#i also did another (art) project for class this morning that took less than two hours at least | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jkstompers · 4 years ago

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just to study | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.

genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.

warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!

word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)

authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(＞��＜) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ

(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)

side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3

banner pic creds here ! <3

you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)

“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.

he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.

to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.

“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”

“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.

you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.

quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”

he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”

you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.

or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.

you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”

you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.

he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.

“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”

jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.

you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”

he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.

you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.

jungkook nods, “sounds good.”

“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.

“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.

“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.

“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.

“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.

“fascia.”

“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.

jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.

“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?

“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.

you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”

jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.

“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”

your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.

he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.

oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.

you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.

begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.

you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”

“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.

tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.

“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.

you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.

for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.

it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.

you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.

you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.

“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.

at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.

jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.

he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.

“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.

the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.

“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.

you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”

“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”

he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”

you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.

[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫

[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?

[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)

[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha

[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂

[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want

[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear

[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush

[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?

[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂

[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…

[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay

[10:37 am] you: ah okay

[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)

[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)

[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?

[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol

[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie

you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.

[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)

[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha

[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie

[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front

jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.

“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.

he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.

“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”

“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.

he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.

“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.

“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.

“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.

he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.

he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.

jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.

you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.

“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.

“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.

you shrug, “why not?”

yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”

“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.

“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.

“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.

yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.

“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.

yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).

the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.

so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.

you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”

the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.

but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.

“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.

“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”

“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.

you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”

yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”

you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.

“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.

“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.

“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.

the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.

“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!

“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.

“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.

he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”

yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”

you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.

“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.

“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.

“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.

“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.

“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.

jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.

“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.

your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.

you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.

“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.

“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.

“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.

he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.

jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.

his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“

you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.

“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.

“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.

goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.

“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.

he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.

a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”

the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.

“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”

he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”

he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.

“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.

you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.

jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”

the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.

with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.

he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.

you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.

jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.

you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”

jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.

you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”

with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.

“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.

he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”

“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.

you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.

so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.

“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.

you nod, “i did.”

“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”

the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.

you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.

but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”

he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.

“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.

he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.

“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.

“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.

you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”

he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”

jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.

he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.

the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.

his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.

[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee

[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww

[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie

[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂

[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3

he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.

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kuroo-shitsurou · 4 years ago

Text

Auxilium (College!Xiao x College!Reader)

TW: mentions blood, depression, anxiety

note: it's my first time writing and posting something on tumblr so im sorry if it's bad!! reader is gn hehe.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick. Humans make decisions that eventually shape their personalities. What does a new year have anything to do with that? Does a change in the year automatically make you a good person? Does it make you less of an asshole than you might already be? He never really understood.

He found it rather silly, actually. Whenever a new year rolls around, Xiao would mutter silent curses to himself because he'd write the wrong year on his papers. Other than that, there wasn't any significant changes he made in his daily routine. He was still the same Xiao; The same anxious, mildly depressed, and coffee-high art major Xiao.

Now, Xiao was a respected figure in their college (or at least, that's what he was told). He was one of the most talented artists at Tokyo University, and professors have been eyeing him for a scholarship overseas (he, along with his brooding and mysterious senior, Diluc). His keen eye for details always produce great results as most of his portraits are featured in the university's gallery of students' greatest works. Not to mention, one of his larger canvas works were displayed at the Tokyo Museum, making him one of the youngest artists to have their art showcased there.

Admittedly, Xiao was aware of how people admired his talent. Unfortunately, due to a rough childhood where his parents barely showed him any love and affection, he had trouble reflecting his true emotions onto other people. That's why other art majors often labelled him as a self-absorbed, egotistical prick.

Xiao was the last person you'd want to compliment. It's not that he'd be a dick about it or that he'd scowl at you and act as if he was better than you in every way possible. It wasn't like that at all. It's simply because Xiao doesn't know how to handle compliments. He'll still keep his stoic face, lips pressed in a straight line, but deep inside, he'd be flustered to bits. He'd try to internalize his reply, stitching together the right words to express his gratitude, but it would always take him a few minutes. The person who complimented him would've already left after he finally constructed the sentence in his head. Not that he wasn't used to it

This led to Xiao earning his current reputation, as stated earlier. He was already expecting the rest of his college years to be spent alone in his studio, working on his artworks during the wee hours of the night, high on the fumes of his paint palette and his exhausted coffee machine.

Until you came.

Kaoru was... eccentric. You were loud, you were moody. He felt like you'd be the type of person he'd hate dealing with just because you was unpredictable. You were like the rain, and Xiao hated the rain.

He must have an Archon's cursed tongue, because he got paired up with you during the first semester of their second year in college. You were a familiar name to him, as you were in the same course since the first year, but he barely knew anything about you since you were in different classes.

"Hey, Xiao! I'm _____. I hope we can be good friends by the end of the semester!" His memory of your bright smile still remains vivid in his head. He wasn't really a brooding type like Diluc, but Xiao liked to believed that he presented himself as a silent person who had no intentions of interacting with other people. So, how were you so bubbly around him? Because she was forced to do so? You were to be his partner for the whole semester, after all. Maybe it was all formalities. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Hm." Xiao gave a nod in her direction, acknowledging your existence. you heard from your friends that the young artist didn't have a pleasing personality, but you weren't expecting to be shutdown from the get-go.

"Mind if I sit beside you?"

Again, a light nod.

You felt the awkward tension between you and Xiao, and you hated it. You were a person who hated it when people are uncomfortable in your presence. You didn't want to be a bother, and you did your best to make everyone like you. Not that you were a people pleaser, nor an attention hog, but you just wanted to get along with everyone.

The lecture was going to begin in twenty minutes, so the lecture hall was yet to be filled with people. You took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the amber eyed man beside you, who was typing away on his laptop. Something about color theory and how it affects the perspective of people on different art types? You couldn't really see that well. He was a fast typer.

"So, Xiao, I heard that your painting was displayed in the Tokyo Museum last year. It must have been an honor. I was at the unveiling last year and I saw it up-close." You started off, testing the waters.

"And what did you think of it?" Xiao cringed internally. He meant to genuinely ask for your feedback regarding his art, but it sounded so harsh that he wanted to punch himself when he saw you wince (or maybe you shuddered because it was cold and you were wearing a sleeveless top? His nerves were getting the better of him at this point).

"Well, a lot of my friends told me that it wasn't anything special,"

Ouch.

"It was a large canvas. I can still remember how it looks. But, maybe that's because I'm at the museum every two weeks," You laughed. You noticed how Xiao's breathing noticeably changed after you started your sentence, and you have to admit that it sounded a bit too mean.

"You know, Xiao. My friends told me that your art was simple. Anyone could have done it. But honestly, they couldn't be more wrong. I love how your piece was painted. Auxilium. I'll never forget what you called it. That's... Help, right?"

At first, Xiao didn't want to listen to this person ramble about an art piece he made during one of the lowest points of his life.

His anti-depressants had run out during that one Christmas. It was 2:47 in the morning. He had morning classes the following day. He had a project to submit, but he was unable to continue working because of the unbearable pain in his chest. His head was throbbing. Voices were invading his mind. Flashbacks of his parents' negligence taunted him. He rushed to grab a glass of water, chugging it down in almost three chugs. He slammed the glass back onto the counter, smashing it into tiny little splinters and cutting himself in the process. His hand was bleeding, there were bits of glass on his counter and on his floor, but he couldn't care less. He was heaving, his breathing was unsteady, he wanted to die right then and there. His vision became blurry, but he rushed back to his studio.

With a bleeding hand, he picked up his brush and began to tear into his canvas. Not literally, but he started to create strokes onto the blank canvas. Different colors, different textures (he swore some of his blood got blended in with the area where he painted the sunrise, but it's fine. No one was going to notice, right?). He screamed and cried, wanting to throw the entire easel out his window.

It was Christmas. He was alone in his apartment. His anti-depressants ran out. He was having a panic attack.

That night led him to having one of the worst breakdowns he could remember, but he also ended up with a gorgeous painting that nabbed him a place in the Tokyo Museum.

"Help," Your voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance.

"People can tell me that it's nothing more than a simple painting, but the way that the sunrise was only showing in a segmented part of the canvas? The way that there were hints of red? It kind of reminded me how a new day can resemble hope but still contain hurt. Like, the promise of a fresh start isn't guaranteed a good one, right?"

Your words rang in his ears like a gong being hit continuously. He wanted to cry. People always complimented him and congratulated him about being recognized by art critics and national museums, but none of them ever really stopped to talk to him about his art. They were there for his recognition- not his work.

"I mean, you could begin with a fresh start, but wouldn't the remnants of yesterday still take a toll on your tomorrow?"

"Hm. Interesting take. To be honest, those specks could have been my blood." Xiao spoke up, to your surprise. A small smile formed on your face. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

"My hand was cut up when I was painting that," He added quietly, not mentioning why his hand was in that state. "I think I accidentally added too much concentrated red. I couldn't blend it out the way I originally planned."

"Oh? But that makes it all the more great, though!" You beamed, "Maybe it was an Archon guiding you? I don't really believe in that stuff, but acknowledging some divine intervention once in a while can't be all bad, no?" You laughed.

"I guess you're right." For the first time in a while, Xiao actually gave someone else a small smile. It wasn't really a smile per se, but his lips curved even the slightest bit upward, and you decided that it was a win for you.

Fast forward to the second semester of their third year.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It had been years since he was clinically-diagnosed with mild depression. So, why was he still that way? Shouldn't new years help him be a better person? Or something like that. Why was he still like this?

Late February meant the end of one semester, and the start of another.

What else did that mean?

His semestral feedback report (he refused to call it a report card. What was he, high school?).

"Xiao? Are you here? I bought almond tofu from Xiangling's place. Sorry for barging in, you weren't answering my calls." He heard your voice from the kitchen and he glanced at the clock on his studio's wall.

1:37 AM.

You were at Xiangling's place because you were working on a report about the history of acrylic paints or whatever it was. You were supposed to go home, but you still dropped by his apartment. He checked his phone.

[ 14 missed calls. ]

Yikes.

"I'm here." He answered meekly, but loud enough for you to hear. He felt tired. Defeated, maybe. He was blankly staring at the canvas in front of him. He has sketched the base of your face and upper body. He was planning on painting a portrait of his beloved to decorate his room with, but he couldn't find the energy to continue.

He could hear the soft "thud"s of your feet walking from the kitchen towards the studio, but he tuned it out with an annoying static he could only hear in his head.

Fuck. Where are they?

He rushed to the drawer next to his easels and rummaged around in a panic.

Where the fuck are they?

He kept a few anti-depressants in his studio because he spends most of his time here and he didn't have time to rush to the kitchen to get them if he ever got a panic attack.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly, throwing the contents of his desk onto the floor. Some of his paintbrushes scattered on the wooden floor of his studio, marking the wood various colors. Maybe they're going to stain, but he didn't really care.

Xiao heard the footsteps retreating until he couldn't hear anything else except the constant ringing in his ears. It was annoying. It was loud. It started to make him want to split his head open.

"_____," He whispered, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten. The passageways helping him breathe seemed to close themselves, giving him a hard time and mocking him. It was coming back again.

Tears started to flood his vision, and they rolled down his red cheeks. He took the ponytail out of his hair and used two hands to tug at his locks starting from the roots. His breathing patterns became more erratic, but he tried his best to stay calm.

His knees and legs felt like jelly. He had to lean against the desk to avoid from toppling over.

Why? Why again? Why now? Why when you were here?

He screamed. It was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but his care for any external entities was out the window the moment his eyes became blurry with tears.

Even though he was leaning against the desk, his legs still couldn't hold the weight of his entire body. His knees dropped to the floor, and he swore he must've dented the wood below, but he paid no mind to it. His knees were also aching, but he could deal with that later. He bent down and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"_____," He whispered again, longing for his partner. "Auxilium."

"Xiao?" The voice was muffled. His eyes were glued to the floor in front of him, but he knew it was you.

"Xiao, stay with me, honey." There was a hint of panic evident in your voice, but he was glad that you didn't let that get the best of you. You was still somewhat calm.

You kneeled down beside him, helping him back to an upright position.

"Honey, you left these on the counter outside." You handed him two tablets of his anti-depressants, and he gladly placed them in his mouth. You also gave him a glass of water, and he downed it in two swift gulps. Afraid that he might underestimate his strength, he returned the glass back to you instead of setting it down himself, nodding at you in the process.

You got into a more comfortable position where you rested your back against the wall, and you guided Xiao to follow you. It was a difficult task; He was very sensitive during his panic attacks.

His semestral feedback reports always made him anxious. He didn't have to please his parents anymore since he moved out years ago, but Xiao had this nagging feeling inside of him to do better with his academics. Nobody was really pressuring him to be a straight-A student, but did he feel like he needed to be? Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? You knew about his sever panic attacks and how they were more active if he had a big event coming up. The first time you had to deal with it, you were still stiff and trying to learn how you could help. Now, you takes pride in yourself for being able to handle him in the ways you know would help him the most.

"Here you go, I've got you." You cooed, assisting him with moving. You laid his head flat on her lap and she began stroking his beautiful, tousled forest green locks. The highlights he had under the first layer of his hair started to fade, and you made a mental note to take him to a salon so they could get their highlights redone.

"You know, I've been listening to a lot of Coldplay lately," You started speaking, as if Xiao wasn't about to have a full-on panic attack. "Yellow would have to be one of my favorite songs. I guess it's kinda cheesy, but can you blame me?"

You used your free hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." You began singing, voice just above a whisper.

"And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow."

Xiao was a reserved person who had a hard time dealing with other people because of his inferiority complex that sprouted when he was young.

"I came along, I wrote a song for you."

He didn't have love and affection growing up. He didn't know how to be the best person to talk to. He had poor communication skills. He was a mess, to be honest.

"And all the things you do. And it was called yellow."

You were the first person who looked past his rough and tough exterior. You were the person who showed interest not just in his name- but in him as a whole.

"So when I took my turn, what a thing to've done."

"Thank you," He murmured silently, noticing that the ringing in his ears vanished. His throat was beginning to open again, and he could finally feel the steady heartbeat he had in his chest.

"And it was all yellow."

Xiao curled himself into a ball, burying his face in your clothed stomach. You smelled a bit like smoke (maybe you ate yakiniku at Xiangling's?) and your faded cologne. It smelled like home. It washed a sense of relief over his entire being. He felt safe. He felt secure. He was being held like a child, but he didn't really mind. Maybe he needed this.

"Your skin. Oh yeah, your skin and bones,"

You craned your neck downwards to look at Xiao's figure. He finally looked peaceful. You knew about his rough past. You knew about the trauma he had to go through, but you chose to look past it because you knew that he was just afraid and... alone. He needed someone to be there for him, and you would rather the world die than leave him alone ever again.

"Turn into something beautiful."

You noticed how his chest started a rhythmic pattern of ups and downs. His breathing was finally steady. He looked at peace. He looked like he was right at home.

"Do you know? You know I love you so."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched him sleep in your lap. How could anyone think that this softie was an asshole?

"You know I love you so."

You barely whispered the last part of the song, but it was loud enough for his heart to hear it. Xiao hated when things were unpredictable; that's why he hated the rain. But now, maybe the idea of rain wasn't so bad. Especially since you were his rain.

"I love you, Xiao."

At that moment, you knew that the involuntary smile on Xiao's face was a response that contained more emotions than his words could ever bear.

"I love you too."

#genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao imagines #genshin impact #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi #genshin #xiao

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boiolay · 5 years ago

Text

Paper Scribbles | Mark Lee

summary: the one mail that made him wish he did things differently | childhood bestfriends!au + idol!Mark

genre: fluff; angst

warnings: swearing

word count: 6K

"Mark! You've got mail."

It was already past midnight when they arrived at the dorm. After working the whole day on the choreography for the comeback, the only thing the boys wanted was to go to bed and sleep for as long as they could. Mark especially. He had been drained out of energy for being involved in so many activities, differents unities, choreographies, composing… He felt like his days had less hours than his members’ so everything else than work, at that moment could wait.

"Just leave it over the table. I'll take a look tomorrow." He mumbled rubbing his eyes as walked to his bedroom.

"I think you should take a look. It's from Canada."

He stopped as soon as he heard his home country. It wasn't unusual for him to receive mail from his parents, but they would always tell him they were sending something. He frowned trying to remember if his mother had said something and was almost sure she didn't, but he still turned around walking back to Taeyong letting his curiosity take over him.

"Thanks, hyung."

"Don't take too long, Markie."

Mark nodded taking the brown envelope from his hands before the older walked away. Plopping down on the couch, he twirled it around searching for the sender's address. He didn't have a clue where that was, it was definitely from Canada, but the place written on the paper didn't ring any bells from who it could be.

Until he found your name.

He widened his eyes and held his breath as he read the name printed on the paper a few more times checking if he wasn't just imagining. It had been years since he last heard of you. And seeing your name written by a handwriting that wasn't his was making his heart do things that he didn’t know it could do again.

During all those years he hasn't heard of you. But you were in every little thing that surrounded him. You were on his reflection in the mirror every time he saw the little scar under his chin from when the two of you were trying to learn how to skate. You were in the black socks that he wore because you always told him the white ones were lame. You were in the stars in the sky that you used to stare as you laid on the grass from his backyard on a weekday when you were supposed to be studying. And especially, you were in the lyrics of every song he wrote.

Seeing it, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder back to the days when you were his partner in crime. When everyone in the neighborhood knew that when one of you were seen alone you were planning something. When his parents knew that if he wasn't on his bedroom at a friday night, he would be at yours. When he thought you were gonna be forever.

It was probably a summer morning when you met. It has been so long that neither of you remembered, and it didn't actually matter. The two of you only knew that you meet in a playground, you weren't even three yet, Mark was feeling too shy to join the other kids on the sand box, so you walked up to him and offered your favorite cookie, asking him to be your friend. Your mother once told him you wouldn't share it with anyone but him. Well, he took a bite from it and threw it on the floor. It made you cry, but as soon as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks, he felt bad and hugged you. That was when your friendship started, and little did you know that you would never leave each other's side. At least until you were fifteen.

You were together in every memory he had from his childhood. When you started preschool, your teachers instantly fell in love with the two of you. On your first day, you came hand in hand. He had a red cap that was almost big enough to cover his eyes and you had your pigtails bouncing as you made your way to the class. You had the biggest grins on your lips, you were the only kids in the whole class that didn’t throw a tantrum to leave their parents, after all, you had each other. There was no way your teachers wouldn't fall in love at the sight of you comforting the other children. They only found out that the duo meant trouble when, a week later, in art class, you would replace your canvas with each other's faces. At the time that idea of having pink all over your face sounded just right. It would match your dress!

Another episode that warned what was yet to come was when you were caught trying to sneak your pet rabbit into the school trip. Mark helped you to put it on his bag so you could bring it to meet it's cousins at the zoo. Your plan failed when Mark opened his backpack to put his lunch on it on your way to the school and the rabbit jumped out. Your moms had to hold back their laughters as they tried to scold both of you.

You wouldn’t stay away from each other even when you were grounded. Whenever your parents tried to punish you for misbehavior or something, you always found a way to be with each other. Once he was grounded because he was caught eating candy in the middle of the night, and that made his parents not let him leave the house in the following day. In the next morning, they woke up to Mark laying on his belly on the entrance hall happily kicking his legs with the door wide open. As his dad walked further to investigate what was going on, he saw you on the porch in the same position as the two of you drew and talked. Mr. Lee just shook his head grinning before inviting you to breakfast. Mark didn't disobey his parents, after all he didn't leave his house.

Mark was really found of all those memories, even though some were told by his parents and others he remembered vaguely, he treasured every moment he had with you. As he grew up, his memories became gradually more defined so as he could remember the details of them, they also became more meaningful to him.

He was able to remember, for example, you giving him a bouquet of red flowers and wearing a dress of the same colour the night he played the flute on his band for the first time, he had felt so happy to have you clapping excitedly at his performance. Or even when you spent the whole night helping him finish his biology project that was due the next morning even though you had an english test the same day. Of course he didn’t know that, otherwise he would have never asked for your help, but when a friend in common told him that, he remembered feeling guilty and selfish. So he bought your favorite ice cream with his lunch money and stood in front of your class waiting for you to leave, ready to comfort and apologize to you. For his surprise, you came out smiling.

“Didn’t you fail?” You laughed throwing your head back before reaching to take the cup out of his hands and linking your arm with his.

“You think too low of me, Mark Lee.” He sighed relieved smiling while you made your way back home chatting. Little did he know that you, in fact, failed, but seeing him waiting for you made it feel like nothing.

One memory that repeated itself every year, but became more clear in his mind as he grew up was when the two of you would run between the sprinklers of your front yard in the summer, laughing and purposely getting wet to cope with the hot weather. These were his favorite memories. It was something that first happened when the two of you were still little and your parents were too distracted with the barbecue party to notice you sneaking out. When they did, you were in the middle of the lawn giggling and running away from the water jets with your chubby feet. Mark recaled the same scene a few years later, the two of you just a little older with the same happy smiles on your lips. This time, you were being chased by your siblings and were big enough to know how to use a water gun. The last time it happened, always brought a grin to Mark’s lips, all the details were clear as day.

He ran after you with the smile he always had whenever you were around, you also ran, but away from him. You screamed for him to leave you alone, but the laugher that would come out of your mouth every time he came close to catch you told him you didn't actually mean any of that.

“I’m serious, Mark! I don’t want to get wetter than I am!” You shouted at him as you faced each other from opposite sides of the sprinkles, you laughed at him resting your hands on your knees. You two were panting from all the running, but you couldn’t be happier.

“Too bad you will, loser.” He smirked at you and jumped through the jets to get to you. A surprised yelp left your lips, but you reached to take the hose that was just behind you and splashed it on his face. He coughed surprised when the water hit his eyes and you turned it off as soon as you heard him, your eyes widened and your mouth agape as you watched him recover from your sudden attack. As Mark rubbed his eyes, you walked closer to him trying to hold back your laughter with the hose still in hands. You touched his back that was turned to you and caressed it softly talking with the sweetest voice, knowing he couldn’t get mad to you when you did that.

“Oi, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to-” At that moment, he turned around and jumped on top of you making you fall on the ground. You wiggled under him to try to pull him away, but he held your wrist pinning you down so you couldn’t move. He smirked taking the hose from you and splashing all over you, finally getting his revenge.

“You son of a bitch!” “Yah! Don’t curse my mother!”

He laughed as stared at you pouting with your red cheeks and your hair all wet spread on the grass. He couldn’t think of a moment when you looked more beautiful.

“I’m sorry. I forgot it’s not your mother’s fault you are an idiot.” You flashed him a teasing grin that in just a few seconds turned into a genuine smile. You stared at his sparkling eyes and soft smile that always made your heart skip a beat. His hair was all messy and wet and you couldn’t help, but run your fingers through his strands. He closed his eyes enjoying your sweet touch leaning his head closer to you.

“Yeah, but you still love this idiot.” He whispered and when opened his eyes to stare back at you lovingly, you grinned leaning up to rub your lips against his and whispered before kissing him slowly and tenderly.

“Well, you are not wrong.”

Besides the good memories you shared, you have always been there for each other, in the good and bad moments. Like when he broke his arm and you did all his homework for three weeks, or when your grandmother passed away and he was there to wipe all your tears. But like in every friendship, you did have a lot of fights, mostly petty ones.

Once you tried to cut your own fringe and ended with just a tuft of hair on the top of your forehead, when he saw it he laughed so hard he felt on the floor out of breath. You gave him the cold shoulder for the next two days. That was until, after your soccer practice, you forgot you were supposed to be mad at him and stormed into his bedroom with your cap still on talking happily about the goals you’ve made. He looked at you puzzled as you laid beside him on the bed, you frowned at his confused face, but soon remembered you were not talking to him. And when you were about to stand up to leave, you saw him smirk and point his chin to your head.

“Nice cap.” You punched him on the arm, but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Shut up.”

Another one was when you gave him spoilers of the new Spider-Man movie. He knew it wasn’t your intention, but he so wanted to see for himself that when you told him about the ending scene he ignored you for a whole day. He only accepted your apologies when you said you would go see the movie with him and would pay for the popcorn. In a minute it was all forgotten.

You were fourteen when you confessed. Neither of you knew when the romantic feelings towards the other appeared. They were just there, hidden, until it bloomed like a flower in the spring, always ready to pop up just waiting for the right moment. It didn’t surprised him tho. It had always been you, just the two of you. Maybe it sprang up was when you held him a little tighter than the other times when he came home from a trip with his family.

It had been over a month since he had gone to the middle of nowhere, you didn’t talk during that time because he had no access to internet. Of course he missed you, you were everyday with him, how wouldn’t he? What he didn’t expected was that when you came running to him, just a few minutes after they parked the car in the garage, his heart would go on loops. He saw you coming his way with the brightest smile on your lips, your yellow flowered summer dress floating around you and your hair fluttering, for some reason he froze on his spot as watched you come.

Has she always been that beautiful?

He only came back to his senses when your body hit on his almost knocking him down on the ground. He automatically wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly against him not wanting to let you go and hoping you wouldn’t hear the drums inside his chest. When you pulled away, too soon, he stared at you with shining big eyes and you smiled shyly under his gaze.

“Hi.”

“You grew taller.” It was only then that he noticed he had to look down to talk to you now. He just nodded, lost of words, as you kept looking at the changes on the other. You stayed like that, secretly admiring each other’s features until his brother cleared his throat beside you.

“Are the lovebirds gonna help or we’ll have to wait until the wedding?” He was used to people teasing you like that, but you would always shrug it off or roll your eyes. However, this time it felt different. He saw you blush and mumble saying that you would help his mother before walking inside the house, he felt his ears burn and widened his eyes at his brother making the older laugh.

Or maybe it was when he said 'i love you' after you gave him a bowl full of watermelon on one of your movie nights. You would always tell each other that, but that time it had a different meaning. It didn't held the same teasing tone as before. He had said it with so much tenderness and had the softest look on his eyes. It was such a usual moment, the two of you just chilling in the living room, you wearing his hoodie even being summer. You have said it was a bit chilly outside, but later he would find out that you liked to be surrounded by his scent.

It just felt right to say at that moment. And he did it.

You just smiled extending him the bowl, ready to say it back like everytime you did something to him. But when you looked down at him he saw you freeze for a moment as you stared deeply in each other’s eyes. The same words you would always tell the other felt completely different now. And you could tell which that meaning was by his eyes that shined and overflowed with affection, admiration and love. When you smiled shyly with your cheeks tinted bright red and sat beside him, closer than you would before, he knew you were alright.

"I love you too, Mark."

And it was just like that. You confessed to each other in the most intimate, yet innocent way it could have happened. And you knew. There was no need for other words. You reached over to lay your hand between the two of you and he gently placed his own on top of yours with a smile on his lips and his heart beating wild. He looked at you with the corner of his eyes and saw the most beautiful smile on your face as he laced your fingers together.

Not long after that you shared your first kiss. You guys were too shy and flushed to do it before, but just like the rest of your relationship, it just happened.

He was walking you home after your first official date, or, after going for some ice cream. It was like before, but now he could hold your hand whenever he felt like. When you got to your front door, he reluctantly let go of your hand and pressed his lips together standing in front of you. He shifted his weight from one side to the other and saw you playing with your feet as looked everywhere but him. You both felt what was about to happen. Mark was nervous and he knew you also were, after all, neither of you had any experience in anything that was happening.

He cleared his throat softly and wiggled his body back and forth moving his gaze to you.

“So… I’ll come tomorrow. And we can go to the pool or try that muffin recipe you found…?” “Cool. That’s cool for me.”

“Cool.” When you raised your head to look at him, he chuckled softly noticing you had a little bit of ice cream on your chin. How cliché, he thought.

“You complain that I’m a messy eater, but look at you.” With a warm smile, he stepped forward and held your jaw with one hand while the other gently rubbed the stain out of your skin. Your faces were closer than they have ever been. Mark saw the blush on your cheeks, but didn’t say anything as he felt the blood flood his. He stared at your wide shining eyes and you both couldn’t held back a smile. All the anxiousness from before completely dissipating as you drowned on each other’s eyes, he suddenly felt at peace. Feeling your breath against his skin, he closed his eyes. The only thing he remembered after that was his lips on yours.

It was... weird, but good weird. It was wet, there was too much tongue, teeth meeting more than it should. It wasn't his fault, neither yours, that’s just how everyone’s first kisses are. But yours felt just right. The way he held you tightly, like he was holding the world on his hands. The way he caressed your face tenderly. The way you held his hair, gently pulling him closer to you. The way you smiled against each other’s lips and giggled. The way your heartbeats synchronized into one.

After you pulled away, eyes still closed, you just stood there with your arms around each other and beaming smiles on your faces. When Mark opened his eyes, he met yours, you have never seen his eyes shining so bright like that. You exchanged your goodbyes and he hugged you one last time pressing a sweet kiss on your forehead before crossing the street. He was on cloud nine and so were you.

Nobody was surprised when they found out you were dating. In fact, almost everyone you knew seemed to have made a bet on when the two of you would get together. Mark realized that when saw his brother giving yours twenty dollars, he had bet that Mark would only grow some balls to ask you out after you started dating someone else and your brother had bet that he would be your first kiss. Said and done.

Your parents were thrilled when you told the. Although all of them knew you were eventually end up dating, your father was hoping it would take a little more time, but that didn't stop him from inviting Mark over just to ‘hang out’ as he used to say, even when you were busy. He told Mark that he felt like his second son and couldn't’ have wished for someone else to be with his little girl. He really enjoyed spending time with your father too, he felt like he belonged to the family even more. The only one that wasn't very keen of the two of them together was you, he would always laugh when you argued with your dad saying that Mark was your boyfriend, not his.

Besides that, our relationship was much like any other. You had dates everyday, they wouldn’t always be going to amusement parks or to the cinema, most of them were the two of you sitting down while Mark played his guitar, or doing your homework in silence enjoying each other’s presence. The time you would spend just the two of you immersed in your own world was his favorite type of date.

One that he treasured was when the two of you had just finished your exams in school, he knew how stressed you were so he decided that you had to chill out a bit. He took two of the biggest blankets he could find and as much pillows as he could carry and ran across the street with his hands full. Since he basically lived in your house he didn't bother ringing the bell, he walked to your backyard and settled the things down on the grass and sent you a text that said “ i’m by the pool. bring doritos.”

He watched as the lights of your bedroom were turned off and smiled to himself as he laid down on top of the pillows. When you came to meet him, you had a side smile on your lips and were already in your pajamas.

“What is this?” He grinned brightly and reached for your hand, that you gladly held, pulling you down to lay beside him.

“This is me making you stop overthinking your grades.” You rolled your eyes playfully, but followed his lead and snuggled him under the blanket.

You talked for hours. About the most silly things, your deepest desires and fears, you were each other’s safe place. At one point of the night, he was talking about whatever while staring at the stars, but you had found a much more interesting sight. You were on your side facing Mark and had your head rested on your hand, you couldn't help a smile as you stared at his profile. You couldn’t tell, but Mark saw your eyes roam every feature of his face, his almost defined apple cheeks, his pink pretty lips, his little nose…

“Are you even listening to me?” He giggled when turned to face you and meet your mesmerized eyes. You shook your head lightly before smirking softly.

“I was not. It’s not my fault you distract me.” He laughed throwing his head back and clapping his hands as he felt a little blush creeping on his cheeks, but he moved to lay on his side to face you. You reached a hand and touch his face caressing every part you had been staring, rubbing his cheek, bopping his nose, what made he giggle more, contouring his lips with your thumb, but when you locked eyes he heard a sight leave your lips.

"I love your eyes, you know..." You blurted out. "I mean, I love all of you, but your eyes... They have a special place in my heart." You chuckled and stopped your hand on his apple cheek caressing it gently. He grinned widely and reached to hold your hand intertwining your fingers.

"Is that so? Why?"

"They sparkle. I feel like i can see your soul looking at them. They shine. Just like your soul, Mark. And you have such a beautiful one, baby.”

Those words stuck to him until now and whenever someone complimented his eyes he thought of you.

One thing he was grateful for was how much support you gave him. You were always there for him, supporting him no matter what, hyping him when he was feeling down and doing your best to make him happy. It was even you who he told first about the SM audition that was going to happen. You quickly ran to his house to make sure he had typed his informations correctly in the enrollment paper. He was still uncertain if he should try, he was very insecure of his abilities and just the thought of leaving for the other side of the world made his heart ache, but he just let you think that his hesitations were because of his insecurities.

“Mark! You are amazing. I've already told you this a thousand times! There's nothing to worry about. You are so talented... They are gonna love you. And if they don’t, first their loss. Second, this is just a try out, it’s just the beginning, love. Your life won’t end because you failed one audition. Okay? Have some faith in yourself!”

You skipped school to go with him to the audition. His brother offered to drive Mark so you could join since his parents would have asked if yours had allowed you to come, the answer would have been no. During the whole ride to the city center, Mark had his legs shaking frenectly. You tried to sooth him by holding his hand and caressing the back of it, but he was too nervous, not even your touches could make him calm down.

Once his brother parked the car he felt his heart stop. Mark was so tense that he didn't remember much of what happened after that. He knew his brother had talked the whole time you were waiting, making jokes to try to make him laugh and you hadn’t let go of his hand even for one second. He was glad you were there to reassure him even if it was just by squeezing his hand.

At some point he was told by the staff that he had to go alone from there. He sighed deeply and nodded at his brother and you, if he wasn't so terrified the would have laughed, it looked like you were the one auditioning. You let go of his hand and offered him a smile, he turned around to walk inside, but after a few steps he felt your hand on his arm, meeting your gently eyes when he turned back.

“Hey. Before you get in. I just want to say how proud I am of you. I can't put in words how amazing and talented you are. Just trust in yourself, Mark. You are gonna shine more than the brightest star in the sky. And i'll always stand by your side no matter what happens.” You winked and gave him your brightest smile. “Now go get them.”

That was all what he needed to regain his confidence.

The results came a week later.

When he told you the news you screamed and laughed like never before, hugging him so tight that he had to ask you to loose it a bit. You had told him how happy and proud you were of him and gave him a little lecture about how he should trust himself more, but soon was kissing all over his face again. Before you left to go home, he thought he had seen a different shade on your eyes, but he shrugged it off at that time.

The time he had to say his goodbyes and pack was way too short. He tried to stay as much as he could with you, but he had a ton of things to do before leaving to Korea it made hard for you to have some time alone. He was feeling bad because he felt like he wasn’t giving the attention you deserved, but you reasured him that it was alright, that you understood why that was happening and that you would be with him even if he just had two minutes to talk to you.

On the day before he would go to Korea he took to spend it only with you, he took you to a walk on the park, bought you your favorite ice cream, took you to the little playground where you met and didn't let go of your hand. It didn't even feel like he was leaving, he was so happy to be able to make you laugh and look at your bright eyes that he forgot why he was doing that.

He only remembered it later that day when he heard you on the sleepover you were having at his house. Neither of you were supposed to sleep, so you could spend more time together, but he closed his eyes and felt asleep. He woke up a few minutes later when heard the bathroom door close followed by your quiet sobbs. He realized how difficult it was for you to let him go. He knew you were happy for him, but he could understand what you were going through. Having your best friend in life that it’s also your boyfriend to move to the other side of the world while you had no choice, but sit back and watch, it breaks anyone's heart. He didn't think he could be so selfless if he was in your shoes. All the times when he thought about becoming an artist he saw you by his side, but he realized that you always somehow knew that wouldn't be possible, that you couldn’t be part of that. Even so, you were there supporting him, wanting him to pursue his dreams, to be happy, even if that meant that you would have to let him go.

Just by hearing your shaky breath he could tell you were trying to control your emotions, but every time you would inspire, a loud sobb would come out from your chest. It was too painful hearing you break like that. He barged in the bathroom what made you quickly try to put a smile on your face and hide your sadness, but failed. He just pulled you into his chest and buried his face on your neck letting his own tears flow down his cheeks while you resumed crying, this time on his arms. Once you were calmer, he brought you to the couch where you hugged each other for the whole night while he caressed your hair and whispered on your ear sweet nothings and promises that he didn’t know he could keep.

You didn't come to the airport with him in the next day. You had told him that you prefered to say your goodbye on your street when you could pretend he was just going on a trip. He had laughed, but felt his heart ache. When the time came, you tried not to look at him, he knew you didn't want him to see you cry again, he knew you wanted to be strong for him, but he held your face to make you stare at him, he wanted to look into your eyes since he didn't know the next time he would be able to do it.

You didn't need to say a lot of words to make him understand everything you wanted to tell. He pulled you to a last tight hug staying like that for a few minutes. Eventually, he had to pull away since his parents were telling him they should go. He held your face between his hands, eyes roaming around your features like he was trying to engrave the sight of you on his brain.He let go of you with a nod once he felt tears start to rush to his eyes. As he was about to enter the car, you held his hand catching his attention. You walked to be in front of him and leaned up to press your lips gently against him.

“I’m really proud of you. And I love you.”

And then he left to Korea to chase his dreams, leaving the love of his life behind.

All those memories, those intense moments brought a sad smile to his lips and made tears well up on his eyes. He sighed deeply rubbing his hands on his face and trying to put himself back together after those old feelings that had come intensely over him all at once. Even after so long you had the same effect on Mark as before.

Yes, of course he dated after you. He fucked around, he was at his peak of popularity, there were girls falling on his feet, he tried to forget you, he tried to find someone with whom he could share his life. But none of them felt right the way you did. He couldn't help comparing them to you and none of them came even close to be as special as you were. Even if his head wanted to let go of you, his heart wouldn't . He couldn't love them the way he loved you. The way he loves you.

Mark stared at the brown envelope on his hands and twirled it one last time before opening with trembling hands. Inside there was another envelope, but this time it was a pretty white paper sealed with a golden wax. He turned around to look at the back and he read his own name written in your elegant handwriting, just like in the notes you would leave around his bedroom or on his notebooks. He smiled fondly and ran his finger over his name feeling warmth spread on his chest. Soon, after letting his thoughts run to you again, he left out a shaking breath before finally breaking the seal and pulling another paper from inside, his heart beating wildly on his chest.

As soon as his eyes met the first words he froze. His heart sank. Feeling a bitter taste on his mouth he read the golden letters over and over, but couldn't believe. Or didn't want to. He only realized he was crying when some words on the bottom of the paper were becoming blurry. He dropped the papers on his lap and rubbed his eyes trying to get rid of the excess of tears on his eyes. His mind was blank. How could that have happened? How he could have let that happen?

He the papers once again, but this time he noticed something that he didn't have before.

At the back of the paper, on the top corner written on a red pen that didn’t match the golden letters printed on the paper there was a inscription scrambled on your handwriting. He couldn't help sobbing when he finished reading. It said:

“My love, i confess, i’m getting married, but the love of my life was and it’s always gonna be you. Yours, ___ .”

author’s note: so....??? i loved writting this so much, but i cried so hard at the end. I would really really really love to read what you guys thought of it. And if you came until here, thank you so much!!! <3

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strangerays · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing in Particular Update #1

Hello, hello!! It’s been a really long time since I’ve written an update for this story! (this is a real update btw, forget the “first” one I had) To be honest, I haven’t been able to work on this story as much as I would like, being busy with classes and... well just life in general. (what I mean by this is that Shadow and Bone was released on Netflix) But! I do have some excerpts I wanted to put out there as well as some overall changes to the story.

Before I start: here’s the actual link to the story synopsis/characters!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-): @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-girl @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting @raenawrites

STORY CHANGES/IDEAS:

First off: I had to rewrite 30,000 words and basically turn it into 10,000. The first draft was icky, but I turned it into something I really enjoy! This is a sign that writing is always worth it!!

I added in a couple of characters! I was starting to feel like the story might not have been balanced enough. Luckily, the muse struck me and I created Mars and Theo! Mars is a lovely (and enigmatic) older woman that Ray meets at a bird sanctuary and Theo is a new friend of Lonan’s.

There wasn’t much action in the beginning of the story, so I wrote a confrontation between Jude’s friends and another person that Ray spies on. This is how she meets Jude, and I am in lovvve.

The timeline for the entire story might be a little bit longer than I intended! I went into this project thinking it might only take place over a month, but in order for Ray’s mental health journey to be realistic, I’m going to shoot for an entire school year (around six-seven months). Honestly, I’m just happy I get to write a Halloween scene. As for the word count total HAHA I have no clue what that will look like.

I think Lonan will be a bit of a back-burner character! At first, I was a little wary of this decision since he’s my favorite, but I think it would be very exciting to have Ray hype him up before he ever appears in the story. That way, the reader sort of starts to think about him in one way, yet he might be completely different when he finally shows up...??

Chapter titles are one of my favorite things about this story. Also! I am a huge fan of short chapters! They move the story right along.

I prefer to write slower and use other projects to balance out this one when I get a little tired of it. Over the last month or so, I’ve gotten really into short story writing again! This has been really helpful in working on my specificity and pretty prose. Even though the short stories don’t contribute to Nothing in Particular, I’ve been taking a lot of what I’m learning and applying it!

EXCERPTS (UNDER THE CUT)

CHAPTER ONE: THE SPY

During the summer between my sophomore and junior year, Lonan Herrings packed me into his Dad’s repainted Chevrolet, left his name sharp on his mother’s tongue, and drove to New York City at six in the morning. For the first time since we’d become friends, jealousy weighed our silence. He buzzed across the highway, even though we knew his mother had no intention of finding us.

“Which animal would I be,” he asked, “if I left tomorrow and lived in the forest?”

“Why would you want to do that?” I smiled even though I knew he was probably serious.

His shoulders squared and he looked out his window. Two men in the next car shouted at each other, their windows down. Something about a mortgage. “You would come with me, of course.” He turned to me. “Which animal gets along best with a doe?”

I shut my eyes to snap the cold. It might have been the fact that, most times, his gentle voice pulled ragged words from his throat, as if he had just stepped out of the rain after standing in it for hours. It might have been the way he cupped the rim of a camera with humble demure. I was never afraid to tell him anything in the patience that bled from him. His eyes were milky blue and he wore an olive jacket covered in pins that kept strangers interested. Since he seemed like he felt out of place most times, I never did. We were a grade apart; our friendship bloomed late. So long as I had a friend at all, I didn’t care how we’d met.

“You would be a blue jay,” I decided. For only a second, I’d been worried that I offended him, until his mouth curved to one side and he laughed softly, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed. His head hovered over the steering wheel. A patch of freckles absently creeped over the bridge of his nose like winter weeds.

This first chapter is a flashback to exactly a year before the second chapter takes place! After an argument with his mom, Lonan drives out of state with Ray. I plan for it to be all we see of Lonan (in the present) up until the halfway point of the story.

CHAPTER TWO: I WAS QUIET

I was a firm believer that the best art was created when the artist was alone, angry, or depressed.

After Lonan secured his train ticket to New York, I was surprised to find that I became none of these things. We buried a time capsule, painted his walls cerulean, and drove two-hundred miles without a word to anyone. Some of my most colorful memories were unplanned in the beginning.

Katherine Herrings’ bakery loitered over the coast of town, sheltered in pitch crags and shallow tide pools congested with cigarettes. I often ate lunch on the deck on my break. She was the only person I knew who – after everything her nephew had said – didn’t make him the first topic of our conversations.

An indie rock song that I recognized buzzed from a radio below me. I pulled my tablet screen down and pushed my chair out so the plastic legs kicked up and scratched the backs of my legs. Slowly, I peered between my ankles, through the patio boards, and into the boat lodge below. Pumpkin-red hair plastered to my forehead in the heat that clung to the late days of September. Waves bubbled and crashed, peanut oil dripped from hot dog buns, and muffled gossip chirped like a family of cicadas. I bit my tongue at the bitter smoke that warped the wind.

Jude laughed then, and her shoulders tipped, haughty. Waves hissed in her silence as the lights in the kitchen behind Katherine flickered. Her mouth opened slightly at the ring of dishes and laughter that danced with each other inside. A moment passed before she took a wide step back.

Together, her accomplices waltzed after her as she ran down the pavement, flecking sand until the night’s blue air gulped their outlines. Katherine beat a towel against the patio leg, then she slid and locked the door. Frogs jeered in the silence that pervaded the sea.

I whispered the name back to myself so I wouldn’t forget it. Jude Ahuja. I took a sip of ginger ale, and she buzzed on my lips.

The story cuts to Ray’s senior year of high school. Summer has just ended, Lonan has left for college, and her camera is broken. Jude is a bit like a character out of a film to her, and she wishes she could know more about her after witnessing a loud argument with Katherine Herrings, Lonan’s aunt.

CHAPTER THREE: PEOPLE-WATCHING

Early into our friendship, I’d learned this patience. The first time he brought me to Sugarfell, he told me that all of the paths led back to the same place. As long as you played the game, you were guaranteed a prize. He didn’t speak much, but I knew he wasn’t a very good liar.

Less than an hour passed when I was met with silence. I crept up and down the same path four times. Each step sent a shock through my legs to my chest. The sun hadn’t risen to the highest point in the sky, still glimmering through tree branches in golden fractals, pulling on static darkness.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

I shook my head fast. “No.” My voice barely reached a whisper. It was a lot deeper than normal.

He puckered his lips as though I had offended him. “But you were about to.”

“You said that all the paths lead back to one another.” I stood up from the jagged stump and shuffled through the leaves until the tips of our shoes were inches apart. “I knew you’d come back. And you did.”

When I turned back, sore curiosity teased the emerald in Lonan’s eyes.

“Do you ever people-watch?” he asked softly.

This chapter is another really short chapter that I’m ultimately not sure I’m going to keep! I sort of included it by accident while Ray was riding her bike to the forest, but I ended up really liking it as a bridge into the next scene. Hopefully, I find I way to make it fit!!

CHAPTER FOUR: SUGAR-COATED

Years with Lonan had prepared me for being alone. If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. Lonan observed too much. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks with roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes.

I did remember, but I couldn’t then. Blood gushed too close to his eyelid and dripped down his cheek like tears. There was a grace period in my life – likely when I was a newborn – when I couldn’t picture what my blood would look like on the light side of my skin.

And this is where I’ll leave off on the excerpts for now! I’ve been really focused on taking my time and setting things up before the next chapter, which is going to have lots more action in it. Things are going to start picking up again, so I’m really excited for that!

Thanks for reading if you made it this far :)

#nothing in particular and everything #my writing #writing updates #I was so so so #SOOOO #nervous about this one bros #I'm having a difficult time deciding what to share and what not to share #but I think I did an okay job #anyways #excited for the next scene I'll be writing #UPWARDS AND ONWARDS #<3

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

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The Marriage Project (1)

Omg I can’t believe it’s taken me THIS long to post this. I wrote this chapter probably in like April or May and it freaks me out to finally post but here it is!

My slow burn (American) High School AU with Tom Holland!

All the general info for this series is on the story masterlist, but I’ll list warnings and word counts on every chapter. Chapters will be much longer than my typical 2000 or less babies

Warnings: This will become a mature story in the future (no smut; more info on masterlist). Some profanity in this chapter

Word Count: 4140 (I told you!)

% approximately the 2nd week of August %

Ah, senior year. One last year of high school, one last year of seeing the people you’ve grown up with every day.

You’ve been told it’s easy. The best year ever. And yeah, maybe it will be. It’s not like you’re taking too many hard classes or overloading yourself with extracurriculars, aside from volleyball, soccer, the National Honors Society, and quiz bowl.

(Okay maybe it was a little much, but you loved it anyways)

The only real problem was the certified thorn in your side, Tom Holland.

He’d essentially been your mortal enemy since the sixth grade when he beat your mile time by only a few seconds.

Now, it’s not that he was a bully or anything, he was just so insufferable to be around. And yes, everyone always says boys pick on girls when they like them, but rest assured that wasn’t the case. You’d both always hated each other, nothing more.

You were always competing, and because of that ended up in the same place a lot.

He was in all your honors classes, in NHS, played boys soccer, and did quiz bowl. The only thing you had to yourself was volleyball except, oh wait, his younger brother’s girlfriend was on the team and Tom was his ride home every day.

All these thoughts raced through your head as you walked in on the first day, sitting down in AP calculus as soon as you finished up at your locker.

Everyone did the “how was your summer?” and “long time no see!” as students filed in. Eventually walked in Tom, and you shot each other a glare as he sat down right next to you.

“Holland.”

“Y/l/n.”

Everyone around you groaned. They all knew you two were forces to be reckoned with and probably dreaded spending another year listening to the two of you bicker everyday.

Though you were often in close proximity, you never really talked much, except to argue. Rarely did you agree unless it was on basic facts, and even then was it hard to admit sometimes.

Because of this, you typically resigned yourselves to only speaking when it came to grades so you could keep a mental tally of who was in the lead. You were both in the running for valedictorian at the end of the year, and you were not about to let Tom win.

The week was almost over and things had gone smoothly for the most part.

Sure, you and Tom had had a couple of spats, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly.

He’d been to all of your volleyball games so far, even the summer ones, which meant he was forced to watch you dominate the court as both a setter and right side hitter.

It was a nice little satisfaction.

Especially because you’d watched him throw some horrendous passes in the preseason football game last week that led to a loss by one touchdown. (Okay, he’d had some good passes too, but they were lucky shots).

You settled into your seat in senior home economics Friday before lunch. The class was your school’s attempt at teaching some life skills for rising adults. For the most part however, it was a glorified cooking and sewing class. You didn’t mind per say, since you could cook up a pre-snack lunch sometimes.

Most of your friends were in there, including your best friend Alexis, whom you hadn’t seen all morning.

You, Alexis, and two other girls stood around a mixing bowl with the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies since it was a Friday, which Mrs. Flynn called “dessert day.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” your teacher, Mrs. Flynn, started getting everyone’s attention. “This year we’re doing something new for this class! Next week I’ll have you all split into pairs for a semester long marriage project! I will be drawing names out of a hat, so don’t get too comfortable yet. Anyways, be thinking on what kinds of careers you might want and things of that nature! Okay, now get back to your desserts!”

The whole room broke out into chatter the last part of the hour-and-a-half class, people speculating who might end up with who and what jobs they’ll get.

“Oh my God, wouldn’t it be funny if y/n got Tom?” Alexis stated as you stirred chocolate chips into the dough. The other girls laughed as you just snorted.

“Yeah, I’d rather lick the inside of the microwave than be paired up with him for a semester,” you replied, earning more laughter from your friends.

You assumed Tom’s friends were saying the same however, because when you looked over to see how bad their dough looked, he was rolling his eyes as his group pointed in your direction.

The next week came and went, and it was once again Friday. Or, as Mrs. Flynn was calling it, Wedding Day.

Every time she’d pull a couple’s name, she was going to make you both come to the front of the class and exchange plastic wedding rings and sign a fake marriage license.

Yay.

Everyone chattered excitedly as she tore up the strips with your names and mixed them around. Finally the time came for her to start the drawing.

“Okay, friends. First up we have...” she drew the first name. “Katherine and... drumroll please?”

The class drummed their hands over their thighs.

“Chris! Come on down folks, let’s get this marriage on!”

She “married” the first couple, and then continued to draw. You had to admit that you were a little nervous, but still eager to see who you’d get.

Two couples later, she pulled Tom’s name.

You shot him an eyebrow raise to which he returned a discreet middle finger. You rolled your eyes as you prepared a drumroll for Mrs. Flynn.

“And his lucky partner is... y/n!”

“What!” you both exclaimed simultaneously.

Almost the entire class burst into laughter.

“Mrs. Flynn, this has to be a mistake,” you said.

“Yeah, can’t we have a redraw?” Tom asked.

You hated that he was agreeing with you.

“Nope! You get who you get and you don’t throw a fit! And if it doesn’t work out in a few weeks we can discuss divorce plans.”

“How about annulments,” you stated dryly, earning a chuckle from her.

“That… kinda depends on if you have kids,” she trailed awkwardly before perking back up. “Now come on down! They always say your first marriage is the most memorable!”

“Who has ever said that?” Tom asked.

“You know. They. Now just get up here and do the ring thing!” she commanded.

You both sulked up to the front of the room.

“Okay, now stand here facing each other and hold hands.”

“Do we have to?” Tom whined.

“Yes, now do it and it’ll be over with faster.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands, holding them loosely.

“May I have the rings please!” Mrs. Flynn asked Caroline, the girl whose desk was closest that she’d asked to be designated ring bearer. She handed over the basket to let you both choose from the mix.

You took a silver colored ring with a faux white diamond in the shape of a star. Tom chose one with an oval “ruby.” You couldn’t help but notice how every single person was on edge watching the two of you.

“Okay now Tom, repeat after me. I, Tom Holland, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

He mumbled through the vow, avoiding eye contact, and slipped your star ring onto your finger. You were surprised at how gentle he was, carefully caressing your hand and making sure the ring faced straight up once it was on your finger.

You, too, said the lines and placed the ring onto his left hand.

“Alright. It is with the power vested in me by this very school that I am proud to now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now air kiss!”

You took a deep sigh and pretended to kiss each other's cheeks.

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. Holland!”

They began to cheer and clap and laugh when you interjected.

“Uh, no. It’s Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

Tom began to argue with you when Mrs. Flynn stopped you both.

“Alright fine, we’ll do a combined name. How’s the y/l/n-Holland family sound?” she asked, writing your names on the fake marriage certificate.

With reluctance, Tom agreed to having your name first and you both signed the paper.

Finally you were able to sit back down where your friends were waiting.

“So what was that about licking the microwave?” Alexis asked.

“Oh shut up.”

After your volleyball game (another win!), you and Alexis conversed over cheese fries at your favorite diner.

“Still not ready to talk about today?” she asked. You shook your head.

Alexis had been paired up with Caroline. They were both straight, but you had both been friends with her since freshman year and they got along well.

Today had just been the marriages, and next week you’d be learning more about your family dynamics.

“I’m just so pissed at him. This afternoon in senior art he told all the guys in there that he was going to make it as hard as possible for me. I mean jokes on him, he’s going to want to get an A too, but he was just so smug about it. He also strung his stupid ring on that necklace he’s always wearing. What’s that all about?”

“I mean you’re still wearing your ring. But yeah, that is a little weird.”

“I’m wearing mine because compared to some of the others, the star is actually cute.”

“True. I got unlucky with the selection,” Alexis admitted, digging hers out of her purse to show you a big square blue gem.

“I just wish there was a way to get back at him after all these years. I mean, we’ve been at each other’s throats for almost six years but nothing has ever seemed to really hit hard. This is the last year I’ve got to really make it count.”

Alexis gave you a look, one you knew to be quite mischievous.

“You know what’s the best way to get revenge on a guy?” Alexis asked.

“Uh, no, but by the look you’re giving me it seems to fall under Carrie Underwood ’before he cheats’ directive.”

“No, dumbass. You make his family fall in love with you.”

It took a second to process what she said before you could give a decent reply.

“You’re kidding right? His family already knows who I am because of all the stuff we’re in together. They probably also know about our rivalry. I mean, he’s told his brothers to never become friends with me.”

“And you know that, how?”

“The libero is Sam’s girlfriend. She’s been spilling tea for me for the past year.”

There was a break in the conversation as the waiter brought your meals out. Once he was gone, you spoke up again.

“Look, do you really think that would work? I mean sure I’d get under his skin, but it doesn’t really constitute revenge, does it?”

“Look at it this way,” Alexis put down her burger so she could splay her hands out in front of her. “If you can get on everyone else's good side, they’ll all talk about how much they love you and he’ll be forced to listen. If he really hates you, it’ll drive him crazy.”

You thought on it for a minute as you chomped on a chicken tender.

“Alright, I’m in. If it doesn’t end up working, I still have all of next semester to mess with him anyways. Now if I can just figure out how to really get to know his family…”

By the time Monday rolled around, you and Alexis had done some more scheming, but your plan wouldn’t even begin to be put in action until your volleyball games Wednesday and Friday, when you’d try to talk to Sam.

You sat down in home ec, where today you’d be picking careers. The catch, however, was that your family unit would have a set income, so each couple had to decide how it would be split up.

“Y/l/n-Holland family, you’ll be making $200k a year,” Mrs. Flynn announced, handing you the slip of paper. “Get together and decide who’s getting what jobs.”

“At least we’ll be rich,” you thought as Tom plopped into the seat next to you unhappily.

“So I’ll be the doctor and you’ll be the trophy wife, right?” he asked immediately.

“Hah, good one. I think we all know that I’m the smarter one here and wayyyy more likely to get into med school than you. And don’t call me trophy wife. I mean, what, you think I’m hot now? Can’t wait to tell everyone that little number.”

His ears turned beet red and he balled a fist.

“I don’t think you’re hot, except maybe hot shit. It’s a figure of speech.” he spat.

“Oh get over yourself. I know I’m hot anyways. Let’s just both pick jobs that earn $100k so we can be equal. How’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

He played with the plastic ring on his necklace as you looked up jobs on the computer. After a half hour of searching, Tom and you decided that to be fully equal, you’d both take the same job as physician’s assistants.

“Just so you know, I’ll never actually be anyone’s assistant,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Ten years time if you’re lucky I’ll hire you as mine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey everyone, since class is almost over, we’re gonna wait to draw how many kids you’ll have and other financial things Wednesday. See you then!” Mrs. Flynn called out as students packed their things.

“We have to have kids, too?” Tom asked incredulously.

“Good thing it’s fake. I’d hate to see you as a parent,” you shot smugly, earning another middle finger from him that left you laughing.

Wednesday came kids, and thankfully all you got were twin girls, age 9. The project didn’t make you carry around flour babies or anything like that, you just had to account for them in your weekly budgets.

There goes the annulment plan, though.

Each week, Mrs. Flynn would be drawing something new for you all that would either be good or bad for your budgets, and it was up to you to figure out what to with the funding, or lack thereof. You also had to come up with a story each week that explained why money was put somewhere or what your “family” did that week.

She would also be doing progress checks, so you couldn’t wait until the end of the semester to do all the work. By the end, each couple would have to give a presentation over what they did and learned.

“Okay, so we each get to name one. That’s pretty equal,” you stated, thinking up baby names.

“Well I like Elizabeth,” he almost immediately replied, writing it down on one of the “birth certificates” you’d been handed by Mrs. Flynn.

“That’s… surprisingly good. I’ll go with Francesca. What about middle names? I like Rose.”

“Hm. How about Opal? Then they’ll have the same number of letters in their names.”

You were surprised at how much though he put into this, but let it go as you wrote your child’s name down.

“By the way, we need to plan time to get together and write a budget and find a house this weekend. I have a volleyball game Friday so how about Saturday?”

“I have football practice Saturday.”

“Well yeah but only until like 10 right? We could just meet at like 1. We’re doing construction at my house right now so could we do it at yours?”

You spoke sweetly in an attempt to receive a yes and put your plan into motion. Tom sighed and thought about it.

“I mean I guess. But you’re only going to be there to work on the project and then leave right?”

“Uh, duh. The less time with you the better.”

“Likewise.”

Tom and Sam weren’t at the volleyball game Wednesday, so you had to wait until Friday’s.

Friday was muffin day in home ec, so you thankfully didn’t have to talk to Tom. Instead, you and Alexis discussed the plan of getting Tom’s family on your side as you mixed up batter.

Later that afternoon, you watched from afar as Sam and his girlfriend, Julia, sat on the bleachers speaking. It was still an hour until game time and coach had asked you to round up the girls for stretching.

“Hey, Jules!” you called, jogging over to where she was. “Oh, hey Sam!” He looked at you like you were crazy before responding.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He gave a slight head nod.

“Anyways, coach wants us to start warming up. Wanna be my partner today?”

“Um yeah. Sure. See ya later babe,” she said, giving Sam a quick peck on the cheek before standing up to follow you.

After another win, you were helping take down the net and noticed Julia once again talking to Sam while Tom stood a few feet away looking bored.

“Hey, could you wrap up the net? I need to do something real quick,” you said to another teammate as you headed over.

“Hey, Jules! Solid digs today! You were making my job way too easy,” you joked.

You could see from the corner of your eye Tom look up at you in annoyance.

“Ahaha thanks girl. But I can’t take all the credit. You were on fire tonight. What was that like 15 aces? And your hits? Incredible,” she replied.

“Yeah, you were amazing tonight,” Sam added.

“Ohhhkay we can stop the compliment parade on y/n now. We need to go anyways, Sam, mom wants us home,” Tom interjected, putting an arm out in front of his brother, who was rolling his eyes.

“Alright fine. We still on for dinner tomorrow?” Sam asked his girlfriend. She nodded and they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow too, Tom,” you said. “I’ll bring my laptop.”

Sam looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah whatever,” was all Tom could say to you as you strutted off to the locker room.

You stood nervously on the front porch of Tom’s suburban home. You had texted him when you parked but now dreaded actually going inside.

After shifting back and forth for a minute, you finally rang the doorbell.

It was only a few seconds later that the door opened, revealing Sam’s twin Harry. He looked confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Harry. Tom and I are supposed to be working on a school project today and he said to come over at this time so...” You awkwardly shifted your backpack straps and looked down.

“Tom! Someone’s here to see you!” he yelled out, making you snort.

He appeared shirtless in the doorway and looked at you blankly.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me? What did you just forget that we have to work on our project today,” you replied, holding up your left hand to point to the plastic ring on it.

“You’re still wearing that? Why?”

“Firstly, the little star is cute. And secondly, you don’t have a lot of room to speak, Tom. Yours is still on your necklace,” you pointed to the chain around his neck, to which he instinctively reached up and grabbed the ring, twisting it between his fingers.

“Touche. Now come on, let’s just get this over with.” He opened the door wider and let you in, locking it behind you.

As he led you down a hall covered in photos towards the stairs, his mom stepped out, almost running into her son.

“Oh, sorry.” she looked at you, “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Holland. Tom and I have to work on our home ec project and we couldn’t do it at my house.”

“Oh dear just call me Nikki. And I do remember him mentioning something about a project. Are you the one he’s married to? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tom tensed up and clenched his jaw while you gave a light chuckle, holding up your left hand again.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of me throughout the semester.”

“Well you kids have fun. And Tom, honey, would it kill you to put on a shirt?”

He went red again and you had to stifle your laughter.

“I was just on my way to do that, mom. Come on y/n,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up the stairs.

You turned and waved at Nikki one last time as she called up behind him,

“And make sure to keep the door open!”

He was totally embarrassed by that, and made it a point to shut the door behind him once you made it to his room. Finally you could let out a hearty laugh at his expense as he dug through his drawers and pulled out a simple black t-shirt.

“Finally. I was getting tired of looking at your man boobs,” you quipped, looking around the room.

“Ha ha. Good one,” he shot back dryly.

You were surprised at what his room looked like, though you didn’t know what you’d expected. It was very neat with sleek grey walls. His blue and grey bedding was made up with decorative pillows laid out. On his desk were a few random school papers and a computer, and one shelf held some Spider-Man paraphernalia while another contained medals and ribbons and trophies.

You dropped your backpack to the ground and pointed up at one figurine.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m serious. It’s actually really dope.”

He looked taken aback at your compliment, and even to you it felt weird to be saying that out loud about Tom of all people.

“Oh. Well uh. Thanks. Spider-Man was my favorite growing up. But let’s just get to work.”

After an hour of sitting on his carpet searching for a house and arguing over general money allocations,

“Yes Tom, tampons actually cost like $7 for 30 of them and most girls need at least one box a month. And that’s just one factor of personal hygiene. Do you even condition your hair?”

“I’ll have you know my hair is well moisturized. I just don’t ever have to pay for it.”

You finally came to an agreement on the week’s budget.

Packing up your things, you looked up at Tom who was now sitting on the side of his bed scrolling through social media.

“So next week. Your first game of the season, yeah?” you said, remembering that September was already almost here.

“Oh yeah. You coming? I’d hate for you to see just how incredible I am.”

“Psh whatever. I saw your throws at preseason. But yeah, I’ll probably just rinse off after my volleyball game and head to the field. Gotta see what cuties they’ve got on the other team.”

“Ugh gross. You know you’ll regret saying that when half the school is swooning over me in the stands.”

“The only thing you’d ever see me swoon from is dehydration. And that’s a pretty weak excuse already.”

You stood and Tom got up to lead you back out.

“Oh, I think I know the way. You don’t have to take me.”

“Yeah I do. Gotta keep my eyes on those grubby little fingers of yours. Who knows what you’d do unsupervised.”

Before you reached the door, Nikki spotted you from the living room.

“Done so soon? Wow, good job guys. Come back any time y/n!”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you called back to her, then turned to Tom. “So same time next week? We can do it at my place if you want.”

“Nah let’s just do it here. I’m always exhausted the day after a game and I don’t really want to get up.”

Okay then

“Well, see ya Monday then. Bye.”

You were halfway down the sidewalk when Tom called out, “Be safe,” before shutting the door. You stopped in your tracks in shock, but eventually got into your car.

What really mattered, though, was that you were already on Nikki’s good side.

1 down, 4 to go.

Yay! It’s finished! I really hope you guys enjoy this new series because I’m so excited to share it with you all! Once again, future chapters will have some mature content (s*xual harassment and mentions of assault; underaged alcohol consumption) but those chapters will be explicitly labeled with warnings.

Anyways, thanks for reading and please send an ask or message if you’d like to join my story or permanent tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #enemies to lovers #slow burn #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland au #high school!au #high school!tom holland

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jamielea81 · 5 years ago

Text

Conversations

Chapter 14

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: So much fluff. A few curse words.

Word Count: 6,435

A/N: And here it is, the final chapter of this series. Thank you to all of you who followed along, reblogged and encouraged me to keep writing. More Chris Evans series are to come. Special thanks to @panicfob who asked me if I ever thought about writing a series like this and @allaboutthebooz who told me about a Steve Rogers Disney series she was writing which in turn really got me into a Disney frame of mind. Please tell me what you thought of the series! There will be two one-shots that accompany this. One will be posted next month with the second posted in March. Stay tuned.

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with Chapter 13

In retrospect, moving to New England in the midst of winter probably wasn’t a wise choice. When you moved to Florida all those years ago it was during the summer. It appears your timing is never right. You’ve slipped on icy sidewalks more times than you can count as it seems no one is nice enough to salt and sand the sidewalks surrounding their houses and businesses. You haven’t quite mastered public transportation so you take your chances walking the snowy roads for coffee and grocery items. You’ve learned parking really is a hot commodity until you get of further into the suburbs. For now, you’ll take the extra steps on your health app as they continue to grow.

Speaking of timing, Chris wasn’t even in the state when the moving truck rolled into town. You knew he wouldn’t be and it was probably better that way. You weren’t moving in together, so adjusting to the change without him would only further help you adjust with being on your own. The only caveat to that is you were rarely alone. The Evans clan had seemingly adopted you without your consent. Surprisingly, you were enjoying your adopted Massachusetts family.

When Chris told Lisa about your thoughts on moving to Boston, she asked to speak to you before you went home to Florida during your visit in October. If you were nervous the first time you met her, you were in full panic mode this time. Chris telling his mother everything was something you would need to get used to. God forbid you two have a huge fight at some point and then have to see his mom shortly after. Nope, that wouldn’t be awkward at all.

Chris drove you over with Dodger in tow. The two of them played outside while Lisa fixed you a cup of coffee and essentially asked what your intensions with her son were.

“I’m thinking about moving here to give Chris and I a fighting chance. The distance is hard, Lisa. You probably already know this, but he has flown to Orlando to see me three times in the last month and a half. He’s already busy and this is only wearing him down more. I don’t want that.” You took a breath, ignoring your coffee completely. “I’m not one of those women who’s trying to weasel her way in to his life. Chris and I were friends first and if this whole thing goes to hell, I hope we’re still friends because I’m not giving him or Scott up.”

Lisa smiled, stood up, pulled you to your feet and hugged you. “I think everything is going to turn out just how it should,” she said.

You sighed in relief. “Thanks, Lisa.”

“You should come for Christmas!” she blurted out after releasing you.

You chuckled softly. “My mother would kill me if I didn’t go home to Minnesota.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that. Come the week after for New Year’s.” Before you could say no, she continued. “I insist.”

Looks like I’m going to Boston for New Years.

“Okay… We should probably check with Chris though.”

“Trust me, if you’re here, my son will be too.”

Christmas in Minnesota was interesting. A lot of the time was spent talking and explaining yourself. Your brother still wanted to kick Chris’ ass and you couldn’t blame him. The two of them hadn’t met and he was pissed when he saw those photos on TMZ. You made a mental note to get Chris and Heath together to bond. Heath didn’t know Chris like you did and he didn’t understand that the two of you had discussed your relationship at length and were committed to each other.

While your mother was sad that you had chosen not to move back home, she was happy for you and understood the need for a change. She teased you relentlessly about moving somewhere with a true winter. After graduating from college, you declared that you’d never live in a snowy state again. Now you had tentative plans with Lisa to apartment hunt next week.

Your father was another story. You weren’t above bribery so you took him to dinner at his favorite steakhouse. Hoping the appeal of an expensive cut of meat would put him in a cheery mood. It was Christmastime after all. His spirit should already be lighter.

When you changed jobs in October, you told him about it almost immediately. Gary didn’t appreciate being left in the dark. You never called him Gary to his face, but when you ever spoke about your dad to Jana, you referred to him as Gary much to her amusement. He wasn’t happy about the job change which was of no surprise to you. He didn’t understand why you would make a change when you had a great position with the paper. “This is just like you,” he had said. “You’re never settled.” It wasn’t a fair statement. You had been settled for years. Yes, you weren’t married and you didn’t own your own home, but you had a career and had been at the paper for years. You were well respected in your field. There was absolutely nothing wrong with moving on to a position that would bring you growth in your career as well as your personal life.

If you hadn’t broken the news about the move in a public space, there was no doubt in your mind that he would have stormed out.

“Why on earth would you move to Massachusetts? I thought Florida was where you wanted to plant roots. This is just like you.”

There he goes with that same line. You sighed loudly, poking at your steak with your fork. You lowered your face, refusing to meet his eyes. It was like your twelve years old again, dropping out of soccer only to be lectured by your father.

“When are you going to get your life together?” he asked.

You snapped, well, you snapped as much as you could in a restaurant full of people having a holiday meal.

“That’s exactly it. This is my life dad. I’m choosing to make a change that’s going to fulfill me personally,” you said sternly in a voice just a tad louder than a whisper. “And yes, it’s a big change and yes, it’s scary. But. But.” Picking up your glass of wine, you took a large gulp and set it back on the table. “This is what I need to do. If I’m going to fail, I will fail. But what if this turns out to be the best thing for me? I want you in my life to celebrate my successes, but I also need you if life chooses to spit me out.” Your dad leaned back in his chair, a tired expression on his face. “Can you just try to be here for me if I need you?”

“Of course, Y/N. I’m always going to be here. But I worry. What if you’re making a mistake?”

“Then it’s something I’ll learn from and I’ll just try again.”

The week of New Year’s you stayed with Chris. His home was now completely remodeled, so that was one less stressful thing in his life. It was gorgeous when it was half under construction, now it was beautiful enough to be featured in a magazine on home design. It wasn’t a mansion by any means, it was just a very nice, large, upper class, suburban home. Well, a suburban home with a state-of-the-art alarm system. The house was luxurious without being pretentious and you found it strange to feel so comfortable there.

Chris was flying out to Atlanta and then to Costa Rica for filming the day after you flew back home to Orlando. It was a stressful time for him but he made sure to tell you every night that just you being there was helping. Chris was also incredibly clingy the whole trip. You chalked it up to him wanting to spend as much time with you as possible and also the anxiety of starting up a new project. Especially one that would take him away from home for a couple of months.

Every day the two of you cuddled on the couch and spent nights tangled in the sheets. Chris had only been able to visit once in November, so the two of you were making up for lost time. It was your first Christmas together as a couple and you weren’t together for it. Both of you had Facetimed for hours after both your family parties had ended. It wasn’t quite the same, but falling asleep with your phone held close to your face was the next best thing.

“Celebrating the new year together is going to be way more magical than Christmas. Christmas is old news sweetheart,” he said the night before New Year’s Eve. Your lips so close together that you couldn’t help but lean forward bridging the gap in a soft kiss. “This year brought me you. Next year can only get better.”

Apartment hunting was not going well. Like, not at all. Any place that Lisa considered to be decent enough to stay in was well over your price range. Not just an extra hundred or two a month over your budget, but close to one thousand dollars over the monthly amount you wanted to spend. Lisa told you she would keep an eye out for listings and send them to you as she found them. This move was looking to be more difficult than you thought it would be. You hadn’t lived with a roommate since college, but if you wanted to live anywhere near Chris, a roommate is something you would have to get used to.

New Year’s Eve was probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time. Granted, you didn’t remember the whole night, but the majority of it was worth the headache in the morning.

Chris, Scott, Zach, Shanna, Carly and you had spent dinner at Lisa’s and played games with the kids until they went to bed after celebrating the New Year at eight that night. There was sparkling cider, confetti, and kisses from all the kids to bring in 2021. Chris had arranged a car to pick the two of you along with Zach and Scott up to take you to their friend Benji’s house for the rest of the evening. You weren’t entirely sure if that was really his name or if it was a nickname he picked up at some point. Regardless, Benji’s house was packed to the brim with people. Chris threw so many names at you as he moved his way through the house that you just started smiling and nodding. Hopefully you’d meet his closer friends in a much smaller and quieter setting in the future.

To say you were feeling quite shy was an understatement. Scott had talked you into buying a dress that was shorter than you felt comfortable with. Your butt was completely covered, but you usually didn’t show as much thigh as you were currently sporting. The gold number was long sleeved with a high neck that provided some warmth, but the back was cut low which added to the “sexy New Year’s vibe” as Scott called it. Scott dressed in a black suit and gold tie which was why he was adamant you buy the dress when you saw it in a shop window earlier in the week. Chris was another story. He didn’t want to dress up, opting to wear jeans and sweater that he later removed when he became too hot, leaving him in a plain black t-shirt. This is why Scott was your date for the night. Technically Scott and Zach were your dates for the night. More so Scott as the two of you coordinated. Chris had fun making a game of it by pulling you away from Scott several times over the night to kiss you in “secret” as he didn’t want your “date” to find out. It was cute and if you were being honest, kind of hot.

You didn’t want to get drunk. Wanting to remember the night was important to you not only because it was your first New Year’s with Chris, but because there were too many of his friends at this party. Giving off the impression of Chris’ drunk girlfriend wasn’t what you were aiming for, so you kept the drinking light. A couple of beers and you cut yourself off. You grabbed a plastic cup and dumped a bottle of water into. It was a trick you used to do in college when you didn’t want to get pestered about not drinking.

“Y/N! Sassy!” Scott called from the across the room.

“My date needs me,” you teased Chris.

His smirk said it all. You turned away from him and he promptly squeezed your ass. You chased his hand away with yours but laughed at his advances.

“Grumpy, what can I do for you?” you asked.

“This my dear, is Nicolette. Nicolette, this is Y/N,” he said, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you closer.

You stuck your free hand out for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” she replied.

“So, Nicolette here needs a roommate,” Scott spoke, wiggling his eyebrows. “And since I know both of you, I know the two of you would get along.”

Taken aback by the sudden suggestion, you were sure your face looked somewhat shocked. You trusted Scott and you knew he wouldn’t set you up with a crazy person.

Nicolette laughed. “It’s true. I have a room available after my last roommate got married and ditched me. It’s a two-bedroom house with two bathrooms. I’m barely home, so it’s really kind of a house-sitting slash roommate situation.”

Now she had your interest.

“She’s a stage actress,” Scott said dramatically which causes Nicolette to roll her eyes. “She does a lot of traveling shows.”

“If you have time tomorrow, you can stop by and check it out,” she offered.

“Yeah. That would actually be great,” you replied.

The two of you exchanged numbers and Scott pulled you away shortly after, bringing you back to your boyfriend. “I got you girl!”

At midnight, Chris held you close with his chest pressed against your back and arms around your front. Benji stood on top of his pool table, large oversized wall clock in his hand calling out the last few seconds of 2020. Just as he shouted happy new year, Chris spun you around and kissed you, deep and slow. It went on for quite awhile as Scott eventually had the pull both of you apart.

The night was a blur from that moment on. You got dragged into a game of beer pong which later turned into four games of beer pong despite your objections of not being a great player. Scott and Chris passed you back and forth as their partner. The end result was always the same, you having to drink several of the cups with floating Ping-Pong balls inside.

The car service is called by someone, you’re just not quite sure who. All you remember is being pushed into the car and then out of it. Chris and you make it inside but don’t get further than his couch where you promptly push him onto it and straddle his thighs. The 2021 version of you is apparently very horny as you take control of the early morning hours of January first. The button of his jeans is popped open with the zipper quickly pulled down while your gold dress is pushed up over your ass. He’s all consuming and very eager for you to take control.

Chris kisses you like it’s the last time from the short-term parking ramp a couple of days later. Tears flow easily from your eyes as you say your goodbyes. He leaves for Atlanta tomorrow for stage shoots then on to Costa Rica. There are no planned visits between you as per his manager and assistant, there just isn’t time. He’s not set to be back state side until March. It’ll be a long three months that just happens to coincide with big changes for you.

Chris wipes your tears away with one hand while the other cradles your faces.

“Don’t cry sweetheart,” he murmurs, bringing his lips to yours in a short soft kiss.

“Why? Cause it makes your cry?” you asked, nose already stuffy from your tears.

He chuckles and blinks away his tears.

“No,” he said softly, licking his lips. “Cause I love you.”

Chris loves you. Chris loves you. You’ve felt it. You’ve been saying it in your head since Thanksgiving, but haven’t been able to say the words out loud. With your gloved hands, you pull his face to yours and kiss him. Pulling back, you rip off your gloves and drop them to the cold cement ground before grabbing his cheeks once more. The kiss is hungry and needy. You’re both out of breath when you part.

“I love you too. God, do I love you.”

Chris smiled softly, giving your nose a kiss. “I’m going to call you every day.”

“Babe…” you sigh out. “We both know that may not happen. You’re going to have days where your exhausted or have late shoots. Just-Just call me when you can. It’s going to be hard and it’s probably going to kill me, but when you’re back, we’ll be in the same state,” you smiled. “We’re only like forty minutes away from each other rather than a three hour plane ride.”

“We’ll make it work. I love you so much,” he said, kissing you again. “Call me when you land.”

You nodded, kissed him once more then walked to the terminal.

Carly was calling you for the second time that day. Her first message was asking about getting together for lunch. You weren’t trying to avoid her, but you had been starring at the same blank page for three hours. The deadline for your story on a protest that took place over college campuses across the US this morning needed to be submitted within the next two hours. Your head wasn’t in the game, so despite Carly calling twice, and Scott once, you were tempted to put your phone on silent. Chris had been MIA for two days now. He had kept to his promise of calling you daily over the last three months, even if it were just ten minutes to check in. You were trying to not let it bother you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. Production was delayed by two weeks keeping him in Costa Rica longer than expected. You’d been in Boston since the end of January and it was now the first week of April.

You shot Carly a text telling her that you were busy with work.

Y/N: Lunch tomorrow?

Carly: Of course. Good luck!

Nicolette was on the road working on a production of Aladdin, so you had the house to yourself. They were set to perform in Boston in May and she had promised you tickets. A perk of knowing one of the stars of the show. She was rarely home so it really was like living on your own with someone else’s furniture. You had donated or sold everything except for your bedroom set since you didn’t want to pay for storage and you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d be living with Nicolette. When you eventually moved out on your own, you’d have to start new, but that wasn’t anything to worry about now.

An hour later you were almost done with the article after turning on your “get shit done” playlist as you so perfectly named it. After proofreading it for the third time and two key strokes away from submitting it to your editor, there was a knock on your door. Despite living in the city for more than two months, you didn’t know anyone outside of the Evans family plus a few friends you’ve met through Scott and Shanna, but they generally didn’t show up unannounced. You chose to ignore it, assuming it was someone selling something or another for the scouts or a representative from a church wanting to spread the word of God. But the knocking wouldn’t stop. It was persistent and loud. You almost dove under your desk to hide, despite the shades in your room being drawn. After what felt like five straight minutes of knocking, you left the safe comforts of your room and walked to the front door. The sooner you answered, the sooner they would go away and you could take that nap after submitting the article.

Lifting a corner of the curtain on the living room curtain as inconspicuously as possible to see who it was, you audibly squealed and ran to the door. Throwing it open you screamed again much to Chris’ amusement.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Hello to you too sweetheart,” he chuckled, throwing his arms around you and pulling you close. Neither of you are saying anything, just enjoying holding each other. You snuggle your nose in the crock of his neck, breathing in everything that is Chris. One hand traveled up the back of his neck to his hair. The strands are longer and you can’t wait to play with them later.

“Missed you,” you murmur into his neck.

“Missed you so much, Y/N,” he replied, kissing your temple. “Can I come in?” he said with a soft smile.

“Oh my gosh, of course,” you can’t help but giggle out.

The next fifty minutes are spent christening your bed more than once, even though the two of you have had sex on your bed before. To Chris’ point, this is the first time he’s “banged” you on your bed in Massachusetts. His words, not yours.

With your face pressed against his chest, your fingers draw shapes through the hairs on his stomach. “I like the longer hair. It’s kind of sexy in a nineteen eighties kind of way.” Chris hums. “Maybe you should keep it.” You lift your head up to catch his expression. He’s smirking but shakes his head. “I’m serious. It’s kind of like how you had it in Red Sea Diving Resort. The ladies really dig it.”

His hand that was rubbing your back starts to dig into your sides until you can barely breathe as you’re laughing so hard. “The only” *tickle “lady” tickle* “that I’m” *tickle “trying to” tickle* “impress” tickle* “is you!”

“Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!” you shout until he finally ends his attack.

Chris pulls you back close and kisses your lips. “I never want to go that long without seeing you again.”

“I agree. I’ll live in your rental car on location if I have to.” He kisses your temple in reply. “M’happy you’re here, but I wasn’t expecting you for another week.”

“We pushed through. Long hours to finish up, but it was worth it. I love you so much sweetheart.”

You sit up until your seated on your bottom. Raking your fingers through his hair, you look him in his eyes. “I love you too. I’m so happy you’re home and I can’t believe we are living in the same state.”

“Same city practically.”

You nod in agreement, pushing a strand that has fallen over his forehead back. “I’m also glad Nicolette’s out of town.” Chris chuckles and closes his eyes. “You tired baby?”

“Yeah, had an early flight and then a long layover. Mind if I nap?”

“Course not. I’ve actually…Oh shit! I have an article I haven’t sent in yet!” You jump out of the bed, looking for something to throw on. You pick up Chris’ undershirt and slip it over your head. You hop back in the bed and give him a kiss before returning to your desk a few feet away and hit send. “I forgot to hit send before I answered the door.” You swivel in the chair to face him, point your finger at him. “You sir, are a distraction.”

“A damn good one,” he said so casually. Chris pats the empty spot on the bed. “Come nap with me.”

“Can’t refuse you.”

Spring turns into summer in no time at all. Chris spends more time in Boston than he does in Los Angeles. He told you that from the beginning, but with how much he works, you didn’t expect him to be home as much as he has been. When he is gone, it’s only for a few days. Despite having a roommate that is never home, most of your nights are spent at Chris’ places.

“Dodger misses you. He likes when you sleep in bed with us.”

“Oh, so it’s Dodger that misses me. Not you Mr. Evans?”

“Nope. It’s all Dodger. I just can’t take the whining. Promised I’d call you.”

“You’re such a brat,” you groan.

“You love me. Plus, my bed is bigger. It’s too much of a squeeze if I bring Dodger to yours. Cah’mon,” he groaned. “You know you want to.”

“Fine. Fine. I’m only coming over for Dodger though.”

When you arrive at Chris’ place and let yourself in because he insisted you have a key, you see the lights are dimmed and candles are lit throughout the living room.

“Babe?” you called out. Passing through the living room and into the kitchen. You see a couple of pans on the stove simmering away, but no Chris. You walk up the stairs towards the bedroom, pushing open the door. “Babe?” you called out again.

Chris is standing in front of the bed while Dodger lays on it. More lit candles are scattered on the dresser and night stands.

“Hi Beautiful,” he said, stepping forward and grasping your hands.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

“Happy anniversary.”

“It’s our anniversary?” you asked, head titled to the side.

“To me it is.” He took a big breath and smiled. “Now, I know we had a rough start, but on this day, one year ago, I knew I was head over heels for you. Technically, I’d say our anniversary was back in May. That’s when we started talking a lot more and of course that’s the month we first kissed. But it was July when I knew I could never go back to being just friends. It was July when I knew that I needed to hear your voice every day. It was on this day in July that I knew we were going to be something special.” Your breath was stolen from your lungs as cliché as that sounds. “I love you baby.”

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, a few landing on your lips as you couldn’t contain the sappy grin on your face. You grabbed his face with both hands, smooshing his cheeks. “I love you, you crazy, wonderful man. Happy anniversary.”

Compromises were made as Chris dragged you to Red Sox games in the early fall and then to Patriot games in the early winter. You were forever a Twins and Vikings fan, even though they broke your heart every year. You played nice, accepting the jerseys he gifted you for both teams. The two of you flew to Minnesota to meet your family in late September. Heath and Chris attended a Twins game together as a truce in the new found friendship they were working on. They weren’t best friends, but you hoped they would grow closer. When the Vikings played on Sundays, Chris watched with you so long as it didn’t cut into his Pats’ games, but he refused to wear a Vikings jersey. The funny thing was, you rarely watched football or baseball, but found yourself getting really into it the more you played along with the non-existent rivalry.

In October you flew to Florida to cover Magic Kingdom’s fiftieth anniversary. Chris was off on a press tour on the other side of the country. You extended your stay since Chris wouldn’t be back for another week, opting to stay with Jana and Brooks rather than a hotel. The biggest surprise was Jana’s small baby bump.

“I’m going to be Auntie Y/N?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“You bet your ass you are,” she said, tears in her eyes as well. “Way to make a pregnant woman cry.”

You pulled her into a hug. “Shush. And you should clean up that mouth before the baby gets here,” you snorted.

By the time you got back to Massachusetts, you had a week and a half reprieve before you were flying back into Orlando with the majority of the Evans crew for their annual Disney vacation. Lisa had invited you herself before Chris even got around to asking you. He later said he wasn’t going to ask because you had no choice in the matter.

“I can’t believe I’m going back as an actual tourist,” you whined to him on the plane.

“You were just there!”

“That was for work. Doesn’t count. I don’t even have my annual pass anymore. What is this bizarro world?”

“So dramatic. Should really be an actress,” he said, nudging you with his elbow.

The trip was great despite the long days in the park. It was a treat to have a Disney Cast Member leading your group around for most of the trip. It sure cut back on the time you usually stood in line.

The downside of the trip were the pictures that were posted online of you and Chris. The two of you did your best not to touch when out in public places, but you both found that hard. Chris would often place his hand on your back leading you from one spot to another. Even though you often sat with Scott or Carly on several of the rides, the ones where you sat with Chris were the ones that were posted. It didn’t take fans long to recognize that you were the same girl pictured with him two years before. Taking Chris’ advise, you didn’t read the comments online and avoided Twitter like the plague. Chris said you both needed to go on like you had been. If you both kept your relationship private, people would eventually lose interest. And they did for the most part.

Christmas was spent in Boston with the Evans family. You bargained with your mother for the week after Christmas and she agreed much to your surprise.

Despite Lisa’s insistence that you and Chris spend the night at her house Christmas Eve, Chris wasn’t having it. He wanted to go home after gift opening and spend it with just the two of you.

You barely made it in the door before Chris was wrapping you in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked with a laugh.

He kissed your cheek. His warm breath tickled your nose, causing you to hunch, lowering your head and burying it in his chest.

“Move in with me.”

Huh?

He said is so casually as if he’s asking if you want a glass of water.

You pull your face away from his body and hold him at arm’s length. “You wanna say that again?”

“Move in with me. I want you to live here. I can’t handle Dodger askin’ every day.”

“Oh! So, it’s Dodger,” you said, poking his chest. Upon hearing his name, Dodger got up from the couch and came to stand next to you, his butt bumping against your leg. “I’m sorry Bubba, but I can’t move in. It seems that only one of the Evans boys that live here want me to move in. I need a unanimous vote.”

“Cah’mon. Don’t break his heart like that. He said you give the best belly rubs and frankly I can’t compete,” Chris said crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know,” you said, finger tapping against your chin in thought.

“Fine…” Chris dramatically sighed out, rolling his eyes. “You have my vote too. Move in with us.”

You bend down to give Dodger a belly rub, avoiding Chris’ eyes. “Nah.”

“What?!” Chris shouts causing Dodger to get back on his feet and you to fall on your ass. You erupt in giggles. Dodger walks circles around you, tail wagging excitedly.

“You turnin’ me down? Is that’s what’s happenin’ sweetheart?” He drops to his knees in front of you, resting on his hunches. The laughs die out on your breath and you slowly start to breathe normally again.

“Ask me again,” you whispered.

One hand rested on his thigh, while the other runs through your hair taming the pieces that have fallen in your eyes. “Will you move in with me?”

You nod your head slowly. “Yes,” you answer simply enough.

“Yes?” he asked, big smile slowly forming on his face.

“Yes,” you repeat. You let out a big huff of air. “Now, take me to our bedroom.”

Before you’re even fully awake, your phone is buzzing like crazy Christmas morning. Reaching blindly to the night stand since Chris has extreme blackout curtains on the windows, you couldn’t see your phone if you tried. Technically, they were your curtains now.

Scott: It’s already been 9 hours and you haven’t called me about you livin’ in sin with my brother

Scott: Get dressed and come to breakfast at Ma’s

Scott: That’s an order

Chris had one arm resting over his eyes with the blanket pushed down to his waist. You turned to face him, kissing his bare chest until he starts to stir.

“How does Scott know I’m moving in?” you asked with a coyness in your voice.

Chris chuckles. His mouth full of sleep and his arm still resting over his eyes. “I sorta texted him when you were changing for bed.”

“You’re a brat. He texted me at seven this morning bitching that I didn’t tell him yet.”

“Sorry,” Chris said, removing his arm from his head and turning to his side to look at you.

“No, you’re not,” you scoffed.

He chuckled again, pulling you into his chest. “No, I’m not.

“Hey babe,” you shouted through the open door.

One of the guest bedrooms was turned into your office a month ago and you were still decorating slowly but surely. Chris wasn’t allowing you to pay rent which ensued into a big argument. He ultimately caved some with you paying for the lawn care as well as Dodger’s food. It was still no where near the price of rent you were paying at Nicolette’s, but you would take what you could get for now. You often did all the grocery shopping when Chris wasn’t home so he couldn’t object to you paying. With extra funds in hand, what wasn’t going into the bank you splurged on nice office furniture and some vintage Minnesota Twins pennants to hang on the wall.

“Yes, my love?” Chris said, standing in the doorway.

“Can you help me hang these?” You lifted two of the pennants, one in each hand and gave him a cheesy smile. “Please.”

“You’re killing me babe. You know how bad this makes me look? The Twins?” he scoffed.

“It’s my office. We can keep the door closed when we have company. You’ll live.”

He gave you a wet kiss on your forehead, grabbing one of the pennants from your hand. With your hand free, you wiped at your forehead and stuck your tongue out at him.

Scott had kept you busy all day with what he dubbed “Best Friend’s Day”.

It started with brunch, then on to shopping where you spent entirely too much on wool peacoat. You both got a hot stone massage followed by hot donuts from a shop you frequented before he dropped you back at your place.

“Tell Chris he owes me,” Scott said just as you shut the passenger door.

“He owes you?” you questioned. But it fell on deaf ears as Scott waved and drove away. “Why are my friends so weird?”

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside calling out to Chris.

“In here babe!” he shouted back.

Making your way to the office where you were certain you heard his voice, you saw that the door was partially closed.

That’s weird.

“Are you in my office?” you questioned just outside the door.

“Yes, now get your butt in here.”

Pushing the door open, you see Chris sitting on one of the two brown leather club chairs you had situated on the other side of your desk. On the wall above his head is a huge Red Sox logo that has to be at least three feet across. On the wall next to the window is a framed signed Tom Brady jersey.

“Welcome home sweetheart. I added some more décor to your office. Do you like it?” He’s got a huge grin on his face with his eyebrows raised.

“You are something else,” you said, shaking your head as you walk across the room taking a seat at your desk.

Chris gets up from the chair and strolls over to your desk taking a seat on it and facing you. “Something good?”

“Hmm. Not so sure about that babe. Is this what Scott owes you for? Was Best Friend’s Day a ploy to get me out of the house?”

He scratches the top of his head. “M’fraid I don’t know what you’re taklin’ about.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” You sit up slightly and grab on to the neck hole of his t-shirt, pulling him to you. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He kisses your lips and pulls back to look you in the eyes, despite your hand still firmly holding his shirt.

“I love you,” he said softly. He kissed your nose then each of your cheeks.

“I know,” you replied, letting go of his shirt and opening up your laptop.

“Did you-did you just Han Solo me?” he chuckled.

You looked up from the screen, a small smile playing on your lips. “You bet your sweet ass I did.”

“You’re gonna get it. You are so gonna get it,” he threatened. You shut the laptop and pushed back on your chair. “You better run!”

You were out of your seat as fast as you could, squeals of laughter spilling from your lips as Chris chased you through the first floor and up the stairs. “I love you!” you screamed between laughs. “I love you!”

“Damn right,” he said tackling you onto the bed you shared.

The End

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robinrunsfiction · 4 years ago

Text

I See Stars

Pairing: Teacher!Gerard Way x Teacher!Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: None Word Count: ~6,000 Author’s Note: A few things about this story. First, this is one of the stories where the moodboard came before the story. Second, I specifically chose to name the school what I did because there is an actual school named that and I know it because my Dad went there when he was a kid, not just because of the song, but it does work on that level too. Third, the story and the title were inspired by the song Starz by Ben Kweller which you should listen to sometime if you haven’t before, like on repeat while reading this. Lastly, this is just really fluffy. Like... that’s it. I’m not kidding. There is no twist, I’m being 100% honest with you. Life is hard enough lately, let’s just be happy and read some damn fluff yes? Yes, ok enjoy.

"I would like to welcome everyone back for what is sure to be another successful year at Our Lady of Sorrows Academy," Headmaster O’Connor announced from his place behind the podium.

(YN) looked around the auditorium excitedly, taking in the way the teachers seemed to be grouped together. Most of the faculty seemed like they were older, probably working here for many years, but she did spot a couple of others that seemed to be about her age. She wished she hadn't been so early so she would have had an excuse to sit by them as they seemed very friendly with each other, and she was hoping to meet new potential friends.

“I’m happy to welcome some new staff this year. Barb Jones will be teaching algebra,” an older woman stood up and gave a wave. “And (YFN) (YLN) is joining the English department,” the headmaster announced. (YN) stood as well and smiled, hoping that she was making a good first impression. She'd been hired on to replace a teacher who had retired at the end of the last school year and she realized that this probably meant she had large shoes to fill, but the challenge excited her and she was beyond excited for the increase in pay and prestige that came with teaching at a private preparatory school with a stellar reputation like OLSA.

After a few more introductions and a bit of a pep talk from the Headmaster regarding expectations and achievement, the teachers were dismissed to their classrooms before the departmental meetings began. (YN) found her room near the front of the building and before opening the door, she took a deep breath and realized that she had finally made it, she had her own classroom full of possibilities. Not a space to share with other teachers who would rearrange the desks, or fill the drawers with empty pens and dried out markers, and put up stupid posters that would ultimately get vandalized.

She opened the door and took in the room. The walls and two tall bookshelves were bare, waiting to be filled, and the desks were in neat rows. She went to the windows that looked out on the tree lined street and smiled thinking about how the leaves would glow when autumn settled in. She walked around to the desk in the front of the room and ran her hands over the smooth, cool wood. She sat down into the chair and spun around in it while giggling with delight until she heard voices coming down the hall and she stopped and straightened up.

She couldn’t wait for the new school year to begin.

(YN) had never felt so relieved to hear the lunch bell ring.

As the students filed out of the classroom, she sank down into her desk chair and held her throbbing head in her hands. The first day wasn’t supposed to be like this. She expected some of the students would be excited and maybe some would be bored or irritated that summer was over, but instead they were aggressive about the curriculum, asking questions she wasn’t prepared for and pulling no punches. After a deep breath, she grabbed her bag, got up, and started walking in the opposite direction of the noisy cafeteria.

Eventually she found herself in a stairwell and decided to go up. When she opened the door at the top of the stairs, she was blinded by the bright sunlight of the early September afternoon. She blinked a few times before propping the door open with her bag, and sat against the brick wall. The noise of the city just beyond the walls of the building was loud as it always was, but it felt less imposing than the noise of the students confined within the school below her. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, centering herself. For a moment she finally felt just a little relaxed.

"What are you doing up here?"

(YN)'s eyes snapped open. Standing over her was another teacher, hand on one hip, coffee in the other. "Sorry, I just needed some quiet, I didn't-" she apologized as she scrambled to her feet.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” He laughed. “I just didn’t expect anyone else to be here, it’s been my secret getaway since I started working here,” he said sitting down next to where she had been, leaning against the wall. (YN) didn’t know if he expected her to leave him alone until she realized he was smiling up at her and patting the ground next to where he was sitting. “I’m Gerard Way, I’m in the art department. You’re (YN), right? The new English teacher?”

“Yep, that’s me,” (YN) nodded, relaxing a little as she sat down.

“So what brings you up here?”

“I’ve got a massive headache. I thought I was prepared for the first day, but the environment here is so much more overwhelming than my old school. These kids are…”

“Intense?”

“Yes! That’s exactly it!”

Gerard laughed. “Yea, that’s what happens when most of the students are expected to get into the Ivy League.”

“At least I can brace for the afternoon,” (YN) sighed. “How long have you been working here?”

“A couple years. I never felt like I fit in with a staff until I started here, which is strange given that it’s such a traditional environment, but I’ve met two of my closest friends working here.”

“Who are they?”

“Ray in the music department and Frank, he teaches political science and social studies.”

“Oh yea, I think I’ve seen them at one meeting or the other.”

“They’re good guys,”Gerard nodded before glancing down at his watch. “I hope your headache is better, the lunch hour is almost over.”

(YN) nodded and stood up. “Thanks for not kicking me out of your secret hideaway.”

“Feel free to come up here anytime,” Gerard replied as he got to his feet as well. He held the door open for (YN) as she picked up her bag.

“Maybe I will,” she nodded as she waved and headed off to her classroom.

The afternoon went by a bit more smoothly than the morning had. The last class of the day had been dismissed and (YN) let out a sigh of relief when there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me, Ms. (YLN). do you have a minute?”

(YN) looked up and saw one of her sophomore students at the door. “Yes, how can I help you Sadie?”

“Well there are a lot of academic organizations and sports teams, but I want to start a new club, so my college applications can be more well-rounded, and we need an advisor.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“A creative writing club. I have a few friends who are interested, but we don’t have a formal organization yet. Would you be willing to supervise it?” Sadie asked pleadingly.

“Sure! That sounds like a really good idea. When would you like to have the first meeting?”

“Can we start next Tuesday after school? I can make fliers tonight.”

“That works for me. I’m honored you want me to help.”

“You were my first choice,” Sadie smiled. “I can tell you’re kind of nerdy, like me.”

(YN) laughed lightly. “Well, I can’t argue with you on that.”

“Own it,” Sadie grinned. “Anyway, thanks Ms. (YLN), I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said before hurrying out. (YN) shook her head and smiled. It had been a long day, but this was exactly what made teaching worth it in the end.

It was a few weeks into the school year when Gerard was called for a meeting with Headmaster O'Connor.

“Mr. Way, I’ve given you a bit of leeway regarding the expectations of instructors here, but in the interest of fairness to the rest of the faculty, I must insist that you start meeting the standards of your employment as a teacher at OLSA that have been neglected,” Headmaster O’Connor explained.

Gerard sat up straighter in the chair and cleared his throat. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s expected that all faculty advise at least one club or team.”

“Oh, Ray and Frank are running the music club, right? I’ll help with that.”

“No, we limit the number of advisors per organization to two so that there is a good balance throughout the school and no club has to go without, or we have an organization with more adults than students. You’ll need to find something else. Also you might find yourself spending more time volunteering at things like sporting events, it will only help you in the long run around here.”

“I’m not the sporting event type,” Gerard clarified.

“Fine, social events then. We just do not want these tasks to fall on some of our other already overburdened staff.”

“So someone complained I wasn’t pulling my weight?” Gerard smirked.

Headmaster O’Connor chuckled and shook his head. “Gerard, I like you, that’s why I hired you. You’re a much needed breath of fresh air in this school. But yes, some of our more senior staff think that maybe you are due to be pulling a bit more weight.”

Gerard sighed. “Ok, I’ll see what I can do.”

The next night Gerard had stayed late hanging up the first art projects the students had completed in the small school gallery. As he walked down the hall toward the front entrance to leave, he thought he heard music despite the late hour. He turned down the corridor and saw the lights were on in the room where the music was coming from. He peeked in the door and couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face when he saw it was (YN), straightening up the classroom as she softly sang along to the song. He knocked on the door frame and she whipped around.

“Gerard, hey! You’re really good at startling me,” she laughed.

“Sorry,” he realized that it wasn't the first time he had done that and felt himself blush. “I was just wondering what you’re still doing here?”

“I’m advising the creative writing club.”

Gerard’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn’t even know we had a creative writing club, that’s cool. I’ve been writing and drawing my own comic books for a long time now.”

“Seriously? That’s really interesting! We just started the club a couple weeks ago, so please feel free to drop by our next meeting.”

“Tuesday after school?”

“Yep,” she smiled.

Gerard nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve recently been informed by Headmaster O'Connor that I should be advising a club.”

“Even better! Different creative perspectives would be great for the students,” she said turning off the music and gathering her jacket and her bag. “Ya know, I’ve always wanted to get into comic books, but I just don’t know where to start. There are so many, it’s kinda overwhelming.”

“I could bring you a few from my collection and you could try,” he offered as they walked out of the school.

“I’d appreciate it! Well, I’m going this way,” she said nodding down the street as the sun began to set, illuminating them in a warm orange glow.

“I’m going this way,” he pointed the opposite direction.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she smiled and waved. Gerard waved and watched her head up the street for a minute before he turned to head home.

The fall semester seemed to be flying by and (YN) was adjusting well to the new school, but the highlight of each week was definitely the creative writing club meetings. The small group of students were fantastic writers, bringing both short stories and poetry for the other students to listen to and offer advice and critiques. (YN) also found that she enjoyed the time she got to spend with Gerard. As promised, he started bringing her comics to read and she devoured each one so they could spend time after the students left discussing the characters and plots.

It was late fall when the faculty of OLSA sat in the auditorium for their biweekly meeting. Gerard found himself tuning in and out of the meeting because as an art teacher, a lot of what was being discussed didn’t apply to him. Then one of the history teachers got up and started talking about organizing the winter formal that was in a couple weeks, catching Gerard’s attention.

“With the students’ help, we have the DJ booked, and decorations and refreshments planned, but what we really need are a couple more chaperones.”

“I’ll do it,” Gerard spoke up, causing both Ray and Frank to look at him like he grew two heads. But he didn’t notice as he was trying to see if (YN) had heard. To his relief she was looking over with a smile on her face.

“Oh, great! Thank you Gerard,” the history teacher replied.

“Are you seriously going to chaperone a dance?” Ray asked as they walked down the hall after the meeting was over.

“Yea, well O’Connor was on me to help out around here more,” Gerard shrugged.

“And it has nothing to do with the new English teacher? What’s her name again?” Frank chided.

“(YN) and I don’t even know if she’s gonna be there,” Gerard countered.

“I bet she will be, she’s always volunteering to help out. She seems really nice.” Ray nodded before heading off to the music wing.

“Lucky you then,” Frank flashed a wicked grin at Gerard before heading up the stairs to his classroom. Gerard just shook his head and made his way to his own classroom for the start of the day.

(YN) walked into the gym as the DJ was finishing setting up his equipment. The lights in the gym had been turned off and the room was illuminated by strand after strand of fairy lights, like stars in the night sky.

"Hey," she heard someone say behind her. She turned to find Gerard, dressed especially nicely for the event in a well fitting suit.

"Hey, you look nice!" She greeted him with a smile.

"You too," he replied. He seemed a little in awe and she was glad the lights were dim, as she knew she was blushing.

"So what do we need to do?" Gerard asked after a moment of silence hung between them.

"Haven't you chaperoned a dance before?" She asked. Gerard shook his head in reply. "Well, if it's anything like my old school, when the students start arriving, we just make sure they don't spike the punch, or get in any fights, or dance too inappropriately."

"Oh, yea, that makes sense," he nodded, feeling slightly foolish for even having asked.

Soon the DJ started playing and students began trickling in. They mostly stuck to the walls, huddled together, glancing across the room at other groups doing the same. But then as more and more kids started to arrive, the dance floor began to fill up and the night got into full swing. (YN) and Gerard watched the crowd from the edges along with the other faculty that volunteered to be there and thankfully everyone seemed to be on good behavior, making their jobs easy.

After many fast songs, the DJ finally switched to a slow ballad. (YN) watched fondly as the students paired off. It reminded her of the dances she went to when she was in high school and all the good memories that she had there. That was part of the reason why she wanted to become a teacher; because even though those years can be difficult, she knew they could also be so important and rewarding.

"Do you wanna dance?" Gerard asked, pulling (YN) out of her thoughts.

"Oh, sure," she nodded.

He placed one hand on her waist and took her hand in the other. She placed her free hand on his arm and looked up at him as they started to sway to the music. Her heart was pounding and she was glad they were keeping a safe distance apart so he wouldn't notice it.

(YN) really liked being around Gerard, she was glad he had found his way to her classroom and started helping with her club. He was so easy to talk to, and she looked forward to running into him every day whether in the hallways or up on the roof. But now under the twinkling lights, it was like she was finally hearing her heart for the first time. She didn’t just like Gerard as a friend, she realized she had a full blown crush on him. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her fondly causing her cheeks to burn red again.

It was far too soon when the song ended, but they lingered hand in hand, searching each other's eyes for some kind of sign. Suddenly there was a shriek across the gym and they both looked over to see two boys shoving each other.

“Sorry,” Gerard said before hurrying across the gym to help break up the scuffle.

(YN) sighed. She had to remember that dating a coworker could be totally against the rules, she never had reason to check the employee handbook to find out. And if things went wrong she’d still have to see him every day. She knew she’d be better off just pushing her feelings aside, but that didn’t change the fact that they were there.

“Hey Ms. (YLN)?”

“Yes Sadie?” (YN) addressed her student as the others filed out of the room after the first class back from winter break.

Sadie glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. “Are you and Mr. Way dating?"

(YN)'s eyes went wide. "No! Why would you think that?"

"I dunno, I was thinking about it over break and it just seems like there’s something between you two at the writing club meetings and you'd be like super cute together! I bet you're dating by the end of the year, if not married, before I graduate!"

"Sadie, you can't ship your teachers, it's not appropriate."

"You know about shipping?"

"The internet was around 10 years ago when I was your age ya know," (YN) replied snidely.

"Well, you should at least consider it because it'd be really cute," she grinned before turning and hurrying out of the room.

(YN) sat back in her chair and let out a sigh. She had considered it, she considered it almost every day since the dance, and she couldn't help but wonder if he had too. She opened her desk drawer and started digging. Finally she found the binder she was looking for and turned to the index. Not finding the topic of interest she started flipping through, skimming page after page, excitement and nerves growing. Finally she reached the end and then went back through again. After a third check she shut the binder with a grin.

"Any plans for the night?" Gerard asked as they walked out of the building that evening. After the last class of the day he had come to her classroom to talk about the latest comics he had lent her.

"No, but umm, do you maybe wanna go get dinner?" (YN) asked, her eyes hopeful.

A grin spread across Gerard's face. "Yea, that would be great."

"There's a deli a couple blocks over I really like," she suggested.

"Let's go," he smiled, shifting his bag up his shoulder and adjusting his scarf against the cold January wind.

"I guess I never asked, but do you live close?" (YN) asked.

"I live in Jersey with my little brother Mikey," Gerard explained.

"Oh, doesn't the commute get long?"

"It's not bad. Gives me time to listen to music and read, whatever," he shrugged. “Are you nearby?”

"Yea, I live with a roommate a few blocks up."

“Are you from the city originally?” Gerard asked

“No, I moved here after college, you?”

“Again, Jersey,” Gerard chuckled.

They continued chatting until they arrived at the diner. (YN) was relieved that their evening was going as well as she hoped it would. Maybe Gerard just liked her as a friend, but that didn’t change the fact that she was having fun spending time with him. After their meal was finished, they walked back into the cold night air, but neither made a move to leave.

“I really enjoyed hanging out with you outside of work,” Gerard said.

“Same,” (YN) nodded.

“We should go on another date sometime soon,” he replied almost a little nervously.

(YN) smiled broadly. “Yea, that would be cool,” she agreed, trying not to sound too over eager. They exchanged a lingering hug before they both headed off toward their homes.

The next morning (YN) walked into her classroom and noticed that something had been left on her desk. The night before she and Gerard had discussed their favorite coffee shops and their regular coffee orders, and on her desk was a coffee, fixed just like she liked, a fresh stack of comics and a note that read ‘Thanks for the wonderful dinner last night, can’t wait to return the favor. xo G’ She felt herself blush and stifled a squeal of delight, but quickly recomposed herself as the students began to file in for the first hour of the day.

(YN) and Gerard had been on a few dates, mostly just grabbing coffee or dinner after work, but finally they were on what felt more like a real date than any of the others. They had met up on a Saturday afternoon to grab lunch and then they were browsing (YN)’s favorite bookstore.

“I feel like as an English teacher everyone expects that my favorite book should be some kind of classic novel, or Shakespeare, or something, but honestly I just really like a clever mystery,” (YN) explained as they walked through the rows and rows of books.

“Really? What’s your favorite?”

(YN)’s eyes scanned the shelves. “Here it is,” she said, pulling out a book. “It’s a mystery series based around a witch museum in England. It’s written from the point of view of the protagonist and it’s so funny and smart.”

“It sounds good, I’ll have to get it,” Gerard smiled, taking the book from her hands.

“You don’t have to do that, you can borrow my copy, I have the whole series,” she smiled, placing her hand on his and looking up at him with a smile. "I'd really like to have someone to talk about it with."

"I could listen to you talk forever," Gerard replied, the words tumbling out of his mouth and (YN) couldn't mask the surprise on her face. "I really like you (YN),” he confessed after a moment.

"I really like you too Gerard," she replied, barely above a whisper. As if in slow motion, they found themselves leaning in, their lips so close, but not touching as she glanced up at him for one more second before closing her eyes and his lips pressed against hers.

Just like when they danced, her heart felt like it could burst out of her chest. For a moment she wondered if he could feel it, but as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, she didn't care. All that mattered was this moment with Gerard that she'd been thinking about for what felt like ages, in her favorite bookstore, in front of her favorite book no less. (YN) was certain it really couldn't get any better than this.

(YN) and Gerard’s relationship continued to get better and better through the cold winter months. Gerard delighted in finding any excuse he could to drop off little notes or gifts for (YN) to find in her desk during the day, like on Valentine’s Day he even left a rose with a cute little drawing of the two of them together for her to find.

"Me, Ray and Frank were gonna go check out this band tonight, do you wanna come too?" Gerard asked during their lunch hour a few weeks later.

"I don't wanna intrude," she objected.

"No, I want you to come along. I wanna finally let them know that we're," he trailed off as he reached over and took her hand.

"Going out?" She filled in.

"Yea, because I want the world to know you're my girl," he said with a blushing smile.

"Well in that case, sure, I'd love to go along," she smiled. "And for what it's worth, I couldn't be happier to be your girl,” she said leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek.

That evening (YN) walked into the small venue and spotted her three coworkers at a table in the corner. "Hey guys," she greeted taking the open chair next to Gerard.

"Hey, how's it going?" Ray smiled.

"Good, what a long week though," she sighed. "I dunno if midterms are harder on us or the students."

Frank hummed in agreement as he took a swig of his beer. "I hear ya."

The group settled into a comfortable conversation until the first band took the stage. (YN) found herself having a lot of fun and not like the odd one out as she previously worried she would be. The guys all had encyclopedic knowledge of music, and it was fascinating to listen to them talk.

“I still wanna start a band, I haven’t been in one for ages,” Frank announced.

“Who is gonna wanna see a bunch of teachers play music?” Ray countered.

“Wasn’t Sting a teacher? And Gene Simmons at one point?” (YN) offered.

“That’s true,” Frank nodded.

“Well if you need a singer,” Gerard shrugged.

“Wait, you can sing too?” (YN) asked, eyebrows raised. What she didn’t notice was the look being exchanged by Ray and Frank.

When the main act took the stage, Gerard slid his chair closer to (YN)’s, and put his arm around her shoulders. (YN) settled in, resting against him forgetting that the others were unaware of their relationship.

“Oh, so this really is a thing?” Frank said looking between the two after the first song was over.

“Has been for a while,” Gerard replied with a sly smile.

“I should have known,” Ray laughed. “I could tell something was up, I just couldn’t tell what.”

“Yea, I'm happier than I have been in a long time," Gerard replied, pressing a kiss to the side of (YN)'s head and she smiled contentedly.

"So if the art room’s a rockin, don't come a knockin?" Frank winked and Ray groaned.

"Come on man," Gerard sighed, feeling his cheeks burning red.

(YN) rolled her eyes. "See this is why we didn't say anything."

"I'm kidding!" Frank laughed. "You guys are really good together. I was wondering how long it would take you to realize it."

Despite their friends knowing about their relationship, Gerard and (YN) were still keeping things as platonic as possible while at work. Luckily they had been hanging out so much before they started dating, appearances didn’t change much when they ate lunch in one of their classrooms, or met up for coffee before work and walked in together.

One morning (YN) overslept, having stayed up late reading the latest collection of comics Gerard had lent her. As she rushed through her room getting ready, she grabbed the first black cardigan she found draped over the back of her desk chair and threw it on, before hurrying off to work. The day passed uneventfully until she noticed a familiar student lingering after class.

“Hi Sadie, what’s up?” She asked pleasantly.

“Ms. (YLN), is that Mr. Way’s sweater?” Sadie asked.

(YN) tried to keep calm, but her mind was spinning. She had realized by her second class of the day that she had grabbed Gerard’s sweater that he had left at her apartment, but she didn’t think for a second anyone would realize it. “What? Why would you think that?”

“The paint stain on the elbow. I bumped into him with my palette in class one day and he got paint on his elbow. It looks just like the stain on your elbow.”

“Must just be a funny coincidence. I like to paint too, I must have stuck my elbow in my paint and didn’t notice,” (YN) shrugged.

Sadie nodded her head, but (YN) knew by the look on her face that she didn’t believe her at all. “Ok. Well, then that's another thing you two have in common.”

“Shouldn’t you be going to your next class?” (YN) asked with a tight lipped smile and Sadie accepted that she wouldn’t be getting the answer she was seeking that day and left the room.

“So where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Gerard replied with a smile and glanced over at (YN) in the passenger seat.

Friday had become their regular date night, and that evening they went out to Jersey, got in Gerard's car and started driving away from the city. (YN) laughed lightly and shook her head as she watched the trees fly by. The spring evening cooled sun as the sun began to lower in the sky, and Gerard pulled into the entrance of a county park tucked out in the country.

“I like to come out here when I want to get away from the noise and crowds of the city for a while,” Gerard said as he pulled into the parking lot that bordered a small lake.

They got out and Gerard grabbed a bag from the backseat, pulling out a blanket. Gerard led the way to a bench at the edge of the sandy beach and wrapped them both in the blanket as the sky glowed golden above them.

“This sunset reminds me of that day,” (YN) started.

“When I stayed late and ran into you,” Gerard finished.

“Yes!” (YN) laughed.

“Can I tell you something?” Gerard asked, almost a little sheepishly.

“Hmm?”

“I thought you were cute from the first time I saw you, but I think I started to have a crush on you that day.”

“That’s adorable,” (YN) grinned. “I think I realized I had a crush on you while we were chaperoning that dance.”

“I only volunteered to do it because I thought you would be there,” Gerard replied.

“I thought you said O’Connor was on your case?” She said elbowing him playfully.

“Well that too, but I’d rather impress you than him.”

(YN) just hummed in agreement and put her head on his shoulder. “Wait, is it gonna get dark enough out here to see stars?”

“Yea, that’s why I wanted to come out here with you.”

“Aww, thanks Gee,” she replied snuggling closer to him as he drew the blankets around them even tighter. They watched the stars start to appear overhead as the sky grew dark. There had been so many quiet moments when Gerard and (YN) spent time together, but this felt extra special as they were so very alone, away from the whole world.

Once the cold air couldn’t be fought off by the blanket, they made their way back to the car and drove back toward the city. Gerard wished he wasn’t driving so he could watch her. That’s what he had done for most of their time in the park, watching her watch the stars above with a look of awe and wonderment and he was certain he hadn’t felt this way for someone before. (YN) glanced over at Gerard and smiled. He reached over and took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

(YN) yawned when they arrived back at Gerard’s house and got out of the car. “Thank you for the lovely evening.”

“Do you wanna stay over?” Gerard asked. It wouldn’t be the first time, but the simplicity of the evening felt special and he didn’t want it to end.

“Yea, I’d love to,” she nodded as he took her hand and they headed inside together.

"Aren't you gonna be late for school?"

The words split through Gerard's slumber and he sat bolt upright, (YN), already sitting up, had a look of confusion and shock that must have matched his.

"What time is it?" She gasped.

Gerard grabbed his phone off the coffee table. He didn’t even remember falling asleep on the couch the night before. "8:04, oh my god we’re late!"

"Why didn't my alarms go off?!" (YN) asked in a panic, grabbing her own phone to see what was wrong. "Oh my god, that’s right it's Saturday," she replied, sinking back on the couch, putting her head in her hands with a weary laugh.

"Mikey! That wasn't funny!" Gerard shouted at his brother who had retreated back to his room with a bowl of cereal.

(YN) laughed. "It was a little funny."

Gerard laughed lightly and ran his hand through his black hair. "Yea I guess,” he said as he looked up at (YN), the sunlight through the curtains illuminating her face. He noticed the makeup from the night before was smudged a little bit around her eyes, and her hair was messy from sleep, but to Gerard she looked like the most perfect thing he’d ever seen. He recognized the same feelings from the night before and it dawned on him. "Hey (YN)?"

"Yea?" She asked looking up at him, eyebrows raised.

"I love you.”

(YN)’s expression softened at the words. “I wanna say something clever, but I can’t think of anything better than I love you too, Gerard.”

Gerard sat up and grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her as deeply as he could. When they pulled back, breathless, Gerard rested his forehead against hers as they both smiled at each other lovingly.

“Are you guys just gonna makeout on the couch all day?” Mikey asked.

“If it will bug you, then yes,” Gerard retorted. Mikey huffed in annoyance on his way to the kitchen.

“Just like that your first year at Our Lady of Sorrows Academy is over,” Gerard smiled from where he was leaning against the door frame of (YN)’s classroom.

“And what a year it was,” (YN) replied, placing the last of her things that she was taking home in her bag. "It's going to be weird going from seeing you almost every day to not,” she pouted.

"You make it sound like it's a Jane Austen novel and we'll only be able to communicate by letter," Gerard laughed as he pushed himself off the door frame and walked over to her.

"Would you write to me from all the way in New Jersey?" She giggled.

"I'll write you a love letter every day," he said wrapping his arms around her. "Even days when we're together. I'll hide them for you to find later."

(YN) grinned and buried her face against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him as well. "You're too cute," she mumbled before looking up at him. Gerard smiled back before leaning in and kissing her.

"I knew it!"

Gerard and (YN) jumped apart and turned to see Sadie in the doorway.

"What are you still doing here?" (YN) asked frantically.

"I remembered a book I had in my backpack that I needed to return to the library. But I knew it! I told you back in January that you'd be dating before I graduated! Now you just need to get married before I graduate, I can't wait for that!" Sadie was practically dancing with excitement.

"Have a good summer Sadie," Gerard said with a wave, encouraging her to leave.

"See you next year!" She called as she skipped off down the hall.

"Please do not give her the satisfaction of asking me to marry you before she graduates," (YN) groaned, rubbing her forehead.

"Well there goes my plans for the next year’s first day assembly," Gerard sighed and (YN) rolled her eyes. "I'm kidding, but just tell me when you're ready, sugar."

(YN) grinned and leaned up to kiss Gerard again. "For now, let's just get going to Frank's party cookout. We don't wanna be late."

Gerard smiled and nodded as they walked out of the school hand in hand.

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fiction #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance imagine

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vanaera · 5 years ago

Text

Love at First Snow (jhs)

Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together. Characters | dance major (and “academically-challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius!female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k (I’m sorry, this ended up longer than I intended) Warnings | Discussions of verbal abuse from toxic families and mentions of panic attacks A/N | Hi Cristine! It is I, snowflake, your secret santa! This is my gift for @bts-poetry for @bangtanarmynet, and @btsbookclub ‘s Secret Santa 2019 event! I combined this gift with the prompt I claimed in @kwritersworld’s 2019 Christmas Event as my inspirations for both events have merged into one story hehe.

Everyone has some titles to live by. “Well-versed lawyer,” “patient teacher,” “single mother,” “broke student”—one-liner characteristics and descriptions enough for people to summarize the entirety of one another. From each other’s greatest achievements to their itty bitty mistakes, any of them can be used to replace an identifier. After all, people always see what they want to see. It all depends on what title sticks out the most to the majority around them. For Jung Hoseok, he lives up to the title of a lovable boyfriend and a rare one, too. As whenever people look at him, the first thing they see is the aberrance of how he ended up….dating Y/N.

There’s nothing wrong with him, or Y/N for that matter. It’s just…they are the most impossible couple to end up together as they are the most literal polar opposites of each other.

People remember Jung Hoseok as the golden dance major of the prestigious South Tigers University. He got into the Performing Arts program, Major in Dance by acing the laborious dance audition despite his unimpressive results in the written exam. Hoseok’s colorful background from his long-term dance crew, Hope World, and his countless wins in different hip hop dance competitions were more than enough proof to know he is indeed one of the top dancers of the university. With a body capable of executing each move ever known to humankind with such grace and precision, Jung Hoseok also has a stage presence that warrants everyone’s unbridled attention. Thus, it is without question he is the prided Most Valuable Dancer of his university’s varsity dance crew, Synergy. The long line-up of trophies Synergy has placed in STU’s hall of glory, all thanks to the competitions Hoseok led, are enough to say Hoseok is literally the modern-day Apollo.

However, it is not just his talent or insanely god-like face and physique that makes Hoseok so “golden.” Because as if Apollo wasn’t enough, Hoseok also impersonated Helios. Jung, Hoseok is warm and kind and funny. He easily makes everyone want to be his bestfriend the moment they met him. Most people often speak of him first thing in the morning with another wonderful feat he pulled off. Hoseok is great in the things he does — playing as the great wingman for people who need the extra push in their romances or becoming the occasional teacher’s pet who goes to the professor and (easily) successfully convinces them to give the class a deadline extension for a requirement. Hoseok turns up every campus party into the happiest event anyone could ever be in and he is such an amazing, sincere friend who remembers everyone’s birthday and gives out the nicest of hugs. Hell, Hoseok even volunteers in long-inactive “dead” college organizations like the Campus Drunk Patrol, Environment Protection Squad, and Animal Welfare Group in his free time. Hoseok is the literal sun and anyone who knows him — which is literally, everyone — will never be unable to deny otherwise.

So when Hoseok expressed romantic interest in Y/N in sophomore year, everyone around him was beyond bewildered. Most especially, his friends.

“Y/N?” Jimin sputters, “as in…The Y/N, L/N from our batch?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Like the Analytical Physics major Y/N L/N?” Taehyung gapes.

“Yeah, I mean,” Hoseok sends them a questioning look, “is there any other Y/N L/N?”

Taehyung scratches his head. “Well, no…I just thought there’s a Y/N in another batch?”

Hoseok gives him a pointed look, unamused.

But Taehyung’s true sentiment is voiced out when Jimin half-screams at their table, “Why her?!”

“Well, why not her?” Hoseok half-smiles, picking on the fries that were dropped scattered onto the table after Jimin unceremoniously pounded his fist on the surface in an act of over-exaggeration.

Taehyung sends Hoseok a disgusted look but continues his friend’s argument, “Dude, she’s like, the entire opposite of you.”

“And that is an understatement.” Jimin points a fry toward his direction, glaring at Hoseok.

Hoseok huffs, “Oh c'mon, you’re all just going overboard. What happened to the golden rule ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

“First of all, Y/N’s not a book,” Jimin scoffs. “She’s like, the whole fucking library of science textbooks. Last sem, we’re busy doing a group project when Y/N suddenly spewed some SOHCAHTOA shit about the Bermuda Triangle. As if the things she said are already a whole level of weird, she even said them in a manner like Liam Neeson’s ‘I don’t know who you are but I’m going to kill you’ monologue from Taken. And second of all, the golden rule is ‘do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you,’ dumbass.”

“Okay I got the golden rule wrong,” Hoseok groans, “but nevertheless, you’re still violating it by judging Y/N.”

“In our defense tho,” Taehyung mumbles over the straw of his milkshake, “Y/N judged us first. I was watching Orange one time in the library and she came over and took a seat with me. And then she said some alien gibberish about how Naho Takamiya always fall stupidly on the stairs because she said, by verbatim, ‘according to basic logic and common sense, that’s not how projectiles work,’” Taehyung clicks his tongue and Jimin cringes. Taehyung continues, “Y/N said Naho wouldn’t fly to the hallway when she tripped on the actual steps. She even actually drew a diagram with computations of Naho’s fall and gave it to me before she abruptly got up and go. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and insulted both at the same time.”

“And,” Jimin adds, “last December, I shared a meme on Facebook about turning on your brain instead of your heart this coming 2017 and guess what she did? She commented below “guess, you’ll just die of heart failure before 2017 even comes.” Jimin rolls his eyes, “She made me feel dumb as if I don’t know how heart failure works. So us judging her back is just fair and square.”

“But you don’t actually know how heart failure works,” Hoseok retorts. He glares at Taehyung, “And dude, to be honest, Orange is overrated and Naho really flies whenever she trips, or gets tripped, on the stairs.” Hoseok throws up his hands in annoyance. “Seriously, are you two judging her for just…I don’t know, being smart?!”

Taehyung sighs. “Okay, that’s a bit true, but the thing is, Hobi, our IQ levels are already a bit higher than yours—”

“What’s that got to do with this?!”

“—And if Y/N’s already treating us like the biggest idiots of the world,” Jimin continues Taehyung’s words, “then what chance do you have in having a decent conversation with her? Much less a more fruitful one that could end up in a romantic relationship? There’s like a 99.9 percent sure-ness she will make you more of an idiot than us!”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “Her thoughts are composed of quadratic formulas and science shit like ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ While I’m not even sure you know what DNA stands for.”

Hoseok gawks, “Of course I know what DNA stands for!”

“Then say it,” Jimin cocks a brow.

“Dual Nucleus Association—fuck, why am I even doing this—” Hoseok glares at his friends, “What do you take me for? An imbecile?”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyung says honestly.

“That’s why right now, we’re telling you to drop anything you’re feeling in that,” Jimin points to Hoseok’s chest, “for Y/N. Hell, how will you even click together? Y/N’s allergic to nonsense and emojis and your daily vocabulary is entirely nonsense and eggplant emojis.”

Hoseok opens his mouth to argue he also knows about the clown emoji but before he can utter a word, Taehyung beats him to it.

“Dude, we’re not telling you this to insult you.” Jimin snorts and Taehyung closes his eyes before he looks again at Hoseok’s eyes, “Okay, maybe we’re enjoying teasing you a little too much. But we can say this is just payback for you not letting us go home earlier yesterday because you said we ‘need improvement’ which I damn well think not, bitch.” Hoseok squirms and Taehyung claps his shoulder hard, making him wince. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say, Hoseok, is we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“How will I get hurt?! Nothing’s happened yet. I’m just saying I like Y/N—”

“That’s what we’re worried about, Hoseok,” Jimin cuts him. “Nothing’s happened yet but we know something already did.”

“Like what?”

“You like Y/N. That’s the problem,” Jimin deadpans. “Hoseok we know you like to take relationships seriously. We even know that when you set your heart on a girl, your imagination is already two steps ahead, playing your wedding in your head.”

Hoseok gulps, a guilty sweat forming on his temple.

“But you see, Y/N belongs to that type of people who have their what-will-you-be-in-10-years solidly planted in their heads. And it’s highly probable a relationship, much less a wedding, is written in those 10-year plans. Much more, art majors like us are stigmatized to bound for failure because society is still close-minded and deems art won’t feed us. And by the meaning of society, it’s the ‘almighty and noble’ science folks Y/N belongs to. For God’s sake, there’s a lot of movies that have already forecasted science and art don’t mix!”

“Well, I don’t remember any movies—”

Taehyung looks at Hoseok, incredulous. “Dude, there’s like The Theory of Everything—”

“That’s science and faith!”

“Stephen Hawking’s ex-wife sang in a choir. And she also started writing after their divorce! So that’s still art!”

Hoseok was about to retaliate when he feels Jimin clasp a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks at him. Jimin sighs, “Hoseok, we just want you to not regret your decisions in the end. Y/N belongs to those snobbish high-hat people who treat everyone below them like dirt. There’s plenty of other girls out there who are much nicer than Y/N. Nice just like you. For one, why don’t you try giving a chance to the girls who’ve been crushing on you since freshman year? I know a few and they’re actually sweet. Just anyone who’s not Y/N. Seriously, just trust us on this, Hobi.”

Except Hoseok does not. If there is one characteristic to describe Hoseok other than nice and talented, that would be his hard-headedness. He didn’t listen to his parents when they tried to discourage him from taking dance as his major. Hoseok disregarded numerous peers’ suggestions to join a frat so he can “shine more.” He even disregarded the toxic masculinity fraternities promoted by rocking pink overalls with his sparkly ugly sneakers and multicolored acorn pouch (which Jimin told him was the bane of the entire fashion industry) at least once a week. He even changes it up with other colorful ensembles the fashion students make. Hoseok did not even listen to Taehyung when the former told him not to drink before taking their finals in World History because, "no Hoseok, the alcohol does NOT bring back memories.”

And look where his stubbornness got him. Hoseok became one of the greatest dancers his university has ever handled. His sole talent is enough for him to get invited to teach classes in several prestigious art colleges in the country. Hoseok gained more fulfilling and growth-inspiring friendships than surface-level ones offered by frats. He enjoyed more substantial conversations than booze temptation and toxic, trivial fights over games and girls. Hoseok even accidentally created a modeling career with local brands after his viral modeling of a peach acorn-inspired outfit for the project of his fashion major friends. Although him disregarding Taehyung’s reminders was a big mistake as he totally flunked World History, that night actually made Hoseok learn his lesson not to drink before the finals (and also because he learned the alcohol does not bring back memories he actually needed for the exam. But memories of his most embarrassing moments — like the one where he ended up performing in a children’s party as a fairy godmother—complete with the rainbow gown, fairy wings, plastic crown, and wand—because he mixed up the location of the college’s Halloween party with his friend’s family get-together).

So, why would Hoseok listen to Jimin and Taehyung when setting his eyes and heart for Y/N feels like the most right decision he has ever made in his life? Especially when Y/N’s nowhere the high-hat snobbiety concept Jimin put her in. Hoseok is sure about this because he started to see and know her more than anyone else could after the fateful night of the Science Majors’ last year’s Christmas party.

“Is that Y/N?” Hoseok squints his eyes. The person walking towards him is clad in a black coat and indigo satin slip-dress that falls short on her mid-thigh. Her hair is a mess and her small glittery satchel is slipping off her shoulders even if she adjusted it again and again. Not to say she’s also limping on her two-inch silver heels. When the girl raises her head and sees him, her face falls into an annoyed scowl. Hoseok right then confirms it is aberrantly, and shockingly, Y/N. At the sight of recognition in his face, Y/N immediately runs away in the opposite direction. Hoseok finds himself already chasing after her before his mind could acknowledge that he is actually running after the campus’ excruciating goody-two-shoes in the ass'o clock of the night.

Hoseok easily catches up to Y/N. He blocks her way, causing her to halt. Hoseok hunches as he breathlessly puffs, “Hey Y/N, why you so fast?”

“No-none of your business Jung Hoseok,” Y/N turns away from him and crosses her arms. Hoseok almost smiles. It is amusing how she effortlessly pulls her usual “intimidator stance” even in such a weird scenario.

“Well, it is my business if you’re wandering on campus grounds in the night and obviously not sober.”

Y/N whips her head towards him, “I am sober. What are you even here for?”

“According to my eyes, you’re clearly drunk. Look,” Hoseok points to her face, “you look red all over and you can’t even look at me straight.”

Y/N slaps his hand away.

Hoseok puts his hands back in his pockets, “You’re clearly doing some beautiful eyes challenge right now.”

Y/N cringes at him but Hoseok continues, “And for your second question, I’m patrolling for the Campus Drunk Patrol.” He smiles and points to the logo on his jacket.

Y/N leans forward and squints at the logo. Seeing her raised brow, Hoseok explains, “We aim to help drunk students sober up before commuting home. We can also escort them to their dorm facades and notify their RAs to come and get them.”

Y/N still has her brow raised, skeptical. Hoseok sighs, “Well, it’s a dead org so I understand why you don’t believe me. If I also learn some org that’s been inactive for five years has suddenly gone active, I will be skeptical, too. But trust me on this, okay? I’ll just walk you around until you’re sober enough to know how to go home. I heard you’re dorming here. I can help you get to your dorm if you want.”

Y/N still looks unconvinced and Hoseok releases a sigh again. He juts his thumb and points to his back, “We have our Patrol Marshal stationed there by the campus gates. He can totes see us here and tell you’re one of the stubborn drunk students who refuse to cooperate with our protocol.”

Hoseok smugly puts his weight on his left foot.“You can refuse and go ahead. But because the marshal doesn’t let drunk people he already caught go home, he will notify the head RA and trust me when I tell you I’ve seen a lot of students end up in bigger trouble for not complying with our joint protocol with the RA Council. Or,” Hoseok smiles, “you could just make our lives easier by letting me help you sober up.”

Y/N looks away, gnawing on her lip. When Hoseok hears a faint “fine” come from her, he has to keep his jaw from hanging open.

Because, why wouldn’t he be flabbergasted?

Y/N L/N, the fearsome Analytical Physics major, is not the sweetest star out there. With a resting bitch face, innateness to give cold replies, gift of the perpetual judging stare, and insensitivity to joke cues, Y/N is one of the hardest people to cooperate with. It is not entirely because she does not put in any effort. No one just found it easy, or tolerable even, to interact with her. Sure, Y/N’s smart, a genius in Hoseok’s eyes. However, what stuck to everyone’s memory is how she unconsciously belittles everyone around her. Y/N gives out unnecessary run-throughs of chemistry concepts about any movie or animation brought up in a conversation. She instantly goes grammar-nazzi on anyone who slips on the rules of English grammar, especially when people make errors concerning the Oxford comma in their papers. She even goes out of her way to explain to her fellow students the physics of how and why they drove or parked badly with their bike or scooter.

But the pinnacle of Y/N’s negative reputation has to be her merciless removal of her senior’s name, Oh Sehun, from the case study required in Communication Media Theories. In her very first year in university, at that. Although her action is justified as Sehun did not contribute anything at all in the group project, this name removal caused outrage among every college student. Sehun, who is actually the college’s renowned quarterback, graduated late and was now behind of his original team who already got into the professionals. All because of Y/N. Hence, the people in the university have started to associate her name with the title “stuck-up-iest bitch to ever walk on Earth.” Some don’t even seem to remember her name. All everyone knew is that Y/N’s one hell of a condescending bitch.

So having Y/N walk silently by his side, cooperating for the first time without reciting her rights based on the constitution with such accuracy in verbatim while passively and implicitly insulting him, Hoseok cannot help to be so shocked.

Noticing the complete silence that has surrounded them two, Hoseok breaks from his trance and leads Y/N to the college’s cafe. It’s already closed, given the lateness of the night, but it has their outdoor metal chairs set-up outside. He lets Y/N plop down on one of the metal seats as he produces a coffee-in-can for her.

“Do you just casually carry around canned coffees with you?”

“No, just when I am on duty for the patrols. Caffeine is the best way to help people sober up fast.” Hoseok inserts an edible straw for her and she grabs the drink.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N mutters, “Human body processes consumed alcohol on its own, thus, it’s processing speed is neither affected nor aided by any exterior substances. With this, there’s no such actual thing as 'sobering up fast.’ It just feels like that because caffeine is a stimulant and hence, counters the sedative effect of alcohol, making you feel alert and appear to be sober.” Y/N takes another sip, “Nevertheless, thanks for the free coffee.”

Hoseok almost gapes. The people were not kidding about how Y/N casually spouts science shit wherever she goes. Although he’s supposed to get tipped off, Hoseok just finds this set-up oddly amusing. He leans forward in his seat and props up his arm on the table to cup his face. “Anyway, why are you out in the late of the night?”

Y/N gives him an unamused look, “Because I was obviously partying. Is there any other party in the campus right now than the Science Majors’ Christmas party?”

“You’re right,” Hoseok chuckles, “but what I mean is, why are you already outside? The party doesn’t end 'til 2 A.M.”

“I just decided I want to go home.”

“Why?”

Y/N drops her drink on the table, “Are you just gonna ask me 'why’ everytime?!”

Hoseok tilts his head and smiles, “Talking with drunk people is part of our protocol in sobering up. So, yeah, I’m gonna ask why every time until the redness on your nose and cheeks subsides a little.”

“Fine,” Y/N hisses. She gives Hoseok a steely glare, “This night is the first time I’ve done something so stupid such as going to a party in an attempt to expand my connections. It turns out everyone still irrationally hates me about Oh Sehun’s name removal and they refused to interact with me. They kept sending me glares while I just pathetically stood in the corner of the room for the duration of the party, dumbly holding a cup of some alcoholic drink I just realized 30 minutes ago was what you call ‘spiked.’ These pretty heels I wore hurt my ankles and toes all for nothing.” Y/N covers her face with her palms, “God, I don’t even know why I’m opening up about these things with you when it’s just the first time I talked with you. Maybe it’s just because I’m just drunk, god, it’s so stupid–”

“It’s not stupid,” Hoseok interjects and Y/N raises her head from her hands. Hoseok smiles, “When there’s too much alcohol in our system, we get to do stuff we never knew we can. And sometimes, they are things we really desire to do but dare not let out in the open, afraid of what others may think. And it may come off as stupid as you’re letting your heart do the talking instead of your brain. But you know what? You have to be stupid sometimes to acknowledge what your brain may be missing out on. Plus,” Hoseok stretches open his arms wide, “there’s just the two of us here so no one can really judge you because hey, I’m just all ears here. After all, I’m just an officer of the Campus Drunk Patrol helping you sober up.” At the sight of Y/N’s pursed lips and eyes set on the coffee beside her, looking as if she’s convinced (and it looks like it’s not like her to admit it), Hoseok smiles wider and leans forward. “Now, back to your story. Why did you decide to go to a party?”

“Because,” Y/N sighs, “I don’t know, @keanu_reeves_is_the_real_daddy from Hoboken said in Reddit that going to parties is a great opportunity to make friends.” Y/N looks down at her hands and interlocks them, “I’m just–I’m just desperate to get some friends. I’m already in second year, and still, no one wants to be with me. I often talk about how I don’t care whether people like me or not. Most of the time, I really do not care at all. But sometimes...it also gets lonely when you feel everyone seems to hate you.”

“Well, I’m not everyone.”

Y/N looks up at him, frowning, “That’s a great joke, Hoseok. I saw you hanging with Jimin just yesterday and I heard my name as the subject and "stick-in-the-ass bitch” as the predicate in a couple of sentences.“

"Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but it was just Jimin who talked bad about you. Did you hear me say your name and 'stick-in-the-ass’ in one sentence?”

Y/N glares at him. She then rips her gaze away from him to set them back on her interlocked fingers. “What are you trying to imply, Hoseok?”

"I’m trying to imply, if you want to have a friend, I’m willing to be one.”

"But you already got lots of friends.”

Hoseok smiles, “That doesn’t mean I have no room left for one more.”

Y/N gives him that skeptic look again and Hoseok snorts. “Hey, I’m being serious here. I really want to be your friend if you’d like. And no, it’s not because I pity you.”

Y/N raises a brow at him in disbelief and Hoseok purses his lips. He raises his hands in surrender, “Ooohkay, maybe like 0.001 percent I do, but 99.999 percent I just don’t like how everyone hates you for something that is not actually your fault. I really want to get to know you if you’d let me.”

Y/N just stares at him and Hoseok, for the first time in his life save for the days he’s answering written exams, has literally no idea what to do. Is Y/N angry at him for blurting out those things? Or is she aggravated he seemed plastic? But Hoseok knows he meant every single thing he said because first and foremost, he cannot lie even if he wanted to. He’s a goddamn horrible liar that anyone will know he’s lying before he can even start to lie. Second, he always says the first thing that comes to his mind because, in the majority of his life, he is incapable of thinking first before doing something. And third, Hoseok really meant what he said. He’s always been curious about Y/N. Jimin and Taehyung always talk ill about her and from the numerous negative shits he hears from them, he can’t help but think that maybe, her reputation is just one big hell of a rumor. It’s just impossible that so many rumors and negative comments about someone who he rarely sees outside the university, to be true.

Hoseok knows because he also has his fair share of rumors he has struggled to disprove. Like how he “cheated” in dance contests because no one can’t believe someone is just so exceptionally talented that they can win every single competition they join. Or how he “slept around” with almost half of the female population in the university just because he has lots of female friends and he loves to joke around with eggplant and saliva emojis in his texts. It’s hard to be contained in such one definitive title, much more a heavily negative one. Hoseok knew what it felt and it feels it’s just wrong to stay as a standbyer while the entire university jeers on Y/N for such a trivial reason.

“Do-do you really mean that?”

Hoseok looks at Y/N and nods. “Yes, I do.”

Something wet drops on his jacket and Hoseok looks up at the sky. The sky is pitch black, save for the white inklets dotting the atmosphere, lightening up the dark horizon along with the glow of sparkling snowflakes. He turns to Y/N and smiles, “Oh look, it’s the first snow.”

Y/N returns his smile this time. She tells him she wants to stay for ten more minutes to appreciate the snow before going home. Hoseok grins at her and says he’s got enough time to spare before his duty ends.

The next day, Y/N’s frowning at Hoseok as the latter awkwardly holds his lunch tray next to her table.

“Uhhh, aren’t you standing by the wrong table? Your friends sit over there.”

“No,” Hoseok quips. “Jimin and Taehyung are not seated anywhere here because their lunches are scheduled way later today. And, this, in my opinion,” Hoseok scoots to Y/N’s side and sits down beside her, “is the perfect table.” Hoseok digs in his lunch and grins at her, “You should probably start eating now, too, y'know? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“I–” Y/N bites her lip and look away before she refocuses a glare at his face, “Are you really taking seriously your joke last night?”

“It’s not a joke,” Hoseok retorts, dropping his utensils. “I’m serious about everything I said."

"But I didn’t mean mine. I’m drunk, remember?”

“If you really didn’t mean them,” Hoseok looks at her, “then you can just tell me to leave. I’ll do whatever you say.”

Y/N stares at him, brows scrunched together as if conflicted. She looks down on her hands on her lap and sighs, “I…don’t really want you to…leave. I’m sorry, I just…thought you’re just playing with me. You know all of this is still new to me. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Hoseok chuckles, “no need to be so serious. We can take things slowly as long as you’d like.” Y/N pulls up a small smile and Hoseok grins. “Let’s finish our lunches and then we can look at memes. Memes are essential building blocks in friendships.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Taehyung and I became friends after we accidentally sent each other hilarious anti-government blinking man memes.”

It is needless to say the entire university goes berserk later when they find Y/N, the campus bitch, and Hoseok, the university’s sunshine boy, guffawing over chemistry memes during lunch. Hoseok does not understand a thing, but he enjoys laughing with Y/N as she passionately explains to him each concept and why they are funny.

It is true that Y/N wasn’t the dearest person in the world. Hoseok learned this after weeks of dealing with her unintentional snarkiness and unnecessary science lessons that may seem insulting and offensive to others. But through the time he got to befriend her, Hoseok learns Y/N is just too smart for her own good. Y/N always goes around like an encyclopedia because she doesn’t know what else to say when she wants to find common grounds with other people. It is just unfortunate that Y/N cannot speak of anything that does not involve quantum mechanics and chemical structures. Meanwhile, her unintended snarkiness is always directed to people’s redundancy and anomalies in their speech. Hoseok found out about this as soon as February rolled in, that it has to do with the restrictive childhood Y/N had. This, he discovered when Professor Minyoung Park called for him after his Science 11 GE class.

“Hoseok, I see you getting close with Y/N, these days.”

“Yes ma'am,” Hoseok replies. He sits on the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh, then you must have been familiar with how she can get,” Ms. Park leans forward, “not so…friendly around people. I know she and her mind of hers can be a little too much for others.”

Hoseok’s forehead furrows. How did Professor Park know? Although Y/N’s bad reputation has easily spread like wildfire among college students, not many professors or any of the university staff have shown any interest in her life other than her impressive academic standing. Hoseok asks, “How did you know, Ms. Park?”

The 40-year old professor leans back and smiles. “Would you believe I used to tutor Y/N L/N back in middle school?”

“No way,” Hoseok’s jaw drops open.

Ms. Park chuckles, “Yes, it’s true. I know, what a coincidence right? I remember how that pretty girl used to be so insecure about her braces.”

“Yeah, she must be so…adorable back then,” Hoseok looks away bashful. He’s not used associating Y/N with such adjectives. Saying them aloud feels too weird on his tongue.

Ms. Park’s voice makes him turn back to her. “Until now she is. It’s just a shame how she did not outgrow her…usual speech style. But in her defense, it’s not entirely her fault.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. His curiosity is instantly piqued. “What do you mean, Ms. Park?”

“Well, Y/N L/N is brought up in a home…quite not friendly for children growing up. The L/Ns is a prestigious family. Not for their wealth, but for their remarkable lineage of geniuses. Y/N’s great grandparents are renowned mathematician whizzes. Her grandparents own Fields medals for their remarkable contributions in mathematics. Moreover, Y/N’s parents are well-respected chemists in almost every pharmaceutical congregation. Even their relatives are families of renowned doctors and engineers. From over ten years of tutoring her, I noticed how expectations pile up upon the short shoulders of young Y/N. Every single school day, Y/N has to attend cram schools and private tutoring after her classes to ensure she stays on top of the overall batch standing. She also has to be exposed to upper-class parties at such a young age which I think does not help anyone at all. Especially a child. All the people ever do there is brag about their achievements, scour for new families to ally with or manipulate, and eye each other’s mistakes so they can prove publicly how better they are than everyone else.” Ms. Park looks at Hoseok in the eyes, “Believe me, I used to dream about attending such parties until I finally learned how they go when I’ve been invited by the L/Ns. And with Y/N being a single child, all eyes were on her. So any room for mistakes is non-existent. Her parents assured her to grow like the perfect daughter they wanted her to be by making sure her movements are always constantly monitored and kept in check. You think Y/N studied here because this is just a prestigious school? No. The L/Ns wanted to send her abroad. To Harvard. Y/N refused and convinced them instead she’ll study here because I work here. And her parents trust me that I can be their eyes to see Y/N’s progress.”

Hoseok nods but he cannot help but let his mouth hang open at everything he’s discovering right now. No one really knew anything about Y/N. And suddenly out of nowhere, on some random Thursday afternoon, he is introduced into a pandora box of history where everything about her suddenly seems to make sense.

Ms. Park must have noticed his troubled face so she reaches out and holds Hoseok’s hand. “Hoseok, I’m not telling you these to pressure you. In fact, I am happy Y/N finally found someone who can listen to her and understand her, instead of watching her like a glass-cased perfect doll. I’m just telling you all these not to excuse the mistakes she has done but for you to understand where she’s coming from, especially when interacting with her can be difficult sometimes. So I hope you won’t give up on her, Hoseok. I know you’re a good kid. I just want Y/N to finally enjoy herself like every other college student out there.”

And Hoseok, with his ever characteristic stubbornness did not give up on you.

“What do you mean I cannot state the faulty quantum mechanics in Antman to Taehyung?!” Y/N scowls at Hoseok, fingers frozen on the book she has mid-taken away from the shelf.

“Because you will break Taehyung’s heart,” Hoseok purses his lips and steps nearer to her, almost cornering her to the back of the bookshelf. “And can you lower your voice? We’re in a library.”

“For the same reason you should also back up a bit as I do not fancy you borderline sexually harrassing me.”

“Sexual harassment?!” Hoseok whisper-yells, “I’m stepping closer to you because I feel the need to whisper louder for you to get my point that you should not explain whatever Antman’s faulty quantum shit to Taehyung because that will make him angry. And sad!”

“Why will he be angry?” Y/N sticks her nose up and crosses her arms. “Shouldn’t he feel grateful I am adding heuristic value to his existing knowledge?”

Hoseok drags a hand down his face, “Well, I didn’t say you cannot explain some facts to Taehyung. I’m just saying you don’t tell him those things in a matter-of-factly way you always do because he’ll think you’re insulting him for watching such movies.”

“How should I say them then?” Y/N quips back.

Y/N learns the answer to her question before she knew she already did it. She realizes it when she gets out of her film class and Hoseok, who has been waiting for her last period to finish, asks her how did it go.

“Well, I told him 'The film Antman is quite weird.’”

“And what did he say?”

“Taehyung grinned at me and high-fived me.”

“Well then, it was successful. Much better than how you initially decided to do it,” Hoseok grins.

“But still…I called Ant Man weird, I’m still perplexed why Taehyung is pleased.”

“Calling something weird is a common expression to us,” Hoseok starts and Y/N tilts her head. Hoseok explains further, “’Weird’ can mean as a good endearing weird or an insulting ‘weird.’ If you added statistics of probability and some laws with calling something ‘weird,’ it will sound like 'Hypothesis one is proven: the movie is confirmed to be bullshit because of unquestionable proof.’ And that will appear insulting because you are not giving room for others’ opinions to be valid. It will make you look you’re belittling them if you said it that way. But today, you did not. See?” Hoseok smiles, “you do not have to state 100 percent what you really meant. Just a bit of truth you find essential for others to know is already enough for a small talk.”

Y/N nods, her lips morphed into an amused “oh.”

Hoseok grins as he puts his hands on his waist, “Trust me on this. I became Mr. Congeniality last year for a reason.”

“What does it have to do with making small talk?”

“It means, I am the expert in making small talk.”

***

“C'mon, Y/N, let’s go to the spring festival. Please, please, please, pleaseeee.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N pulls her hand from his grip, “I have to study for our finals.”

“But, Y/N, it’s too early for that. The finals is yet to come 'til next month! Look at me, I do not feel any pressure to study yet.”

“But that’s because you do not have any academic standing to maintain.”

Hoseok’s face falls and Y/N immediately rectifies her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hoseok. Of course, I know you also value your class standing, given your program and all. I’m sorry I’m being insensitive again.”

Hoseok breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m just fucking around with you! You’re partially right though, I don’t have an academic standing to maintain but a performative one. Although I still have to keep my grades up so I can continue studying here. Anyway,” Hoseok grins at Y/N, offering his hand out, “I only accept apologies in the form of accompanying me to the spring festival.”

“Fine, Hoseok,” Y/N begrudgingly accepts his hand. But Hoseok cannot miss the small smile forming on her lips.

“Don’t fret tho,” He boops her nose and she cringes at him, “we can insert some Q&A sessions later so you can do a bit of studying if you’d still like.”

“How will we do that?”

Y/N learns the answer to that when she finds themselves screaming from the opposite ends of the giant boat ride.

“HOSEOK, DAMN YOU!”

The boat tips and her stomach drops but all she can hear is Hoseok screaming.

“WRONG, Y/N. The answer to the drilling ship which can dig 'til the mantle of the earth IS CHIKYU! NOW, off to the next question. What are CYANOBACTERIA?!!!”

But Hoseok does more than just sticking by Y/N’s side and not giving up on her. He falls in love with her.

Through the months he has become Y/N’s friend, Hoseok cannot help but be endeared by her. The things about her he never thought will come as close to what he calls cute suddenly grows on him. It grows too much that he lives off every single one of them. Even if it usually ends with him getting roasted. He used to get frustrated by Y/N’s never-ending witty comebacks. Now, his heart started singing during their bicker-banters that Hoseok even started to look forward to their bickering. Y/N’s smile that Hoseok used to think was a standard horror level of creepy is now all he could dream about when he’s asleep, and even when he’s awake. The way Y/N laughs at him, or smiles when she sees him were heart-warming. Until they upped 100 million levels and now they have become cataclysmic for his heart. The way Y/N patiently teaches him his lessons, or how her science-y jokes and memes become funny was something Hoseok used to overlook as trivial. Now, he couldn’t wait for the days he’ll bring his notebooks to the library and stare at Y/N’s face while she teaches him quantum mechanics and chemical structures.

Y/N’s small “tokens of appreciation,” as what she called it, like her handmade ‘thank you’ cards she gives Hoseok every month, or her invitations for Hoseok to accompany her to some street event or nearby dance event, or as uneventful as a new food stall that has opened in the university were something Hoseok never put much thought on. Now, they’re Hoseok’s source of both happiness and headaches as they make his heart fly and his brain ache for thinking too much into her actions. The way Y/N looks at him like never someone else has before—so attentive and focused in everything he says as if everything that comes from his mouth has so much worth listening to. Even if it’s a disgusting tale of how he almost shitted his pants before their science exam because he didn’t listen to Jimin when he told him to stop binge-eating spicy wings as a coping mechanism to stress, Y/N listens. This used to be something Hoseok treats as his special privilege as her friend. But now, it has become a national treasure he does not want to share with others. Especially with Namjoon, his roommate, whom Y/N managed to befriend because the former is a Biology major who’s on the same level as Y/N’s intellectual prowess. God, Hoseok cannot even count on his hands the number of times he’s been conflicted if it was jealousy on Namjoon’s effortless way to make Y/N laugh, or petty anger because he cannot even understand their jokes.

Hoseok doesn’t know how or why he suddenly felt all of these things for Y/N. It just happened. And so is how he accidentally blurted it out to her during one of their conversations, despite Jimin and Taehyung’s adamant warnings not to ask her out.

"And whenever I use the microscope in my room, I’m always scared turning the coarse knob so much. It will be horrifying to see the objective lens break the slide and the coverslip.”

“Y/N, I like you.”

YN’s jaw goes slack and she stares at him, eyes wide. Hoseok almost feels perspiration dot his entire hairline for what feels like ten whole minutes in purgatory. Will Y/N leave? Will she scream at him, laugh at him even for his audacity? Will she reject him? Of course she will, what is he thinking? Taehyung and Jimin are right. Y/N is smart and he is too dumb for her to even fulfill at least an ounce of her standards. Y/N is respectable and he is a shameless clown–

“I…am allowing you to be sexually attracted to me, Hoseok.”

“W-what?”

“I said,” Y/N looks straight into his eyes, “I am giving you permission to like me, Hoseok.”

Hoseok balks. “P-permission? W-why do I need permission?”

“Because, if you’re going to like me, I need you to know I am acknowledging your sexual attraction to me seriously,” Y/N stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of your coat. “It will be a waste if you do not want a long-term commitment. I do not have time to dwell on anything less than that.”

Lucky for Y/N, so does Hoseok and he wastes no time proving it to her. For the course of six months, Hoseok courts her in the most possible best Hoseok-way. Y/N lived the majority of her life within suffocating walls surrounded by academics, titles, honors, and people waiting for her to fall. Hoseok wanted to take her with him on a break (and a possible future lifestyle) away from them all. So he takes Y/N to carnivals, dance events, and festivals–ranging from streets decorated in cheap glowing lanterns to grander events that have remarkable fireworks displays.

Hoseok shows Y/N himself at his most vulnerable and strongest. He lets her watch him perform alone in practice rooms as he expresses the things muddled in his head, things he never dares to say to anyone else. Y/N’s been with him when he broke down due to his anxiety concerning his not-so-impressive acads. She was also with him in his embarrassing drunk adventures. Hell, Y/N even participated in his crew’s weird end-of-the-sem party. She let Hoseok dress them two like the two robbers from Home Alone–complete with the rageddy cut gloves and dirty face makeup. But, Y/N has also seen Hoseok’s crew’s successful university tours, the exclusive events he got invited to, and his dance recitals that got many theater and entertainment scouts crowding the room he’s dancing in.

Hoseok shows all of himself to Y/N. Willingly and so transparently, that in turn, she started to show him her self, too. Y/N let him see her in her utter glory. She let him see her receiving awards from various electronics competitions and exhibitions, her creating the first demo of her portable printer and scanner machine that earned many positive reviews from numerous investors, and her getting featured in not just the university’s newspaper or any other school’s newspapers, but the city’s news for a composting machine she invented. And, Y/N also let Hoseok see her at her worst. She let him see her get told off by one of the people she had unconsciously insulted in the hallways, her failing her Communication GE classes, and her having a panic attack when her parents announced yet again another party of scholars who wish to see what she’s been up to lately.

These things made Y/N realize Hoseok was serious about her and she, in return, has started to cherish the golden boy who would never leave her alone for the day until she’s crying from sheer laughter and happiness.

However, it is the small things Hoseok does that really really gets to her.

Hoseok remembers the small details Y/N slips in during their conversations.

“Hey, you are not supposed to eat that,” a fork clashes with Y/N’s own, preventing her from reaching the delectable dish.

“This pasta?” Y/N looks up at Hoseok.

“It has chopped shrimps. I asked Seokjin about it and he said it has prawns.” Hoseok grabs Y/N’s hand and leads her to the other side of the buffet. There, he gets her pasta with white sauce, this time, garnished in bacon. “Here, eat this, instead. It may not taste like the one with the shrimp but at least you won’t get allergies and you can enjoy the rest of the night instead of chilling out at the hospital watching sad re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.”

***

“Hoseok, you won’t believe how fascinating my yield turned out to be, like–Hoseok, what are you doing?

Hoseok pauses in his fumbling and blinks at Y/N. He looks down back at his bag and sighs. “I was hoping to keep this a surprise but oh well.”

He pulls up something from his bag and Y/N’s left gaping when he hands her a box of baked cookies. He rubs his neck, the tip of his ears reddening under her gaze. “I remember you telling me it’s been a while since you ate cookies. My mom baked a lot for us so here, have some. I know you’re on some ridiculous diet your parents told you to take. But I hope you could give yourself a cheat day and just eat and enjoy the day. Your parents aren’t here.”

Hoseok never fails to check up on her.

“Hey, how long have you been hunched over your desk now?” Hoseok’s voice blares from Y/N’s phone’s speakers and she sighs.

“About five hours now, I think?”

“Okay. Why don’t you take a break for ten minutes before going back to the grind? You told me your back is being an ass to you for two weeks now. Give it some rest. Also, drink some water.”

“Okay mom, will do,” Y/N chuckles over the line.

“Okay my daughter,” Hoseok sing-songs and she snorts. “I’ll call later and check up on you. Don’t dare to not take a break. I know where your dorm is and I’ll break into your window if I have to.”

“Okay, okay, will do, my personal health support system.”

“Glad to be of your service, ma'am.”

***

Y/N sighs as she throws her bag onto her bed. Today is a beat day. Mr. David was sour and he poured all his frustration on their class by giving out unnecessary lectures instead of teaching the new lesson. Y/N guesses she’ll have to self-study again for a quiz the prof has irrationally scheduled for tomorrow. And oh, Ms. Peterson also gave out a heavy paper late. It will force Y/N to cram for it in two days as submission date is just the day after tomorrow. Why is every deadline piling up today? It’s not yet even finals week yet!

Y/N plops onto her desk with a heavy sigh. She’ll end up having to do an all-nighter again — wait, what’s that doing there? There’s a pack of sandwiches in a clear food container sitting on top of her desk, beside her notebooks. Y/N doesn’t remember buying one or requesting her rommate, Jae In, to buy her one. Curious, she picked it up and turned it around. That’s when Y/N sees a yellow post-it attached on the plastic container.

“Hey Y/N. I thought of you today and decided to make you a sandwich. This is edible, I assure you. I asked my cooking mama friend Seokjin to come over and help me. Eat this snack before you do your work. I know you always start work right after coming home from your classes. I hope you eat on time and not skip on meals.

With super duper mega love,

Hoseok 😘”

And Hoseok helps Y/N to the best he can, whenever he can, especially about things she’s passionate about but no one takes time to really understand.

"Hey Y/N,” Hoseok greets as he plops down next to her seat in the library.

“Hoseok?” Y/N glances up at him, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You told me you have practice today.”

“Eh, the members cancelled on me today. And also, I’ve missed you, so I figured why not visit you.” Hoseok grins at her and she momentarily forgets how to breathe. Y/N doesn’t know when Hoseok started to have that effect on her, it just happened. And although it is starting to be an inconvenience regarding how she becomes a nervous wreck under his gaze, she weirdly cannot find herself complaining against it.

Hoseok leans forward, breaking her trance. “Now, what should we study today?”

“Uh-uhm, cellular mechanisms. I wanted to learn more about cancer cells.”

“Cellular mechanisms it is, then. Want me to help you make diagrams?”

Y/N nods and Hoseok grins, “I see the skills of artist Hoseok is not about to die anytime soon, eh?”

***

“How does that work, Y/N?”

“Well, it converts the mechanical energy from every step you take into electrical energy. It’s not yet finished so I’m still figuring out how many more parts I need for this to work. My previous demos have a lot of mistakes.” Right at the same time, a bolt pops off. Y/N runs a hand over her face, “And a lot of malfunctioning parts.”

Hoseok scratches his head. “I don’t know about any energy conversions but I know how to screw well?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A-a statement. I can fix what we have for now while you revise your design. Whaddya think?”

“That sounds good.” Y/N turns around and heads for her blue prints. But before she can pick up her measuring materials, she turns back to Hoseok, meeting his gaze as he’s mid-picking up a screw driver.

“Thank you, Hoseok for assisting me on this. I know it’s just a personal project and I may be taking too much of your time when you should probably be resting at your dorm.”

“Pssh, you’re not taking too much of my time. I am enjoying my time with you. Also, it’s not just a personal project. It is a personal project so of course, it deserves to have gigantic importance to you. And it will turn out great because I know it will. Now go let’s get these revisions done so we can do another test run.”

Hoseok has been a wonderful friend, an amazing supporter, and a sincere person who never feels ashamed of showing Y/N what he felt. That is all she needed for her not to doubt anymore and accept his confession.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok huffs, hands tucked deep in his red parka. “Why did you tell me to meet up in the park? It’s cold out. Can’t it wait 'til tomorrow?”

“No, it cannot,” Y/N faces the man, brows scrunched, her lips red from the number of times she has bitten it. “Hoseok, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“W-what is it?”

“I…am reciprocating yo-your profession of your sexual attraction to me.”

“What?”

“I said, I am reciprocating–” Y/N’ bites her lip and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives Hoseok the most focused stare she can ever give. “Hoseok, I am accepting your love confession. I like you, too.”

Hoseok stares at Y/N, eyes wide, mouth agape. And for too long that Y/N thought the cold must have frozen him all over.

“Hoseok, why are you staring like that? I am telling you, I like you too–hmppf!”

Hoseok is kissing her, his lips pressed softly against hers in a gentle peck. Before Y/N could process things in her head about what to do when the boy she likes started kissing her, Hoseok is already coaxing her lips to dance with his. And before long, Y/N is returning him a kiss with the same ardor as his. It’s not like her to suddenly make out with someone so publicly. Hell, it’s not even like her to kiss someone with such passion that the warmth she feels on her chest comes close as to the heat of the sun. But as Y/N stays in Hoseok’s embrace in the middle of the frosted park which contrasts their warm chests, everything just feels so right.

So right, as if fate just planned this very night for the two of them. Because, as their kiss comes into an end, Y/N and Hoseok both jolt at the drop of wetness that land on their heads. Y/N looks up and sees the familiar soft white snow falling from the dark night sky. The first snow. Right then deja vu sets in of how it was just one year ago she met this giggling boy in front of her at the very same time of the year.

“I guess the universe wants us to be together, too.” Hoseok smiles.

Y/N grins at him and sinks deeper into his embrace. “As preposterous that sounds given that the universe is, literally speaking, a no-higher living being, it is more preposterous that I am finding myself agreeing to and blushing because of this.”

“I can’t understand what you said but I think it means you like it too so I’m deciding this is one of the best blush-worthy moments I ever had,” Hoseok kisses the top of Y/N’s head, “and whatever you say won’t stop me from taking back what I said.” Y/N nuzzles her nose against his chest, smiling at the way she cannot tell her heartbeat apart from his–the beats beneath their chests in sync despite the incongruity in her words.

***

Loving Hoseok is easy. He is charming, generous, understanding, and everything Y/N ever wanted. Even more, nothing really changed from their friendship, just the addition of cheesy pick-up lines, sweet kisses here and there, hot make-out sessions which more often than not escalate into passionate (and very amazing) love-making. And Y/N loves her relationship with him as well for this. Because even if Hoseok succeeds in making her a soft mush for him, she cannot live her life without having him be the best-est friend she could ever have in her life.

But from all the things Y/N loves about Hoseok, her most favorite has to be his utter transparency. What she sees in him, is what she gets. Hoseok is unabashed in proclaiming his feelings for her. He does not get embarrassed in showing Y/N his love for her. And, Hoseok does not keep secrets from her. He just willingly tells everything about him to her, no euphemisms, no lies. Y/N guesses this is probably the reason why their fights never last too long. Moreover, this quality of his makes up for Y/N’s inability to effectively express her thoughts and feelings. He taught Y/N pure utter honesty that so many people have stigmatized for naivety, but actually felt so amazing. He also taught Y/N to trust and let down her walls for people so they can be able to love her. Hoseok inspires and motivates Y/N to become a better version of herself, not only for the sake of others, but also for herself, and she cannot be grateful enough for that.

Titles didn’t matter with Hoseok, with Y/N, and their relationship. What only matters is their labels for each other–boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers loved and in love. Hoseok does not encrypt his messages in a way that would match Y/N’s mental capacity – He just talks with her like the way he is, nonsense and eggplant emojis and all. Hoseok does not burden Y/N with heavy, unreasonable expectations. He just loves her and lets her be whatever she wants. He just stays by Y/N’s side as she freely learns from and works on her mistakes like every flawed human being. With Hoseok, Y/N knew what she deserves and she started to live her life the way she has always dreamed of–so flawed but so perfectly Y/N L/N who is unafraid of what the future may bring to her.

However, not everyone cannot fully comprehend Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok. Loving Hoseok may be easy but the environment surrounding their relationship is an entirely opposite scenario. For Hoseok’s and Y/N’s disregard of titles, does not guarantee everyone else around their relationship will do the same.

Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok spread throughout the campus like a Jeffree Star fight-controversy with another YouTuber in 2x speed. The entire university has gone berserk yet again, unable to fathom how someone who shines so bright like Hoseok can be together with someone like Y/N who dims other’s lights. And for other people, they cannot understand how such a happy-go-lucky academically-challenged student like Hoseok can even amuse such no-shit, genius brain of Y/N.

Almost everyone has something to say about their relationship. And, most often than not, they are negative. It didn’t help anything in their relationship as Y/N is already insecure as to why Hoseok even chose her when he can have any woman he wished. Y/N knows she’s difficult to be with. She struggles with expressing her feelings and thoughts. She even feels like she’s making things too hard for Hoseok. You see, Y/N’s a safe player. In whatever grounds she’s in — academics, social life, family ties — she always plays safe. Y/N finds it hard to not be so, especially when all her life, she has been groomed to be a person well-liked by everybody else — a person safe from any negative impression that may tarnish her reputation. So, when things get a little bit too hard with Hoseok, Y/N finds herself automatically heading for the exit.

Just like in one Wednesday night in August. Y/N had her fair share of fights with Hoseok. From the difficulties that tie with his popularity, her inability to show her feelings to him that sometimes makes him question her love, his procrastination and occasional lack of care for his academics, her nature to obsess over her studies that she tends to forget herself and everyone around her, to his numerous female friends who have the audacity to still flirt with him even if they all know he’s dating her — Y/N and Hoseok have fought about them all within their seven months of dating. And sure, they were already pretty bad fights given that they were immensely serious with Y/N and Hoseok ending up screaming at each other, giving each other cold shoulders, and ignoring each other for at most (usually) five days. But this Wednesday night was not like any of ther previous fights. Because this time, Y/N told Hoseok she wanted to break up with him.

“Will you stop for a second, Y/N?!”

Y/N swiftly turns around, tears brimming her swollen red eyes, “What do you want, Hoseok? I already said what I need to say. I am tired of constantly being the bad guy whenever we fight. I am tired of this, of you. I want to break up.”

“No, you don’t mean that,” Hoseok almost cries. He looks equally devastated as her — swollen eyes, pale face, trembling fingers. “N-no, you don’t mean that,” he repeats, this time, his voice breaking.

“Of course I mean them, Hoseok,” Y/N spits, “I never say things I do not mean. You know me.”

“I know you,” Hoseok retorts, “that’s why I am telling you right now you don’t mean telling me you’re tired of our relationship, of me. That you want to b-break up. B-because you’re Y/N,” he breathes out. “You seem cold but you actually care. You do not speak your thoughts or feelings aloud but act on them. Okay, maybe you speak them out, but you say it in a way most people do not understand so that still does not count. But, Y/N,” Hoseok reaches for her hand before she can even think of shaking off his hold, “I know you love me. Deep inside the deepest of your hypothalamus, like you said, I believe you love me. Or else, you wouldn’t stay when I told you to watch me dance alone, frustrated with the world. You wouldn’t put in effort befriending Taehyung and Jimin despite knowing what they all said about you in the past. You wouldn’t have told me you wanted to come with me to my hometown and meet my family for my dad’s birthday. And,” Hoseok looks down at his feet, “you wouldn’t have stayed with me this long knowing how annoying I can be and what everyone else has to say about us. So please, Y/N. Just please…stay. Let’s talk it out together. Don’t just break up with me. Please don’t just l-leave me alone.”

When Hoseok looks up at Y/N, it is with his brows scrunched together, eyes glazed over, and form almost kneeling in front of her. He holds her hands so tight, but yet so gentle, as if afraid if he clasped her fingers tighter, it will be too suffocating that she’ll slip away from him. He just looks at her and she cannot help but return his gaze. Y/N realizes right then, it may have been a bad decision to do so. For all she could see in his eyes is her reflection. Her and only her. It even seems as if he’s trying to keep the entirety of her as vivid as a memory can be. And maybe it’s because it’s the way he unabashedly tells her everything he loves about her. Or the way he remembers every single detail about her. Or how he knows her so well despite their relationship blooming at such a young age. But, they are all enough for Y/N to hold his hands tighter and let him engulf HER in his arms.

“H-Hobi–”

“S-see? You even still call me like that,” Hoseok mutters above her head and Y/N bites her lip as she clutches onto his jacket tighter.

“Hobi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean them. I’m not tired of you. I’m not tired of u-us. I do not want to break up with you. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Y/N lets out a sob and Hoseok hugs her tighter, running a hand over her hair, knowing it calms her down. “It’s just that everything’s been too much lately. The-the way your friends–”

“What did they do?” Hoseok’s voice deepens close into a low growl. Y/N gulps. “Please tell me, Y/N,” Hoseok says softly as he cups her face in his warm hands. Y/N bites her lip and looks away. She does not want to be that type of girlfriend who instigates a fight between their significant other and their friends. She does not want Hoseok to have a bad blood with people he cares about. But then, Y/N remembers their fight two months ago. That night when she confronted Hoseok about the consecutive late nights he has spent in the practice room, neglecting his studies and even his own health for the past two weeks. The moment Y/N cornered him about it, Hoseok broke down and told her everything — how he lacked the motivation to perform well in his recitals and how his course adviser told him to pull his shit together before he fucks up the nearing international dance competition.

“She told me that I’m dating you right now but why can’t I even pull my shit together like you do. That she doesn’t understand why you’re even dating me when you can date far more competent guys. That sooner or later, you’re going to break up with me. Because,” Hoseok sighs and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cheeks, a tear slipping down them instead, “look at me. I’m so sloppy. I’m such a loser—”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N interrupts him and Hoseok jolts. “You…you’re not a loser. Sloppy, yes, sometimes,” Hoseok winces and Y/N grabs his arms and pulls him toward her so she can hug him tight. “Hoseok, listen to me. I’m your lover. No one else’s but yours. I love you and I will not leave you. I do not care about other guys, if they are more competent or whatever. After all, competency is just a social construct designed to promote the societal standards that aim for conformity.” Y/N disentangles herself from him to cup his face in her hands. “Hoseok, you are not a loser. And, you’ll never be. How can you be at least an inch of one? You were the one who led countless competitions which won our university so many awards. Almost ALL the trophies in our campus’ Hall of Honor were all thanks to you. You were the one who helped our fashion design majors grab an opportunity with various labels after your runway a year ago became viral. You were also the one responsible for resurrecting countless dead orgs with actually good goals. They even received rewards from the local government because of the projects you arranged! You’re not a loser, Hobi. In fact, you are the opposite of loser. It’s just your prof is an ungrateful bitch, demeaning you like that when you’ve brought glory to her name as your program adviser. What a fucking asshole, I could have punched her in the face and—”

Hoseok detaches his lips from hers and smiles. “I can’t believe I’m starting to rub off of you. You just said your first curse word. Two even!”

“Damn you, Hoseok. I’m being serious.”

“And so am I. Thank you for cheering me up, Y/N. This is why I love you so much!”

Hoseok has always been honest to Y/N and she decides it’s only right for her to do the same.

Y/N looks up at him. “Nayeon, Sungyoon, and…Sara cornered me yesterday and I thought it will be about what you are recently up to. Why you were absent at yesterday’s practice. It turned out they did this high school toxic open-forum-like session where they told me all my shits and why I shouldn’t hang out you. They said you were no longer the Hoseok you used to be because I kept dragging you down. That I…do not deserve you and you should be with girls like you. And you know what, I thought so, too. Because, you have far better things ahead from you than tying you down here with me.”

“No one can tell what you deserve or not, Y/N,” Hoseok retorts. “Only you can. And, I know what you are thinking right now maybe the opposite of what you really think about yourself. But if I could help, I think you totally deserve me. Even more than that, honestly. Because, Y/N, you are not tying me down anywhere. In fact you are tying me up. Not literally but figuratively. Okay” Hoseok closes his eyes, “I know it doesn’t make sense—whatever I say doesn’t make sense on the regular basis, so what’s the difference—but, what I mean to say is, Y/N, you are keeping me afloat. You are keeping my head up from the expectations and shitstorms that is plaguing me. You are helping me stay alive and keep pushing through all the difficulties I face. And for that, I am eternally grateful for you. So,” Hoseok smiles, “do not let anything anyone else says about us get to you. Because, they don’t really know anything about me and they very much don’t know anything about you. They don’t get to judge. Not when they do not know how it feels to have the most amazing angel by your side.”

Y/N scrunches her face at him but she hugs him tight nevertheless. “Must you always be this cheesy and cringey?”

“Only for you, baby,” Y/N could feel Hoseok grin from the top of her head. “Also, I’m gonna have a talk with those girls so expect apologies coming your way. And if things go the other way,” Hoseok clicks his tongue, “expect a decrease in my friends.”

However, everything Hoseok spouted is easier said than done. Because truth be told, Hoseok thinks it is him who actually doesn’t deserve Y/N. She is intelligent but so is she kind. She’s mature and it is usually her who does most of the helping and progressing in their relationship. Most of all, it is more realistic to say, Y/N is the one who has far greater things ahead than him. And it became clearer to him the night she took him with her to her family’s home for one of her parents’ parties.

Y/N countlessly told Hoseok she didn’t need to attend it. She even highly advised him not to come with her. But Hoseok has forever been stubborn so of course when he told Y/N he wanted to meet her family, he did every bit of convincing that get him to where he is now — shaken and lost in the middle of a fucking science exhibit of a party. The night actually started out well. He introduced himself to every member of the L/N family, even distant ones who stayed in the farthest, most unnoticeable corners of Y/N’s house. Y/N’s family members welcomed him with smiles and actively talked with him. Her parents even handed him his plate of food themselves and invited him to spend Christmas with them.

It only started going downhill when it was time for the main event of the party—the what-have-you-been-up-to lately segment or what Y/N would like to call the “let the best bragger win.” Everyone started spewing their achievements for the year in a fashion that challenges the other party to disclose their far greater successes. Which, ultimately, insult the others for their lack of any. The party felt as if it was a battlefield with every member of Y/N’s family pitting their achievements against each other, no matter what context they are in—even if they are not of the same category to even compare. Next thing Hoseok knew, he was being dragged into the center of the conversation, with Y/N’s father asking him to tell his “revolutionary thoughts.”

Hoseok tried his best. He really did. He had recalled every lesson he learned in his Science-related GEs and even tried to apply them in the academic journals he saw Y/N reading. That’s why he doesn’t understand why every single time he opens his mouth, Y/N’s entire family is laughing at him. Is the Dual Nucleus Association found in fingerprints that funny? Hoseok didn’t take too long to ponder on it, for the next second, a hand is pulling him to the front doors of the L/N house. It takes another second for Hoseok to register Y/N was the one who’s dragging him onto the street in angry stomps.

“Y/N! Why did we go out?” Hoseok pulls on her arm, “We have to come back! It will be rude to your parents! I don’t want to leave a bad impression y’know–”

“It doesn’t matter, Hoseok!” Y/N whirls around, distraught, and Hoseok only notices just now her glazed eyes. Y/N chokes out, “Leaving an impression on them doesn’t matter because we have to get out NOW.”

“What? No, Y/N! That’s not appropriate! I–”

“Then is it appropriate for my parents and relatives’ to blatantly insult you right in your face?”

Hoseok takes a step back, “What? But they were laughing at me there. I guess my jokes are–”

“Hoseok, they were mocking you in there. We both hell know the fingerprint DNA trivia you were telling them is not a joke.”

“But your father said the Dual Nucleus Association I muttered was revolutionary and funny.”

Y/N closes her eyes as she releases a staggered sigh, “Hoseok, ‘revolutionary’ in my father’s dictionary meant ‘stupid.’” Hoseok scrunches his brows and Y/N breathes out, wishing she could let out as well the aggravation and loathing for her parents she has kept inside for so long. “He was making fun of you, Hobi. DNA does not stand for Dual Nucleus Association. It’s Deoxyribonucleic Acid. My father fucking knew what this means because he took a PhD in Microbiology and he didn’t even have the heart to correct you. He even put you up in front of everybody else and humiliate you without you even noticing it.”

“W-what?”

Y/N sighs for the nth time as she reaches for his hands. “Hoseok, I’m sorry I left you alone. This whole time, I didn’t know you were in my father’s care. It’s just that my cousin came to me and asked desperately for help about the verbal abuse he experiences at home. The way he asked for my help, I knew he’s about to-to blow up sooner or later. So I immediately went to his aid. And I guess I got so preoccupied trying to make him calm without triggering his panic attacks that I…did not see where you stayed in the party. Worse, I didn't fucking even know you were with my parents. I know this is not enough of an excuse and I have been a shitty girlfriend tonight. So I’m sorry, Hoseok. I’m deeply so so sorry. And right now, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes by telling you we should leave. Now. I cannot let any of them insult you more,” Y/N’s voice breaks and she raises her hand to wipe a tear that has cascaded down her cheeks, “I cannot, Hoseok, for so help me God, I will march over there and declare I want to denounce myself as a L/N.”

Hoseok doesn’t reply. He just nods at her and looks down at his feet. Y/N gulps down the anxiety building up in her larynx as she leads the two of them to the car he rented. She opts for the driver’s seat and hits the gas. Within minutes, the two of them are enveloped by the silent nightscape, a stark contrast to the cacophony of pride in her house.

“Hoseok,” the man turns to the sound of Y/N’s voice. “W-what else did my father say to you?”

Hoseok starts to fumble with the loose thread of his navy suit jacket. “Do you…really want to hear it?”

“Is it that bad?”

“Well, I-your dad questioned my ability to provide for you in the future. Because of my major and aspirations and all.”

Y/N turns to him, aghast, “What?! Why would he even say that? What, he started to forget women’s abilities to revert back to the traditional patriarchal views?! Fuck him!”

“I knew you would say that,” Hoseok says, chuckling softly. Y/N faces him again, this time perplexed as to why he is laughing. Hoseok reads her look and he clears his throat.

“When you told me I was being insulted in the party, I will admit I am offended. But, before that, during an earlier talk with your father, I was not the least bit upset.” Hoseok meets your eyes. “That time, I was scared. Immensely shit-scared.”

“I should have come to you first, not my cousin–”

“No, let me finish first.” Hoseok purses his lips. He then looks out of the car window, at the scarce stars on the sky. “I knew we are far apart from each other. It was obvious even before we got together. Hell, I do not even get the memes you send to me when we first started out as friends. Sometimes, I even get insecure that even if you are not really bestfriends with Namjoon, he seems to get everything you tell me you found at the lab. Just by listening to our conversations, he understands them all. So effortlessly at that. I even have to plead him to tutor me and dumb-translate the science-y things you tell me, while I dry my brains out trying to understand them. But when I talked with your father, tonight, how he reiterated your status and skills and their difference from mine…I have never been this scared in my life. Scared that what he said will come true—that you will realize how someone like me can never truly understand you ‘til the long run. That you will get tired of slowing your pace down for me…That you will eventually find someone more compatible with you–who also has a much more stable future ahead of just an aspiring dancer.” Hoseok turns toY/N and he reaches out for her left hand, her free hand. He clasps them in his hands and looks up at her, “But, I swear Y/N, I promise I will do my best. Your father may not be convinced but I want you to know. That I will do my best for you, Y/N. I will learn more for you. I will understand you more. I will improve my reputation into a much more respectable one. Hell, I can quit dance if I have to.”

Y/N gives Hoseok a pained look. “No, Hoseok, you will not quit dance. I do not want you to quit dance. It will be too unfair for you and I know you will regret it.”

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah…that sounds easier said than done.”

“You don’t have to do those things for me,” Y/N squeezes his hand, making him look back to her. “I actually enjoy helping you learn. I love that you goof off the way you want because when you do that, I am reminded people like you still exist today — people who are not afraid of being themselves. Because of that, you inspire me to live more. I also love that you put in the time learning the things I’m saying because it means you genuinely are interested about my thoughts and you are not afraid of women being smarter than you — something most guys fail at. But that’s because most of them are misogynistic, prideful men on their high horses. And, I know you’re not like that. Most of all, I love it when you dance. Because through it you freely express every bit of your emotion. Because, you’re transparent, Hoseok. You’re an open book and I like it the best because you don’t leave me hanging, confused, troubled, and worried about what you’re feeling, especially when you know I am already bad at reading emotions. You are my stable ground, Hoseok. You make me feel safe. And despite the bad fights we’ve been through, I know you’re always doing your best. How can we stay this long if not for you being the brighter one between us when it comes to communicating, knowing that splitting because of things that can be solved will only result in one hell of a horrible mistake?” Y/N turns to Hoseok and he looks at her with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. She smiles at this. “You have to know you’re more than enough, Hoseok. Like you said,” her smile grows wider, “no one can tell us what we deserve or not but ourselves. And with this, I know and feel that I deserve you, Hoseok. And you, me. What do you say?”

Hoseok’s response to that was not of a verbal one but a physical one—one that involved a feverish kiss on Y/N’s lips, and her jawline that led Y/N to park the car by the empty gasoline station. Feather-light kisses, desperate hands to grab each other as close as they can be to each other, Y/N indulges in Hoseok and him in her in a passionate love that burned so bright it rivals the sun. The only words that transpire during that fateful night was “I love you’s” and for Y/N and Hoseok, they are more than enough of an anchor of him to her and her to him as waves of obstacles come in your way.

All of these moments with Y/N have accumulated into Hoseok’s most wonderful memories in his life. And he still replays them in his head as another year of being her lover passes. Of course, problems never failed to arise as they manage their relationship. But, the ones caused by the comments of everyone in the university have lessened as Y/N and Hoseok have now graduated. Hoseok has left the university after he graduated, while Y/N stayed in the university as she applied for a Master’s degree in civil engineering.

Y/N still lives in her dorm for the convenience of teaching in the campus and studying after work. Meanwhile, Hoseok lived in an apartment in the city, close to the prestigious dance studio he works at. Their schedules are most often than not, amiss, and the distance between them can be sometimes frustrating. However, what remains the biggest obstacle is everyone’s opinions about the two of them. Sure, they were not as restrictive as what the two of them have experienced in the university. But it didn’t mean it hurt less when people say how they never thought someone as fun as Hoseok will choose someone so boring like Y/N, or how Hoseok’s intellect was a down-grader for her respectable reputation, saying she has a tasteless choice in choosing partners. Although these problems may get a little overwhelming, the two of them never let them get in between their relationship.

Hence, Y/N and Hoseok are still madly in love like the first year they have started dating. So in love that Hoseok felt it is now the time to propose to Y/N. For anymore day without her officially bounded with him, when you already own every piece of his heart, is something Hoseok cannot take any longer. He wants Y/N to be his partner for the years to come, his significant other for forever, and the only person he wakes up to and sees last in his day and nights for the rest of his entire life. Hoseok knows this and he has never been surer in his life.

This is the reason why Hoseok is where he is today: clad in an ugly Christmas sweater and mismatched socks, with a troubled look on his face. Hoseok may have only realized he wanted to marry Y/N in late November, but he was able to make an intricate proposal plan to execute before this year can end. Today is Y/N’s free day and he has classes that have ended early. Lucky for him, Jimin is free to take her out for some last-minute gift-shopping in the afternoon so Hoseok can have ample time to decorate Y/N’s dorm with hearts and diagrams of the hypothalamus (because “No, Hoseok, we do not say I love you from the deepest corner of my heart, but from the hypothalamus. We do not feel from the heart. It just pumps us blood”). Hoseok will have the gifts he bought for Y/N delivered that very same day to complete his decorations (and to also spoil her even more). He will cook Y/N her favorite dishes and make her hot cocoa even though he very much likes eggnog more, just because she likes the sweet chocolate beverage. He even requested his orchestra friends Yoongi, Jinyoung, Seokjin, and Sandeul, to play Jingle Bell Rock (“in cursive”) on the far side of the hallway so when Jimin drops Y/N off, she can have her favorite Christmas song as her background music when she steps inside her room and gets surprised.

That is why when his heart and hypothalamus decorations actually looked shit, the arrival of the gifts was delayed ‘til tomorrow, and the meals he cooked looked inedible—not to say the hot choco looked like a mess too and totally un-aesthetic—Hoseok finds himself frozen in his place next to Y/N’s Christmas tree, looking as if he was constipated for ten days. Worse, his girlfriend is already standing by her door frame, kicking the door close like it was just any other day.

Y/N hangs her coat on the hanger and puts her shopping bags on top of her wide cabinet. She nonchalantly glances at him, “Hoseok, what are you doing there?”

Hoseok feels sweat run down his face in waterfalls. If Y/N is surprised he was standing stupidly next to her tree, she did not show it. But right now, Hoseok’s concern is her seeing the decorations he made chucked in a large paper bag he hid behind the tree at the last minute. Of course, it is poorly hidden. He plays with the collar of his sweater “I…um, I–”

“Nevermind. I guess this is one of our spontaneous date nights you ironically always plan. You should inform me next time, you know, so I can prepare for you as well,” Y/N smiles at him. “Come sit with me.” She walks to the sofa by the Christmas tree and pats the seat next to her. Hoseok scrambles to sit beside her and tries not to look like the dumbest fool in the world. Y/N did not get surprised, the orchestra’s music is barely heard inside as the cold wind of early winter overrides it, and he looks totally shit. How can he propose to her now, huh? All of his plans are ruined!

“Di-did you eat already?” Hoseok asks, hands sweaty on his sweatpants. “I made you your favorite.”

“Umm…yeah,” Y/N bites her lip, guilty. “I was already hungry before Jimin and I can finish our shopping and I really felt a great need to devour some pizza today.” She reaches for her small satchel and produces a folded paper bag. “I saved some for you. We can eat it later while we watch Netflix.”

“O-okay,” Hoseok nervously laughs. His eyes land on the pink mug on the dining table. He looks back at Y/N, “D-do you want to drink something? I made you hot cocoa.”

“Ooh, I’ll drink it later. I just had a sweet choco milkshake before I got here,” Y/N bites her lips again in guilt. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t know you prepared these stuff for me. If I had known sooner I would have never even stepped out of my dorm today.”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok pulls a smile and he tries not to look a tad bit upset about the failure of his plans, because he knows Y/N will immediately recognize that look.

And, he wasn’t wrong. “Why, Hobi?” Y/N cups his face to make him turn to her, “did I do something wrong?

“No,” Hoseok looks away. “It’s just, my plans…didn’t work out today.”

“What plans?”

Hoseok immediately feels his ass on fire. Did he just almost give himself away? He cannot just blurt out he wants to marry her! He wanted it to be special and he cannot have that happen in just her dorm with his shitty-looking outfit and almost-burned food. He wants Y/N to remember this day and he ain’t taking the risk of letting any bad memories mess up his proposal. And so, Hoseok sighs and decides he has to abort the plan and schedule it some other day. He’s just gonna make an excuse for now. “Well, I just thought we can make this random Thursday special y’know? Keep up with the aim of my spontaneous dates–good surprises making life much better without needing a reason to be. So I just made some food and stuff for the fun of it. It’s just a normal day surprise.”

“Oh, then I’m glad today is really spontaneous dates today. I may have…foiled your plans, but look, I happened to have a surprise for you!”

Hoseok tilts his head, “What is it?”

Y/N grins at him before turning around and fumbles for something in her bag. Then the next second, Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe is suddenly blaring loud from her phone.

“Y/N, did you seriously just play Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe in speaker mode?”

“Oh, don’t be an in-denial bitch. I know this is your favorite Christmas song. A good song has to create the aesthetic and mood for tonight,” Y/N chuckles, “Here, Hoseok, my present for you.” She hands him a box wrapped in a fancy green sparkling wrapper with a red bow tied around it. It was medium-sized, enough for one of his favorite KAWS models to fit inside.

“Present?” Hoseok asks, feeling both joy and guilt respectively swell in his heart and pit in his stomach. Joy, because Y/N is to add another model to his growing collection. And guilt, because he didn’t bring her anything worth the same as her gift. But as he tears open the box, another fancy green box just stares back at him. He looks up at Y/N with squinted eyes. “I see what you did there, sneaky missy.” She just chuckles at him and Hoseok continues to unbox her gift, only to have another box inside. Hoseok wonders what made Y/N think of doing this infamous wrapping technique for her gift when she wasn’t even that much into wrapping gifts. She always just give him gifts in standard wrapping paper, messily taped all over around. Moreover, what even is her gift and how small does it have to be? Because now, Hoseok’s hands are getting tired of unboxing box after box and the gift is now currently the size of a stress ball!

“Y/N, can you just tell me your gift? I’m getting tired. I can open it tomorrow instead and we can just get straight to Netflix tonight.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N laughs, patting his shoulders. “Keep unboxing.”

Hoseok continues forth with the unboxing and his heart starts to sink to his stomach as the box got smaller and smaller. This is probably a prank. One to get back at him for telling Y/N last year he bought her her favorite gift for their monito event with Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Only for him to arrive with nothing but a bow on his head and shamelessly declare to everyone that he is her gift. Nothing must be inside this box to contain a gift so small. The box in his hand is now just the size of a small toy car!

Hoseok sighs as he opens the box. Another green box will appear and then he’ll see the paper saying “Pranked you, Hobi!”

But it does not.

For the box on Hoseok’s hand right now, is gaping open to him right now. And all he sees is a sparkling, silver ring embellished with emeralds that seem to form waves around the base of the band. A fucking ring is sitting right on top of his hand.

Hoseok gapes and just stares. Far too long that Y/N decides to break the silence. “Surprise! I bought you an engagement ring! With green emeralds just like your favorite color.” She grins at him as she holds Hoseok’s hands in hers, making him turn to her while he stays jaw ajar.

Y/N suddenly feels self-conscious and unconfident. This is not the reaction she is expecting. She starts to fear if she’ll spend the coming Holidays boyfriend-less. Just by looking at Hoseok’s stupified face, it looks everything is happening too fast and too sudden tonight for her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she says, “I-I know this may come off as a really big of a surprise. After all, this is an engagement ring and right now I am trying to propose to you. Barely, even. So, of course, this is definitely a shocker. Especially when we only just spent two years dating. Still too early for a proposal to come, as what others will usually expect,” Y/N’s voice breaks.

She wrings her hands together, her feet trembling beneath her, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But, Hoseok, in these two years I have spent with you…I learned what it felt like to be loved and be in love with you. We fight, yes. Healthily usual even. But, at the end of the day, everything still feels worth it. And I guess,” Y/N smiles, “I cannot get enough of it. I cannot get enough of you. Being your girlfriend no longer satisfied me. I now want to be your wife. I want to be the only person you’ll stress over science just to impress. I want to be the person who’ll be your home. The one you will come home to, wake up to, and sleep next to every night, every single day. I want to be your partner-in-crime, especially when we have kids and we’ll play some game I never heard of but will still enjoy in the end just because you like it. But only if you want kids, hehe.” Y/N laughs awkwardly and scratches her nape. “Hoseok, I know I am clumsy in saying my feelings for you. Today is my first time saying everything so honest and raw like this so I know this may shock you. God, you don’t know how many times I practiced this speech in my office. Other professors must already be thinking I’m going crazy—anyway, what I only want to say is,” Y/N reaches for Hoseok’s hand and kisses it. “Hoseok, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life.” When she looks up at him, she says, “And it will only happen if you’d also love to be by my side forever as well. So what do you say?”

“W-what, I will say?” Hoseok repeats, still shaken. However, he’s so happy he cannot help the wide grin splitting on his face. “Yes, Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

“R-really?” Y/N’s releases a relieved sigh, fingers wiping the tears that have formed on her eyes. “T-Then, why did you look like as if you’re about to walk out on me when you opened the box?”

Hoseok cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears. “Because you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Y/N scowls at this and hits his chest, hard. Hoseok coos at her as he hugs her tight and chuckles, “You’re an asshole because you headed out straight for my heart—hook, line, and sinker — and now I am completely blown away when I was supposed to be the first one to do so. Seriously, Y/N, I did not expect this to happen this way. Not when I also prepared a surprise for you tonight.”

Y/N’s brows raise in curiosity. Hoseok unzips his gym bag on the sofa and turns back to her, now with a red velvet box on his hands.

Hoseok pops open the box, a ring of the same design as the one she bought him stares back at her. But this one, instead of green emeralds, is embellished with blue emeralds, her favorite color. Right then and there, Y/N wanted to cry.

Hoseok rubs his nape. “I’m supposed to propose to you tonight as well. But you beat me right to it and now I forgot my speech.”

Y/N chuckles at that as she wipes away the tears that have formed yet again on her eyes. Hoseok smiles as he squeezes her hand. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll skip on this once-in-a-lifetime’s opportunity to propose to you,” Hoseok looks at her, “Y/N, I love you. And I know forever can be a heavy word and sometimes love cannot solve every problem that may come our way. But Y/N, what I said two years ago hasn’t changed. I will try my best. For you, I will. And we may be young but I know you and I are capable to make us work for as long as time can let us. Because you are Y/N, and I’m Hoseok. People may be against us but we know with each other, we are the best we can ever be. We deserve each other. We need each other. But most of all, we love each other. That’s all we need. Me and you. You and me.” After he breathes out, Hoseok cups Y/N’s cheeks and she leans forward and interlocks their lips in a soft kiss.

Y/N grabs onto Hoseok’s ugly green sweater and deepens the kiss, letting her mouth do the talking for her and him. For no words can be enough to express everything that is settling in their hearts tonight — euphoric bliss, the sweet feeling of triumph. Although Y/N can feel a tinge of the uncertainty of what may come to the two of them in the future grappling on her nerves, there resides in her heart the greater courage that despite the unpredictability of life, Y/N knows she can manage it with the constant she now has by her side — Hoseok. And for him, her. Because, Y/N is certain this is the most right decision she has ever made in her life: loving him. And, Hoseok proves it is the same for him as when the kiss comes into a close, he whispers on her lips, “Guess the déjà vu tonight is really working at its best. Fate really wanted us to be together.”

Y/N grins at him, her forehead bumping into his, “And where’s your proof, future Mr. Y/N L/N?”

Hoseok presses a kiss on Y/N’s forehead, on her cheeks, on her nose, then at the corner of her ear. He whispers, “Look outside.”

And there outside, white droplets fall from the sky, lighting up the near-black horizon while frosting up the window panes. It is the first snow. Y/N smiles. What Hoseok said to her when she reciprocated his love confession doesn’t seem so preposterous now. It seems like fate really tied the two of them up together as she first met and started dating Hoseok when the first snow fell. There’s a saying that whoever you’re with during the first snow, you will be with that person for a long time. Y/N and Hoseok have already been living proof of that for being together in three years—friendship plus dating days combined — amidst whatever people say against them two.

And Y/N hopes, that as she and Hoseok promise forever to each other tonight, the saying will come true. Because she wants the two of them to be together for a very, very, very long time. After all, Hoseok is right. She is Y/N and he is Hoseok and together, they are the best they can ever be, titles and achievements be damned. The weather may be cold during these pinnacle moments of her and his relationship but their hearts are warm and cozy, and there is nothing more Y/N could ask for.

Epilogue:

“You know, Y/N, my original proposal was beautiful, I’m sure I’ll have you bawling tonight.”

Y/N gives him a look and Hoseok laughs, “Good thing they’re gone now. D’you know I actually wrote my entire proposal in my hands? They just got erased because my hands have become so sweaty when I chucked away the decorations I made for you.”

“What decorations?”

Hoseok pulls on the collar of his sweater, “Cut-outs of hearts and hypothalamus?”

“R-really? You remembered what I said to you three years ago?”

“Of course, babe,”Hoseok smiles, “It’s you. How can I forget that? But they’re not available anymore as I already threw them away. They looked like shit.”

“Where did you throw them?”

“In a paper bag….by your Christmas tree–hey, why are you picking it up?”

Y/N turns towards him, smiling, her hands gently holding the crushed hearts and hypothalamus cut-outs. “Because you made it for me, Hoseok. Of course they hold value to me. It’s you.”

“You’re really a Grinch, you know? You’re making me cry with your sweetness and beauty when I should be jumping up and down with joy right now.”

“….Do you always have to be cheesy like this?”

“Only for you, babe. And get used to it. You have a forever to experience this one-in-a-million love from the one and only Jung Hoseok.”

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry my Christmas gift for you all was late! My requirement deadlines in uni ended up until Dec. 16 and so for the majority of December, I was solely focused on uni stuff. I tried limiting myself from using page breakers in this fic, a challenge I put on myself to train my skills again in doing transitions in my writing. This story is inspired by the rivalry of science and art majors in our uni in my first year! Also! I hoped you guys appreciate my take on @kwritersworld’s prompt. I want to incorporate it in a very unexpected way, while at the same time, reflects my character in a way I‘ve never done before. OC here is a bit grumpy and lacks social skills to be friendly so I interpreted her as an everyday-Grinch hehe). Lastly, @bts-poetry, I really enjoyed doing mini Q&As with you! I hope you like this gift and I also hope we can talk more in the future!

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spoonhacks · 4 years ago

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My Fibro Journey and How I Came Back from Rock Bottom

This not advice. But this is a true story, and it’s time I shared my Fibro journey. I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia just as college was ending. This is not to say it began then, but it came to head enough to finally get an answer. This came about a year and a half after my Interstitial Cystitis diagnosis, and I was in BAD shape. I was 90 lbs, deteriorating, and everything winded me. The pain was constant and completely overwhelming. I had thrown every last drop of my energy into finishing my college thesis and graduating from a school I had worked SO hard at. When it finally commenced, I felt lost. I was depleted from the effort and it was 2011 and the economy was in shambles. Having nowhere else to go, I moved into my dad’s spare room in Massachusetts, miles away from the state I had always called home, my precious Florida warmth, and the love of my life. I was, unsurprisingly, miserable, and my health tanked immediately. I was cold all the time. No amount of blankets helped because I wasn’t generating my own heat. I remember spending Thanksgiving eve in the emergency room because an Interstitial Cystitis flare had caused a UTI to back up and give me yet another kidney infection and I had a soaring fever. Things were toxic with my dad. His cure for everything is to get up at 6am and be busy busy busy and I was in desperate need of rest. When it became obvious to me finding a job was not happening, I started an Etsy shop for my crafts with the limited energy I had. It pulled in maybe $200 a month but it felt good to be doing one small thing. A few months later the love of my life arranged to follow me to New England and secured a place for us in the apartment above his father’s house. We were together again but things were tense, his dad is occasionally a monster, and it wasn’t long before we were moving again. My health was awful and we were broke as a joke. I was sleeping 12 hours a day and spending the rest of my time trying to figure out what kind of life I was going to be able to have. I was severely depressed. We moved to an absolute shit-hole of a apartment in a bad neighborhood. Rent was $850/month for 280 square feet. We could barely afford it, and mostly lived off of my partner’s disability check and food stamps. My small savings was gone. We fought about money a lot. The Etsy shop brought in maybe $300 now, but it was clear this was not going to cover everything for a long time, if ever. My health only continued to decline and I felt utterly useless. Some days I was too sore to even get out of bed. The stress was unbearable as I watched everything in my life spiral. I honestly felt like if something didn’t change and soon, I was going to die. I thought back to the last thing I’d done right: my college thesis at art school. It took me forever to choose what medium to do the project in as there were a few I’d been practicing proficiently. I kept asking myself: “What am I the best at? What am I the best at?” and got nowhere. Finally I asked myself “What am I the worst at? What medium am I absolutely shit at that I would love to do but never learned how?” And the answer was pen and ink. A few months later I graduated with a pen and ink portfolio with one of two A’s in my professor’s senior class. So here I was, applying to design jobs and retail jobs and anything else I thought I might be good at with 0 responses for months on end. Then, instead, I asked myself what I was the worst at-- manual labor! After all, grocery shopping would knock me out until the next day. I realized this was insane to even consider and I might literally die. But I was so low it didn’t matter. If I continued wasting away like this I was going to die anyway. I knew this in my heart. Having cared for horses as a kid I started applying for barn jobs in the area. I remember straightening myself up and forcing myself to look energetic and animated for the interviews. I finally got a job. I was terrible at it. Shoveling for hours and pushing around a 300lb wheelbarrow, imagine! I could not lift a hay bale (they are about 65 lbs). But, I got up at 4:45 in the morning and drove to work in the snow before the plows came and always got to work on time. I worked only weekend days and by Sunday night I would have to make sure there was a crockpot meal going because I knew I would collapse at the end of the day. I cried in the car on the way home every single shift. My body was on fire. Mondays I could not get out of bed. The pain was immeasurable and I spent most of the day crying and had my partner help me to the bathroom. I spent the whole week recovering and patching myself up enough to get to my next shift on Saturday. But I promised myself something: that I would never complain, not to anyone at work, and not even to myself in my head. I imagined myself as a monk. Chop wood, carry water. I got fired. Then I got another barn job and got fired. Then I got another one and got fired again. The 4th job was still hard, but I did not get fired. I could now lift the hay bales. I gained 20 lbs (entirely muscle) and my body was completely different. Instead of being carried to the bathroom on Monday, I could transport myself to the couch and do basic self-care activities. I could do my crafts during the week again and between the two income streams I could afford my half of living expenses and was very slowly socking away a tiny, tiny nest egg that would eventually become the start up capital for my business. Two years had passed since mucking my first stall. My Fibro was not cured by any means but my IC was somewhat in remission and I was doing much better. Daily life got easier. After all, compared to hay bales, lifting the pasta pot while making dinner was less of a big deal. I eventually left the barn job and got a job doing landscaping and construction-- more manual labor! My new boss was disabled too and used a walker on the job site. He was also a Buddha in a blue collar. After having kept my illness a secret for 2 years of barn jobs I could finally tell a boss the truth and it was a relief. He understood me and always gave me the jobs I could flourish at. I learned a lot from him, did legitimately good work, made slightly better money, and moved out of the shit-hole apartment to an art community, which was an important step forward on the path toward opening my own business and doing art full time. During the second year of running my shop I realized I didn’t need a second job anymore and that it would be the first year in the last 5 where I wouldn’t have to dig any holes.

I’d risked it all, every last drop of my health. It could have killed me. And the agony was indescribable, but I would do it again. My body is changed forever and even years since I have last worked manual labor I am still improved for it and much more active than I was in those dark years right after college. Everything I have now I owe to that one, insane decision I made at rock bottom. This is not advice. Take what you will from my story. I still despise people who say “exercise will cure Fibro if you just tried harder :) :) :)” or some stupid shit like that. None of them know how dangerous this was or how much suffering I endured. It could have easily gone the other way. There were days my partner saw the condition I was in and begged me to stop. I told him with a roar in my voice if I didn’t keep going I was going to die. I don’t regret it. I have less pain now, consistently, than I did before I went through all that and I still try to keep up my fitness level so I never go back there. Thank you for reading my story. I can’t recommend my path, but if you come away with one thing from this, just know that there is a path forward, somewhere, and perhaps in the most unlikely of places.

#fibromyalgia #chronic pain #personal #chronically ill #disabled

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years ago

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OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT FEATURE

They seemed to have lost their virginity at an average of about 14 and by college had tried more drugs than I'd even heard of. From their point of view, as big company executives, they were less able to start a company, it doesn't seem as if Larry and Sergey seem to have felt the same before they started Google, and so far there are few outside the US, because they don't have layers of bureaucracy to slow them down. It meant that a the only way to get rich.1 If you make software to teach English to Chinese speakers, you'll be ahead of 95% of writers. We arrive at adulthood with heads full of lies.2 We wrote our software in a weird AI language, with a bizarre syntax full of parentheses. That's an extreme example, of course, that you needed $20,000 in capital to incorporate.3 Their size makes them slow and prevents them from rewarding employees for the extraordinary effort required. Doing what you love in your spare time.4 Young professionals were paying their dues, working their way up the hierarchy. By giving him something he wants in return.

Once they saw that new BMW 325i, they wanted one too.5 If you simply manage to write in spoken language. Languages less powerful than Blub are obviously less powerful, because they're missing some feature he's used to. The kind of people you find in Cambridge are not there by accident.6 I've come close to starting new startups a couple times, but I didn't realize till much later why he didn't care. We'd interview people from MIT or Harvard or Stanford must be smart. Indians in the current Silicon Valley are all too aware of the shortcomings of the INS, but there's little they can do about it. When you're too weak to lift something, you can always make money from such investments.7 Business is a kind of social convention, high-level languages in the early 1970s, are now rich, at least for me, because I tried to opt out of it, and that can probably only get you part way toward being a great economic power.8 It must have seemed a safe move at the time. At the end of the summer.9

It's not merely that you need a scalable idea to grow.10 How much stock should you give him? Users love a site that's constantly improving. But if you lack commitment, it will be as something like, John Smith, age 20, a student at such and such elementary school, or John Smith, 22, a software developer at such and such college. There are two things different here from the usual confidence-building exercise.11 But it means if you made a serious effort. Bill Gates out of the third world.12 What's going on? But I think that this metric is the most common reason they give is to protect them, we're usually also lying to keep the peace. The kind of people you find in Cambridge are not there by accident.13

Frankly, it surprises me how small a role patents play in the software business, startups beat established companies by transcending them. The problem is that the cycle is slow. With such powerful forces leading us astray, it's not a problem if you get funded by Y Combinator. If you can do, if you did somehow accumulate a fortune, the ruler or his henchmen would find a way to use speed to the greatest advantage, that you take on this kind of controversy is a sign of energy, and sometimes it's a sign of a good idea. Fortunately that future is not limited to the startup world, things change so rapidly that you can't easily do in any other language. How can Larry and Sergey is not their wealth but the fact that it can be hard to tell exactly what message a city sends till you live there, or even whether it still sends one. They build Writely.14 I'm not sure that will happen, but it's the truth. Stanford students are more entrepreneurial than Yale students, but not because of some difference in their characters; the Yale students just have fewer examples.

And whatever you think of a startup. In the US things are more haphazard. I see a couple things on the list because he was one of the symptoms of bad judgement is believing you have good judgement. There are a couple catches. Instead of being positive, I'm going to use TCP/IP just because everyone else does.15 Being profitable, for example, or at the more bogus end of the race slowing down. An example of a job someone had to do.16 But actually being good. There are a lot of people were there during conventional office hours.17

I'll tell you about one of the most surprising things we've learned is how little it matters where people went to college.18 In Lisp, these programs are called macros. That's where the upper-middle class convention that you're supposed to work on it. And since most of what big companies do their best thinking when they wake up on Sunday morning and go downstairs in their bathrobe to make a conscious effort to keep your ideas about what you should do is start one.19 The most powerful wind is users. We're just finally able to measure it. And not only did everyone get the same yield. VCs need to invest in startups, at least by legal standards. Ten years ago, writing applications meant writing applications in C. If you have to operate on ridiculously incomplete information.

Notes

Foster, Richard Florida told me about several valuable sources. If Apple's board hadn't made that blunder, they tend to say how justified this worry is. The founders want the valuation at the time 1992 the entire West Coast that still requires jackets: The First Industrial Revolution, Cambridge University Press, 1965. Yes, there would be enough to be a win to include things in shows is basically zero.

Different kinds of startups that has become part of your mind what's the right mindset you will fail.

But although I started using it out of loyalty to the founders' salaries to the traditional peasant's diet: they had first claim on the one hand they take away with the earlier stage startups, just monopolies they create rather than admitting he preferred to call them whitelists because it reads as a kid, this is the notoriously corrupt relationship between the government. As the name Homer, to mean starting a business, A. The Department of English Studies. Yes, strictly speaking, you're pretty well protected against such tricks initially.

There are also the 11% most susceptible to charisma. Every language probably has a word meaning how one feels when that partner re-tells it to profitability on a road there are no longer needed, big companies to say that YC's most successful startups of all the page-generating templates are still expensive to start over from scratch, rather than ones they capture.

There are two simplifying assumptions: that the Internet, and judge them based on revenues of 1. If the company goes public. This is one resource patent trolls need: lawyers. When that happens.

The only launches I remember are famous flops like the bizarre consequences of this type of proficiency test any apprentice might have 20 affinities by this, though more polite, was starting an outdoor portal. The Duty of Genius, Penguin, 1991, p. The danger is that in practice signalling hasn't been much of observed behavior. When I say in principle is that intelligence doesn't matter in startups tend to be when I was genuinely worried that Airbnb, for example, the startup after you buy it despite having no evidence it's for sale.

Another thing I learned from this experiment: set aside an option pool. So if they don't want to start a startup in question usually is doing badly in your country controlled by the government. But in a company grew at 1% a week for 4 years.

We added two more investors. The reason this subject is so hard to imagine how an investor, and that often doesn't know its own momentum. We think. I'm talking here about everyday tagging.

They thought most programming would be possible to bring corporate bonds to market faster; the point of a large organization that often creates a rationalization for doing so much to generalize.

Many people feel good. So instead of being interrupted deters hackers from starting hard projects. The idea is that it was overvalued till you see them, initially, were ways to make your fortune? In fact the decade preceding the war.

One father told me about a form that would appeal to investors.

Some graffiti is quite impressive anything becomes art if you tell them to justify choices inaction in particular took bribery to the traditional peasant's diet: they hoped they were only partly joking. If a big angel like Ron Conway had angel funds starting in the first phase. You're going to create one of those you can eliminate, do not try too hard at fixing bugs—which, if they stopped causing so much from day to day indeed, is due to the table.

The hardest kind of gestures you use the wrong ISP. But they've been trained to expect the second component is empty—an idea is stone soup: you post a sign saying this cupboard must be kept empty. The two guys were Dan Bricklin and Bob Frankston. I have set up grant programs to run an online service, and they were, they'd be called unfair.

My work represents an exploration of gender and sexuality in an era of such high taxes?

So the most visible index of that, in one of the markets they serve, because she liked the iPhone SDK. For example, because a it's too hard to pick the former, because it is.

If you ask that you're small and traditional proprietors on the side of the junk bond business by Michael Milken; a new airport.

The biggest exits are the only audience for your side project. You're not one of their portfolio companies. He did eventually graduate at about 26.

A lot of time on schleps, but he doesn't remember which.

When I talk about startups. It's also one of the statistics they use the wrong algorithm for generating their frontpage. The reason Y Combinator only got 38 cents on the other: the source of food.

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hollywooduniversityalumnus · 4 years ago

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7. all filled up with things benign

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Much like any other university, Hollywood University required a metric fuck-ton of paperwork to be submitted for approval of an extended leave of absence from classes. However, unlike most universities, Hollywood U encouraged such leaves, under the condition that they were for career-related endeavours, like a six-week film shoot overseas or back-to-back tapings of a new television show being optioned for one of the many streaming services. Not only would the student receive invaluable “real world” experience, a credit for their resume, and financial compensation, but the university could leverage the experience for positive publicity (and, therefore, receive financial compensation as well).

Though Hollywood U professors stressed the importance of finding work in the industry while studying, most of the students attending the university stuck to using their class projects as resume builders and spent their free time partying and cavorting around California. Those students typically found themselves scrambling to find work once they did graduate, as they had not built enough connections and rapport to be personally contacted for a job. It was sad to see aspiring directors and actors with untapped potential head back home with their heads down and dreams dashed.

Still, Thomas thought, if Hollywood U wanted faculty and students alike to enthusiastically take part in school-sanctioned leaves, they ought to consider making the paperwork less tedious.

He stared down the stack of paperwork that Miss Schuyler had so kindly left for him to deal with. It wasn’t as thick as the stack Priya had once left him – a list of complaints and observations about the students she shared with him, which he promptly recycled, because even he had a limit to his negativity – but it was daunting to look at, especially since he knew that he had to carefully read every word of it to ensure that his student’s participation in Penn Cattrall’s yet-to-be-titled film wasn’t going to end the same way her experience with Clash at Sunset did.

And, of course, to see what he had to do to keep her on track with the rest of her peers. Of all her professors, he had been the obvious choice to administer the work she would need to complete whilst filming, and he was not looking forward to the extra work he would have to do for it.

Knowing there was nothing else to do but dive in, he set down his mug of coffee and situated himself in his seat, taking a moment to adjust the lamp on his desk before pulling down the first of the many stapled stacks.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Two and a half hours later, Thomas set down his third coffee refill and rubbed between his eyebrows. Behind him, the world beyond the window grew dimmer, and the hallway around his office swallowed up in silence. Certain he was the only one still in that wing of the school, perhaps even on that side of campus, he took a moment to get up and stretch, mind still whirring over everything he had read.

She was due to leave in three days’ time for France. The contracts he read didn’t say anything about the plot of the film she was leading, but he guessed by the extra paperwork regarding health and safety liabilities while filming in the catacombs of Paris that it had something to do with the horrors of being lost in a claustrophobic, labyrinthine setting surrounded by the dead.

Along with the liability clauses, there was a lot said about the safety of the stunt work she’d be performing herself, which he’d flagged with a sticky note. More sticky notes were used to mark certain lines that he needed further elaboration on, and parts of the contracts that seemed impossible to enforce from far away.

It had taken him what felt like eons to get to what was the most relevant part for him: the continuing education contract.

But the words that were so important for him to digest, as he would be the one to hold her to them, swam in front of his eyes as he quickly became lost in thought. Still stuck on the tidbits of information sprinkled within the documents, breadcrumbs that piece together a vague picture of what Miss Schuyler was to be doing during her six-week leave. It bothered him that he was so bothered, but he couldn’t help it.

How was she going to react to being in the depths of the catacombs? She had difficulty just sitting in the dark for too long.

And then: does she even know what she signed up for?

Penn Cattrall should’ve given her a copy of the script. Should’ve given her a head’s up of what was expected (including the stunts that she was apparently doing herself). Should’ve gotten to know her before giving her such a challenging role.

Thomas’s fingers hovered over the keyboard of his laptop before he even realized he’d opened it.

I should warn her, he thought. What if she doesn’t know?

And then that pesky second opinion in his head, another side of himself, countered, She has to know already. After everything that happened with Anders Stone and Richard Sheridan, she would have read everything Penn Cattrall’s people sent over with a fine-toothed comb. She wouldn’t agree to this without knowing.

But what if she did?

Thomas slowly lowered his laptop’s screen and stared at the brand logo on the back. The edges of a small sticker, one from his college days that he’d stumbled upon when sorting his attic, were peeling off, and he pressed his fingers down to try and flatten them. It was a simple rectangular sticker of a quote. A memory of Yvonne purchasing him that sticker at a street fair near their campus bubbled up, but he pressed down with his fingers as if to pop it.

The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.

Though he was remarkably awarded for a fairly new director, Penn Cattrall did not yet have the power behind his name to blow dozens of millions of dollars on a single film. It had taken Thomas two films and just as many Audrey Awards to get there himself. Though the estimated five million dollar budget for the film was nothing to scoff at, Thomas knew that, after taking into account the portion of the funds that would be exchanged for access to the off-limits areas in which they’d be filming, as well as all the equipment that would be used to capture the film and keep the cast and crew safe down below, the true budget of the film was going to be quite tight indeed.

That would be a limitation, a box that would force Penn Cattrall and his crew to think outside of it without breaking the bank or disrupting the production. It could be done; after Spielberg and the Jaws crew sunk so much money into creating the mechanical shark that famously rarely worked, the director’s decision to omit the sighting of the shark until much later in the film became one of the most memorable techniques to build suspense in film. Limitation worked then.

But Margot . . .

Since that night on that gaudy set, he wondered how she coped with the memories of her past. He’d seen her sitting in darkened rooms before – like in the auditorium watching Spencer Yamaguchi’s one-man musical – but there were still light sources, still a feeling of being among a crowd, of safety. But he’d also seen – well, heard - her on that set, crying to herself.

How would she react to long hours of being deep below ground, surrounded by the remains of those who passed long ago? Penn Cattrall wouldn’t be so cruel as to make her film in complete darkness, but the catacombs definitely weren’t known for making people feel safe. Nor, Thomas guessed, would the characters be in the catacombs with perfectly working light sources, if this was a horror film like all his others. Sure, there had to be breaks where they came up for air, food, and sunlight. But what of those hours of filming in near darkness, amongst death and decay?

Was her past her limitation?

More importantly, would – could – she work with it?

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Miss Schuyler. Thank you for arriving on time for once.”

Displeased with being called into his office on a Friday morning, Margot lazily fell into the chair opposite his desk, her hands already tapping mindlessly on her thighs. Immediately diverting his gaze from her thighs – and the skirt she somehow considered appropriate enough to wear for such a meeting – Thomas cleared his throat.

“I’ve read through the paperwork for your extended leave,” he began. “Most of it is in order. I’ve already forwarded the very little I have issue with to be further reviewed by Penn Cattrall and Hollywood U’s lawyers.”

“Great,” Margot said, her voice flat and tired. “Is that all?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I do hope you don’t show this kind of attitude to Penn Cattrall, or you’ll be fired and blacklisted in this industry faster than Megan Fox in her Transformers days. This is a tremendous opportunity for any actor, and even more so for a newcomer.”

In the silence that followed his words, her head lowered. Her lower lip trembled. And his stomach twisted.

Where was the confident, cocky young actress determined to take Hollywood by storm? It was almost as if they were back on that damn set, drinking Snapple and letting their guards down little by little. This time, he could see her face, and he knew that the issue was not what he had just said to her, but something else. Something had been bothering her before she’d even come into the room.

His voice softened. “What happened?”

Margot immediately shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I know you,” he said before he could stop himself. “This ‘nothing’ is a ‘something.’ What is it?”

And when she finally looked up at him again, he stood at the sight of the tears spilling from her eyes. He moved quickly, taking the box of tissues he had set upon a shelf and maneuvering around his desk until he was standing by her side. Handing her a tissue, he leaned against the desk and took in her body language, noticing with grim certainty that she had been feeling off long before he’d even thought to discuss the paperwork with her.

She blew her nose. Then, with another tissue, she dabbed at her eyes and swept under the lower lashes, the tissue picking up some makeup on its way.

“Take your time,” he said.

Take your time? a part of him repeated. Since when did you get so soft?

Margot let out a deep, shuddering breath. Then, focusing more on the steadily growing pile of tissues she accumulated in one hand, she spoke.

“Up until a week ago, Penn Cattrall was sure that we were going to be filming entirely on a sound stage.” Her voice trembled, and she took a deep breath. “I – I was fine with that. A sound stage means that the lights come up, you step outside for some light, you know, no problem at all. But then . . . I don’t know how he got permission, but . . .”

She promptly pulled another tissue from the box and blew her nose into it. Thomas crossed his arms over his stomach, holding in his impatience.

Don’t rush her; let her find the words.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she admitted, and then it was a rush of words like a flood headed downhill. “I’ve been trying – I mean, I’ve been practicing, rehearsing in my room in the dark, just a headlamp and a flashlight, all by myself but – I can’t do it, I can’t do it in my own bedroom, let alone the fucking Parisian catacombs with the bones and the tunnels and – what if I get scared and then lost? What if – he said we’d be safe, but no one’s ever been permitted to film in the off-limits areas till now, and I – I’m terrified.” She buried her head in her hands. “How can I call myself an actress if I can’t get over this?”

He looked over her in silence.

“I’m going to ruin my career, and it’s just begun.”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Thomas began breathing slowly, deeply, and, while it clearly annoyed Margot, she caught on to what he was doing and matched his breaths. Inhale, hold, exhale, hold, repeat. Inhale, hold, exhale, hold, repeat.

When it seemed like she’d finally calmed, Thomas sighed. “The pressure you’re putting on yourself is not helping you. You will gain nothing from considering yourself a failure from the start. Your performance will be impacted by your thoughts. You will lose your starring role if you let this go on.”

“How do I stop it?” Margot cried. “You’re my teacher. Teach me.”

Thomas grimaced at the reminder.

“How do I get over this?” she asked.

“You don’t,” he said bluntly. “You simply learn to roll with it, as many other actors and artists before you have.”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Oh, great, another anecdote from your days on Battlefield Earth. I would’ve thought you’d told them all in class by now.”

“Mar- Miss Schuyler.” Thomas blinked a few times, reminding himself of decorum, of the rules he had to adhere to as a faculty member speaking to his student. “You’re not the first, and certainly not the last, actor working with their traumas and fears to complete a production. A simple Google search will tell you that a multitude of actors admit to feeling emotionally and mentally drained from the work they do that involves at least some aspect of their fears. For some, it is claustrophobia when filming in confined spaces for the majority of a film. For others, it is continual exposure to creatures or things that they may associate with terrible memories or have faced before and nearly lost. Fear of heights in an action film. Fear of large bodies of water and drowning after seeing such a thing happen in their childhood. And yes, fear of the dark and the unknown shrouded within it.”

She dabbed at her eyes with another tissue.

“You are not alone in your feelings. More to the point, you are not – and will not be – alone. You will never be alone like that again.”

She nodded.

And Thomas, quickly turning back to his desk, procured some papers from his desk and changed the topic.

“So, about your homework . . .”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 1:

Within the Parisian catacombs, there is a sign that says (according to Penn Cattrall, who translated it for me): “Stop! This is the Empire of the Dead.”

They are not wrong.

To say that I am far beyond my comfort zone is an understatement. More accurately, I’m far beneath it (twenty metres or so, in fact; thanks, tour guide Jack/Jacques).

Penn had arranged a special tour for the cast and crew, which was done in staggered batches of ten with a guide in front and a guide at the rear to keep everyone together. Honestly, they didn’t need to arrange it like that; I doubt that anyone, when within the Empire of the Dead, would branch away from the group when surrounded by dust and bones and stale air. The tour was apparently the same as any regular tour, though the “special” part of it came into play once we had reached a certain point within the catacombs, when the guides took us through a clearly marked off-limits area to show us one of the many places we’ll be working in under the direct supervision of several officials and safety officers.

You think, once you’ve walked around in a cavern made of cadavers for forty or so minutes, you’d be relatively numb to the sight of another area stacked high with bones.

I just . . . didn’t expect the first shots we’ll be filming to take place within such a microscopic tunnel.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Thomas Hunt’s comments on Production Progress Journal Entry 1:

I am not surprised to hear of the extensive security and safety detail.

I am surprised that you didn’t expect to film in areas that may trigger claustrophobia.

Have you done anything at all to help mentally and physically prepare for the shoot?

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 2:

On the plane ride to France, I’d started listening to the podcast “How to Find Peace Within Yourself: A Guided Meditation to Alleviate the Darkness and Manifest the Light.” Once settled in my temporary hotel home for the next six or so weeks, I made space on the floor and did partake in some of their suggested activities, including mindfully making a cup of tea and waking up at ungodly hours to sit in front of the window and focus on how the light of the sunrise felt creeping up my body.

At about seven in the morning today, we made our first descent of many for this film into the catacombs.

Approximately nineteen minutes later, a safety officer had guided me out, where I’d narrowly managed to reach a trash bin before I’d vomited up my breakfast.

Manifesting the light through mindful tea making is bullshit.

Thank fuck it was only a rehearsal.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 2.5:

Just got out of a last-minute meeting/admonishment talk with Penn. From what memory serves, he told me that he was worried we’d both bitten off more than we can chew with this ambitious project. I know he’s trying to soften the blow of the underlying warning of his words.

He is unimpressed. He has every right to be.

Whatever he saw in me when he chose me is not present now, and I don’t know how to come back from this.

I am not the only cast member who has to take frequent breaks from below; my co-star, Oliver Abel, is extremely claustrophobic. He has a scene planned for filming tomorrow that involves him squeezing through the aforementioned tunnel, and I honestly don’t know how he’ll pull it off.

I hope he can do it.

I hope we all can do it.

I don’t want to lose this opportunity.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 3:

I don’t know if I can do what Oliver did.

He’s managed to use his fear to power his performance, sobbing desperately and clawing at the tunnel walls. First take, best take, and while I’m proud, I’m also nervous.

The past few days, Penn has allowed me to focus mainly on above-ground scenes while the crew gets more comfortable with working underground. But we’re running out of filler scenes to film. Soon, it will be my turn to wiggle atop a pile of bones (supplied by Penn’s affiliated prop company, and not the real bones of dead citizens) and plea for mercy.

I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

Especially if my headlamps malfunction, plunging me into darkness, as mentioned in the final draft of the screenplay I got a few hours ago.

Help.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Thomas Hunt’s comments on Production Progress Journal Entry 3:

You are too busy worrying about yourself that you are not learning from those around you.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The phone call came just before eight p.m.

Thomas had reclined in his favourite armchair, beat after a day of marking subpar assignments. His red pen had run out of ink halfway through an essay that was more a waste of paper and ink than an acceptable analysis on auteurist theory, and he’d had to switch from coffee to scotch after ripping apart Lance Sergio’s paper on Sophie’s Choice.

Really, how is that boy still enrolled?

The floor lamp positioned by his armchair went dark, and Thomas turned his head to look at it. He’d have to buy a new bulb for it. Been meaning to for a while now. Another thing to add to his ever-growing list of responsibilities and errands.

He blinked slowly at the shrill noise that broke the comfortable silence, realizing seconds later that it was his cell phone ringing. A number he didn’t recognize, with an area code he couldn’t place off the top of his head.

Still, he answered.

“Who is this?” he asked simply, leaning back into his chair.

Her hushed voice had him jolting straight up again.

“I can’t do this. Help me.”

Though he felt as though his blood has run cold, he kept his voice even as he asked, “How did you get this number, Miss Schuyler?”

“I have my ways.” She sounded on the verge of tears. “I’m scared. I don’t – I don’t think I can do this.”

And Thomas, being the level-headed, critical, highly regarded and rewarded director, actor, professor, and screenwriter that he was, sucked in a deep breath before replying.

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t, I-”

Thomas’s voice was stern. “Margot. Did I not stand for you during your hearing? Do you think I said any of those things falsely? You have shown tremendous growth in such a short time. You led and assisted in multiple school projects. You have acting and producing credits for films that have been nominated – and won – awards.”

“I never had to do any of those things underground,” she argued, her teary voice giving way to a spark of anger. “I’m fine in front of a camera and behind it. I’m happy to be in the spotlight. But I can’t cope with this. Have you ever been to the catacombs? How lonely and suffocating it is to be so far below, hidden away from the world? I close my eyes for too long and it’s like I’m right back in that fucking shed my mother pretended was a house.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and Thomas’s chest tightened.

Her words were met with silence until he had gathered his thoughts on how to assure her.

“The camera crew is there. Mr. Cattrall will be there. You will not be alone. At the first sign of distress, they will halt filming so you can regain composure.” His voice hardened. “You cannot quit now. You have just begun to soar.”

“I’m going to plummet face-first into bones and debris.”

Thomas huffed. “Perhaps. But you will get up again.”

She sniffled.

“Have you considered a therapist?”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“It’s never too late to take care of yourself,” Thomas admonished. “A podcast and meditation are good starts, but the way you react to things that remind you of your trauma is rather unhealthy and will stunt the growth – both personal and craft-wise – that you have already made.”

She said nothing.

He cleared his throat. “Does Mr. Cattrall know?”

She snorted. “All he knows is I’m a failure. I can practically hear him calling for my replacement as we speak.”

Thomas checked his watch, then strained to remember the time difference. Eight p.m. here was . . .

“Are you calling me right before your shoot starts?”

He heard her take a sip of something. “I could barely sleep. I’ve felt sick to my stomach all night.”

“Margot, you are not making this easy for yourself.”

She snorted again. “It’s not going to be easy, period.”

Thomas sighed, running his fingers over one of the arms on his chair. “You need to tell Mr. Cattrall. A good director knows their performers. I’m sure he’ll be more lenient on you if he knew.”

“And be called a crybaby?” Margot snapped. “No, thanks.”

Thomas let out a huff of annoyance. “Margot, why are you even calling if you don’t want any of my advice?”

“Because . . . I don’t know anyone else who would care.”

Silence.

“Margot-”

“Miss Peaches is gone, and I can’t remember the breathing technique she taught me.” Her voice grew higher, hysterical. “I sleep with a lamp on because I can’t handle the feeling of being abandoned again. The few things I’ve filmed in darkness were done surrounded by dozens of crew members on sound stages where everything is predictable and there’s no threat of cave-ins or collapses.”

“Margot, listen-”

“You heard me that night on the set. You know how it makes me feel.”

“I do. I did hear you. I know what you’ve been through.” Thomas’s voice, once again, became strangely soft, soothing. “Margot, you cannot let this hold you back forever. You will face it again and again. It’s not something one simply ‘gets over.’ You have to learn with work with it, and make it work to your advantage.”

She sobbed, and his throat went dry. “How?”

Thomas closed his eyes. His fingers pressed firmly against the arm of his chair, as if smoothing down the edges of a peeling sticker.

“‘The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.’”

He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud until Margot spoke again, her voice shaky but still understandable.

“Orson Welles.”

He hummed. “He was my father’s favourite filmmaker. My parents rarely let me stay up to watch movies, but when a Welles was on, well . . . he made the popcorn, I sliced the jalapenos, and we sat together under his spell. It was one of the few times we actually got along.”

“You put jalapeno slices in your popcorn?”

Thomas smiled. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“I’ll stick with Reese’s Pieces, thanks.” She sounded a bit more upbeat, which he found encouraging.

So, while it wasn’t something he normally advertised, he admitted, “My father named me after him, actually.”

The sound of Margot’s laugh was like a burst of sunlight on his skin, warming and comforting. “Really? How so?”

“Orson is my middle name.” Thomas failed to keep the smile out of his voice. “I understand why he did it, given Welles’s impact on cinema, but it was tough just learning how to spell it when I was a boy.”

“I’m trying to imagine you as a child. All I see is a scowling little boy in a suit.”

“You wouldn’t be very far off.”

“So you’ve always worn suits?”

“My mother dressed me to impress. And to get made fun of.”

Every time she laughed, the weight on his chest lifted a little more. And he found that he couldn’t hold back his own laughter, even as he shook away the memories of playground bullies kicking dirt at him and scribbling on his sleeves with markers.

“Thomas?” Her laughter had died down, and her voice was timid.

“Yes?”

Margot sighed. “Thank you. I feel a little better now. I’ll try to remember what you said, about taking care of myself and getting up again.”

He nodded, as if she could see it. “Don’t forget the quote.”

“Right.”

There was a pause.

“Could you . . . elaborate further on that?”

Thomas rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Limitations breed creativity. They foster growth beyond its restrictions. Take your co-star for example. Claustrophobic, yet he filmed his scene well. You wrote that his fear powered his performance, made it stronger. You feel limited by your trauma. But could you work with it and use it to add verisimilitude to your character’s journey?”

Margot, wherever in Paris she was, took a deep breath that sounded like a gust of wind into his ear. “I – I’m not sure.”

“You’ve fuelled your performances before with your pain.” Thomas thought back to the first acting project she’d helmed since Clash at Sunset’s premiere, when Anders Stone tricked her out of millions of dollars. She’d played a fiery sidekick to her classmate Erik’s cliché cowboy, effectively stealing the show with how genuine her actions seemed to be. “You’ve used anger to your advantage. Pain is part of that realm. You do not have to be sure. You only have to try.”

In the background of her side of the call, he could hear someone talking to her. Then, Margot’s voice came back on the phone, apologetic.

“I have to go. It’s time.” She paused, then added, “Thank you. Really. I’ll try to make you proud.”

Thomas smiled to himself and said, “Don’t forget to do your progress report.”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Long after she’d hung up, he stared at his phone in silence.

I’ll try to make you proud, she’d said.

You already have, he wanted to reply.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

He poured three more fingers of scotch into his glass and carefully selected two perfect ice cubes from the steel container on his drink cart. Flicking on a random channel, he attempted to absorb the film that was already midway through. Instead, it was a flashy, action-packed thing for his eyes to watch while his mind whirred behind them.

He wished he could stop replaying their phone call in his head. The way he’d told her his middle name, admitted he’d been bullied for being different, and encouraged her to use her vulnerabilities to her advantage.

The sound of a gun firing temporarily shook him from his thoughts. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he raised his glass to his lips.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

There had been a time when, if Thomas strained his ears enough, he could hear the echoes of Yvonne’s laughter, her voice crooning for him to join her on an impromptu adventure as an attempt to make him socialize more. He rarely willingly tortured himself with the memories, but on a night like this, with too much scotch in his system and the living room’s burnt-out lamp bulb shrouding him in partial darkness, he settled into his seat and closed his eyes, expecting his mind to conjure up the image of the woman he had once loved and chose to lose.

He saw his fingers running through her long dark locks that stretched far beneath her shoulders, framing her face in gentle, inky waves that shone impossibly beneath the night sky.

Her eyes, framed by dark lashes, dark brown irises shockingly bright and intent on his face.

Her cheek pressing into his palm, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into it further, as if his touch soothed.

A silver-blue gown’s skirt twirling around her legs as they danced.

A different ethereal silver-blue gown rendered diaphanous by the rainfall.

Her angular face, flushed from breathless kisses, illuminated by the bright colours of the fireworks display.

Her voice was a whisper that reverberated within his skull, words overlapping with different emotions.

“Hunt?”

“Please, Thomas . . .”

“My feelings for you are not fake.”

His eyes shot open.

No.

No, no, no.

What did Yvonne look like?

What did she sound like?

What was her last name again?

Does it matter anymore?

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 4:

A wise man once told me that another wise man said, “The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.”

(Orson Welles, in case I have to give credit. This is a school thing, right? Do I need to put this in MLA/APA/whatever?)

The things I associate with darkness, particularly being along in darkness, are my limitations. They make me feel sick to my stomach, bring tears that burn in my eyes until they fall, and make me want to avoid any and all scenarios in which I’d have to face them.

I’ve fueled performances with my emotions before. I’ve used heartbreak to write a best-selling song and anger to light up a performance about a vengeance-seeking cowgirl. Certainly, I could do it again with this emotion, this sadness and pain.

And I did.

The pile of bones scene was terrifying, especially with the headlamp flickering on and off. But I knew I wasn’t alone, that despite the setting we were filming in, I was safe and seen. I was still scared, but I knew my character would be, too. I’d spoken to Penn Cattrall before filming the scene, and he’d told me that the pain I felt, if translated as well as Oliver’s claustrophobia was to his performance, made the struggles of my character real. He’s rewritten Oliver’s character to be claustrophobic, and he’s going to work on mine so that I can work through my fears.

In half an hour (I’m on break with Oliver right now; enjoying a panini from a nearby café) I’ll be filming a scene with Oliver in another area of the catacombs, a microscopic chamber with a hole in the wall. We’re both terrified. And we’re both excited to try.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Author’s Note:

Hi, friends. It’s been a while, I know. “Real life” got a lot busier than I expected.

But anyway, just wondering if it’s worth it to keep posting the chapters of this story on Tumblr. I’m already posting it on AO3 as it is, and to be quite frank, there’s really no engagement here so I’m not sure if I’m just clogging the tags.

Please let me know what you think :)

#only fools fall for you #thomas hunt #thomas orson hunt #hollywood u #hollywood university #pixelberry #fanfiction

4 notes · View notes

capswritinq · 4 years ago

Text

Morning- Bucky Barnes Fic Part 2

Summary: Bucky reminisces and mourns y/n. The events of Endgame transpire.

Genre: More angst than I intended but a happy ending!

Word Count: 2.5k

Note: Thanks for all the lovely feedback on part 1! Hearing people’s reactions to the things I create motivates me to keep making them. I was too lazy to rewatch Endgame so everything is based off of my memory, by the way. Also, do you guys like having music to go with some scenes or is it distracting? Please let me know your thoughts!

Y/n was a homebody. Of course she loved spending time with her friends and seeing new sights every once in a while, but ever since she met Bucky, the place where she enjoyed the most was home. When they bought their first house together, y/n had visions of what she wanted the place to be.

“We have to get cute chairs for the front porch. Imagine going out there in the morning and having a cup of coffee while getting to watch the sunrise, how nice is that?...Oh! And we have to make sure we have tons of paintings and pictures on the walls, I hate when people leave it bare. I was thinking for the kitchen...”

Bucky was only half listening to her ideas. He knew that whatever she did, he would love, because she was trying to make a house their home. He knew she would make sure that it was apparent that they lived there, as she was a very expressive person. He loved that about her, how her personality was so big she wore it on her sleeve.

Getting everything unpacked only took one week, as y/n spent all day and all night decorating and putting everything where it needed to go, with Bucky’s help of course.

The night y/n deemed they had their “finished project”, they took two wine glasses out to the front porch, along with the crosley Steve gifted Bucky for his past birthday. A record was softly playing.

Y/n and Bucky sat in their “cute” chairs, along with the music floating through the evening air.

“I think it’s funny how our appliances and security system is so hi-tech, yet we probably get the most use out of your record player and my old polaroid.” Y/n commented.

A small smirk was on Bucky’s face. “I guess I never thought about that, but you’re right.”

“You know, I’ve always been an old soul. I know it seems like everyone says that but it’s true for me. I grew up on this technology yet I’ve always relied on pen and paper. I matured so young. History was always my favorite class in school, too. The World Wars fascinated me. I would go home and read all about them, past the stuff they would assign. I always wondered what it was like to live during that time.” She looked Bucky in the eye.

Bucky thought for a moment. He didn’t think about his life before HYDRA all too often anymore. His mind was now occupied with thoughts about other things, or rather on a particular person.

“Well, the air was fresher. It was just as noisy though. People talked on the streets louder, and you could hear the car engines on the road more. People weren’t so afraid of each other either.”

Bucky looked down at his hands, his eyes flickering between his flesh and metal one.

“You would walk in a place and pretty much talk to anyone. If someone came battered and bruised at your door, you would let them in. People had lost so much after the Great War, that any ounce of kindness or normalcy was embraced.”

“I bet the parties were pretty lame, though.” Y/n said lightheartedly, looking up to Bucky to see his reaction.

“You kidding? Yeah, you couldn’t really hear the music all to well but the dancing was just as good, if not better. Drinks were cheaper, too.”

Y/n laughed at that. “Everything was cheaper, Buck.”

“Well no shit.” He chuckled.

“The music was great though, I’ll give you guys that.”

Bucky hummed in agreement.

The record player crackled as it moved to the next track. The clarinet of Benny Goodman filled their ears, and Peggy Lee’s soft voice glittered in the air.

Y/n stood up from her spot, and reached her hand out to Bucky. “Dance with me.”

He smiled up at her and grabbed her hand. She turned the dial up on the crosley, and wrapped her arms around his body. Her head rested in the crook of his neck. He held her hand and placed his other arm around her waist. They swayed to the tune.

The only sound he focused on was the music playing and her light breathing. The only thing he thought about was her. In that moment, he looked at her with stars in his eyes because she was his whole universe. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for this woman.

“I love you so much, Bucky.” She whispered delicately in his ear.

Bucky closed his eyes and inhaled a breath, taking in her lovely scent.

“I love you too, darling. So much.”

“Even when I’m a little wine drunk?” She said pulling back to look at his face, a crooked smile on hers.

He grinned at her. “Even more when you’re wine drunk. You’re more fun that way.” He said cheekily.

“Oh shut it, Barnes.”

He laughed and held her face in his hands, and gently moved forward to kiss her. She responded, wrapping her arms tighter around him, her finger tips softly tugging at the ends of the hair on the nape of his neck.

Bucky could honestly say that that was one of the happiest times of his life.

Now he was left destroyed, absolutely shattered, with the absense of her. He knew his happiness rested in her, no matter how unhealthy it might seem. Half of him went away the day she vanished.

5 years without her. 5 years of misery. He felt like he just watched every day go by, not really there.

His life lacked color without her in it. Bucky thought that after 5 years maybe, just maybe, things would eventually lessen but the pain still ached in his chest. He yearned for her. It didn’t help living in the place where she last was, everything reminding him of her.

He kept her small pile of dirty clothes laying on the floor in their bedroom. He left her art studio untouched, not baring to open the door again. Even a mug that had her chapstick stain on it remained on her bedside table.

The little fragments of her pained him to look at, but at the same time it kept y/n’s memory alive. But Bucky couldn’t ever possibly forget her.

His day started just the same as every day before that, after the infamous snap. He woke up later than he used to, showered a bit less, and moved around hardly. Some days were better than others, though. Bucky counted days where he could drag himself to the grocery store a win.

The time on his phone read 10:35. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, knowing Steve was going to be disappointed in being late yet again for a meeting. He already had 3 missed texts and 2 calls from him.

Hey, where are you?

Answer your phone.

Damnit Bucky. I thought things were getting better.

Bucky huffed at reading the last one. As if he could ever get better. As if his soul, body, and heart didn’t long for her to still be with him.

He texted back a “Sorry, leaving now” before quickly putting on some clothes that didn’t smell like rubbish before hastily leaving the house.

————

Bucky sat across from Steve in the cafe booth, staring at him with pained eyes. He didn’t breathe. He looked down after a moment, trying to process what Steve just revealed to him.

“Every night since the snap I’ve gone to bed wishing I could have done something. That I could do something to reverse it all. I’ve held onto this hope. But as the days turned into years I’ve had to face the reality that she-“ Bucky paused. “She’s not coming back. None of them are. And you just spring this onto me. I don’t know if I can allow myself to build up that hope again just to have it all crash down on me. I couldn’t endure that.” He shook his head, meeting Steve’s blue irises.

“Of course there is no guarantee that this will work. But you owe it to her to try. We owe it to all of them. If there is any chance, any slim chance this could work, why not take it?”

Bucky let his words hang in the air. He really thought about it. Of course he would do anything for her, anything. But the feeling he felt when he found her ashes, realizing that this was all real and that she was gone, tore him apart. Having to rexperience that would be torture. Not even HYDRA could have done damage to him like that. But Steve was right.

He owed it to her, his light. He was so tired of living in the darkness. He would do anything for her.

“Okay. When do we leave?”

———

Banner had done it. When the plant outside the compound window reappeared, and the birds started singing louder, Bucky could feel his chest rise with hope and relief. When Clint received a call from his wife, Bucky cried.

She was back. He couldn’t see her but Bucky could feel the heart strings reattaching and the aching dulled. His world was colorful again.

The blissful moment was short lived when the building started to crumble and they realized they were under attack from Thanos.

The nerve of that fucking guy.

Bucky came out of the rubble seemingly unharmed, running to Steve. The fight had began.

Bucky just wanted to run home to her. He knew she would probably be so confused, stepping out of her studio and seeing the state of the house. It was a wreck. Bucky just couldn’t take care of it or himself anymore.

But he knew this would end in a fight. Thanos needed to be ended.

So he fought. Sending bullets into the skulls of the extra terrestrial beings and punching any creature that got in his way, he kept the image of y/n in mind. The knowledge of her being alive and him not getting to see or hold her killed him, but he was determined as ever to beat the fuck out of Thanos and his army.

In the moment he sent a bullet through another creature’s skull, the being wisped away into ashes instead of falling back on the soil. Bucky looked around, confused, until he saw Stark in the distance wielding the gauntlet.

His eyes widened as he witnessed the thousands of aliens, Thanos included, being vanished into the air. He cringed at the sight of Peter and Pepper hunched in anguish over Tony’s body.

Steve approached Bucky from behind, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“You alright?” Steve asked, tears in his eyes. It had been one hell of a day.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I can’t believe Stark did it.”

Steve looked down, not wanting to Bucky to see the tear that escaped. He stood there for a few seconds, letting everything settle over him.

“You should go home. You should be able to find a car by the compound, or whatever is left of it.”

Bucky looked at him.

“What about you?”

“I’m going to catch up with Sam. Don’t worry about me. Go see her.”

Bucky instantly grinned at the mention of y/n. He hugged Steve.

“Give my regards to Sam.” He stated.

“Same to y/n.” Steve smiled.

Bucky gave Steve one last look before jogging towards the compound, his feet picking up momentum the more he thought about y/n.

He was going home, at last.

------

She was sitting on the porch chairs, a distant look in her eyes. She was holding onto a wine glass.

Her eyes widened when the car approached the driveway.

Bucky didn’t even turn it off before he got out, running to her. She gasped.

“Buck-”

“Y/n!” He swiftly pulled her into him, crushing their bodies together. He inhaled her beautiful scent. He cried.

They held each other for a while, the only thing to be heard was the muffled sounds of their breaths and clogged noses, the happiest of tears shedding.

He kissed her temple, his lips lingering. He looked down into her eyes, hers showing both love and relief.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. You have no idea how happy I am to see you. God, it was hell without you.”

Her face contorted in concern. “I can’t imagine what it was like, Buck. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, but pulled her into his embrace again, cradling her head in his arms. He kissed her hair.

That night, they laid in their bed, it now feeling warm and comfortable and right. He held her in his arms, so tight and close. She nestled into him, her body fitting his like a puzzle piece. Neither of them were sleeping, but neither spoke a word. He could explain everything to her later. She could tell Bucky just needed a break from talking or thinking, all he needed was to just hold her. To know that she was really there with him.

After a few moments, Bucky turned his body to face hers, moving his arm that was underneath her to his side, his other wrapped around her torso. He gazed at her.

“Will you marry me?” He whispered, voice husk, sincere.

She stared at him, and tried to stifle a laugh, but a chuckle escaped her. Bucky’s face held a bit of amusement, at the joy of getting to hear the beautiful sound, but also confusion at her reaction.

“What?” he asked.

She met his eyes. “You know I’m not one for grand romantic gestures or cheesiness, but I’m just imagining how Winifred would have reacted to you asking me that like that.” Her smiled reached the corner of her eyes, a small laugh following.

Bucky looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head and grinning. “She’s rolling in her grave right now, yelling at me about being a gentleman and my rudeness.”

Y/n giggled, reaching out to rub Bucky’s arm.

“Oh, totally.”

After their laughs cooled down, Y/n stared at Bucky fondly and determined.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Bucky.” She pressed a kiss to his hand that rested on her shoulder.

It was crazy how much a difference a day made. Yesterday, Bucky didn’t have purpose to his life. Without y/n by his side, he didn’t see the point in continuing on. But now, having y/n in the home they shared, their bed they occupied, wrapped up in her, he wished to have all the time in the world to be alive and share it with her. Before, the only solace he gained was in sweet dreams of her, because it was the only time he felt her presence when she was no longer around. Now, Bucky didn’t want to fall asleep, he wanted to stay awake forever and spend every waking moment with her.

He fell asleep that night holding her, hearing her soft snores. In the morning when he woke up around 6, he stared at her lovely face, undisturbed by the peacefulness of sleep. He could hear the sound of four birds chirping furiously. For once, the sound filled him with an overwhelming amount of joy.

He was whole again.

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angelubasco · 4 years ago

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"YOUR MIND AND BODY MATTERS"

-October 28, 2020

Have you ever check upon yourself? Especially your mind and body? And if so, when is the last time you did it? As of now that the worlds facing a pandemic it is important to monitor our mind and body not just on the month of celebration about mental health. Many news are coming out about their physical and mental health to their family and personal problems in life especially those students who are having difficulties on their online classes. There are lots of sayings that this is not good for them as you browse on different social links that is based from their experience and it is sad to say that most students felt depression and anxiety that they killed themselves because their minds are full of pressure about simultaneously deadlines/activities and felt sick beacuse of having a lack of sleep. This is one of the examples I have cited that I wanted to encourage my fellow students to ask themeselves right now this kind of questions, "How healthy is my mind and body?" & "Am I truly happy and enjoying what I am doing?". Because we can't deny somehow we feel lost and empty. That's why it is important to assess if we are still okay about our physical and mental health because both are interconnected as our thoughts affects our physical body.

According to Newport Academy (2019), "The mind and the body are not two separate entities—although they are often treated that way. Physical health and emotional health are intimately intertwined in what’s known as the mind-body connection.

Our chemistry and biology impact our mood and emotions, as well as thoughts and beliefs. With all of these factors combined, they play a major role in influencing our stress and physical health. If you’ve ever felt your stomach tighten up when you were anxious, you’ve experienced the mind-body connection."

If you are one of this kind of students who doesn't have healthy mind and body or who wanted to know how to maintain your mind and body strong and healthy, here are Eight Habits for you according to Valentine (2017).

1. Exercise using something you love

Physical exercise has been shown in countless studies to help reduce stress, increase energy, improve mood, and even help make us more creative.

Great right? However, advice on how to make exercise a habit is a bit lacking. That’s because exercise can be a really difficult habit to stick to. But if there’s one thing I’ve found really helps stick to physical exercise and make it a long-term habit it’s this:

Exercise in a way that allows you to enjoy something you love.

You have to really look forward to working out. Whatever it is that you do, whether it’s running, lifting weights, doing cardio, martial arts, Yoga, or something else, you need to pick an exercise method you really enjoy.

For example, I love martial arts. I’m a lot more likely to stick to my work out while doing that than running or lifting weights. On the flip side, if there’s no particular exercise-like activity you enjoy, maybe you really love music. Play all your favorite music during your workout and you’ll notice yourself far more likely to get up to exercise. Another option is listening to podcasts about your craft while running.

Either way, exercise is a big one, so find a way to make it work for you.

2. Meditation

Meditation is another huge one. However, meditation isn’t really what most people think it is.

If you don’t like the traditional idea of meditation, you can meditate while doing virtually anything if you use the right method (i.e. mindfulness meditation). Also, studies have shown that as little as five to ten minutes of meditation offers great benefits, so don’t think you need to sit for a half hour every day. You really don’t.

Similar to physical exercise, there are several different methods and forms of meditation, so do a little adventuring and experimentation to find a method and form that works for you. Everyone is different and different methods of meditation tend to work better for different people.

3. Mindful walking

This is easily one of my favorite activities on this entire list, but it’s also the most obscure. Mindful walking, also known as walking meditation, is meditation in motion. It can be done formally as a dedicated practice and informally by paying attention to your steps and what is going on around you as you move.

This is great for many of the reasons formal meditation is (albeit less concentrated), however, there’s another big reason to do mindful walking: it helps you tune in to the body.

Sometimes, things occur in the body that we don’t notice. Oftentimes, chronic issues and illness begin to creep up in ways often unseen. However, by learning to tune in to the body with mindful walking, we can notice these things arise before they become more of an issue.

It’s a hard thing to explain, but it’s been infinitely useful to me. In many ways, this one exercise gives us a way to check in with both the mind and body on a regular basis and in an incredibly convenient way while going about our daily activities, so its place on this list is well-earned.

4. Rise early

Rising early is something I took years to develop. However, it was so worth it.

There are positives to staying up late, particularly if you find that you’re more productive or creative during late night hours. However, in general, I’ve found that the majority of people are most productive in the early morning hours.

In addition, though, waking up early and adopting a morning routine that prepares you for the day helps you start each day off with the optimal state of mind to tackle problems and make decisions, something incredibly useful for everyone no matter what your profession.

So, if you’re not already, see what waking up a little earlier does for you.

5. Adopt a nighttime routine

On the flip side of that, adopting an effective night time routine that puts your mind in the right state before bed and helps maximize the quality of your sleep is also incredibly beneficial.

Unfortunately, most of us in the West just don’t value sleep enough. We tend to place work above well-being and prefer to leave sleep for when we die. However, two decades of scientific research now says this isn’t just a bad idea health-wise – it’s unproductive.

Take some time to craft a simple but effective nighttime routine and I promise – you won’t regret it.

6. Remove sugar, add water, get your food from the source

This is the basic recipe I follow when it comes to nutrition advice.

Over the years, I’ve learned a lot and tried so many different things with regards to nutrition. At this point, my ideology on nutrition is pretty relaxed. And it’s never worked out better.

There’s a ton of advice out there and, rightfully, it can be pretty confusing. So, I’ve chosen to follow a pretty simple mantra that offers me roughly eighty percent of the benefit of any particular diet while doing about twenty percent of the work to get that benefit. It’s this:

Remove sugar: Sugar is bad. Really bad. Occasional sugar is just fine, even daily, as long as you try to keep it under 50g at an absolute a maximum (30g even better).

Add water: Buy a dedicated flask just for water and you’ll have a one thousand times higher likelihood of sticking to the habit of drinking water daily. About eight to ten cups is fine, but you should look into what your specific amount is based on your body weight.

Get your food from the source: Do you have a farm where you live? Or a farmer’s market? Awesome. Section of your grocery store with local farm foods? Pretty good too. Also, this refers to what food you eat as well. Put a little more whole foods into your diet or get a juicer.

Keep it simple and use this method to get most of the benefit of altering your diet while saving you time to focus on what’s most important to you.

7. Find friends who identify with your challenges

We’re social creatures. No matter what you do, you can’t escape this.

And so, by virtue of this, the more social we are, the healthier we tend to be.

However, there’s something very specific about relationships that helps us more than anything else: having people around us who identify and sympathize with our challenges and who we communicate with often about those challenges. The lack thereof is often the reason for suicide in those who suffer from depression or bullying.

When we have people around us who listen and understand what we’re going through, something magical happens: we get through it (what it is for you). It’s a very simple thing that we often overlook but is so critical to our mental and even physical health.

8. Find a passion project or creative outlet

If you’ve been pursuing something you love for some time now, I don’t have to tell you how great it makes you feel.

The energy we get while pursuing our passions is limitless and gives us a sense of vitality that is hard (if impossible) to acquire any other way.

Using our brain regularly keeps our mind strong and moving helps keep us physically healthy, so if you haven’t yet taken the time to find what you’re passionate about and to start pursuing that with every fiber of your being, start now (before it’s too late).

There's no harm in trying, our mind and physical gives us energy. A person who can change his/her mind can change his/her lives. Always remember health is our wealth. Keep on checking and doing the things you love.

Sources:

Newport Academy, (2019). Understang the Mind-Body Connection. https://www.newportacademy.com/resources/mental-health/understanding-the-mind-body-connection/

Valentine, M., (2017). 8 Habits You Need to Lock Down for a Strong, Healthy Mind and Body. https://www.goalcast.com/2017/12/14/8-habits-healthy-mind-and-body/

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mollymauk-teafleak · 5 years ago

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Help Wanted (chapter 3)

Huge thanks again to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian who continue to be amazing beta readers!

Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3, it really helps

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

-----

Caduceus loved it when little kids would come into the Blooming Grove. It didn’t happen all that often, most of his customers were students from the academy or the nearby art school, coming in talking about their projects or dissertations, magic runes scrawled up their arms in biro and paint under their fingernails. But every so often, usually on sunny afternoons, parents would come in with strollers or tiny, pudgy hands held securely in their own, coming from the park or the fountain or the markets. The little ones would soon find themselves thoroughly spoiled, pressed with free cookies and cakes to go with their juice, the tall, nice man behind the counter always eager to listen to their nonsense and coo over whatever treasures they clutched. He kept a box of toys over in the corner for them to play with, picture books to read and there was always a napkin within reach when one was needed.

There were some skills you couldn’t shake, even if your siblings were miles away.

He was just helping a little drow toddler clean off some cookie crumbs before his mothers could notice when there was a yelp from behind the counter, accompanied by a loud hissing like some immense dragon.

“Caddy! Help! Emergency, Captain!”

“You don’t have to call me that!” Cad gave the little boy a pat on the head and went running over.

Fjord was being enveloped in bursts of steam that smelled like burnt coffee, belching from the ancient coffee brewer, coughing and waving his arms in an attempt to stave them off, “I told you, Caddy. Helga hates me.”

“She does not hate you,” Cad insisted, wading in and turning dials and pushing levers back up, slapping his palm against the sides in a particular rhythm.

Eventually it worked, the steam abating and the guttural hissing stuttering into silence. There was a final worrying rattle and a small tide of black, steaming, bitter sludge plopped from the dispenser into the waiting cup.

“Ew,” Cad’s ears flattened and his nose wrinkled, “Okay, maybe Helga does hate you. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Fjord sounded indignant but clearly, like Cad, he was barely holding in laughter, “I tried to follow your instructions but I couldn’t remember them and I couldn’t find her manual…”

“She doesn’t have a manual, I bought her at a flea market,” Cad shook his head, slapping the immense bronze machine a few more times before nodding in a satisfied manner, “That should do it. What was the order?”

“Cinnamon coffee,” Fjord scratched at his jaw, still giving Helga a scandalised look.

“Right,” Cad moved to grab the right jars from the small, mismatched army of them that cluttered the bench, “Did you put the cinnamon in with the beans or did you add them separately?”

Fjord paused, eyes widening and jaw slackening in realisation, “Ah. The wrong one.”

Cad chuckled, nudging him lightly with a bony elbow, “Don’t worry. You’ll get it next time.”

For some reason, that seemed to make Fjord shrink a little, like he’d been expecting another step but his foot had found thin air instead. But only for a moment, then he was smiling again.

“Well, it’s my mess so I’m definitely cleaning Helga tonight.”

Cad let him have that, waving him back to work his usual magic with the customers so he could finish the drink. It had been a few months since he’d started working here and Fjord was clearly strongest when he was interacting with people, a relief seeing as conversation had never been Caduceus’ strong suit which he supposed came of growing up in the middle of the forest with only six other family members, talking to plants more than people.

In fact, Cad had learned a lot about Fjord, seeing him nearly every day, working elbow to elbow with him. He hummed while he worked. He didn’t like huge bits of onion in his food but if it was cut up small, he’d never notice. He’d gone to high school with Beau and Jester and become friends with Molly and Caleb and Veth through them. He’d been a sailor since he left school, speaking about the waves the same way Caduceus spoke about the forest. He always had a battered paperback in his bag, bought from a thrift store, even if there’d be no time in the day to read it. He woke up early and stayed up late, living on an amount of sleep that would have Cad wilting like a tulip in the heat. And he really needed a haircut but seemed in no hurry to get one.

Cad found himself filing away every new thing he learned, despite telling himself his crush had been a brief thing, just something silly his brain had spat up in amongst all the stress and change. Fjord was handsome, of course, but he was also becoming his friend on top of his employee which was way more important. He wasn’t going to put him in an awkward position by blushing like a teenager every time he opened his mouth. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

And besides, there was Avantika.

She was rarely in the cafe itself, which Caduceus couldn’t help but be grateful for, as selfish as he felt over it. Even so, her presence was felt almost every day, in the way Fjord would come in muttering under his breath, agitated and red faced, still reliving an argument he’d left behind. Or in the way he’d get calls sometimes that he would get anxious about taking, dropping whatever he was doing in the cafe to answer them coming back apologetic and shamefaced, with a tension in him that hadn’t been there before. Or the way clear up would run late- usually because the two of them were talking and laughing or Fjord was showing him a new song on the radio- and he’d sigh resignedly and head out for the bus stop rather than getting a lift from her. He never said anything directly about it but the pieces weren’t hard to put together. Fjord knew Cad would offer to drive him home and he also knew he wouldn’t be able to say no. And there would be something unacceptable about that, some rule broken by that action that he didn’t understand.

There seemed to be a lot of rules in Fjord’s...whatever he had with Avantika. One of them seemed to not be speaking about her at all, Cad had to base everything on what Fjord said with his muscles. He’d always been able to read that language better than anything, realising what people were trying not to say more than what they were actually saying. And he had learned shortly after that that people didn’t like it when you would state what it was out loud. He’d been working on that since coming to the city.

But no matter how many times he told himself it was none of his business one way or the other, that he needed to keep his broad, flat nose out of his new friend’s affairs, Caduceus did care. He did.

Fortunately, the rest of the Nein also cared and seemed determined to talk to him about it.

Beau and Caleb were in the cafe at the moment, as Caduceus tried to soothe Helga and get her back in working order by thumping his fist very carefully around her casing. They tended not to sit down when it was just the two of them, usually just on a pit stop in between class and a library session. They took different classes, of course, but they studied together which Cad found very strange, as they seemed to constantly bicker whenever they were within five meters of each other. Maybe they really didn’t know anyone else even remotely studious. Their significant others certainly wouldn’t qualify.

Fjord was taking orders, efficiently and smoothly, putting them together with barely a pause. He’d really been getting good at this, even in such a short space of time. Cad could see why he’d been so good on ships. Any task he was given, he threw himself into it fully until he’d mastered it and could move through it confidently. Cad barely ever had to show him something twice.

Thinking that he had this in hand- it was still an hour away from lunchtime, they were still in the ebb rather than the rush- Cad slipped over to Caleb and Beau, where they were leaning against the tall stools up against the counter, probably already arguing about something complicated to do with magic. Cad didn’t understand what there was for them to learn about magic for so many years. You just thought about it, asked nicely and it happened?

“Morning,” he rumbled congenially, setting their cups down in front of them. They came so often, he’d just started taking their own travel cups and filling them. Beau’s was scuffed and scratched from being shoved deep into her backpack with all her stuff, the logo of the Cobalt Soul still just about visible, clearly a freebie from her orientation nearly three years ago. Caleb’s was covered in cartoon kitty paw prints. Both were filled with black, incredibly strong study session grade coffee brew. Cad refused to sell them more than three cups a day, five cups a day during finals week.

“Hey, Cad,” Beau was bouncing on the balls of her feet, like she was shaking out all of her energy before having to stay still for an extended period of time.

“Good morning Caduceus,” Caleb had eyes only for his coffee, making grabby hands towards it before Cad had even passed it over.

“Only three, remember,” the firbolg warned him, not liking the look on his face, “I am keeping track.”

“I know,” Caleb said meekly, trying to look restrained and a little less like an addict, just taking one small sip before lowering the cup, as if to prove he could.

“Saw Fjord nearly send your coffee machine up in smoke,” Beau leaned a bandaged elbow on the counter, tipping her cup in the direction of the half orc, now chatting companionably with an elderly dragonborn woman as he put her granola bowl together.

“Easy mistake to make and no harm done,” Cad smiled in the same direction, just to himself, “He’s actually doing brilliantly. Starting to forget how I managed without him.”

Cad’s gaze was elsewhere, being much less subtle than he thought, so he missed the glance exchanged between Beau and Caleb.

“So, uh…” Beau leaned forward, bringing Cad’s eyes back her way, “You and Fjord, you get on well, huh?”

Cad was frowning over that, confused as to why she’d ask that when it was obvious, when they were both interrupted by a chime from Fjord’s apron pocket. The apron Cad had made him, done exactly to match his height, with waves stitched along the hem. He’d been delighted with it.

It went just as it always did. Fjord seemed to shrink in on himself a little, jaw tensing, teeth closing on his lower lip. He gave the woman her change quickly, eyes darting to Cad, gesturing apologetically and pointing at his pocket questioningly. Cad gave him a wave, there was no one else at the counter anyway.

Now Beau’s face was dark as thunder and even Caleb had a disapproving set to his jaw, like he’d swallowed something bitter other than his coffee.

“How many times a day does he get calls like that?” he asked, watching Fjord’s back disappear around the corner to the back room.

Cad shrugged, “A few. More some days than others. I’m not counting.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. He was trying not to count.

Beau muttered something into her cup that sounded unkind. When Caleb gave her a look she threw her hands in the air, nearly sloshing coffee on the wooden floor, “What? You know I’m right! She’s checking up on him like he’s a naughty kid!”

“I am aware,” Caleb sniffed, “And I don’t like it any more than you do. But we said we weren’t going to say that kind of stuff when he’s around.”

“Oh come on, he can’t hear us,” Beau rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

Cad looked between the two of them anxiously, already feeling guilty but too curious to go and do something else, “So...you guys know about his girlfriend? Avantika?”

“Girlfriend is a strong word,” Caleb allowed, while Beau snorted derisively in the background, “More like...force of mutual destruction. Part time nemesis. Live in life ruiner.”

Caduceus wrinkled his nose, “Oh…”

“They’ve been like this since high school,” Beau’s lip curled, “They both got deep into this really dodgy patron, you know, how most people do at that age? Neither of them had a great childhood and it kind of just happens that way. Fjord started to have second thoughts once he became friends with us but she kept dragging him down into it. We all thought they were done when Fjord signed up with the Tide’s Breath, the ship he worked on? But now he’s home and they’ve just fallen right back into making each other miserable and making our lives shitty into the bargain!”

“That doesn’t sound...healthy…” Cad said slowly, taking his tail in his hands and wringing it anxiously.

“It’s not!” Beau slapped Caleb’s arm, “See! Cad gets it!”

“Ow! I’m on your side!” Caleb protested, rubbing his arm, “We all are!”

“You’re ridiculous, I barely touched you.”

Cad sucked in a breath, “People sometimes do things that don’t make sense because they don’t see that it’s hurting them. Or because something else is hurting them more and listening to someone else is easier. Even if what they’re telling you is bad.”

That got him an eerily twin set of concerned looks. Cad realised that maybe that should have been something he kept to himself, one of those things that made conversations awkward.

“We sort of get why he’s doing it,” Beau eventually said, slowly, “I mean, we’re basically Team Gone Through Bad Shit. Doesn’t mean we like it.”

“No one does,” Cad said quietly, eyes casting down to his tail, still clutched tight in his long fingers, “But saving people from themselves is difficult.”

“Hence why they’re still together,” Caleb murmured, “We know we can’t just go telling Fjord all of this without upsetting him and making things worse.” At that, he gave Beau a very significant look. She gave him the finger in return.

When Caleb ignored it, she sighed and hopped down from the stool, “We need to head out. Just...help us keep an eye on him?”

Cad glanced over. Fjord was back behind the counter, tapping his fingers restlessly on the wood, looking red faced and anxious. Clearly the conversation hadn’t been a pleasant one. Cad thought of all the times Fjord would look uncomfortable when he reassured him or instantly forgave an error or mistake. The way he’d get awkward about compliments, like he didn’t know how to hold them or where to put them. The way he needed to hold his overgrown hair back with a band but every day his tusks were freshly filed down, right to where it had to be painful, just so they wouldn’t be visible past his lip.

He couldn’t have a crush on him, it wouldn’t be fair. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t care about him. Far too late for that.

“Of course I will,” he said softly.

Caduceus was starting to enjoy closing up more than any other part of the day. Everything slowed down, there seemed to be more space to breathe and the whole evening stretched out in front of them, feeling like forever. And it would suddenly be just him and Fjord in the quiet, able to choose their favourite songs on the speakers and talk across the freshly wiped down tables and sing and joke.

It had started off tentative, back in the first few days. Neither of them were hugely eager to talk about the usual ice breaking questions like family, home, where they both were before now. Instead they’d talked in the present, about their interests. Cad had talked for hours about his rooftop beehive before realising he was rambling, except Fjord had still been listening intently, almost as if he didn’t care how much time had gone by. Fjord talked about how he was getting back into the battered old acoustic guitar he played, whatever book he was reading, whatever podcast he was listening to.

But, as it often went, talk about small things became talk about big things without really meaning to.

Tonight, Fjord was wiping down the tables and Cad was moving from plant to plant, watering contentedly. As he worked, the half orc was explaining some interesting historical magic experiments he’d been reading about in a book Caleb had lent him.

“...I used to think that kind of stuff was so interesting when I was younger. How people know what they know now, how all these big ideas became fact, y’know? Used to have all these daydreams about being at the academy and seeing the places all this big thinking happened…”

Cad looked over his shoulder, interested, “You want to apply to the academy?”

And then suddenly Fjord was tense, awkward, ducking his eyes to focus on the already clean mosaic table top, acting like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“I mean, I used to. When I was younger. A lot younger.”

Cad felt the urge to back off, the sensation that they were suddenly standing on some kind of line. But he couldn’t help but feel letting it go would be breaking the promise he’d made to Beau.

“You still could,” he said quietly, “They take students of all ages.”

Fjord still didn’t look up, “I, uh...I don’t think that’s the path for me anymore. I mean, when would I fit it in now? Not gonna be long before I’m back out on the ocean.”

Cad frowned delicately. He had mentioned that a few times, the fact that this was temporary, a stop gap until he found hire on another ship. But there was always something so rehearsed about the way he said it. Like he was copying someone else’s words.

“Paths can change,” Cad allowed after a pause, “But sometimes you can think that way but old loves come back, ones you thought you’d outgrown. And they’re stronger than ever.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?” The attempt to change the subject was obvious but Cad let him have it. He wasn’t looking to make him uncomfortable.

He smiled softly, fingers gently brushing the almost silky leaves of his yucca plant, “My whole family worships Melora, the Wildmother. Have you heard of her?”

“I don’t think so,” the bridge of his nose scrunched up adorably when he was thinking.

“Not many people have,” Cad reassured him, “She’s mostly for the quiet places, where nature’s grown over the scars in the earth. Places like where I grew up...she was practically another family member growing up, you could feel her everywhere. She’s soft and gentle and kind and there’s nothing she can’t heal.”

Fjord’s expression softened, “She sounds nice.”

“She is,” Cad chuckled wryly, “And I was raised to be her cleric from the moment I was born.”

“Really?” Fjord’s eyebrows shot up and Caduceus could understand why, even as he cringed internally. He’d never mentioned having any kind of magic, he never used it around the cafe except in ways too small to notice. It was quite deliberate. Every time he reached for the well of power inside himself, the quiet place where he could smell damp moss and fresh grass and feel it under his feet no matter where he was, he’d feel a tug of homesickness. Even with the long conversations he’d had with the Wildmother, one sided conversations where he was answered by breezes and bird calls, even with his certainty that he had her support, his magic had a bitter taste to it these days.

“Really,” Cad murmured, hoping Fjord wouldn’t press the matter, “And there was a good few years where I resented the hell out of it.”

“Oh,” Fjord’s eyes widened.

Cad smiled coyly, “I had a full teenage tantrum. Pouting, breaking things, yelling. No one in my family yells… I made a complete fool of myself. It was a week out from my cleric initiation and suddenly I was tired of having all of my decisions made for me and wanted the world to know it.”

“How old were you?” Fjord grinned.

“Thirty five. Just a kid.”

“Oh…so what happened?”

“One night, I got it in my head that I was going to run away,” Cad turned back to his plant, practically petting it, “I packed a bag, climbed out of my window in the middle of the night...I told myself I was never coming back, without so much as a goodbye.”

Fjord had abandoned his table entirely, looking at Caduceus with his full attention, “Really?”

“Yep,” the memory of his own stupidity still made the fur on his neck stand up, “And I would have done it, if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn. I’d lived in those woods all my life and somehow I took a wrong turn, tell me how that happens without divine intervention. But all of a sudden, I wasn’t on the path anymore. I was in this beautiful clearing, waterfall gently bubbling...the place I was meant to take my initiation in a few hours, the very thing I was supposed to be running away from. And it occured to me that I’d been feeling all of this anger and sadness and confusion, it had been tearing me up inside for longer than I’d even realised...and I’d never talked to anyone about it. I couldn’t tell my family, not when they’d had this image of me as their perfect, devoted son. So...maybe I could tell her.”

“And you did?” Fjord sounded a million miles away, Cad lost in his own memory.

“I did. I talked until my voice ran out, until the sun came up. I told her everything and afterwards I felt so...so clean. People had been telling me all my life to follow the Wildmother and I had, because they’d told me to. That night was the night I decided to follow her because I chose to. I took my oath then and there.”

“Wow,” Fjord murmured, “I can’t imagine feeling that way about...anything, really.”

Cad was about to ask how come Fjord had his own patron then, before realising he’d have to explain how he knew that. And then realising he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

Instead he smiled, “It’s always waiting for you, Fjord. For all of us.”

That brought a laugh, the kind he only did when he wasn’t thinking because it would show his filed tusks, “That’s a nice idea, Caddy.”

He grinned back, moving to the next plant, caring for each of them as devotedly as he could manage, each one a growing, green prayer, “It is. Even nicer for being true...the Wildmother helped me realise I wasn’t happy at home, years after that night, when I was actually ready to make that decision. She brought me here, to this cafe and to the life I have now. She helped me not feel so lost. And there’s something out there that will help you feel the same, Fjord. Maybe it’s the academy. Maybe it’s your next ship.”

Maybe it’s here.

The words were on his lips without thinking, desperate to be spoken, straining to tumble into the air between them.

Caduceus swallowed them back. It wouldn’t be fair. And there was no guarantee that saying it would make it true.

“Thanks, Caddy. For sharing that with me,” Fjord’s voice seemed different somehow, in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe he was just tired.

“You’re welcome… you know you can talk to me anytime, right? About whatever you want... doesn’t have to be work stuff or, um…I mean anything.” Cad winced at himself. How had he gone from being so articulate to tripping over his own feet when he wanted to ask a simple question?

Fjord seemed on the verge of his usual tension when help was offered but then he seemed to shake it off, like rainwater, “Thanks. That means a lot, Caddy.”

Cad resisted the urge to clap his hands. He’d done exactly as Beau asked and made Fjord smile into the bargain.

“Why don’t you clean out Helga? That might make her like you. I can finish up the plants and tables.”

Fjord seemed grateful for the chance to move, like just accepting help had filled him with restless energy, “Oh, I’ll do that! She’s going to end up loving me, I swear.”

“I’m sure,” Cad chuckled quietly as he jumped up and headed for the counter.

He’d make sure they were wrapped up in time for him to get a ride home. One personal leap a day was enough, he felt.

Cad moved to the next plant, a terrarium full of mushrooms he’d taken from the grove, already softly starting to glow as the light dimmed. Just for a moment, he placed his palms on the smooth curve of the glass, the green luminescence filtering through the gaps between his fingers like he held a heart in his hands.

And all he could smell was fresh grass, new fallen rain on green things. He felt his nerves alight with power he’d had inside himself since that promise he’d made. And it felt right.

Cad smiled, leaning close and whispering just in case, “I’m going to keep an eye on him...but maybe you could too?”

The mushrooms immediately grew brighter in his hands, far brighter than they should be for the time of day.

Caduceus took that as a yes.

#fjorclay #teahaw #modern au #coffee shop au #toxic relationships #also good excuse to write my fave empire siblings #fjord #caduceus clay #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #critical role #cr fic

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