#but I’ll write it if I ever find freetime

[lunarrosette]

I have learned (I already knew) that domestic shit makes me so emotional. So I humbly ask nark fanfic writers…. Domestic post canon…… OR I’ll probably just do it myself

[mocnlighted]

PSA: It’s nearly September which means pretty soon I’ll be back in classes and my time on here is gradually going to become limited as I won't have as much freetime to

Discord: I will be archiving all servers that have been inactive for 2+ months. If we share a server that falls into this category, this doesn’t mean that we can’t ever write together again, there’s no hard feelings at all - I would just much rather focus on my more active servers. I would also be open to bringing our threads to tumblr, if that’s something you would want too! Tumblr: I won’t be dropping any threads and I’m currently working on my drafts to get through all owed replies to existing threads and starters that i've been tagged in. Please let me know if you want to drop a thread and/or start a new one, even if it's with different muses entirely. The queue on my writing blog is currently set to post 3 replies a day but if you would like our thread posted sooner then please do let me know and, if it’s queued, I’ll post it. I do use the RPThreadTracker and you can find all my owed replies here. If you don't see our thread there, it's because I haven't replied to it yet and the tracking system only works once I reply to it so it will be updated when my reply has been posted.

Going forward, I will be selective when accepting new partners or starting new threads, especially since I'm quite content with the people I'm writing with atm (both current and inactive), but if we are mutuals please don't feel hesitant to reach out! I have updated my rules (the goal was to make it shorter/easier to read but ofc I ended doing with the opposite dfgdkf) just so that people have a better understanding of what to expect when writing with me.

As a courtesty to the people that I'm writing with, I will always post updates if there's any major change to my activity and reach out to my partners if I need to drop any of our threads. It is a shitty feeling to be ghosted or left hanging and the last thing I'd want to do is inflict that on to anyone so whether it's a reply, tagging our pairings in musings, badgering you with headcanons or showing you the 100th pinterest board i've made - you will know i'm still around���

[funtimebunnyblog]

Pillar men with black s/o with natural hair?

I'm so sorry this took a little while to get done, my dear Anon 😅 but here it is!

I'll admit, I had to take some time to do a little bit of research to help me write this. My IRL hair is a strange combination of Kars' and Funny Valentine's (really it depends on the day 😓) so I'm not the most knowledgeable on this subject and I wanted to make sure this felt right for all you folks out there with natural hair! 😇🥰❤ Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen with a black s/o with natural hair

(Under the cut for length...)

Kars:

• As a man who takes extra precautions and care for the mane of his own, he's probably one of the best people to help you with your own hair.

• Whatever you need; creams, moisturizers, relaxers, oils, conditioners, you name it and he'll buy you top of the line products!

• He wants nothing but the best for you, his mate, and your hair.

• Helping you with styling is perhaps his favourite thing to do with you during his freetime.

• He could talk for hours about different styles with you and maybe even help you with trying them out.

• He may not be the most gentle person when helping you groom or style but he really tries to be. If you happen to squirm and whimper because he's pulling too hard PLEASE tell him!

• Otherwise he'll be upset with you and might even have to undo all of his work even if he just spent the last few hours giving you braids.

• He knows that pain equals damage and that's the LAST thing he wants to happen to you or your beautiful hair.

• If you happen to be having a day where your hair is being stubborn or maybe if you need to get around to having it re-styled and it looks awry, he's more than happy to teach you how to wrap it up like he does.

Esidisi:

• Esidisi has a very special care routine for his own floof of hair so needless to say, he's a good person to go to for help if you need it.

• What he really likes is exchanging tips with you about care and useful products, you both just seem to learn more and more from one another as you go along!

• He'll teach you millennium old remedies and tricks for care and washing and you can teach him any new and improved techniques and introduce him to some good products.

• He's definitely your go to man if you are in need of a hot oil treatment for your locks; he can heat it up with his hands in seconds!

• When you try out different styles with your hair, you might just inspire him to shake things up a little and get his own hair done differently.

• He has been rocking the floof for literal millennium after all, maybe it a little change was overdue...

• He'll even take your advice and let you pick a certain style for him and if you want, he's even down to match with you!

Wamuu:

• Wamuu's knowledge on the amount of care and time that needs to be put into your hair is admittedly very minimal.

• All he does is wash and comb his. For the longest time he thought that was all there was to it for everyone until you told him otherwise.

• Undoubtedly, he's absolutely in awe of how lovely and thick your hair is however.

• He's more than willing to learn the ins and outs of it all for your sake.

• Don't be surprised if you happen to find him sitting up at the computer late at night Googling tips and watching tutorials online.

• When caught, Wamuu will sheepishly admit that he wanted to surprise you by taking the time to learn to care for and style hair properly so he can help you more.

• When actually helping you hands on he's surprisingly gentle for his size and strength.

• He handles you like you're made of glass and you'll find he rarely ever pulls or inflicts pain.

Santana:

• Santana just can't seem to keep his hands off your hair.

• You'll have to forgive him because he could spend seeming hours just running his fingers through it (especially after you've just washed it), in utter adoration and awe.

• This could result in you being late for work a lot if you're not careful.

• He will absolutely stop though if you tell him to! If you don't like your hair being handled he'll show some restraint and settle for simply admiring it from afar until you tell him otherwise.

• All that being said, he's an excellent person to assist you in maintenance for your hair.

• He'll question you about all the products you put in your hair, what it does and why you need it. He wants to know everything!

• All his learning is hands on with you. Don't be surprised if very soon after you teach him all this stuff he starts insisting you sit in his lap and have him groom and moisturize it for you.

• That also gives him an excuse to touch and play with your locks.

• Santana does his very best to be gentle, he's actually very good at it, but he'll notice at even the slightest movement made if he's pulled too hard; to which then he'll stop and quietly apologize.

• He's not a man to care much for his own hair (Santana doesn't even own a comb) but he treats yours like royalty.

• He loves it when you try out new styles. Whether it's braids, a weave, cornrows or even if you want to just keep it natural, he loves it all the same!

[shewillreadyou]

Haven’t met you yet

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: NS*FW (+18) don’t read this fic if you’re a minor; period.

Word Count: 1887

Prompts: @wackydrabbles prompt #88 “I meant every word.” will appear in BOLD

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: Haven’t met you yet -Michael Buble

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy. 

A replay of the Royal wedding of King Liam and Queen Carsyn of Cordonia was playing in the background as she packed her clothes in the small carryon. She giggled when they kissed. Although it was rumored that the king was into black women, something seemed off when he kissed his bride. She had watched this wedding a half dozen times and still couldn’t really put her finger on it. She was headed to New York to stand up in the wedding of one of her sorority sisters. After landing her dream job in Dallas, Riley couldn’t wait to meet her sorors in New York to celebrate. After all, Norah was about to marry the man of her dreams and Riley was truly happy for them. 

There was currently no man in Riley’s life and no prospects. Maybe she’d meet someone in Dallas or maybe she was destined for the life of a career woman. Maybe there would be no happily ever after for her. She turned out the lights in her new downtown Dallas apartment, and grabbed her carry on dragging it to the door as she headed to the airport. 

She opened the door to see her latest amazon purchase on the door mat. She took a moment to retreat inside to open the box. She was hoping it was delivered before she had to head out. Her pink Bedroom Kandi toy was still packed away lost in the sea of boxes crammed into her guestroom. She knew that she would not survive this long weekend in NYC without some form of sexual entertainment. She was disappointed when she opened the box to find her new toy was smaller than the picture made it look. Her flight left in 2 hours and her uber was downstairs so she shoved the disappointing toy in the side of her bag and headed down.  

After the uneventful three hour flight, she finally landed at JFK. Mack was supposed to pick her up from the airport. She stood to the side as people herded to baggage claim to send a quick text. A group of men came from the opposite direction. One was this tall, very attractive Asian guy who looked alot like King Liam. He was with a few other men but there was one in particular who caught her eye. He was beautiful, he had dark hair and the most beautiful blue-grey eyes. The guy who bore resemblance to King Liam smiled and winked at her, while his brooding friend who definitely glanced at her, kept moving. She was snatched from her day dream when Mack texted to say she was outside. 

They checked into the Crown Plaza in Manhattan, freshened up and changed into their little black dresses before meeting the girls at a local rooftop lounge for appetizers and drinks before the bachelorette party. 

The sounds of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t start now” played in the background and encouraged a slightly inebriated Lauren to shake her body on the empty dance floor. Still licking the wounds behind a very fresh break up she intended to use this weekend to drink her troubles away and vowed to nail a stranger. 

The hostess seated a group of gentlemen at the table directly behind the ladies giving Riley, who never sat with her back to the door the best look at the group. It was them. The men from the airport. When they were settled, Riley’s eyes met with the Asian guy’s who was smiling and licking his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned to Kourtney. 

“So, how is Gabrielle, is she two now?” 

“Yes, she’s great. Busy, but great. That was real smooth. You have an admirer.”

“Ugh, I saw those guys in the airport when I landed. He smiled at me then too.”

“But now there are two of them looking at you like you’re a steak.”

Riley coyly glanced at the group again, this time noticing the dark haired man looking. She blushed and turned back to Kourtney right as the server approached with a whiskey sour, complete with a phone number written on the cocktail napkin. 

“How did he know what you drink?”

“Girl, I have no idea. Should I drink this?”

“Sure, they wouldn’t have served it if it had been tampered with. But the real question is are you going to call him?” 

“Me? Noooo. What would I say?” 

“What do you have to lose?”

“Wait, you have never dated a white guy before have you?” 

“Well, no. Not that they aren’t attractive. I just never had one interested. Not all of us find our Prince Harry.” 

“You do now. Besides, Chris is no Prince Harry, but he does treat me like a queen. I have always wondered if there are people who would rather be alone than to date outside of their race. Chris is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I definitely would date outside of my race if it were the right person. He is gorgeous, I’m still not calling this guy. He’s going to think i’m desperate.”

“You are!”

“I am not!”

“When was the last time you got laid? Mack told me about your toy.”

“Remind me to kill her later. It’s been 8 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. But who’s counting?”

“Exactly,” Kourtney cackled, drawing the attention of the men at the next table. 

Maroon 5’s, “Moves like Jagger” started to play as they continued to chat.

“May I have this dance?”

Riley was disappointed to find the King Liam look alike.

“Thanks, but my feet are killing me.”

“That’s too bad,” he said as he flashed her a sexy smile.

Just then she glanced across the rooftop to see him whisper something to his brooding friend. In an instant the guy with the beautiful eyes headed over and slipped the DJ a tip and whispered something in his ear before heading Riley’s way. 

“Kourt, shit! He’s coming over here what do I say?”

“Don’t. Let him do the talking.”

 He held out his hand and smiled at her and she was sure her panties were ruined.

“Hey, did I get your drink right?” he asked placing her hand in his.

“Actually, yeah you did. Impressive.”

Just then the DJ changed the song to Silk Sonic’s, “Leave the door open.”

The stranger pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s dance.”

His scent was intoxicating, his arms where strong and she could get lost in his eyes. He held her with a familiarity that made her feel at home in his arms.

“So are you going to tell me your name?”

“Drake. And you are?”

“Riley.” 

“We don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just dance. Just use my number when you’re ready.”  

“Their bodies swayed slowly to the song before her friends pulled her away to the next leg of their night.”

Two weeks later

After a very long weekend in New York, Riley was back in Dallas. She had been there for almost a month and hadn’t met anyone at all. Well, there was Will from work. But she doesn’t date co-workers and she is pretty sure he is gay. In her freetime she goes to the gym, and eats at new restaurants  a few times a week, which leads her back to the gym. After a particularly long work day, circuit training and an hour on the treadmill Riley came home and poured herself a very large glass of wine. She filled the tub, lit some jar candles and grabbed her toy and the romance novel that she was currently reading.

She was soaking in bubbles up to her neck when her phone rang, it was Kourtney. Out of all her friends she probably checked on Riley the most. She dried her hands and pressed the speakerphone button.

Hey Kourt,

Hey Ri, what’s new?

Not a thing, work, the gym, dinner, wine repeat.

That’s sad. No human interaction?

Not really. I’ve hung out with Mack and Ben twice but I always feel like a third wheel. 

Remember when I told you to call the guy from the rooftop?

Yeah. 

I meant every word.

I will think about it. I gotta go. Early morning. Love you.

Whatever, I know when I hit a nerve. I love you too.

Three days later

Riley was as lonely in Dallas as they come. She thought about online dating but wanted something more organic. Kourtney’s words lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe she was right. Riley had nothing to lose by reaching out to the handsome stranger who sent her the drink in NYC. She decided to take the plunge.

The next morning Riley sat on her balcony reading the paper and sipping amaretto flavored coffee when her phone rang.

Hey Mack! 

Hey, I am running into church and I know it’s short notice but Ben is out of town next weekend and my college roommate is getting married down in Waxahachie. Please tell me you don’t have plans and you’ll be my plus one.

I’ll have to check my planner. She laughed.

Who am I kidding? I don’t have plans. Free booze, food, and maybe a groomsmen to have a fling with. Count me in…

Yay! She squealed. I will pick you up Saturday morning and we can ride down to the ranch together.

Saturday

The doorbell rings and Riley grabs her clutch and the wedding card she got for the newlyweds before heading down to meet Mack. They catch up while they take the 30 minute drive out to the Walker Ranch where the ceremony is to be held. Mack talked about feeling like an after thought when it came to her boyfriend. Riley mentioned the need for human interaction, more specifically from a man and how the one man she met in New York lives in Europe. When they arrive Riley takes in the vast land and the beautiful event space. 

“Savannah’s family owns this ranch? Wow, it’s massive.”

“Yeah, I know at one time they were really struggling to keep things afloat. But it definitely looks like they are doing well for themselves now.”

“Right? I love when family businesses do well. It’s really a gorgeous day for an outside wedding. But we should probably take our seats. The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Mack led Riley to a couple seats on the bride's side. Before long a very serious looking groom and an officiant that Riley could only describe as a King Liam look-a-like stood under a wedding trellis decorated with blush colored blooms. The violinist started to play a beautiful arrangement as the attendants began to descend the aisle. 

“All rise and receive the bride.”

They guess all stood and turned to receive Savannah. She was a stunning bride. Then Riley laid eyes on those hypnotic blue-grey eyes. She instantly broke out into a sweat. She couldn’t ever mistake those eyes for someone else’s. He was as beautiful as the first tine she saw him. She swallowed hard and her mouth went dry. Her heart seemed to be pounding out of her chest, she was shaking when she gave Mack’s hand a firm squeeze. 

“What’s wrong Ri?”

Before she could answer, his eyes met hers, he bit his lip and her knees buckled. 

“Um Ri?”

“It’s Drake from the rooftop in New York..”

@txemrn​ @pixie88​ @secretaryunpaid​@khoicesbyk​ @blackkingliamstan​ @mom2000aggie​ @shannonwrote​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @fanjessfic​ @rideordiechronicles​ @lucy-268​ @dcbbw​ @darley1101​ @maurine07​ @burnsoslow​ @sfb123​ @bbrandy2002​ @kingliam2019​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @lem-20​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​ @wackydrabbles​​

TRR: @twinkleallnight​  @bebepac​ @mainstreetreader​ @romereadingshop​ @romewritingshop​ @lem-20​ @texaskitten30​

[mxchowind]

Blanket fort

Hello! My name is Micha and I write fanfics for a wide array of fandoms! My first blog was for the lord of the rings- lmao. Anyways, as for genshin- i love venti and diluc so much so i decided to start writing! Here’s a fic to start us off!

As this is my first post- please keep in mind i am only a novice at writing, so constructive feedback or ideas, requests and more are highly welcomed! Thank you for visiting again, and here’s the fic as promised!

Venti x Lumine

Warnings: none? fluff

Freetime seems to corrupt both Lumine and the God of freedom himself after all the intricate hard work of putting Dvalin at ease. The air is tint with the slightest scent of cecilia as the breeze gently lurch forward, gracefully planting peace within hearts that drowned among fury. His numerous attempts to ask her on a night’s journey only results in more scolding from the winery owner- not to mention the dangers at night. Though Diluc was not one to control the freedom of Barbatos himself. Fun it is, to be indulged in the lenient wind fully, with the best bard in the entire world next to her. 

His poems and songs echo through the valley, blades of grass brushing past her cheeks, responding ever so merrily to his words and tranquillity. Without doubt, Venti himself is much obliged to be with her. How he adores moments when it is just the two of them- alone, having heart-to-heart conversations about the littlest thing. The blond didn’t mind, in fact, it only brings immense peace to her heart knowing he is next to her, never letting go. 

So when this cheeky, little pest of a God comes up with a wonderful idea-

He has a plan. 

Long did he yearn for your warmth next to his- and to make this come alive, yet not awkward, Venti decides to take the safer path, who knows what lies ahead? Certainly not her. 

Night ambience swallows Mondstadt as a whole. Birds hurrying home and tonight he could not roam, for time is spent better next to the one and only Honorary knight of Favonius. The bard has been collecting- pillows, it seems, and extra blankets too. When the host of the inn asks, he simply dismisses that question with a smile- complaining it is too cold at night. His blathering skills only seem to strengthen, wrapping everyone around his finger at the very mention. 

On the contrary, Lumine does not have the slightest idea of what is going on. As the day ends, she ascends the stairs, about to return to her room, calling it a night. That, however, comes to a halt as soon as the burnette’s voice reaches her ears. Without hesitation, her hand on the door, ready to come. Should she expect such a scene when door opens-

The Wind Archon himself, laying on a pile of pillows, and blankets shortly after her gaze follows. His posture was irresistibly mischievous and all Lumine could do was to stand and chuckle at this sight. As Venti raises a hand slowly, her stare increases with interest, looking forward for what is to be said. 

‘‘Well, my dear Lumine. Why, won’t you come into this pillow fort with me tonight? I’ll be your escort, and sure it is to delight?’’ 

Oh Archons- his voice rings with such perversity that she falls on her knees, laughing. Unable to get out of this atmosphere, he rolls next to her pleasantly, attacking her with the utmost strategy- tickling. Her breath short, Lumine attacks back by slamming a pillow on the boy’s head, earning a ‘‘That hurts not!’’ jokingly. Both of them envelope in such a merry time night is forgotten and seen as day. 

Venti has never felt so content before that he wants to cherish the moment more than ever. Whenever he finds himself next to her laughter is always wrecking the both of them, unable to even breathe properly. As for Lumine, ever since the parting of her and Aether, she thought it was impossible to share a moment where joy fills the air ever again- but the Bard proved her wrong; his sweet words are laced with honey, and his songs are the ones never to bore. Without hesitation she throws herself onto the God, which he catches her steadily with his own frame, heat passing onto one another. 

Of course, his plans always work. To get her warmth next to him is none other than the very goal for today. Eyes shut close, the two of them enjoy a moment of silence with the comfortable atmosphere dancing merrily. Blankets and pillows scatter in a clutter, none of them minds that. It’s fun, Lumine will admit, to go against the rules and what nature says about yourself, once in a while. Her breathing smoothes, into a steady pace, and before he knows, the girl has fallen asleep. 

Venti picks up one of the many blankets gently, and lays it over the fast asleep girl. Everyday they find themselves sleeping soundly because of such astounding adventures the Anemo Archon leads on. Not to mention- the flutter in his chest and the longing of his warmth. He loves her. As the brunette caresses her cheek with the slightest wind, words fade into the breeze coming from the window. 

‘‘Stay with me once more, Lumine.’’

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY: SECOND CHANCES (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART FOUR

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan. Please note that both pairings are present in this fan fiction — off & on, at the same times, and the relationships do ebb & flow. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 3940+

Description:  Everybody’s first day back at Edenbrook. Is this second year everything they will need it to be?

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Ha. Soooo, its been a while. A long while. Many factors went into delaying updating this fic. First of all -- the pandemic. I am an essential worker. I am tired, and stressed. Yes, still. I am tired. I wake up, drive, work, drive, home, eat, sleep. That’s it. My freetime, creativity. mental health, etc. has been at an all time low. Second of all -- life. Soooo much has happened for my little family. My partner and I bought our first home and rescued our absolutely gorgeous puppy from a rescue shelter. It can be a bit hard to find time to write between putting your entire life into boxes, not having any furniture for 3 months and chasing after a puppy. Third -- I honestly felt like I lost my touch with my characters after reading Open Heart 2. The hiatus was understandable but long. There were chapters that were amazing, and heartbreaking and made me feel like I was soooo excited to write them. And then... by the end of Book 2... I felt lost? My favorite characters voices seem muffled. And I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep going. Do I ignore scenes/rewrite them? Would that compromise the premise of my fic? Being a fic that is in addition to the original PB story? I’m still a little lost if I am completely honest. Fourth -- general posting anxiety. Which I try so hard to avoid, and not think of. But comparison games, lack of notes and activity can get to you when you open yourself creatively online. 

But messages of encouragement and inquiries into the next update helped! And I thank everyone who checked in on the fic and on me to see what was going on ♡♡♡ Honestly, I felt like I had no time to write, and even if I did I wasn’t motivated or inspired enough to do it. Tonight, I felt good. The news of OH3 was a bit of a kick starter for me I won’t lie. But I want to get back into these character’s heads -- I want to figure out the god damn mess that Jordynne has made for herself with Ethan and Bryce!! 

As always any likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list please just let me know! It has been a long time since the fic updated so please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged or want to be tagged. 

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy​ @owleyes-374​ @lahelable​ @mayah-mahdy @paisleylovergirl​ @nicquix​ @emilymay100​ @octobereighth​ @llamasgrl​ @timmagicktoad​ @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck​ @mfackenthal​ @paulfwesley​ @ccolz88-blog​ @mindlessdreaminxo @jooous​ @lapisreviewsstuff​ @choicesarehard​ @themingdynasty​ @omgjasminesimone​ @hopelessly-shipper​ @binny1985​ @perriewinklenerdie​ @jens-diamondchoices​ @indiacater​ @chasingrobbie​ @writingsbymissy @dimitriwife​ @tacohead13​ @amy-choices @mrsmatsuo @checkurwindow​ @imrookieramsey​ @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @mrs-ramsey​

Previous Updates: Residency — Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen

Residency: Second Chances – Part One Part Two Part Three

Bryce stood near the entrance to Edenbrook — shuffling from one foot to another. Both hands were wrapped around paper coffee cups — one of which he took a careful sip of. 

So he had stopped to get her a latte from her favorite café. He knew she would probably be in a huge rush to get to work early and wouldn’t stop to get one. He wanted her day to start off right. At least he hadn’t shown up to the apartment.

Well, the thought had crossed his mind but he had quickly pushed it away. This was about being her friend. He just wanted Jordynne to have a good first day.

His dark eyes kept flicking towards the subway stairs, waiting patiently for that familiar blonde head to come bobbing up. Placing one of the cups on top of the other, he balanced them carefully as he dug into his jeans pocket for his phone. Maybe she had texted — 

“Oh Bryce — hey!” His ears perked up at the voice, and was met with a warm smile. The smile that occupied his waking dreams. He liked being the reason for that smile. 

“Hey Jordy!” God, why did he sound so breathless.

“Happy first day as a resident!” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, before grabbing onto her latte and extending it out, “I thought you should be extra caffeinated for your day, so I got you...” But his voice trailed off as he realized she was already clutching a travel mug to her chest. “Oh you already got one.”

“Uh, yeah,” Her smile turned sheepish, “I had the exact same thought process as you actually.” 

“Heh—,” he chuckled, “I guess I know you pretty well.” 

Her green eyes flashed with a look he couldn’t quite read, “Guess you do.” “Well, do you want it still...?” He held out the lukewarm latte again, unsure what to do with it. 

“Hey, I’m still Jordynne Holland. When have I ever denied extra caffeine?” Bryce’s white teeth bit his lip as they stretched into a smile. He handed her the cup — their fingers grazing slightly. 

“Thanks.” 

They fell into step behind the other roommates, trailing into the hospital. As they walked together, Bryce suddenly struggled to find what to say. He had never been one to stay quiet — usually he was the outspoken one. But now he just watched her grasp onto her two coffee cups tightly, her eyes low as she walked into Edenbrook. 

Once they made there way into the staff locker room, they separated to their own lockers. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she carefully sat her two drinks down, before grabbing her white coat. She slipped it on effortlessly, before wrapping her stethoscope around her neck. Flipping her blonde ponytail out, she turned to speak with Sienna — her voice to low for him to hear.

Jordynne looked amazing — her lean legs and hips wrapped in a deep green skirt that showed off just enough that it was both sexy and tasteful. Her high necked pale blouse brought out her olive skin. She could be the woman on the front of the pamphlets they hand out to pre-med undergrads. She already was the doctor she was aspiring to be — and he knew she would fit in well with the Diagnostics team. He thought of Ramsey — his pressed trousers, and leather dress shoes. His watch that probably cost more then Bryce’s car. Grinding his molars, he looked down at the wrinkles trousers and Nikes in his hands. Peeling his shirt off he tossed it gently into his locker, letting out a sigh.

But he quickly masked it as Jordynne went to leave the locker room. “Hey,” He caught her attention before she went to leave, “You’re gonna kill it, Holland.” 

“Thanks Lahela,” She gave him that smile again. The one that made everything flutter. 

“I’ll save you a seat at lunch?”

“Oh—“ Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in the middle, “I’m not sure how my day will look with the team... I’ll play it by ear?” She offered, looking a little guilty. 

“Yeah— yeah of course...” His voice sounded a little strained. “We’ll catch you later.” 

She nodded at him, pushing her hands into her pockets, “Okay, yeah. See you guys in the atrium,” She called out over her shoulder, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked away. 

Bryce’s brown eyes flickered over to the rest of her roommates, who were all watching with slightly worried looks. It was starting to settle in. Maybe this second year, this second chance — was the beginning of everything changing. ________________________________________________________________ He had originally come up here to get accustomed to his new surroundings. Get a lay of the land. The board had spared no expense with the new wing expansion — and the Diagnostic team’s new office was no joke. 

Ethan was standing across the hall from the room — staring into the room through the glass walls. Everything inside was sleek, shiny and new. His hands were bunched up fists in the pockets of his trousers, and the tie around his neck felt a little tight. Had he forgotten what all of this was like while he was away?  

Thirty minutes he had stood there. 

Thirty. 

Standing there and imagining where he would sit at the table — discussing with the team, leading them to the right diagnosis. Researching at the desk, pouring over the hundred books that was supplied for them in there. 

But the picture in his head was fuzzy. Even in his imagination Ethan felt like something didn’t feel right. What was it? 

The team? No. Mirani and Hirata always did excellent work. He could rely on them.

Was it that Naveen was missing? So many of his biggest successes with the team was with Naveen. And he definitely felt his absence this past year. He had also never really adjusted to the idea of being the team lead for the department. It was thrust upon him, not once but twice. And both times he had been unprepared. Being a leader wasn’t exactly what he had always hoped for in his career.

Ethan’s thick brows were furrowed as he thought, the gears in his mind whirling. Why had he been staring at the office for thirty minutes? What was stopping him from going inside and just doing his damn work? That’s what he came back for — so what was his trepidation? 

The light flickering on in the diagnostic teams office brought him back to reality. The room was illuminated, the white light shining through the glass walls and spilling into the hall. 

There she was. 

Jordynne stood at the entrance of the office, her back facing him as she took it all in. She hadn’t notice him from across the large hallway. Ethan stepped back into the shadows — hoping she wouldn’t see him capturing the moment. A silent laugh escaped him as he watched her set not one, but two coffee cups down onto the table. His lips remained upturned as he watched her wander deeper into the room, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the whiteboard. She had a soft smile on her face as she looked around her. 

“Good morning Dr. Ramsey!”

Ethan almost hissed at the sound of the cheerful voice next time. Looking over he saw Dr. Baz Mirani standing next to him with a wide smile spread across his face. 

“Morning,” He grumbled, looking back to his view of the diagnostics office where Jordynne had started to settle in. 

“That’s Dr. Holland right?” Baz followed his line of sight, and watching her for a moment. “Are you going to head in?” The young doctor questioned, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

He cleared his throat, before shaking his head, “You go ahead.”

The young man didn’t think anything of it, and marched over into the office. Ethan could hear their muffled voices through the glass as they introduced each other.

He noticed the next person that came up to him — Dr. Hirata. She gave him a nod, before pausing for a moment and staring at him in the dark side of the corridor. He could tell she was calculating, attempting to deduce what was keeping him out of their new office. But her face remained neutral and she turned on her heel and headed into the room. 

Maybe there were too many variables for her to figure it out too. 

His blue eyes watched as the three colleagues got familiar with each other, shaking hands and pleasantries. Maybe this would be a perfect time to go in. He had missed the awkward introductions — the worst part was over. He just had to go into the room. 

Running his hands over his white coat, Ethan crossed the hall and stepped into the brand new office. 

“Introductions done?” He asked, his thick brows raised. He glanced over them quickly, not long enough to make any eye contact. “Great. We’ve got work to do.” The glass door behind him gently hissed as it closed — leaving them all in the office together. 

Ok. First step done.

“We have an incoming patient from Manhattan Presbyterian.” The trio slid apart to make room for him as he marched to the board, pining up an abdominal CT scan. 

Jordynne, June and Baz grabbed a spot at the circular wooden table in the middle of the room. 

“Can you describe the patient?”

“Male, aged 45. Asian American.” He watched as Jordynne took out her trusty little black notebook, and started jotting down notes. 

“Symptoms?” 

“He presented with a fever, vomiting and diarrhea, and was treated for the flu. He returned several days later with enlarged lymph nodes, abdominal pain, and a rash on his shoulder.” Grabbing onto a black marker, he started to write the known symptoms down on the white board. With his back turned to the group for a moment, he let the corners of his lips turn up for a split second. This felt good. “What did his former doctors think it was?” 

“Hodgkin lymphoma.” He made sure he kept his face neutral -- to not give any answers away. 

June scoffed, “Amateurs. And his blood?” 

He almost laughed.

As the conversation started to amp up, Ethan slipped back into his role on the diagnostics team easier then he had imagined. Bouncing off of each other during the differential — he had missed this. 

Then he realized Jordynne hadn’t said anything. She was sitting in her chair, looking slightly awestruck. But she was still writing notes diligently and observing them going back and forth. 

“Six months ago, however, he was admitted for flu-like symptoms and a rash on his arm.” Ethan continued, drawing his eyes away from her and focusing back on the conversation. 

“That could be the key. Did they biopsy it?” Baz asked, eyebrows raised and face hopeful. 

He pursed his lips, “They didn’t.”

“Any history of dermatitis?” 

“Was he on any medication prior to being admitted?” 

June and Baz asked one after the other, going through their mental lists. “No and no.” 

“It could be cutaneous Kikuchi disease.” Hirata suggested. But she didn't do suggestions -- she diagnosed. 

Interesting.  

June had gotten there first. But she was always like that. It was a race for her.  

“The symptoms do add up.” Dr. Mirani nodded, giving his colleague a look of approval. 

“I agree.” 

There was a knock on the door, and they looked up to see Danny on the other side of the glass. Ethan waved him in where he announced the patient's arrival at Edenbrook.

“Excellent. Dr. Holland,” He spoke directly to her for the first time that morning —holding his breath as he waited for her reaction. But her face remained neutral, looking up at him through her lashes as she waited for him to finish, “Run a biopsy on the patient’s rash. If we’re correct, we’ll begin the patient on a treatment of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatories and prednisone.” 

He noticed her swallow for a moment, listening to her instructions. “And if we’re wrong?” 

“We’ll re-evaluate.” 

“But we won’t need to,” June said confidently, leaning across the table at Jordynne with a wink. 

“Team dismissed. I’ll page you if I need you again today.” He turned around, going back to the white board to add their final notes and treatment plan. 

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Baz put a gentle hand on Jordynne’s shoulder. He lowered his head to speak in her softly, “I made the same face my first few days on the team. You’ll get used to it.”  

Ethan crossed over to his desk to find the patient's file. Rummaging in his pockets, he found his glasses and slid them on. Without looking up from his file, he spoke to Jordynne who had remained in the room, “After you’re done with our patient, you can see Ines and Zaid for further assignments. You’ll be balancing your work here with your usual resident duties. Now that you’re in your second year, that will include rotations at the free clinic.” 

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Her voice was so professional, so trained. He had never heard her sound like that. It was like she had practiced.

He heard the sound of her crossing the room, and stepping towards the door. But then she hesitated. “Will we always diagnose a patient without seeing them?” She asked. 

“No, but we’re often asked for help by other hospitals all over the country, so it’s a good habit to keep our blind diagnosis skills sharp.” He finally looked up from his file, using his finger as a bookmark in it. But when he looked over to, his stomach flipped slightly as he found that her green eyes already staring at him.

He could see her hesitation, and maybe some nerves. She had just been thrown into the deep end -- and it seemed she was struggling to stay afloat. 

“Is everything alright, Jordynne?” 

He couldn’t help himself. Plus, it was his responsibility to ensure her success on the team now. It was apart of his job to check in on her.

“Actually...,” She made sure the glass door closed, before stepping further into the room, “Could we talk?” Her fingers were knotted together in front of her -- she looked nervous, and vulnerable. 

Ethan studied her for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek, “About the job? Or about us?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, like she was in pain. But it was for just for the smallest moment -- he had barely even caught it. “The job.”

Placing the file down, he pulled a chair from the center table out for her where they sat down together. He adjusted his glasses on the crook of his nose, before settling into his chair. “I’m all yours,” He said, folding his hands carefully on top of each other on the table as he waited for her to speak up.

“Dr. Ramsey...," A flicker of doubt crossed her face, before she opened her mouth, "How are you sure you made the right diagnosis?"

Grabbing the file in front of him, he pulled out the patient's previous charts and placed them in front of them. “In medicine, the most logical answer is usually the correct one. In this case, the most obvious answer was Hodgkin lymphoma.”

“But the other hospital had already eliminated Hodgkin lymphoma.” She finished for him. 

“Correct. Which allowed us to take it off the board and considered the next most logical answer.” He pointed back over his shoulder to the symptoms he had written on the board in his chicken scratch, “The patient had a persistent rash. Paired with the symptoms present, the most logical answer is Kikuchi disease." He met her eye easily across the table, before matching her vulnerability, "But as to how I’m so sure, I’m not. Which is why you’ll be running a biopsy. We need to trust in our diagnostic instincts, but the second we let arrogance overrule the results, we fail as doctors.” 

“So I should use logic... and be humble?” Her eyebrows were tugging in the middle as she processed his advice.  

“And read journals. I want you to turn yourself into a walking disease encyclopedia. You can’t diagnose the patient if you don’t study up. If the patients we saw had more common diseases... they’d never have been referred to us in the first place.” 

“Got it.” She nodded -- eyeing the bookshelves behind them that were filled with textbooks.

“So what did you think of the team?" He asked curiously, "It was the three of us under Naveen last year, until he put himself out to pasture.” 

A soft chuckle escaped her, “You mean became Chief of Medicine?”

He smiled at the sound, “Precisely.” 

“Well, we just met but I think I liked Baz.” Jordynne offered, pursing her lips.  

“He’s hard to dislike. Walking proof that genetics aren’t everything.” 

“When did he join the team?”

“A couple years ago, when Zaid began his residency. He sought a position here to be closer to his brother.” 

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Can’t believe Zaid would be okay with that.” 

“Supposedly, the old chief cleared it with Zaid before he approved the transfer. But I heard a rumor that it was Baz, dressed up pretending to be Zaid.” 

Her mouth fell open, “He wouldn’t!” 

He shrugged, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. “I don’t pay any mind to rumors.” 

She smirked back at him -- and he could feel the nervousness and ice melting between them. They could do this. 

Two colleagues conversing normally. This was fine. 

“So if I want to get on Baz’s good side, how do I go about that?” She leaned in a bit more towards him, putting her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her fist. 

Ethan thought for a moment before replying, “Baz is earnest to a fault. He respects authenticity more than anything so... as much as I despise saying anything so incredibly banal, my advice would be... “be yourself”,” He grimaced as the words left his mouth. 

“Oof—“ She chuckled, “That must have hurt to say aloud.” She knew him well. “That’s why you’ll never hear it again.” 

She let out another laugh, but this one sounded more sad. Then a sigh escaped her, and she started picking at her lip, “I thought I was so ready for this year. How do I feel like a clueless intern all over again?”

“Because you are clueless, relatively speaking.” 

She frowned, “Gee, thanks.”

His stomach dropped -- that's not what he meant. “It wasn't an insult," He scrambled to get out, "You get to spend the second year of your residency in a small room with over three decades of collective medical knowledge and experience. Learn from it. Be inspired to become a better doctor from it.” He looked up, and found her already looking at him again. His thick brows furrowed, “What is it?” 

“Oh uh... your glasses...," Her words trailed off as she looked at him, "They make you look smart.” She sounded a little breathless. 

He did his best to ignore how that made him feel, the blush that might have been creeping up on his cheeks. So he hid between cheek and tongue. “You’ve caught me. The illusion behind my status. Without these I’m a simpering moron.”

The pair was quiet for a beat, before bursting out laughing. As they laughed, she casually tapped his hand with hers. “Thank you,” She spoke again, but this time her voice was quiet. 

Her fingers had lingered on his hand, so she gave it a squeeze. They were cold on his warm skin.

Ethan's jaw set as he felt those familiar sparks. Jordynne...” His voice was a warning. It was only the first hour of their first day. 

“I know.” She said carefully, but she looked down at the table. 

“We’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.” 

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. 

“Yeah,” She breathed out. 

He moved his thumb gently across her fingers, daring to give her just that smallest bit of comfort. But the sound of the glass door whooshing open caused him to rip his hand away. 

“Whoops! Forgot my pager! That could have been very bad!” Baz strolled back into the office -- oblivious to what he had just walked in on. 

Both Ethan and Jordynne bolted out of their chairs, stepping away from each other. 

“Hmm. Yes. It’s right over there on the table.” Ethan pointed before shoving his guilty hands into his lab coat.

“I’ll get those tests run.” Jordynne had moved to the door, her arms crossed over her chest and face flushing red with embarrassment. 

“Excellent. Thank you.” He said with a nod, watching as she turned on her heel and marched down the hallway. 

Why was nothing ever easy with Jordynne Holland? 

Would this year be any different? 

_______________________________________________________________

"Cholecystitis." Jordynne said as she finished adding it to the whiteboard in the diagnostics room. Her perfect block letters standing out drastically against Dr. Ramsey's messy scratch. "Inflamed gull bladder which explains the abdominal pain after eating. Which is entirely separate from Kikuchi disease."

She turned around, capping the pen with a confident smile. Esme was standing near the door, watching the scene unfurl with crossed arms. 

"I have to say, I'm not sure I would have spotted that." June spoke first -- looking mildly impressed. 

"Nice catch, Jordynne." Baz gave her a big smile. 

"Indeed. Especially since we had been diagnosing based on reports, not our own face-to-face interviews. Dr. Holland's specialty has always been listening to her patients. Well done." He gave her a nod, a smile threatening to show on his face. 

"It wasn't just me. Dr. Ortega assisted." She nodded to her intern at the door. She knew that drove Ethan crazy -- passing along credit to her colleagues. But Esme deserved it. 

"Hey," Esme nodded her head at the trio from the corner of the room, attempting a smile.

"So this is your intern?" Ramsey stepped forward, eyebrows raised. "Well, Dr. Ortega...," He sized her up for a moment, before moving his steely eyes over to Jordynne. "Dr. Holland's one of our best. Consider yourself lucky."

Jordynne felt warmth spread in her chest -- feeling proud of herself. High praise from Dr. Ramsey -- everything between them aside. 

"I do, Dr. Ramsey." 

"Keep me updated on his treatment." Ethan asked politely, before filing out of the room with the rest of the diagnostics team. 

"So I guess you're pretty good at this." Her intern looked at her with a little smirk. "You saw for yourself, I learned from the best. Edenbrook has some of the best doctors in America, and you'll learn from them all. And not just the attendings, but your fellow interns too. I wouldn't have made it through without my friends."

"You telling me to what... be more social?" Esme looked up at her -- her face filled with doubt.

She shrugged, the corners of her lips tugging up, "It can't hurt."

"It definitely can."

"Donahue's from the other night? That's where everyone goes. But first, let's get you back to your patients." Jordynne started to shuffle out of the office, but Esme's voice stopped her. 

"Right... Hey, Dr. Holland? Thanks for not bailing on me. Gotta say, that's a new one." She sounded genuine.

"Sure thing, Ortega. I got your back." 

This year could be different.

[goldenhemmings]

In Your Atmosphere

Shawn Mendes x reader  |  9,005 words

Whew. Hi guys. It’s been a while, I know, but actually having freetime again has made me realize just how much I miss writing. This piece is sort of a rollercoaster and I didn’t really edit it or anything, so please excuse any errors or if it just sucks in general. It’s based on In Your Atmosphere by John Mayer, and I’m pretty sure it’s also the first and only thing I’ve written that isn’t an AU. I hope you enjoy it, and I always love hearing what you guys think!!

There was a reason why the majority of Shawn’s songwriting and recording happened in Los Angeles. The city had always possessed a certain spark that inspired him, and the only way he knew how to describe the feeling it gave him was through the music that he wrote there. Its atmosphere was incomparable to that of any other city in the world, even his hometown. Toronto would always be special to Shawn, but Los Angeles was a different kind of special. It was magic. 

It was no surprise, then, to find Shawn once again back in L.A. making music even though it had only been a few months since he’d released an entire album. He had a love affair with the city, and he just couldn’t seem to stay away from the beckoning of the lights, the sunsets, the ocean. To him it was all music waiting to be created, and he wouldn’t dare deny himself the opportunity.

Since his first visit, he’d always described the city as being full of magic; so full to the point where he didn’t think it possible to get any better. That, however, was before Y/N walked--well, tripped--into his life; once she happened, L.A. came to mean something else to Shawn entirely. Something more. 

He remembered it clearly, the first time he met her. Cliché as it was, he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He was sitting on the beach, facing the ocean as he hummed melodies in his head and scribbled lyric after potential lyric into the leather-bound notebook that rested on his outstretched legs. She was walking through the sand, a tattered copy of The Catcher in the Rye clutched between her delicate fingertips as her eyes were glued to the yellowed pages. Neither person was aware of their surroundings, and it was inevitable, really, that she would trip and fall over his legs, belly-flopping into the sand as her book went flying. 

Shawn was up immediately, his music disregarded as he offered a hand to help her back on her feet. “I’m so sorry,” he gushed, gently lifting her to sit up. He handed her book back to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she sighed, brushing the sand off of her faded t-shirt. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who apparently never learned to watch where I’m going.”

He laughed lightly, and it was a sound she could get used to hearing. “Must be some book you’re reading.”

“The Catcher in the Rye,” she stated, smiling as she flashed him the cover. “It’s not exactly a typical beach-read, but it’s one of my favorites. I’ve probably read it, like, seven times by now.” 

“Never heard of it,” he admitted, and her eyes blew wide. Shawn was immediately taken with her, physically evidenced by the fact that he couldn’t seem to wipe the stupid smile off of his mouth though he’d yet to even learn her name. 

“Never?” she quipped, sitting down in the sand across from him as though she were preparing to recite the entire plot of the book. 

He grinned, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not a big book-reader, I guess.”

“Well what do you like, then?” she pressed, absentmindedly shaking the sand out from between the worn pages of her beloved novel. “If it’s not books?”

“Music,” he admitted, leaning back onto his hands as a wave reached shore. The tide had been steadily creeping closer to him as his hours spent on the beach increased. He’d figured that he’d have to move soon, but as this girl’s expectant eyes bore into his he found himself wishing that a wave would come swallow him whole and carry him out to sea. He almost couldn’t bear to be in the vicinity of the aura she was casting over him; she was overwhelming in a way he’d never known before.

“Everyone likes music, though,” she answered, studying his face carefully.

Shawn laughed, staring down at the sand underneath him. “True, but not everyone plays music for a living.”

“A musician,” she drawled, in a tone that made it hard for Shawn to tell if she was intrigued or mocking. He quite quickly learned it was the former. 

He talked with her until well after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, the impending darkness and creeping tide the only forces strong enough to tear him away from her. She’d recently graduated college and moved to L.A. upon receiving the internship of a lifetime, and though she’d only been living in the city for a year, she seemed to be just as enraptured with it as Shawn was. He let her scribble her phone number on a page of his notebook after a promise to call her the next day, and the two went their separate ways as they tried to race home before the moon could reach its peak in the sky.

The thought of someone else's writing in his precious music journal would usually make Shawn’s skin crawl; his team was constantly teasing him about how protective he was over it. But Y/N, however, could have up and run off with the thing and he’d have been powerless to stop it. It wouldn’t have been the only piece of him she’d run off with that night, anyways. 

Since that day, whether Shawn consciously recognized it or not, Los Angeles was no longer his city, with its entire atmosphere at his disposal. It was her atmosphere now. She was city lights and sunsets and the ocean and music all rolled into one; every bit of inspiration he’d ever needed. She was a million songs waiting to be written, all for him to discover and create. 

Any time he went to L.A. after that, Y/N was the first thing on his mind. It was almost routine; his plane would land, he’d collect his things, and he’d race to her door. She’d greet him with the same brilliant smile and mind-numbing kiss as always, and they’d spend every waking second in each others’ presence. Even doing nothing at all meant everything to them; each was intoxicated by the other in the best, most addicting way. 

It stayed like this for a while: effortless, constant. Shawn always made sure to clear time in his schedule at least once a month to go see her, and she was in Toronto any chance she got. But then a cloud began looming over the two of them, casting a fast-approaching shadow that would soon coat them in darkness: tour. A nearly nine month long tour, the weight of which pressed down on the couple more intensely with each passing day until, finally, Shawn couldn’t stand to live in a state of denial anymore. Tour was happening, which meant he would have to leave Y/N for longer than he ever had before. 

It was a lazy Sunday morning lying in bed when he decided to bring up the subject for real--no more dancing around it. They needed to talk about it. Y/N had her head on his bare chest and one of her legs slotted between both of his, gently toying with the pendant that seemed to never leave its home around his neck. Shawn sighed, and Y/N immediately knew he had something to say.

“What’s up, love?”

Shawn shook his head, prepared to back out of the conversation and continue living in his state of blissful ignorance for a little while longer. “Nothing.”

But Y/N knew him better than that. She lifted her head and tilted her jaw back to look at him, immediately met with worried brown eyes staring up at the ceiling. “Hey,” she coaxed, reaching a gentle hand up to turn his face towards hers. “There’s something on your mind.”

Shawn laughed halfheartedly. “There’s always something on my mind.” Y/N was silent, beginning to gently trace light patterns on his chest as she awaited his inevitable continuation. “It’s just...tour.”

Y/N frowned. “What about it?” 

He looked at her, hesitating, nervousness clear in his eyes. “Come with me.”

“On tour?” she queried with a small smile, convinced he was just beginning to make up some whimsical daydream for the two of them to live in until reality eventually hit. 

His eyes searched her face for any sign of what she might be thinking. “Yes.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m completely serious,” he defended, and when Y/N looked up at him, she knew he was. 

“I can’t just up and leave my job,” she answered, but the look on Shawn’s face seemed to insist that she could. “I can’t,” she repeated, more firmly this time. But how was she supposed to adequately explain that to someone whose job was quite literally packing up and leaving a million times over?

“But you’re my inspiration,” he whined, teasingly, and she smiled softly as she reached up to lightly scratch her fingers along his scalp. “I need you there.”

“Everything inspires you, Shawn. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he admitted quietly, the true vulnerability he’d been feeling about the situation finally coming to the surface. Y/N sighed, burying her head into the warmth of his neck.

“We’ve made the distance work so far,” she reassured, but she was mostly trying to convince herself. “It’ll be okay. I’ll come see you when you play here.”

He groaned. “But that’s so far from the start of tour.” He looked at her once again, melancholy brown eyes half-lidded. “Come with me,” he repeated once more, but it was a weak plea; he knew the answer was no. 

“I want to,” she breathed out, and Shawn’s grip on her tightened like he was worried she’d be stolen away from him right in that moment. “But I can’t. It isn’t practical for me.”

“I know,” he sighed, reluctance evident even in the way the breath left his chest. “I just wish you could.”

“Stop doing that,” she responded sternly. “It’s not fair to me. You know I’d go with you in a heartbeat if the circumstances were right.”

He let out a heavy exhale. “I know,” he repeated. “‘M sorry.”

“You love touring,” she continued. “The time will fly and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“And the second it is, I’ll get on a plane to LAX and race to your door like I always do. You just have to promise me you’ll be here.”

“I’ll always be here,” she affirmed, her voice not above a whisper. “It’s up to you to come back.” And in that moment, she was certain that he would.

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

The day of the first show, Y/N was physically unable to focus on anything other than Shawn. Her rockstar boyfriend was about to play to thousands of screaming people in a city so far away from her that it made her heart ache, and as much as she wanted to hear his voice, she knew he was too busy to spare the time to talk to her. So she didn’t call, because she knew he’d answer regardless of whether or not he had time, and she waited with painful anticipation to hear from him later that afternoon.

When her phone finally lit up with a FaceTime call just after 1 p.m. (around 11 at night in Amsterdam, she’d memorized the time difference), Y/N surged to pick it up with cat-like reflexes. 

“Hey,” she beamed, taking in the way Shawn’s cheeks were still red from the high of his performance. “How was the show?”

He stared back at her with a goofy, love-drunk smile on his face. “Amazing. Best way to start the tour.” At this she smiled, but Shawn’s lingering pause caused her upturned lips to waver. “Would be even better if you were here.”

Y/N’s sighed. “You’re still the Shawn Mendes people are dying to see whether I’m there or not. You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “Still want you here, though.”

“I want to be there, too,” she admitted. “But--”

“But you can’t be, I know,” he interjected. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

Desperate to change the subject, Y/N went fumbling for something lighter to bring up. “So where do you play tomorrow?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. 

“Another night in Amsterdam, then Belgium in a few days.”

She smiled. She’d never even been out of the United States until she went to visit Shawn in Toronto, and here he was getting to experience all of Europe in the most amazing way. “That sounds incredible,” she answered, and she meant it. Her eyes lit up at the thought of getting to hear about all of Shawn’s adventures around the world. 

“I miss you like crazy, Y/N.”

“You’d better toughen up,” she teased, ignoring the way his words made her heart twist. “You haven’t even been gone a week.”

“So?” he laughed. “I already can’t wait for the L.A. show.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled. “It’s on you to come back to me.”

“I’ll always come back to you, sweetheart.”

And Y/N believed him, as she always did. But as Shawn got further into his tour and time began to pass, her certainty started to fade. At first, things were fine. They spoke every single night without fail, and usually more during the day. He’d share stories and make her guess what he’d bought her that day, promising to bring back a souvenir from every city he stopped in despite her insistence that she didn’t want him to bring her anything except himself and stories of the things he’d done and seen. 

But as days faded into weeks and weeks into months, Y/N and Shawn’s consistency began to fade as well. With increasing frequency, she saw videos on his friends’ social media accounts of him out partying in seemingly every major city in the world. It wasn’t that she was opposed to him having fun, but nights that he had sworn to call were now being spent having drunken adventures without her while she sat at home finding any excuse to absolve him from all of his broken promises. But it only got harder, because he eventually stopped making time to call her altogether. The perspective Y/N lacked, however, was that the less Shawn heard her voice, the easier it was for him to be apart from her.

It was stupid, he knew. But it was a temporary fix, and it worked for him. 

But Y/N didn’t want easy; she never had. She didn’t want someone who would avoid the challenge when it came to distance. She wanted Shawn to fight for her, and after all they’d been through together, she didn’t think that was too much to ask. Shawn’s lack of communication led Y/N to an immense confusion and worry as to why he was suddenly being so distant. It didn’t make sense. Does he not miss me? 

The one thing Y/N had to look forward to through all of the tumult was Shawn’s fast-approaching tour stop in Los Angeles; when she would finally get to see her rockstar after months of being apart. She bought a new outfit specifically for the concert and had her best friend come to do her hair on the night of the show, not caring that she was acting like an over-excited teenager getting ready for prom. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of Shawn and all of the memories they had made under countless cotton-candy L.A. sunsets, ready to begin adding to the collection in only a few hours. Y/N thanked her friend for the help and hugged her goodbye before ducking into her small car, ready to begin the drive to the venue. Before pulling out of the driveway she fired off a quick text to Shawn: Leaving home now. I can’t wait to see you. 

As she drove she had to constantly remind herself to slow down, that there was no need to race to the arena; Shawn wasn’t going anywhere. But as much as Y/N was excited, she was equally as nervous. She hadn’t really had a solid conversation with Shawn in weeks, and even then he had seemed detached and preoccupied. She pushed the thoughts from her head as the miles went by. Relax. Everything will be fine.

She eventually pulled into the closest parking lot she could find, and she rolled her car into a spot and made her way up to the arena, shooting Shawn a quick, excited text. I’m here!! See you soon. She quickly found the side door of the venue, met with a burly security guard. She smiled, but the guard didn’t seem to warm up to her. “Main entrances are around the front.”

“Oh, I...This is actually the door I’m looking for. Shawn or someone from his team should have given you my name, I think.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, and Y/N couldn’t tell whether he was amused or frustrated. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, sweetheart. You can’t get in this way.”

Y/N stumbled over her words a bit, taken aback by the trouble she was being given. “I-I’m serious. I’m his girlfriend, I have pictures I can show you.” She flashed her lockscreen at him, a photo clearly depicting Shawn and Y/N lighting up the display. “Don’t you have a boss, or something?” she pleaded. “A person you can call that can get ahold of someone from Shawn’s team? I promise they’ll recognize me. I don’t mean to inconvenience you, and I’m sorry for being pushy, it’s just that I’m really looking forward to this and they’re expecting me and I don’t have another way into the arena.” She knew she was rambling, as she often did when she could sense that something was wrong, and she was powerless to stop the slight shake in her hands as she waited for the security guard to respond.

The guard sighed, and Y/N felt her heart drop as she realized the answer would still be no. “Look, kid. As convincing as that all is, and as much as I personally would like to open this door for you, I can’t. I have a job to do. I wasn’t given your name, which means I can’t let you in unless someone comes to get you. I’m sorry.”

Heartbroken, she backed away, fighting the weight that came with knowing that Shawn had forgotten about her, had forgotten to tell security she was coming. Had he really not remembered? She shook the thoughts out of her head, convincing herself that maybe he’d just gotten distracted. She reached for her phone to dial Shawn’s number, but her shoulders fell when the call went straight to voicemail. She tried Andrew this time, but again...nothing. After frantic calls to Cez, Josiah, Mike, anyone whose number was saved in Y/N’s phone, all went to voicemail, Y/N finally gave up. By now, it was surely too close to showtime for her to reach anyone. 

With no ticket, no security clearance, and no way of reaching anyone inside the stadium, the only thing for Y/N to do was go home. She felt pathetic as she walked down the sidewalk in her new outfit, mascara-stained tears streaming down the face she’d spent hours putting makeup on. Hundreds of fans passed her as they walked in the opposite direction towards the venue, and with each smiling girl she saw, Y/N’s distress heightened. How could he forget about me? 

As she ducked into her car she hoped with all the strength she had that her phone would ring before she got home. She’d accept the rushed apologies and speed back to the arena, caring about nothing except finally seeing Shawn. He’d smile so brightly upon seeing her again that it’d make her heart skip a beat, and she’d bounce along to the songs she loved so much from the side of the stage, counting down the seconds until she could hug him again. She wished for that; willed it to happen. 

But she was sorely disappointed. 

It wasn’t until nearly 11 p.m. that her phone finally rang, and despite her current state, Y/N’s heart still jumped upon seeing Shawn’s name lighting up the display. She lunged for it, taking a deep, steadying breath before tapping the button to answer the call. “Hey,” she mumbled, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Hey,” came Shawn’s breathy voice through the speaker. “Where are you?”

She scoffed, pressing a hand to the forehead that ached from crying. “I’m at home.”

A pause. She could easily visualize the furrow in his brow. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t get into the venue.”

“What? What do you mean?”

She laughed, but she wasn’t amused. “You really don’t know?”

“I…”

“No one gave my name to security, Shawn,” she snapped. “I drove all the way there and I couldn’t get in, so I left.”

The other line was silent as Shawn realized his mistake. “I--Fuck. Oh my God, baby, I’m so sorry. I was so distracted, and the Q&A went over time, and--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut in, surprising even herself. “The bottom line is that you forgot, and it took you this long to call me. Your show has been over for more than an hour.”

“Why didn’t you call someone else to let you in?” he demanded, accusation lacing his words.

“I did!” Y/N cried out, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “God, do you really think I didn’t try that?”

He sighed, and Y/N could picture his defeated expression in her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can do to fix it now. I just--.” She sighed. It wasn’t worth it. “Nevermind.”

“You just what?”

“Nothing. You should go to sleep, you’re probably tired.”

“Y/N,” he pressed, and it was clear that he was frustrated. 

“Okay, fine,” she burst, all of her frustration bubbling right back up to the surface. “I was going to say that I was so excited to see you tonight, but I don’t even know why.”

Shawn sucked in a breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N tried to relax, knowing that she’d reached the point of no return; she was finally going to confront him. “I just can’t help but wonder if you ever actually cared that I was coming. I’ve hardly heard from you in months, but I still got all dressed up and was so happy I couldn’t breathe just to see someone who won’t even talk to me. I’m done making excuses to justify why you never call anymore.” She laughed dryly, realizing how pathetic that sounded; he wouldn’t even speak to her to make the excuses for himself. “You act like I don’t even exist half the time. I don’t know why I thought tonight would be different.”

There was some shuffling from the other end of the phone, and Y/N heard a voice--probably Brian’s--asking Shawn where he was going. A few more seconds passed and suddenly the background noise was gone. “Look, I’m with the whole team right now. Can we please talk about this later?”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now, Shawn? I’m sick of being avoided. I deserve to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll call you later, alright?”

“No, you won’t,” she burst, sadness quickly dissolving into anger. “If you hang up the phone right now you will never talk to me again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Don’t even try to make me feel like it’s ridiculous that all I want is an explanation.” 

She could hear him exhale into the receiver, and her heart pounded with anticipation as she waited for him to finally speak. “I’m sorry. It’s just hard.”

“What’s hard?”

“Finding time for this, I don’t know. It sucks being away from you. Hearing your voice--I just can’t do it.”

While she appreciated that Shawn was finally beginning to open up to her, Y/N didn’t fully buy what he was saying. “It wasn’t too hard when you first left,” she rebutted. “You didn’t seem to find it hard when you were forcing yourself to stay awake at night just because you wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s not that easy, alright? You don’t know what it’s like. You aren’t here.” 

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Wow.”

“What?” Shawn asked, but it was flat. 

“I just hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are.” She was not about to put up with him spitting her absence back in her face as though her staying behind was unreasonable. 

“It’s just that—” he stumbled, trying to keep his frustration in check. “I tried countless times to get you to come with me. You know you could’ve.”

“So now the way you’ve been treating me is my own fault?”

“No, it’s just that if you were here--”

“Well I’m not, Shawn, and you need to get over it. You aren’t the only important thing in my life. I wasn’t about to give up my job—the job that I love—to have some nine-month, fairy tale vacation across the world. Don’t you dare put this on me.”

“I’m not trying to--” His voice stopped as someone talking to him became clear through the line. He was quickly back on the receiver, but it wasn’t to pick up where he left off. “I have to go.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I have to.”

“Shawn.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not doing this with you. If you hang up right now, this is over.”

There was a pause long enough to give Y/N the slightest bit of hope, but as quickly as it had come, it was shattered. “I’m sorry,” Shawn said. Then the line went dead.

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

March. It had been three months since the end of Shawn’s tour, and nearly six since things had ended with Y/N. Not a day went by in those six months, though, that he hadn’t fallen asleep thinking of her and woken up wishing she were there. It was excruciating, and worsened in knowing that it was entirely his fault.  

Shawn was nursing a small glass of whiskey and staring blankly into a television screen when he felt his phone buzz from the arm of the couch beside him. He figured it was just Brian wondering where he’d been; he hadn’t been in the mood to go out with his friends even though he was home in Toronto, and he knew they were wondering about him. He set his cup on the coffee table and reached for the device, sighing when he instead saw a message from Andrew. 

I need you to verify that you’re good with the dates for LA so that I can confirm our jet. 

While tour had only been over for three months, it was time for Shawn, unwaveringly hardworking as he was, to get back to the studio and begin working on new music. But, for once in his life, Shawn wanted nothing less than to go to L.A. and pretend like it hadn’t been six months since he’d last spoken to Y/N. The text from his manager sent a sinking feeling reverberating through his chest, and he was instantly averse to the idea of following through with the plans he’d made months before. 

He immediately dialed Andrew’s number, who answered after the first ring. “Shawn?”

“I don’t think I want to go to L.A. anymore,” he blurted, and he could envision the way his poor manager’s eyes had probably gone wide in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I just don’t,” he said flatly, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he lied, but his manager knew better. 

“You love Los Angeles. I know you do.”

“I don’t,” he mumbled. 

“Be honest with me, man. What’s wrong?”

Shawn groaned, tugging tired hands through tufts of unruly brown hair. “I don’t know what it’s like to land at the airport and not go right to her. I can’t be in the same city as her. I’d die if I saw her.”

“Y/N, you mean,” Andrew mused, but of course he knew that was exactly who Shawn was talking about. “So don’t see her.”

“But I’d die if I didn’t see her, either,” Shawn admitted. “Especially knowing I was only a car ride away. So I just don’t want to go.”

His manager sighed. “We already booked the house, Shawn. The whole team is coming.”

“So tell them not to.”

Andrew laughed lightly at this, and as much as Shawn was frustrated by it, it also grounded him in the realization that he was being a bit ridiculous. “The way you feel right now will make for some incredible music, Shawn. I know you, and I know that you'll kick yourself for not taking advantage of that.”

“The last thing I want to do right now is write music.”

“How many times have you said you can’t wait to have your heart broken so that you can write an album about it?”

“I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“Use that.”

“I can’t. It fuckin’ hurts.”

“Then go see her.”

Shawn paused to ponder whether or not he’d heard Andrew correctly. “I already told you, I can’t do that.”

“I’m serious,” Andrew replied, his tone still as even as it always was. “I think you clearly need to have a conversation with her. You haven’t seen each other in person since you left for tour.”

“She won’t want to see me,” Shawn mumbled. 

Andrew let out a heavy breath. “You’re right, she probably won’t. But I think that for both of your sakes, you need to talk face-to-face. You need closure, and I’m sure she does too.”

“God, I’m such an idiot,” Shawn mumbled, and Andrew did well not to comment on it. 

“Just relax. You’re going to Los Angeles and we will all be there with you to support you like always. Whether or not you see Y/N is up to you, but I think you need to go.”

Shawn let out a heavy breath, but it didn’t relieve the tension in his shoulders. “Fine,” he groaned. “I’ll go.”

“The original dates still work for you? Two weeks from now?”

“Yeah,” Shawn assented, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “I’ll see you there.”

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

The first thing Shawn did after dropping his bags off at the house his team would be staying at in Los Angeles was take the keys to one of the rental cars and drive straight to Y/N’s house. 

He had a box filled with souvenirs he’d bought for her at various tour cities tucked into the passenger seat--a box that he’d been dying to give to her. It drove him crazy to see it lying around his condo, and he jumped at the opportunity to finally hand it off to her. 

As he drove, every bone in his body screamed at him to stop. Even the world around him seemed to be mocking him. The sunset laughed at his foolishness for thinking that his relationship was different from the thousands of others it had seen come to an end under its golden touch. The streetlights, beginning to flicker on as the sun set further, told him to never mind, forget her. Even the mountains ridiculed him, their deep-set lines seeming to smirk back at him as they awaited a surely inevitable disaster. 

He stared at his hands, clenched at ten and two on the steering wheel. It made him feel lonelier, if possible, knowing the hand that usually rested in Y/N’s as he drove was now forced to join its companion on the wheel. Her voice wasn’t coming from beside him directing him where to go because, no matter how many times he swore he knew his way around the city, he was lost without her guidance. He felt empty being in her city without her. It was wrong.

He finally managed to find his way to her quaint house, parking on the street parallel to it. He immediately felt his heart jump into his throat upon realizing that he actually had no plan for what to say or do. He was worried she didn’t love him anymore the way he still loved her, even though she had every reason not to. But he didn’t care; he still needed to see her. If it meant that he could hear her voice, he’d let her tell him every day that she didn’t love him. He craved her that badly. 

Shawn hesitated as he raised his knuckles to the front door, eyeing the broken doorbell and wondering if she’d gotten it fixed in the time he was gone. He finally decided to just knock as he’d always done, and it wasn’t long before the familiar beige door was opening in front of him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her after nine excruciating months. Her hair was longer and she was clad in one of the shirts he’d left behind for her, but he couldn’t ignore how tired she looked. 

Y/N’s face fell the second she saw him, and her immediate instinct was to slam the door in his face. But her mind and her body were at a disconnect--her thoughts racing, but her limbs frozen. She didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there, wide-eyed, staring back at him.

“Nice shirt,” was the first thing he could say, and Y/N looked down at herself like she’d forgotten what she was wearing.

“Sorry, I, um, I need to do laundry really badly,” she answered sheepishly, folding her arms over her chest and knowing that it was a blatant lie. She was surprised she remembered how to talk. “You can have it back.”

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t apologize. Looks right on you. You look beautiful.” 

Y/N’s expression remained stiff and cold. “I didn’t apologize.”

“Yes, you did,” he pushed back, a semblance of a smile playing on his mouth.

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the box under his arm and already feeling drained of energy. “What did you come here for, Shawn?”

“I, uh--” he stammered, searching for words that wouldn’t sound as childish as he felt right then. Hearing her say his name didn’t feel as right as it always had. “I wanted to give you this.” He thrust the box out at her, but she didn’t take it.

“What is it?”

“I got you something from all the cities we stopped at on tour up until, uh, you know,” he trailed off, reaching a hand up to scrub sheepishly at the back of his neck. “I don’t really have any use for this stuff and I was in town so I figured I should just give it all to you.”

She skeptically took the box, reaching inside and gingerly pulling out a small metal cactus that sprouted from a base that read Arizona, the Grand Canyon State. She sighed and dropped it back inside the box, turning behind her to set it on the floor of her entryway. 

“There’s no way that you came all the way here just to give me this stuff. What is it really?”

Shawn let out a huff of breath, running a hand down his face. She knew him so well that it drove him crazy. “I don’t know,” he answered, and it was the truth. “Just missed you, I guess.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed, looking to the side so as to avoid eye contact. She never swore, and it tugged at a separate piece of Shawn’s heart knowing that he was the one to make her.

“I did,” he pressed, floored at the accusation that he hadn’t when, in reality, he’d missed her so intensely that even his bones ached. 

“You cut me off and then gave me six months of radio silence,” she bit back, her words accusatory. “So I don’t believe you.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrated on finding any words that could possibly make this better. He finally looked up, coming to terms with the fact that the damage he’d inflicted was certainly irrevocable. “I messed up, okay? And there will never be enough words to tell you how sorry I am.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you could say to make me forgive you, anyway.”

He swallowed, hard. He had no plan for what to say to her, and the longer she stared at him the more his body felt like it was on fire. “Will you at least let me apologize? Even if you don’t forgive me.”

Y/N was quiet, her incriminating stare unwavering. “Fine,” she reluctantly assented, not missing the way Shawn let out a heavy breath of relief. 

“Can I come in?”

“No. You can apologize just the same out here.”

“It’s just that--,” he paused, sighing. “Okay.” He’d wanted to remind Y/N that she’d probably start yelling at him at some point, because he knew her and he knew how she was sometimes unable to fight back her emotions, but he refrained. He was lucky she hadn’t slammed the door in his face by now. 

He took a deep breath, and Y/N tapped her foot in impatience. On the inside, however, her heart had begun to beat just a tiny bit faster. She wasn’t happy to see Shawn, but, much to her dismay, she wasn’t exactly mad about it either. She was mad at him, that much was clear, but he was still Shawn. Seeing him here, in front of her, made her realize that her feelings weren’t as far-gone as she’d convinced herself they were.

A nervous laugh slipped from his mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you to let me get this far, I don’t really have much of a plan.” But Y/N was silent, and Shawn cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry I ghosted you. I’m sorry I forgot to get you into the stadium when we planned for you to come. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t stronger, just in general.”

“Me too.” 

He took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “It just...it got to a point where I couldn’t stand to listen to you say you missed me anymore. I know my lifestyle isn’t necessarily conducive to a good relationship and it was just hard knowing what I was putting you through. Hearing your voice was hard for me, too. I thought distancing myself from you would make it easier to cope with being away from you, I never--,” he broke off, running an anguished hand through his hair. “I never wanted this to happen to us. I just needed space. There were times when I was completely ready to just up and fly to L.A. not caring what the consequences would be, and that terrified me. I wasn’t focusing on my shows because all I could think about was you.”

She frowned, her face clearly expressing disbelief. “You were willing to abandon your tour to get on a plane to come see me, but then you didn’t have it in you to talk to me on the phone? On nights you knew I was waiting up for you to call?” She shook her head, and Shawn wished he could unsee the tears brimming in her eyes. “How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I know that it probably doesn’t make sense,” he admitted. He clenched his hands together as he physically fought the urge to reach over and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t strong enough to be away from you, so I did everything I could to get rid of the thought of missing you. Worse, of you sitting here missing me.”

“If you loved me as much as you said you did, you shouldn’t have been able to just ignore me like that. I went crazy trying to convince myself that there was a time where I even mattered to you at all.”

“You do matter to me!” Shawn insisted, his words jumping in volume until he remembered he was still standing outside on the porch. “You always have. You’re everything.”

“Then why didn’t you act like it?” she demanded, pretending like her voice hadn’t just broken. “I just--None of this makes any sense to me! We’re here because you couldn’t even make it through the first half of your tour without abandoning all the promises you made to me before you left. You swore you would come back.”

“I did come back,” he replied, weakly. “I’m here now.”

“No,” she spat, pressing her wrists over her eyes as though it would hold in the tears. “You showing up at my door after all this time and blindsiding me like this is not the promise you made to me to come back. Do you have any idea what it feels like to spend months waiting for someone to come home to you, knowing deep inside yourself the entire time that he isn’t actually coming home? Do you have a single fucking clue what you put me through?” He was silent. “I stayed awake night after night for hours waiting for calls that weren’t coming. I started to actually feel guilty for not putting my life on hold to follow you around the world, which is fucking ridiculous, Shawn! I hate that you made me feel that way.”

“I do too,” he responded, tugging an agitated hand through curls that were already messy from his five-hour flight earlier that day. “And it’s clear that you’re not going to forgive me, and I don’t blame you for that. I just--I don’t know what to do. I have never loved someone the way I love you.”

“Neither have I,” she admitted meekly, pretending to be less affected by his words than she actually was. “But that doesn’t change what you did.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a few moments, Y/N’s eyes looking at the floor even though she could feel Shawn’s stare glued to her face. The quiet eventually came to be too much for Shawn to take, and he was the first to speak again. “So now what?”

Y/N finally looked up at him. “I don’t know. I guess you leave.”

“Leave?” he interrogated, taken aback. 

She arched a brow. “What?” 

“There’s just so much else to talk about.”

“I don’t have anything left to say to you,” she sassed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Tell me you actually want me to leave,” Shawn demanded. At this point, he was grasping for straws to keep her talking to him. Y/N blinked, her mouth falling open but no words coming out. “Tell me you want me to leave,” he repeated, “and I will.”

“I--”

“I know you want me to stay.”

“You have no idea what I want, you arrogant asshole.”

Shawn huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve said I’m sorry, okay? I want to start over.”

But Y/N wasn’t willing to give in. “Is that what you think?” she scoffed. “You come here uninvited and give me some spur-of-the-moment apology and then suddenly everything is normal again?” She stepped forward, so furious that steam may as well have been radiating off of her skin. “I am so sorry that you’re frustrated,” she continued, sarcasm practically stinging her lips as the words came out, “but I don’t care what you want, Shawn. You are not going to show up at my doorstep and start feeding me all this crap about how you missed me and how beautiful I am and how sorry you are!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, hot tears betraying her as they finally began to roll down her cheeks. “I waited for you. I knew you weren’t going to call, I knew you weren’t coming, and I still waited for you like an idiot.”

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. It took everything in him to resist the urge to wipe her tears away, or hug her, or to touch her at all and offer any small form of comfort that he could.

“It’s a little late for that,” she bit back, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her left hand. “I’ve spent the past six months crying over you. You don’t get to make me all worked up like this and then tell me to stop crying like you’re not the reason why I’m like this in the first place.”

“Then we don’t have to talk about this right now, let’s find something else.” Y/N looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, her mind equally as confused as her heart. “We can go get coffee, or--”

“I really don’t think--”

“Just trust me,” he said softly, finally finding the courage to gingerly place his hands on her shoulders. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I have coffee here,” Y/N answered after a silence long enough to make Shawn even more nervous, and he wasn’t sure what she meant until she moved aside to allow him room to come through the doorway. 

She stepped over to the kitchen and reached for her Keurig, Shawn hot on her heels. “Let me do it,” he said, gently reaching to take the supplies from her hands.

“Fine,” she sighed. She didn’t have the energy left to fight him. “The mugs are in the same place as always.”

He nodded as Y/N made her way over to the couch, her brain screaming what are you doing at her as though it would weaken its disconnect from the rest of her body. Logic reminded Y/N that she didn’t owe Shawn her kindness, her time, or her forgiveness for what he had done to her. Logic told her Shawn shouldn’t be there. Her heart didn’t care. 

“How’s your internship?” he asked with an outstretched arm, offering Y/N a coffee cup and effectively tearing her from her thoughts. She eyed him carefully as he moved to sit clear on the other side of the couch, an awkward distance between the two.

Y/N pretended to ignore the almost palpable awkwardness in the room. Am I really about to sit here and make small talk with him? “It ended a few months ago. The company gave me a full-time job, though.”

“That’s amazing,” he said, and he meant it. “How is it?”

There was a slight upturn in her lips. “I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted and my coworkers are all awesome.”

He smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Seriously.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee and fighting off the voice in her head reminding her of how painfully uncomfortable this all was. “Um, how was the rest of tour?”

He shrugged, knowingly avoiding a rerun of the conversation they’d already had. “It was really great. I’m lucky.”

“Good,” she replied. It took everything she had to keep her voice level and dry of emotion. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Are you, like, seeing anyone?” he blurted, no longer able to refrain from asking it.

She looked up, a smile nudging at her lips as she found herself suddenly amused. “Why do you ask that?”

“I dunno,” he responded sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. “I’ve just, y’know, seen pictures and stuff.”

“So you’re stalking me on social media now?” she asked, but it didn’t sound like a question--more like an observation. 

“No,” he rushed out, wide-eyed. “Not at all stalking you, no. Your photos just come up in my feed sometimes and I see...things.”

She hummed, deciding not to dwell on the motivation behind his question any longer. “If you really want to know, I’ve tried,” she admitted bitterly. “But no one that I meet really compares to you, so it’s sort of hard.”

“I get it.”

She looked at him, her expression perplexed but challenging. “You’re constantly surrounded by celebrities and girls from all over the world. It’s different for you.”

“So what? None of them compare to you, either. I thought about you all the time on tour. No one else.”

She quirked an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue, which he did after a deep breath. “Being in a different time zone almost every night starts to make me feel like I’m kind of just floating. Having the routine of playing shows helps, don’t get me wrong, and I love touring. You know that. But the only thing that anchored me through all that was knowing what time it was in L.A. and imagining what you were doing.”

Y/N was silent, her lips slightly parted as she tried to digest his words, but the discomfort that came with the silence caused Shawn to begin rambling. “I didn’t really care what time it was where I was, because that changed constantly. It didn’t matter. I only cared what time it was in relation to where you were because it was steadying, or something, I don’t know. Basically, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I always had you in the back of my mind.”

“Did you still do that even after we…?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I mean...no matter what happens, I’ll always care about you and think about what you’re doing. We’ll always be tied to each other somehow.”

“I wish I could’ve gone with you,” Y/N blurted out suddenly, surprising even herself. They stared at each other, the wide-eyed expression plastered on Shawn’s face essentially a reflection of Y/N’s. “Things would be so different now if I could’ve gone.”

“Different how?” Shawn stammered, though he already knew the answer. He was just desperate to hear her next words.

“Don’t know,” she muttered, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on one of the couch cushions. “Like it was before you left and all this happened.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t get back to that point, though.”

“No, but it’s certainly gonna be a hell of a lot more difficult if I even…” She trailed off, and Shawn swallowed hard. If I even want this. “Nevermind. I just wish I could’ve gone on tour with you because then I wouldn’t have to be dealing with this right now.” It was a harsher-sounding reality than was the truth of her feelings, but she couldn’t take the words back. And, to be fair, Shawn deserved nothing but harsh words from her, though it wasn’t what she wanted to give him. The more time she spent with him, the harder it was for her to fight the feelings that she’d known were still very much there for the past six months.

“But then you wouldn’t have had your internship.”

“Yeah, I know, Shawn,” she snapped. “That’s why I didn’t go and that’s why we’re here. God forbid I choose my career.”

“That’s not what I--”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m just--I don’t even know. That was unnecessary.”

“It’s okay,” Shawn answered, but only because he didn’t know what else to say. She was in no position to be apologizing to him, and he knew that. He deserved every harsh thing she had to say to him.

“Can I be honest with you?” he continued, suddenly more nervous than he had been the entire time. Y/N nodded.

“The real reason I came here is because I can’t lose you forever. Six months was hard enough. I just wanted to apologize and tell you how I feel. How I still feel.”

She scrubbed a hand over her forehead, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to process the whirlwind of thoughts littering her brain. “You never lost me, Shawn,” she whispered, eyes still closed because she was too nervous to look at him. “Just distanced yourself.”

“And I’m sorry for that, truly,” he said quietly. “I wish I could take it all back.”

Y/N looked at him, trying to decipher her own feelings. “I’m glad you came,” she finally admitted. “I needed this. Even though I yelled at you, like, basically the entire time.”

He let out a quiet laugh, not taking his eyes off of her. “I deserved it,” he admitted. “I probably deserved worse, if anything.”

She grinned. She knew how she could be when her emotions took over. “How long are you here for?”

“We’ve got a house booked for a few weeks to work on new music, but my schedule’s free for a bit after that. No reason why I couldn’t stay here a little longer if, you know...”

“It depends,” she cut in. She wasn’t one to sugar coat things. “If these first few weeks go okay, then I’d like that. But it depends on that.”

Shawn nodded and became painfully aware of his heart suddenly pounding out of his chest, grateful to be given any chance at all to win Y/N back, though he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how anxious the thought of messing up again made him.

“Can we just take things one day at a time?” she continued, looking up at him with an almost nervous expression. “Is that okay? I’m gonna need a little more time than you, probably.”

He smiled. Anything she’d give him, he would gladly take. “Of course,” he echoed, moving next to her and carefully wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He swore he’d faint when he felt her head softly lean to rest on his shoulder. “One day at a time, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

Thank you for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated :)

permanent taglist: @nedthegay @wronglanemendes @the-fandom-ness

[writingssummit]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚.

𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

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𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘵.  

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.8𝘬  

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ! 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘶 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘪 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 ! 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘥𝘢 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵, "𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵". 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘭. 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘰3? 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘶- 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘣𝘤 𝘳𝘯 𝘪’𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢- 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯 :𝘋

like any other day, you’re sitting at the counter, twisting the straw wrapper between your thumb and index finger while reading over something on your laptop. the homey diner is quiet today, which is unusual for the place; it’s not often that the place isn’t super busy. but you welcome the quiet with open arms, since you’re actually trying to focus for once. work has been piling up in class lately, and it was sort of hard to keep up with. but these things came with college, so..could you really complain?

you’re a regular at the diner, you stopped keeping track a while ago, considering that you go so often. it’s a comfy spot, many locals come as well. so why find a reason, aside from the fact that the place has a really good homemade cherry coke? aside from the busy atmosphere it usually held, it’s also nice to just come here and work on your papers, your research-

you slide over a few dollars as compensation, and not soon after, a glass slides back over to you in return. “hey, careful! i can’t afford to buy another computer, you know!” you frown in the direction where it came from.

“right, my bad.” your silver-haired server leans on his side of the counter, a cheeky grin on his face. you take a sip, looking straight back. 

“why are you staring at me like that, bokuto-san?” you bite the straw. the man is always around and making jokes, smiling, and attempting to make you laugh- but the look he’s wearing is reserved for certain reasons, or future events. and that didn’t sit well with you.

“no reason, no reason.” he taps the wood with his knuckles, his gaze unfaltering. and to be honest, now it looks a bit foreboding. you don’t like it.

“i smell bullshit.” you point a finger at the cheerful man, and he raises his hands up in defense. 

“i told you, it’s nothing, yeah? say, how long are you staying today?” you chose to ignore his blatant attempt at a topic change. you check the time on the clock, pursing your lips in thought. how long could you stay? you aren’t in any particular hurry, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have other things to do. 

not that you’ll actually leave to do them.

“mm, probably a little longer. not too late though, i need to go home at some point.” you mutter, and then turn your attention back to the screen. you notice something inconsistent in your writing, and then rush to fix it. all you can hear is the clacking of the keyboard, and the faint sizzling and bangs in the kitchen. 

his grin widens out of the corner of your eye. “the boss wants to ask you something.” you don’t even hesitate when you shake your head. nope. you were not up for that today. or ever, really.

“no. no way. i already told him before, and the time before that, the time before that- how many times do i need to say it?” you snap, and then you both hear a clash in the back.

“i’m okay!” you hear matsukawa, the cook, a moment after. you and bokuto share a quick look, before he pushed himself away from the counter.

“he better not have spilled shit again, or akaashi will get upset- hold that thought, l/n!” and before you could even reply, he sped towards the kitchen.

your life could be considered a boring one, if you took out the visits to the american-inspired restaurant. you didn’t hate it, really. it was simple, and that was fine. you went to classes, worked hard to earn your degree; you were majoring in mathematics, with a goal to get a job as an astronomer.

a big dream, one that you know is difficult- but even if it was going to be worthless, with the amount of years you plan on putting into school? you’ll be just fine, as long as there is somebody who’d hire you with your future creds. at the expense of enough freetime, but that was just the price to pay. 

but you often spent as much time as humanly possible here, because it took some stress off of your shoulders. if you were going to spend most of your week studying and working, at least you could do it in a place you liked. which in turn led to you learning a lot about the establishment and people inside it. it’s fairly new, and the owner happened to be absent from the building a lot; but he worked hard. he’d apparently gone to college in the united states. hence the american styled food, theme, all of it. 

it was strange compared to all of the other little shops around, but it was unique that way.

and of course, you all were decently close, but it’s not like you knew any of them prior to coming here. it was really just because you were there so much, that you were able to build friendships with the workers.

bokuto being the first and most rambunctious of them all. he was almost always behind the counter, chatting up the guests, which includes you very often. but that’s the fun part of it all, it makes your stays interesting.

“oi, what’s going on!” the office door suddenly swooshed open, followed by a string of curses in the kitchen. out came their manager, the resident pretty boy of the group, as the rest dubbed him. you couldn’t help but laugh quietly as he makes his way to the back. they were in for a scolding.

“akaashi, this isn’t what it looks like, we were just-”

“bokuto-san, this is the 3rd time this week..”

there’s more bickering for a few minutes, and you just went back to sipping at your drink. you’re bored now, with nobody to really talk to; and the noise from the kitchen was making it hard to concentrate suddenly.

the bell suddenly dings behind you, and you turn your head a little to get a better view-

only to groan under your breath.

“l/n-chan, you’re here! good, i wanted to ask..” you want to bang your head on the table. repeatedly.

“oikawa, i say this as respectfully as possible, but please, i don’t want to be set up right now. or ever. especially if it’s you doing it.”

“you’ll say yes this time, please just hear me out!” he begs, grabbing your shoulders. if this hadn’t been the thousandth time he’s said this, you would’ve laughed. but only a little. you attempt to shrug his hands off of you, but without success. his grip is a bit too strong.

oikawa, the manager, has designated himself as the godly matchmaker. apparently, he was able to help out some of his friends with their things. but that wasn’t anything to brag about, if he had no proof. much less dub himself with such a title.

you gave oikawa the stink eye, while he just stuck his lip out in a pout.

“get me another, and i’ll hear you out.” you gave into his puppy face. he knew just how to get you, the bastard. letting go of you finally, he takes the glass with a hum to the other side of the counter.

“perfect! okay, so..this time, he’s a piercer-” he looks up as he’s filling the cup with some grenadine syrup. he knows exactly how much you like in it at this point. you’re watching him, but when he mentions the piercings, you just stare at him with a blank look. “..don’t give me that look.” he scowls.

“my look isn’t hurting you.” you respond simply, and he rolls his eyes, but clears his throat to continue. he’s now moving on to the coke part.

“he’s a piercer, and oh holy lord, he has some himself-”

“oh my god.” this guy is ridiculous. “i don’t care about that, just keep going or i won’t listen anymore.”

“you hurt me a lot, why do i even try to set you up?” he grumbled. “anyways. mr. tongue piercing is pretty eager to date right now, i gave him a little description of you..and he’s interested!” you raise an eyebrow. “look, just one date! if he’s an ass, i’ll get iwa-chan to beat the shit out of him if it’s necessary.” 

that’s comforting, to an extent. you didn’t know how you felt about a guy you barely knew coming down to his restaurant just to punch another random guy, but it’s the thought that counts, you guess. oikawa just wants you to be happy, and liven you up more- because as he says, you don’t do much besides study, and hang out at the diner. you don’t have anybody else to be around either, so that kind of just enforces the routine. not that you don’t have the opportunity to meet anybody, you just don’t want to.

and so he tries to make you.

“because we won’t be young for long!” a normal oikawa saying.

to be honest, the idea of seeing somebody is nice. you’ve thought about it before, but you honestly couldn’t care less right now- and the fact that you’re so busy with classes just makes it inconvenient. and the thought of unrooting the routine you’d gotten so accustomed to? it made you nervous. as much as you were lonely regarding the relationship aspect of your life, you didn’t know how you felt about being set up with a guy right now.

but, maybe you should at least try to be out there more. especially if it’ll get oikawa off your ass about it.

“maybe.” you finally say, which earns you a cheer, and a new glass of cherry coke.

there’s another crash.

“i guess that’s my cue to go straighten those three up, hm?~” he chuckles, but it doesn’t sound too amused. and then, oikawa joins them. 

you take this as your time to depart too. you end up leaving a tip, and a half-finished glass behind you. oikawa better at least text you what he looks like, because he hadn’t even bothered to tell you anything besides the fact that he has a tongue piercing. and there’s no way you’ll totally agree without knowing a bit more than a piece of metal in somebody’s skin.

is that really attractive? you don’t want to think about it, in case you actually do think it is.

why is that even a thought in the first place? you scold yourself in your head, trying to not delve into it any more than you need to.

your phone dings, and you reach down to check who texted. 

𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖: 𝚘𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊   𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 ~

you have half the mind to not show up now.

[slasherkisss]

CABIN FEVER - JASON VOORHEES X READER [CHAPTER 7]

Summary In an effort to remove yourself from your previous life in the big city, you move to Crystal Lake. The cabin you had inherited from your father makes the perfect place for a fresh start, however, there is a secret in these woods (and within yourself) that you must come to accept…and to love.

A/N You’d think I’d be able to write more of this in my freetime but, you know what, we work with what we got here. There’s no smut in this chapter, sorry, but lots of murder and tender fluff to make up for it!

——————————————————————————————

The next two to three days of your existence was relatively unbothered, save for your constant paranoia of the escaping victim.

Every night you swore you could hear footsteps, not yours or Jason’s as the two of you rested in the same bed, and it sent you sitting up in a blind panic as you stared into the empty nothingness of the darkness that enveloped you. Some nights you stood to pace around the house, checking windows and watching over your shoulder in case the figures of people you didn’t recognize snuck behind you. They brushed your shoulder and whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps up your entire body as you incessantly cleaned the house, the phantom stains of blood spots from Jason’s previous murders singing to your paranoia like beacons of sin.

Multiple times Jason stopped you, his hands around your body to pull you close to him and simply hold you back from moving. His grip was so strong that you had no choice but to sit in his arms and calm yourself, matching your breathing with his own as he nuzzled the back of your neck and tugged at you with something, you supposed, was akin to worry. There was guilt in letting your emotions fog you to your boyfriend’s own, but making it up to him with long, languid kisses to his cock seemed to work for the most part as he, too, tried to ease your mind with thick fingers and moans that shook the whole cabin late at night.

You seemed normal enough on your third day in the aftermath of death, going into the garden to tend to your ever-budding crops while Jason left out on patrol around the lake. Though he was reluctant to do so at first, you insisted that you were fine with it. His home was your home, after all, and it was important to the both of you that it remain protected and safe, lest someone discover your home. Lest someone discover the two of you together.

Despite its dangers, the thought made you smile. Oh, how loudly your parents would protest if they saw your current choice in companionship. Oh how the curses would fall from their lips alongside their preacher as they would try (and fail) to drag you home.

Home… No, that place you had left wasn’t home. It never was, was it?

This was your home now.

It was a comforting thing, you realized as you knelt into the dirt and began to dig up a few of the weeds that had dared make their home in the fertilized soil of your potato crop. The trowel you used bit into the earth with ease, its stainless steel edges growing momentarily matte from the dust of the dirt you pushed it through with practiced ease. You pulled each weed with careful precision before placing it to the side, taking a breath as your small pile of invasive plants began to grow larger and larger.

You wondered if you could find a book on natural weed killers and put some in your garden. It would make all of these a lot easier.

Making a mental note of such a thing you stood, wiping the small layer of sweat from your brow as you took a deep breath, feeling the pleasant warmth in your muscles from the day’s work as you kicked around some of the soil to cover the holes you had created before gathering up the weed and moving them to the compost pile you had slowly been accumulating in one of the spots behind your home, neatly covering it with the worms and dead fruit that hung in the same space with a satisfied nod.

Returning to the front of your house, you could only freeze as white hot terror rushed over your entire form.

The woman that was just beyond your fence was familiar, though far more ragged than you had remembered her to be when you had first seen her escape three days ago.  

She stood there on the other side of your fence and you could feel your heartbeat still as your eyes met. Your lungs suddenly stopped working and breathing became more and more difficult as the two of you gazed at one another from the mutual safeties of your fence sides. Of all the things to happen, you realized with a dawning grimness in the base of your mind, this was likely one of the worst possible things. You felt it in the way your body trembled and the way your mind went blank as the two of you stood in the discomforting silence of the world around you. The only echo of sound that dared hum across the tense atmosphere was the thrum of cicadas high up in their trees as they chirped on, unaware of the events unfolding beneath their safe haven.

The woman was still caked in mud, the same clothes on her as the day you had watched her escape Jason’s wrath. She must not have been able to get out of the forest on her own, you realized with somewhat of a smugness to your thoughts. She must have relied on those men who fell so easily at Jason’s hands, unaware that Crystal Lake was much larger than others had given it credit for. You could imagine her, starving and shivering in the cold of the night before spotting your cabin in the rising sun, thanking God as she ran towards it in hopes that she would be able to find some sort of respite and rescue amongst good natured, friendly people-

Only to find you.

You.

She knew where you lived.

As if she also realized that same thing, the woman turned around and began to sprint in the opposite direction, her breaths coming in shaky and terrified gasps. You watched in shock for a few minutes, your eyes widening as your hand tightened against the trowel you held in your vice grip. Your heartbeat pounded in your ear and your mind screamed at you in the fiercest voice you think you have ever heard it muster.

Run, run, run! She’s running. Go after her. It’s bad. She’s bad! She’ll take him away. She’ll take you away from him and then what?

And then what?

You didn’t need to hear anymore from yourself before you hopped the fence and sprinted after her.

The trees were a blur around you as you pushed passed them, your breath coming in sharp and succinct pants the faster you pushed yourself. Your boot clad toes hit the forest floor and pushed yourself off of it with as much momentum as you could muster and, oh, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you chased after your target. You had the advantage of functionality when it came to outfits, you realized with a moderate source of hope as you began to catch up to the hobbling form out before you. Though her feet were bare, her outfit was a tight skirt and thin tank top that left gashes on her skin as her flesh hit the whipping whirlwind of trees and the biting forest floor cut the edges of her ankles with warning nips, slowing her down for you. Easing her into your trap of movement.

The forest was on your side.

This was proven even more accurate when you saw her trip in front of you, her foot catching between rocks and bending with a sickening crack in the completely wrong direction. It sent bone jutting out from her skin and ankle and caused her to scream, long and loud and desperate, against the blue of the sky in the clearing. There was a mixture of agony and terror deep in the hum of her vocal chords as she attempted to crawl away from the area, even with the shattered bone against her body. Adrenaline and fear pumped in her veins and in yours as you continued to move forward.

You didn’t stop running. You didn’t allow yourself to catch your breath before you descended upon her with your trowel in hand.

Atop her torso, you pinned her arms on either side of her body with your thighs, feeling the way she squirmed and wiggled under you like a maggot as begging, desperate pleas left her mouth in nonsensical babbles.

“Please,” She drooled as she spoke, tears streaming down her face, “I won’t tell-I won’t tell anyone I promise-I promise, I promise I’ll be good I won’t tell a soul about any of this of any of anything not at all! Just please, please don’t kill me please I promise I’ll be good I swea-!”

You cut her off by raising your trowel, gripping it tight in both hands before bringing the steel down into the base of her skull with as much force as you could muster.

Her scream cut off with an even worse sounding squelch.

Blood blossomed from the spot in her forehead where you had sunk your gardening tool into her. The skull of the woman gave more resistance than you were expecting, making you have to wiggle the dull steel into her brain further, watching as parts of bone began to splinter and stick out against the edges of her forehead. There was something of fascination in your eyes as you withdrew the piece of metal and plunged it back in, the initial hole in her cranium helping the item to dig further through her membrane and deep, deep into the grey matter of her mind. The squishing noises accompanied by the gurgles that left her half open mouth as it filled up with blood was near pornographic, making you shudder as you pulled your trowel out a second time and stabbed her again.

And again and again and again and again and again…

Her head was a pulp by the time you decided to stop, your breathing heavy in your throat as you tried to swallow the oncoming trail of vomit that dared push itself greedily to the pit of your stomach. Your hands were stained shades of crimson and gray, bits of skull matter clinging to your fingertips as your pants soaked up the messy, wet dribblings of your victim. Blood pooled out of her nose and mouth, some even spilling from her ears but a majority of it echoing from the gaping hole in the center of her head. She looked, you thought, like a jack-o-lantern someone kicked in on the side of a porch. Only the seeds and guts were replaced with brains and skull as you reached out with one hand, deftly poking at the material.

That was when you actually threw up, the texture sending your stomach spiraling into the distance as you turned your head and allowed yourself to be relieved of your morning’s breakfast.

The scent of vomit and blood combined with the slow rot of the forest around you did little to quell your stomach after you had emptied it. Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you winced as the wetness of smeared blood pressed itself bitingly to your cheeks. You must have looked like a vampire now, you thought with a dull laugh, having fed on a poor, innocent victim. Having used her form as nourishment.

No, you thought as you looked down at the body beneath you with another ragged breath, she wouldn’t have given you any nourishment if you had eaten her.

She was doomed to die like this from the start. From the moment she ran from Jason and into the woods, she was destined to be consumed by them once again. Crystal Lake did not let any of its victims leave once it had decided to claim them.

You felt it then, the slow and steady breathing of the ground beneath you. As if the earth was rising and falling with even movements. You inhaled sharply, pressing your hand into the ground and feeling the shifting movements. Up and down… as though it was resting. Sleeping beneath you as it drank up the offering you had given it, tendrils and mushrooms biting greedily into the flesh in order to eat all the nutrients it could muster.

There was a rustle of wind and you shuddered at it, the trees shaking and groaning as though thanking you for the meal.

You smiled.

Standing up, you walked back to your cabin with uneasy steps in the direction you had ran, the trail of your chase easy to see and easier still to retrace. Still, you remembered the direction you had left the corpse in as you tripped over your own feet several times in your efforts to get back to your home. Shovel, you decided with low desperation, you needed a shovel. To dig a hole six feet under ground and give the earth back what she needed from you.

Give her to it, that sweet little voice in your head laughed as your cabin came into view, the forest needs fertilizer, after all. How else will you raise your crops? Keep your supplies fertile? Give her to it, Y/N, it’ll be alright.

You let out a shaky sigh with a smile despite yourself. Yeah, that was what you would do.

You were almost surprised to see Jason at the front of your house, sitting patiently on the steps and twiddling his thumbs idly as though thinking. You had told him many times that he was welcome into your house, even when you weren’t there, but he didn’t seem to find it ‘polite’. That or he simply didn’t want to be in the house without you, since you were the only reason he visited it at all anymore. Both thoughts made your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t help but smile despite the pain in your sore body and the blood still dribbling from your form.

“Jason!” Your voice came out much more clear than you thought it ever capable of in such a situation and you couldn’t help but be proud of yourself.

At your echo Jason stood up, moving quicker than you had ever seen him move towards you. There was a pause in his body language and you could see moderate panic shine behind that mask of his as his hands were waving around, frantically signing at you with a speed you could barely keep up with. Messy and panicked as they were, you were able to comprehend them enough to understand what he was asking of you as his face checked you over, inch by inch, still signing over and over again:

‘Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?’

“Jason, Jason-” You tried to shush him, stopping his movements by reaching out to grab his face in your smaller hands and pull him down so that he was eye level with you. Being so close to your blood splattered face, feeling the way the wet of the blood smeared across his mask and clothes the closer you drew to him. The sight of you, so red and warm, made his chest rise and fall with equal parts worry and arousal. Biting your lip, you found your voice enough to continue:

“I-I’m fine, Jay… I… That woman who got away the other time she… I chased her and… i didn’t want to let her escape so I… We need a shovel!”

As if to remember what you had come in there for, you ran off and away from your boyfriend in favor of entering your home, leaving parts of the doorknobs and floors bloodstained in your wake and a confused Jason staring at the spot where you once were. Slowly standing up, the behemoth of a man could only follow behind you as he watched you scramble around your house with desperation, looking for the shovel you had bought to do yard work. You knew you bought one, anyways. At the very least you BROUGHT one at some point here. Didn’t you? Or did you dream it? Your mind was a whirlwind of memories mixed with hallucinations as you pushed yourself forward. Moved yourself faster. Begged yourself to keep going and going and going and-

Jason’s hand touched your own, resting over it and holding you down with one of the firmest grips he had managed on you.

You took long, shaky breaths as you looked at him and then at your house. You found it both annoying and amusing to see just how many blood stains you had left in your wake, the scent all but permeating your home as it soaked into the wood of the cabin. You had just cleaned the blood up from the last time you and Jason had entered as well, you huffed to your own mind, of course it’d just be fate that you’d get even more on it than before. It would be hell to clean up.

A sudden exhaustion overtook your mind as you slumped forward, leaving Jason to catch you in his arms as you let out a long, tired sigh and shut your eyes tight, trembling in his grip as he helped you to the floor to sit on it. The wood was suddenly too cold and too hot all at once as your fingertips slid across its textured surface with aimless disinterest, your eyes blurring with something between tears and adrenaline as you found your breaths coming slower and slower, as though you were trying to stop breathing all together.

You sat like that for… well… you didn’t know how long you sat like that. With Jason at your side, cross legged in front of you as his hand gently rubbed at your legs and shoulders, tilting his head to observe you without saying a word. The silence was nearly oppressive for the both of you and you could all but hear his breathing through his mask. Did he need to breathe? You wondered just that for longer than you should have before you were, suddenly, moved. Suddenly shifted in a way that made you startled.

Jason had you in his arms now, carrying you as carefully as he could up the stairs of your home and into the master bathroom that housed itself neatly alongside our bedroom. You barely registered the movements as anything other than events outside your own body, as though you were looking down at yourself being lifted up by the man at your side. You were placed in the tub as carefully as he could manage and you watched yourself adjust awkwardly in your clothes as you lay there, stunned into something of a dissociation by the status of the world that you seemed to vaguely inhabit.

You came back to your own body when the water hit you.

You gasped, startling slightly into a sitting position as your hands gripped the edges of the tub. You looked up to see Jason fiddling unsurely with the handles of the water, shifting it from hot to cold at an insanely unpleasant pace that sent chills down your spine as the water soaked your bloodstained clothes and sent swirls of light pink and dirt dribbling down your drain like spit at the dentist’s office. You shuddered and reached out, shakily, to push his hands away as carefully as you could and adjust the water temperature for yourself. Jason simply watched you, allowing it.

Once the water was an acceptable temperature, he returned to your side. Massive hands slid up your body and removed your clothing bit by bit. Your hiking boots fell from your feet along with your socks, soon moving along to your bloody, ripped pants and eventually to your top, your underwear sliding off and into the pile of clothes Jason had amassed and leaving you naked in the slowly filling tub of water that soaked into your core as you curled yourself into a ball and sat there, staring forward in shock.

One the tub was filled Jason turned it off, his hands reaching out with a wash cloth to hand to you in an awkward unsureness of if you needed it or not. It was only then that you became hyper aware of the itchy patches of dried blood and viscera coating the remainder of your skin. Though your clothing had managed to catch much of it, the feeling was still there that you were soiled. Dirty and ragged with the urge to dump bleach on yourself to rid your skin of its sudden imperfections.

Grabbing the cloth, you scrubbed it on your body until your skin felt hot and red and raw with friction. Until spots on your form were no longer covered in brains and bits of skull and you tried, desperately, to rid yourself even of the skin they touched. You had to get clean, you thought with hungry worry in your mind, you had to rid yourself of all of this.

Go away, go away, go away, go away-

A hand stopped you before you could rub your skin clean off, forcefully ripping the cloth from you and putting a hand on your arm to stop you from thrashing to reach out and grab it. When you looked up, all you saw was Jason’s sharp glare from beneath his mask and that, alone, stilled you with surprise. He had never looked at you before in such a threatening way. It made you wonder if you truly had fucked up in one way or another… or was he just worried about you?

You stayed still the rest of the bath. Until the tub was drained and Jason pulled you from the water and wrapped you in a towel, drying you off with rough grips of his hands to your skin that sent shivers down your spine as you clung to him through it all. You couldn’t say when he had picked you up again and moved you to your bed, the sheets soft under your bare skin as he removed the towel, but you were there suddenly and you shifted with a sudden exhaustion in your bones as you sighed.

You looked up at Jason, who stood by the edge of the bed looking down at you.

You lifted your hands up to weakly sign:

‘Are you mad at me?’

He took a long moment to return the question with his own signed answer:

‘No.’

‘Then why did you look at me like that?’

‘Worried.’

‘... She’s dead’

‘I know.’

‘I need to clean what I started.’

‘No. I’ll do it.’

You opened your mouth to protest with your words this time, hands suddenly too heavy to sign with your boyfriend as you let protests rise in your throat. This wasn’t his problem. This was something you had done. You had stabbed her in the head. You had killed her.

Oh god you had killed her.

Jason leaned forward, his mask pressing to your face. The semblance of a kiss where his lips might have been. Your eyes grew more heavy with the comfort, feeling his hands push themselves on you as gently as they could, feeling you and comforting you with his presence before pulling away. Jason’s fingertips flew in the slow and steady movements of signs he had practiced.

‘I love you. I’ll do it.’

The last thing you saw before you gave into the closing of your eyes and the sleepiness of your body was Jason leaving the room, his shoulders squared with determination and the lingering scent of blood and lake water shaking itself through your entire room before it all went black.

[colourful-void]

Hope’s Peak AU General Outfit Headcanons

It’s more au!!!!!! I was really tired while writing this and it probably shows. If I missed anyone lemme know! I think I missed someone from v3 but I'm not sure who. If people are interested in the dr3 characters beyond Ryouta, I can add on to this post. Lemme know!

As a general rule, any special events that require uniforms (graduation, entrance ceremony, etc) will have most students wearing uniforms. It’s important to note that while Hope’s Peak has a uniform (the same ones seen in the dr3 anime) there is no dress code. You can buy a uniform in the school store, but they aren’t at all mandatory, and so Hope’s Peak Students can wear Literally Whatever They Want. So you don’t have to wear the uniform for your agab, you can wear a halloween costume everyday, pj’s everyday, really the only rule is that if you would get arrested for wearing it on the street, you probably shouldn’t be wearing it here, and you need to be wearing something.  

(I’ll also mention free time a bunch in this post, which is just whenever the students aren’t in class. I’ll explain the daytime/nighttime and class time/ free time schedule in a later post)

Long post, so details on each character underneath the cut! =)

[Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc]

Makoto: wears his outfit from THH, but the pants are the uniform and the jacket is the uniform. during free time he’s just in hoodies in jackets. He gets cold easy.

Sayaka: wears the uniform, she thinks it’s cute. Has hair clips/hairbands to accessorize. wears cute and trendy clothes!

Leon: doesn’t wear the uniform. Wears whatever was closest lying on the floor. 

Chihiro: wears the uniform, but sometimes with her in game skirt instead of the uniform skirt. some of the other girls took her shopping for dresses and skirts and she loves all those outfits and wears them all the time! =)

Mondo: wears the uniform, but not the tie, and has his shirt unbuttoned in that delinquent way most of the time. Sometimes Taka will through a tie on him, though loosely tied. (Mondo doesn’t like things restraining his neck)

Kiyotaka: are you kidding he wears the uniform religiously. He’s never seen in anything else. Even after class hours, on weekends, over break, he’s wearing it. Some of the under (and upper) classmen wonder if he even owns other clothes. 

Hifumi: owns a uniform. Usually wears it, but sometimes he just comes in pyjama’s. 

Celeste: never. She’s not even wearing it in the pictures from THH, she’s probably never even touched a uniform. She’s committed to the aesthetic. dresses all the time.

Sakura: wears it everyday, but only during school hours. wears stretchy workout clothes normally. 

Mukuro: wears the uniform, though she’s modified it so the neck is looser, and there are lots of hidden pockets for weapons. She also made her skirt longer. she also has a bulletproof vest she wears both during and after classes. shes got leggings with hidden pockets. 

Junko: also wears a modified uniform, with extra pockets, and a shorter skirt. She also has her tie from THH, and her THH skirt. Keeps her Monokuma Hairclips.

Aoi: More likely to be wearing her gym uniform or other work out clothes with the hope’s peak logo on them than the actual uniform, but staff will take what they can get.

Hagakure: doesn’t wear it.

Touko: wears the uniform, but Syo doesn’t. Syo just wears whatever, so if she’s in control when getting dressed, she’ll probably just wear whatever she can find. She doesn’t care if its clean, ripped, etc.

Byakuya: The Great Byakuya Togami has better quality clothes than the hope’s peak uniform, but will wear it when requested by Makoto, or at any school events where he wants to look part of the class or something. (School fair, stuff like that)

Kyouko: wears the uniform. It makes her dad happy.

[Ultra Despair Girls]

Komaru: Doesn’t go to Hope’s Peak, but wears the uniform for her own school.

All the warriors do not wear uniforms. I don’t think that Hope’s Peak Elementary has a uniform. They wear their in game things. Except Jataro, who wears an allergy face mask instead of his in game mask. 

[Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair]

Hajime: Wears the Uniform, though usually not the jacket. He’ll keep it with him, but hang it on chairs or something. If he’s wearing the jacket either Izuru is in control, Hajime is cold, or he’s at a formal event.

Imposter: they’ll follow the outfit choices including uniform of whoever they’re impersonating, they are Dedicated. 

Teruteru: doesn’t wear the uniform. Is always wearing a chef’s outfit. He didn’t wear it in dr3, he won’t wear it here.

Koizumi: Wears the uniform during class hours, wears simple dresses and overalls during freetime.

Peko: wears her uniform most of the time, though does own and wear casual clothes. She’ll usually wear those around her own room though, and she has little dresses she’ll wear on outings or on dates

Ibuki: it’s debated if Ibuki even owns a Hope’s Peak uniform. She’ll wear whatever she feels like, which means you may see her in a full suit, a ballgown, a tracksuit, her gym uniform, or a uniform for a school thats she’s never been to, and you can never tell what it may be. She is pretty fond of neon colours though, so typically she’s wearing really bright colours and casual clothes. She also ties her hair up different constantly, with no rhyme or reason other than ‘she felt like it’. She looks like Haruhi in that one opening scene to The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzimiya.

Hiyoko: shes still wearing kimonos and she still cant tie them

Mikan: she wears the uniform most of the time, and casual clothes when it’s not class time. Her uniform has been modified for her by Tsumugi, to make the skirt longer. Her casual clothes are nice skirts, leggings and long sleeved shirts.

Nekomaru: He wears the uniform most of the time, and track suits/ his in game clothes during free times.

Gundham: wears the uniform during school hours, and his in game clothes during free time. However, he always has his scarf and arm wrap.

Komaeda: wears the uniform, but has his little sweater vest thing. Basically what he looked like in 2.5. His hair has a touch more colour to it though, and there’s brown starting to come in at the roots by his 3rd year. During free time he wears his jacket from the game.

Chiaki: same clothes as dr3 during classes. Will wear anime graphic tees and hoodies when she’s not in class.

Fuyuhiko: Guess what it’s his vest from 2.5, I’m sorry it’s getting repetitive but canon did alright with outfits in some places and I’m not gonna fix whats not broken.

Sonia: Sonia loves the hope’s peak uniform. She wears it often, but she does have some casual dresses for when shes not in class. A note I will make, Sonia is way more practical about her hair in this au because I refuse to believe that someone like Sonia would have hair that long and not tie it up. She wears high ponytails and her braid crown from the game, and is happy to try different hair styles, such as braids or buns.

Souda: “wow souda, how come your mom lets you have two jumpsuits?” also teeshirts and basketball shorts.

Akane: wears the uniform, but also gym clothes on the regular. sometimes she wears oversized teeshirts, and general work out clothes.

(Im putting Ryota here because I’m lazy)

Ryota: wears the uniform during class, and oversized hoodies when class is over.

[New Danganronpa V3: Everyone’s New Semester of Killing]

Shuuichi: wears the uniform. He also has his hat. He wore it a lot in first year, and slowly grew to wear it less. Now he wears it sometimes, but not always! When he feels like it. 

Rantaro: wears the uniform, and his normal clothes when school hours are over. He’s got a laid back style of dress that matches his personality 

Kaede: she wears the uniform and she’s very happy about it! Her casual clothes look like a uniform, they’re very preppy. Sweater vests and pleated skirts.

Hoshi: wears the uniform but replaced the normal jacket with his leather one, and his in game clothes when he’s not in class.

Kirumi: she’s wearing the uniform the majority of the time, even when class is over, since it makes her more recognizable to the other students. She keeps the gloves though. Students are Messy.

Angie: Ok previously I said she didn’t wear the uniform, but then I started drawing her in the uniform and I changed my mind. She wears her raincoat instead of the jacket and ties off the end of her shirt to show her stomach, like Brittney Spears. She has no clue who Brittney is, she just tied it like that to show off her piercings. Keeps the uniform skirt, has art supplies tucked into every pocket she’s got.

Tenko: wears the boys uniform actually! All uniforms offer equal mobility and she likes that uniform better. The dress code is like non existent, so no one cares. When she’s not in class, she might wear skirts or pants, she doesn’t really care. So long as it offers good mobility for kicking degenerates. 

Korekiyo: wears the uniform and his in game outfit. Keeps the mask.

Miu: doesn’t wear the uniform, keeping her in game clothes. She also has some other clothes, almost all of which have swear words on them, or pants with things written on the seat of them. Good thing hope’s peak doesn’t have a dress code!

Gonta: gonta is a gentleman who wears the uniform with pride! 

Kokichi: now with Kokichi it depends. Most day’s he’ll wear casual clothes, like hoodies and jeans. On good days/ days he’s particularly excited, he’ll wear his Dice costume from his art. If he’s not having a good day, he’ll wear the uniform. So far the only people who have caught on to this pattern are Sonia and Shuuichi. No matter what he’s wearing his scarf. If he ever came to class without it, Shuuichi/Sonia would probably pull him out of class in a panic to ask what was wrong. Beyond that, he’s got a bunch of hair clips he’ll wear sometimes, as well as rings and bracelets. His favourite bracelet is a bunch of purple glass beads that make a satisfying noise when he shakes his hands.

Kaito: He replaced his uniform coat with his purple coat. He is always wearing that coat. He also has JAXA shirts and other space themed clothes

Kiibo: for a while he didn’t have a uniform because.. well he’s a robot he doesn’t need one. But after he told Kiyotaka he wanted one, Taka gave him one, and now he wears it a bunch! It makes him very happy. When he’s not in class though he usually doesn’t wear it since he doesn’t want it getting dirty.

Tsumugi: Tsumugi made a lot of alterations to her uniform to make it ‘cuter’. Sometimes she’ll just come to class in different uniforms for various anime characters. As someone who sometimes just wears cosplay on a normal day and who goes to cons, there is something fantastic about seeing someone in cosplay doing mundane things, and thats what Tsumugi looks like near constantly. she’d rather have other people wear them, but ‘if no one else will wear them, I will!’and it makes good advertising. Also cosplay is fun!

Maki: Joining the modified uniform gang, also with pockets for knives and things. Also has a longer skirt. She braids her hair sometimes, because I can verify from experience that hair like Maki’s would be super inconvenient and get in the way. 

Himiko: she’ll usually wear the uniform, but if she’s feeling lazy/tired/depressed, she might just come to class in pj’s. Same thing for free times.

I think that’s everyone! lemme know if I missed anything, or you’ve got thoughts/things u wanna share! Thanks for reading this all!

[lady-plantagenet]

End of the year asks: 1, 4, 8, 5, 7, 9, 11, 17, 19 ❣️🎄🎅🏻

~Asked via ‘End of Year’ Ask Meme’: https://lady-plantagenet.tumblr.com/post/637933219260563456/end-of-the-year-asks~

1 ~ Song of the year?

I’ve pretty much gone emo over this song. It’s probably the most beautiful sound I’ve heard in my life, it’s so full of longing and sad beauty that despite how much I love it, I only play it in moments when I think I’m in the right mental state to appreciate it so it doesn’t become a background song haha. Yup, that’s the depth of my appreciation.

4 ~ Movie of the year?

I had already answered this one! :) press the ‘🍷❤️’ tag. But I’ll give another one for you that’s a bit different than the others: Midsommar. I was extremely impressed by the visuals I must say! It was true horror and scared me to bits (sidenote: I’m the type that doesn’t get spooked easily). I also found its exploration of cults quite fascinating. If you ever watch it make sure to then watch ‘How Midsommar Brainwashes You’ by ‘Accolytes of Horror’ on youtube to see what I mean! The analysis makes it even more terrifying.

5 ~ TV show of the year?

I don’t know if it counts since it’s a mini-series but definitely ‘The Shadows of the Tower’ which is this 70s show covering Henry VII’s early reign (you can find the first episodes on YouTube). It is quite possibly flawless (I obviously gritted my teeth a bit about the whole ‘Clarence had no brain’ remarks, but that’s really really minor). The acting is incredible and threater level, the dialogue a work of art not o ly in content but also in intonantion and the vibe about the whole show is so period and ominous 👀. Even if you’re not too big on Henry VII, you will fond great pleasure in the snapshot nature of the episodes eg one episode was about a lollard, the other about Sir John Kendall and the botched plot to assassinate Henry VII, another about a foreign navigator etc. If you like history you’ll love this!

7 ~ Favorite actor of the year?

yeah yeah call me basic, but if we’re talking about this year (as in contemporary actor) I must say Timothee Chalamet. The King has been criticised a lot but I feel like he really held his own there. Also loved him in Little Women, Beautiful Boy, Call Me By Your Name and Ladybird (among others). I’d love to see him become a permanent feature in movies!

8 ~ Game of the year?

Admittedly, I don’t really play any games. I occasionally go on lichess (and yes that’s way before The Queen’s Gambit came out) to play with friends, but otherwise, nothing really. I spend too much of my freetime on here already agshdj

9 ~ Best month for you this year?

You’d be surprised, but I must say: April. I don’t know why, I guess I just felt this vibe around me as I was surrounded by great historical fiction and randomly discovered sooo many new songs! Everyday was fairly peaceful as I didn’t have any assignments but just exams to study for, but as I knew the syllabus it was pretty relaxed. By that point I honestly needed a social break and lockdown gave me that without me having to invent any excuse. I also had my old flat with the lovely balcony I would go have my coffee on and it was just bliss ~

11 ~ Something you want to do again next year?

In my last answer for #11, I put continuing my WIP: A Bygone Era and staung on tumblr (which are stuff I only started this year - writing in Jan and Tumblr in February). To answer this again but with a different answer: I would like to continue with my hair care and corset experiments. I know this is very minor, but everything else from this year has already been done in other years. I’m currently still figuring out what homemade mask is best for me and it’s honestly been a trip haha (honey, olive oil + egg yolk is in the lead). With the corset training it’s satisfying to see the progress that is being made with my waist! I’ve neared down 3 inches already! (26’ -> 23’). And honestly whenever I have it on I just feel so dainty!

17 ~ Post a picture from the end of the year

This is a part of my garden back home atm. Between the red sky - green leaves contrast, and the heaps of snow... what could possibly be more Christmas vibes ey? (An especially appropriate post for today methinks)

19 ~ What’re you excited about for next year?

Most people would say an end to lockdown, but I don’t have high hopes tbf. I mean, have you seen the lack of discipline with most people nowadays? Ugh. One thing I can control (sort of) is getting into my masters next year. I’m terrified (because I might not get in) but excited (a nice change of scenery from London, and an opportunity to meet new people is always good). Not to mention, a more dissertation-based course is what I yearn for and need cause I despise exams. I’m really really excited at the prospect oml =)

[xxsanshinexx]

Sk8er Boi

Happy Birthday Yeosang~

Characters: Yeosang x reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 5721

Summary: Kang Yeosang always came in with some sort of injury. Hand, knee, cheek. You always had to patch him up. But now, you were a little concerned as to how all of this was happening. ~

He came in everyday, as soon as the bell rang, with a new scrap somewhere on his body. On monday, it was his cheek. On tuesday, it was his elbow. Today you could only imagine what kind of odd wound he would come in with. You always pondered over why he had such peculiar injuries; they didn’t tend to add up with any reason you had came up with. Fighting? Seemed like he would have more than such small wounds. Extremely clumsy? Doesn’t seem like he was one to fall down the stairs and only scrap his kneecap.

The whole persona of Kang Yeosang was rather peculiar.

You reorganized your notebooks and papers as flocks of students came in and out of classrooms. The occasional couple hugged each other farewell, the friends screamed at each other from down the hall, and the late sleepers ran in through the door with massive bedhead. It was always fun to watch your classmates scramble in as you sat there; having already been seated and ready minutes prior. And then the bell rang, students scrambling to get into their seats and your favorite person was still nowhere to be seen, not even as your teacher walked through the still open door.

“Good morning class,” Mrs. Jeon greeted, adjusting the glasses on her nose once she came to the front of the room, “Please have out your notebooks, pens and a highlighter for today’s lesson-”

The sound of frantic footsteps made your teacher pause, a knowing look befalling her face. In an instant, Yeosang stumbled into the room, breath ragged and face slightly flushed. It was an everyday occurrence for him to halt the morning greeting by barging into class.

That’s why Mrs. Jeon could only sigh as Yeosang gave her an abashed smile, “You’re lucky i’m nice, Mr. Kang. Anyone else and you would have been in detention more times than I can count.”

“Sorry Mrs. Jeon,” His voice was quiet like always, with that added raspiness that never failed to make you listen a little more attentively.

Mrs Jeon just shook her head and gestured to Yeosang’s seat which was right besides yours, “Just get to class on time Yeosang. This really is going to be the last warning.”

Yeosang just nodded his head as he flung himself into his seat, throwing his backpack on top of the desk to rummage through it for supplies. He always had this messy quality to him. His black hair was always a little windblown, his eyes always a bit dazed, and his clothes were always a tad ruffled. Even the snapback on his head was off-kilter.

He had apparently found what was needed for class and pulled it out, along with an apple and smoothie bottle- he always ate in the beginning of morning class. Setting his bag down, as Mrs. Jeon began to get into her morning lecture, he finally noticed your lingering eyes. His dark orbs stared into your questioning ones for a few seconds before quickly advertising them towards his blank notebook like words were suddenly going to appear on the pages.

You chuckled a little at how mismatched his interior and exterior was, “So what is it this time? Your knee again? Cut your finger?”

“I-um…” He glanced up to Mrs. Jeon, who was too immersed in teaching to notice, and then decided to pull back the sleeve of his hoodie. You hadn’t noticed his sweater paws before which managed to cover the entirety of his hands, and you were almost glad. The top of his right knuckles looked like it had been scrapped off, dried blood matting his skin enough so that you winced. His voice was quiet as he picked at the forming scabs on his hands like it was nothing but paint on a wall, “My hand this time.”

“I don’t think a bandaid is going to be able to cover that one,” Your voice was of equal quiet as you ducked you head with a pencil in hand, avoiding the inquiry of your teacher’s eyes.

Yeosang nodded besides you as he began to write the lecture title, rather sloppily, with his injured hand, “A couple bandaids probably would.”

“You’re literally still bleeding.”

“Do you have any band aids or no?” He pouted, hand shaking with effort as he tried to follow the pace of Mrs. Jeon’s speaking.

You shook your head with an exasperated sigh, “After this class ends… I’ll wrap your hand and everything.”

“Thanks Y/n.” His little smile of gratitude, a rare sight, was enough to get your heart racing.

“No problem,” You averted your eyes to your paper, trying to find interest in the ideologies of the Enlightenment instead of staring at him like an idiot, “ just try not to get blood everywhere for now-”

“Miss L/n, Mr. Kang!”

“Sorry Mrs. Jeon!”

The bell signaling the first class of the day being over came as you began to doze off on your notes on Plato. Not even the vibrant colors you added to your papers keep you awake at this early hour. You were nearly out when a gentle hand knocked on your desk.

You groaned in annoyance and turned your head away from the disturbance, “Go away.”

“Y/n my hand is bleeding again.” Yeosang’s exasperated voice sounded from right above your head. You tilted your head upwards and sure enough, there he was; clutching onto his wounded hand with worry clouding his features.

A small sigh sounded from you as you sat up, reaching into your bag for supplies, “I thought I told you not to pick at it.”

“To be fair you told me nothing of the sorts,” He huffed, wiping away some of the blood that was threatening to drip onto the floor.

“I’m sorry I thought it was common knowledge,” You pulled out a box you had deemed “Yeosang’s personal emergency kit” and set it on top of your desk. There was bandaids, tape, gauze and other small medical necessities piled within it; all because Yeosang was too afraid to go see the nurse. You even wondered why you bothered to become Yeosang’s personal doctor; maybe it was his little hopeful smiles, the shyness in his eyes or the fact that you had a big ass crush on the little, quiet nuisance.

“I didn’t think it would bleed this much,” He added as you stood up and gestured for his hand. Begrudgingly, he placed his slightly bloodied palm in your own and you inspected it with worried eyes. He had seriously scrapped it on something, most likely cement, and had managed to rip off a fair amount of skin.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you took a wipe to his skin, cleaning it with the as much gentleness as you could manage. He hissed a little at the sensation and an amused chuckle escaped your lips as you cleaned up all the red, “You have to stop hurting yourself, Yeosang.”

“It’s not like I try to,” His breath brushed against your forehead as you worked and you were thankful your head was down. “It just happens.”

“Mutilating your hand doesn’t just “happen”.” You huffed, setting down the bloodied wipe and picking up a piece of gauze.

“It can.”

“Are you seriously going to play this game,” You laughed a little as he looked away from you, a small pout on his face as you began to lay the material against his injury. “You just need to be a little more careful.”

“I’m careful,” He whispered, though it was laced with his own uncertainty. You could only shake your head at him as you finished up your makeshift bandage, wrapping his hand tightly with tape. It was quiet after that; you finishing off his hand and him just watching in complete awe. No one was ever this kind to him, no one willing to just drop their freetime to wrap him up. You had always been so kind to him from day one and he didn’t understand it.

“And that is why you come to school with a new injury everyday,” You rolled your eyes as you ripped the tape and set the rest of the roll back into your bag, “Seriously what would you do if I wasn’t here to patch you up?”

“Probably bleed to death,” His little joke made a smile break out on your face as you smoothed down the ends of the bandage. Your hands were rather small in comparison to his, you couldn’t help but notice this fact as you finished admiring your sloppy medical care.

Yeosang didn’t seem to mind that it wasn’t entirely up to medical standard.

Your smile shifted into a frown as you ran your fingers along the ends of the white wrap, “How do you even get these? I don’t mean to pry or anything… it’s just worrisome.”

His facial expression became one of uncertainty, and you knew you had immediately crossed some invisible line, “Um… well, I just.. Uh-”

“You don’t have to tell me, it okay,” You promised and retracted your hand away from his, saddened by the sudden lack of warmth.

He seemed to have a mental argument, his facial expression shifting every so often to encompass his thoughts. His nose would scrunch up when he looked to the side and his mouth would pull itself into a tight line with he blinked. You had no idea which side one you just knew it was all rather cute.

“Ah… fine-” He reached forward and took your hand in his once again, making pink tint your cheeks at the sudden contact. His eyes now had a new conviction in them, “Can you meet me at that giant tree out front, right after school?”

“Sure,” You said, your brows quirked up in interest at his entire change in demeanor, “You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?”

He got a little flustered at your playful teasing and frowned, “No.. why would you think that? I guess it is kinda odd- we could meet somewhere else if you-”

“The tree is perfect, Yeosang,” You laughed and the worry in his eyes seemed to vanish at the sight of your smile, “Just don’t stand me up, okay?”

“I won’t,” He promised, giving an enthusiastic nod, one of the most expressive actions you had ever seen him do, “It just might take me awhile to get there after class.”

“You’ll have five minutes before I get suspicious.”

“”I can live with that.”

Now you stood, with an excited feeling coursing through your veins, under the large oak tree at the front of school. Many other students lingered underneath its branches, either for shade or just a place to stand until their ride came. None of them were looking around anxiously for a quiet boy, fighting the grin that wanted to appear so badly on their face. Yeosang still had around three minutes until you told him you would take off- not like you really would either. You just had to say something that wouldn’t embarrass yourself or make you seem to eager to finally hang out with him outside of the confines of the classroom.

Your unfathomably large crush on the mess of a boy began the first day of the school year.

“Is.. um is anyone sitting here?” A quiet voice asked as you reorganized the pens on your desk for the fifth time that morning. You had gotten to school the first day much to early for your liking.

You nodded without looking away from the color spectrum you had built, “No, feel free to sit.”

The owner of the voice took the seat without another word and it made you frown a little. Everyone else had begun to chat it up with their new seat mates, the entire room was filled with their idle chatter and screams. Yet this boy didn’t even seem to make a single noise; having retreated to playing with the hem of his shirt sleeve.

You pulled your eyes away from your creation of boredum and glanced over to him, breath suddenly caught in your throat. Your initial thought was that he was absolutely beautiful and you had never seen him before in any of your classes. You had a feeling you would have remember someone with a facial structure like that- and not to mention his dark eyebrows that framed his features nicely.

You snapped your eyes away from his face before he could catch your wandering eyes. Instead, you focused your attention on his hand; where a small amount of blood was running down the side of his finger. How in the world had he already hurt himself? There wasn’t anything dangerous in this school or maybe this pretty boy was just naturally clumsy? Wouldn’t that be adorable.

“You’re um.. You’re hand’s bleeding.” You mustered up the courage to say, eyes trailing the drop that continued t snake its way down his finger.

His head snapped up and he glanced over to you, eyes almost dazed and showing a hint of freight. It made a small frown appear on your face as he averted his gaze, pulling his sleeve up to cover the majority of his hand, blocking the small injury from your sight.  “I know.”

“You know?”

“I just didn’t want to go to the nurse…” He said, eyes glancing over to you in almost sheepishness as his voice quivered for a second, “She uh-she scares..me.”

A small smile broke out on your lips at the boy’s explanation, “You don’t worry about Mrs. Choi, I always have stuff on me.” You reached into your bag, pulling out the small bundle of bandaids your mother had given you as emergency. She knew you weren’t to fond of going to the nurse’s office for small things either. “Here.”

“Oh.. I.. um,” He reached forward which his unhurt hand and took the small bandage into his hand, careful not to touch you in the process. His eyes held gratitude but a panicky smile was teetering on his lips, “I-thanks- I mean uh.. thank you..?”

“Y/n.” You felt your heart thump a bit erratically at the smile, shy but happy, that began to grace his lips. It was a contrast to the nervousness that was originally making them twitch.

“Yeosang,” His little smile grew, so much that it reached his dark eyes making it look like the stars themselves resided in them, “my names Yeosang.”

You knew that was the exact moment Yeosang’s name was imprinted in your heart. How chessy the whole thing was, your whole current situation was, every time you added Yeosang into the equation. The thumping of your heart and the lovesick emotion made you cringe- it all felt much too like a bad teenage fanfiction. You had little reason to think of Yeosang in anyway other than a friend yet your heart decided that it would go rambo whenever you caught sight of his messy hair.

Like now, as you spotted him bolting out of the school with his eyes searching the area around the tree, you heart opened fire on all your emotions. It took all of your will power to fight the blush or the childish grin that so badly wanted to appear in his presence, and became even harder when he caught sight of you- a new, timid smile taking place on his lips.

He bounded over to you, hands wrapped tight around the new object in his hands, a skateboard. You never understood why he was always so nervous, not even as he stopped in front of you- hands tapping a light beat against the board. You let a cheerful smile appear on your face as you stared at him, taking in the snapback on his head that was still crooked, “So you didn’t stand me up?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that to anyone,” He pouted but there was a light in his eyes, “Why do you keep making it seem like I would.”

“I’m joking, chill,” Your laughter bubbled out of you and you could have swore Yeosang’s lips twitched upwards, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I thought you were a bad guy… whatever it is that you invited me to do.”

He cocked his head to the side with an unreadable expression, “I told you, I’m gonna give you an answer to how I end up with all those injuries. Now, come on.”

You raised your brows at the new confidence in his voice but nonetheless followed alongside him as he took off, glancing back every so often to make sure you were following. The two of you fell instep with one another as he looked everywhere but you and you looked at the board that was vice gripped in his hands. “I didn’t know you skated.”

He looked back to you from the birds in the sky, finding your eyes already looking into his. To say his heart fluttered was an understatement. He feebly nodded his head as he turned his old board around in his hands, a sense of pride beginning to swell in his heart alongside something else. “Yeah… it’s one of my favorite things to do.”

“So you’re one of those X games boys?”

You got a scoff in answer, though his eyes lit up at the mention of the event, “Is that all you know about skating?”

“That and apparently the fact that you should wear bubble wrap whenever you get on that board.”

The laughter that bubbled from him was something you had never heard before. It was soft and lighthearted with a joyful undertone. A complete contrast to the reserved and quiet scoffs he would give you in class instead. A smile lingered on his lips as he spoke, the mesmerizing noise still lingering in your mind, “I’m not bad at skating. I just try to do too much.”

“Like what?” You tilted your head to the side.

“Like tricks and things. This morning I tried to do a 720 Gazelle flip and-” He flung his hands out in exasperation- one of the most expressive actions you had ever seen him do- and then gestured to his bandaged hand, “I ate it. I don’t even know how I ended up on the ground.”

You were perplexed at his sudden change in nature and the words that had came out of his mouth. “A… 720… Gazelle flip?”

He looked over at you as if you had just asked what air was. The sight made a giddy smirk break out on your features, “It’s one of the hardest moves! It takes even professionals a while to understand it and perfect it! I don’t even think Nyjah Huston could get it in the first couple of tries-” You had stopped listening to his passionate ranting at this point, fixated on the ways his eyes lit up, how his eyebrows moved up and down with his emotions and how his hands moved about when he talked. You had never seen this side of the shy, quiet boy who sat besides you in morning classes and you had never been more captivated by him than in his moment of passion- albeit for something you had no knowledge on. “-and now I’m in this bet with a guy who thinks he can learn it faster than me and I need to beat him- he thinks he’s so much better than me! I can’t let him have the satisfaction of winning a twenty dollar bet-”

He was still on his tirade and you could help but let out a giggle, effectively making him stop talking and blush in embarrassment. He had no idea why he had told you all of that. He barely even told his own mother half of the things he had just spoken freely about. You thought the whole thing was rather adorable, even more so as he raised his board trying to hide his face behind it, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ramble on about all that… I know you probably don’t understand it or probably care all that much-”

“Can you show me this… Gazelle Flip?”

He pulled his skateboard down a little, turning his eyes slightly to meet you amused eyes, “720 gazelle flip.”

A laugh left your lips once again as you rolled your eyes, “Fine, can you show me this 720 Gazelle Flip?”

He swore his heart stopped at your smile and he could only give a feeble nod, “Yeah but I’m not good at it yet- I’ll probably mess up or something! I don’t want you to think I’m-”

You reached out and took his free hand in a spur of courage, trying to effectively stop his rather cute rambling. It worked because as soon as you wrapped your fingers around his bandaged hand, his eyes went wide and the words on his tongue faltered. “I won’t think you’re bad at skating, if that’s what you’re getting at. I just want to see what it is, no judgement if you fall because I could never attempt it.” He gave you a little nod and you could feel his hand relax against yours, wrapping his fingers around your own ever so lightly that pink began to spread across your cheeks. “Now um uh… where are we even going?”

“The skate park.” His voice had reverted back to the timid one that woke you up at the end of class except this time red was plastered against his usually pale features. You weren’t sure how much better you faired, especially not as he moved to intertwine your fingers in his flustered quiet. Neither of you made a move to let go, not as you walked on in silence to the park that was a few more blocks away.

The park wasn’t exactly what you thought it would be. Sure you had seen them on tv before but it didn’t really encompass the whole laid back vibe of the place. There were no scary looking men or anyone hung over; it looked like the place was mainly teenagers or college students just looking for an output or something to do. And while the scenery was a bit gray, it wasn’t dull. You liked the overall feeling of such a place, and maybe it had to do with the fact that there was a special person right besides you.

“There’s not that many people here,” Yeosang mumbled as he began to lead you towards a relatively flat area next to the skateboarding pit.

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked as he he stopped next to a raise piece of cement. You could only assume it was usually used for tricks.

He shook his head no, “Just means less people will see me eat shit.”

His comment made you laugh as you rather regretfully let go of his hand and sat on the cement. From there, you would be able to get a good view of the gazelle whatever Yeosang was so adamant on learning. “I’m sure you won’t eat shit.”

“I’m most definitely going to eat shit, Y/n,” He reaffirmed, setting his board on the ground and taking his cap off, pushing all his hair back, “Don’t be too mad if I use up all of those bandages in your bag.”

“What’s new,” You leaned back on your hands as he hopped on his board, pushing himself around the area softly. “Now let’s see this gazelle flip thing.”

He shook his head and mumbled a soft, “720 gazelle flip,” before he began to pick up some pace. For a few moments, he just rode around getting used to the feel of skating after a long day of school before turning back towards you who was just intently watching. He slowed down a few yards away from you, seeming to take a deep breath and then managed to lift him and his board up in the air; both of them twisting and turning too many times to count until he tried to land back on it. Again, he did try. His foot hit the board but his body hadn’t rotated enough for him to stick the landing and he jumped backwards, stumbling for a minute before ultimately sitting on the ground.

“Even if you failed,” You said as you gave him a soft clap in approval of effort, “it was still impressive.”

“Love the encouragement, Y/n.” And then he was up again. And again. And again. You had lost count how many times he had ultimately failed at getting that trick down. Everytime he was at the point of frustration he would take his cap off, ruffle his hair and place it back on his head backwards. And everytime you would make sure to shout him words of encouragement, which left a small smile on his face that didn’t fade until he did another failed attempt.

“You’ll get on this one, Yeosang,” You cheered, still immersed in watching how he never gave up despite the countless fails. His nodded his head as his lips tightened, forming a thin line in concentration as he set back off to attempt the flip another time. It was amazing he hadn’t given up yet. The determination to win this dumb little bet was evident as his eyebrows furrowed together as he attempted once again to complete the little trick.

And your jaw dropped once he finally landed it, with no wobbling or shakiness to his finish. It was a feeling kin to winning or achieving something grand, even if you weren’t the one who had done it. Upon the initial shock of landing it, Yeosang looked up at you with wide eyes and a mouth wide with surprise, “Holy shit.. I landed it! Y/n I landed it!”

“I knew you would eventually!’ You grinned as he came to a stop right in front of you, a grin now plastered on his features.

“Oh Mingi wishes he didn’t start this bet with me,” His voice was cocky now as well as the smirk on his face as he sat down on his board, the ends of his shoes just touching yours.

You rolled your eyes, though it was more of a way so you didn’t stop and stare at him. His hair was wild underneath his cap, his eyes alight and for once self-assured, and the smile sent your way didn’t do anything but make your face go red. “You still have to perfect it and then show it to this Mingi.”

“Oh let me relish in this moment, Y/n,” He laughed and took his cap off, running his hands through his hair slicked with sweat.

You laughed a little at his words and tapped the ends of his worn out vans with your toes, “Now onto the hardest trick you’ll ever pull off.”

He looked back at you with confusion in his eyes, “That is the hardest trick i’ve ever pulled off-”

“You’ve haven’t taught me how to skate yet.” You smiled as you spoke, and near grinned as Yeosang laughed at your challenge, “If you can pull that off it’ll be a miracle.”

“I don’t think it’s that much of a challenge,” He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants before offering them to you.

“You clearly underestimate how awful I’m going to be at this,” You took his hands in your own and once again that giddy feeling was weaving its way through your body.

He just shook his head and stepped backwards, over his board and onto the otherside, “Skating isn’t that hard, just don’t fall off.”

“Jeez, how much motivational can you get.”

“What? That wasn’t good enough?”

“Nope, just fantastic; really reminded me of when I broke my leg and my mom told me to walk it off.” You huffed as he guided you to stand right in front of the small skateboard. Granted, you were a little terrified. Never once had you tried something as simple as skateboarding, maybe your spur of the moment challenge hadn’t been the best idea.

“I’m sorry I lack the eloquence of a motivational speaker, now just step on the board.” He braced his hands as you stepped up on to the small piece of movable wood, doing your best to balance at the change. To an outsider, you probably looked like a newborn foal; with your wide eyes and stiffness. Yeosang seemed to notice your change in demeanor and gave a small smile, his thumbs rubbing gently on the back of you intertwined hands, “Loosen up a little.”

“That’s easier said than done,” You placed both feet onto the wood, clutching onto Yeosang’s hands for dear life. “You’re like a pro at this.”

“I started where you are at one point,” He shrugged, moving backwards slightly and making the board move causing a breath to hitch in your throat. You were still uncomfortable and entirely off balance; there was no way you could just ride around the park.

“Do not go fast,” You warned but a little smirk flickered at the corner of his lips.

“What? LIke this?” He began to pull you a little faster and you felt like you were going to fall off at any second, though in reality he was in no more than a fast walk.

“Oh my God, Yeosang!” You cried, as he continuously sped up and the only thing you had from keeping you from flying off the board was your intertwined hands. You had no idea Yeosang could be so playful.

He cackled amongst your protests, slowing down a little to appease you and your screaming, “You’re not even going that fast!”

“It’s still terrifying!” You protested as you began to roll to a slower pace, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Well there’s first times for everything,” He stuck his foot out to stop the board, and while the motion stopped your movements rather gracefully, you still flailed at the abrupt stop. Yeosang was quick to catch you by your waist as you teetered at the edge of the board, holding you in place. Your heartbeat quickened at the sudden contact and you straightened up, putting your hands on his outstretched arms; both of you having no intentions to move.

It was the first time you had been this close to Yeosang. Now, you could make out the full shape of the charming birth mark on the side of his eye, the full dull color of it. He had expressed to you once before how he wasn’t that fond of it, but in that moment, your were completely smitten. And maybe it was the way his hair fell in his eyes despite his attempts to keep it in his hat.  And that little mole on the side of his chin or the sparkle in his gaze. Or maybe the way his eyes trailed over your features as well, seemingly lost in thought like he was memorizing every detail, that made you smile in complete content.

“I…. I really want to hang out with you again.” Yeosang said, almost breathlessly as his eyes trailed back to meet yours. “Outside of school and all.”

The words made that feeling of content grow into one of complete cheerfulness, “How about that cafe down the street tomorrow? After class?”

“I’m gonna make you skate there.”

“You’re ruining the moment, Yeosang.” A giggle erupted from you at his teasing and he just smiled, brighter than before.

”That sounds… perfect.” He nodded, looking down at the ground for a second before turning back to meet your eyes, “Just perfect.”

You could feel the both of you lean in slightly. To be honest, you never pictured this; you on a skateboard and Yeosang just staring at you, with a smile on his face. You certainly never pictured him leaning in, just close enough for his ragged breathing to fan over you.

And by God you would have kissed him if it wasn’t for that annoying voice.

”Is this what you’re doing instead of practicing for our bet!?”

”Dammit Mingi why did you have to show up now!” Yeosang turned and yelled at the tall figure that stood at the edge of the skate pit, apparently sharing the same sentiment you did. This Mingi just laughed and hoped off down the ledge, disappearing from sight as a red faced Yeosang turned back to face you. His head didn’t face you as he busied himself with playing with the loose ends of your shit, “I-um… I’m sorry about Mingi and everything that was just going to happen and all that… and yeah.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You gave him a gentle smile but he didn’t look up to see it. “I’ll head home so you can properly go beat this Mingi’s ass without worry. I’ll see you tomorrow? Okay?”

“No.” He said, voice firm as his head snapped up to meet you eyes but he averted them immediately, “I mean uh… just.. Watch me win this bet first and then I’ll walk you home… and we can just um maybe get ice cream or something.”

You chuckled at his shy tone that never failed to make an appearance as you brushed away some of his hair from his eye. It only seemed to make him more red, and you were sure his face had transformed into the color Crayola crayon as you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, “That sounds like a great deal.”

Yeosang was thoroughly dumbfounded at the sensation of your lips against his warm skin. Never in a million years could he have envisioned the day you two had together; the conversations, the moments, god even him getting you to laugh- and definitely not the kiss to his forehead. He could have never imagined that. He looked back up to you a look of wonder in his eyes, “Holy shit.”

As much as Yeosang’s reaction made you giggle, head tilted back as the laughter flowed out of you, another voice broke your pure moment. “Yeosang’s got a little lover! Get it-”

“Goddamn it Mingi,shut up!” Yeosang cried in annoyance once again, looking back up at you and as soon as you both met eyes; all you could do was laugh.

[sothisbound-a]

@goldenschemes

To his majesty Claude, prince of Almyra and King of my heart, enemy to all felines, and lord of the worst handwriting a pen ever put to paper,

It does my still heart well to hear your travels are going so nicely. Every time I hear something new about your lands, it makes me ever more eager to see them for myself. The places and the people sound so lovely and vibrant, it makes me happy to see you so excited about them.

I must admit, though, it did catch me offguard to hear the adoration your new friend has for me, as it does when I witness it here. I’ll never quite understand it, where does it come from? Regardless, it pleases me to see people, on both sides, shed hostility for curiosity. It brings me hope that we can bring both of our countries together.

Still, this young Miri sounds sweet. She does remind me of Ignatz, a bit. Speaking with you must have made her days. Perhaps I shall write to her, as well? If she’s looking for tips on combat techniques, I’m more than happy to assist and answer any questions you may not have been able to answer. Though I’ll admit to being somewhat jealous that she got your attention, so.

The preparations for the spring festival are going well. I’ve succeeded in getting Seteth off my back, at least a little. But only under the agreement that Flayn would fill in to teach me what I don’t yet know.

Working with Flayn is miles better than working with Seteth, I must say. And she’s not opposed to the occasional jaunt down to the wharf for a spot of fishing in place of long studies.

We’re opening the stores, against my personal better judgement(much as I’m happy to hold this festival to raise the spirits of our people, there are still shortages in many places - Faerghus especially - and I’m not comfortable with this waste of resources that could be better served sent to those in need

I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about these things right now. Where was I?

We’re opening the grain stores to provide the bakers for the Green Bread they’ll be baking for the festival. A small troup has gone off with a number of wood cutters to the Valley of Flowers for the closing pyre(I confess, I’ve forgotten what that particular ritual is titled). Apparently the trees that grow there have some special property that makes any fire they produces an, I’m told, “lovely foamy green, much like your hair, Professor” color.

There’s a few more things going on with the festival that I’m still not quite sure of, but the people are happy and that’s good enough for me. I find myself wandering the streets in my freetime, forced to in disguise as I’m far too recognizable for my tastes these days, to see them. 

Just the other day, I witnessed a pair of children play-fighting. It might amuse you to know that they were play-fighting as yourself and Lorenz. I’m not sure how their small-human brains work, but I recall the one playing you saying something along the lines of “No, your hair is too ugly, plum-head” and it took every ounce of strength I had not to laugh out loud.

Missing you dearly,

Byleth

PS: I’ve attached a gift I can only hope survived the journey. To replace the one you so selflessly gave away. I love you.

[nyxi-styx]

On Character Development

Let me preface this by saying that I started watching Supernatural somewhat casually in 2012, but binging in 2014. (The first episode I ever saw was actually a rerun of ‘A Very Supernatural Christmas’ back in 2008/09-ish.) I diligently watched EVERY episode, catching up online or on the app when I didn’t have cable. I stopped watching season 12 a few episodes in because I hated it. I watched some of the beginning of season 13 and it was “okay”, watched Scoobynatural because I’ve loved Scooby-Doo for as long as I can remember (my bedroom in 2nd grade when I was living with my grandma was entirely scooby-doo themed), and watched Gabriel’s episodes because... he’s my fave. I got tired of the repetitive storylines and recycled lore. I got tired of their mistreatment of characters. I am still tired of these things. And I’m tired of the constant fandom drama. I tried to leave, to get out, to stop caring. But I still care about the characters, the cast, my ships... Destiel and writing content for it has been a big part of my freetime for the past 4-5 years. It’s hard to walk away from something that has made you feel so many things so intensely. I started out as a Dean girl (still am) and Samcurious (Still am). Then I was a Cas girl, a Crowley girl, fuck- even a Kevin girl, before ultimately settling on Gabriel. When information about the end of season 14 came out, I was surprised at the route they’d chosen to go, amused, and- as a Rob Benedict fan- kind of excited. I was (and still am) ready for the absolute SHIT SHOW I know season 15 is going to be. It’s either going to be bad in the way that bad horror movies exist and you watch them because they’re so terrible but they’re fun. Or it’s going to be bad and no one is going to have a good time. It’s going to be emotional in the time leading up to the airing of it all anyway. There’s going to come “Last day filming with [actor]” posts, “Last day in the Impala“ posts, “Last day in the bunker” posts, and saddest of all “Last day as Dean/Sam/Castiel” posts. It’s going to be painful. But I’m ready and willing. I can’t wait to see what they do next. Anyway...

I tried to watch JUST the season 14 finale. But I barely made it five minutes before I had to turn it off. Not because it was bad, but because the recap, “Carry On Wayward Son”, and J2′s acting abilities and the EMOTIONS they portray... dragged me right back in. I knew I had to catch up. Against my better judgement. “Fuck.”

So, once I finished catching up on “Slasher” (great Netflix series, highly recommend), I started catching up on anything I hadn’t seen of season 13 and rewatching Gabriel’s episodes. (Did I mention he’s my fave?)  I’m now 10 episodes into season 14.

Now, the show isn’t without its faults still. Honestly, so many things could be solved if Sam and Dean would stop letting monsters monologue. Shoot first, ask questions later. But... then we lose all the drama, right? Still more things could be solved if Sam and Dean would talk to each other openly and honestly but hey. BMs, right? Bro moments? Broments?

First of all, no one will EVER be able to touch Mark Pellegrino’s performance as Lucifer. He makes me feel everything: From “Lucifer is annoying and I goddamn love him; he’s so funny.” to “Jesus fucking christ just KILL HIM WHILE YOU HAVE THE CHANCE!!! STAB LUCIFER! LET HIM DIE!!” and everything in between. He almost got me to sympathize with him. Yikes.

Secondly, the range of Misha fucking Collins and his multiple portrayals of different versions of Castiel (and Jimmy) will never stop blowing me away. He’s gone from Angel of the Lord and High Holy Tax Accountant and you WILL show him some damn respect!... to sassy as fuck (honestly I live for him sassing Lucifer while they were locked up in hell) and not willing to take shit from anyone except Sam and Dean. And that’s growth, man. He’s just... I don’t have the ability to put all of my thoughts and emotions into words, so please settle for a simple “UGHGHGHGHHHHHHHH” followed by a keysmash like so: aslkfla;sknfkasdjfnwqrjqejrfna Sam, Dean, and Cas are all REALLY GOOD DADS to JACK??????????? Like I expected it from Cas since it’s his duty because he promised Kelly and all, and I kinda expected it from Dean once he came around because he’d be the dad he wished he’d had, but I wasn’t quite expecting it from Sam??? But Sam is REALLY good??????

Sam has changed a lot too, overtime, and I don’t know how to describe it, exactly, but whatever it is... while I have always recognized Jared as a handsome man- sure, even hot or sexy at times- I never was SUPER into him... I’m more attracted to Sam now than I have ever been in the past and it’s something in his personality that has shifted that I can’t quite put my finger on. But attraction aside, it’s so GOOD to see these characters actually grow, change, and develop despite the fact that the show seems to have forgotten how to do that.

Now, at first, when I heard about Dean accepting warzone!Michael and being his vessel, I was angry. “Fuck that. That’s out of character. Dean would NEVER!” But... upon seeing it happen... okay, I get it. It was super in character. And it was awesome to see Jensen play something vastly different (and kinda hot) and do so very fucking well. The pain and fear on his face when he realizes what he has to do... Well fucking done Jensen!!! And the raw fear and pain on Castiel’s face as he waits alone... Well fucking done, Misha!!!

What I hadn’t noticed in my first watch-through of “Exodus” (I think)- and it’s probably because I was angry and turned it off- was that Dean said “Gabe sacrificed himself for us. We owe him everything.” First of all, I love the canonization of calling Gabriel “Gabe”. 12/10 Secondly, this is not the attitude I would ever have expected Dean to have about Gabriel. Not when you consider their history. And Jensen’s delivery of that really hurt. Additionally, when Gabriel is recounting his time hiding out in Monte Carlo to Sam and Dean, and Sam gets annoyed and cuts him off, Dean looks like he’s actually enjoying the story. He even turns to look at Sam with an expression I can only describe as “excuse you. the man lived my fantasy life and i’m living vicariously. rude.” The fact that Dean wasn’t always curt or hostile towards Gabriel is not at all what I expected and it’s honestly good to see that kind of growth. Dean and Gabriel aren’t really super different, after all. Furthermore, what I didn’t notice through BOTH times I watched Gabriel’s s13 episodes and what was featured in the recap preceding 14x01... Dean shouted “Gabe! No!” when Gabriel was killed by Michael. I didn’t notice this before and I legitimately had to pause the recap because it pained me. It genuinely brought me to tears. Again: GROWTH. Like... Dean actually cared about Gabriel. And that was something I never expected but oh my god.

I love finding things out about the characters we didn’t know before. So we all knew that Dean likes junk food, is a big nerd, loves Scooby-Doo, and loves classic rock music (and is a disaster bi) but I LOVED finding out that he loves horror movies and uses them as an escape. (Jesus, Dean and I are almost the same person except I’m pan). Gabriel’s entire backstory is another thing I loved finding out. Juicy tidbits are the best tidbits. But Gabriel’s character development is another whole post on its own.

Sam taking control and commanding forces out of the bunker is another personal favorite. As was Sam’s interactions with Lucifer and Rowena.

I don’t know. I’m starting to ramble because all of this is just bringing up more thoughts and I’m getting disorganized and derailed. It’s too long of a post as it is so I’ll just end it.

I’m just really glad to see the characters growing and developing in a show that’s just a dead cash cow that they won’t quit beating enough to take risks and make changes.

Oh god, the Wayward Sisters episode was its own hot pot of character development and  a masterpiece, but again... another post of it’s own.

[gayassbeenthings-blog]

chance

What is up. I’m back at you again with another vent session. Well, I guess I can’t exactly call it venting. More like a revelation I had today. One of my teachers was talking about his late assignments, and he hit me with the whole “Just because it’s quarantine doesn’t mean you can have late work. Y’all are seniors” talk. Well, that wasn’t what resonated with me (even though I’m one of the ones he was referring to.) It was what he said after that that did it for me. He said that this time of our lives really defines how determined we are to do things. At first, I was like well that’s stupid. Why would this determine that when we can’t really DO anything. I then realized that, without the busy-ness, I don’t know who I am or what I’m about. All I’ve been doing since this whole thing started is sitting around either moping because of what it cancelled or wishing for things that I can’t have right now which includes but is not limited to my own apartment, a pretty bedroom, and some quality life I’ll probably never have. I’m not meaning to say this like I’m morally or logically superior to anyone. Fuck, I’ve been sitting in bed all day giving myself a headache while watching stupid videos I’ve seen on repeat. I’ll probably do most of the same tomorrow too. But back to the original topic, I realized that this is the chance I’ve been looking for. A long period of (mostly) freetime to figure out who the fuck I want to be, who I am, and who I most admire. I want to take my depression head-on and really challenge myself to take care of me. Before, while I was busy, I would use being busy as an excuse not to take even the slightest bit of care for myself both mentally and physically. I wouldn’t give myself much needed breaks until I was completely shutting down (for lack of a better term). I would ignore showering and basic hygiene with the excuse of no time. Well, guess freaking what. I have all the time in the world, and I STILL DON’T DO THOSE THINGS. Except now it’s not the breaks that are the issue. It’s getting started that is the hard part. Finding the motivation to even begin on my schoolwork, to play my uke and guitar knowing I won’t play for anyone who cares for god knows how long, and just generally getting myself out of bed so I don’t feel like shit all day. Which happens A LOT now. I truly and honestly believe that this is the unhealthiest I have been in my entire life. I went to therapy the other day, and she told me not to push myself too hard. But good god, if some pushing doesn’t start happening, I am going to ROT. The worst part of all of this is that I can’t see my therapist in person anymore. We are going to try zooming, but whatever. It’s not the same. I am super grateful that I still get to see her. I can’t imagine myself being alive without her. It’s not that she really puts ideas in my head on how to get better. She validates or vetoes the ideas I have on my own. Anyways, all this to say I’m going to try to be better. I did this once before, but I pushed too hard and didn’t have anyone to say “Hey Jess, you are doing so well now! Also, did I mention how proud of you I am? Because I really am.” I think I’m going to take things slow now and be gentle with myself. The problem is that I never know how much pushing is going to lead to good things and how much is going to lead to a horrible mental breakdown. I might ask my therapist. I’ll try to write more, but I don’t wanna push too hard on that and not want to do it anymore. Just some food for thought. Also, this goddamn laptop is the best gift my little writer heart could have ever wanted. I type all my ideas as they come to my head, and this is my saving grace. 

[uniqueimagines]

Slytherin Sweets’ Crush

Paring: Slytherin Sweet Pea x Ravenclaw Reader

Requested: Yes, "Can you do a sweet pea hogwarts AU where he's slytherin and a ravenclaw girl catches his attention and he does everything he can think of to try and get her to go out with him, only to find out he's been doing it the wrong way (like he does not understand girls or something) but someone tells him just to ask, and fluff?"

Description: Slytherin Sweet Pea does everything he can think of to try and win over a the Ravenclaw reader. When all his shenanigans don't work he decides to try and talk to her. Who knew speaking to someone would work so well.

Authors Notes: This is my first time ever writing anything crossover and anything about Hogwarts so I apologize if it isn't the best.

Warnings: None

Word count: 793

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Hogwarts was like your home and you spent most of your freetime in your common room reading spell books. Nobody who knew you was surprised when you were put into Ravenclaw. You didn’t spend much time talking to others let alone pay much attention to boys, especially those in other houses. Everyone who knew Sweet pea were even less surprised that he was put in the Slytherin house than that you were in Ravenclaw. While you were fairly closed off and spent most of your time studying Sweet Pea typically spent most of his time flirting, that is until he sees you studying in the library. From the minute he saw you he knew he would do just about anything he could to get you to go out with him.

A week after he first saw you he has tried speaking to you every chance he got but you always just answered whatever stupid question he asked and went back to whatever you were doing before he interrupted you. Sweet Pea had come up with a plan to impress you by turning one of your quills into a rose. Sweet Pea decided to wait until you were in the library and relatively alone. Sweet pea sits at the table behind you watching you write. Leaning to the side he quickly turns the quill in your hand into a red rose.

You look around confused as Sweet Pea sits behind you smiling cockily. “What the hell I cant write with a stupid rose,” you groan quickly turning the flower back into your quill and continuing writing. Sweet Pea groans and rubs the snake tattoo on the side of his neck. He was confused, he had never had an issue getting a girl and never felt nervous to talk to anyone.Throughout the next week you continue to have weird and mysterious stuff happen to you. Everything seemed to go wrong in some way or another though as Sweet Pea tried to get you to notice him. First he snuck a chocolates into your bag which melted and got all over your journal. Then he turned your scarf into a bouquet of flowers.

Sweet Pea was getting really frustrated and had learned that to you have to answer an extremely challenging and thought provoking question, usually only Ravenclaws can answer , to get into the common room where you liked to sit spend your free time. You had been spending more time in there since someone had been messing with you and Sweet Pea decided he was gonna sneak inside to show you just how smart and clever he is.

Sweets had told his friend his planned and the followed him because they didn’t believe that he would be able to answer whatever the question was. To all their surprise he managed to answer it quite quickly and snuck inside quietly leaving his friends on the other side of the painting. When he got into the common room you were the only one there an sitting with your back to him reading. “Hey, Y/N,” He stands smiling rubbing his tattoo nervously. “What the hell are you doing in here?” You ask turning around seeing the Slytherin boy towering over you. “I have been trying to get your attention for like two weeks and none of it seemed to work so i thought maybe i should just try and talk to you.” You roll your eyes and shrug, “Well your cute and I wouldn’t mind talking to you but next time don’t break into my common room and please leave my stuff alone.” “Well I’m sorry, I’m Sweet Pea. I’ll leave you to finish your reading. Meet me in the library tomorrow after class?” You give him a small smile and nod, “See you tomorrow Sweet Pea.”

Sweet pea stood outside class waiting for you to walk out. When you came out he smiled lightly, “I hope you don’t mind I waited. I figured we could just walk to the library together. I umm, I could carry your books for you.” You laugh lightly and let him carry your two books along with his own. “Thank you and of course I don't mind.” When the two of you get to the library you sit beside him as the two of you talk about what you had learned today in class. Sweet Pea gently holds your hand on top of the table and you turn to look at him biting your lip nervously. He leans a bit closer leaving an inch between your faces letting you decide if you wanted anything more to happen. Smiling lightly you lean in pressing your lips to his and he gently cups your cheek. “Thanks for deciding to talk to me.”

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