his pencil on your desk, shaking you from your thoughts. You whipped your head in his direction, confused. He then pointed his pencil at the teacher, who was looking at you and expecting an answer. “I asked you a question, y/n.”

You glanced around the classroom and noticed that the whole class was staring at you. Embarrassed, you mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim, I didn’t hear your question.”

Mr. Kim sighed in frustration. “I asked you what year the French Revolution started.”

You hesitated for a second. “Um, was it 1799?” you guessed, unsure of yourself.

“No,” he replied sharply. “1799 would be the year it came to an end. The revolution started in 1789. y/n, this is the third time I’ve caught you daydreaming during my class this week. I suggest you start paying attention.” And with that, he continued teaching.

You heard a few snickers around the room and you felt humiliated. You felt more blood than you thought you had rush to your face and you slouched down in your seat in shame.

Sunghoon glanced over at you sympathetically. He gave you a sympathetic smile as if to say, “I’m sorry,” and you reciprocated his smile.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to Mr. Kim for the rest of the class period, but it wasn’t easy. In fact, you were so far gone that the bell’s ringing at the end of class escaped your notice. As Sunghoon was packing up his things, he noticed you staring off into space, so he tapped his pencil on your desk once again. “Class is over, y/n,” he said. You saw that half the class was already gone and Mr. Kim was giving you an evil look. “Oh,” you said as you began packing up your things.

By the time you started to pack up, Sunghoon had already finished. You were lucky that he was nice enough to wait for you. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you said apologetically.

“Don't apologize, y/n. I have no problem waiting for you,” he replied. “I have lunch right now anyways, so it doesn’t matter if I’m late.”

What did I do to deserve such an understanding friend?

Finally you finished packing up your things. “I’m ready to go now,” you said to Sunghoon as you put your backpack on.

“Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s go.” You walked with Sunghoon into the hallway.

“Is it an A day or a B day?” you asked as you walked alongside him. “I’m either going to study hall or AP Bio right now and I have no idea which one.” You hoped it was an A day, because you needed some time to yourself after what just happened in history.

“Today is a B day. You have a double period for Bio.”

You sighed in frustration. “Ugh.”

The two of you went quiet for some time. Then Sunghoon finally broke the silence. “y/n, are you okay?”

You quickly glanced at your friend, not knowing what he was referring to. “Yeah. What made you think otherwise?”

“You seem so unfocused lately.”

“Okay, Mr. Kim,” you said sarcastically.

“I’m serious, y/n. And I’m not just talking about history class. Like, you’re always on top of things. These days you seem so forgetful. For example, you’re the one to always remind me whether it’s an A day or a B day, yet today you had no idea. I know you tend to daydream easily, but these days you just seem so out of it. Is there something on your mind? You know you can tell me anything.”

I like you, Sunghoon. I like you a lot, but I have no idea how to tell you. I’m scared of ruining our friendship. I have the constant feeling of running out of time before we go to college, and I don't want it to be too late before I finally get the courage to tell you how I feel.

Of course, you couldn’t tell him any of that. All you could say was, “Don't worry, Sunghoon. I’m fine.” You felt a bit guilty because you rarely hid things from Sunghoon. He was aware of nearly everything that had ever worried you. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about this.

Sunghoon didn’t believe that you were as fine as you said you were. He thought that there was no way something wasn’t bothering you, not with you like this. However, he wasn’t the kind to pry, and he trusted that you would come to him once you felt comfortable. He said, “Okay. If you ever need anything, you know I’m here for you.”

You simply nodded, and the two of you continued to walk in silence until you approached the AP Bio classroom.

“I’ll see you later,” you said.

“Yeah. Um, I have ice skating practice after school today, but I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I get home. I’ll see you then.” He then smiled at you and said, “Keep your head up, okay?”

Once again, you responded by nodding your head. Sunghoon waved you goodbye and he was off to his next destination.

You watched hopelessly as he walked away, and you didn’t enter the classroom until he was completely gone from your sight.

~~~

As soon as you got home from school, you went straight to your room and onto your bed. You pulled your sheets over your head and closed your eyes, trying hard not to think about anything. You were mentally exhausted from thinking so much. Of course, your efforts to not think about the things that stressed you only made you think about them more. Finally, you felt yourself drift into sleep.

After some time, your eyes fluttered open and you checked your phone to see the time. You were out for two and a half hours. You wanted to face your problems instead of avoiding them, so you sat up on your bed and decided to call your friend Sunoo. Sunoo’s good with stuff like this, you thought as your phone rang. You bit your nails as you anxiously waited for him to pick up.

“Hey,” you heard Sunoo say finally.

“Hey Sunoo,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, how about you?”

“Well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath to get rid of the nervous energy before you explained. “See, there’s someone that I like. A lot. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way, but I don't know how to tell him how I feel. We’ve been friends for a long time now, and the last thing I want to do is ruin our friendship right before we head off to different colleges.”

“Oh,” said Sunoo. “Sunghoon, right?”

You felt your heart skip a beat and you raised an eyebrow. That’s suspicious. That’s weird. I’m pretty sure I never told Sunoo that I like Sunghoon. In fact, I didn’t tell anybody… “Um, yeah. How did you know it’s Sunghoon?”

Everyone and their uncle knows you and Sunghoon like each other. I’m pretty sure you two are the only people who don't know. You guys make it painfully obvious, Sunoo thought. “Um, uh, well I know Sunghoon has been your closest friend for a long time now. I figured if there was anyone you liked, it would be Sunghoon.”

“I suppose so,” you said.

“You should tell Sunghoon how you feel.”

You didn’t answer. You wished there was another way around this problem, but there wasn’t. The only option you had was to tell Sunghoon how you felt about him.

“y/n? Are you there?”

Shaken from your thoughts, you hopelessly said, “I can’t, Sunoo. I’m too scared.”

You heard Sunoo sigh before he responded. “There’s a chance he might like you too. But you have to shoot your shot, y/n. Because if you don't, one day you’ll be forty years old, wondering what might have been if you had told the boy you liked when you were 17 how you felt.”

You hated how right Sunoo was. “Sure, there might be a chance that he likes me too,” you started, not believing for a second the statement you just said, “But what if he doesn’t? I will have ruined our friendship.”

“I doubt something like that would ruin your friendship,” said Sunoo. “The bond between you two is incredibly strong, probably stronger than you realize. It’s gonna take a lot more than that to break you guys up. Of course, if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, things might be awkward for some time, but eventually things will return to normal. Sunghoon would never leave you no matter what, and I know you wouldn’t leave him either.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But how do I even go about telling Sunghoon that I like him?”

“y/n, you’re way overcomplicating this. It’s a lot easier than you think. All you have to do is say the words: ‘Sunghoon, I like you.’ Repeat after me: ‘Sunghoon, I like you.’”

“Sunghoon, I like you,” you mumbled with clenched teeth.

“Louder, y/n, I can’t hear you,” Sunoo teased in a singsong voice.

You took a deep breath. “Sunghoon, I like you.”

“That’s more like it,” Sunoo said, satisfied. Then, all of a sudden he got an idea. “Don't y’all leave notes in each other’s lockers every day?”

You weren’t sure where Sunoo was going with this. “Yeah, why?”

“Slip a note in his locker asking him to meet you at the skating rink tomorrow after school. It should be easy to tell him then.”

You had to admit that it was a good idea. Wait. Tomorrow? “Tomorrow? That soon?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sunoo answered without hesitation. “I don't see why not. Otherwise you’ll keep pushing it off and you’ll never actually do it.”

At this point, you were almost infuriated by how right Sunoo was.

“Okay, bet. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“You better. In fact, I’ll make sure I call you before I go to bed to ask you how it went.”

You laughed a little. “I hear you laughing!” said Sunoo in a playful tone. “I’m serious, I will call you.”

You heard your mom call you for dinner. “Yeah. Listen, Sunoo, I have to go now, but thanks so much for the talk. I really needed that.”

“No problem, y/n, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye.”

You put down your phone. I can do this, you said to yourself, feeling more determined than ever.

~~~

Not even five minutes after Sunoo got off the phone with you, he received another call. Who could that be? He thought to himself as he looked away from his homework and at his phone. A sneaky smile appeared on his face when he saw who was calling him.

“Hi Sunghoon,” said Sunoo as he picked up the phone.

“Hey,” said Sunghoon. “Uh, I called because I need to talk to you about something.”

Sunoo could see where he was going. “Of course. I’m all ears.”

“Well, there’s someone at school that I’ve liked for a while, but I really don't know how to tell them. I’m also worried that I might ruin our friendship.”

The smile wouldn’t come off Sunoo’s face, no matter how he tried. Are y/n and Sunghoon really that oblivious? “Park Sunghoon, it’s about time you talked to me about this.”

Sunghoon was confused. “What do you mean?”

“It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Sunghoon, more confused than before. “But what do you mean ‘it’s about time’?”

“Sunghoon, everyone knows that you like y/n. I’m not sure you could make it any more obvious. The way you look and smile at them when they’re talking to you says everything. You’re obviously whipped. When I first noticed, I was so excited for you, and I wanted to talk to you about it. But I didn’t want to bring it up first because that might have made you uncomfortable. So I waited. It’s been two long years.”

Sunghoon could feel his face flush red with embarrassment. Sunoo really said “This you?”

“Oh,” Sunghoon replied softly. “Well, does y/n know? Do you think they like me too?”

No, they don't know. They’re just as oblivious as you. It kills me how unaware of each other you guys are. Sunoo took a deep breath and chose his next words very carefully. “I can’t say. The only way you’ll know for sure is if you ask.”

“But I can’t tell y/n how I feel. I might ruin our friendship.”

Oh my god, thought Sunoo, it’s almost like they share the same brain. Sunoo assured Sunghoon that he wouldn’t ruin his friendship by telling you how he felt about you. Then, to spice things up, he decided to give Sunghoon the same suggestion he gave you.

“Wait, you might be on to something,” said Sunghoon.

“I know,” said Sunoo, “it’s a gift of mine.”

“That’s actually a good idea, Sunoo. I’ll try it. I have to go now though, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Alright, see ya.”

Sunoo hung up the phone, feeling quite proud of himself. “I love it when a plan comes together,” Sunoo said out loud as he continued his homework.

~~~

It was third period the next day. Calculus was your favorite subject, and the one you usually paid the most attention in. Not today, though. All you could think about was going to Sunghoon’s locker and putting the note in there. Once you did, there would be no going back.

You pulled out the note you had written from your folder. Meet me at the ice rink after school today, there’s something I want to tell you :) was what you had written. You stared at the piece of paper as if it would eat you alive. Your hands became sweaty and you could feel your heart racing. How could something so simple torment you so much?

The sound of the bell ringing interrupted your thoughts. Calculus was over, and it was time to go to lunch. You packed up your things and left the classroom. This was usually the time of day when you would slip your daily note into Sunghoon’s locker, so today before you went to lunch, you started to make your way there. It was the same time that Sunghoon would normally do the same thing (except he was on his way to physics), so you two would cross paths in the hallway.

Today when you crossed paths, you quickly said “hi” with a smile to each other. Of course, you both knew that you were going to each other’s lockers, but what you didn’t know was that you had the exact same message for each other.

As you approached Sunghoon’s locker, your heartbeat quickened and your temperature rose, making your glasses foggy. With shaky hands, you put in the combination on the lock and opened his locker. You stood there for a moment, negative scenarios flashing through your mind. You thought about what you would be risking (which, by the way, was everything). We’ve built so much over the years. Do I even dare?

You fixed your gaze on the small, blue, diamond-shaped magnet on the door of Sunghoon’s locker. Every day since fifth grade, you would use that magnet to attach your message to his locker. He had managed to keep the same one all these years. You were so used to seeing it everyday, yet soon enough you wouldn’t be seeing it anymore. That reminded you that you didn’t want to lose your chance with Sunghoon. It’s now or never.

You took a deep breath, then attached the note to the inside of the locker door. Before you could think about taking it back, you closed the locker shut and headed off to lunch. There was no turning back.

After lunch, you went to your locker to switch out your books. Once you opened it, you saw Sunghoon’s note... It wasn’t anything near what you were expecting. Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes opened wider than you thought they could. "Meet me at the rink after school, there’s something important I need to tell you."

As if you weren’t more nervous today than you had ever been in your whole life, Sunghoon’s note sent you into anxiety overdrive. What could Sunghoon possibly have to tell me? There were endless possibilities. You thought for a second that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to tell you the same thing you wanted to tell him. But you immediately rejected that idea and laughed it off. Don't be ridiculous, y/n.

You convinced yourself that it likely had something to do with his ice skating - he probably had been invited to a championship or something like that. It wasn’t the first time Sunghoon had invited you to the rink so he could tell you something important. It was just a coincidence that you both had big news that day. You switched out your books and walked to your next class feeling confident.

~~~

When you made it to the rink after school, you saw that Sunghoon was already there, putting on his skates. “You’re late,” he teased.

“Yah, no I’m not! Just cuz you got here first doesn’t mean I’m late. I’m here after school, aren’t I?” you said as you playfully punched his arm.

Sunghoon burst out into laughter. “y/n, what was that? That didn’t even hurt.”

“I could have made it hurt if I wanted to,” you teased. “You’re lucky I’m nice.”

You went to get your skates, and a few minutes later you both were skating alongside each other. You and Sunghoon were talking to each other, but it was mostly small talk. It was obvious that you both were preoccupied with what you wanted to tell each other.

“How’s your sister?” you asked.

“She’s doing good.”

A pause.

“Have you decided on a topic for the English essay?” Sunghoon asked.

“I’m most likely going to do the Civil War. You?”

“I’m doing the Industrial Revolution.”

“Nice.”

Another pause.

Sunghoon sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, a habit you noticed he had when he was nervous. “Let’s get rid of the elephant in the room. We both have stuff to tell each other," he said.

You felt your heart rate go up and you found yourself playing with your fingers to ward off the nervous energy. “Mmm-hmm.”

Sunghoon noticed that you were a bit uneasy. “Do you want me to go first?”

As much as you wanted to say yes, you didn’t trust yourself to not chicken out at the last minute. It took every nerve in your body for you to say, “I’ll go first.”

“Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

“It’s definitely a big one,” you said. You stopped skating, and Sunghoon followed. You were so nervous that you couldn’t even make eye contact with him. I can do this, you thought to yourself as you began.

“Well, Sunghoon, we’ve been best friends since the beginning, you know? And, um, through all these years you’ve been there for me through thick and thin. You’ve honestly been the best friend I’ve ever had. Well, you see, it’s been about two years since I started feeling differently about you. I’ve been dying for so long to tell you how I feel, but I was scared that I might ruin our friendship. But I’ve been thinking a lot about my feelings lately, and I just can’t hide this from you anymore.”

Are they about to tell me what I think they are? Sunghoon thought to himself.

You took a deep breath before you continued. “I guess what I mean to say is,” you said as you finally looked up to make eye contact with Sunghoon, “is that I like you, Sunghoon. Could we be more than friends?”

At this point, you were insanely anxious. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you thought you could faint. And it didn’t help that Sunghoon wasn’t saying anything, just staring at you. What you didn’t know was that he was just as anxious as you; he was just better at keeping it all in than you. He could hardly believe that he had just heard those words from you.

You immediately broke eye contact with Sunghoon and looked off to the side so he couldn’t see how embarrassed you were. “Or not,” you mumbled. “I mean if you don't wanna be more than friends that’s okay I mean we can still be friends that’s completely fine I just hope I haven’t ruined everything oh God who am I kidding what have I done-”

You were interrupted by the sound of Sunghoon sighing. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him smiling from ear to ear. You turned your head to face him and said, “What?”

“Stop rambling already.”

Before you had time to process what he said, he leaned in and quickly, yet softly, kissed your cheek. You were in utter shock and disbelief, and you felt your face go hot. A tiny smile came across your face.

Sunghoon saw your glasses fogging up and that’s when he knew you were blushing. He decided to tease you. “Aw, I make you flustered.”

You became playfully defensive and flicked his hand. “Yah! No you don't.”

Sunghoon laughed. “Yes I do,” he said as he swiftly took your hand and intertwined it with his. He swung your hand up and down and his smile got even bigger as your eyes lit up. “You look like the pleading eyes emoji right now.”

You let out a nervous yet happy laugh. “Sunghoon, you’re killing me.” Never in your wildest dreams did you think this moment would ever come to be.

Sunghoon cleared his throat. “In all seriousness though, y/n, I really like you too.”

“I’m so glad I was able to get that out,” you said as you let out a happy sigh. “I’d been keeping it in for a long time. I was so worried about messing up our friendship and especially over the past few weeks I’ve been worried about once we go to college, we’ll be physically apart. Thankfully, though, yesterday I talked to Sunoo about everything and he really helped me muster the courage to tell you how I feel.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat when you mentioned Sunoo. There’s no way. “Oh, you talked to Sunoo? I heard he’s good with stuff like that. What did he say?”

“You know, he told me that it was better for me to shoot my shot so that down the road I wouldn't regret not taking a chance. And he was right. I don't regret this at all.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me, because I would really like to be more than friends with you. And, um, I’m not worried about going off to different colleges or being physically apart. I believe in us; we’ll find a way.”

“Then I’m not worried about it either,” you said, relieved.

“I’m glad,” Sunghoon said. “Does Saturday work for a date? I can pick you up at your house around 7:00.”

“That sounds great, Sunghoon.”

“Perfect,” said Sunghoon, his smile bigger than ever. “You wanna keep skating now?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “I’d like that.”

You and Sunghoon continued to skate, and the rest of the afternoon was filled with happiness and laughter. The smiles never came off either of your faces, and neither of you had even thought of letting go of the other’s hand. The two of you were so happy in this moment and you didn’t want it to end.

All good things must come to an end, though, and your afternoon with Sunghoon was no different. Sunghoon felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his hoodie and he pulled it out. His mom had sent him a text. “My mom’s asking me where I am,” said Sunghoon with a twinge of disappointment. “I guess I can’t blame her; we’ve been here for almost four hours. I should get going.”

“No problem Sunghoon. I should probably get home as well. I need to get started on my homework.”

You and Sunghoon left the rink, still holding hands. You two were parked next to each other in the parking lot, and there you said your goodbyes. Before you went in your car, however, you thought of something. “Hey, Sunghoon, did you have anything in mind you wanted to tell me when you invited me here? You know, anything not related to what I told you?”

“Nope. That was exactly it,” Sunghoon said with a smile. “Believe it or not, I also talked to Sunoo yesterday evening.”

“No way,” you said, a bit dumbfounded. “Did you actually?”

“Yeah. Looks like great minds think alike.” He gave you a wink, and before he turned around to get in his car, he said, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

#enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #park sunghoon #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen writers #enhypen reactions #enhypen timestamps #enhypen angst

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

Note

Reading what you said re: it's not wrong to change a plan, as long as you properly adapt to it and build off cause and effect in a natural meaningful way

The classic MKEK fall-back of "this was planned from the beginning" always feels bad to me, not only because of the ready rebuttal of "if it was, then why was it set up so badly," but also because limiting yourself to a pre-determined plan from the start is actually incredibly stifling as a creative, and ultimately detrimental to your story.

You mention How I Met Your Mother as a good example of how "sticking to the plan" can be bad; so I just want to mention a show that thrived on "let the chips fall where they may," The Office. The actresses who played Pam and Angela have a podcast where they delve into each episode, talking about the behind the scenes aspects, trivia, writing choices, plot points, etc. and one thing that really stuck with me about it is that they didn't plan the ending. Even the famous romance between Pam and Jim was never 'end game' to the writers; they wanted to let the story and characters develop naturally and see where things went, and it felt more real because of it. There are scenes in the early seasons that exist solely because "that was back when they weren't sure if they would redeem Roy and have us get back together or not," or "that was back when they thought maybe Angela and Roy might get together," or "that was when they were thinking that Jim might move on once and for all and be with Karen," and that sort of thing. Pam and Jim is heralded as one of the most well-written romances in television, and it was not planned from the beginning. Another example of a great ship that wasn't end-game from the start is in Parks and Recreation between Leslie and Ben. This absolutely could not have been planned from the start, because Ben wasn't even introduced as a character until the finale of season 2.

I think you're right that a show should be allowed to develop naturally and change their minds about what they do, and I agree 100% that one of the problems with RWBY is that sometimes they'll let the story grow, but then they invariably erase that growth so that they can force in some long-outdated plan that no longer works for the story.

"It was planned from the beginning" is a terrible excuse to ruin your own story and characters, especially if your story is one in which the best parts happened because you went off-script.

All of this. There’s a lot of talk in writing circles about the planning camp vs. let the chips fall camp, but in reality any long-running story is going to need both. One of the challenges is that this combination looks very different depending on the type of story and the type of author(s) involved. There’s perhaps more wiggle room for letting the chips fall in a semi-realistic, character driven comedy series than, say, in a plot-driven action series. “I don’t know yet what sort of relationship these characters will have in three seasons time” is very different from “I don’t know what the situation with the Relics is going to look like in three seasons time.” Whether Pam and Jim get together or not, you still have a good story about their relationship, whatever that may look like. If the Relics are, say, dropped from the show completely, or retconned, or brought together and the characters have to go stupid to not do anything with them because the writers didn’t plan ahead... that’s more of a problem. So it’s this balance between what you’ve thought ahead to and what you need to accommodate. “It was planned from the beginning” can be a horrible way to treat your story if you’re introducing new elements (How I Met Your Mother), but it can also be a fantastic way to treat your story if you’re following that original path (The Good Place). Unplanned elements can be an excellent addition if the author is willing to run with them (Sasha and Tim in The Magnus Archives), or a terrible hinderance if the author is not (Maria and Pietro). Any author needs to be willing to put in that work of figuring out what elements need to be planned, when they can allow the writing to be organic, and once that organic approach reveals something, ensuring that it comes to mean something.

RWBY feels like it’s failing on both fronts right now. The story as a whole doesn’t feel like it’s appropriately sketched out, like we’re just meandering through new plot points until it’s eventually cancelled, not navigating a broad - but still reliable - structure. We tossed out the school structure post-Volume 3, tossed out the Final Boss Salem structure with her arrival in Volume 7, and now (presumably) have tossed out the Relic structure in Volume 9, falling into a void instead of heading to Vacuo. Yet at the same time, each now plot point that’s introduced has just as much chance of getting tossed aside too. It’s not replacing A plot point with B plot point, it’s replacing it with C, then D, then E F G, sometimes within the same volume. We’ve often said that RWBY has too many cool ideas and that’s a huge part of the problem.

Salem is here! But Ironwood is the enemy! The gorillas are back! But they don’t do anything! Ozpin is back too and Oscar is upset about it! But torture is the actual problem! Team JYR are here to save him! But that doesn’t matter! Emerald and Hazel are bad guys! But now they’re not! Redemption is compelling! But now he’s dead and she’s a fixture of the group already! Ren is upset about their choices! But now he’s got a semblance upgrade! Nora cares about the people! But now she cares about Amity! Yang fights with Ruby! But now she’s upset about Blake! Penny is framed! But now she’s the Maiden! But now she’s hacked! But now she’s human! But now she’s dead!

There. is. so. much. going. on. A desire to let the chips fall where they may still requires restraint on the author’s part and a willingness to follow each thread once it reveals itself (unless we’re talking about a story deliberately meant to be meandering, episodic, etc.) As said, there’s nothing wrong with a lack of planning... but that sort of work does require an experienced, talented team to manage. And there is something wrong with making the story so organic that you’re coming up with new ideas every few episodes, not bothering to keep track of what came before this because it will be replaced in another few episodes too. Meanwhile, claiming that it was all “planned from the beginning” in a misguided attempt to make the whole project seem better than it actually is. At this point, RWBY is a revolving door of disjointed, unexplored ideas, held together by confident writers and a fandom inclined to carefully select the parts that do work, ignore/headcanon the rest, and claim that these pieces amount to the whole, planned, ingenious story.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas #plushchrome1212

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stellocchia · 3 years ago

Note

woof other anon completely misses the point of fanfic--and also completely misrepresents published work at the same time.

there was a post here on tumblr a couple/few years back where a former editor for a publishing company during the Twilight Craze talked about the sheer girth of the vampire romance stories they got. And they said, straight up, that even some of the worst fanfics were more tolerable than the stuff that actually got published back then.

just because something got published doesn't mean its somehow the Best Writing Ever, it can easily just tie into whatever is a popular trend at the time. publishing companies, after all, have to follow marketing trends to keep making money. quality of work isn't always their biggest concern lmao

also angst isn't. trauma porn? like, if you go the route of no happy endings, than romeo & juliet is trauma porn. if you go the route of bad things just keep happening, its literally every long running series ever.

trauma porn is another one of those terms these days that people throw around that used to have a specific definition but now people just use it to describe 'bad things happen to characters and you LIKE it??' time vibe and i'm sorry to tell other anon but.

technically the DSMP itself with count as trauma porn in that case.

further: what does that mean? 'the writing has no substance'? it just sounds like the author's writing style has no appeal for the anon. or that just the general fanfic style isn't appealing for that anon.

like, genuinely, i don't actually like how the lord of the rings books were written. this is not a dig at tolkien: he wrote the books in his style and his style just happens to not appeal to me at all. that's just how it is.

other anon, going out of your way to insult an entire community of people isn't very Pogchamp of you. smh

I just want to clarify something here: other Anon did say that they wrote that pretty late when they were tired and preventively informed me that their opinion on the matter would be negative, and I have absolutely nothing against them for expressing it.

After all, any discussion is worth having in my opinion, as long as everyone involved is respectful.

That said, yes, I do agree that their problem with fanfiction sounded more like a matter of personal preference, while the generalized wording of it made it feel as if it was an objective fact. Which, of course, again, fanfiction often isn't really written to appeal to other people as much as it's written so the author can have fun, and I'd say that's the main difference between it and published works more so than being an issue of quality.

Also, you do raise a good point about the whole "trauma porn" thing. I'm so tired of seeing it thrown around by a bunch of pretentious kids who sound like they've never read a book in their life. There are plenty of books out there were things keep going worse and worse and they're widely recognized as wonderful pieces of literature. There is literally no limit to how horribly things can go for a certain character, the only limit there is given by your personal preference in the matter. And in the foster aus that were mentioned the limit is normally pretty low? Like, "kid was treated badly, and is now in a loving enviroment where he's able to slowly heal" is hardly dark content, I'm sorry. The dsmp explores much darker themes most of the time from what I've seen.

It's just something that slightly annoys me when I see it talked about.

#anon ask #long post #anyway nothing against other anon #as I mentioned before I don't mind people sharing their opinions with me even when I don't necessarily agree

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years ago

Text

Not by the Moon | 04

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

There are a lot of extraordinary people in the world, but you often don’t find them remarkable until you happen to stumble upon and talk to them. The wolfish man holding tightly onto my hand, his arm draped across my shoulders, as we swagger over the pavement to his home above Paper Souls is such a curious person.

The good hour he dozed off hasn’t helped his sickly state. Even though he was nestled comfortably against me, occasionally a pained delirious whine fell from his panting lips as his features turned into a grimace. Upon waking, Jaebeom tried to dismiss his symptoms as nothing to worry about, but I insisted on getting him home as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry I ruined our outing,” he murmurs, voice strained. As we ascend the stairs to his apartment, he keeps his head bent low to focus on his steps.

Step by step. One foot before the other. There you go.

“It’s not your fault you got sick,” I reply, keeping a close eye on his movements to offer additional support if needed.

He turns his head to me, a few long black locks partially concealing the sweat on his brow. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to protest yet decides against it. Henceforth, what I get in reply is a hum resigning in the notion it’s indeed not his fault.

Is your condition causing this?

The question burns hot on the tongue, but I swallow it down. Hopefully, we’ll get to talk about it properly sometime in the future.

The day we know each other.

We make it to the top, albeit not effortlessly since I have to steady him when he almost trips on the last step. Panic and instinct rush through me when Jaebeom threatens to topple over, so I act quickly and shoulder more of his weight after clumsily steadying us both on the narrow staircase.

“Are you going to be alright?” I ask, out of breath. The adrenaline of the potential danger has spent whatever energy I had, the muscles in my limbs melted.

“I will be,” he weakly answers.

I gently let his arm glide from my shoulders, the removal of the weight simultaneously a relief and a missed presence. The attempt at letting him stand on his own feet is successful, although his hand shakes as he unlocks the front door.

The feverish fingers glide from the doorknob to entwine with mine once more before his tongue runs over my lips again. Despite this being the third time it happens, it still doesn’t fail to bewilder me nor bring a boyish smirk to his face when I look at him, speechless.

“Thanks. Today nice. I-,” he starts up and averts his gaze to the side, a rosy flush on his cheeks, “I mean, today was nice.”

I put my hand on the side of his face, gently compelling him to look at me. A cheeky idea rises in my mind, tempting me to go against my very nature.

Which I do.

Standing on the tips of my toes, I close my eyes and give him a peck on the cheek. The action surprises us both because he looks utterly gobsmacked when I have gathered very piece and sliver of the courage needed to look up at him.

However, before I can utter a word, a hesitating hand reaches out to carefully brush against my cheek, the touch as light as the fall of a feather on porcelain. The gentleness of the contact forms a funny contrast to the roughness when he firmly presses his lips on mine the second after.

Musk mingled with the musty perfume of books, warmth of spices and bitter coffee with a hint of fresh cologne fills my nose and overtakes the senses. My brain short-circuits, filled with a strange primal instinct no one has ever awakened before. Notwithstanding, something in the way our bodies harmonize in the small yet passionate contact triggers it, leaving me wanting more.

Skin on skin.

Just us.

But it’s too early and we barely know each other. This isn’t right. Not now, at least.

Hence is why I pull away, taking a step back with the imprint of his moustache ticklish on my lips.

A whimper like an abandoned puppy erupts from his throat as he chases after my mouth. Nevertheless, when I take a step back to avoid further contact, he gives up and lowers his head. However, as rapidly as disappointment had overtaken him, he rights himself and clears his throat. When he speaks up, the words come out in a mumbled mess. “I- I’m sorry. That was too direct.”

“No, it’s fine,” I reassure him, vaguely gesturing with one hand while I rub the back of my neck with the other. “I- I liked it, but let’s not- Do you... really see me that way?”

“In what way?” he asks, blinking as he gives me a blank look. But, the meaning dawns on him after a moment in which I badly try to articulate what I mean.

He grabs my right wrist, the one he bit, and holds it up for me to see. The broken skin has already healed a bit, but it’s still sensitive and throbbing, especially now that JB puts pressure on it. “I didn’t do this out of some de- del- confused?”

“Delirious?” I help him, wondering what point he is about to try and convince me of.

“Delirious! I didn’t do this out of a delirious frenzy. This means something to me. Something important. To me, this is us.” JB takes in a deep breath to steady himself, his voice strained as he seems to hold something in. “What I want for us. And I want others to know this because you’re my territory.”

“I’m just a friend.”

And scared of losing you to Love.

“You are, but you’re also more to me. I know you said you want to take things slow and I agree with that.’’ His expression softens, dark eyes filled with tender affection. ‘’However, I want you to know how I really feel about you.”

“I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

“Me too. Yet,” he closes the distance and cups my face, his thumbs lovingly brushing my cheeks, “you deserve to know my intentions. Know I want to take the risk when you’re ready to do so too.”

“Thank you.” I run my hands over his arms, his body heat warming my palms through the fabric of the sleeves. It’s a pleasant thought, knowing he is there to catch me should my knees give out. Which is likely to happen as the leftover tension from our trip upstairs fades and affection fills the heart.

“For what?”

“Waiting.”

Until I figure out when it’s the right time.

He nips at the tip of my nose, his tongue cheeky in its feather light touch. “I always will. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“I’m going out for tea with a friend.” The delight in his expression sours as it did in the park, the confident playfulness replaced by a vicious brooding. The autumn chill cools my face, the warmth and safety of his hands fallen away.

Turned to stone by the suppressed vehemence, I stumble over my words as I swiftly explain myself. “She is an old friend I met at university. We go out for tea or coffee often, especially before I have to go on a trip.”

“Ah, I see.” He hangs his head in remorse, but perks up immediately as if remembering something. “I got you something. Wait here.”

He rushes inside, coming back soon after with two books in his hands which he holds out to me. A collection of Keats’s poems and Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake.

The books I read when we met.

“For you,” JB happily announces, the bright proud ring in his voice distorting it to sound like a bark. “So you have something to read when you’re away.”

“Thank you so much. That’s so sweet of you.” I accept the gift, showing my gratitude in the brush over his fingers as I take the books from his hands. “I should get you something in return.”

“Just send me a reminder to take my medication every day.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s all I want.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

“And a text you arrived home safely.”

“Of course.”

“And let me pick you up from the airport when you come back.”

“My, do you have any other demands?”

Lips pursed as if seriously considering the rhetorical remark, Jaebeom tilts his head to the side. “Well, eating together again would be nice. Maybe we can go around town and try out various cafés and go bookshop hopping? I could also cook for you at least once a week, though I’ll have to ask Jinyoung to teach me.”

Oh my God, he really is serious.

Before he continues adding to the evidently growing list, I cut him off. “Okay, okay, I hear you. One thing at a time, alright?”

“Right,” he chuckles, “one thing at a time.”

“I’m gonna go.” With a heavy heart full of reluctance, I initiate our goodbyes. “Go to bed and get some rest before your fever worsens. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Can I have one more kiss?”

“Of course.”

I stand on the tip of my toes and tenderly press my lips against his. “Goodnight, Jaebeom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

I ascend the stairs, but do not head home immediately. Instead, I remain where I stand and turn around to wave at the wolfish man gazing down at me.

One more moment with him.

Before I set off on the homebound journey in the next.

Above, the moon is waning.

Yesterday evening, Morgan sent pictures of the place she has chosen for our next tea adventure, lyrical about the interior. Since the moment we met, in our first year of studying journalism at the local university, we have been visiting coffee shops and tea rooms around the country and occasionally written an article about them for the university’s blog. Our adventures always begin the same, never having changed in the six years we have known each other.

A picture.

And a rant about aesthetics, reviews, and the potential of having discovered a hidden gem.

The latter might be the case of Moon Bunny Coffee and Tea, a tea room inspired by the French countryside. The far wall is made of bare brick, which forms a strangely yet nice contrast to the white wooden furniture and neatly set tables. From the speakers in the corners of the establishment, instrumental pieces and French songs alternate each other to enhance the atmosphere that makes one feel as if they are truly in France. And if the interior does nothing for the imagination, the pastries and beverage names noted in French on the menu will do the trick.

It’s only recently opened and is run by a young couple. Élise, the owner, has opened this establishment after working in various patisseries in Paris during her teenage years. However, she has now settled here with who I actually presume rather than know is her partner. According to the context Morgan sent, the tall guy with pale blond hair, oval narrow face and a leather necklace with a strange bauble - that seems to change colour - hanging from it is called Mark. The level of familiarity between the two as they work makes it easy to assume there is more than friendship, hence the suspected relation between the two.

“So, have you seen him again?” Morgan takes a sip of her cinnamon and apple tea, a smirk on her cherry red lips.

I told her about Jaebeom and the strange first encounter with him. Regardless of the weird amiability that grew between us as the hours passed in each other’s company, I could not help but remain wary. After all, the bookseller has a particular reputation thanks to the rumours created by the local gossip mill. In hindsight, it’s idiotic I used those groundless stories in my analysis or, rather, overanalysis of the kindness he showed me. Yet, I did, though they sound as absurd as they did before now that I know him better.

Notwithstanding, whereas I was losing my sanity anxious bit by anxious bit as I told her about it over the phone, Morgan’s enthusiasm grew at the same rate. Each argument in favour of the concern about my strangeness or far-fetched theory he was merely polite, she countered with a more realistic view on the situation. In the end, it’s also her input which led to me dropping by Paper Souls on the way to work and back on a daily basis.

And I’m glad she’s part of the reason I did because I might otherwise have given up after the third day of seeing the bookshelves cast in shadows.

“I have,” I admit, unable to suppress a smile at the memory of our outing to the park.

And what came after.

The memory of the chafing of his moustache triggers a phantom of the loving warmth of his lips on mine. Cheeks heat up, remembering the roughness of his sturdy hands. A sharp sting followed by a throbbing treks through my wrist again, the half-healed wound suffering from a pleasant phantom pain.

“Judging by that grin of yours, you’re not telling me everything.” Morgan cuts her scone in half and smears some of the homemade strawberry jam it comes with on one half, followed by a dollop of clotted cream.

I nibble on the rice cake filled with red bean paste. Maybe it’s not a perfect partner to the tea I chose although it makes for a delicious combination regardless. The taste of red beans is an acquired one, but the subtle sweetness evens out the bitterness of the beverage. “We went on somewhat of a date.”

“Somewhat?”

“It kind of just happened.” The whiskey tea I ordered is stronger than I thought, howbeit not in an unpleasant way. Like the real drink, it goes down smoothly and warms the body from within. “He offered to go out for lunch in the park and I agreed. It was nice. Really nice.”

Especially his body heat, the safety of his presence. How protected I felt despite not knowing him all that well.

“And?”

“And?” I repeat like a parrot. I know what she’s unconsciously aiming at, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll tell her outright. It’s always fun to tease the raven-haired woman a little.

“Details, lass!”

“We kissed,” I say, the confession hardly louder than a whisper. ‘’And I was the one to initiate it.’’

“How scandalous.” In fake shock, she clasps her hand over her mouth. “You’re a bold one, Y/N.”

“Oh, stop it.” I take a sip of tea and point at the other half of her scone. “Clotted cream with jam instead of the other way around now?”

As a fierce defender of both sides of the old discussion, Morgan indeed now smears the fluffy white cream on the other half first before she tops it off with the jam. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m not sure if there’s a future for us.” I lean back, cross my arms and look out the window.

A little distance away, there’s a metal bench and somehow an image of myself sits on it, alone. No wonder she looks glum because she is the me of the future, a woman who’s heart was devoted to the type of love that is, like humans, a plaything of Time.

She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

“It’s not my place to say this, but,’’ I turn back to her, absent-mindedly rubbing the mark on my wrist, ‘’he told me he has this condition that’s kinda like dementia, but he gave off the impression it’s also not. I don’t know what’s going on, only that there’s a deadline. A cruel one, and while I know avoiding it is futile, I’m not ready to face it nor will I ever be.”

The confusion on her face lightens to understanding concern. However, despite her features softening, there remains a hint of brooding in her attitude. “I see. It’s like that,” she murmurs cryptically as she takes a bite of her scone, more to herself than as a reply to me. “The story is repeating itself.”

“Morgan,” the mention of her name makes the raven-haired woman snap out of her reverie, “what do you mean?”

Instead of providing a proper answer, she dismisses the questions with a vague gesture. “Just the murmurs of an old soul.”

There is inherent beauty in the medieval cities of Europe that leaves one in awe wherever they go. Furthermore, the shops specialized in local goods and hidden gems add to the flair of narrow streets enclosed by tall buildings that breathe history. Nevertheless, regardless of the ancient beauty, there is nothing which can compete with a warm bed at the end of a day full of running from one end of the town to the other in search of the best chocolatiers.

Well, there is one thing.

As I’m putting on my pyjamas, my phone gives off a light buzz, indicating a new message.

Jaebeom: Can we video call? I miss your face.

You... You miss seeing me?

In spite of the unease of not having makeup on, I oblige and call him first. It has not even gone over once before messy black locks show up on screen. However, before he can have a good look at me, I quickly slink beneath the blanket.

“What’re you doing?” He, too, is in bed howbeit without any insecurity whatsoever. In fact, he is more than comfortable wearing not even a top regardless of the chilly weather, leaving defined collarbones and defined chest muscles on display.

“I’m not wearing makeup, so I look horrible.”

And you showing up like this doesn’t help either.

Because the bare skin, little as it is, unleashes a storm of butterflies in the stomach. The temperature in the room rises or maybe it is simply my body reacting to the aching to run my fingertips over his definitions, the features that unintentionally unleash an absurd frenzy holding the middle between unashamed love and lust. The cheeks heat up as the need for the thick comforter decreases yet the growing discomfort is not enough to come out of hiding.

“I’m sure you don’t.” Either intentionally or not, he puts on irresistible puppy eyes. The well-meant tenderness in his voice also stirs something in me, charmed by the kindness. “Please don’t hide. I want to see you.”

Although reluctant, I lower the sheets.

Only to want to pull them over my head at his words and the stupidly bright smile accompanying them. “You’re even prettier like this.”

“Shut up, you weird wolf,” I grumble, jaw clenched as I strain myself not to hide again. To distract us both, I change the topic. “Did you take your meds?”

“I did! And I mean it. No, no, no! Get out from under there. Y/N, come on. I’m not lying. You are pretty. And caring and nice and-’’

“You’re handsome.” I glare at him, peeking just over the edge of the sheet. Unfortunately, my revenge isn’t successful since it merely yields a low chuckle.

Though it seems the victory is still mine because he bites on his bottom lip and softens his voice further to a timid whisper. “Even with my new look?”

He shows off the mess of his shorter black locks, which are shaved on the side and longer on top. It’s a shame to see the long hair go because I personally think it suits him better, but he pulls the cooler style off too.

“Even more so because of it.” Although they’re essentially minor changes, it casts Jaebeom in a whole other light. He’s still a wolfish man, and I doubt I’ll ever see him as something else, but the new look gives him a more human allure. As if he’s tuned in better to life in the city instead of wandering the rough landscape in his mind.

“I’ll tell Jinyoung he did a good job, then.” He gets up on his elbow, a view of the upper part of his chest filling the small screen. The veins in his hand form mellow ridges on the back of it, highlighting a few patches where the skin has scraped off, as he fluffs his pillow before lying down again and snuggling into it to get comfortable. “How’s Bruges?”

“It’s a really pretty city. I think you’d like it.” A wistful smile forms on my lips, in part dazed by the entrancing sight a moment ago. “I wish you were here. Wish we could get lost forever... together! I mean, get lost together. Here. In the city.”

“Are you getting sleepy?” His features soften into a dreamy expression though a cheeky spark illuminates the night sky in his eyes.

“No,” I fiercely protest. That is, until an involuntary yawn escapes me, which makes it impossible to hide the fatigue of running about town the entire day anymore. “Maybe.”

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

“Don’t want to. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes.” I conceal another yawn by pulling up the comforter.

“You likely have another busy day ahead. So go hit the hay and I’ll talk to you in my dream.”

“Who says I won’t do the same?’’ I remark smugly, proud of the comment that pops up and is too tempting not to make. ‘’Wouldn’t that make it our dream?”

“We’ll talk in our dream,” he corrects himself, a content hum following the correction. Notwithstanding, the delight darkens into a stern seriousness as he tries to look over my shoulder to scan the room, to inspect every nook and cranny instead of what’s on display in the background. “By the way, what’s your colleague doing? Are you alone?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “He has his own room because he tends to want more of the local taste, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” A deeply puzzled expression forms on his face, clearing the spine-chilling suspicion. “Is that code for something?”

“An affair, JB. My colleague more often than not enjoys a one-night stand, if not more, with local girls. It depends on how long we’re away.”

“Have you ever done that?” It has to be the exhaustion, but the question strangely sounds like a whine.

“Never. In fact, you...” I bite my lip as my stomach ties itself into a nauseating knot, chest constricted with bleak worry about what he will say about the confession balancing precariously on the tip of the tongue. However, I swallow hard and continue the unfinished sentence. “You’re the first guy I’ve dated.”

“We’re dating?”

“Are we?” His question makes me wonder if we actually are, if I didn’t jump to a fantastical conclusion. Then again, we kissed, went out together, and drank coffee in his shop. Nevertheless, also judging by the curiosity in his response, I doubt it’s right for me to assume it’s true. “Well, maybe we aren’t. After all, we’ve only been to the park, so I suppose-’’

I’m wrong, because we barely know each other and yet. Yet, I kissed him. And he kissed me back. Is that anything to go by, a valid reason?

“We’re dating!” The sudden outburst catches me as much off-guard as the enthusiastic addition or, rather, plan for when I return. “I’ll cook for you after bringing you home. Afterwards, we can just sit on the couch and read. You can also nap on me to cure your jet lag. Does that count as a date?”

“I don’t know if it does according to the official terms, but,” the fatigue ebbs away, replaced by the giddiness of going home as soon as possible, “it does to me.”

“Two dates,” he murmurs thoughtfully, nodding as if confirming an unspoken notion. “We’re dating.”

Weirdo.

I watch him analyze the situation, overcome with affection. When he bites down on his index finger to suppress a broad grin, I almost have to do the same.

“I wish I was there with you,” Jaebeom eventually notes to break the twilight hush, at last content on where we stand. The yearning of the wish is tangible in my bones because I feel the same way, though I try not to show it. “I should’ve given you a shirt or something, but I wasn’t sure if it would be good. That’s not the word. Ap... ap... appropropiate? Appropriate. If it would be that.”

“I do have the books you gave me, so I do have a piece of you here.”

But I do miss your scent. Wait, that’s weird to say. I shouldn’t say that.

Though it’s indeed strange and I don’t tell him, it isn’t a lie. Jaebeom does smell nice, like a wild forest in which the air is scented by a cologne that barely conceals its secret. The ferocious guardian in the shadows.

“Still, I wish I had given you something that marks you as mine.” Gaze downcast, the big wolf man pouts at the thought, sulking.

“You have.” I hold up my wrist, the place where he bit me now nothing but a red blotch.

“It’s almost gone. I should renew that once you’re back. A shirt and bite. That should show other males we’re together,” he muses, the disappointment gone in an instant as his focus changes.

“Totally not possessive, are we?”

“I’m not,” he grumbles. “Just marking my territory.”

“JB, you are.”

“Does it bother you, make you upset?”

“Yes and no.” I take in a shaky breath, distracted by the thought of the implications I want him to be. After all, something about the feral allure melts any resistance and lets me slip into a headspace I didn’t know I had.

Somewhere, deeply hidden in the brain, there’s a different woman, a different ego. A part of me which wants and needs him. That doesn’t mind being his possession.

His mate.

“Don’t get me wrong-’’

“How can I get you good?”

The unintentional play on words uttered by urgent yet confused puppy eyes distracts me from the splendid explanation I wanted to give him.

How... How does he do it? Does he even know what he’s doing? Never mind.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” I begin anew, “I appreciate your concern for me and I really do feel safe with you. But you bit me. In public too! I get it’s your way of telling me you like me and maybe I don’t actually mind the mark you left behind so much-’’

“So it’s not the biting?” A boyish smirk plays on his lips. Had he had an actual tail, it would have been swishing heavily with a dangerous cheer. “I can do it again?”

“No.”

Maybe someday I’ll let you. But not anytime soon.

“But you said you didn’t mind my mark. If that isn’t a problem, why can’t I refresh it?”

“Jaebeom, please, let me finish talking.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.” I take in a deep breath. “Now, normal human couples don’t bite each other to let others and one another know they belong together. So let’s try to find other ways to do just that. Commonly, the girl wears the guy’s shirt. I think that’s a good starting point for us.”

“What are other ‘ways’?” he asks, evidently not too keen on the idea.

I tilt my head, trying to come up with the most frequent ways in which people casually express being taken without immediately suggesting obvious physical marks. “Necklaces, bracelets and rings are common couple items. Some even go as far as getting matching tattoos.”

“I like the sound of that, a tattoo. Permanent. Permanent human mark.”

“Let me think about that one, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods in agreement. “But, if I understand you correctly, I can give you a shirt.”

“You can.”

“And you’ll wear it because it has my scent on it.”

“That’s kind of the idea behind it,” I confirm, glad he understands the underlying meaning despite not explaining it.

He looks down at his chest only to discover he’s not wearing anything. The glance over his shoulder falls on a black shirt somewhere behind him. He turns away, grabs the piece of clothing and holds it tightly against his body when he turns back to me. “Sounds good to me.”

I guess I’ll be given a ‘welcome home’ present.

#GOT7 #GOT7 smut #GOT7 fanfiction #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #Werewolf AU #GOT7 Werewolf AU #Werewolf!Jaebeom

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felassan · 3 years ago

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Gamers For Groceries 2 event

A Twitch stream event from a few days ago. It can currently be re-watched here (it was fun & interesting, so I do recommend to check it out direct). This post contains some notes on things of particular interest & relevant timestamps, in case this is useful to anyone (for example bc of accessibility reasons).

First up is the All About Animating panel, a series of mini-interviews with game devs (animators) asking what they do, how they got there, and advice for anyone interested in getting into the industry. Some or all of the devs that were interviewed are currently working on DA4. They talked a bit about their day-to-day work and a lot about the craft of game dev animation in general. This segment runs from timestamp ~38 mins 40 secs to 1:07:50. Some notes:

[sounded like DA4] Right now the creature team are working on different creatures in a way which involves going through a lot of mocap data

At BioWare they have a pretty big technical animation team, to support their animators, so each tech animator has a different specialty. Tech anim involves animation support, character art support, and rigging the characters so that the animators can pose them

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] One of the featured animators’ area of specialty at the moment is faces and hair (building the control structure for face animations). First they had to decide how the face rig and its control structure would work. This involves a lot of performance capture of live actors for things like cinematics and gameplay animation, therefore the rigs for bodies and faces have to be able to accurately capture the full range of expressions and emotions that the actor is portraying. Right now the stage that this dev is working on most is setting up the heads that they’re getting through the pipeline from character art e.g. making adjustments based on feedback from the cinematics team. “Polish - just trying to get realism”

Hair tech has come quite a long way in the last few years [in the industry]

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] Hair is very complex to get right. “In the past most games have used card-based hair, which is basically like sheets of polygons with a texture on it that looks like hair, through layers of transparency. But real hair is strand-based, digital strands, so we’re starting to look into that kind of tech - try to get more realistic, more beautiful hair, but there’s always a performance cost to hair. Layers of transparent things are always an expense, they need to balance like, it looks good and moves well, but it doesn’t make your computer or console chug. [...] I guess we’re in the prototype stage but we’ve almost got a set pipeline. It’s always fun to experiment”

In Mass Effect 2 or 3, Miranda’s hair was as expensive as a whole character (!)

[on balancing hair costs/performance, general] It depends on things like character importance and how many characters are on-screen at the time. When you’re in gameplay fighting a bunch of monsters you’re not going to be giving full beautiful hair to all the characters and the monsters, as it will cost too much. (Having a helmet on is a convenient way to get rid of hair.) But if it’s a cinematic scene, with 2 characters talking to each other in a dramatic context, there’s a better budget for nice hair allocated

Some of the hair in Anthem was quite expensive in cinematics. They kept getting bugs from QA saying (for example) that a character’s hair was tripling the performance cost in the scene, so it would go back to character art so they could take away some of the hair cards. “Tough balance, quality versus cost”

“I wish all the characters could have beautiful strand hair”

For p-cap, a lot of the time they don’t want to be too prescriptive in terms of the direction that they’re giving the actors, as the actors know what they’re doing and have a lot of experience, so they give them vague instructions that they then riff off of

[sounded like DA4] They recently did a mocap shoot

[sounded like DA4] There’s a bit more productivity happening now in the pandemic situation; now that the animators are not all going to the capture lab in Vancouver in person for shoots, if it’s not their turn to direct a shot they can instead be working on something else on their computers (multi-tasking). ((Lead DA4 Producer Scylla Costa recently gave a talk at a games festival on the challenges of DA production during the pandemic. In part of this talk he talked about various benefits and drawbacks to the remote-working situation. He also talked about and showed some behind-the-scenes stuff for p-cap and mocap. Notes, images and link here))

[sounded like DA4] Special mocap suits were sent out that they can use with a laptop to go anywhere and shoot motion capture. It’s not as high fidelity as what comes out of the capture lab, but it’s really good for prototyping stuff. Before the pandemic they did some of this (going to a park and shooting some running around)

[sounded like DA4] In one of the shoots they had some actors who were really well-trained in dancing. They were trying to get them to do some combat stuff. This was a bit challenging in the pandemic situation as there’s only so much they can demonstrate/portray as an example to the actors from a distance on camera. “It’s hard to describe what a ‘dodge to attack’ is through the camera to somebody who has no idea what combat looks like in video games”

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] The pandemic has really affected performance capture for the face side of things badly, as in order to record, the actor gets dots painted on their face in specific locations by a makeup artist. They can’t do that right now because of social distancing/restrictions, so they haven’t been recording faces at the moment

The more detailed a face, the more joints it has, the more the cost to performance is

---

There was also the Writers’ Block panel, featuring DA writers Mary Kirby, Sheryl Chee and Patrick Weekes, and DA editor Karin Weekes. The timestamps for this segment are ~2:37:50 - 3:26:20. Some notes:

PW has never been weirder than when they were writing Cole on DAI

PW thinks that they accidentally wrote part of “Timber” by Kesha into Solas at one point and they were like “Well, okay, I have to stop listening to Kesha”

For Sheryl, after a while Blackwall’s VA always nailed doing his lines. She loved the quality of his voice and so after a while would always hear his voice while she was writing. This really worked out

^ Mary had this with Merrill. As soon as they cast Eve Myles she listened to several hours of her in Torchwood, and then just wrote to the way that she spoke as much as possible

^ PW had this with GDL as Solas and FPJ as Bull. As soon as they heard FPJ’s delivery, they were like “Oh, okay, I have to write some lines differently, because Bull is smarter than I realized”. With GDL they were like “Okay, he’s going to put poetry into anything I say, in the best way possible”. In early drafts of Solas lines there were parts where they [PW] wondered “Is this too melodramatic? Is this too tragically-angstful?” and then they would hear GDL and be like “Oh! [It’s fine] Game on!”

For localization, German words are often quite long so they often have to make sure that everything fits on the GUI

They think scenes like the romance scenes sound prettier in the Italian versions

Behind the curtain in creating the in-world languages: PW: “There are some awesome websites that have every elven word, like ‘Here are the translations and verb tenses and conjugations’ [etc], [...] and usually Mary and I get very sad slightly looking at those pages going like ‘Does that mean that we have to stick to that?’ [...] The rule is, if I’ve looked at the Wiki and the words, and I go ‘Here’s the correct grammatical way to do it’, and if that turns out to be too long or too many disconnected syllables and it just looks bad or sounds bad, then we shorten it to something simpler, because the key is we want to give the flavor of a foreign language, but we don’t have the world-building budget and capacity to make something that is going to be dictionary-real [in a way that] someone could go through and translate all the background things written on the old temple walls”. Part of the reason for this is the consideration for VAs, who already have to act while bearing lots of things in mind, like the cues in the script for each line

Mary: “For building a language, the first things that I started with for qunlat, elven and dwarven, was what words do we need to use the most? Greetings, farewells, words for friend and enemy, basic things that will come up easily in conversation. After that it’s ‘How difficult is this for other writers to use?’ Can they just pick it off the Wiki? Do they need just one word? Do they need to write whole sentences, and how does that work? Qunlat has almost no grammar to it because asking anyone to learn how to use Qunari grammar and conjugate verbs in a pretend language is impossible, and then once you’ve done that a human being has to be able to read it, while not knowing what any of it means”

PW: “One thing that I was really impressed with with Mary in particular doing, Mary was one of the big lore people across the entire DA series; I can look at a word and go like, ‘That has two A’s in a row, that’s definitely a Qunari word. That word is kind of long and maybe has some apostrophes and has a couple of flowy vowel sounds, that’s probably elven’, I think that’s what’s important. You want players to be able to look at a word, players want to feel smart, [like] ‘Oh I don’t know what that means but I totally know that’s a word from the Qunari people!’”. Mary: “Every language has its own set of phonemes, the sounds that they make, and the sort of word structure and spelling so that it gives a flavor to that language. Hopefully that is always chosen to be pronounceable, because again, very important that the words can be said by human beings :D”

Sheryl: “One of the fun things to do is to make up swear words in the fake languages [...] Recently Brianne wanted a word, I don’t know if she managed to find one”

The origin of bosh’tet in ME: it’s just saying “bastard” and slurring it

PW: “I feel like there are times when past writers kind of leave traps for future writers, where past writers will go ‘Okay, I’m going to write this detailed phrase in a codex entry but don’t worry, it doesn’t matter if it can never be said aloud, because it’ll never have to be voiced!’ and then, next game, guess what guys! Look what you have to make someone [a VA] say! And you’re like [facepalm], c’mon!”

Karin: “Now, four games in, we have pages and pages of all these examples, and I wanna say this, well that’s how we said something before, well that’s ridiculous, I don’t wanna say that, but now we’ve said it and it’s out there, so it’s like, how do we, y’know, how do we evolve, and sometimes we just go ‘Screw it! Languages are living languages! We’ll just say it like this now!’”

PW's favorite is the sarcastic Mythal’enaste, “Because it’s the sarcastic Mythal's blessing that basically means you’re getting screwed over somehow. I love it because Mythal nasty! Whoever wrote that clearly never thought that someone would have to say this out loud”

Sheryl wrote Bull’s joke icicles line. She also wrote Isabela’s big boats line - Jennifer took it out but then DG was like “No it has to come back”

They have a pun test, they get a few of them and have to allot them wisely so as not to oversaturate on the puns. “Is this good/bad enough to be one of the times that we pull the trigger? We did have one of those recently, I obviously can’t talk about it, but it was pronounced Okay to go ahead”

The ‘baby-est’ writer is Brianne, who’s been there 8 years

It makes PW sad that the players never get to see the writers’ temp-text [placeholder text when portions are a WIP]. “People have the best temp-text". Mary: “The number of conversations that I’ve temped in like ‘WELL. I hope nothing BAD happens HERE’”

Q. If you could bring in anybody from outside of gamedev, who would you like to work with and do a writer’s session with? PW: “I will say romance novelist Nora Roberts, she is really smart and also she knows how to write inside a genre, and do wonders within it. Her structure is so good. If you pick up one of her books, you know here’s when this is gonna happen, here’s when they’re gonna meet, here’s when this first moment will happen. We’re all experienced and I feel pretty good about that but I really like all of the things she does that way, and also I am a sucker for romance so I would love to bring a romance novelist in and just have them look at our scenes and go ‘Okay here, no, they should pull the tie so that the article of clothing comes open, we need a sense of how warm the skin is here’ - something like that. I’d wanna see what they could do with that”

“Luke writes the best worst lines”

“I’m always impressed with Mary getting away with lines. There are lines that I look at like, wow, you buried that one. [...] The only players who get that line, I feel like they earned it if they went that far into it. [...] And then Varric or Merrill says a ridiculous line in a one-time throwaway”

Karin: “The group dynamic, you’ll see conversations or snippets of a lunch chat or a thing we’ve been joking about and you’ll see it get pulled in, and how all of you [the writers] are able to take a normal kind of thing - as normal as we get as a group anyway - and then turn it into a moment, and use it to further the plot or use it to further a character. It’s just the cleverest thing and it happens in so many different ways. [...] The little snippet of life, then how you crafted it into this very cool thing”

Quartermaster Threnn was written by PW in half a day. “When I was writing Threnn, ‘Okay, this is a good-hearted [person], I was doing a little bit of Steel Magnolias, southern, no-nonsense, but like, blue collar Steel Magnolias’. This is someone accustomed to the ways of the world so she’s going to call a spade a spade. If you come up to her and you’re an elf she doesn’t recognize you and says ‘Buckets are over there’ because she thinks you’re there to clean, [but] ‘Anyone calls you a knife-ear you come to me I’ll take care of it’. It’s problematic but she’s trying - the good-hearted person rooted for the wrong group on every occasion. She was a proud Loghain supporter, she gets really exited if he comes to Skyhold. That was a fun character for me to write because I had a viewpoint in my mind. I remember someone was like ‘Threnn is really important to me’. And you have to honor that, cause you’re like ‘Cool, it means so much to me that this connected with some part of you’”

---

Also of interest was the Mass Affection panel, in which BioWare devs looked back in over a decade of history to remaster a classic. It featured devs who worked on MELE. The timestamps for this segment are ~3:36:09 - 4:24:37. Some notes:

When the pandemic hit the MELE team were in a relatively awkward spot. They were really entering into what they consider full production and were on-boarding a bunch of teams, as well as training and on-boarding third-party external partner specialized teams worldwide. When the pandemic hit, BioWare and EA were super on top of it. They were tracking it weeks beforehand, getting everyone their computers ready, and getting everything encrypted. When the middle of March 2020 hit they were home rightaway. EA were nothing but supportive throughout the entire thing. They got money every quarter for stuff. It functionally ‘hit’ at 4-6 different times for them as the pandemic occurred in different places throughout the world at different times depending on each country’s response plan (and their external partners were in different countries). “So it was one of those things where it was just like, every day we’d come in like can we still work with this company anymore? Do we need to find someone else? Do we need to pull people in off the other projects at BioWare to fill gaps here and there?”

There was a bug on Virmire at the part when you’re coming into the STG camp. If the Mako had its new boosters on and you came hurtling in really fast, it cut to the cutscene, but the Mako hit a jump and when Ash was like “What do we do now?” the Mako ended up literally flying around in the background sideways and then crashing into the camp

Another bug: when they were re-tuning the guns, the physics force on some of the guns with Hammerhead rounds was so high that when you were fighting some of the Thorian Creepers, you could ragdoll them so hard that you could basically embed them in the roof. They’d be moving so fast that they’d penetrate all the walls with their legs dangling out. It was so easy to do and you could do it to everybody. You could launch a geth halfway across an Uncharted World

Another bug: with Shepard’s casual appearance in ME3, if you didn’t have it set up perfectly correctly it would default to Grunt for some reason. You’d be walking around as Grunt, going on dates as Grunt, and your face would be all scrunched up because it was all mapped to human bones still, so it was just, like, Nightmare Fuel of Grunt

Another bug: in ME2 on Illium when trying to recruit Samara, the Asari enemies just would not stop screaming - regardless of whether they were hit or not, it was endless screaming. Later one of the devs got an audio file of the scream, endless and looped, and now one of the devs has it on their phone and uses it for their morning alarm tone

“Shepard would come up to characters and they’d just be screaming”

---

There was also the Programming Variables panel, talking about what hurdles game programmers face. Some [or all?] of the devs that were part of this panel are currently working on DA4. They talked a bit about their day-to-day work and about the craft of game dev programming in general. The timestamps for this segment are ~ 4:24:46 - 5:06:02.

[source]

[insights/notes from Gamers For Groceries 1]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #in case this is of interest to anyone #mass effect #anthem #covid mention #cole #spirit boy #solas #lul

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biletdoux · 4 years ago

Text

x marks the spot | x.dj

Member | xiaojun (nct) + gender neutral!reader Rating | g Genre + Tropes | childhood friends to lovers!au, idol!xiaojun, romance (fluff) Warning(s) | none, unless you consider badly written fluff something to be wary of lol Length | 5.1k+ Prompts | “Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you.” - Mariah Carey (All I Want for Christmas is You) + “I should be playin’ in the winter snow, I’ma be here under the mistletoe.” - Justin Bieber (Mistletoe) Playlist | All I Want for Christmas is You - Mariah Carey // Mistletoe - Justin Bieber // My Everything - NCT U

Summary | You were five years old when you met your best friend.

(Or; the cycle of waiting and wanting between you and Xiaojun throughout the years.)

Note: For the Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab hosted by @suh-insane and @neocitybynight! Merry Christmas and have a happy holiday season, everyone <333 let me know what you think!

yo,,, fluff is so hard to write, so mad respect to all the fluff writers out there.

“Hey—”

You were five years old and had a knack for stating the obvious.

“You’re not Chengxiao!” Your voice was loud and annoying, the shrill ring of it reverberated throughout the open roof. Your index finger, straight and stern, was aimed right at his face in accusation, as if it was a sin to not adhere to your expectations. “Chengxiao was supposed to be here, not you!”

The boy who was indeed not Chengxiao, as you so clearly pointed out, sniffled even louder as he clutched at his toy buccaneer sword. All around you, drying linens and laundry swayed gently in the summer breeze to the sound of his soft sniveling, before he broke out into an all out sob.

You were five years old and also insensitive in the way that five year olds were.

“Uhm,” you faltered, your pointer finger recoiled back just ever so slightly as his cries continued.

This was not supposed to happen. You were supposed to be playing hide-and-seek with your building friends and maybe grab a popsicle down the street later once you all tired out. You lost the rock-paper-scissors between everyone and had to be the first seeker. You counted all the way to 100 without even peeking once, even though you were tempted many times when you heard the occasional giggle and scattered footsteps.

Chunyang was always the easiest to find between the three of you. He was also five like you and he always hid on the sixth floor of your shared building, usually behind the large potted plants near the stairway. You actually found him behind the leaky plumbing pipes at the end of the hall, but he was still on the sixth floor nonetheless.

Chengxiao was different. She was seven years old, two whole years older than you and Chunyang, and she was also much smarter than the two of you. It was always difficult to find Chengxiao because she was more tricky and clever than your one-track minded five year old brain.

When you found Chunyang, the two of you agreed to split up and search for Chengxiao separately, the first one to find her gets the ultimate bragging rights for the rest of their life. When you shook on the deal, Chunyang immediately took off for the stairs, clumsily bounding down the steps with as much grace as a five year old could muster, which left you with only one option remaining; climbing the flight of stairs to the roof.

The roof was large and vast, filled with a sea of linen and mismatched laundry drying in the wind. The sun was at its peak in the sky as you started your searching, scouring near and wide for Chengxiao. When you nearly lost hope, you noticed a pair of white sneakers belonging to a person hidden behind a billowing bed sheet. You rushed toward it with all your might, already tasting how a sweet a lifetime of bragging to Chunyang would taste on your lips, but as soon as you yanked back the cloth, your mouth immediately turned sour at the sight of a boy with brown hair and teary eyes.

Your tone was harsher than you intended, so here you were stuck with a blubbering boy and your lifetime bragging rights out the window.

“Hey,” you tried again. You were five years old and not very good at comforting people. “My mom says children who cry won’t get any candy until they stop.”

Unsurprisingly, his cries did not cease and you were scandalized by it. The possibility of no candy left you in shock and awe, so why wasn’t he feeling the same as you?

“Who, hic, cares about candy, hic,” he started, every few words out of his mouth was staccatoed by an uncontrollable hiccup. “If I can’t see, hic, my friends!”

“Huh?” you tilted your head to the side. “Why can’t you see your friends anymore?”

It took a few seconds of blubbered hiccups before the boy answered, “cause we moved far away from them!”

You absorbed his words in quiet consideration. How would candy taste if you had to move away from Chengxiao and Chunyang? Not very good, but…

“Why don’t you make new friends?”

“I don’t want new friends! I want, hic, to go back to my old home!” Indignant, he lashed back. “I want to go back, hic, and play pirates with my old friends.”

“I’ll play pirates with you,” you offered. You didn’t think much about the rest of the words that escaped your mouth either. “I’ll be your friend. I want to be your friend.”

The boy was significantly calmer after shouting out his frustrations. He wiped at his tears and for the first time you had a good look at his brown eyes. You didn’t know it at the time, but the boy, like you, was also five years old, and five year olds calmed down as easily as they lost their temper.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, tone soft and quiet. “Would you really, hic, be my friend?”

Your smile was brighter than the summer sun that day. “Yeah, of course!”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Yeah, and I can also show you my friends right now too. We’re playing hide-and-seek.” You grabbed his free hand, the one not holding the toy sword, as you tugged him to get off the roof. He followed obediently without a word.

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked over your shoulders, your voice ringing through the roof.

“My name is Xiao Dejun.”

You were five years old when you met your best friend.

The air was crisp with the sharp, but refreshing sting of sea salt as the waves crashed onto the side of your ship. You climbed out onto the main deck to check on the progress of the voyage. The waters were steady and your trusty sea vessel rocked to the rhythm of the ocean. There were no clouds in the sky this far out into the sea and the sunlight blinded your eyes, but you didn’t need to see it to know that the treasure was straight ahead. You took another deep breath to savor the thought of future riches before you turned around to go look for your first mate.

You traveled the expanse of the main deck before reaching the weathered ratlines. The rope felt coarse to the touch as you climbed all the way up to the crow’s nest. Once you made it, there he was, standing and staring out to the wide ocean, probably lost in thought about gold and jewels.

“First mate Xiaojun.” you called.

He turned his head and smiled. “Hey, I was waiting for you.”

You fully climb into the crow’s nest and settle beside him. “We’re about to find the secret buried treasure.”

“Yes, captain,” he nodded his head in agreement.

“What do you want to do with you half?”

“Hm…” Xiaojun was contemplative. “I’ll need to buy another sword. Mine is getting rusty. What about you?”

“I would like to—��

“Class! Recess is over.” Your teacher, Mrs. Huang, interrupted you before you could finish. “It’s time to head back now.”

And suddenly your trusty sea vessel was no longer a ship, but actually a small corner of the large school playground. The tethered and hardened ratlines melted away to reveal the metal ladders of the play area and the crow’s nest was the slide tower. The sun, however, remained as bright as ever.

Your first mate looked at you and a mischievous glint crossed his eyes. “I’ll race you to the classroom!” He hollered as he threw himself down the slide and took off running as soon as his feet hit the ground. You were not far behind him as you shrieked for him to slow down.

You were eight years old and you kept your promise to him about playing pirates.

The two of you became the best of friends shortly after your encounter on the roof. You grew close to him exceptionally fast when you learned he and his family had moved to the same floor as you and your family. Chengxiao and Chunyang liked him well enough and your tight trio grew to accept a fourth corner.

When school rolled around, you were delighted to find out he was also enrolled in the same school as you and even was in the same class. Since then, the two of you had been inseparable.

He beat you to the classroom by a few steps and his smile was dazzling as he gloated to your face. You sneered back at him as you watched his fringe stick to his forehead from sweat.

“I only lost cause you cheated.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.”

You both sat down in your assigned classroom seating, with him exactly one seat behind you. Mrs. Huang announced it was independent study time, so everyone quietly pulled out their books.

When you pulled out yours, you realized you had broken your pencil and had nothing to write with. You pushed your chair back and leaned over on his desk.

“Hey Xiaojun, can I borrow a pencil?”

He was still Dejun then, but he was always Xiaojun to you.

He looked annoyed, but went to rummage for his pencil pouch in his backpack anyway. “Don’t call me that unless we’re playing. How many times have I told you to call me Dejun? That’s my name so use it.”

“But I don’t want to,” you huffed.

“And why is that?” Xiaojun found a suitable pencil and handed it over to you.

“Because,” you took the writing utensil from his outstretched hand. “You’ll always be my first mate Xiaojun no matter what.”

You returned back to your desk before you could notice the blush that colored his cheeks and you didn’t turn back to him again for the remainder of the independent study time. You didn’t realize it at the time, but Xiaojun never bothered to correct his name ever since.

You were eight years old when you became someone special to Xiaojun.

You felt hot and sticky.

Summers in Guangdong were hot and humid in ways that left you gasping for air as if you had been trudging through a thick wall of sludge. The heat was heavy and thick, reminiscent of an unpleasant weighted blanket that wrapped around you at all the wrong times and places. During the summer, the Guangdong sun was angry, and you felt as though its wrath was personal from how intensely the rays would beat down on your back as you hopped from one stall to another. Nonetheless, you were not deterred because you came here on a mission.

You were thirteen years old and wanted to do whatever it took to find your best friend the perfect birthday present.

You prepared for August 9th tirelessly with impressive care and consideration. You had been casually asking questions and fishing for hints months before the fated date to figure out the most perfect and surefire gift for Xiaojun. When you realized he wanted a new controller for his PlayStation because the ‘X’ on his current one wasn’t working half the times, you knew you had to get him a new one. And so, you started to plan.

Step one was complete. You figured out what Xiaojun wanted, but now step two was in the way. How were you going to get it for him? You were thirteen years old and you had no money. You couldn’t ask your parents for money because then that would mean your parents actually got Xiaojun the present and not you, even though it was your idea. After thinking long and hard, you decided to carefully siphon a small portion of your lunch money each day until you had enough to purchase the controller. Even though the lunch money was from your parents, the money was given to you, so now it’s your money and not your parents’ anymore and you had to work hard to save it, so using this money to buy Xiaojun the gift will be really meaningful.

You were thirteen years old and your logic was a bit off, but your heart was in the right place.

After months of saving, you finally had enough and couldn’t be happier. You had everything set and just needed to find the time to go out to the electronics store. You were so giddy that you nearly let the big surprise slip one day when you were over at his house.

It was two days before his birthday and Xiaojun was just at your house yesterday, which meant that today, the two of you would go back to his. Xiaojun’s mother was already used to this and prepared pre-cut slices of fruit for the two of you before the front door even opened. The two of you bowed in thanks before greedily grabbing the plate of fruit before barreling to his room with a large slam of his bedroom door.

You were laying on his bed munching on an apple slice in your hands and Xiaojun was at his desk on his rolling computer chair with an orange slice in his. Outside of his window, the hustle and bustle of a Guangdong afternoon can be heard, but the noise was far away for you and Xiaojun were in your own quiet little bubble.

When he finished his orange slice, Xiaojun suddenly perked up. “Hey, you want to see something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He stood up and walked over to his closet to grab a box. Inside, he pulled out two new PlayStation controllers, still in the factory wrapping and all, and your heart dropped.

“My parents got this for my birthday. They gave it to me early cause I did really well on my exams and they knew my current controller sucks,” he explained. “Want to play that new game? It’ll be so nice to finally have a working ‘X’ button.”

You felt nauseated and suddenly had to go. You were thirteen years old and you were a little dramatic.

You never gave Xiaojun a proper explanation for leaving so suddenly that day, but you had bigger problems to deal with. What were you going to do now? Step one was now out the window, but at least you still had the money you saved up, so maybe you can still make this work. It would still be okay because you had one full day tomorrow to go out and shop for his gift. Except that when you returned home, your mom informed you that your extra tutoring classes would be doubled tomorrow because your teacher will be out of town and can’t teach for the next few days. Great.

So that’s how you found yourself here, at the local street market standing under the blazing sun in your tutoring school uniform. It was summer break and your parents signed you up for additional morning classes. By the time you were let off, you’d only have an hour to shop for a gift, until it was time to go to Xiaojun’s party.

Originally, you thought one hour should be more than enough, but as you drifted from one stall to another, you realized no one had anything just right for Xiaojun and you already promised yourself you were going to get something perfect for him, and you didn't break your promises. By the time you found something perfect for him, you didn’t realize 55 minutes had passed. When you checked the time, your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. You were definitely going to be late. You paid the stall lady and barely waited for change as you made a mad dash toward Xiaojun’s apartment.

When you arrived, Xiaojun’s mother greeted you warmly and let you in. “He was waiting for you. He refused to start without you.”

Xiaojun had a small party with only close friends and you were the last to arrive. You felt embarrassed initially, but that was soon forgotten when the party started.

When it was time to open the presents, Xiaojun saved yours for last, in fact, he didn’t open it until all the guests left and it was only the two of you with his parents cleaning the aftermath of the party in the background.

He carefully pulled apart the hastily wrapped box and you held your breath in anticipation. He held up the keychain in the air to show the leather strap next to a metal charm in the shape of a ship’s helm. Xiaojun said nothing for a whole minute and suddenly you started to doubt yourself.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “I love it.”

His smile made your breath hitch.

You were thirteen years old when your heart started to feel lopsided in ways it had never had before.

The paper sitting in front of you was due soon and yet it was still there on your desk, unfinished, as if it were mocking you. You felt annoyed, but you knew at the end of the day this was your fault and only you could fix this, but no matter how hard you grasped your pen, you could not urge words of ink to spill out and fill the page. You were not sure how long you stared at the page, but you knew you had to do something about it.

You were seventeen years old and you were lost.

With an indignant huff, you grabbed the sheet of paper and marched all the way to Xiaojun’s apartment. Xiaojun’s parents were out, so it was Xiaojun himself who let you in. He was surprised to see you, but welcomed you warmly, glad to see you face.

“Hey,” he already started to make his way back to his room after shutting the front door, not even bothering to look back to see if you were going to follow because he knew you were. “What’s up?”

Immediately after entering Xiaojun’s room, you plopped yourself face down onto his pillow while holding up the white sheet of paper in the air. “This is killing me,” you groaned.

Xiaojun chuckled before taking hold of the paper. His eyes widened when he read its content. “You haven’t filled it out yet?”

This sheet of paper was going to determine your whole future. This sheet was going to be your priority list of which colleges you wanted to apply for and which major you were going to study, so your teacher could help narrow it down for you and give you some career counseling.

“I don’t know what to put,” you whined. “Help me, Xiaojun.”

“Okay, okay, do you know what school or major you’re interested in?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Fair point. Uhm. What’s the best school you think you can get in?”

“I don’t know, maybe some local university?”

“Okay… and major?”

“I don’t know, whatever department is easiest to get into I guess.”

Xiaojun gave you a pointed look. “Come on, take this seriously.”

You were seventeen years old and you were frustrated.

“I don’t know, Xiaojun! I really don’t have any clue whatsoever and everyone around me is so disappointed because I have no direction, but trust me, I can guarantee you that I’m much more disappointed than everyone around me.”

Xiaojun’s eyes softened and he moved to sit on his bed near your defeated figure. He rubbed your back gently and his tone was sincere. “I’m not disappointed in you. I could never be disappointed in you.”

You looked up at him before opening your arms wide open for a hug, which Xiaojun granted easily. The two of you laid there in easy comfort despite the impending unknown future that loomed overhead, casting a shadow of doubt in its wake. When you were with Xiaojun, none of that mattered.

After a while, your head perked up from its place on top of Xiaojun’s arms as you looked at him. “Wait, what about you? Did you fill it out? What do you want to be?”

Xiaojun laughed, “yeah, I did.”

You waited expectantly, but he said nothing. You grew annoyed. “Well? What’d you put?”

Xiaojun looked at you. His eyes were soft and warm, but you could see some faint traces of hesitation, like a surface of still water had been disturbed. The pit of your stomach dropped and you felt your throat go dry with nervous tension.

“I want to be a singer.”

You punched him lightly. “You scared me, cause you got all serious for a second.” You laughed out loud, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. “You’re for sure going to be the best singer in all of China, no, the whole world! And I’m going to be there every step of the way to support you, Xiaojun.”

“Okay,” he smiled softly, but his tone was almost bittersweet as though he was trying to pull back. “That’s good to hear.”

“Why are you acting so weird? This is not like you at all.”

He said nothing at first, but then his words hit you. All the weight off your shoulder earlier returned tenfold. “I was casted. I’m flying to South Korea next week.”

Your heart was pounding as you tried to make sense of the words that left his mouth. You remembered the first time he confided you in absolute confidence about his dreams and aspirations. You remembered countless hours he put into singing and you remembered how often he would stream videos of singers he admired. You remembered all of it.

“I’m,” you started. “I’m so happy for you, Xiaojun. This is it, this is the start of your dream. I couldn’t be more proud of you, Xiaojun, I mean it.”

The sincerity in your tone had Xiaojun choking on his words and he didn’t know what to say. All that left his mouth was, “what do you want to be?”

“Me?” Your chest felt heavy. “I think I just want to be happy.”

“Yeah,” he hummed. “I want you to be happy too.”

A week later, you saw Xiaojun off at the airport. He exchanged tearful goodbyes with his parents and suddenly he was standing in front of you. His eyes looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for something that you were not sure you were able to procure for him. You gave him the biggest hug you were able to muster and hoped all the unsaid things could be transferred through touch. The two of you stayed in each other’s arms until his flight was called. With a final wave, he was off, and when he turned around to walk toward his terminal, you saw a keychain with a metal charm and an old worn down leather strap hanging from one of the zippers of his carry-ons.

You were seventeen years old when you felt your heart swell with undeniable pride, yet break simultaneously.

You missed Xiaojun.

You were twenty-one years old when you came to terms with your feelings for your best friend. It was not an earth-shattering, cosmic-altering, reality-bending epiphany, but rather a quiet revelation followed by unspoken acceptance.

You were currently sitting in economy class on a flight en route to Seoul, South Korea. You had still kept in contact with him throughout the years he was out there pursuing his dreams. You decided to enroll in the local university and you picked a major on a whim. Despite the circumstances, you had really come to terms with it and grew to like it. You were now working hard at developing a solid career from it and you felt proud of yourself.

When text messages and video calls became few and far between for you and Xiaojun due to busy schedules and time zone differences, you knew he was something more than just a friend. Your heart fluttered whenever you heard his specially assigned notification tone. You felt giddy each time before you opened his message and you read each text at least three times before sending a reply. When you don’t hear from him on days on end due to his busy schedule, time passed by at an unbearable pace.

Xiaojun made his debut and you were one of the first to pre-order his albums. You constantly gushed and raved about his singing and his dancing. You stayed up countless nights to let Xiaojun vent and de-stress over video call despite having to sacrifice precious hours of sleep. True to your word, you were there with Xiaojun every step of the way while he achieved his dreams, but he was also there for you when you figured out your path. He was there to listen and offer advice as you considered one career path over the other and which internship to take. The two of you were there for each other.

Due to the very nature of growing up and what that entailed, both of you were very busy and the timing was always slightly off. When you were free, he had to go on tour, but when he was free, you had to go out of town for your internship. As such, you were twenty-one years old and had not had a chance to see your best friend in person for nearly four years since he left for South Korea.

But this year, for the winter holidays, it was going to be different. You were going to make time to go see him no matter what. You were firm on the requested days off and you booked the flight weeks in advance. Xiaojun was kept in the loop of your meticulous holiday planning at all times to ensure that he could free up his schedules at just the right time to see you.

The two of you never actually expressed your changing feelings for one another, but perhaps you didn’t need to. You had known each other practically your whole lives and what is a relationship if not the constant changing and finetuning of the little details?

You weren’t blind to the consistent ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts you received from Xiaojun each day without fail, nor was he blind to your constant fretting if he had eaten yet and how he should always be taking care of himself. It was the little things that sung of true love.

When the two of you had the chance to video call, his eyes would light up with a smile to match and you feel your soul ache in the most tender of ways. The two you lingered longer than necessary when it came to ‘goodbyes,’ but it was to be expected.

You smiled to yourself thinking about him as you looked outside the plane window. Your flight was landing soon and you felt your anxiety gnaw at your joints while your hesitancy took a bite of your lungs. When you landed, you felt as though the ligaments in your body rusted over and each breath of air you took never seemed like enough to flow through your system. You took a few more deep breaths to center yourself before getting up to leave the plane.

You managed to calm yourself down a substantial amount, but you felt it lurk back behind you as a sudden chill traveled up your spine during the taxi ride to Xiaojun’s dorm. It threatened to seize you by the throat, but then you realized, this was Xiaojun you were coming to see.

The same Xiaojun who cried easily and had a pirate phase through most of his childhood. The same Xiaojun who took long bites in between food and would lose in arm wrestling matches. The same whose voice could reach unknown heights with a dedication and devotion to match. The same Xiaojun who was your best friend since childhood. The same Xiaojun whom you loved.

And with that, whatever haunted you dissipated and you found yourself at the steps of his dorm. You watched as your breath came out in chilly wisps as you knocked on the door. The sound of padded footsteps ambling along hardwood floors were heard and suddenly you were face to Xiaojun after a whole four years without him.

The two of you took each other in. Video calling did not do Xiaojun justice. He really matured into his features over the years and you couldn’t help, but stare.

Xiaojun broke the silence first. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, you yourself,” you breathed.

“Come on, don’t just stand there,” Xiaojun ushered as he helped you grab your luggage. “It’s cold outside.”

You followed him as he led you to his room. You looked around with curiosity as you passed by. The WayV dorm was cozy, but surprisingly empty, not that you minded. When you got to his door, Xiaojun saw the look on your face and knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Everyone’s out right now,” he explained. “I can formally introduce you to them when they get back.”

You nodded and watched as Xiaojun placed his hand on the door knob, before stopping in hesitation. He looked at you in earnest. “Promise me you won’t laugh, okay?”

“Nothing can phase me, Xiaojun. I practically lived at your house and vice versa, or did a few years abroad make you forget that already?” You teased.

He gave you a look, but opened the door for you nonetheless. You expected a messy room with random socks strewn on the floor and the desk chair stacked high with a pile of clothes, but what greeted you nearly took your breath away.

The floor was spotless and fairy lights lined the walls and occasionally looped around the floor. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner dimpled with various ornaments of various sheen and sparkles. Xiaojun led you to the center of the room where the various colored fairy lights crossed one another’s path. A mistletoe tied on the fanlight hung overhead.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

Xiaojun smiled as he drew you in closer. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I really wanted it to be something special. Merry Christmas.”

You started to tear up as you moved to meet Xiaojun in the middle, “I love you, Xiaojun.”

You were twenty-one years old when you kissed your best friend. His lips were soft and his tongue sweet. He tasted vaguely of vanilla lip balm and peppermint bark, he tasted like the love of your life.

When you pull back from the kiss, the adoration in his eyes made you greedy for another, so you dove back in, but not before Xiaojun can let out a quick laugh and a reaffirmation.

“I love you, too.”

The two of you kissed and kissed again, under the mistletoe.

You were twenty-one years old and you were happy.

masterlist.

#neowritingsnet #nctcreations #cznnet #xiaojun scenario #xiaojun fanfic #xiaojun fluff #nct scenario #nct fanfic #nct fluff #wayv scenario #wayv fanfic #wayv fluff

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c-is-for-circinate · 4 years ago

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Y’all this episode had everything I could possibly have wanted and things I never even knew to wish for.

How did one episode start with Henry Crabgrass, the most glorious and beloved NPC of my heart, and end with mother fucking Avantika, with so much awesome shit in between!!! How!!!

Okay I am making a list of shit I absolutely loved tonight, in approximate chronological order:

Y’all I just love Henry Crabgrass so much. I don’t even have smart things to say about that fact, just a warm glow in my heart. May all the light of Melora’s grace smile down upon them and leave Henry as the toughest, most unkillable patch of crabgrass in all Exandria.

Vess and the Tombtakers, so many questions and so few certain answers, so many things to wonder, so many dots to connect! I really do feel like the crew are connecting them at this point, and while I’m sure in some places they’re far from the map, the general outline really is starting to emerge. What, exactly, was in the book the Tombtakers tried to claim without showing it to Vess deRogna first? What did it do to Lucien? And, if Vess has the book--what are they trying to find now?

So okay, let’s talk about Yasha and Beau. As someone who has had a lot of feelings about the intense relatability of Beau’s crush on Jester, I have now fully committed to also having a whole lot of mostly new feelings about these terrible awkward disaster lesbians with no fucking idea what they’re doing. I saw a post the other day mention how this whole relationship is about the feeling of discovering you can have this, that you can actually be happy, that you get to have this kind of relationship with someone. I’ve written about that. And I feel it so, so hard, every time I see them interact, when every bit of bravado leaves both of them. It’s so easy to be off-putting! It’s so easy to have crushes on wonderful people you kind of wish would look at you but you’re absolutely sure never will. It’s so hard to actually know what the fuck to do in the face of wait shit this might actually be a thing I could get for real? how? wait, how???

Also let’s talk about Jester in that scene, who ships Beauyasha harder than anything in the world??? Because yes, right, some of it is just that Jester loves romance, and some of it’s that Jester gets very invested in the happiness of her friends, but that is a lot of investment there. And I can’t help wondering if there’s a little dimension of...she wants to see True Love and Happily-Ever-After work. And she’s delighted to see it work for her friends who she loves, and when it comes true they’ll be happy and she loves that, but also I don’t know that Jester’s ever actually seen two people fall in love with each other and enter into a healthy, happy relationship before. But hey, all of her books say this wonderful magical thing exists, and now it seems to actually be showing up for her friends? Of course she wants to see it. Of course she wants it to be just as magical and wonderful as in all her stories, even if it’s not for her. (And maybe especially if it’s not for her, but I think that’s a whole separate post about Jester and her very high passive insight and all the people who are in love with her and the very specific ways she treats each of them.)

I love Yeza. Don’t we all love Yeza? He’s trying so hard. It’s always great to see Yeza for that kind of wide-eyed outsider POV on the M9 shenanigans, and I love it. He made a comment this episode about meeting goblins while living in Rosohna, and everything that’s happened to him really hit me in a while new way. Usually I think about how he’s had his life turned upside down by all of this, but man, just think how much he’s seen that he never in a million years would have begun to expect to experience! This smalltown alchemist from a pastoral little farming city in the middle of the Dwendalian midwest has lived for a significant amount of time as a housekeeper in the capitol city of the Krynn Dynasty. He must have gone to the markets and met the neighbors and learned the streets and the food, and who had he ever known in his whole life who could say such a thing? He lived with the Ruby of the Sea in Nicodranas by the ocean. He’s been to Zadash, now, and it’s only a matter of time before he sees Rexxentrum. How much farther will he go? (Man, I would love some good Yeza fic once this campaign is over. I think it’s going to take that long for me to really know how his story arc ends.)

Someone was posting earlier this episode about witnessing Vess scare Yeza so badly, and insight into how the Nein are starting to run in circles that really outstrip the people they used to know. Watching Pumat in the wake of being Informed By Lady de Rogna That He Would Put A Rush On That has really hammered it home. They remarked, in their very M9 somewhat idle vaguely ridiculous way that they wanted the icebreaker, and one tiny snowman later Vess had pulled rank and money and rerouted the ship’s entire passage for them. She’s scary--and with her, the M9 have the kind of power that’s scary, too. And that’s always such an interesting moment. The M9 are used to thinking of themselves as people with very little, who have to fight and scrap and get lucky for their own survival all the time. And yes, they’re utterly careless with money--why not be, when it comes and goes and almost none of them have ever really seen it help or last? And yes, they’re prone to violence and sometimes pretty rude. But before now, it’s always been a situation where the M9 acting loud, rude, and demanding could be chaotic underdogs scrapping to get what they needed or wanted from people who had the option of saying no. Suddenly they’re in a position where the balance of social situations is biased in their favor instead of against them. There’s such a difference between ‘please accede to my unreasonable request because I have a high charisma and will pay you lots of gold’, and, ‘you’re going to accede to my unreasonable request because otherwise my Cerberus Assembly boss may or may not have you assassinated’. The M9 have never been on this side of that before. I’m very curious to see how much they notice that they are now.

PALADIN OATH PALADIN OATH PALADIN OATH! I was not paying nearly enough attention when that scene started, so I am going to need to watch it again and also make extra sure to read any available source material on this specific homebrew oath, because it’s probably not exactly the same as the Oath of the Sea homebrew you can find on google. There’s some overlap between the abilities there and the ones Fjord already have, and the vows don’t quite match up, though some of them are close. Ugh, mostly I’m just so glad it has happened and Fjord has promised and he means it, he means it so much. He rest-of-his-life means it, and my heart belongs to Fjord who couldn’t even imagine the rest of his life as a thing separate from the monotony of his first thirty years, so very recently.

I actually always really love when CR has episodes at sea? Obviously the M9 have done it the most, but Vox Machina went sailing a time or two as well, and it’s just always so great. It’s often days of down time in a way that overland travel isn’t, and the party fills it with so many good little moments. Matt always gives them such cool encounters. On boats, spending a week at a time getting from one place to another, so much of the chaos of rewriting a plan seventeen times in an hour gets stripped away: they’re headed towards a destination, sometimes something comes up to deter them, and they have to find a way to deal with it. There are always crew members and the structure of a boat itself to take into consideration in any combat that pops up. It’s just such a nice tone, and I also love that the ocean itself kind of hates them now because it adds really delightful additional risks, and anyway heck yeah ocean voyage.

WHICH ENDS IN UNDEAD AVANTIKA ATTACKING THE SHIP WITH A TRIO OF CRAB-MEN AND WHO KNOWS WHAT ELSE HOLY FUCK. Look, I think M9 becoming pirates by accident and then trying to figure out wtf might actually be my favorite arc of this campaign so far, and every time it comes back I get so so happy. I’ve got some feelings about this showing up in the same episode as Fjord finally taking his full oath to the Wildmother. They are going to have to kill U’kotoa before this campaign is through. They are going to have to, because Fjord will never be safe on the ocean again if they don’t, and Fjord has bound himself by vow and will in service as the Wildmother’s paladin of the open sea. She hasn’t asked it of him, not specifically, but it’s his job. It’s going to be his job. In part it’ll be because it’s poetic justice, Fjord taking down the cruel demigod who (in some ways) made him. Mostly it’s just that killing U’kotoa is a job that needs to be done. To protect the oceans, the life they hold, the people who sail upon them, it’s going to need to be done. It’s Melora’s domain to do this, which means it’s her paladin’s job, and Fjord is her paladin of the sea. It’ll be him sooner or later.

I am so fucking delighted at the massive pile of fireworks on the deck of this ship, and I hope to god these Chekhovian bottle rockets go off before the end of this combat encounter, because this is, in fact, all I ever wanted the minute Beau put them in there.

#CR spoilers #episode 112

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cateringisalie · 3 years ago

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My list of bearable Binal Bantasy VII tags is thinning...

But seriously. Being skeptical of Tifa’s narration of past events is not without merit. By the time the Lifestream scene rolls around she has been through three comas and some grevious injuries. The Lifestream scene is as revelatory for her as it is for Cloud.

The new assertion she was in any way actually friends with Cloud is not only in conflict with the OG’s portrayal but counter to Cloud’s development, her development, the growth of their relationship as adults and why (in general) people have them stay together post game.

Its unnecessary, frustrating and further damaging Tifa’s character who is spinning off further from who she was.

That Tifa and Cloud were not actually childhood friends does not mean they do not have a relationship in FFVII. It does not mean they cannot be together. Tifa “falling in love” with Cloud at the water-tower does not for a second make their later relationship any more meaningful.

All this new ship information does is make the relationship have longer longevity than previously assumed. As if whichever relationship has lasted longer is betterer and stronger. As if this should automatically undercut any other relationship Cloud or Tifa can possibly experience.

(in fact - and darkly cynically - this feels a lot more like enforcing that Cloud/Tifa and Zack/Aerith operate in near exactly the same way. The pairs fall in love in record time (two years prior to the Nibelheim incident both times as far as I’m ware), the boys go missing and the girls never move on with their lives. I get the boys have gone missing without a shred of explanation or closure, but now for both of them people are willing to wipe out a quarter of their lives waiting. Teenagers are resilient you know? They will be inconsolable if this happened but they would bounce back a lot faster and cleaner than they would expect. The approval of the never moving on this is purely to keep the shipping uncomplicated. There can only be one pairing for Tifa, there can only be one pairing for Aerith. And if you think otherwise you’re wrong in canon. And who wants to write or read about a non-canon ship? Unless its yaoi/yuri in any case. I am so tired)

Childhood friends incidentally is not, however much some insist, a common trope of the series - unless you stretch it a fair amount and it encompasses a trivial number of the pairings. And none of the big ones (you know; Squall/Rinoa or Tidus/Yuna).

Could Tifa do with more backstory? Of course. Did Tifa’s mother deserve a name? Absolutely! But not like this. Not when Cloud helping round up cats in Remake is now tied to finding Tifa’s cat in a new authored backstory. This speaks again to the constant magpie-ing of existing imagery and moments from older parts of FFVII to feed the present. The retconning in of importance by changing the meaning of otherwise unimportant moments.

Tifa is not and never was under any obligation to like Cloud as a child. She did not bully him, but neither should she expected to involve him in anything she did. I understand the book has muddied this gloriously, but for what effect?

I mean, I know where the desperation to make Cloud and Tifa childhood friends stems from. I know why you want Cloud to have fallen in love with Tifa at like age 5 or something and for Tifa to fall in love with him at 13. And I rail against it all the time that its not necessary. Being first does not mean better.

Maybe I am old, cynical and exhausted, but I kind of like watching Cloud and Tifa grow closer in FFVII. I like watching Cloud and Aeris grow closer in FFVII. I like to experience these things where I can... experience them? I don’t like reading books which assert things in blunt statements that clarify exactly what the writer intended. I certainly don’t have the patience to wait for a later book to clarify what happened on-screen when I have drawn my own conclusions based on my preferences. Especially as this is all contributing to that continued sense that the OG is a smelly, badly designed embarrassment we would rather tiday away for the crime of being graphically inferior (never mind it was championed on its looks on release) and “goofy” (and apparently unable to run the gamut of emotions I remember from serious to comedy, to silly, to tragic, to pessimistic and quietly optimistic and moving).

I’m coming back to this point to stress it - I want to see the relationship growth. Remake gave me that for Aerith and Cloud even if the details aren’t to my taste. First meeting is awkward because hey, random stranger/Cloud is tired. Cloud gets involved and spends more time with Aerith. And the high-five thing is used as a clumsy/awkward/eh but clear metaphor for how their relationship develops over the course of their time together.

To the point that yes, it makes sense for Cloud to want to rescue her. Less sense for Elmyra and Tifa to be “Well they might not vivisect her” and then delay for two full chapters, but the whole thing flows.

And here’s where I get accused of being a fake fan: I don’t like how Cloud and Tifa’s relationship develops in Remake. Flirting. Tifa being mildly fazed by Cloud claiming its been five years. Scared when he almost kills Johnny. Maybe hurt depending on your resolution scene (hey podcast people! No Gold Saucer multiple dates because too expensive? How are there branched resolution scenes in Remake then?). But there isn’t growth. They seem to fit into each other’s lives without worry, bit of flirting, strange super-intense moments jammed into inappropriate sequences (the train roll, climbing the plate, Cloud remembering the promise unprompted, Tifa not actually engaged with Avalanche’s plans). There’s no sense anything has changed between them, the missed five years has done anything to them.

And I’m sure some would take this as proof of correctness. But... somehow Remake is better for realism despite a lot of new clumsy, but this relationship is not dinged for being implausible? No way does that five year gap not seriously impact any prior relationship to say nothing of developing from scratch.

See this was a neat thing about the OG; while Tifa seemed to have an edge over Aerith by knowing Cloud longer, he was in effect meeting them at the same point in his life and more or less starting from scratch with both. Both ships are valid, and even if Cloud is with Tifa come the end, it doesn’t mean he can’t have romantic feelings about both women.

Oh, but Nojima has changed his mind/always intended it this way. And? I can change my mind about liking what he’s written - and my patience and tolerance of Nojima has waned massively since 1997. To the point where his involvement invokes a pained groan from me.

Plus the hilarious attitude that this is from the same people who insisted “the OG will always be there, stop moaning about Remake”. Well guess what? I don’t like Remake and I don’t really want it around. The OG is better.

Yes, Tifa is under-served and sure, it could be clearer about shipping (but the apparent hostility to ambiguity and personal interpretation is deeply distressing. These things can mean something to you and don’t have to mean the same thing to everyone. Interpreting the romancs - again - not a competition).

BUT

I will take the OG version of Tifa where she believed in the cause, where she had friends (again, yes, the relationship between Tifa and the rest of Avalanche is not well depicted, but it was better than actively curtailing it), where she ran a bar THAT ACTUALLY OPENED AND SERVED CUSTOMERS, where she hated Shinra, where she didn’t know how to treat Cloud because she had only really talked to him once in her life and DESPITE THAT that they great closer and spent their last night before THE END OF THE WORLD together over the Remake.

Where Tifa is wary of Cloud for about 5 seconds, twice and then defaults to constant flirting. Where Cloud is near smothering Tifa every second they’re together and she doesn’t tell him to fuck off once. Where she’s allied with Avalanche but hates their methods (and the pacifists are in a shop around the corner and she is not with them because...?). Where she has some absurd contrived plot about medical bills and buying Seventh Heaven for Barret and Marlene.

Which would lead to a whole other rant titled “Marle is the Worst” but this has dragged on quite long enough.

But seriously; if you argue that we can’t hate Remake because OG is always there, then you have to stop applying Remake back to OG and using it as proof. Which is exactly why many people bemoaned the Remake at all. OG is one thing, Remake is another. I don’t care for the latter.

And I know if anyone does read all this it will be about the meanie Cleriths who diminish Tifa for no good reason. And yes, they are indeed acting in bad faith. But what makes you think for a second evidence will convince these people?

In particular, the argument has raged so long and always will because if people do not like a ship they will not accept it as canon (if they care about this as a factor) NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. Literally. Look at Loki if you want the most recent example of this.

Canon is to many “what I want” and often does not tally with the general interpretation. And you know, if being “canon” or guessing right early wasn’t triumphed as such a vital thing, we might not get these really terrible and pointless arguments.

Canon is a prize but here’s the big secret: fandom - in general - does not care. FFVII is an excellent case example given Sefikura overwhelms the other ships (and I think AZGSC is close?). And that’s not canon. That’s not even in the ballpark of the Cloud/Tifa vs Cloud/Aerith arena (even give that the former is roughly twice the size of the latter, you already won, so please stop?). Canon is only important if you think its important - and you get some more official art of sequences you can gif. And maybe you get kissing/implied sex/marriage/kids, but most of all you get a smug sense of superiority. And the last is why I have no patience with this.

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wonwhomps · 4 years ago

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Warming You Up

➻ Warnings: Language // Mentions of blood // Scientific, criminology and medical inaccuracies

➻ Words: 10.1k

➻ Genre: Angst // Romance // Humor

➻ Pairings: Jeon Wonwoo x Female Reader

➻ Summary: Heart is freezing. Arm is bleeding. You yearn for warmth. He needs to heal. Are you each other’s cure? You need to hold on.

She looked pretty.

She's beautiful.

Woah, what's her diet?

It's nothing new hearing whispers about how intimidating you look, how good you look, and how perfect you are. Little did they know, behind this face is a person longing for a warm embrace. You craved for love and even if you know it won't work, you're doing everything to make it last. You're cold inside and you badly wanted to make it warm, sacrificing everything you worked hard for.

Wearing a red turtleneck partnered with black jeans, a black 3-inch heels, and a black dress coat that protects you from the cold wind, you made your way to the place where your recent relationship started—the park.

It's illuminated with fairy lights stringed at every tree branches, fireflies are also flying around the place making it seem more magical than it already is, but you know more than that. This is not a magical moment every kid dreamed of. This is about facing the reality that you keep on denying for about 2 months now.

You held the strap of your black shoulder bag tightly and inhaled sharply as the silhouette of your boyfriend approaches you. You stood still until he reaches you.

You could see his breath vapor as he sighed in front of you. It's cold.

Before he could even open his mouth to say something, you held his hands and started sobbing. "S-stay, please."

He clicked his tongue. "So it's true, you're going to give everything just to make your boyfriend stay. You must be out of your mind," said your boyfriend before he harshly tugged his hands back out of your hold.

You felt your heart freeze. No.

You tried to think of other things to say to make him stay even just for another day. You don't want to feel cold again. Being with him helped you feel a glimpse of the one you craved—warmth. It's not enough to make you feel completely warm but you had no other choice.

Cold wind is gushing by making you shiver more than you already are. Your heart is shouting and begging to feel warmth. It's slowly starting to make your legs weak causing you to place your hand on his arm for support but he thinks otherwise. He jerked your hand off of his arm making you stumble and fall on the cold ground.

"We're done here. I only dated you for sex anyway and you didn't even give me a taste. How could you ask me for staying when you couldn't even give me what I want."

You shake your head. "N-no, don't leave me. I--", you held your chest tightly hoping it would help ease the ache it gives. "U-use m-me..."

He looked over you with disgust. "You need help," is what he said before he left you shivering and hurt on the cold floor.

Thump.

Your heart is slowly killing you. You didn't understand how weak you are every time this things happen. You felt small and you hate it. It seems like you've ran out of tears, you wanted to cry but you can't.

Fireflies are flying over your head. You tried reaching one, letting your hand stay mid-air. Thoughts filled in your mind like if you have died earlier, none of this would have happened and that you won't feel any more pain. If only you didn't wish for another life you could've been by your mother's side right now. But you wished. You lived. You hurt. You're cold. "I-i am cold," you said trying to hug yourself to warm your freezing body. You looked up in the sky and there you saw the first snow fall of the year. You didn't even bother standing up, you gave up.

You're running out of breath until you felt a pair of arms wrapping you with a warm cloth that you think belongs to the person in front of you. You heard them sigh. "Miss, are you here because you want to suffer hypothermia? It's freezing out here what were you thinking?" You looked up to see a handsome man maybe around the same age as you, but what caught you off-guard is how close your faces are. You looked away out of embarrassment. You heard him clear his throat. "Let me take you to the nearest hospital, you look awful."

Surprised, you looked back at him and saw him staring at you raising an eye brow. That's the first time you ever heard someone say you're awful. You didn't feel insulted at all.

He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants before offering his hand to help you stand up. However, you just looked on his hand because you can't even move your hands at this point. "What? You can't stand?," he said. You shook your head slowly. He huffed before kneeling down. He placed his arm around your back and hoisted you up so that he can place another arm around your knee before completely lifting you up. You automatically encircled your arms around his shoulders for support.

You heard him mutter a curse. "Looks can definitely kill," he said before heading to the hospital which happens to be just around the corner. He tried starting a conversation with you but you feel light-headed and it seems like for every second passing by, you're slowly losing your consciousness.

He felt your head fall on his chest and he lets out a sigh of relief when he reached the hospital just in time. Nurses motioned him to place you on the bed and they started checking your vitals. They gave you IV fluids to replenish the amount of water your body had lost.

"The patient worked herself up. She needs to be given IV fluids because she's dehydrated. I suggest to stay by her side for a moment because this kid right here has Trypanophobia."

He looked at the doctor. "How did you know she's afraid of injections?"

"Y/n's always here for the same reason," the doctor pats his shoulder before leaving.

He went to the nurses' desk and told them he would be back. He went out to find a convenience store to buy some food. While waiting in line to pay, he remembered seeing you getting busted by your boyfriend, he thought. How could a man like him leave a lady like her? What a jerk. He was back to reality when someone tapped his shoulder.

"Uhm... H-hi! Could we take a picture?"

He raised an eye brow before saying, "Uh, no sorry." After that, he paid what he bought and went straight back to the hospital. He waved a hand to the nurses before entering your room just to see you staring right at him.

"I thought you have Trypanophobia? Did you panic when you saw the needles?," he asked while you still stare directly at him.

"Yeah, I did. I shouted... Ah!," you said sarcastically. You heard him snickered then you realized this man beside you is a complete stranger but it doesn't feel awkward at all. Clearing your throat, "What's your name?," you asked.

He sat on the stool beside your bed and showed you a paper bag full of edible foods. "I figured you wouldn't want to eat hospital food. Here you go, Y/n! Eat the sandwich first while it's still warm.

Hearing your name, you looked at him confused. You raised an eye brow, indirectly asking the question to how did he know your name, which he immediately caught and proudly answered, "I just know," with a smirk curving in his lips. "Eat it up, you look indecent and a living dead," he said while unwrapping the sandwich before handing it over to you.

You took it and slowly munch on it. You feel uncomfortable since he's just staring at you while you're trying to feed yourself with a sandwich. "You eat like a hamster. You're now a zombie hamster," he said while trying his best not to laugh in which you returned with a deadly glare. He stopped laughing and motioned you to continue eating. "By the way, you owe me. I ditched my friends tonight because I pity seeing you freezing to death outside. I am a very helpful person that's why and being handsome just adds up to it," he said.

He saw you rolled your eyes and that made him smile. "You're too full of yourself, you didn't even answer my question earlier. I'll only believe you know everything if you give me a valid answer." He tilted his head while looking at you.

"I know it. It's written in my blood."

Silence filled the room. Only the sound of the AC is heard and you just stared at him, totally confused. "You're joking, right?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, probably."

He accompanied you for an hour until he has to bid farewell and call it a night. You did not know he already left since you were sound asleep and he didn't want to wake you up from your rest so he left silently, leaving a piece of note on the bedside cabinet.

I hope we meet again zombie hamster. , Wonwoo The next morning, you were discharged and you paid your hospital bills. A nurse handed you your things that are placed on the cabinet including a piece of paper that you just tossed inside your shoulder bag.

"Y/n, I hope you never come back here. It's not that we don't want to see you, but knowing that you're here only means that you're sick and you need medication. Start thinking about yourself for once and set aside the unnecessary things. Don't let your heart control you, fight it."

You flashed a small smile and nodded at Dr. Yoon. He is right, I should think about myself for once but am I not taking care of myself since I only did these things to help my freezing heart? Before leaving you gave them a smile and waved your hand to them. You hailed a cab and gave them your address. You just want to take a bath and lay down on your bed all day wearing your favorite pajamas, watching Netflix while eating bananas.

Wonwoo woke up from a deep sleep while catching his breath. He looked over at his blanket feeling something wet.

"Shit!"

It happened again, he thought. Rushing to his bathroom, he carefully folded his bloody long sleeves revealing a written statement with his blood on his arm. He muttered a curse from the pain while reading it. He positioned his affected arm at the sink and slowly cleans it, wincing from the pain.

He washed his face afterwards and faced the mirror. He attempted to steady his breathing but he failed. He quickly went back to his bedroom, discarding the stained blanket on the laundry and grabbing his notebook and a pen.

'xxxx cafe'

It has been 3 weeks since his first encounter with you, 2 months since his blood wrote your name and a month since he discovered you were somewhat related to his life. In his notebook, a list of the things his blood wrote on his arm was noted. From your name down to the places you might go, he don't know the real reason behind those places but when he found you at the park, it gave him a hint that these are the places you will fall or experience pains.

It's snowing heavily but you still have to go outside to meet your client and talk about the designs they want for their house. You prepared your things and wore a white formal sweater partnered with denim jeans and black boots ending just below your knees. You took a bite on your sandwich and grabbed your dress jacket before leaving.

You arrived at the cafe your client suggested and started to look for them. You received a text message that they will arrive a bit late because of traffic so you sat on the corner of the cafe while scanning their menu.

You felt a presence in front of you and before looking up a glass of water was splashed right on your face.

"Fuck you! So you're the one my husband will meet today even if it's snowing real hard. Stop being a bitch and how dare you seduce a married man!?"

You were running out of breath as you look into the woman's eyes. You felt your chest tightened. You don't know what is she talking about. You didn't seduce anyone, you are here to meet a client not a married man. The woman didn't get satisfied with just splashing you a glass of water. She went near you and grabbed your hair, forcing you to look up. "M-ma'am, you're hurting me. Please, stop." You tried removing her hand but she grabbed it even tighter making you cry in pain.

She kept yelling about how fucked up you are seducing his husband and being a desperate woman who just wants to be fucked. The customers inside the cafe just stared at you in disgust, believing all the lies this woman is saying.

"No wonder she looked rich and pretty, she must have been seducing every rich man to make her way up."

Hearing all those whispers, your heart started clenching and a tint of coldness once again sparked. You didn't know where to focus, to your heart or to her hand grabbing your hair. The cafe's door opened and a man entered making his way to your direction.

"He is probably the husband."

They were right. The man took off his wife's hand off of you and gave you an apologetic smile for causing you trouble. Your heart is beating faster than normal and makes it even harder to breathe. You tried asking for help but they didn't even bother asking you what's wrong.

They are so quick to judge.

You started feeling light-headed and you could feel your heart slowly freezing. You whispered a curse. Holding your chest tightly, you tried to stand up but your legs suddenly became weak causing you to fall on the wooden floor. Customers looked over you, some gasped and looked surprised but some didn't bother looking at all. You tugged your jacket in your body hoping it would help make your heart feel warmth but it didn't. You once again called out for help, but no one even budge. If my heart will completely freeze I wish to hug my soulmate even if it's our first and last, you thought.

Wonwoo was caught up in a company meeting. He was anxious the whole time that he didn't even understand a thing. He checked his wrist watch and a sigh of relief escaped his lips because there's only 2 minutes left before the meeting is adjourned.

He didn't even bother removing his glasses as he made his way to the cafe he saw earlier on his arm. It was just a walking distance from their building. He didn't know why but he felt like running, so he did.

He reached the cafe while catching his breath. He saw something weird, customers were all looking to the left corner of the cafe and whispering some things. Looking at where the rest was eyeing, he recognized it was you. He ran quickly to you and hugged your trembling body on the floor. He hears your muffled sobs as you try to ease the pain your heart is giving you.

"Shh... Y/n, it's okay. I'm here now. Shh..." he said trying to calm you down.

He placed his head above yours and tightly hugged you as you still tremble. You were freezing, he was sure of that.

Before he came you could feel it. Your heart was almost fully frozen. It aches so bad you can't even cry and what hurts more is that the people around you didn't even bother helping you. But when he came, you were confused. Why does it feel warm? Where is this warmth coming from? His embrace made you calm and helped you even out your breathing. He continued hugging you until he felt your body relaxing. He made you face him. "Let's get you out of here," he said and you just nodded in response.

Wonwoo decided to bring you to his house after he noticed that your clothes are wet. You were already shivering from the cold so wearing wet clothes will just worsen it. He motioned you to sit down on the sofa while he grabs one of his shirts to replace your wet sweater. You explored your eyes around his living area and you could say that he's a very clean person and he's got the nice choice of set of furniture and designs in his home. You saw a frame with him on it and the woman beside him is his mother, you assumed and capsule caught your attention. It was placed on the coffee table beside the frame. You were about to get it but you heard him clear his throat that made you startle.

"H-here you go. The bathroom's over there," he said trying his best not to look at you, pointing his finger to where the bathroom is located. You get the shirt from his hand and followed the direction of his finger pointing to his bathroom.

Entering the bathroom, you gaped when you faced the mirror. "That's why he wasn't looking at me," you whispered while looking at yourself. Due to the water that was thrown at you, your bra was showing through your wet sweater. You quickly changed your sweater to his gray shirt that ends on your thighs, making it looked like you were wearing a short dress shirt.

Wonwoo prepared two cups of coffee while you change your clothes. He couldn't help but blush when he saw you at the living room earlier. "Fuck you," he whispered for himself. He didn't know he was already pouring the hot water on the wrong direction until you guided his hand on the cup and said, "Cup's over here." And that time Wonwoo swore time has stopped. He was startled by your sudden appearance.

You sat on the chair and placed your elbows at the table while you admire his back. You saw him stir the coffee before placing it in front of you and sat opposite you. You clutch the mug to feel the warmth of the coffee.

"I wanted to ask you if you're alright, but I already have an answer to that. So, do you want to talk it out?," he cleared his throat and sipped on his coffee.

"It's weird. I actually thought it's the end for me earlier," you sighed. "I'm there to meet a client but an enraged woman confronted me instead." You looked into his eyes.

"It's been a while, Wonwoo."

He almost choked on his coffee when you said his name. "I thought you wouldn't see the note I left at the hospital. Glad to meet you again," he gave you a small smile.

The room was silent until you said something. "Could I tell you something? I haven't told anyone of this and I feel comfortable with you, that's why."

Wonwoo nodded, "I'm all ears."

You didn't want to continue at first but you eventually started talking. "I... I have a freezing heart. Whenever I feel weak and defeated, I could feel it's slowly beginning to freeze. I have suffered from it ever since the day my mother died and lately, I figured having a companion helps it feel warm enough to stop it from completely freezing," you placed your hand on your chest, "But earlier it was thawed and I feel warm," you looked down. You were confused and tried to figure out what happened earlier but you can't.

"The reason why I always look for a lover is because I want to survive. I couldn't live the life I wanted because of this heart. I didn't ask for having too many relationships, but it's the only way I would live."

Wonwoo just stared at you while listening to your words. So that's why he saw you at the park that night, you were completely shivering. If he arrived behind time, it would've been too late. Speaking of time, Wonwoo realized that it's already past their noon break. He asked you if you wanted to go home so he would hail a cab. "Could I stay for awhile?," you asked which made him stilled. Wonwoo nodded and made his way to the front door. "There are snacks in the cupboard!," is what he said before closing the door.

You stood up and washed the mugs before heading back to the living room. There are 2 more doors near the bathroom and you assumed are his room and a guest room. You sat down and leaned back on the sofa and pondered for a bit. "Sooner or later I have to find him again. Miracles like this won't always happen," you said to yourself while holding your chest.

You have slept on the sofa for an hour and when you looked at the clock it's already 4 o'clock. You remembered Wonwoo mentioned there are snacks in the cupboard, so you went and started searching for food. You also checked his fridge and found ingredients for soup. You're not the best at cooking, but you still want to make him food as a way to say thank you for letting you rest in his place.

When Wonwoo entered the house, his stomach rumbles from the aroma of your dish. "You didn't have to, you know," he said approaching you before sitting on the island chair. You scooped a soup and placed it on a bowl before giving it to him, "I wanted to cook for you to say thanks." He gladly accepted it and silently started eating it. "Why aren't you eating?"

"I already ate a little and I was just waiting for you so I could say that I'm going home," you said before drinking a water. Wonwoo quickly finished his soup, "Let me take you home."

You just nodded in response. It wasn't that far for you to take a cab home but Wonwoo insisted to ride a cab since it was snowing hard. Inside the cab, you just stare at the window and watched the snow fall. Wonwoo, however, was lost in thought.

Earlier at their office, his arm started bleeding again so he immediately went to the comfort room and looked at it to read the written words, but there's nothing being written. It just bled for no reason. His heart was beating fast and he didn't know what was happening. Normally, his arm would bleed because something is being written related about you, but there was none. He yelped in pain when water touched his arm.

"We're here."

Wonwoo looked over you and saw you unbuckling your seatbelt. He raised an eye brow. "I said we have arrived," you said to him before taking your wallet to pay the cab. Wonwoo got his wallet quickly and paid it before you. You were about to contest but he cut you off.

"Go inside now, don't forget to wear warm clothes," he pat your head, "We'll meet again, Y/n."

You didn't know why but your cheeks have flushed red when he pat your head. You thought it's maybe because of the cold.

Before going back home, Wonwoo dropped by a pharmacy and bought medicine. He felt like he's losing so much blood just from today's events. He would still figure out the reason behind his bleeding earlier. "There's nothing written, it's just bleeding," he whispered to himself.

You laid in bed and just stare at your ceiling. Holding your chest, how you wish you would always get lucky for having a warm heart instead of freezing one. A sigh escaped your lips before closing your eyes and dozing off to sleep.

You feel at ease when you didn't experience any signs of your illness for almost a week. Things were running smoothly and you're genuinely happy to yourself. Walking down the road, you stopped by a bakery and bought different types of pastries. You spared your day-off to pay a visit at the hospital because it's already been a month and every time you came here over and over again for the same reason, you became close with almost everyone working there.

You entered the building and you head straight to the reception area where you saw Dr. Lee signing some papers. The nurses noticed you and immediately gave you a smile and a wave that caught Dr. Yoon's attention. "Good morning. Good morning, Dr. Yoon!," you said with a grin while you placed the pastries on the reception table. "It's Jeonghan for you, you're here not as our patient anyway," said Dr. Yoon while his eyes formed a smile when he saw the foods you bought.

"Guys, get some! I dropped by the bakery before going here. It must've been a bit surprising seeing me visit with no intentions of getting medical help," you laughed.

The nurses and Dr. Yoon looked over you. "We're proud, don't worry," Dr. Yoon smiled. "How's your heart? Still freezing?"

Remembering how it didn't give any signs of possible freezing for almost a week, you placed your hand on your chest. "I actually didn't experience anything for a week now. I think it's back to normal... I really hope so," you answered.

Dr. Yoon nodded before stuffing his mouth with bagels. "Dr. Yoon, the patient on room 217 has woken up," you heard the nurse. Dr. Yoon immediately swallowed his food before turning over you.

"Ah, right! Your friend is here, the one who brought you here a month ago. He suffered from mild concussion, but he was treated already. Do you want to tag along? I was about to check up on him anyway."

Your eyes widened when he mentioned Wonwoo. You have already formulated questions in your head on the way to his room, but Dr. Yoon advised you to avoid asking him questions since he's still resting.

You saw a cold press head bandage around his head when you followed behind Dr. Yoon. He was already awake and you saw him looking straight at you, not even bothering to look at his doctor, and you didn't know why your heart has suddenly beat fast. You just stand at one corner of the room while Dr. Yoon checked his vitals. "You're all good now, Wonwoo. You just have to rest for another hour and you're good to go," said Dr. Yoon before going over you and pats your shoulder. "I'll leave you two now."

You suddenly panicked when you saw Dr. Yoon leave the room.

"You're just going to stand there?"

Your head immediately went to look over Wonwoo who was already raising his brow. "I, uhm, I visited them today and Jeonghan happened to tell me that you're here. That's why I'm now here," you didn't even know why you're suddenly explaining to him.

"So you were already on the first name basis with Dr. Yoon, huh."

You heard him muttered something. "What was that?," you asked while walking towards the stool to take a seat beside his bed.

"Nothing," he shrugged.

You stared at him for a moment before asking a question. You couldn't help it. "What happened to you?" Wonwoo looked at you before sighing.

"I slipped on the bathroom floor," he honestly said.

You wanted to laugh but it would just make you childish. You also felt worried for him because if you didn't, you wouldn't even bother going here on the first place.

"That sucks."

Wonwoo raised his eyebrow. "Yeah, it does." He tried to leave the bed and you quickly held his arm to stop him but he when you touched his left arm, he winced in pain. You were surprised so you immediately removed your hand and you saw a bandage covering his arm with red stains visibly seen. Blood. You tried to touch it again but Wonwoo stopped you.

"It's fine. I'm fine," you heard his heavy breaths in between.

You wanted to know the reason behind it but you remembered to not ask him too many questions. Maybe next time, you thought. You stayed silent for 5 minutes, waiting for him to even out his breath. You were so close to yawning but you heard him talk.

"Y/n, let's talk," is what he said while looking at the ceiling. Remembering that he was supposed to be resting, you said, "You need to rest though. I'll wait for you here, it's my free day anyway." Wonwoo looked at your eyes.

"No, it's okay. Talking to you helps me rest completely."

You felt your heart beats fast and your cheeks suddenly warms. You avoided his gaze at first before clearing a lump on your throat. "Uhm, okay. How are you... I mean, how are you last week? We haven't meet after you sent me home and it's been a week. Did you miss me?," you jokingly asked.

Wonwoo just stared at you and you suddenly felt anxious. Is there something on my face, you thought. "Don't ask me two questions at the same time," is what he said. You raised your eyebrows, "But you always ask me two questions at once," you silently said.

"I have been confused... until now," he said. You leaned over his bed railing and placed your hand under your chin for support. "Me too."

He is still looking at you then you suddenly saw him leaning forward. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips on your forehead. You slowly opened your eyes when you didn't feel his lips anymore and saw him looking on the other side, his cheeks slightly stained with pink.

"I missed you, I guess."

Thump.

You forgot to move for a moment. Wonwoo closed his eyes trying to avoid your stare.

"Remember when you told me something about your heart? I... I have something similar," you heard him say while his eyes are still closed. "It's my blood. It has been my concern for almost half a year now. My arm would suddenly bleed at every unexpected situations including earlier. When I woke up, my arm was bleeding so much I ran quickly towards my bathroom but I slipped. Luckily, I have my friends over for the night. That's why I happened to be lying here on this bed, instead of my cold tiles."

"I thought I already figured it out, but it turns out I'm nowhere near of solving its cause and origin. That's why I was so confused for the past week," you see him sighed before slowly opening his eyes.

You have no idea that he was also suffering from something. You even thought that maybe you're not the only one who's also suffering from something unexplainable. "I wonder if we would survive," you whispered.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

You also opened up how it's already been a week but your heart is still completely fine and warm. "I don't know why, but I just took it for granted. I'm also starting to think that maybe my time will already come that's why they're already making me live like a normal person," you said.

"We just need to hold on, I guess."

You inhaled a deep breath before slowly nodding your head. You didn't expect to fall asleep on your arms until you heard a knock on the door. You also saw Wonwoo who lazily opened his eyes while trying to remove his head bandage. He probably fell asleep too, you thought.

"Patient 217 or should I say Wonwoo, you can now go home. Your bills were already paid," said Dr. Yoon. "I see both of you had a very long chat, it's already 4 o'clock in the afternoon," Dr. Yoon smirked.

You tried to help him stand up but he declined. You just rolled your eyes. "He clearly needs help, but he rejected it. What a man!," you said to yourself.

When you reached the lobby, Wonwoo grabbed your arm.

"Give me your number, it's not like we're strangers to each other."

You scoffed but you still gave it anyway.

He offered to take you to a fast-food restaurant because he's starving and not because you haven't eaten yet. "I know a place, let's grab a food," you were about to decline but...

"It's not for you, I'm hungry." You have no other choice but to follow him.

Wonwoo went to the counter to buy food while you wait to your table. You let your eyes explore the place and you felt anxious seeing almost every customer are couples. You cleared your throat when you saw Wonwoo approaching your table with two burgers and drinks placed on the tray.

"You didn't have to. I wasn't hungry-," you lied.

"Who told you it's for you? These are mine."

Your eyes widened in embarrassment so you looked elsewhere.

"I'm just kidding. Eat up, I know you're also hungry."

You didn't listen to him at first but you intestines think otherwise. You chat for a moment until you both emptied out your drinks and it was then time to bid goodbye. His address is on the other direction so you both walked the opposite ways. You find it helpful how both of you are just blocks away and of course, the snow is falling lightly today that's why you didn't need to ride a cab home. You were almost near your home when you heard your phone ring.

Unknown:

'I'm one call away or should I say block away. Don't forget to wear warm clothes.'

'We'll meet again, beautiful.'

Your lips formed a smile and you could feel your cheeks burn before entering your house.

To Wonwoo:

'Looking forward to that. :)'

It was a busy day in his work. Wonwoo was occupied for a week due to some minor problems to their company and to his luck, his team was slightly involved. That's why he was only going home to sleep then leave for work on the next day.

To beautiful hamster: I want to quit, Y/n. :(

Even though his schedule was packed, he didn't forget to send you a message at least once a day. He has no other reasons, he just wants to talk to you even through chat.

From beautiful hamster: You're a loser then. Don't be such a baby!

Wonwoo laughed when he read your message. He placed his phone back on his desk before making another letter of pardon for his friend, which is also his workmate. Wonwoo looked over his schedule before typing and he momentarily stopped after seeing that he'll be having an open schedule for tomorrow. He'll finally have some free time, he thought.

After finishing his task, he went out to get himself a coffee from the cafe near their building. While waiting in line, he remembered the day he saw you here at this cafe and he absentmindedly touched his arm. To think that not even a single drop of blood was found on his arm, he felt relieved but also scared. He placed his order and again waited for his order to be served.

"Wonwoo."

He went back to the counter to get his order after hearing his name. He was about to get a coffee stirrer when he heard the cashier say something.

"A-are you perhaps the boyfriend of the lady who cheated with a m-married man...?"

Wonwoo's jaw clenched as he get the stirrer. He looked coldly at the cashier. "She did not cheat with anybody," he said before turning around.

Holding his coffee tightly, he looked back at the lady over the counter.

"She did not cheat. Stop spreading rumors. I am her boyfriend."

While going back to his office, Wonwoo didn't know why he said he was your boyfriend to the lady working at the cafe. "It was out of instinct, I guess," he shrugged.

Wonwoo just sat on his swivel chair, while looking at your contact in his phone. He clicked it and typed something.

To beautiful hamster: 'Do you want to have a dinner with me tomorrow?'

He deleted it and once again typed something.

To beautiful hamster: 'Are you free tomorrow night? Let's get dinner together.'

Deleted it.

Wonwoo sighed and leaned his back on his chair. He has a large window on his left that's why he has an overview of the outside world and he could see that the sun was almost setting. He touched his arm and murmured something.

'I think you're already fine, Y/n.'

"Ouch!"

You accidentally bit your tongue while watching your favorite Netflix series. "I hope it's not bleeding," you tried to feel if something tastes like metal, but there's nothing. "It's fine," you exhaled.

Your officemate recommended you something to watch and you gladly accepted it because you have nothing else to watch at the moment and by watching 3 episodes already, you could say that this is not a happy series. You almost cried watching the characters break up and separated ways, but you reminded yourself that it's just a video, nothing personal.

You heard your phone ring and when you opened it, you saw Wonwoo's message.

From Wonwoo: Jgh. What are you doing?

He always send you messages like this and it kind of feels like you were his attendance checker. A loud bang from the episode you are watching caught your attention and you forgot to reply to his message. It was such a heart breaking episode. You curled into a ball on your sofa, fighting the urge to cry. You actually felt like you were the lead character, experiencing a heartbreak from the one she truly loved. You didn't want to fight your tears anymore, so they quickly escaped your eyes and a sob followed.

Wonwoo was just lying on his bed, waiting for your reply. It has already been twenty minutes since he sent you one and normally, you would quickly reply back. That's something he noticed from you.

"Maybe she's already asleep...?"

He closed his eyes to rest for a moment when he felt something drip on his arm. He quickly opened his eyes and he was shocked when he saw how much blood was already dripping from his arm. Remembering how you haven't sent a reply yet, Wonwoo immediately grabbed a towel to wrap on his arm and run quickly to his door.

When he was outside he ran fast towards your address, not caring about the passersby’s reaction to his bleeding arm. It almost felt like ages before he arrived and he immediately opened your door and there he saw you standing surprised with red puffy eyes.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw Wonwoo standing in front of your door. Your puffy eyes grew even bigger when you noticed his bleeding arm. Blood was already dripping on the floor.

"Wonwoo... Your arm--"

Wonwoo strode over you and wrapped his right arm around your body to hug you tight.

You could hear his heavy breaths. Did he run all the way here?, you thought. You didn't know why he's here. Is he alright. What happened to his arm?

You tried to remove his right arm on you to check up on him. When you did, you saw him looking directly on your eyes. 'His stare could kill,' you said to yourself. You panicked again when you saw that his bleeding wouldn't stop. "Wonwoo, your arm. It's bleeding!," you silently shouted. Wonwoo looked on his arm too and harshly tied a towel to slowly stop the bleeding. You winced when you saw how tight it was.

"Are you alright?," he asked while staring at your puffy eyes.

"I think we need to visit the hospita--"

"Answer me," your body froze when you heard how intimidating he sound.

Wonwoo sighed, "You didn't answer my message. I thought something happened to you. Y/n, I was so worried!"

You felt small. He raised his voice on you, but it was because he was worried.

Should I be scared or feel touched?

"I'm fine, Wonwoo. I was watching... Something sad, that's why... I think I cried," you avoided to look on him because you felt embarrassed crying over a damn drama.

"Shouldn't you be worried about that, right now? If you don't, I am... worried about your arm," you added.

Wonwoo caressed your cheek with his right hand. "I'm glad you're fine. I'm sorry I raised my voice, I promise I would never do it again." You felt your heart beats fast again. What is this feeling, there's no way...

"Let me just get my med kit, let's clean your arm," you said to atleast be far away for him just for a minute because if you don't, your heart might explode and you suddenly vomit butterflies.

You guided him to your sofa and you sat in front of him. You carefully wiped the remaining blood on his arm and he just stared at you while doing that. "I thought mine was already worse, but yours are even more dangerous. You know you'll probably lose so much blood and that's not good," you sighed. "I hope we find our cure, so we won't suffer anymore."

"But you're the cause and cure," Wonwoo said to himself.

A week before this day, Wonwoo was so busy with work and not a single day he saw blood coming out of his arm. He genuinely liked it and hoped it won't ever bleed again. And he remembered how you said your heart didn't feel like freezing for a week as well. Things started to connect themselves in front of Wonwoo. You were happy.

His bleeding and your heart were connected to your emotions. You were happy, that's why your heart was normal. That's why he wasn't bleeding. He made all efforts on trying to make you smile or feel happy for the days he couldn't visit you through messages. He sent you jokes and that, he has never done before.

If he was right, you could finally live a life the way you wanted it to be and he could finally feel great after all the situations that have happened right before his own eyes.

He didn't believe it at first but something's wrong with him. He's not in his usual self. He's like a fool for love. "Am I inlove?," he asked himself.

You're almost done patching up his arm when you heard him clear his throat.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

You looked up to meet his eyes. There they go again, flying in my stomach. "Uhm... I have time at noon," you shyly said. You saw him hide his smile and slowly nodded at you.

Is he asking me out...?

You're done with his arm and you tried to offer him coffee or something to drink but he refused. He also said he was going now that's why you accompanied him to your door.

"Uh... I'll text you the address. See you tomorrow, Y/n," Wonwoo said while scratching his neck. You nodded and replied a silent 'okay.'

As if something magical passed by in front of you, Wonwoo slowly leaned in.

Is he going to k-kiss me...??

You saw him position his head and your lips are almost an inch away from touching each other.

But he stopped halfway. He quickly looked the other way and muttered something.

"I...uh... I'll go now. Bye!"

Your cheeks flushed red and it was a good thing he was already walking away. "What's with him? What's with me? Why did I feel annoyed that he didn't continue---", you mentally cursed yourself before going back in.

You couldn't sleep. You were just thinking about what to wear for your lunch with Wonwoo.

And you deeply regret not sleeping because your eye bags are evident below your eyes. You shrugged all the thoughts away as you went in your bathroom to take a bath. You just wear casual clothes since it'll be just a friendly date and you still have to go to work in the morning.

Wonwoo is also restless. He already reserved a table for two at the formal restaurant just around the corner. He even think of buying you flowers but it's a bit cheesy for him. He texted you the address earlier at six in the morning. He's not excited at all.

You just sat on your chair and waited for the hours to pass by quickly so that it's already noon break. You looked at the mirror and checked if you're still looking fine and you released a sigh of relief when you saw that you still looked... good, even though you look absolutely great.

"Guys, it's lunch time! Wonwoo, you coming with us? We're trying out the newly opened samgyup resto bar."

Wonwoo shook his head. "I have somewhere else to go, maybe next time."

He quickly get his things and directly went to the restaurant he reserved two seats from. When he arrived, he sat down your table and thanked himself for reserving earlier because it was already packed up with customers.

"Now all I have to do is wait," Wonwoo smiled.

You left your office and started walking towards the direction of the restaurant Wonwoo said. While walking, a thought suddenly flashed in your mind.

What if this is a date, you would just make things harder for him because you're not normal. You would eventually leave him behind.

Considering your thought, you slowed down your walk and started thinking more about the situation.

"Will I just make it hard for him? He's already suffering from something."

You thought that it might be better if he wouldn't end up with you.

You were happy now. You were happy that you met Wonwoo. You had someone to lean on and you finally felt what it feels like to have a friend. You don't have anything to do now, your family is already up there.

Should I follow them?

You squinted your eyes and stopped walking because you were dazzled by the sun. As if on cue, you felt something sharp punctured in your abdomen and a man muttered a curse before running away quickly.

You coughed. Passersby started to gather around you, some are panicking and some immediately called for help. You touched it and slowly looked on it. There you saw a blade, stabbed deeply on your side. Your hands and lips were trembling and your breathing suddenly constrict.

Someone call an ambulance!

Oh my, help!

You then collapsed on the floor and people around you were startled. Your eyes suddenly felt heavy and the last thing you saw was a man caressing your cheeks and constantly saying something.

It feels weird. I didn't feel sad at all. I feel...

Happy.

Wonwoo was already feeling anxious while he still waits for you. He looked at his watch and his eyes widened when he saw that it's already one o'clock in the afternoon. Did she lie to me?, he thought. He was also constantly looking on his arm for any signs of bleeding because if there is, that means you're in trouble. He definitely hoped that there's nothing wrong and that you're absolutely fine.

He waited for your message too but his phone wasn't even ringing.

He felt restless so he stood up and left the restaurant. While he was walking, he saw a large crowd on the way.

"What's the commotion about?"

He then heard a woman shouted for help.

"Someone!! Help her!! She's stabbed!"

He walked over to look and maybe do something to help but his body suddenly froze. He can't move. His heart fell down. His jaw and fists clenched. His breathing rapidly increased as he approached your almost lifeless body on the ground.

"Y/n! Hey! Y/n!!!" he caressed your cheeks, "Stay with me, hey... Don't fucking close your eyes! Y/n, look at me. Y/n!!!," he shouted when he saw you closing your eyes.

"Someone call a fucking ambulance! Why are you just fucking looking?!"

Wonwoo looked over your punctured wound. "Shit! Y/n, stay with me."

"I need you!"

The ambulance came and you were immediately brought to the hospital in the emergency room. They didn't let Wonwoo in so he was left at the lobby waiting. He pulled his hair out of anger. His white dress shirt was now stained with red liquid--your blood. He squatted near the emergency door and put his head on his knees. A nurse approached him and informed him that they will perform emergency surgery on you since the blade had damaged several parts of your tissues so it needs to be sutured back and its little particles also penetrated it and they should be removed immediately. He just looked up to the nurse and couldn't even bother saying anything.

"Why didn't it bleed? I would've come sooner."

Wonwoo started blaming himself but it would only be useless right now since it already happened. A male nurse also approached him and told him that the cops are waiting for him at the lobby. He immediately stood up and strode his way at the lobby.

"Are you related to Miss Y/l/n?," a cop asked.

"Y-yeah."

"The suspect has already been arrested and is on the interrogation room at our headquarters right now. He is charged of GBH. We're deeply sorry for what happened to her."

Wonwoo's jaw and fists clenched out of anger. "Charge of bodily harm? That means 5 years in prison?," Wonwoo scoffed. "You know better than this, officer."

The cops slightly bowed to him before leaving.

He was about to go back to hallway of the emergency room when he saw Jeonghan who is tightly holding someone, who seems like another doctor, on his collar. He slowly walked towards them and he was shocked. Jeonghan punched the other doctor causing him to fall on the ground.

"You almost killed her, you motherfucker! How could you be so dumb and act on your own?! I'm the senior here!"

Jeonghan noticed Wonwoo so he calmed himself before facing him. "Wonwoo--"

Wonwoo's ears are already turning red--he was fuming. "What the fuck happened in there?"

"Wonwoo, calm down--"

He grabbed Dr. Yoon's collar. "Don't tell me what to do. What happened in there, Jeonghan?"

Jeonghan pushed Wonwoo's hands away from him and he readjusted his collar. "The junior messed it up," he sighed. "We were already going smoothly as planned until he fucked it up. This shit made her bleeding worse when he pulled the blade out and that shouldn't have happened if he listened to us. She almost lost so much blood..."

"Take mine. Does she need blood? Take mine," Wonwoo sobbed. "Take my fucking blood. I-" Wonwoo let his body fall on the ground as he cried.

Jeonghan sat in front of him and helped him calm down. "She'll be fine. She's fine. Y/n's the strongest person I know."

Jeonghan stayed by Wonwoo's side until he's calmed down but the sudden opening of the emergency door startled the both of them.

"Doctor Park has requested you to join in again. Y/n has ventricular fibrillation and they'll immediately perform cardioversion and cpr in between. It hasn't been too fatal to implant ICD," a nurse said. Jeonghan immediately went to wear his surgical gown and wash his hands and arms with PVP-I before going back to the ER.

Wonwoo didn't know what to do. He just hoped for the best because at the end of the day, he knows you'll still open those precious green eyes of yours.

Wonwoo looked at the opening door and there he saw you, lying on the bed with IV fluids attached on your hand. He tried to reach you but Jeonghan caught his hands and made him sit down. He gave Wonwoo a bread before sitting next to him. "She's under influence of anesthesia. She'll probably wake up for about an hour so I suggest you to take a rest first. Go out and inhale fresh air, you need it." Jeonghan said before standing up and going to his office.

Wonwoo looked at his watch.

6 o'clock in the evening.

"She struggled that long," he sighed before going out to get some fresh air.

Wonwoo went to the park where he first had an interaction with you. It has already been 5 weeks, yet he still wasn't able to say what he wanted to say to you a few weeks ago. I'm a sucker, he thought. He sat down by a bench near the tallest tree at the park. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Mister..." A kid stood in front of Wonwoo and was extending his small arm, holding a single alstroemeria. Wonwoo tilted his head to the side and asked, "Is this for me?"

The kid shook his head but he still urged him to get it and immediately ran away skipping after Wonwoo get the flower on his hand. "Huh, it's not even the season of flowers," he asked. Wonwoo stared at the flower before looking at his watch. It was already quarter to seven so he decided to head back and visit you on your room.

When he entered the room, your eyes were still closed. You looked calm and heavenly, he thought. He sat down beside your bed and placed the flower on the table. He sighed before holding your left hand. He just pressed it on his cheeks, not saying anything, just feeling your warmth. "You owe me another one. I don't cry in front of others but you made me do it," he silently laughed at himself. He looked at the flower, "A kid gave me a flower. I'm not sure what kind of flower it is though and it's not even the time for flowers to bloom."

He stared at your face for a moment before planting a kiss on your forehead. He heard a knock on the door. "Wear this. Blood's still on your shirt," Jeonghan said.

"You finally found your cure, didn't you? Confusion's finally over. I'm happy for you, man."

Wonwoo looked at Jeonghan before giving him a small smile. "I did. But I don't think I am her cure. I'll let her go to her cure because that's how much I--," Wonwoo stopped talking when he heard you groan. Jeonghan crosses his arms together before flashing a smirk.

"Good evening, princess. How are you?," asked Jeonghan.

You slowly opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was Wonwoo's worried look. "I feel crap. I think I saw heaven for a bit," you said and clearly Wonwoo wasn't happy about that. "They pushed me back though. Said it wasn't my time yet," you said while Jeonghan's checking your vitals.

"Estimated 3 days before you could finally go home. For now, rest completely so that, he winked at Wonwoo's direction, could finally calm his nerves down," Jeonghan said before leaving the room.

You sighed.

"Hey, I'm sorry for making you worried."

Wonwoo gave you the cold stare. "Don't say sorry, it's not your fault. Although, you were kind of dumb but still not your fault." You placed your hand on his cheek before saying something.

"I actually thought I would never see you again and I was... slightly happy about that," you said that made Wonwoo confused.

"I didn't want to add up to your life's concerns. You're already dealing with something and you still have a dream to achieve while I don't. I don't have any reasons left to regret dying earlier, you know," you shrugged. "Ouch!," Wonwoo flicked your forehead. "What was that for?"

"You seriously won't regret leaving me behind? After all the things I did for you?"

You laughed at his expression. "I was kidding. You're no fun at all! I still want to meet the person that will completely heal my heart, you know. Wonder what it feels like to be embraced by him."

"It will probably feel cold at all, not warm," he murmured.

"I heard you." Wonwoo looked at you. "I intentionally murmured it loudly."

You were about to tease him a bit more when he smashed a flower on your forehead. "You really liked violence, huh!" You hold the stem of the flower and you immediately recognized its kind. You dramatically looked over Wonwoo and he returned a questioning look. "What?"

You pouted and faked a sob. "I--" Wonwoo worriedly look at you, "Hey, what's wrong? First time receiving a flower?"

"You're friend-zoning me," you sob. "All this time, I thought you that you liked me too. I was a fool," you invested in some of your acting skills. Wonwoo gaped at what he heard. "What did you say?"

"What did I say? I didn't say anything. Omg, I love this flower. Thank you, friend." you said emphasizing the word friend. Wonwoo is clearly not enjoying this so he threatened you by leaning in over you. "I heard it right. You said you like me. Now, stop this little game of yours or else," he said.

You weren't afraid of this threat so you leaned in as well. "Or else what?" Your eyes widened when he quickly pecked your lips.

Thump.

"Here's your food-- I guess I'll come back later," Jeonghan said before closing the door.

Wonwoo smirked at you. "You asked for it."

You dramatically touched your lips as you looked away from him. "I can't believe this is happening." You quickly looked back at him. "Tell me I'm not dreaming," you light slapped his cheek. "You're really here. You really pecked my lips. Woah..."

Wonwoo laughed at you. "Yes, this is real. Go back to sleep and take a rest so that I could finally take you for lunch, dinner or even breakfast when you're completely healed," he ruffled your hair.

"Good night, Wonwoo. Sweet dreams," you smiled at him before closing your eyes. Wonwoo turned off the lights of your room and left to take a rest too.

'I am totally a fool for love,' he thought.

The day finally came where Wonwoo could finally take you to the restaurant for a date and you swear, this is the only date both of you had after almost 2 months of being discharged at the hospital. He made it clear, though. 'From now on, you're my girlfriend and I am yours.' That was 2 months ago after he fetched you at the hospital. He stayed by your side even if you don't need help with cleaning your stitches. He almost lived at your house too but you didn't care because you love him.

He also told you that the reason of his bleeding is you. Of course you felt bad but he told you, 'you don't have to because I already have the cure.' You remembered you asked what and he answered, "It's not what, it's who and it's you, my love." Butterflies were dancing in your stomach back then. Although every day with him always made you feel butterflies at your stomach, you still won't get used to it.

"Y/n, I told you every thing you wear is perfect. You look beautiful on whatever you wear," Wonwoo said trying to convince you to finally settle for something to wear because he's already hungry.

"Alright, alright. How do I look?"

Wonwoo licked his lips, "Perfect."

You rolled your eyes before giving him a peck. "Let's go, you must be starving."

When you arrived, you didn't know Wonwoo would rent the whole restaurant just for the both of you. "Wonwoo... this is too much. I--"

Wonwoo placed his hands on your waist, "Did you not like it, hmm?"

You held his hands and placed it on top of your chest while you placed your head on his chest. Wonwoo just looked at you, eyes beaming with joy.

"I love it."

"Thank you for being my cure, Wonwoo," you looked up to him, tears trying to escape your eyes. He held the back of your head and leaned in for a passionate kiss.

"I love you," you said in between his kisses.

Wonwoo placed his forehead on yours.

"I will love you with all my heart, with all my blood. Always."

Warming you up

by wonwhomps

A/n: How are you? How am I? First of all, I thank you, yes you! For reading my works. I wouldn't be motivated to write if it wasn't for you. I thank myself as well, for always making plots that eventually urged me to spare half of my time writing every day. It's hard to write when school is on going but I can manage. Writing is my escape, I guess. Sorry for the grammatical errors found in the story, I'll proof-read my stories when I have an open schedule. I hope you were somehow moved by this story. It's my first ever 10k words story tbh. I'll end my note by shamelessly promoting my other fanfictions found here. Also, I'll post some of my works at Wattpad and it would be truly helpful if you come visit it there. Thank you! xx

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Masterlist

Medical terms used above:

Disclaimer: This information is not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice, emergency treatment or formal first-aid training. Don't use this information to diagnose or develop a treatment plan for a health problem or disease without consulting a qualified health care provider. If you're in a life-threatening or emergency medical situation, seek medical assistance immediately.

▸Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator (ICD) - is a device placed under your skin. It also contains a computer that tracks your heart rate and rhythm. If your heart beats way too fast or is very out of rhythm, the ICD sends out a shock to get it back into rhythm ▸Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR) - is an emergency procedure that combines chest compressions often with artificial ventilation in an effort to manually preserve intact brain function until further measures are taken to restore spontaneous blood circulation and breathing in a person who is in cardiac arrest.

▸Povidone-iodine (PVP-I) - also known as iodopovidone, is an antiseptic used for skin disinfection before and after surgery. It may be used both to disinfect the hands of healthcare providers and the skin of the person they are caring for. It may also be used for minor wounds.

▸Hypothermia - is a medical emergency that occurs when your body loses heat faster than it can produce heat, causing a dangerously low body temperature.

▸Trypanophobia - is an extreme fear of medical procedures involving injections or hypodermic needles.

Others:

▸Grievous Bodily Harm (GDR) - is a term used in English criminal law to describe the severest forms of assault. It refers to two offences that are respectively created by sections 18 and 20 of the Offences against the Person Act 1861.

▸Alstroemeria - is the flower most representative of friendship, so you will find it in many friendship bouquets. This flower also symbolizes good fortune and prosperity, so it offers double meaning.

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